Monday, December 31, 2007

HAPPY NEW YEAR




Happy 2008!!
Things to come
My resolutions
The weirdest night of my life so far
and much more!!
Thanks to everyone who reads, and I hope you continue to in the future. Blogging has been a very relaxing and cathartic experience.

xoxo
M. Leah

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Wonder Leah/Train Rides with Mom

Thursday evening I went to “In the Flesh” the monthly reading series @ Happy Endings lounge to meet and hear fellow blogger Marcelle Manhattan share some of her naughty stories. She did a great job and it was wonderful to finally meet the woman behind it all. Thank you to all the writers and readers who had the courage to stand in front of a room full of people and talk about the intimate goings on of your sex life including a romp with Santa, the exact shaving style of one’s “bits”, an erotic haiku, a walk down memory lane to an S&M restaurant with Topaz and her mystery man and much more. I had a great time and I am grateful that you guys have the stones to get up there and share. It truly does help timid old me break through some of my insecurities to see women talk so candidly about being turned on. It definitely got my writing gears turning, expect more from me in 2008! Talking with Marcelle it really got me thinking…she mentioned how she never felt like she belonged growing up in the south. I think if we all step out of our kinky closets no woman (or outsider for that matter) would have to feel uncomfortable for ascribing to a different set of social norms. I was going to post about where are all my positive dominant female women role models? But I need to be that person for myself, for all the little M. Leah’s out there who are still in college trying to figure out this stuff. If I can help one girl avoid an awkward hookup, complete with blowjob and no satisfaction then perhaps I have made a difference ☺. But seriously, I don’t know why we teach women to be afraid of their sexual desires and package them in tight little boxes that are to be exchanged for either gifts or feelings. I am not saying you shouldn’t be a considerate lover, but things do not end with male ejaculation. I do not know who spread this belief, but women need to reclaim their sexual practices for their own benefit and remove this awful idea of gift exchange from their orgasm and critically examine the way we interact when the lights go down and the clothes come off. I think this is the new barrier. The uncontested sexual mores of hook-up culture and the social environment we are bringing our girls into.
** Excuse me while I get off my soapbox**
The best part of the night however was not the reading or exposing my mother to erotic literature; it was the train ride home on the long island railroad. Oh did I forget to say that m mom came with me? Silly me. My mom came with me to an erotic reading. She grew up in a different time in a different culture, but she has a little bit of the voyeur bug in her. I do too, but I also stick my toe in from time to time (ok, sometimes I just go skinny dipping, but you get the metaphor, I don’t need to kill it). We got little bottles of wine and boarded our train home. We talked about the readers, we talked about men, and we talked about sex. She still is trying to come to terms with the fact that heterosexual people would want to do anal. Bless her little heart. Imagine having this conversation with your mom, it was hilarious. I was trying to educate her and shock her at the same time. She’s such a tightly wound person that I was hoping that this entire experience would help her loosen up a little. And of course under the influence of my train station libations I probably said a little too much. I explained the joys of prostate massages to my mother. I had my mom blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl. Yes, I basically told my mom to stick a finger in my dad’s ass. What type of daughter am I? Maybe she’ll be a little happier and perhaps being more adventurous in the bedroom will make her more adventurous in the world. I wonder if she’ll try it, wait…I don’t want to know. There are some things that are still sacred.
Merry Christmas!!!

Facelift


I updated the "look" of my blog again. I was feeling a little down and thought the black was depressing. I wanted something more subtle for all those people who stumble by. Let them get shocked, it will give me a giggle and brighten my day.
Kisses and Happy Birthday to little 8 lb 6 ounce baby Jesus, just a little infant, so cuddly, but still omnipotent.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

One handed read

Being home for the holidays, I have no MJ outlet and my adorable boy is out in the Bahamas for Christmas through New Years so I have no one to share my naughty fantasies with. All my fantasies involve the Boy; you can insert the man of your choice…
I have this fantasy of him leaning over a really tall table, perhaps a bar, Kitchen Island, something taller than a dining room table. He’s naked standing far enough away that when he bends over the table only the top half of his torso touches and his feet are raised slightly so he’s kind of balancing on his toes, with his stomach and cock off the table. He has his legs spread and he’s face down. I make him hold himself slightly too far up so that his arms are taught and he has to work to keep himself stable in this position. I slowly rub his ass and admire him leaning over telling him how nice he looks, “does the position hurt?” He won’t say no, he will say yes, that he likes it. I’ll rub my hands up and down his back, his ass his thighs and he will start to get hard in anticipation, “oh really, you like that, you like being bent over for me, you enjoy letting me look at you like this?”
He will of course say yes, and then I’ll slap him and call him dirty. Watch his cock bounce, tell him I saw it, rub him a little than hit him again. Asking again if he likes this, being hit by me, being bent over. He will say yes again, I will make him look at me while I touch him. He will watch as I take him in squirming a little, beginning to feel uncomfortable with his exposure and the position. I will tell him to be still and then grab the crop. I will then ask him if he wants this, wants me to hit him, wants me to watch him squirm on my kitchen table. I will tell him he must count after each one, and he does, and I'm turned on by this point. I tell him how wet, how I like hitting him, like him. I hit his back, his thighs and ass. Continually asking if he wants this “Do you like turning me on? Do you enjoy me hitting you, exposing you?” I then tell him to grab the counter tighter, spread your legs more and I give him 5 quick whacks. I then move on to a paddle and hit him hard. I reach down bend over him with my hips to his ass, reach around, and tell him how I want him to fuck me, how I want him to make me come, I want him to give me an orgasm I want to come, and when I say that I slap his ass one more time then tug on his balls, I let him scooch down off the counter he pushes down the fabric on my nightie exposing one of my breasts and runs his hands gently down my skin, lightly touching me with his calloused gorgeous hands, his fingers long, delicate yet manly. He traces my nipple and I shudder, he places his mouth on it and kisses it, I don’t like my nipples sucked, you are not a child, you are not drawing milk, you are trying to turn me on. I like my nipples caressed, kissed, bitten, teased. He moves one hand lower, picks up my nightie rubs my thigh. I sit on the counter with one breast exposed, his hand on my inner thigh. I reach down and kiss him, he goes back to my nipple and I look over his back at the red marks I've caused, and as I'm looking at his back, he sticks one finger inside of me. Finding my clit with his thumb I close my eyes and lean back. Letting him do what he does, using both hands, one to hold me in place by the small of my back, every now and then needing me with his fingers. His other hand working my pussy as I watch his mouth kiss my nipples, I'm about to come and he holds me tighter not stopping, feeling my body twitch both inside and out. He then finally slows what he’s doing and kisses me on my neck then working up. He then says thank you and I kiss him.

The feminine industrial complex.


Who controls images of feminine? As I sit and primp and tweeze and pluck, I wonder, what power elite am I bowing down to? Yes, all these habits and feminine rituals started because of a patriarchal society and its views on women. But come on, women had to go along to make them work. Some woman had to decide that wearing heels was really “de rigueur”. How do female trends spread without female participation?
I was cleaning out my drawers, giving myself something to do when MJ was staying way past his time. I like my weekends, I enjoy my “me time”. There are times you just want to enjoy the quiet, and he never understands that. So here I was, wishing he would leave so I could organize my drawers,
I don’t like having idle hands and I get satisfaction by regimented lines of jewelry separated into type, size and of course quality. I love to empty a drawer enjoying the memories of the things I’m puling out from it. I think it goes back to when I was a child and I would get to hear the stories of all the things my mother could take out of her drawers. They had some enchanted quality to them of femaleness to come. Things that I desperately wanted to understand. Backs of earrings with no mates, a ticket stub from a movie I was too young to go to. Her bronze hand mirror with the upholstered back that I desperately wished had a genie in it. Even an old battery or an empty film case seemed so adult, they were totems of a world I didn’t yet have access to. Pink satin underwear, high heels, perfume samples, small scented soaps and discarded makeup all seemed to hold stories, and a glimpse into the secret society that I would one day be a part of. I loved those days and I love to organize my drawers. Maybe this is also why I like to snoop in people’s medicine cabinets, who knows.
But back to the story, I’m trying to enjoy going through one of my drawers. Pulling out ribbons and ticket stubs, sunglass cases and various other discarded items, MJ asking me what everything was trying to make conversation. Then I pulled out something that looked like the top to a man’s electric razor. I had a little epilator phase.
My friend Long Island had one when we were in college. She liked cable knit sweaters, preppy patterns and going on mother daughter vacations with her stylish and well-educated mom. They vacations in St Bart’s, I was overwhelmed she seemed knowledgeable and worldly. She mentioned how she had one and that it worked like a dream! Didn’t hurt at all and the bikini line looked great! I was taken in. For those who don’t know, this crazy torture device literally PULLS OUT each individual hair, ONE BY ONE. I think gitmo doesn’t even use devices like this, water boarding yes, epilators no. All it did for my bikini line was give me awful little red bums, I would bleed through underwear and it was so bad that bumpy that no one would want to touch me even if I had the courage to show them my business. But of course I let this go on for months, claiming that, oh yes, it worked SO much better.
So he asked what the epilator was.
I explained, his response was:
“You know you don’t need to do those sort of things for me.”
And I had two reactions that I would like to share.
1- What? You think I do this FOR YOU?!? Are you kidding me, don’t shine yourself sweetheart. See below reason why I was so miffed.
2- I do this to make other women jealous, fuck what you think. Women preen for each other. I like to look good because it makes me feel good, looking so dam good. There’s a fast food commercial where the plain girl is envied by the model looking girl because she has some sort of sandwich. Well that feeling feels good, and that’s why women spend hours on their makeup and fortunes on their clothes. Whatever that item or product is, feeling special and envied every now and gain feels good. This could be a simple accomplishment that just makes you happy. I like it, sue me. And its not because guys say that women should have shaved pussies, its because other women do it! Women like each other, sisterhood and all that. You change your style because you see something or some other female who inspired you. I love pin-up culture, so recently I have been doing the red lips more. You do what fits you, but you get your ideas from other women.
I like admiring a woman who can pull something off, I think its cool. You can wear a gold backless dress and look stellar doing it, I will ooh and aah and wish I could pull it off. My boobs are too big and I HATE being braless (the only time you will catch me braless is in the shower or I guess with a man). I epilate because I want to look just as good in that bikini as you do, and if that means ripping out my vag hairs, hell I will at least try it. Don’t get me wrong; I would never be one of those ladies who traipse around in anything just because it’s in fashion. I still like things to flatter me; I’ll find the one that works well on me. I hate those bikini bottoms that show too much ass, and I will never be caught in a string bikini because where will my boobs go?
But the gist is, I’m doing because of the watchful eyes and policing agents that are other women and their opinions. Now I'm not saying this is better heaven forbid, no but its not the men I care about. It’s the women and their thoughts and comments. The feminine Gestapo is not men, and please, stops kidding yourself, its other women. We are each other’s worse critic and best allies. I will be the woman who in my old age wears wigs to cover my thinning hair, gets weekly manicures, and dons every bangle on one wrist so they clink and clang. I will do this not for men, by this time you will have died (we do live longer) my body will be wrinkled and old. I will have arthritis and liver spots, but I will still look stylish. I would rather be a member of the feminine police force than be a victim of it.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

