Whispers of a wildrose

Bye bye sex-drive

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 04:44:10 GMT

12 weeks of hell-on-earth left. My sleep total since the UNMH visit on Tuesday is 24 hours. It's now been over 14 days since I last even had a sexy thought. Something's got to give... and soon!

orphan line

Mon, 23 Feb 2009 00:14:38 GMT

I have this single image-phrase in my head. It refuses to lend itself to greater poetry, and also demands to take up space in my consciousness, distracting my focus on more important matters.

The taste of your smile on my lips...

that's the line... and every time it flitters across my mind I burst into full montage. I think this wouldn't be so distracting if all my mans didn't have soul-warming smiles and yummy kisses...

A kiss on the hand might be quite continental

Sat, 17 Jan 2009 22:11:13 GMT

But I like them better when there are 2 sets of lips involved... or 3 sets... or... well I lost track.

I feel that I should have some sense of regret for having disappeared from my own party, but I don't. Though I do feel I should take to leaving the door open again if decide to wander off from the festivities. I miss the wild nights on El Camino, and even the wild night at casa-eco-. I closed the door because I can't leave behind suspicions, and Hige was at my casa last night, for the first time since I cut him from my world three or more years ago. I can't say I'd truly object to anyone else who was here walking in, though there would be a few who would surprise me if they did...

Tsume shared some fantasies with me last night, and now I'm of a mind to figure out the logistics of fulfilling them...

I've been introduced recently to a sensation I think I might like to explore... but I have great trepidation about bringing it up. Kiba had a bad experience, and would not go there. Besides, he is my wild wolf, bound to lose control of himself if too far aroused. Darcia is my sly wolf, detached enough from himself to be trusted with the exploration. However, the very concept of the sensation is abhorrent to him. Tsume might be willing to explore, but he makes me feel shy in a way I've not experienced since I first confessed to aneyah that I was poly (which, of course, was before I ever learned the word for it).

savor those spirits

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 22:07:44 GMT

a sultry glance...
a brush of fingers...
a whispered admission of desire...
then the look of quickly suppressed frustration when you walk away...

Teasing is a fiercely stimulating thing, and a heady brew that leaves every micrometer of flesh tingling. It's a drink that, in my youth, I was expected never to taste. I was told to sip it in moderation (only with my husband and under tightly controlled conditions) when I became a woman. By then, of course, I'd had enough of a taste to know how much I enjoy it. Yet even knowing that I love to tease I tried to deny it for years. I never gave thought to how much pleasure could be derived by both my object and myself from the simple phrase "not yet..." Yet the promise of "possibly" has to be there to make it work... or at least the promise that someone else will come by to quench the flames we've both kindled... maybe not for weeks... but at some foreseeable point... or the brew is touched by the bitterness of cruelty and is hard to swallow.

I think that bitterness is why I was taught to avoid knowing it's taste as a youth. That bitterness seethes on the back of the tongue if someone else's flame always gets the quenching you're being promised. That seething can froth into the sourness of hate. I think that's why I was told only to tease my own husband in moderation, and only when I'd be able to fulfill the promise soon, when I became a woman.

Now, of course, I know better. I know that your eyes and your mind ravaging my flesh when your body cannot is a potent pleasure. I know that your partners will benefit from your frustrated desires, for your fire wants quenching, and your flames will have been fanned all the higher when you may be together again. My mates savor the flavor of my pleasure at teasing you and are all the happy for it. It's not absence that makes the heart grow fonder, so much as frustration...

I hope this wasn't too cheesy...

