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Monday, May 1st, 2017
5:51 pm
My sweetie is very sensual. I've decided my favorite is when he is getting dressed and still has his shirt off, his long hair disheveled.

My other favorite is when we grab each other by the hips and pull toward each other as hard as we can. I'm getting the hang of his cock.

Since hooking up with Jason again, Jeff's is decidedly very smooth, like a dildo. It's hard to tell what's going on when we're fucking, especially when I get really wet. Jason's has a lot of movement and texture, and feels rough but amazing. His libido is hit or miss, while Jeff wants me to use his morning wood to my advantage and that makes him the best. In that particular area.

Jason sincerely loves me, and we have this wacky world of art that we share, and it's the most beautiful thing.

I want to help Jeff rebuild his house. Bring order to the chaos. He is eating a giant elephant, patiently, one bite at a time.

Life is so packed with good things, it is confusing. I hope I can wrangle it into a good, useful, helpful life.

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Wednesday, April 12th, 2017
2:49 pm
It surprises me to look back and realize I was with someone who was utterly smitten with me, but was so afraid of getting hurt that he couldn't express it. He had spurts of confiding his deep regret for that. Still does. We had a nice time on the touristy lane of an island, got stoned, went to the museum. We were mesmerized by parakeet feathers and fern curlies and bronze casting, and spoke Artish to each other in a way that is very rare in my life. That was exactly what I wanted with him, to speak a common language that was meaningful to us both.

I cuddled with him, because it seemed like just the thing to do. Old habits die hard, you know. He froze, and though I was shy I didn't recoil. But it wasn't until the final goodbye hug that he kissed me. It was nice. I'm glad he did that. He felt comfortable enough, himself.

Strange overlap, though. The harder we break up, the closer we get. Perhaps someday we'll even out.

Jeff is super lovely. Not a high-maintenance moustache boy. Normal and blessedly straight-forward. I am not worried about leading him astray from his path, which is locked in with his son and his property. I just hope one day I don't confuse it with callousness. The worst that could happen I guess would be he stone-cold cuts contact. Which would be stupid. He's not the vanishing type, even if he'd want to be.

I just want him to play Chopin for me on my piano and periodically make out. He smells nice. I even appreciate his breath and his sweat and his cock. Sensuous and soft and seductive. Clever and cultured. Nice. Firm.

Of course, I get the impression lots of ladies feel this way. He likes threesomes. It's kind of him to present me with tit options at our local goth club, I just don't operate that way. One can't overcome one's terror of women overnight, however nice their titties. But I'm willing to test that hypothesis.

I say firm, but he's still so yielding. Perhaps he's reflecting me. I don't know why this uncertainty. I mean, I finally came for the first time after about 5 weeks. That's got to be a record, honestly.

Still not sure what I want from *him.* Appreciation, I suppose. I can admire all sorts of people, and it's a pleasure to be able to admire him.

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Sunday, March 12th, 2017
8:04 pm - Jeff.
Oh the sick sad 2012 me. That went on for way too long.
Fortunately, we did have some good times before finally calling it quits. We went to the museum and saw several of Picasso's minotaurs, and I told him that I love him because he is a monster. Might be the truest statement I've made.

We separated. I waited. I let the him-shaped hole cave in, and resigned myself for single at last, savoring the solitude. And suffering from no one to blame for my inattention to my work.

Shortly after breaking up, last summer, I went to a private party at a classy, boozy establishment with delicious food, lots of friends, fancy liquor, and very flattering lighting. I may have sparked things up a little with an old cuddle buddy. I may even have written about him here, TEN YEARS BACK. Holy shit.

But he's very passive. I felt frustrated by his complete disinterest in pursuing me, merely okay with putting his penis in me. We cuddle good, but, sigh.

Oh, yes. And that's where I met Jeff. My second Jeff. These names always come in pairs. I could barely stop myself from giggling at that as I shook his hand for the first time, knowing in my heart of hearts like Chris Rock says, "I'mma fuck him." And another goddamn repeat name for my roster.

It took a while. He was beginning proceeds for a divorce. I waited for the right opportunity to invite him to coffee or something, as we had suggested.