How am i ever to land a man?

I'm in florida right now visiting my grandma. Surrounded by the land of the early bird special, the strip mall and chain restaurant I realized something about myself and about my family. We have different ideas of my future, and more importantly my future spouse. My grandma might claim she's hip [her way of excusing her sometimes distasteful comments] and modern [allowing her to use disparaging language] but deep down her 40s upbringing shows through.
My Grandmother prepared for my arrival like any grandma would, she started cooking 5 days before my brother and I arrived, but it was FRESH!
My grandma is what you would call "opinionated", always one to speak her mind even when its not wanted, appreciated or correct. She will tell you stories of "Bush; that crook", my uncle that "lunatic shit head", my father "the putz" etc. She loves my family, but she also loves to talk about everyone and tell you about it. I'm one of her favorite topics. Her only female grandchild, I am both her shining joy and her absolute shame. I am single, in my mid twenties [way too close to thirty for her book] and getting advanced degrees. One brings her extreme joy, the other extreme worry. She has no idea what I do or what I study [something in between social work and psychology in her mind] and every conversation we have always ends [because i hang up at this point] with her asking me if I've met someone.
She wants me to be Barbie, well educated, able to fly a plane, but settling for stewardess so I can get married and give her grandchildren. Granddaughter Barbie does not have short hair, and when she does, she is called a Dyke. So right now I have short hair. Its all bang, and i like it, but i have no interest to hear about why i cant land a man because of my hair.
so to fuck with her [what else would I do, I'm incorrigible] and also play into her issues i wore a wig down to see her. I love to play dress up. Its one of my fetishes. i own 4 wigs, many costumes, too much lingerie [that goes unused mind you] and enough make up to fill two drawers. and do not even try to count my accessories or my shoes. i have a problem, and that problem is that i dont have a "style" i have avatars. i can be goth, grunge, virginal, slutty, cheescake, modern, mod, hippie, etc you name it, i have something in my closet that will work with it.
so as we're driving from the airport back to her "villa" in her 50+ development she keeps on singing the praises of my beautiful long hair, how great the dye job is, how i should never change it and how the men must love it [always back to the men] she goes on and on about how gorgeous it is, and of course i keep it up for a little bit while my little brother is laughing in the backseat [also trying not to yak since my grandma every 5 min or so would just jerk the wheel hard to the right for no reason at all, "the car was driving to the left" she states] so finally i cant hold it in any longer, i pick the bangs up and show her the seam, where the wig hits my scalp. She cant believe it, etc etc. She lectures me on how wigs ruin your natural hair, how i should grow it like that length anyway and still talks about how fantastic it looks. i then tell her i have more than one wig, i have 4 and one of them happens to be pink.
"pink?!?" how will you ever land a man with pink hair? what type of man would like a woman who has pink hair?!?!
Ok, now I'm stumped. This is something I never thought would be a negative to any man i was courting. When did pink hair and wig wearing equal such match.com binaries like, "smoker", "divorced", political leanings and religious views? I dont want a man who cant handle me in pink hair and i never thought that would be an issue, i guess that shows the difference in the generations, or something deep and meaningful like that. I dress to make myself happy, and of course to appease the policing agent that is other women and their unhealthy ideals. In her generation it was about finding a husband so you can move out of your father's house and start having babies. I am not a cow nor do I need a dowry. And I am going to wear my wig until I'm a blue haired lady and live in my own 50+ community, and I'm sure I will be the most popular among the old men ;)

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Collaring

15”.

TB sent me his neck measurements. 15” a finite number an actual and precise amount. 15” of leather that I am going to create in my image and lace around his neck. 15” of leather that will define our relationship. 15” has never turned me on more than it did today.
It got me thinking what exactly do I want to see in a collar that I put on him. How does my image of The Boy in a collar look, and why is this and can I get this made?

I’m not that into the accoutrements of the goth/bdsm subculture that relies on tons of black and vinyl and studs etc. I want something that has more evocative power something that says dominance and ownership in a way that I find alluring and sexy. This is a collar for my sexual stimulation, I want it to reflect that. My collar is something that will wear with time; I want something that wears gracefully with use, like your favorite belt. I want something that smells like a tannery and evokes images of hard working tanned farmhands not dungeons and the possible smell of mold. Something that represents what wearing a collar means to me. I want this collar to represent my romantic cultural imaginary, not the one that has been deemed appropriate by Goth teens and a subculture that I am still intimidated by and not really ready to belong to. Not to say that’s wrong, that’s just not how I roll. I don’t want him in studs and skulls all fluffed out like a rapper’s pit-bull. I want this collar to represent a sense of ownership that also doesn’t reference teen angst, punk music and its creation: Avril Lavigne.
My ideas of collars involve ownership; I give my dog a collar so he is visibly marked as mine. He has tags that say my name and phone number {he is also the cutest thing on 4 legs, just a little side note}. It’s a way to prove he’s mine if lost. The collar is a form of marking where I’ve been and what I own. A black leather mass-produced collar just doesn’t do it for me. My fantasies of ownership lean to images of branded cows and masculine cowboys. My mind doesn’t go to Goths and dungeons, European fetishes or Victorian era prudery. My mind goes to sun kissed farm hands that smell like sweat and leather. Warm naked bodies slightly red from back breaking physical labor and too much exposure to heat and sun. I think Marlboro man and Wyoming ranches; I want to tame the wild, not chain the undisciplined schoolboy. I want him to be able to smell the leather and know that its there, feel the weight and understand the consequences. My collar is my brand.
The collar I plan on placing on the boy is personal. It gets worn with use and time becoming darker and more nuanced with the oils of his skin and continued use. It becomes darker suede, slick where it used to be soft. It’s a dark oxblood or light tan suede against a black background. It wears with age and becomes more dignified like the strap of my Louis Vuitton bag. It has presence in itself and represents an entire different set of cultural meanings; my collar sits proudly on his neck like a fine coach bag aging gracefully with time. My collar is an aesthetic investment, not the means to a dominant end. My collar is metal and leather and permanent, it’s also branded. Branded like the hide of a cow, branded with my claim on this boy, branded with the word “MINE”. When I run my hand over the recessed lettering feeling along like Braille this brand will mark what I control. This aggressive masculine man smelling like tanned leather and warmth will put this on for me and let me look and admire gaze at what’s mine. Fuck the masculine gaze, this gaze is 100% made in a woman’s image.
When I clasp that buckle tightly over those 15” and it jingles softly he is reminded that he is branded and belongs to me. He is my masculine submissive, my wild bull branded with the words MINE (and perhaps initials, I haven’t decided that yet, maybe on the inside?).
I’ve been looking into creating this collar and have come to the conclusion that I will need to combine the aesthetics of a dog collar with the durability and size of a traditional human collar. I am working on how to get this done now…

Monday, December 3, 2007

I just want to see you smile




I’ve been purposefully silent recently on the goings on with “the boy” and me. I didn’t want to jinx anything, also I don’t know if there is anything to jinx. Like always its 3 steps fwd 27,000 steps back. I haven’t spoken to him in over a week, actually one week two days. I waffle between this is good for me to love him to I’m wasting my time and putting myself through heartache. But for some reason we work, although he has the ability to make me hurt (emotionally not physically). I get all needy and self-conscious when I don't hear from him regularly, and he never seems to have his shit together, oh and lives two time zones away. Well besides all those things.
But through him, I am figuring out a lot of things, especially what I am looking for in a long-term relationship. There was a line in “Las Vegas” from last week that really struck me, I know I can’t believe I’m quoting a TV show that stars Tom Selleck, but cut me some slack. This woman was talking about finding your mate. You just have to find the person whose greatest happiness is watching you be happy [so simple, but so difficult to find]. But this comes from a specific place, not in a "I want to defer all ideas, thoughts and feelings to you so you can control the outcome, its more like let’s meet in the middle and appreciate what we bring to the table, no matter how bizarre".
I am happy when you put up with my eccentricities and are interested in them, not necessarily because they are yours, but because it makes you happy that I am happy. I love animals, I love them like the abominable snowman in those Looney tunes cartoons. I must love them, and hold them and name them all George. I smother all things fluffy. It’s a warped childhood fantasy I’ve always had. You remember when [insert Disney princess here] sings her trademark song in some sort of [forest, ocean, jungle, etc] and [insert cute doe eyed animals] come up to her and accompany her? That has always been my dream. Yet since this is the real world and not an animated fairy tale, wild animals do not so readily come to me, so I have to hunt them down or purchase them from pet stores. Which I did recently, I caught a baby mole. Mind you, I was with my dog and he had zero predatory instinct and actually was looking at me like I was insane. But I called “the boy” at work, and even though he was busy, he let me yammer on about this little mole [that actually looked like cartoon moles!!!]
The mole, plus the conversation made my day. I hope he knows how much that meant to me.