Tue, 02 Dec 2008 08:45:34 GMT

Sunday I was in a bad place psychologically speaking. I was harried and stressed, have too many things to do and no time to do them, had papers to write, a sick husband to tend, and a boat-load of clean-up from celebrating the much needed belated Thanksgiving on Saturday. In addition I had just returned from the land of psycho-neo-cons... which is to say, time spent in the town where I grew up, and with my blood-relations. Something about hearing someone say "white-power" in a non-ironic manner over a traditional repast just doesn't sit right in my soul. What's more, the brother who abused me my entire childhood has announced that he's thinking of moving to my city to get involved in the local auto-racing scene. Moreover, if he does this, he'd like to rent my spare room. Um... no! Hell no!! But I can't say that, I can't make the words come out, because I've been crushed back into the helpless little mouse who gets walked all over by her family, and I can hear the echo of my mother's voice in my head saying "why do you have to be so hateful to your brother? Didn't Christ teach us to forgive? I don't know why you have to hold such grudges..." Yes, she's actually said exactly that when I told her I didn't want my brother at my college graduation because then he'd know where I lived. And while the man is trying to be a better person than he was, exposure to him gives me serious anxiety. I think it may be something akin to PTSD...

But I digress...

So, Sunday I'm hashing out the last of the emotional turmoil from the time with my relatives, trying to write 4 papers all at once, trying to not be in the house because while I was in the house trying to work on papers, I found myself getting up every five minutes to wash something, clear away something, make some sort of food or beverage, take a temperature, or check to see if someone was alright. I read Post-Secret and almost started baling right there on my computer. I packed up my stuff, went to a coffee shop and forced myself to shut-down and write for a few hours, then I get the message from Meimei: "Can you borrow my husband tonight?"
So I figure what the hell? I can make a couple hours to spend with someone who will distract me from my emo, and I agree. Meimei's husband... we shall call him Tsume... asks me to meet him at the same coffee shop we tend to go do homework at, but as I'm driving there he tells me plans have changed. When I get to the coffe shop he tells me he's made reservations elsewhere because he was very very hungry. I end up driving us both to a restaurant he won't tell me the name of, while he navigates from my passenger seat... Finally we arrive at the place, and lo! and behold! he is taking me out for fondue!!! Complete new experience for me, and about the most romantic way to eat food that I've ever experienced! Slowly over the course of dipping breads, veggies and fruits in bubbling cheese, my heart starts to let go of it's angst. Over yummy tid-bits dipped in simmering chocolate my heart begins to positively lift and lighten... And then Tsume sends me into peals of giggles by asking "I hope this date wasn't too cheesy for you?" The laugh I needed, the cheese I needed, the 6 hours of alternately slow and wild love-making that followed I needed. And at long last, e fell asleep i my arms, and I got up, wrote 2 of my papers, pounced my Darcia for one last round of good, active fun, and then I curled back up in Tsume's arms until he had to wake and run off to work.

I ambled over to my own room and curled in next to my poor, pekid Kiba and held him until I slept and he woke to run off to work...

It's hard to maintain the morass of angst in one's soul when there are such wonderful people in her life. Tsume reminded me yesterday how far I have fled from neo-con land, and all my men reinforced for me that I never ever have to go back. Today I felt in a good place psychologically, but I'm quite convinced that I need to go get the head-shrinking and possibly pharm-fixes so that I can face visits with the relatives without having a several-day angst-fest afterward...

Another "happy" holiday...

Sat, 29 Nov 2008 09:22:53 GMT

Trip to the lands of my blood-kin complete.
Turkey consumed.
Too much wine consumed.
Hang-over completed.
Strange derivations of Bridge played
Five solid hours of tongue-biting successful.
Interminable car-trip finished.

Now I'm back home.
People are gaming in my living room.
Other people are sleeping in every bedroom.
Tomorrow there is schlepping of heavy furniture.
Tomorrow there is giving of thanks for not having to make the trip to Farmington for Christmas.
Tomorrow I forget about the people who hurt me, called me bad things, and made me feel worthless for 18 years.
Tomorrow I forget about having to bite my tongue for days to avoid embarrassing someone by speaking the truth.
Tomorrow I make up for the loss of 72 hours of warmth, peace, and sanity.
Tomorrow I make up for the pain of time spent with my blood relations.
Tomorrow I remember what makes me a person worth knowing.
Tomorrow I remember why life is a wonderful thing.
Tomorrow I spend with the people I love.
Tomorrow I spend with my family.
Tomorrow will be the happy Thanksgiving I've been wanting.

the L-word

Fri, 21 Nov 2008 20:33:18 GMT

four simple letters
and in the white-space between
vast worlds of meaning

Yup, decided how I feel and the 2x4-packing muse confirmed it in the middle of a midterm this morning...