One of my friends said he saw a guy fall hard for me. It seemed that way. I hadn't felt so pleased with myself in a long, long time.

So February rolls around. Goddamn Valentine's Day, making me reflect on what situation I would ideally want at that time. Not necessarily a life partner. A lover, for sure. Somebody I respect, who makes me want to do more and better. Just somebody hot to grind up against.

That was Saturday. Jeff and I had coffee on Sunday. Then he mentioned a dance night he was going to, which I dressed up and tagged along for. Man, I missed going out dancing.

I danced my booty off, confident I wouldn't feel like an idiot. We didn't hang out together much, commingling with our respective friends in the crowd, watching go-go dancers suspended by ropes. My roommate found me and while we were chatting, Jeff was distinctly non-chuffed but polite. Never thwart his conquest. Finally he joined me on the dance floor, reaching for me from behind and pulling me to face him nose to nose, and swaying simply. He hugged me tight, and we inhaled each other's fragrance. Several nuzzles later, our lips finally met, and I kissed him like I'd found gold in his tonsils. Haha. So graceful. He wanted to take me to his car.

It wasn't my intention to work so quickly, but in our time together I found myself standing up straighter, and taken with his honesty. Plus, clean-shaven, he was ten times sexier than I'd remembered him.

He's got the kind of sloped nose you want nuzzled in your neck, or between your tits. He has kind of a buck-toothed smile, which is my number-one turn-on, I can't say why. Although stocky, he works out and has a deliciously narrow waist and a cute little dimpled ass. Luxuriant chest hair, and muscles you can feel working against you. Unf.

Contrasting his strength and go-gettiveness, he's very yielding so far. He will suggest things verbally, and talk dirty a lot. But he's content to lay back and be my beautiful fuck toy. He likes to come on top, fucking fast and hard. Having a man who smells nice shoot cum inside of me is the most amazingly blissful sensation, it makes me laugh with joy.

We devour each other in cuddles, and I still can't get enough. Just what is it I want from him, I wonder? We need to engage in more dynamic physical interaction if we are to progress. I hope that we can tango. Literally and figuratively.

current mood: wistful

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Saturday, August 4th, 2012
5:10 am
Can I talk about how dead my sex life is?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But really, who else do I talk to about it?

The biting and the hitting became too much. I didn't strictly ask him to stop, but from the way I would burst into tears he gathered that I wasn't that into it. And since he's not able to hit me, he's not able to have sex with me, either. Certainly not with a condom.

Condoms are great, in my book. They've been a godsend throughout my twenties. I started out my 33rd year with an abortion. That's a whole other story.

I can't remember what sex is like, at this point. And between me and him, there's too much tension about it, or something. He sleeps on the couch. The fucking couch. I feel like I don't even have a boyfriend, just a depressed alcoholic roommate who tells me what I can't hang on the walls. I keep asking myself why I accommodate for some thing I don't even want.

He cares about how much he weighs, but I don't. If he weighed 300 pounds I'd still want to fuck him. But he doesn't want to fuck me. I suppose he does, but not very much. I wonder every day just what he wants with me.

I need to move out. I would say that it's not necessarily breaking up with him, but I don't imagine he would come to my place to fuck me on a regular basis. But at least with my own place, that would be a new scenario. I was living at home, and visiting his house where he would promptly go to sleep. And that's our life living together, now.

I don't remember what it's like to feel attractive, to well up with unbearable desire. The last couple of times he got his dick out, he couldn't finish.

He said he would be with me until I said I was done. I'm feeling pretty done, here. I'm not happy. I don't see him doing things to make me happy, either. And I don't see him putting up a fight when the time comes for me to move on.

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Wednesday, April 20th, 2011
6:10 pm
I've always wanted to sex blog while riding the bus.

I'm extremely horny,which hopefully means I'm about to have my period, and not a fetus. It's been so long since I've dealt with spooge, I'm a little paranoid. Ugh. Where do the *chunks* cum from???