Oh yea, and we also had some steamy late night phone sex, that was great too ;)

Saturday, December 1, 2007

Made in her image

I just purchased “The Secret” on DVD for my mother for the holidays. I wonder; how am I related to this woman? She asked for it, so I obliged, mind you she already has the book, the audio book and now the DVD [over consumption at its best] don’t get me wrong, I love my mother. I am fiercely loyal to her and protective over her, but I seriously wonder how she spawned a child like me and if she regrets some of the decisions I have made and secretly wishes that I was different, a child she could claim, a child built in her image.
She’s had a hard life and she deserves happiness that is true. But she’s not going to find it in “the secret”. Of course I made the mistake of using this request to push her. On 1- why she couldn’t go on Amazon herself and buy it and 2- why does she need ANOTHER copy of this piece of shit? [I’m not going to even go into what the secret claims, because then I might just make my head explode with unfounded self-help nonsense] Whenever we talk about things, I always try to push her to do something, to be able to do things for herself. No she doesn’t need my father to go on the internet, yes the first few times will be challenging, but after awhile she should be able to handle it and do it faster, and won’t she feel more accomplished and satisfied if she can do it herself?
I love her, I do, but it’s hard sometimes. She wants more from her life but she is so desperately afraid of trying anything new that forces her to push herself that I always seem to get into this same fight with her.
I am independent and an aggressive go-getter. I purposefully put myself in uncomfortable situations to see if I can get out of them and learn from them. She does not; she’s slightly agoraphobic and looks towards cosmetic surgery, social acceptance, and mainstream commercialization for validation. While I do too at some points in my life, it always bothers me and while I acquiesce, I do it begrudgingly.
Example: I was born with a genetic disorder; I am missing some growth plates. One of my toes never grew, so all through adolescence I had this stumpy 4th toe that sat on the top of my foot. I was brutally protective about it while at the same time ashamed of it. It made me who I was and I didn’t want it changed. Whenever I went to the doctor my mother would always prod them about the possibility of corrective surgery and if it would have long term affects on my posture, or my development. It never would. It was just a little stumpy toe. Because of her pressure I had cosmetic surgery to fix it that required me to put two metal screws in my bones, break the bone in the middle and every day turn the device a quarter of a turn to grow the bone in the middle. The result, I can wear gorgeous heels and sandals and have no visible deformity. However, whenever people ask, I say that it was not a cosmetic procedure and that it was affecting my walk, my gait and my back alignment. This bothers me to no end. Why couldn’t she be happy with my love/hate relationship with my little toe? I know she just wanted the best, but her insistence on lies and persistence on the surgery will always bother me.
In her mind, I would have gone to college in state, gone to law school right after [a perfectly legitimate career choice] close to home of course, maybe even where my father went, and then moved a few towns over found some sort of husband and popped out 2 grandkids by now all with some low-level law career that allowed me to stay home during my kid’s first 5 years. [She has mentioned this to me, how she wants me to be able to stay home from birth to kindergarten, um, how is that possible if I am supposed to be a career woman?] Perhaps me and Mr. Suburban would have gone to Europe for our honeymoon [our first time of course] been satisfied with that level of travel, moved into a split level ranch and lived happily ever after in our cul-de-sac with our S.U.V. parked in the garage and our 401(k) collecting interest.
Unfortunately that is not the daughter she created. I travel to places that require you to get vaccinations for things I have only heard of on the Oregon Trail. I prefer spreading my love around and traveling all over this great continent to get quality ass which she never understands either and always yells at me to “keep my butt home already”. She wishes I dropped out of grad school for a more “legitimate” job that she can understand and brag about. But I am not that child. I prefer to walk the line of socially acceptable and weirdo. I’m gregarious to her social ineptitude and she never gets my sarcastic sense of humor and always thinks I am making fun of her or putting her down. I try, I really do to try to curb myself around her but it’s hard. I don’t understand her insistence of pleasing everyone. She’s leery of all people and trusts no one, yet always puts herself out there for people in this incredibly vulnerable ways that’s slightly socially awkward so of course it doesn’t go her way. Its just a weird position, to love your mother, worry about her, be sympathetic about her shortcomings, and try to help when she obviously doesn’t want to hear it from you.
She’s not going to find it in the secret though; she’s going to have to find it in herself. I know she wants more, but she needs to figure that it’s not going to come from anybody else except herself and start changing. My father and I are incredibly supportive of her, but she just looks at us with distrust. I don’t know how to handle this, sometimes its just a hard lesson and a hard smack in the face when you realize your parents have faults too and that there’s nothing you can do, or that they don’t want your two cents.
And yes, I did buy her the secret…and a part of me hopes it does work.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Trying to get MJ to talk dirty and stop talking so sweet:

IM conversation:
Edited for brevity
MJ: I fantasize of going down on you
Me: I like that
MJ: I like that too?
Me: I do like some good dirty talk, it helps get me in the mood
MJ: I daydream about making you quiver; I think I’ve had thoughts of having sex with you in various spots of your house
kitchen counter
bathroom sink
shower
you leaned over the back of the couch
Me: lets try it!
MJ: I want to do you from behind so I can reach around and fondle you
Me: say it, touch my clit
get comfortable being dirty
Mj: touch your clit?
Me: well not like that

I guess it’s a start and we have to start somewhere. I think the more he feels comfortable the less I will bitch that he’s not meeting my needs. But as this convo says there is a long way to go. Saying things like quiver just sounds too much like loins and brings back awful memories of shitty romance novels. Not that all sex has to be dirty, but I like intensity not a soft focus lens with a soprano saxaphone in the background. But it gets better once he opens up a little…


MJ: I like sucking on your clit
Me: so much better, I want more of this, now go to bed and think of me when you masturbate
Mj: I wanna watch you play with yourself, that shit is fuckin hot. I can feel you rubbing your clit when we fuck
Me: really? where?
Mj: i have to look down, base of my dick, makes me googly eyed
Me: i didnt know that thats hot, let me know these things while were doing it
and by “it” I mean bone
and by bone I mean fuck

So it gets better so I think whatever “rut” we were in I could say is over. I still don’t know if I am 100% into him or into it, but this is a step in the right direction. I like that he took control, I deleted some lines because I didn’t think them important or good imagery, but at least he’s trying and this conversation did get me excited. I think that sex is sometimes [most of the time] psychological for me. I go for guys that are hard to get because then it’s a bigger conquest when I get them. The ante always needs to be raised, whether that’s emotional, physical, or some sort of sexual deviancy. Just getting him to talk more candidly and use less cheesy sexual euphemisms I think helps.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Happy Giving!

I'm thankful for Lolcat's. If they didn't exist I wouldn't get my daily pick me up, and everyone needs one of those.
My blog, it haz a flavr:
U HAS A SMELL
moar funny pictures

I am thankful that kink and sexy now work well together, even though I can't afford anything from Agent Provocateur, I still think its all pretty sexy (well not all, some of it is absolutely ugly) But it's also all geared towards submissive females (check out their accesories, but some have potential)
But I covet this corset:
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MY PUPPY!!!! (we'll he's a grown man these days, but he brings me joy and delight even when he acts like suc a bad boy. But even when he does, just watching the gears turn in his little head brings joy that I forget about the early morning walks, or the fact that my social life is curtailed sometimes because having those adorable dead teddy eyes look up at me for guidance and support is just too cute.

I'm thankful for my family, my friends and all my new blog friends; you guys rock and I am definitely the most happy (albiet probably the most confused/f-ed up) that I have been in awhile, but I'm enjoying life and my place in it.

Totally unrelated:
I'm sure there will be some boring as fuck Peanuts Holiday movie on network tv tomorrow when I want to digest and lounge. Does anyone else find those super boring? Even as a child I never got the appeal of Peanuts, if anyone did/does, please let me know. I thought they were poorly drawn and had pacing problems/were too goddam boring. Although I did like the one where Snoopy gets all upset because of all the "No Dogs Allowed" Signs. But thats because I love all dog humor.
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Happy Thanksgving!

Monday, November 19, 2007

Making love, when all you really want is a good fuck.