Ok... this new presence DOES complicate my life

Sat, 15 Nov 2008 19:52:14 GMT

or at least my emotional state. I'm very not me right now. I've talked to both Kiba and Darcia about the events that transpired last week. I've told them about the dropping of the L-word. I've told them that I don't even begin to know how to define how I feel. Kiba reminded me of a day back when we were 16, and he instantly knew he was in love. It took me 3 years and endless teenage drama to realize that was the word for what I felt too. Is this situation like that one? I have no bloody clue!!! I feel something. That feeling steals me of my ability to speak coherently and act rationally at times. I'm bloody well writing bad poetry for crying out loud!!! What's worse, we haven't had opportunity to really sit and communicate uninterrupted since he dropped the L-bomb on my life. That was semi-intended for last night, but then there was a minor drama with his awesome wife confronting a fear. I did the right thing by putting my own exploration of emotion on-hold to fortify my relationship with said awesome wife (we shall call her Meimei) But the end result is that I'm left in the same morass of wonderment with no more answers and much more stewing involved. I'm creeping up on that point of beginning to be afraid to talk about things, and I don't want to go there. I know in putting myself on-hold, I fortified not only my relationship with Meimei, but her relationship with Kiba, and also her marriage. (That whole, wow! hubby isn't dating an evil, conniving bitch thing.... I'm totally in-sinc with Meimei on this feeling... it's nice) That feels very good. And yet it also adds that veneer of guilt to my feelings of wanting to get my own emotions hashed-out. I don't have time for this, but I WANT... possibly NEED to make time. I'm composing letter after letter to send and then chickening out on sending them. It's like I'm frickin' 15 again and I want to kick myself for my junior-high-drama-bullshit, but I can't focus on anything... AAAAAAAAAAA!!!! Brain 'Splosion!!!!! Also doesn't help that when we might have talked over matters at breakfast this morning I was in an awkward social situation and did the "I'm too shy to even try to talk to you" thing >.< GAH! I haven't done that since BEFORE I went to Tech.... I'm regressing so damned bad I don't recognize myself...

ok... venting accomplised, let's see if I can pull some productivity out of my day...

he loves me

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 02:39:48 GMT

My kiba found a yummy new girlfriend. They have a delightfully comfy and casual relationship that is good for both. yummy girlfriend has a husband... I was not expecting to be attracted... I was not expecting to get physical... I was very much taken by surprise when he confessed that he feels he is in love with me. I... am not sure how to feel. I enjoy his company very much. I adore his wife, she is something special and good for my kiba. Him, this new presence in my life, he is wonderful... and startling... and surprising... and has brought someting into my life that I didn't even know was missing... he is tall, and strong, and built rather like a nordic god, and I feel petite and delicate in his embrace... treasured as though I were a jewel of immeasurable beauty. I don't yet know if this unexpected emotion complicates my life, but if it does, I think it's a complication I'm willing to embrace...

happy Pagan dance

Mon, 09 Jun 2008 21:42:39 GMT

Today one of my new classmates caught me in the hall and told me I looked familiar. I've felt the same about her, but couldn't place where we might have met. She pursued the question, not accepting that I "simply have one of those faces" which I do, but that's beside the point... Finally she asked me if I had any association with SWEFA, and then we realized that we had prepared the yoni together a few years back at my first Beltaine. I can't say how good it feels to have someone in my class I can talk with openly about faith and spirituality. That was one of the great difficulties I faced in my former class. With exactly 2 exceptions, the class was either Spanish-Catholic or some breed of Conservative-Christian. From the close-minded hatred I earned from presenting the faith of Islam in a positive light -- which I was assigned as part of the Sociology curriculum -- I got a pretty good idea that to be outside the white-picket-fence bubble was an unforgivable social transgression. I'm already less afraid of having to fit neatly in that mold with this group. Looks like I may indeed be sky-clad under my sundress after all ^_^

