My cheating heart

September 21, 2010

Mlle. Hovary is lonely and driven to blog about it.  Please extend a warm welcome back.  The prodigal daughter returns.  Why?

I’m in love with this guy who isn’t my boyfriend.

I have sexy dreams about him in a way that does not happen with boyfriend.  The other night I dreamed I was going to jog past him wearing nothing but a tshirt and underwear.  As I got closer, I had second thoughts and wheeled around so maybe he wouldn’t notice.  But there he was, and he waved to me.  I waved back, tried to act casual, and jogged home.  I hoped he was watching me as I ran past.

In another dream, we cut right to the chase.  I kissed him and melted a little on the inside.  We took off our clothes and fucked.  He was seated and I climbed on top of him.  It was awkward, and the lights may have been on.  It probably wasn’t that good – no foreplay.  I just wanted him, bad.

He is nice, smart, shares my politics, has cool hobbies, volunteers with me, blogs intelligently, and is tall and cute in a geeky way.  And, most importantly, he is also in a long-term committed relationship.

Fuck me.

I wish he had some gaping character flaw so I’d know any relationship we had would be doomed.  Aside from any unrequited affections on his part.  Maybe he doesn’t put out.   I’d probably be unhappy even if I managed to steal him from his lady friend.  Fantasy is by definition unattainable, and the object loses its appeal if you succeed in attaining it.  The Life of David Gale taught me that.

Maybe a little fantasy is helpful.  Keeps the old juices flowing.  I was never especially creative in grade school, but boy do I have a good imagination when it comes to lusting after men who aren’t interested in me.

When I was on the rebound from dating a douchebag a few years ago, it seemed like a great idea to date The Nice Guy.  I think I made the safe choice.  Boyfriend is very sweet and would be an excellent partner if I wanted to get married and squeeze out kids. 

But I also want someone who won’t want to keep his hands off me, who can’t wait to get me home at the end of the night. I know I need to step up my game and slut it up to make things easier, but it is exhausting. Not everyone is as effortlessly stunning as Mlle. Nottibits always is. There is also nothing worse than getting all dressed up, so to speak, with nowhere to go.

I am tired of making responsible adult choices.  Perhaps it would be wrong to swing over to self-destructive choices, but they sure look attractive. I am grasping at any romantic straw to feel like sex and romance are not a farce.

What to do? All suggestions are welcome.


Played with Fire, Got Burned, Whatever Whatever

January 9, 2010

It’s inevitable. In the world of BDSM, you’re gunna encounter crazies because not everyone comes into the lifestyle the way they should. Some of us are lucky enough to have that safe, sane, consensual kinky lover who opens us up and reaveals  and molds the kink there. Some, after tolerating the vanilla world long enough, stumble upon porn or literature that presents something new and exciting to try with the next partner. But alas, some – far too many in fact –  come from abuse, mental illness, usually and but also or insecurity.

I’d come across the latter before, and this was normally in the form of someone else’s problem er, I mean, partner. I heard horror stories of all kinds and was wary. But, after a number of play partners who were strong and stable, I became soft and let my guard down.

That’a how we come into the recent past where I started dating a submissive, young woman named, let’s say, Elle. In my defense, I suspected that from day one, Elle was a little insane. She called me at all hours, several times a day after our first date. She expressed being hurt that she was crazy about me but I didn’t return the sentiment…after the first date. She was frustatingly indirect and passive aggressive with me but insisted otherwise. Before our second date even, I said I was done with her because of the number of calls and demands.

But somehow we became fuck buddies – admittedly I was starved for sex at the time and happy to have a petite, masochistic body to play with. Actually, this may have been my first encounter with someone who genuinely enjoyed physical pain. I could slide my nails through her skin, bite, slap, pull and stretch her and she cried breathlessly for more. Had the craziness not persisted, knife and piercing play probably would have been in our near future. But tendencies like talking and acting like a four-year old child, jealousy, and the kind of emotional attachmant that tends toward obsession started to diminish any attraction to her.