So that’s the predicament I’m in right now. All I want is a nice hard fuck but all I get is some sweet soft kisses and some dumb baby talk. I am having two slight problems with MJ these days. 1- he isn’t assertive enough when it comes to naked fun time, and that leads to 2- I am not turned on or excited because it seems formulaic and routine already. If I don’t initiate sex, he won’t. Or for some reason he thinks bedtime spooning is a good indicator of his desire and therefore I then need to make a move. So of course this leads to a conversation where I tell him that if he wants it, go for it. He then says that he thought I was tired (or something, I don’t remember the excuse) and that he didn’t want to push it but that he wanted to. I said, then go for it! Tell me what you want, and do it. I tell him he needs to become more assertive with his needs/wants.
What does this lead to; not what I wanted. It leads to him, yes, being more assertive, but it still was butterfly kisses going from my ankle to my crotch, yet again, did not really do it for me.
I think maybe he just isn’t comfortable doing this? But he has before and it worked, I was super excited and wanted to jump his bones. Now I just want to feign sleep and just quickly get a condom on him so I can get him off and get this over with. There was one time, at my urging, he told me all the places and positions he wanted to have sex with me. It was fun, it was dirty, and it was wonderful. But I have never heard him use the word pussy, fuck, dick or suck since then. All I get now is “oral pleasures” “smooches” and “snuggles”.
I don’t know how to tell him what’s wrong though. Either he doesn’t think something is wrong, or he does and he’s over compensating by being even more saccharine and sugary. Either way this has to stop before I totally lose all interest in him as a sexual being. But I find it hard to bring this subject up because it’s hard to articulate what I want, and it also seems a little negative and cruel. Because if this is just his personality, how do you tell someone you don’t like who they are? I just think maybe we’re not a good fit. I want him to be more assertive in the bedroom, not necessarily take control, but understand that when push comes to shove, if I want an orgasm, I need to be fucked. There is nothing nice or soft or sweet about it, its intense, its emotional and its great; but its not a euphemism for cartoon bunnies or dessert or some shit like that. This is not a fairy tale, this is fucking.
I don’t know how to tell him that saying something like “I want to give you oral pleasures” just doesn’t sound as good as something simpler like “I want to taste you” or just a simple let me grab you until my face is in your crotch. (I prefer the latter) I know its wrong, but I want my men masculine, even when they beg, I want them to use dirty words, because dirty words sound so much better. Like the title of this post, I am sick of long gentle kisses and soft murmurs, you are bigger than me do something crazy, throw me around, say you want to fuck me. Stop asking for kisses or making baby talk. This is not an after school special; this is a cinemax after hours red shoe diaries episode. FUCK ME!

Friday, November 16, 2007

A step sideways

So, I just spoke to The Boy. Grar, it was great and awful and exciting, and turned me on and made me think delicious awful thoughts about hitting him and holding him and yet again it made me ache in a way that honestly, only he can conjure (is that what love feels like? I hate being one of those people who is like “but I Love him”).
But it brings up many issues that I have with relationships, men and dating (big surprise, I know ☺ )
The conversation was different, I felt like I had the upper hand. I finally felt like I had a modicum of control over the direction of our relationship. I worry though, do I feel like this because I am better at being dominant, or is it because I have a fallback?
I don’t want to even talk about MJ like that, but it’s sort of true. He tries really hard, and maybe with time he can be that person for me, but right now the major things going for him is that he’s here and he’s willing to put up with my waffling nature. But he is also way too nice and considerate to even think about him as just a warm body to keep me company for a while. Even having these thoughts bothers me and makes me feel like an awful person for being so emotionally flippant about someone who obviously cares deeply about me. Which then of course makes me feel worse, it’s a continual “well, I’m living my life” “I’m living my life like a dick” back-and-forth.
I feel like I'm doing myself a sort of disservice by not fully committing to MJ, but I honestly don’t think I can. But I also don’t want to use him, I mean he knows that we’re not exclusive I told him I run from relationships (sprint is more like it), but ultimately I think he wants something I cant provide. I mean, I am still turned on by him, but in a different way than the Boy.
I think it also has to do with the dynamic of the relationship I have with MJ and the relationship I have with TB (the boy for short). With TB it’s always slightly difficult, which makes it more fun. I want to dominate him because he’s hard to tie down. It’s like rescuing a feral cat and trying to tame them. It’s exciting in the same way. MJ, it seems too easy right now, he needs so much lifting up sometimes that putting him down just doesn’t seem like so much fun. I feel like hitting him and humiliating him would be like hurting a wounded puppy, he brings out different instincts in me, instincts to protect and to safeguard, not to breakdown so I can then bring him up in my image. MJ is willing to try, and that alone scares me because I do not know if I want to take that sort of submission. I like the cat and mouse, I like the game and I feel like he would automatically let me win. (Like he does when we play x-box)
I feel he never really got validation for who he is, so right now its just trying to show him that he is a good person. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting more, and wanting TB. Not like he has his act together either. We’re talking about having me come visit for New Years, finally engaging in the play that we have talked about now for over a year. It’s exciting, its scary and whatever the outcome, I think its something I need to do for myself to see if this is what I want sexually with out without him. It’s also New Years, I mean, that in itself is so dopily romantic. I always crave that movie romance moment that my adolescent self still craves, but does it exist? Is TB and all that goes with him just some sort of kinky adolescent fantasy of love and domination? (And how do I reconcile those two now, ugh)
But I feel that since we know each other so well, and we know how the other one works, it’s a good place to start. Right now, I want to feel that with him. I want to take both of our BDSM cherries. No matter the outcome, I want him to look back and always think of me as his first.
But then I get self-conscious and start feeling down on myself for wanting a relationship yet continually sabotaging my efforts. But do I want a relationship? And I feel that someone is always going to get the short end of this stick, and I don’t want it to be me.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Help Needed

So fellow bloggers, since I have this new boy who is willing to try anything I was wondering, what does everyone
1- recommend for slowly seeing if this is something he's interested in? any ideas
I was thinking some sensory play and some light commands at first, just to see if he 1- finds it erotic, 2- isn't too weirded out
2- What is a good beginner's toy box look like and where does one get these things? I saw a website that had some lovely crops and they were purple!! but they also had some other stuff that I was super confused about and therefore questioning their credibility. I was way too overwhelmed by all the harnesses and armbinders, etc.

thanks!!

Monday, November 12, 2007

Update on the incredible mess that is my sex life

So since I have been otherwise involved in a sort of stable and rewarding relationship for the past two weeks (although that has its problems and ups and downs too). I have been ignoring The Boy. And, of course, that means, he comes back, he’s like a flipping boomerang.
Here is an e-mail exchange that I am going to post, just to share. The problem is that I know him so much better than the new boy MJ, and I can’t really think of bringing him on the emotional roller coaster that is 1- sex with me, 2- kinky sex with me yet, so until I am ready to expose him fully to what I want from him (I also don’t think he can handle it yet emotionally, or me for that matter) I still think I am going to keep The Boy around, especially since I still kinda (gasp) think there is a chance for us.


The Boy: I’m back to wanting to be dominated and can't stop thinking about it. What’s with my head?
(My interjection: still it’s all about him)
Me: apparently it’s all over the place
The Boy: aren't you excited? When you come to visit bring your accoutrements. You’ll have me naked on a leash and I’ll be begging for you from my knees, only making eye contact when instructed. I’ll kiss you boots waiting for my chance to pleasure you between your legs. And I hope you'll still want to fuck me even though I’ve been so rude to you. I’m sorry...I want to be humbled
(My interjection: yet again, he doesn’t understand. I want to hit him because it turns me on, not because he has done something to utterly hurt me and therefore needs to be punished, that is even too fucked up for me to engage in, but of course, I still find him fucking sexy and I have never been known to listen, so I will play along)
Me: its all me, tons of accoutrements, but 100% me. I want tons of eye contact, I love eye contact. No boot kissing, unless I ask, I prefer you to just say please and sorry constantly don't say sorry unless you mean it I’ll do more than humble you, but this is not really about you now is it, its about making me happy by groveling every time I hit you I want you to say thank you, when it starts to hurt I want you to ask for more, when you start to grovel maybe then I’ll stop
The Boy: I’m impressed
Me: I’m impressive

He is such a mind fuck sometimes, but I still play along.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Moving on: training wheels domination

So there’s a new boy in my life. I don’t know where this one will go. He’s way too nice for me, since I do not do well with overt nice-ness. I don’t know, is it always bad to think: “is there something else out there?” Will that ever go away? But like all my friends have told me, I deserve someone nice someone to dote on me and do all those things I rarely ever get since I date emotionally stunted assholes. The thing is; do I want someone nice? But that’s another post. I mean, don’t get me wrong I like being complimented, but it has to be rare so it means something. Does that make sense? He lacks some sort of edge I feel, some sort of I must conquer you edge that I like to have (the douche bag gene?). I really enjoy the chase, my fav is the chase and then the win, and so having it already locked down just is difficult for me. Well not really, its hard to describe, I have my stable, there really is no chase with them, but they are not truly mine. My grasp is tenuous at best. I’m having a hard time expressing my discomfort and my lack of 100% sexual arousal, but I’ll get there I want to be able to explain it so I can conquer it. I just think that there is a side of him that is not 100% willing to step off any precipice out of not fear but complacency, and I am not a complacent person. I think that’s what it is. I prefer to be the less manic person, not the most. This requires further examination

Ok so back to the reason I’m writing:
So this new boy we shall call him MJ, he knows that I have dominant tendencies but has never walked down this path. He actually has some reservations 1- about women in general, 2- about women who want to tie men up. He had a friend who met this girl at a bar and she convinced him to let her tie him up. She anally raped him (mind you this is from him the day after, who knows what was consensual and what was buyer’s remorse) and left him tied to his bed to be found and ultimately humiliated by his military supervisor. With a story like that, and knowing his quiet ways, I can see his hesitation.
And like Marcelle’s Bay Area Boy, this one is super green. He is really quiet and had a very oppressive upbringing, so he kind of shied away from girls. He didn’t lose his virginity until he was 22 and had never had a woman swallow his come until me, which is downright wrong. BUT like I said, I’m a newbie too, two newbie’s…that’s like a high school virginity story right there and that’s too awkward to do, ever!
I digress, so I am trying to slowly work him into things I’m into. I like domination and control more than hitting (well the hitting comes, but it needs to be when I’m in the mood and since he’s so fresh and dopey already over me, I can’t see myself hitting him anytime soon, until I know he will be ok with something like that). So I thought I would try something new, and if anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.
So I thought the best way was to slowly get him into this control thing. So we played a little game, and it was HAWT. He had to tell me step by step what he was doing to me as he did it, if he stopped, I would remove his hand and push him away a little (later on this will be amended to something harder like a slap…that already sounds delicious) but you have to walk before you can crawl, right? The downsides to this, he can’t go down on me, keeping his mouth busy talking has its disadvantages, but it also is pretty fun. I get to hear him actually think through what he’s going to do which makes him think through it too! Hearing it while it’s happening, made me concentrate more on the exact location that he was touching, so if he said he was going to lightly touch my nipple, my heart would race and I would concentrate on that nipple. Now take that step-by-step until his mouth was on my nipple (if he wanted to do something else, he would have to remove his mouth to tell me) so all of foreplay until my orgasm was basically scripted. I enjoyed it thoroughly.
Example: I’m going to run one finger gently on the side of your clit, you’re so soft and wet, I’m not going to stick one finger in, slowing fucking you, now adding another…etc

You can see how this is a turn on, and especially since when he would get too carried away, he would stop saying what he was doing, mind you, it was hard making him stop, but prolonging it for both of us was pretty dam fun. And this was not limited to just “down there” action (I need to get more comfortable talking about my girl parts)
I thought that was a good “training wheels” sort of entrance, and it turned me on, so that’s good.
I mean, the first week worth of make outs were fun and all, but the regular bump and grind (literally) begins to lose their luster, I was getting bored. And this totally sparked things up again.