If you wear a dress too long, it begins to fit

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 03:38:58 GMT

Today I blushed and was honestly embarrassed when Kiba caught me looking at gang-bang porn on the internet... Embarrasses about port-viewing in front of a man who is deeply kinky... wtf??!? It dawned on me while his shaft was tucked inside me and we were both coming down from a good orgasm and cuddled in one-another's arms... I have been wearing the proper sundress and pearls to go with my white-picket-fence too long in public. I have convinced some part of myself that I really am the vanilla façade I present. It is troubling to me that I'm fading back into the closet... That is a small, dark, lonely place that I do not wish to be... Now comes the question of how to remove the sundress and pearls and get back into my corset and fuck-me-pumps...

Soreness

Mon, 05 May 2008 00:27:28 GMT

The quads are really the only muscles people think of in their upper legs. Today, however, I'm very very conscious of my sartorius... well both of them actually... See, I strained them on Wednesday, and they still hurt. Now one might wonder why I post that on this journal. In short, it's how I strained the muscles. Lesson learned: before marathon sexcapades... remember to do butterfly-stretches to warm up that long, thin, flat muscle between the hip and the knee... Otherwise one truly does walk funny for days, if she can even walk at all...

Some names have been changed to protect the guilty

Thu, 01 May 2008 14:13:54 GMT

Woke up while it was still dark this morning... Couldn't go back to sleep due to a semi-agitated state... Kiba-chan was still sleeping, beautiful and peaceful in the fading light of the moon. I couldn't bring myself to wake him just yet as I kept him out very late last night. Instead I took my wonderful little portable Mac into the quiet dark of the spare bedroom and set about to writing. Though it's likely not the best I've ever put my fingers to the keys for, it's served part of it's purpose already... The act of writing my lust focused my energy to a naughty little goal... Kiba didn't get to bicycle to work this morning, as I courteously waited until after he'd had breakfast to accost him in the hall and have my way with him... In a few short hours my warcraft buddy will be waking to find some inspiration in his inbox... I do need to find a pet-name for him for my journaling needs, but the real one I have for him is... way too silly and cute... Anyhow, for your reading pleasure:

Last night was a long one for me, and even longer for you. I fell to sleeping with little more than the taste of your lips upon mine and the thought of your arms holding me. I woke in a terrible state of need and longing, my dreams trough the night peppered with heady images of unabashed lust. Softly as a summer breeze, I slip now between the sheets where you are sleeping, your body welcomingly warm in the chill pre-dawn darkness. I find you by touch, my gently questing fingers dancing along your form from shoulder to thigh… each soft exploration a phantom kiss of the breeze…

Soft and smooth is my hand laid upon your thigh as I slip my whole self between the covers beside you… Soft and sweet is my kiss, though not upon our cheek or lips… My questing mouth has found the smooth skin of your slowly waking manhood. Softly a my fingers explored now does my tongue… A slow circle around the head of your shaft brings a welcome rush of sensation, and a twitch of waking that I can feel all the way through my own being. I do not know how your dreams have changed to admit the new sensation, but your soft moan at least lets me think the have made the transition well… I smile to myself, and whisper my own moan along the swiftly taughtening skin of your growing erection… Each downward stroke of my lips finds you stiffer, each long pull up from the hilt of your manhood takes longer to find and caress the engorged head…

Your moans shift from soft whispers to deep groans as you come fully hard under my unrelentingly soft touch… My slow caresses gently, gently bringing you to full arousal well before full wakefulness sets in…

I know you have woken now, as my hands questing up our chest feel an instant of rigidness in your muscles as the confusion of realization settles upon you. I slide my lips all the way from your shaft to whisper breathily “Hello, Lover, are you having happy dreams?” I feel your deep moan of pleased recognition rumble through the whole of your body as I spread myself sinuously along your side and nuzzle my face against your neck…

One soft, gentle hand takes the place of my lips upon your swollen shaft, stroking lightly to keep you interested but less than fulfilled… “I dreamed about you all night,” the whisper in your ear causes you no less tingle of sensation than the slow caress of tongue on earlobe that follows it. “Did you dream a little dream of me, too?”