Finally, after putting her job in jeopardy to see me and me not wanting to officially date her (or say those three words), the upper limit of crazy was reached: the insincere suicide threat. She said that she had never considered committing suicide before but, because no one loves her now,  she wants to do it. No no…I think she said “I don’t want to but there’s nothing else to do since no one loves me”  I freaked out and I talked about it with her for some time. It became more and more clear that she had no intention of committing suicide but I played along for a few more hours. At some point she left, saying I didn’t care enough about her or some such nonsense. Anyway, within five hours she told me that I wouldn’t want to see her again cause she’s crazy, that she had no intention to commit suicide ever, she berated me for not caring about her enough and finally she said that she got tickts for us to go on vacation for a week together next month.

Seriously? No. Not in your hare-brained life. I told her as much and that I never wanted to see her again. She said that as an aspiring counselor I should be able to deal with someone like her, someone with emotional issues. Never would I want potential patient and a lover to be the same person. Not ever.

So, anyway, I’m wary again



December 24, 2009

I’ve been reading Jitterbug Perfume for a book club. I hated this book at the beginning but it grew on me as most books do. Periodically, Pan makes an appearance in the novel, infecting those around him with sudden sexual desire, nightmares and other strangeness. The victim would just be hanging out, doing whatever and suddenly feel lustful (and often ashamed of it). The book goes on about god knows what but this stuck with me.
When I feel like fucking, it’s incredibly urgent and overwhelming. Come on, let’s go screw something my libido screams Fuck  consequences, fuck whatever bullshit you’re doing right now, let’s go. Let’s go. Ugh, it’s always inconvenient – during work, before I go to bed, on the metro – but I have no choice but to deal with it. When I saw Black Snake Moan, I saw Christina Ricci pulling at that chain and was sorely jealous. There’s also a part in Dreamcatcher (the book) where Mr. Grey is incensed by his new body’s desire for a BACON SANDWICH WITH MAYO and indulges in excess. I think Jonesey had a hand in it…anyway he ended up sick. I often end up sick. After a whirlwind of physical indulgence I can’t imagine the motivation behind the urgency.

Only a few hours ago, I was depressed with a number of things. And now, with this possession, I can’t let those things bother me.


XXXMas Gift Giveaway

December 8, 2009

Only because it’s frickin awesome, I have to post this promotion for a kinky toy giveaway on Fetlife. I would kill really to have anything on this list of amazing items.



EH….or meh?

December 3, 2009

Being black, everytime I start dating someone new outside my race (which is extremely often) I can’t help but wonder if I’m being taken as some kind of novelty or what. This is certainly not unique to me however 9 times out of 10 I’m told “You know you’re the first black girl I ever…such and such”

In many cases, my race is linked to stereotypes – not necessarily the bad kind but just …how about inoffensive assumptions? Where am I going with this?

I’m starting to get involved with a non-black, non-Korean woman here who’s dated other black women before…exclusively I think. I didn’t really make anything of it until she asked me about these R&B artists I’d never heard of, then demanding “How is it possible you don’t know them?!” Why would I? Ask me about alternative rock or drum & bass and we might nod heads more often. I dunno, I guess it’s ok to assume I like R&B but then judging me harshly based on the fact that I don’t care for it yet am willing to listen is a little bit of a turn off. She demand-asked “Do you know any music at all?!” Well, I studied music for six and half years but that doesn’t count I guess. Sigh.

Whatever, I’m gunna fuck the shit out of her tonight.


The First Thing I StumbledUpon Today

November 5, 2009

After a long night of prepping for a dinner party, I took a hot shower, masturbating for about 3/4 of it. It was nice but I would’ve loved an extra hour to dedicate to the task. I remember a time in my life where I’d spend an entire day masturbating or at least an entire morning. Now, I’m lucky if I get a hot second to myself…but in the meantime I’ve trained my body to adapt to this time constraint. I flood my brain with images and words that bring me to an orgasm with a few pumps of my glass dildo but I imagine that being incredibly horny all day helps, too.

This time I imagined my current crush, a girl I met last week with a beautiful mouth. I imagined her in a strap on fucking me senseless with moans and “I’m gunna cum so hard” spilling out of her beautiful mouth.

Ahh…maybe I need to take a sick day soon.


See the Light

November 2, 2009

It’s freezing here and this photo warms me up