Any thoughts on more ways to ease him into this?
I told him that he can say no at anytime and if he has no interest in anything to let me know.


Quick aside
I want to share this IM convo that makes me happy

Talking about nothing in particular
MJ: fine, you win, I suck
M Leah: you don’t suck
MJ: I do if you ask

The force is strong with this one….

Friday, November 2, 2007

Happy 'Ween

Hi all!
I hope everyone had a great Halloween. I sure did, unfortunately it lasted from last friday untl wed, so i'm pretty beat. But I did want to post, that I have a new boy in my life! I will talk about him soon once I think of a good name to call him on this blog. It's been a week now and I am beginning to wonder....
He knows about my "inclinations" we'll see how this goes. He's super nice and actually a giving and supportive person, I don't know if i can handle such men.

Friday, October 26, 2007

deconstructing myself, a response to Marcelle

I want to respond to Marcelle's comment in its own post because I think she brings up many interesting points that I would like to explore in this incredibly self indulgent world that is the blog/diary (blogary?).
As a product of a hetero-normative suburban family I want to discuss the paradigms we work within. To not slip into grad school jargon (also v hard to do) and not indulge too deeply in auto-ethnography (which I hate), I would like to say that intellectually, I treat my sex life like I treat my research endeavors and all aspects of my life. I work within the framework I have been given, try to test its boundaries, and then subvert/deconstruct/understand it for my own purposes or maniacal plots for world domination. I am comfortable in my ontology yet question its fences. I think I have a knack for this sort of work (well I hope so, I am making it my career).
This is what I also love about BDSM; it works within our preconceived notions of sex, desire and interaction and uses those tropes to "do" sex. You play with bondage because its so overt in its meaning. Humiliation in sexy because it subverts our understanding of tenderness, yet it’s ultimately (for me) even more tender since it requires so much more trust and openness. THAT is what turns me on, that jump off the ledge of structural reason into a world of subversion, that in reality is not very subversive. It’s just open about its use of cultural norms for sexual gain. (let’s not even get into the binary of pleasure/pain)
Example:
There is nothing sexy about my dog's collar. He wears it so if he gets lost people know whom he belongs to. I put a collar on a man and what I am doing is claiming him, metaphorically he cant get lost because he's wearing his collar, its comforting in the same way. And its a turn on, not because I own him (this is not colonialism or slavery) its because we are playing at a game of ownership, we know where the boundaries are and we walk the line for both of our excitement and gain. He willingly wears it because with its use we are using all our cultural knowledge of what wearing a collar means and using it to get off on. And that play that "doing" brings sex to another level. One that is not just insert tab a into slot b. its a mind fuck.
And I get to be the pilot of this mindfuck, and I love it!
Now to the type of men I go for, as Marcelle as put it; it is my quest. Yes I agree, I am looking for an enigma, but I don't see why it would be so hard. I mean, I had a friend who dabbled in professional domination and all her clients were these high power Wall St. types. I want to remove kink from the back alley and bring it into my bedroom. Why is that so difficult?
Why can't my counterpart want to queer male female relations like I do, and not in a grad student post modern intellectual way, in a lets stop talking like Judith Butler (shout out to Marcelle since I know she knows who that is) and lets get to the act of fucking.

I know I am creating a fantasy, that’s all I do. I've realized that, I have a very overdeveloped imagination. I think that’s where things went wrong with “the boy” and me. He saw me as this sexual fantasy but I wasn't present, his vision of what he wanted sexually was reflected onto me. Unfortunately I took that to be something different, I saw the person the WHOLE person I wanted him to be. While he was fantasizing about me sexually, I was fantasizing about his entirety.
Transformative political possibility? I hope so, I just hope to become one with my sexuality and the person I am/hope to be. The only transformative power I hope this has is to stop being so self-conscious on the inside. I posture at self-esteem, but I have some very low lows. I see sex like this to be able to give me all the emotional cravings I like, in a way that I can perform sexuality with a nice evil cackle while participating in gender normativity as well as ironically mocking it. I have grown up with too much Abercrombie and have lived too much of a normal well-adjusted female life (mind you we all have our issues and hang-ups) to turn to men in makeup or with an axe to grind against the high school jock. I was that high school jock (Think a few parts Mean Girls, one part band geek, and like 3.2 parts nerd queen) I know I was awful I’m now reformed from my evil middle school social climbing ways but I can’t get away from who I was/am and what that has made me. I like the quirky part environmental part alternative wasp.
Maybe my problem is that I think too deeply about this and need to stop theorizing and start doing.
Until I find someone, this is all just fantasy and blog fodder.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Outlet quality "irregulars"

I'm going to apologize for not posting in awhile. What do you post on a sex blog when you're not having kinky sex? or not even thinking about kinky sex?!?!
Right now I find myself collecting a stable full of strays. They are all very sweet and all have different qualitites, but apparently the most important one is that I have total control and they stroke (not something sexual) my ego. Which I kind of need right now after the loss of my oh so favorite sexual object and love of my life "the boy". It still hurts my heart, and I haven't really dealt with it, although the roomie was great about it. But I think it was for the best, he will never make the grand gesture I oh so desire (move to where I am) so its just a fantasy.
But with my new stable of factory rejects, or outlet quality irregulars I wonder, can I find what I'm looking for? I want a man, full on Y chromosome, intelligent, witty, smart, upwardly mobile (this could be anything, he just has to be working towards something) man who is MANLY and also wants to submit. I am not ready to look on line, since I am not looking for more weird sexual fuckbuddies, I am just looking for someone who can give me those giant puppy dog eyes and still look masculine doing it. That's what I like, the big ole man, submitting to lil ole me. It turns me on, I want to enjoy my smallness and femininity and control your big male self. No more wussy guys (sorry wussy guys) or overly dominant guys (sorry all you cavemen types).
are you out there?
As you can see I have both right now.
I have a guy who is so sexually agressive it borders on rape and makes me feel uncomfortable, he texts (not even calls, such a bad news bear) and wants me to come over at 10pm to hang out. Um, not going to happen.
And then I have a few who think I am awesome, but they are not agressive enough.

I miss my boy.
not to mention I saw his doppelganger last night, compelte with puppy dog eyes and lovely mouthed slightly opened innocence....sigh

I will post some cool new stuff on here soon, give me time to go through some growing pains.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Where do you fall?





I think (and I've actually been told) I am a unicorn. A fantastic mythical beast, I am honored.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Moving on

So The Boy and I are over. I'm done being put through the emotional ringer and he's done with having the same conversation with me about how he's not giving me enough. So tonight I am going to drink a bottle of wine, watch the notebook and then move the fuck on. I tried being emotional and open for once, and it didn't work. So...back to my stable and separation from "feelings" time to move on.
this blog will not end, its not about him dammit, its about me. When I've had time to process I will write more. But rest assured, his number is already deleted and I am too stubborn and thickheaded to revisit that hurt anytime soon.
I also want to say thanks so much for all the support, all the comments have been a true blessing and I feel so happy to know that people are out there that I can turn to.
I wish I can find that guy who wants to play these games with me, but understand the emotional price that they pay. I could never hurt someone I do not love (i know thats weird, but for right now, there is just many issues of trust for me to just play at that) and he never got that.
So posts to come
- more pop culture discussions, i have been meaning to talk about gentlemen prefer blondes (the movie) and wonderwoman (the history) so that's coming
- the OTHER men in my life (yes even when I do feel "feelings" I never put all my eggs in one basket)
- and once I can, how I really feel about the present circumstances.


I want to say thank you to everyone who reads this blog, who listens to my shit, and is my sounding board.