“Ahhh… god yes” your deep sigh confirms your need as your arms wrap around me and you slide me up to straddle you…
I look down to see your eyes dark and half lidded, your skin shimmering slightly in the light of the breaking dawn… I seem to almost glow, pale and naked in the soft light of near-morning. I smile languidly as I inch my hips back… back…

You feel a warm wet caress along the whole length of your manhood as I position myself without use of my hands… You feel radiant heat slowly surround the engorged head, enfolding you almost as deftly, and quite as snugly as my lips did moments ago, I feel the first tremor of desperately desired fulfillment inch it’s way down my spine… Your moan of pleasure as my already tight passage clamps tighter around you causes another shiver of desire to ripple through me. Slowly I begin to rock myself, taking more of you inside wit each pass… my lips gripping my lower lip, I force myself to keep my eyes open against my mounding waves of pleasure so I can watch the desire on your face shift inexorably toward ecstasy… I feel control of myself slipping… slipping, and my hips grind faster and faster … I lose the battle to keep m eyes open as they roll back and my arcing back forces my face to the sky “Ah god, yes!” My gasped scream accompanies the first pouring of orgasm along your shaft, my hands griping your shoulders tight for moments as I buck my release fiercely along your shaft…

Slowly my heaving breath comes back under my control. I look down into your eyes and a blush warms my cheeks. “Sorry, couldn’t hold back, lover, you make me too hot…” You grin up at me and reply “Don’t worry, little Minx, I’m not don with you yet…”

Your hands, already on my hips, take a tighter hold and lift me up and down your shaft a few times until I have control over my knees enough to move on my own again… slowly at first… gently… then harder and faster… We meet the speed and rhythm which released me before, and exceed it. My little gasps and moans becoming full screams in counter-point to your own deep rumbles of pleasure as we climb closer and closer… Your warm hands slide to my waist for better purchase on my writhing, pounding body… You feel yourself growing impossibly hard inside the furnace of my womanhood… I feel the tightness in your body as if it were my own… “god, yes… please…” I whisper in that moment when neither of us can carry a whit more tension… Both of us pause for a brief second, reveling in the bowstring-tight sensation of potential energy quivering through both our bodies…

Hard, sudden release shatters the world! Our twin moans of ecstasy a harmony of fulfilled desire. My molten orgasm flows down over your shaft, your thighs… down to soak the sets below… Your seed bursts into me, wave after wave, pulsing until I am impossibly full of you, and you are deliciously empty…

“Good morning, little Minx,” you whisper as I lay panting on your chest, the tremors of my orgasm still coursing trough me for a good long while after you are composed… “M-morning, my Lover,” I sigh softly, my breath only catching a little now, “I missed you while I was sleeping…”

“I can tell,” your chuckle ripples through me as I lay cuddled against your body while the rest of the world slowly wakes…

and when she was bad...

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 16:43:26 GMT

phone sex is a particular kink I'd rather forgotten I had... I don't think I've engaged in any in several years. Yet last night I felt the calling... in more ways than one...

While I've seen pictures of my telephone lover, they were old, poor quality and possibly not at all accurate. What I know of him is his voice. It is mild and calm, the sound much as one would imagine a slow stream washing over well smoothed stones. His is not a voice I immediately fell in lust with, but the more we talk, the father I seem to wade into the stream, and the more I feel the heady sensation of under-tow.

It is no secret that one of my greatest guilty pleasures is the sound of my lover's voice talking dirty to me... well, not even necessarily talking dirty... my lover could be reciting Vogon poetry, so long as I could hear the strain of excitement and the tones were properly shaped to feel as caresses. The reach-out-and-touch fest last night definitely proved that a certain Warcraft buddy of mine possesses the power to caress with his voice. The end result was a very sexually charged cheza, and some energetic birthday sex for Kiba-chan.