Well. This guy is in deep with me, it seems. Makes me worry a little. We just need time, though.

he's not the greatest in bed so far, but he makes me feel sexy, which is something N couldn't do. I come away with marks on my body every time,from his biting. A little something for me to check out in the restroom mirror at work and go, "awwww yeah. I'm tough."

I'm determined at this point to have an orgasm with him, some time. With his eagerness to appear passionate and assertive, he wears himself, and me, out too soon. He likes to take the top, which I figured with my frequent passive tendencies would work out fine. But if he can't make me come that way, it's time to take charge.

the more time passes, the more I realize what a boon Jon was as a long-term, monogamous boyfriend. We had sex just about every day, which for me is hunky-dory. I was blissfully unaware of the common issue of maintaining erections. Jon was actually pretty physically active,and we were pretty well in sync with how often we wanted to do it. We were, outwardly, such a mismatched couple, but seemingly a perfect match sexually. Still, his kisses were like big wet suction cups. And he didn't treat my body like a medallion of filet mignon so much as a Costco ham. He ate the way he fucked: economically, and in large portions.

But back to J. He has shown himself capable of tenderness and intense intimacy. That's what can get me off. Oh. And it's nice.

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Tuesday, March 22nd, 2011
9:05 pm
The infatuation has been seeing someone else without telling me. I fasted, I cut my hair, he thinks my reaction was "melodramatic."

Fuck his pimply "taut" ass. Thank god I don't have to wipe it anymore.

Last Memorial Day weekend, I volunteered at Folklife, unemployed and bored. I tended a mailing-list kiosk with a guy named Jason, who reminded me a big of Chris C., only more active. I forget how, but after our shift we just wound up hanging out together, watching the live music. We exchanged facebooks, kept in touch. I think he contacted me about having coffee, at some point? Maybe it was another volunteer gig. Anyway, I'd made a new friend. He didn't seem to be "available" but, my pants seemed to quiver in a peculiar way around him. We were comfortable together.

He IMed me and asked about my post, regarding being "cheated" on by my "best friend." I told him, rather extensively. He gave sympathy, though said that my giving the guy hell via email was a bit cowardly. I did it that way because the guy was "really very busy."

Anyway. "If it makes you feel any better, I have a crush on you," he said. This put a really big smile on my face.

"Thanks. I have a crush on you, too." Then I happily let him go out on his date.

Later, he sent me a message. Since saying so, he'd noticed his crush on me is actually pretty real. I told him that, regardless of relationship potential, we should hang out more.

He met me one Monday for Draw Night. He'd dressed up head to toe in hipster vintage polyester, completed by his cheshire grin and fancy whiskers.

He'd planned for us to step away from the group to a hole-in-the-wall bar he'd just heard of. We ate there, and drank rather a lot, and he stumbled me to my bus stop, where he laid one on me. It was hotter than I'd imagined.

Two days later, sober, I thought my lymph nodes were acting up, then remembered where he bit me so ardently on the neck. Yowch. They're not kidding about Scorpios.

We hastily made a date for the weekend. We met at the Alibi Room so he could show me his wheat pastings on the brick walls outside. He had pasted a large print-out of a robot drawing. The raised hand had peeled loose, and was waving.

He took me home and cooked me a delicious dinner. He told me to bring a movie, so I got "Brothers Bloom" and "Mary and Max." We lounged. Eventually we kissed. Very soon, we did more than kiss.

Now, I have almost never, in my sexual career, gone bareback. And I'm not necessarily the most eager, OR trusting person. But for some reason, there was hardly any question, and we flowed together in that most natural position.

I got the worst charlie horses, plural. Not enough water. And he wasn't even going full steam, apparently.

On a different note, he's the oldest person I've been with. I actually thought he was ten years younger. Perfect. I thought I'd be in for more of the breaking in young bucks, and when I found out his real age my jaw dropped, and I was SO turned on. He has grey hairs. Oh, lordy!