Monday, October 8, 2007

A fantasy and a worry

SO I have this fantasy, and I thought I would share some of it and see what people thought. I don't know this whole new sex life where I talk openly about what actually turns me on still gives me the heeby jeebies, but If I’m going to talk about these things with the boy, then I am going to have to be comfortable with saying it.
It kind of reminds me when I was younger and used to make out. Weird slight side note and story but I totally remember when I was younger and boys would touch me you know "down there" (if I’m going to talk about when I was in high school and early college, I might as well get right back into the mindset) I used to always push their hand away when I was feeling good, when it was getting too much. It was also, they never took the time to work out my excitement on my time, and so they just went straight for the clit. But I also never let myself truly get into the experience and go with the orgasm, I always pushed their hand away and quickly closed my legs, don't ask me why I did this. This is probably why I am so good at head, good way to get them to forget about what’s between my legs, if I’m between theirs.
Ok back to the story, so I have this fantasy, but it only involves the boy I cant put someone else in this fantasy yet. I want to have a threesome, but not in a traditional sort of way I guess. I want another woman there but she's MY play toy, basically she follows my orders, does to him what I want, he can't touch her and he has to watch me the entire time and tell me how much he likes it and thank me for it, and every now and then, I would hit him and caress him too. Oh, and he would be totally handcuffed with those nice leather ones. She would do all the work until I was ready to fuck him, and I would just get to watch, he could ask for things he wanted, but I wouldn't work on his needs because I control her. And then when I was turned on, when I wanted him, I would politely ask her to leave and we would fuck like no other.
So besides the fact that I don't know if I can control him let along some strange non-existent fantasy woman, but... is this wrong? I’m demeaning another woman for my fetish play. I feel bad about wanting to do something like this, but I find it so hot. I also find it so awful that just saying it makes me feel really creepy and wonder 1- could I really go through with it and 2- should I? Besides being so not vanilla style sex- can I handle the emotion that this would bring up in me?
(Maybe I will save this for like a 10-year anniversary, I would hope by then I would have the stones to do this)

Ok, so am I weird? What happens when you're halfway through a scene and you can't do it, it starts to make you feel small instead of big and the squishiest form of vulnerability ever?

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

It's just a little bit of History repeating

Jesus, I just realized something about myself and I’m amazed that I’m that predictable and pissed that I’m doing it again.
Fuck
So if you read past blog entries I sort of whine about the fact that I have no stable of men, that it dwindled and became a stable of zero and blah blah, change of life, new leaf, no more stringing men and keeping them around but I get hurt and like the attention all at the same time, etc etc
Well fuck
I'm doing it again, I was getting in bed getting all excited to relive that make out on the precipice which was super hot and super innocent at the same time (even though I was making him tell me he wanted me to hit him harder) and then I realized, shit, I'm not fantasizing about The boy, I'm thinking of someone else, someone has gained entry into my one handed bedtime stories, and that got me thinking, shit
The stable is back....
In this stall we have
Mr. Boston- an original stable member who I made out with in Cancun in get ready... 2001 that long ago, he floats in and out. But these days, I’m not so swept up in him, but he’s a super nice guy, really cute, and has a really quick wit. But been there, moving on...

Then we have all young and chipper...
The Swede, an exchange student who I met out who is 4 yrs younger than me, right out of school and so bright eyed and bushy tail that he makes me think of a cartoon chipmunk, (also painfully bad in bed) no hip swerve just jackhammer but I blame his youth. This one has potential though because he’s a fast learner and I think can be trained.

There are a few more, but they are in different stages of coming in and going out, like past make outs that are thinking back fondly and might return, and new flirtations that are too new to make that call and see if they make it in, but dammit I’m rebuilding my empire. While I like it, I wont get bored and I will always have something (or someone) to think about. I'm not sure I want to; I want to be able to combine what I get from all of them into one human person. I’m fucking needy! I like getting, as much of my physical and psychological needs met...but maybe I'm ready to move on? Maybe I SHOULD move on? But I cant see myself getting serious with any of them (Except the boy, but that is too painful to think about, thinking about him hurts my heart) but this new boy (the out of town make out,) is moving away too, so yet again, he’s in the stable and due to circumstance cant make it in the main house.
And thinking of my stable, is this the way i avoid getting hurt in serious relationships or am I just really dam picky and wont make a move with
1- men who adore me (and that freaks me out)
2- men who intimidate me and therefore dick me over/we mutually move on
Ok I'm done thinking too deep in my head, I'm going back to that hot ass picture and think of the naughty things I want to do to that exposed chest.

Monday, October 1, 2007

The coming week/ my "to do" list

Ok so I haven't posted in awhile because things haven't been that exciting or difficult to work out. Well probably both of those things aren't true, but I’ll start from the beginning and work my way back down.
Always the place to start the boy.
I have been thinking of a way to talk to him about my concerns.
1- I am not sure he likes me or he likes the image of me he can create in his mind (and corollary to this he worries that to please him I will become the woman or bow to the woman he has in his mind- this one is only slightly true)
2- he's not attentive enough, and I know he’s in a rough spot but he needs to think about my needs too and that its just a fact that I am needier and he is going to have to know how to deal with that
3- now here is where it gets hairy, I finally confronted him about the fact that I think we have been cheated out of our relationship since we have never lived in the same place for too long. I was drunk and it all just came out, and I wasn't ready to share this with him yet because I didn't think it through and it probably came out whiny and annoying. Fuck, and he’s not in a good place because he's missing home and when I want to be comforted, I don’t do so well with the comforting and then things get even weirder between us.
Phew.
But I think where he is in his life; it’s easier for him to come here than for me to totally uproot myself in 3 yrs and move someplace where I have no family. If he chooses to go back to school where I live, that’s a great training wheels period with a finite ending that we can experience each other and then, if I am still in love with him, it miraculously worked out then I am ready to jump off a cliff if I have to keep him around.

So on that note, I'm just going to take a breather from him for awhile (I think it might be best, but as always I love your comments and thoughts) and just let him think for awhile, although he gets stuck in his head too much, if he’s not there 100% I can't make him. And I hate just puking feelings everywhere since I get uncomfortable when that happens to me I don't want to do it. I think in a few days we'll talk about it, and since I wrote it out, it hopefully will go smoother. I just think that its time for me to either jump into it, or stop caring no more feelings limbo with this one.

Next post: possible adorable little international man-child I can mold to my every kinky fantasy. Rendezvous with the boy I beat up when I went out of town… and hopefully less procrastination and more completion of work.

Monday, September 24, 2007

NO MORE FANTASY, REALITY!

So this post took a few days of marinating in my mind for me to be able to write it.
I mean, I had to think of the perfect way to introduce this, but it failed me.
I DD IT!
For the first time ever, I hit a man (intentionally and for my pleasure) during a sexual act. And Jesus, it was absolutely- fucking-awe inspiring-fantastic. There are no words to describe the high I got from the brute force of it, as well as the high I got from hearing his response (positive!). I was always worried that I couldn't do it/break out of my shell, /hit someone, and make it seem sexy. I mean I worry that if I slap someone in the face I'll ruin their eardrum and for the rest of their life their balance will be off. But that never happened (yay!!)
So details:
I was away for the weekend, and all this talk with the boy (see previous posts) got me thinking and got me way hot and bothered. And I was wondering, yes I can talk about it (slightly) and yes, I want to do it but CAN I?
I was out, in a new town, surrounded with people who don't know me and I said, why not? This is the perfect time/place to try on my dominant training wheels. I met this guy at a club, absolutely adorable. Tall, built, that perfect combo of skater boy and urban player. I was drunk, so it came easy. I will go into details because I want to relive them again. We shall call him Tom.
So things were looking good, I really got along with him. We had great conversation (that I vaguely remember, see above inebriation comment) and I could tell he was into me so it was green light go! We went from show, to after party, to apparently “make out point”. I fucking kid you not, I made out like a 50s teenage movie star. Annette and me have been to Make Out Point. But it was cute in that “I’m drunk and am going to hit you so I’ll let you take me wherever since things might get hairy anyway” kinda way.
Up on a hill, overlooking the city sitting on a rock (or a precipice...it just sounds funnier) I got violent and FUCKING LOVED IT. There were of course make outs before there always has to be foreplay, and I wanted to see how he felt about the whole “take charge thing”. Because if we remember, even if its vanilla sex I’m having I will no longer allow myself to be put in situations where I feel uncomfortable/pressured into things/uncomfortable positions mind AND body. SO I did it! And it was exhilarating and great, now I can’t take full responsibility, I should be totally honest. I did apologize a few times; I mean, I didn’t know how to proceed. I kept saying sorry (goes back to my constant need for validation) but once I started hearing his moans, and could see that he enjoyed what I was doing I WENT TO TOWN. From now on, I can only date boys who have enough hair that I can get a nice good grip. I grabbed hair; I pulled, (awesome). I pulled him towards me, I pulled him away from me (I took a page out of DevastatingYet’s book with her love of Jos’ collar) I dragged that boy around by his hair. And when I wasn’t bending him to my will I was steadying his face so I could smack him (delicious, that sound!!!!) There was a point when (mind the graphic nature, small children look away) when he was fingering me (there is just no nice way to say that) while I was holding myself upright (yes, we were both standing) by pulling on his hair with his head facing up while I was biting his neck to hold on (I’m sure I left a mark). This is of course when he decided to just slightly mention that he had a condom. Sorry folks, I was on a precipice, not gonna happen, which is exactly what I told him. So he tried to get me down on my back, which of course did not lead to sex, but more face slapping, and me asking for him to beg for it (which he did). But there was no orgasm in his future (this one was about me testing my limits, in a bed, and comfy and in a house maybe… with twigs in my back and his shirt under my ass…. not so much). I don’t remember if I came (read: drunk) but I am super psyched I tried this. Now I know I can’t expect every boy to enjoy this that I drag/bring home from the club, but it’s a good place to start and good to know that maybe I don’t need to look to the RPG/DD playing nerds for a little bdsm luvin. Now can I turn some Abercrombie models? That’s who I want to hit and tie up… or maybe there is a part II of this story, Tom is moving away, but I am wiling and able for round II as long as he expects/can handle more of the same.