Part of me wonders if I should feel odd, embarrassed or ashamed for my late-night phone-rompings... Part of me is worried that it is wrong somehow to take the lust imparted by a friend with whom I may never have physical contact and apply the results between the sheets with my husband. Yet this day more of me feels content to simply revel in the energy and the contentment of putting a smile on Kiba-chan's face before he wondered off to work... And most of me is just glowing with well-sexed joy...

My name is Cheza_ko, and I am kinky

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 07:11:57 GMT

Kink, fetish, fantasy... Each word has it's proper dictionary definition, but in practice they rather blur into one-another and the lines become quite fuzzy. Kinky becomes the broader term, I guess, to cover the fetishists (who get sexually aroused by specific stimuli which others may or may not even associate with sex) and the hard-core role-players who go all out to plan and carry-out fantasy (though RP is often considered a fetish itself).

To derail my pedantic nature...

I have a kink. A solid, measurable kink that pretty well gets me into the play mindset every time. I am aroused by talking dirty on the internet with people I do not know in-person. Perhaps it's because I'm a tease. Any how, I will outright admit I've been doing cyber in chatrooms and BBSes since before it was legal for me to do so, and in all this time I've never become bored with it.

Last night was no exception.

I actually know his real name, and I even have his email now. Before last night, though, we simply called one-another by the names of our characters in-game. Yes... I cybered with one of my Warcraft friends... And damn was he good at it.

I've known for 6months that he has had a not insignificant crush on me. Though it wasn't until last night (when he logged on completely inebriated and rather frustrated from a long day of the work-grind) that I found out the extent of it. He confessed in his drunken state that he fantasizes about me... somewhat regularly. Of course this was immediately followed by reams of apologies...

Here is where I'm not like most women. The idea that a man I don't know in-person, that I have never seen, and only recognize as an animated graphic in an online game fantasizes about me turns me on. There is definitely something not in the main-stream about encouraging said distant admirer to keep thinking the thoughts... to tell them to you... to participate in the fantasy with colorful descriptions of technique and sensation. Most good little housewives don't do this, and I'm pretty sure most single women don't either. But there is something about that act that I find completely erotic, and I cannot restrain myself from plunging in when the opportunity arises.

The night stretched into morning with me at the keyboard, rading descriptions of sexual acts... Eventually we transferred to voice-chat... free hands let you caress yourself while you talk... distance from the screen lets you close your eyes and just picture the acts... For the first time in a while, last night a man talked me to climax from hundreds of miles away... Last night I made the same man orgasm for me twice...

I finished the morning by waking my sleeping husband with some excellent fellatio, and proceeded to have very real, hot, sticky, energetic, eyes-wide-open sex. And then I was finally satisfied. But I'm about to log back into game... and there's tat part of me hoping that a certain Tauren Warrior is online too...

reflecting

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 08:59:02 GMT

The sharp intake of breath is what gives it away, that and the momentary pause of all motion. The heartbeat before the guttural groan of pleasure reaffirms... I will hold with me that moment... I will keep with me the knowledge of your pleasure... I will remember that those claws raking your skin were mine... I will recall that I explored every last inch of you with my eyes... and fingers... and lips... For that single second, I held your mind and fired your passion... For that moment I intrigued... distracted... claimed...

You may forget me tomorrow, or you may remember me always... You may remember only that I crept from your side in the night and dawn found you alone... Perhaps my flight intrigued you enough to bring you back to partake of my charms once more... Perhaps not... I took from you the fulfillment of a long held desire... I gave at least the sating of a temporary lust...

To the future now, one morning's dawn at a time...

I miss...

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 14:38:14 GMT

I miss the chill kiss of dew on my toes...
I miss the tingling caress of the dawn breeze upon my skin...
I miss the wink of the dawnstar as I danced for her, clad only in sky...
I miss the knowledge that there was no human eye to see my greeting of the morning...
I miss the silence and stillness of a sleeping world about to wake...

The city does not sleep...
There is always someone watching...
The dawn breeze blows not but the stench of the dieing river...
No grass is planted here to collect dewy kisses...