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Monday, December 20th, 2010
3:00 pm
I have to assure myself that this ongoing thing of guys being otherwise occupied with other ladies is just a human thing. I'm still recalling a time not too many years ago when the boys I encountered were practically virgins, their hearts mostly intact. Not to mention that I myself have my own heart tangled up in a couple of different people. I just can't stand competition, which is why I don't bother to play, which is probably why I'm nobody's top priority at this time; I don't demand it. I guess you have to demand it, to snap guys out of their wishy-washy commitment-phobia. My PC side is anxious not to be labeled as an ultimatum-giver. God forbid!

That said, there is no one I would ask that of, really. Commitment, prioritization, because I don't know if I can really do that justice. The guy I love best lives far away, and he has always made it clear that I am not going to be the most important thing in his life. I'd rather he focused on his art, which is what I love him for anyway, and have been supporting all this time.

I guess I just want to re-claim my heart from all those entanglements, before I get snagged up anywhere else. It takes time, patience, thoughtfulness. It takes nurturing, love from other people and myself. Nothing new, there.

I was at a holiday party last weekend, and two people were there whom I had some physical connection with. Both were a fond, relaxing presence that I craved to be around, and both were involved with ladies who were also at the party. Which is fine. But I will not partake of their presence if it means their girlfriends being insecure about it. I'm pretty sick of that. No matter how openly poly people are, there are always insecurities to attend to, protocol to follow. And all so I can be some guy's Number-Three Gal. YAWN.

By the next morning I felt I'd worn out my welcome, a bit. So I'm probably done, for a while, with bringing my broken-hearted shit to their already-complicated table for some kind of Poly free-lovin' comfort. I'm too fond of them to be a bother. Any Poly knows that it ain't really free. My monogomous ass is mistaking intimacy for commitment, again.

This is perhaps a good indication of my solidifying what I want, with sincerity, and identifying how I go about things wrong. What makes it hard to face is condemning all of my current relationships as terminally insufficient. No hope of shoe-horning them into my preferred situation. Which means I haven't met him yet, and I have no idea where the hell he is, what he's doing, what he could do for me now. What I could be doing for him.

"Seems like a waste of time, not knowin' him."

Thanks for letting me spill, Sex Blog. I have to put sexytime in you, now.

....But gosh, it's been so long.

Did I mention this is my dad's computer. C-ya.

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Wednesday, October 27th, 2010
6:31 pm
I stopped talking to him on the grounds that I wanted it more than him. So what does he do, a month later? Send me a picture of his tits. It was a gag shot involving stickers as a "security measure," and I was actually irked that he would tease me that way.

I texted him back, "If you want to protect your nips you'd better not send me pics of them."

He responded later that fortunately, he wasn't trying to protect them. Now do I go to bed with a big boner, or do I respond with a demand to get his narrow ass over here...?

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Wednesday, July 7th, 2010
2:57 am
Ohhhh goodness. Sex blogging should not be a chore, but the sci-fi TV show I'm catching up on is just too juicy.

Alright. The weird thing about this meet-up, for one, is that it is continuing a sequence of double-names. Most of the people I've been with, in chronological order, have names paired up, such as Will, then William. I now have four pairs of these names.

Anywho. The next weird thing is I've known this guy for about five years, sort of round-about. I've been friends with his wife, who also has a crush on me. I adore her, but I don't think I'm into women like I used to be. He is *very* quiet and reserved, so it's taken me this long to get to know him at all. Turns out he is extremely sharp, perceptive, with a photographic memory. Neat guy. And very mellow, which I like. And he is pretty good-looking, with shining dark eyes and hollow cheeks. He gets compared to Johnny Depp. He's also built like a dog, though, all bones and solid muscle, which is not as cuddly as I'm used to... even compared to my latest infatuation, who is thin but more cat-like; receptive and delicate.

We've never shared more than a hug until a couple weekends ago. He came to pick me up for a house party. We talked about the hike we'd been planning. The poly household he's a part of is very chummy, and he is usually content in the sidelines.