For what happened INSIDE tom’s car while I was playing on the precipice getting my sadistic rocks off check some of the other blogs I check, it won’t be hard, you don’t need to be Columbo.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

New Tagline

I just changed my tag line. I'm not "coming to terms" with anything. That just sounds like I have some sort of disease I need to accept and move on from. So, it needed to go; I am a fresh faced newbie that wants to find cute hot verile sexy ass men who get off on letting me be violent and slightly sadistic (insert evil laugh) during acts of foreplay and sex.

Update

So, I have a lot to share but for the sake of continuity I will go in order and give you guys the scandalous post next. SO; update on boy.

He responded to that email in one sentence. He liked the orgasm control stuff but 1- did not comment on any of the other things 2- actually didn't accomplish the no orgasm rule, and then told me about it.

I did not like either of those repsones.

then he called and we talked, and he said the e-mail overwhelmed him, and he doesn't know what to do about us. That if we lived in the same place he would like to do these things but that I demand a lot from him and he doesn't want to dissapoint.
To which I said
1- doing this long distance allows us to epxlore our fantasies in a non judgemental non realistic environment that I think allows for more openness. If someone has a problem or gets weirded out, it all existed over the phone or through email and therefore can easily be fixed and discussed in a fashion that I feel comfortable exploring without any negative consequences of too serious emotions or hearbreak (I know I will be proved wrong on this)
2- I know I overwhelm him, I overwhelm myself, I get caught up in life and fling myself at it full force, it's hard for anyone to deal with that, especially a boy who is confused with life,himself and his sexuality. But that's why we work.
3- he could never dissapoint me (Well that is totally untrue) but as long as we talk about our actions and their consequences and don't get all passive aggressive I don't see how he could dissapoint me in the way he talks about it.

so any thoughts on how to do this long distance?
I'm thinking that we need to have some sort of schedule, and that part of his submission NEEDS to be understanding my emotional needs and meeting those. And that is what I was trying to convey, I hope it got through.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Stepping off into oblivion (inclinations towards melodrama)

so before I share the email exchange I am beginning with the demoted boy, I thought I would say first, Props to me for being a posting fiend! Secondly, I still don't know if I am going to tell him about this blog, I'm not ready to share yet.

so here is the edited version of my fall into the abyss. I call it that because he's my first. The first boy I have ever said I love you to (he said it first, and it wasn't during sex so therefore it counts), the first person I really talked to even before we decided (well HE decided, he brought it up). so therefore this is super hard, and it might not end well (odds are against it). but thats ok, because I will always look back fondly, and this might just be a stepping stone for both of us, who knows. so here it goes.

*****
I had fun talking to you, you’re fun, I like the things we talk about. I like talking about these things with you. So I was thinking since Im **(insert your own adjective), I’m going to think too much. I am going to make some demands. This will help me get comfortable in expressing myself and being the dominant woman of (apparently) both of our fantasies.
for me to feel like I can dominate, I need to feel less out of control and more secure. Lets take this one step at a time and one emotion at a time. (if you want me to be blunt here, lets not get bogged down in relationship talk, lets just talk) Because I want to do this, and it might get intense, and we have to be able to talk about our fantasies, not feel judged, and then talk about how things worked out after. Sound good? So therefore, I need to be able to make demands on you, I will try to make them reasonable demands, like I might whine for you to come visit, and try to demand too much of your time but those are decisions you have to make on your own and that’s not the control I want to have. I will only make demands that are in reach, like…I want to try this no masturbation thing, I want to see how long you can go, I want you to have to ask, and I want to be able to say no, and I want you to then come for me, BY me. (well with my help, I don’t live close enough nearby for that to totally work, but next time we see each other that can be a great way to start). Make sense?
grar, this is hard for me too

**********

i will keep you posted.

Monday, September 17, 2007

The things I worry about

Ok So dear three readers, I thought I would wine some more and then I promise I will post some smut. I have enough compiling that I can really titillate now. So as I've said earlier this is all very new to me. I discovered this desire because of since demoted boy and have not really had the opportunity to explore these things outside of my fantasies with said boy. (I don't even know yet if this is something I only feel for him) But these things turn me on. To quote a fellow blogger devastatingyet:
http://devastatingyet.wordpress.com/

"Having Joscelin display ultimate submission to me is not my overarching goal. My overarching goal is having us both be happy, fulfilled, and having a good time. And the truth is, his ultimate submission is not even, for me, the goal of our d/s.
Why do I do d/s with him? I think there are two things I really enjoy about it, to wit,
I get to get what I want, be served, exert control, mold him to my will, etc., and
He displays submissive feelings that I find unspeakably delicious."

I agree and couldn't have said it better, so I just cut and pasted it. But I worry, as much as he worries that he is "weird" I worry that he will think I'm weird, that I will let someone see me so exposed and vulnerable to explore with them fantasies I have about hitting them (I mean, come on...what Disney Princess wants to do that, and we all know I aspire to be what my 5 yr old self thought life was like) But that’s what I worry about, because I worry that he wants to get off on being hit, and I want to get off on the power, on that rush. He wants the physicality and the image of domination that he sees in popular media, and I want him to turn over his squishy center demand being loved on my terms. Is that weird? Is this doomed? Are we looking for two different things, and most importantly can we find each other in the middle? Grar

Sunday, September 16, 2007

The Golden Compass

Ok, so last year I came across the best books ever. If you have ever liked the Narnia series but were slightly miffed with all the God and Jesus references and overtones, check out Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" series. I give you until Dec when the first movie comes out to catch up.
Here is my deamon. Basically, in the books: your soul lives outside your body in animal form, and the animal form says something about you.

here is mine!

Monday, September 10, 2007

The pickup artist, or the archtype of the Disney Villainess (me)


So 3 readers, has anyone seen this show on VH1 called the pickup artist? I am sad to say, SO sad to say that that shows has my fucking number. Women, go watch that show and tell me he doesn’t. He deconstructed how to make us weak and marketed it to losers. What a genius. He’s a weird looking dude, but just looking at him I can tell he’s the kind of man who would let me pull his hair while I sat in his lap and make him tell me all those naughty things he wants me to do, he pleads… oh the games would begin… And he’s not my type! And the lines he tells these guys are horrendous, actually think he’s kind of revolting in an aging Tommy Lee sort of way, but it makes sense! He knows how to keep himself interesting at every stage of the pickup, therefore you aren’t really looking around. I can see how his system works, and he would grow on you. He can understands your fantasies and the exact way to manipulate them. Jesus Christ I want that talent, just think of the power dynamic in that foreplay, actually playing cat and mouse in the beginning…phew. I would walk around Oozing sex if I was him, and that fellow readers (Watchers) is how he does it. A true dominant, he is dominant in life, like an actual dog, he can lead a pack. I envy his talent, and the trail of heartbreak he probably leaves behind. He knows how to read all our fantasies, and that’s why he’s all of our kryptonite. To be that gifted at manipulating a man, I get turned on just to think about it.
I need to go hit someone and cackle, please excuse me.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

WTF?

I just wanted to comment on that picture, because the more I stare at it, the more it freaks me out. Is that woman looking at DaVinci's drawings of a man, or bondage, and what is she going to do with all those dildos? Best story and creative submission wins a biscuit.
Also, I don't enjoy that that website all the archtypes of female sexuality, not one of the drawings represents a woman of color. What if you're a black bottom? or a hispanic romantic? where are THOSE women?

In life as in sex..

I took this quiz to see what my erotic personality is, turns out I got "the student". I think its accurate. Take the test and let me know what YOU get.

My Erotic Personality is The Student. Take the Erotic Personality Quiz on SageVivant.com and discover yours!I took Sage Vivant's Erotic Personality Quiz and discovered I'm a Student!

What is your Erotic Personality? Find out now..

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Coming out of my Kinky Closet

Ok dear 3 readers, I'm going to do something I haven't done yet on this blog. It's a big vulnerable step, but I feel if I ever want someone to actually PARTICIPATE in the sex I want I need to be able to get it out there and talk about it, the particulars and be able to actually say the uncomfortable word that is pussy. Women are taught not to be sexual beings so this is a hard one, especially when the things that get you excited are considered something of a taboo. If I ever want to be the dominant woman of a hot subs' fantasy, I need to be the dominant woman for myself and my fantasies. Expose myself! Come out of my kinky closet. Time to woman up in the name of the/my female orgasm!

Its a dam shame that the boy (still demoted) was the one who brought me to actually let myself think about the things that turn ME on instead of all those fucktards I used to make out with. LIke I said, my douchebag quotient is supremely high (i think its because I want to conquer the unconquerable, they are a notch in my belt just as much as I am in theirs) but they are always dissapointing. Like I have said previously, I am DONE with the uncomfortable blow jobs and inconsiderate sexual partners.
Now i get to think about sex that turns ME on. and don't let me fool you, I've had good sex, but its so few and far between.
THINGS I LIKE: I like new things, I like to explore, it always needs to be fun and serious at the same time, thats what gets me wet. I like being coy, and I like being direct, I like laughing during sex and I like hitting you too. I get turned on by men tied up, and I get turned on by the vulnerable moments.
I want to hit you because i want to see your anticipation, and those fucking adorable puppy dog eyes that make me melt (this can be expanded to all guys, i love expressive eyes, i only sleep with people with gorgeous eyes, but the boy, his take the cake for that vulnerable male goopiness that just makes my belly flop, maybe a post just on eyes to come)
is it getting hot in here?
I like looking pretty, for myself, i want you to acknowledge this and find it dead sexy, i wear hot shoes because they make me feel ten fucking feet tall, i like HIM in leather and rope and handcuffs and expensive looking suits, and plain white tee shirts and jeans, and for some reason i have this thing for a zorro mask, oh and dont forget after playing sports when they are hyped up on man on man physical contact. I love the tension the cat and mouse game, i like to wrestle and to play games, and to kick too close to your balls, i like to giggle and i like to hold you down and make you tell me you want me to hit you, it turns me on, I like seeing my small hands next to your big ole man hand and knowing what they can do to your big ole man body.I want you to ask if you can come, and be denied until I'm ready to GIVE that to you. I want to be on top of you and (hopefully) tell you what i want you to do, and expect for you to be impish and break the rules a few times just for my pleasure. I want you to lick my pussy (something i cant say still) and do it right, gentle in the beginning and then hard to make me come. I totally lost my train of thought, but thats what I like, i like when someone tells me i'm beautiful (but not to the point that i feel like i'm being stalked)
I want to be your pleasure AND your pain. I want to kiss the wounds we made together, i want you to cry and i want you to come and I want you to know that it was all because i pushed you to your limits in some sort of capacity. And most of all, I want you to play, I want you (oh mysterious nonexistant partner) to enjoy playing games because you find them just as erotic as I do.
So these are the things I like,
I also would like some more readers, so i think I'm going to start posting some of these "fantasies" in more detail.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