So I pull the drapery tightly closed, and dance inside...
I remember...
I dream...
I wait.

Things that make you go hmmmm...

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 02:34:02 GMT

So my "best friend" has been so since we were in 1st grade. That's around 22 years... a lot of history for a person... It's hard to overcome the inertia of that kind of history, but it can be done.

I've decided I'm going to follow her boyfriend's advice, but not for his reasons. My friend of 22 years, we'll call her Beth, is a bad influence on me. Her sister isn't much better. The sister can be somewhat forgiven for her "holier than thou" attitude. She's been through a lot and society hasn't been forgiving or treated her well. She rather had to develop the attitude to survive. Beth is where she is, or is not, by choice. Perhaps she has secretly hated me all these years because I had nothing and was still happy while people knocked themselves out to make her happy and she was still miserable. Attitude determines interpretation of life experience, and Beth has a bad attitude. She has never liked herself and as a result she doesn't like anything else. Every third statement this weekend was an insult slung at someone or something. Most of the time it was preceded by the phrase "no offense, but..." I finally got tired enough of the phrase on the first night to tell her I'd figured out she was simply offensive by nature and she could drop the preamble. She can't take what she dishes, so I was regularly reminded of the slight for the rest of her visit.

I'm going to HAVE to out myself to my family because of this visit due to an impromptu rope-bondage demo that happened unplanned while my "friends" were visiting. Also because one of the sister's co-workers came into her office while she was sending me the warning e-mail about Beth's boyfriend's attitude. The sister doesn't really know how to not answer a question, or tactfully tell someone it's not their business, so hooray my life is grist for the rumor mill hundreds of miles from where I live. I have to tell my family because my "friend" works with my mother, and in her gossiping to the other co-worker, she slipped in who I was related to in the organization. It's going to bite my mother in the ass, because that's just how small towns are and just the kind of environment schools create among educators. So for her own sake, I need to fore-warn my mother.

The end result of the visit from "old friends" is that I finally understand why I hate the town I grew up in so much. I am not worthless. I am not a blight on society. I am not dangerous to myself and others just because I don't have a set black-and-white view of the world that matches everyone else in the provincial hamlet of my youth. Most of all, I am a real person with real feelings, and no person has right or cause to treat me like dirt unless I give them that right or cause. I have spent my entire life trying very hard to bolster the self-worth of others, often at great cost to myself. Neither Beth nor her sister are really worth that effort to me anymore. Beth is moving to Albuquerque in the fall and I doubt we shall cross paths. This doesn't bother me because I quite simply do not wish to become like her (depressed, self-loathing, and cruel). If she decides to become like me (happy, well-adjusted and successful) she will damn well have to do it on her own. As for the sister, I'll do as much damage control as I can and make damn sure that I spend as little time around her as possible. I will go further and re-learn my own ability to tactfully tell her that my life is not her business.

Guard your girlfriends, men, the bisexual and polyamorous are out there...

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 01:04:30 GMT

I may be getting to see my oldest friend this weekend. We have been friends since we met in 1st grade, but her boyfriend does not want her to see me while she's in my town because I'm "a bad influence and will get her to sleep with other people." WTF?!?

This is the ass-hole that cheats on her, tries to lie about it, and wants to move to a new apartment putting both my friend and the other woman under the same roof, but I'm the one who is "bad." My friend has known for years that I'm poly and she hasn't started sleeping with every man on the planet just because I have 2 and an occasional third. And just because poly works for me doesn't mean I expect it to work for anyone else. I don't run to my happily monogamous friends and tell them they are wrong for keeping to one partner. I don't tell the other students at school to swear off their boyfriends or girlfriends.

The ass-hole has made a mistake though, I'm damned well going to make his prophecy self-fulfilling if I can. Then again, if my friend has really lost so many braincells that she is willing to live with the ass-hole for the rest of her life, I guess I can always close that chapter. I can only try to save a damsel in distress so many times before I'm ready to just watch the dragon eat her.

The power of the specs...