Some time during the party... The long-awaited kiss could've taken longer. He blocked me on my way out of the bathroom, and leaned his tipsy chin on my forehead. His face lazily drifted against mine, with the excuse of the alcohol making him bold. So I kissed him, without further fanfare, a brief smeck on the lips which amiably turned into making out. We tried it a few more times throughout the night. I slept in his bed alone, as he was expected elsewhere, but he gave me a long goodnight and an eager good morning, which involved a lot of attention to my breasts. :)

It was pretty hot, and I don't understand my luck, but here is yet another huge cock. I only just got my hand all the way around it. Then again, I have little hands. But I'm pretty sure all the huge cocks I've been encountering aren't actually average size. 'Tis strange.

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Tuesday, May 18th, 2010
6:34 pm - Pavlov's Dinner Bell
I caught a glimpse of the cooking show, with a southern woman demonstrating a recipe for apple cake.

Mmm, apple cake. I was introduced to this concoction a year ago, while staying at my special friend's house. In fact we were doing something quite unrelated to apple cake, initially. We'd spontaneously gotten comfortable in his basement living room, and I was having the best top-fuck of my life, bouncing off his giant cock and ready to come hard all over the bean bag chair.

Then an abrasive voice hollered from the top of the stairs: "CHRIS, CHRIS, CHRIS!" Uncertain if we'd locked the door, we frantically pulled out, and he jerked up his boxers to answer the roommate's friend. "You want some apple cake?" she asked. I had run to the bedroom, giggling. The guest boomed down the stairs, wondering what was going on, and after some speculation it was occurring to her what she'd interrupted.

She'd mention it the next few times we saw her.

Anyway, what I mean to say is, that apple cake was really good, and that cooking show gave me a boner.

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Monday, April 5th, 2010
2:35 am - tales of a loving fool
(crop)

I didn't know this at the time, but apparently he made me squirt on my birthday. I had no idea I had the capacity to ejaculate. I just knew there was a wet spot on the carpet, I hadn't realized his face and chest took most of the impact, which he toweled off.

And he tells me, if I really do think so highly of him, I should respect his notion that I am worthwhile. Why is it so hard to convince myself? Perhaps I'll know once I'm strong enough...

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Friday, January 15th, 2010
4:19 pm
It's so funny. He tells me he wants to go smoke a cigarette, and keeps sitting there. I'm such a straight man, I don't want to detain him, but I do curl up around him and he lays back over me, and the silliness begins.

Nothing unusual, but we hadn't seen each other in a month and he was somehow worried I'd never speak to him again. So, he was gratified.

The thing that was unusual, I guess, or reportable about it is not the incredible, exhausting and multiple-orgasm-inducing hand-job (yes hand-job)-- he's got me pretty well figured out by now. So I'm in a place where I'm not so concerned or nervous about just getting off, and I can do what I really want to do with another person which is enjoy their sexy body, so I do. I got to spend hours just appreciating his skin. Nicest thing was he didn't have anywhere to rush off to in the morning, so there were cuddles there, too.

I don't know how long this can go on, though. I mean, I am moving. I saw him again and knew that he is still my favorite person, and he cares about me dearly at least. But if he relapses to that suicidal pile he was a month ago, with my life being in the crap-hole it's in, I won't be able to handle it.

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Sunday, October 11th, 2009
10:11 pm - elaborations on an as-yet-unexperienced issue: inequality of sexual priority between partners.
Is it just me? Is a few weeks with no action something to merely shrug off? I feel like a total guy. Alternately, like a total girl, undesirable and neglected.

I turned some friendly horseplay into a blowjob session again, and though it was pleasurable for him, he said afterward he almost wished it hadn't turned into that. According to him, I'm too focused on the sexual element, which isn't as important to him as accomplishing something with the day. But he exaggerates it, as if I would spend 8 hours of every day fucking, and it's not the case. I go down on him and go down on him, in hopes that he will take the hint and reciprocate, but by then he has to move on to something else and is just irritated that I want to take up MORE of his time in bed to get myself off.

I know what it sounds like, and it's true: he's just not that into me. At least, not romantically. I was prepared to close the evening by walking away in a huff, resolving to give in to one of the many guys I know who would be more than happy to fuck my brains out, even if not that very evening. I told him as much, and he went cold and said "do what you gotta do." I didn't want drama, but I was already so frustrated that tears were beginning to well up. He's the kind to get pissed off whenever I cry, which is how much of the drama between us ensues.