A look back




I LOVE pinup culture, love it. I think it was the heyday of true femininity, yet so obviously feminist. They were adorable, and coy and incredibly ironic. the perfect mix of feminine wiles with oozing sex appeal. I love the clothes and the attitude. Tons of red lips and curled hair. It looks like so much work, so mich prepping, how did people ever get work done when they had to spend that much time on their hair?! But it is fantastic, when women were seen as gorgeous because they had curves, not that waiflike prepubescent nonsense. Just give me one Jean Harlow over these skinny actresses now.
Vargas girls were just sexy enough to be naughty but nothing too risque. The pictures of Betty Paige are fantastic, she makes all that bondage look so innocent and real. No air brushing, just real women doing naughty things looking like women. There is a sense of vulnerability and innocence, even though its sex appeal is so obvious! If I can be anything in my life I would dream to be a Marilyn, Jane, Betty, Jean, Briggite, or a Mae.

Take this quiz:
I got betty paige and could not be happier.
http://www.blogthings.com/whatfamouspinupareyouquiz/


and check this out:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pin-up_girl

Thursday, August 30, 2007

You're my obsession


My obsession....
so I recently got HBO and have been catching up with the entourage's I have missed. I have fallen in love dear 3 readers of my blog. Who watches entourage? If you do you are familiar with the crazed indie director Billy Walsh, played by Rhys Coiro. Rhys if you're out there, I want to do all sort of naughty things to you. Please get some photos of yourself nearly or fully naked and send them to me pronto. Tall, dark, handsome and tourtured...that's how I like'em

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

The uncomfortable word that is pussy

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Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Spy v. Spy

so i thought I would use this forum also to just air my dirty laundry and talk smack about myself. For someone who wants to be able to call the shots in the bedroom, you would expect extreme confidence. But sadly, that is not the case. Mind you, I do have some, but I am still trying to come to terms with who I am in a world of people who are not like me. I mean, I went to an elite university full of wasps and that totally freaked me out, not being included in things just because I couldn't trace my family back to the Mayflower and my family likes to eat "ethnic" foods and I tan easier than most. So therefore I have a sick desire to become, waif-like, blonde, and generally unexciting. It looks easier, they always have boyfriends (I never have one, I just have my stable of losers who flit in and out, but who I love desperately and get upset when they move on and find serious relationships that aren't me. Although I doubt I would want any of them around for more than few days without wanting to hurt them, and not in the good way.) I am not tall, I am not skinny, and I am far from the blonde boarding school girls decked out in their Lilly Pulitzer that I so despise and admire at the same time. I like my quirks, I just wish it landed me more decent men. This does then go back to the point that I usually like douchebags...
But if it wasn't for all the douches, I would have never found my calling. All douches (I shouldn't essentialize, but since this is my forum, I will) feel they need to take charge in th bedroom. And this always leads to me thinking of my "to do" list and having my head crammed un uncomfortable positions that make my neck hurt, and my self-esteem plumet. I feel that all men should make it their goal to make sure a woman (or man) feels comfortable when they have their mouth around your dick. I hated the humiliation I felt when this would happen. I don't like being on the recieving end of humiliation or pain, yet, when I took control, told them what to do, what I want and where they could shove their uncomfortable high school blow jobs I got excited, wet, and with the ones who found my excitement a turn on, things got fun. So I guess this is a post about my conflicted selves. The self who wants the bland barbie life with her blonde wasp who has missionary sex and only cares about their gratification (but this is only because of the gorgeous facade they display and parade at country clubs that won't accept me as a member) and the person who I am, yet sometimes I am ashamed of. She's weird and quirky, is a fan of high heels and slutty makeup and wants to find a man (maybe even a few) who want to explore what I want, because that is also what they want and maybe, I'll be at peace with who I am if I find someone else to walk besides me all the way?
so cheesy and lame, but sometimes we all get a little sentimental.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Existential Crisis #1

So I've had some musings...but I don't think I really have enough readers to post an existential crisis. But I'll just go for it and see what happens.
so existential crisis #1:
So a little back story, I usually like a stable of men. Nothing serious, just a mixture of men I keep (and they spread to many continents), through e-mail, IM, phone and personal interactions I have a pretty sizable bunch. It's pretty much training wheels BDSM because I never had a community to call my own or people I could draw ideas from (thank you bitchy!!!) until now, so i was in the dark about a lot of stuff.
So these men I keep them around to make me feel good. A greeting card if you will. someone to always call me pretty, remember a wonderful time they had with me, and just generaly either lift my spirits or get me off when I feel like giving them the attention. But sometimes I lose one, and its always hard. they are MINE. mind you, i dont want to date them seriously, i just dont want them to date anyone else. i know, its selfish. So with my latest member defecting, i'm qestioning my ways. and also thinking...
ok, so now I have yet another requirement for the men I date. And the list was long to begin with.
Must be:
cute, intelligent, driven, witty, taller than me, fun to hang out with (staying in or going out), a good dancer, interested in travel, and able to explore new things and have fun
(mind you, i ususally give on some of these) This list is pretty long, and now i;ve added one more?!?!


with all my men defecting and my age not getting younger, am I just adding to my inability to ever find someone to grow old with?
ug, the feminist in me is pissed that i am thinking this way, but fuck it, i dont want to be wrinkly and all alone. what if i slip in the bathtub? they wont find me until the smell starts bothering my neighbors!! (if you couldnt tell, things aren't going well with boyfriend, we're kinda 'taking a break') grr
so frustrating

Friday, August 10, 2007

Looking Back; the story of the Preacher Man

So I thought i would share with everyone the first time i really got a high from a sexual encounter and looking back, probably the beginning of my love of the power dynamic of a BDSM sexual "lifestyle" (of course i didn't know this at the time).

I was in college on my semester abroad. I always seem to go for the ones who are either the pompous douchebags, or the tortured soul douchebags. This boy falls into the latter category. We shall call him Preacher Man. Every morning he would wake up at 6am to pray, a good boy from the MidWest, and of course saving himself for marriage. If you can tell by the moniker I gave him, he also aspired to be a Pastor. (he made it pretty close, last I heard he is a religious social worker). So we lived in a really sparse dorm situation and we both had roommates, so we had to get creative with our endeavours.
Preacher Man and I started talking over drinks one night, which turned into some make outs in a corner (very classy).
This innocent little relationship soon turned into me continually testing his limits and trying to push him into seriously questioning his morality in relation to his sexuality and religion (seriously, he told me it kept him up at nights).

I don't even remember how this started, but he called it "wrestling" which in reality, it totally was. We would meet up in a unused storage closet, empty and not air conditioned and do just that, we would cage fight basically until we were both sweaty and out of breath, everything was allowed (I never play fair) I would bite, smack, hit him dangerously close to places he cherised, and also was known to put all my weight into knocking his legs out from under him. He of course, being about a foot taller than me, could always subdue me. He'd push his entire weight on top of me while holding down my hands (usually over my head). It got pretty serious, i was always bruised in shapes oddly similar to hands complete with fingers, and he couldn't go shirtless from all the bites I gave him. But this is where it get's interesting, once he had me down he would lose his nerve and I would just stare back at him, like "come on, big man, this is your game what's next (knowing that he couldnt make those decisions), it was pretty weird but incredibly hot. Until he admitted that his size and control didn't equal him winning (even while he was still on top of me), then we would start making out. It was such a big rush! And obviously he loved it too, I would make him ask for the things he wanted to do with me/to me, knowing fully well that saying such things would humiliate him. Making him use the same mouth he spoke to God with to ask me to suck him off, or ask if he could go down on me. I would pretend I couldn't hear him and make him repeat it. Since he as a virgin, the pesky question of sex and when this ended was all on me, yes I would give him head usually, but it was never expected or required. Most of the time, i would get on top of him ad dry hump him while telling him what sex feels like/what it would feel like. He aimed to please, since he was over compensating for the no sex part, and he took direction wonderfully.
I'm not saying this situation didn't totally fuck me up too, I mean, he was emotionally unavailable and confused about why he liked what we were doing, yet in his mind saw it as wrong. So he blamed me for corrupting him, for leading him astray, etc. But he would always come back. And of course, I wasn't a big fan of being snubbed and looked down upon for things I knew we both liked.
Even today, he randomly calls and emails. He wanted to get together recently. He is now divorced from his wife (he waited until marriage) and wanted to reconect. But I have no interest in going back, I want to move forward. We both got out of it what we wanted. I learned that I like my sex with a devlish smirk and a side of surrender, and he learned that sexuality is more complex and fun than what he learnd in bible study. He needs to move on, and so do I. No more tortured souls, I need someone confident in their submission (still haven't found that, more on Boyfriend later)