Wed, 14 Jun 2006 19:45:52 GMT

I had never seen him in glasses before. Yes, I knew he wore contacts... Imperfect eye-sight seems the norm in my world, so the thought never occurrs... until you see the boy in a set of specs, and they just give the "something" that makes the shallow visual-arousal bits of your brain go "yah, everybody's right, he is hot."

There is something about a man in glasses that turns me on. No it's not a dark, twisted secret like the tentacle thing... It's really a main-stream kind of fetish, I think... The right specs make a man look educated, intellectual, distinguished... The right specs make a girl look innocent, unworldly or she can look over the frames just so and she gives the sense that she has deeply held desires bursting to be explored... if only you will show her the way... I guess a man could look over his glasses just so and give the same kind of impression, but it's a general rule that I'm not attracted to shy or inexperienced men. Oh, I do admit there have been one or two extremely notable exceptions...

I digress...

His glasses made me take a second look. I feel rather a bit shallow confessing that thought... When I looked, I realized he'd also put on a few inches of height... Back around November there was an almost between us. Mostly it was common interest in another boy and a little too much alcohal on my part... But still there was that "almost"

Almost means something different now... I debate whether I want a second try at the challenge he presents when i am not exhausted... His touch is something to be sought after, a subtle balance between the light, hesitant exploration of the young and eager, and the firm, commanding touch of someone well versed in the art of seduction. It was an unplanned encounter, and I am all the more pleased for that fact. I think I might have turned coward had I come with intent. I think if he had thought much about concequences or engagement before he was unclothed next to me he may well have decided not to go forward...

Technically speaking we had a fling. I now feel myself in that awkward space of wanting to know if he wants more without wanting to give up knowledge of what I want... Of course that would assume that I know wheter or not I want more than the one try... I watch my Darcia and his girlfriend, and know from them the joy of discovery... I watch my Kiba and his girlfriend an know from them the wicked glee that comes from converting innocence to experience. Then I wonder if this mouseling's seeming innocence belies a greater depth of thought and experience... The glasses lend strength to this particular vein of wishful thinking...

An yet, I realize that the ball is not so much in my court. He decides his own moves as much as I do mine, and he presents an enigma to me with his silence... Then again, I likely present the same... There is an answer, a simple one at that... I guess I'll just have to fire up my IMs when next I am onlie at home...

Fri, 07 Apr 2006 06:46:53 GMT

I bit the pillow so I would not scream and wake the sleepers who had work in the morning. I dug my fingers into the mattress, feeling the acrylic tips attempt to part themselves from the natural nail. I tried not to scream...

But when it is hard and fast and deep... When his teeth sink into the flesh of your back and your neck, when the fingers wrap themselves around your shoulders or your hips and pull you even harder against the firm planes of his body... When the whisper in your ear is a demand, not a request... It is very difficult not to scream. It is very difficult not to beg for him never to stop... It is just as hard not to beg for the pleasure of his release... In that moment, when you are helpless against your own desire, and little more than a writhing rag-doll in his embrace, the only thought that comes is the desperate hope that he wants this as much as you, that he needs this as much as you.

Then you feel it... The hot, wet proof of exactly how very much he enjoyed your inter-play, poured over the skin of your back... He collapses next to you, tender and vulnerable now in the moment after release... He pulls you to his body and asks if he was too rough, or too demanding... He slides his fingers gently over the flesh marked by his teeth... He smooths away the red impressions of his own fingers... He worries aloud that he was too rough, or too demanding... Then it is to the victim (only moments before screaming into a pillow) to tell her assailant that he did only what she wanted, what she requested. And every word is true...

ONE WORD:

Sat, 12 Nov 2005 01:56:22 GMT

Describe me in one word - just one.
Comment to me, then post this entry to your LJ
and see how many strange things people think about you.

yah, sometimes I'm a meme whore...

Tue, 08 Nov 2005 23:08:11 GMT

There are moments which defy definition.

I have had many of them of late.

I must sometime soon refine my memories into words and post them, so as to ever have the memories when time fades the sensations.