When his responses to my clarifications repeated into "Whatever"s, I told him to "Have a whatever night," took my things and walked to the bus stop. When he saw that I'd also taken the ash tray that I had made and left there for weeks, he felt he was losing another dear friend by bringing sex into the mix. He called, asking for further explanation on my feelings, and since my phone was dying I decided to walk back to talk some more.

As we laid together, he gave me a heart-tugging sad-eyed look as he expressed his concern of losing me as a friend, then hugged me tightly.

I still felt weepy, which I didn't want to have happen while at his house, but in a couple hours I managed to squeeze out a few long-awaited statements about my misgivings about the relationship. Our sexual priorities differ widely, and he still doesn't seem to understand the importance I placed on being with someone who is seriously attracted to me. I am still agitated by his annoyance at my sexual demands, which are not as great as he makes them out to be.

So, before we watched the movie (which is what he wanted to spend his free time doing in the first place), he relented to pay some attention to my nipples. By that point I was so pent up, I had my first pants-on nipple-orgasm in under a minute. Then I went on to have three more orgasms by his hand, which was just gravy. I sighed in his arms for a few minutes, which turned into brief sobs. Suddenly he was all tenderness, kissing my face and holding me tightly, asking why I was crying. I was a little embarrassed by it, and adjusted myself.

We wound up spending the whole weekend together, largely because we're both procrastinating from work. After seeing the way he is afraid to lose me, I'm a lot less confused by the way he loves me. He has always wanted to keep me around, and openly admired my work, and basically revered me as someone very awesome. Because of my romantic weakness for him, it has been very difficult for me to figure out where the line is to be drawn, what the Compromise is to be.

It's still a bit sad, still incomplete, achingly bittersweet. But even while I have a list of friends who would love to rip my clothes off, I am holding out for someone who feels right. So if my sex life is not entirely satisfactory, I feel decidedly better off than being unhappily single, or fucking someone I don't really want to be with. So, there you are.

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Sunday, August 16th, 2009
10:53 pm
I can't resist, because I haven't had my own computer running in months and this is no entry to write in public! I'll just have to resign to use my roommate's computer for this sort of thing.

Summertime means more revealing outfits and warm evenings that keep you awake and stir your heart into action, either doing something creative or physical. Those seem to be my favorite times for fooling around, I know I'm not alone.

I can't say my recent, long-awaited relationship hasn't been difficult. It seems that these 2 1/2 years of knowing him have all been waiting out one long storm, hoping for good times ahead. Finally I'm trying to manifest those good times, because I need them if I'm gonna stick around. But in addition to that, we're not necessarily committed. Even so, he's expressed to me that he doesn't want me being with other people. I haven't had much chance to bring it up again, and I'm afraid things won't end happily. I would like some commitment and priority, which I know very well he can't give to me.

But enough of that. It's been a delightful, drawn-out surprise to uncover such a sensual, virile, sexy person under that serious, business-like facade. Such are Capricorns! Last lazy Sunday morning, I was alone in my bed, becoming wet and swollen as all get-out, so I texted him to see what he was up to (and what the potential was of my bussing over to his place for our first bootie call). I wound up masturbating to a long and very satisfying orgasm, before he called. Turns out he'd been trying to get out of bed all morning, but was distracted playing with himself. It was rather hot to find I'd been in bed on my knees thinking of his cock while he was laying prostrate in his own bed a few miles away with an erection.

I finally started on my way over to his place, though he had things to do, I thought I might at least hang out. But I barely got to give his nipple a pinch before realizing--BAM right there-- my period was starting. THANKS VAGINA, GREAT TIMING.

Well, my intention was to catch up on all the titillating moments that have construed over the last several weeks, which still catch my breath to think about at inconvenient times in public places, but they'd probably lose their fire more than anything here, now. I could probably do with some lovin' by now, this has been a weird depressing weekend, too stressful for more than back rubs at the end of the day. Work tomorrow. I'll have to pounce on him another time.

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Thursday, April 16th, 2009
2:51 pm
Most secret and boring love rantCollapse )

current mood: I want to be happy.

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Sunday, April 12th, 2009
2:31 am
I'd be lying if I said the continual dragging of sexual tension wasn't rather delightful. Last night was quite victorious-- he's been couch surfing at my place for a while and it's been verbalized that the roommates like him, so the insecurity of not having a room of his own has subsided significantly. This house is more of a home to him. I'm incredibly glad.

So this was the boldest he has ever been. "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"
"No," I said encouragingly.
"I'm too tired to get my pajamas. I'll have to get in naked."
"That's fine."

And into my bed he leapt. Soon, without much prompting, he kissed me deeply and helped me remove my shirt. We were finally naked together, groping, kissing, moaning. I got the most rewarding sounds out of him by sucking his nipples, and finally got to go down on him long enough for him to relax and enjoy it.

We spent all of Saturday being lazy at home. It was our first break in a while. I think I need a bigger bed.

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Friday, April 10th, 2009
3:45 pm
The last couple of days have been a reprise of shy encounters with my best friend. It's still kind of hard to gauge just what he wants. When he gets really drunk, he makes lewd comments toward me, always making it sound like he's volunteering his sexual services to me as a favor. As far as I can tell he's attracted to me, but I'm not going to jump his bones based on his arrogant comments. But I've also been reluctant to lecture him in a pissy tone, or just spit in his eye. So what ends up happening is some lazy, incredibly shy caressing in my bed.

Some time while we were sleeping, he put his hand down my pants, which I removed so he could diddle me at leisure, though I wasn't really into it. Later he said that he was dreaming he was opening a gas valve, and awoke to find me pantsless. Okay fine, whatever! He fingered me some more until he found what was getting me turned on, and he in turn began to get turned on. But I didn't want to reciprocate very much, because I had no idea if he still felt that doing sexual things was "harmful." I'm so damned shy that I can't talk about it. But I will, next time.

He seems to think I'm too passive, but it's explainable by the way he's approached things with me so far-- never letting on that he actually *wants* to be with me. It's bullshit. I'm alright with not having sex with him, if that were the better choice, though I do still adore his long little body.

Around the same time he warmed up to being physical with me, he trimmed his facial hair-- and manscaped. I'm not sure I approve of this phenomenon of men trimming their pubic hair, but it actually looked fairly nice. And it did seem to be partially for my benefit, so I didn't want to seem unappreciative.

I will say, he's very good at holding me and keeping me warm. He held on to me as if for dear life through most of the night.

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Thursday, November 20th, 2008
6:14 pm - the tangled web.
Estrous strikes again. Isn't that a sexy word? I didn't think so, either. My last Human Sexuality paper was on women going into heat. Anyway, it definitely happens...

I hadn't seen this guy in a month. Let's call him C. Not including one brief interlude with N, where my heart really lies, I hadn't been to see Mr. Nice Guy (C) since Halloween. It took a moment to get used to, but as encounters go, it was absolutely perfect.

I was aching for affection, and he gave it to me in spades. First we cuddled in front of the TV until I finally managed to maneuver him to the bedroom. Two roommates were still watching TV so I didn't want to be too conspicuous, but I was starting to not care anymore. I stripped down and he pushed me against the wall and did amazing things to my breasts. (He said later he would remember that incident for a long time.) Then he went down on me (which he's VERY good at) until I wanted to overpower him and rape him. He teased me a little while with his cock before fetching a condom and slowly pushing it in. I couldn't get enough of him, though trying to whisper, begging him loudly to fuck me as fast as he could, and he obliged eagerly while making those sexy noises he makes. It's usually difficult to make him come, but he said he had a hard time not blowing his wad when I was on top of him. Since that's when I came, I should've told him to do it then.

He said he forgot how fantastic I was at giving head. I always find that kind of flattering, especially since he's very large.

Then he told me he was in love with me. I was strangely not taken aback. He has been acting like he's been thinking about me, but I figured it was a poly-courtesy kind of thing. "I'm thinking of you... and I'm thinking of you, and you too." I was a little concerned about not giving him enough time. Anyway, it felt good to have someone say that. He's in love with at least one other person, so since his feelings are distributed elsewhere I'm not too worried about his feeling hurt. I would go ballroom dancing with him.

N is probably gonna move his stuff out of my house over the next couple of days. I've loved having him. Unfortunately his self-hatred has been causing him to resent me, somehow. I don't take it personally, but it still hurts a bit. I'm still rather in love with him, but realistic about it. I know I don't need him. But he is an incredible, beautiful person. And I can't make him happy.

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Sunday, November 9th, 2008
12:00 pm
The imminent sexual encounter was odd, but fun.

It consisted mostly of his going down on me, roughly, and saying over and over again that he just wanted me to be happy. That just doesn't bode well. I told him earlier not to do me any favors, that the important thing to me was to be open. He was adamant and rough with the way he handled my pussy. I practically had to fight him off when I felt worn out. It took several hours but I finally became accustomed to his style, and began getting very wet by morning. Unfortunately people were awake and I couldn't stop making noise, and I couldn't relax enough to let go completely.

And yet for all his persistence at trying to pleasure me, it took some coercion just to get him to take his own clothes off. I wanted to see *him.* My favorite thing was just to be naked with him and make contact. We fondled and played in the dark light of the television, he followed me to the kitchen and kept me from my cup of tea. I got so weak in the knees that we collapsed 69ing on the kitchen floor.

I have to keep reminding him over and over to be gentle and not to bite. Just a brush makes me stiff and wet. Guys keep wanting to chew and pull on my nipple like it was a wad of gum. Oy.

On the other hand, It was *him* between my legs, The Guy, the one I've been trying so hard not to fantasize about for a year and a half. I get to live out the fantasy of taking care of a weary man that I love, be a strong mother hen George Sand to his fragile baby chick Chopin. It's great for me, and in several ways I have been good for him, but what happens now that we've been intimate I wonder. He still worries that our friendship will be negatively affected by it. It took this long to get naked because he absolutely does not want to hurt me. And I just want intimacy with someone I care about. We could've just cuddled and I would be so happy. But, I'm happy anyway, so nothing's wrong.

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Thursday, October 2nd, 2008
4:27 pm - Writing from a public computer, whoo!
Last night was *fucking amazing.*

This guy knows his stuff, alright. He says he's pretty by the book, and it appears he can only come in missionary, and that's *if* he does. Especially with a condom, he can go on forever. So, I felt kinda bad the last time we were together and he decided to stop and just go to sleep. I know it's silly, because I only stare blankly when guys say they feel they haven't done their job if I didn't come.

Anyway, he wants to "experiment" and try things beyond yer meat and potatoes missionary. This is a bit hard for me, because I'm still kind of at a point where I just like to come whenever I can, so I'm rather "guyish" and goal-oriented. I want to get myself off!

But also, I'm lazy. And you know what, sex is soooo good on weed. I'm relaxed and sensual and more inclined to simply enjoy myself.

Okay, he joins me in bed and plays with my breasts for ages (yay!). Then he wants to go down on me for hours, or at least it seemed like it. Sweet! This time he asked me to stay as still as I could, so he could work with some intent rather than random lapping of my nether regions - and chasing after my clit while I squirmed, which I do. I didn't care, if felt *great.* Especially with hands fondling my breasts, it's the most delicious torture.

I do feel like I've been falling short of my oral duties. This is the most it's bothered me, because for the first time I owe the guy several orgasms. So I really wanted to please him, even though his cock is rather large and I still have hangups that cause me to gag. He's instructed me to focus on the last inch or two rather than the whole shaft, but I still can't get him off that way.

He soon got up to fetch a (XL) condom, and had me get on top, which I gladly did. It was like one long orgasm that just went on and on until I was exhausted. After that I just let him get on top and it was an extra bonus that he actually came, with a condom on and everything.

It's strange. I guess I was never entirely attracted to Jon. I'm really glad to have a partner who I think is rather hot. He's still not exactly my type, but he is cute. And very nice, I enjoy his company. Okay, that's all fer now.

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