Jan 26, 2007 9:44 pmMood: restless, 14 Views
Today, I'm in the mood for a relationship. Not just any ol' relationship ('cause that's easily accessible), but one designed by both parties to be fulfilling and pleasing. Something effortless but emotionful, loving, sensual, humorous, thought provoking, warm, inviting, even spiritual, passionate. The bond must be real. Intimate.What I had was done. Over. The intimacy was gone. Without that...without me looking into your eyes and wanting you...not just wanting you on a physical level, but wanting YOU...there's nothing.He'd asked me to be with him, but I couldn't bring myself to. I understand how people feel when they just go through the motions. I require that passion or I just can't get it going.That's something more than one man (including him) has said about me: I'm very passionate. If it's directed at you, in whatever manner, how very lucky that man is. If it's gone...it's quite sad.I need that to thrive. I could use a little right now.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
I couldn't do it.
Jan 15, 2007 9:57 pmMood: melancholy, 34 Views
The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular one and its indifference to substitutes is one of life's major mysteries. --Iris Murdoch
I stole this quote from another person's blog.I responded to her use of the quote. However, I found myself in this position just this weekend.Simply because one presents himself before me does not mean that I can partake with the same vigor and enthusiasm...that I may have had before.I think, "His kiss does not compare..." or "This doesn't feel like..."A switch is thrown and I'm not on anymore. Lights out, good night, thanks for coming. Maybe he realizes. The coward in me hopes he does.The selfish bitch in me hopes he doesn't. Either way the situation takes care of itself: nothing changes or everything/nothing changes.I craved him. But not who was in front of me, who wanted me to want him. He wanted me to feel for him what he's building for me. I can't. Not now. I did. He told me then that he didn't want me. He did not want to give me what I needed of him.Fine. I put my feelings away and moved on. It was easy. Necessary. It was done. Now he returns and requests (out of the blue) that I resurrect what he killed. Easter's not here yet.What happened? Nothing. He kissed me, I withdrew. I couldn't respond like I do with him. I don't feel that welling passion. My mind drifts to a different encounter, different face, different sensations. I rip him apart (in my head) for being everything he's always been. It's not his fault. But it is.He's just a fling right now...but I like it.He's supposed to be something more, but I'm unsure
The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular one and its indifference to substitutes is one of life's major mysteries. --Iris Murdoch
I stole this quote from another person's blog.I responded to her use of the quote. However, I found myself in this position just this weekend.Simply because one presents himself before me does not mean that I can partake with the same vigor and enthusiasm...that I may have had before.I think, "His kiss does not compare..." or "This doesn't feel like..."A switch is thrown and I'm not on anymore. Lights out, good night, thanks for coming. Maybe he realizes. The coward in me hopes he does.The selfish bitch in me hopes he doesn't. Either way the situation takes care of itself: nothing changes or everything/nothing changes.I craved him. But not who was in front of me, who wanted me to want him. He wanted me to feel for him what he's building for me. I can't. Not now. I did. He told me then that he didn't want me. He did not want to give me what I needed of him.Fine. I put my feelings away and moved on. It was easy. Necessary. It was done. Now he returns and requests (out of the blue) that I resurrect what he killed. Easter's not here yet.What happened? Nothing. He kissed me, I withdrew. I couldn't respond like I do with him. I don't feel that welling passion. My mind drifts to a different encounter, different face, different sensations. I rip him apart (in my head) for being everything he's always been. It's not his fault. But it is.He's just a fling right now...but I like it.He's supposed to be something more, but I'm unsure
New Year, New Dick??
I haven't blogged in a while.
It's not that nothing's been happening but simply that I haven't wanted to put it out there like that. I realize that while my face is out here, (my tits as well), and that this is a completely public site (though many would be hard pressed to state, "Hey! Didn't I see you on ***** ****** ******" in mixed company), I won't make my entire life public.
However, there are, of course, those juicy little tidbits which can be mentioned without great recourse. This may be one of those times. Maybe, because I don't know where this little rendevous is going. Maybe, because I'm not really taking it seriously. Maybe, because I have never actually entertained, let alone gotten physical with, someone younger than myself. Maybe, for some other factors.Right now, though, we'll go as far as it goes, even if tomorrow is the last time.
There's nothing too racy or out there (yet)...just a little something that's making me say, "Oooooh." And, well shit, that's the most important thing if nothing else.He's just a couple of years younger, so nothing too drastic. He's a tradesman and has been in his line of work for at least 8 years. We met because he was doing some work for me. Now being the nosey sort that I am, I was present while the work was being done. I also contributed my two cents while he was working. He's very personable, so we took to each other and did a little lightweight flirting. As the day wore on, he continued working, our flirting grew outright. As I am who I am and the way I am, I thought nothing of it. When around someone I find attractive, I seem to be in a constant state of harmless flirt.
As work was concluding, we'd gotten past the formalities and become comfortable flirting...I still gave it no thought. He'd leave and that would be that. Instead, he gave me his number. I returned mine.We talk on the phone sometime.
BFD.HEAVY PETTING
Turns out he has to return to tweak something. He does. After he's done, he asks to stay to talk. He does; we talk. We've got fire jumping from one and other. It's palpable and it's lighthearted and fun. I let him touch me (just my hand and arm) and he knows how to modulate his touch: very sensual, non offensive. That's an art. It's inviting. It's arousing.I touch him and I see his dick rise through his trousers. He covers it modestly and discreetly {points for that}. I'm hot and bothered, but I can disguise that more than he can. We continue talking.
I want him...I want to at least kiss him, so I put myself closer to him. The conversation turns only slightly sexual and we use innuendo {more points: I love a bit of sex talk, but I've got to be feelin' you first, otherwise I'm turned off!}Given his position now, he has the opportunity to kiss my neck...and he does, ever so softly and gently. The kinda thing that makes my pussy spasm and flush with warmth.
So I had to turn to kiss him. That was some of the best kissing I've had in a while. Urgent, but sensual. Can I use the word 'succulent' in regard to kissing?? 'Cause it was. HOT! SEX!! on a PLATTER!!I wanted to fuck him. I was trying to be restrained though. You know, New Year and all!!He took off my bra and gave his complete attention to my nipples. My gawd! So to divert his attention, I began, in earnest, to carress his dick. I sprang it loose from his straining boxers and trousers and into my hand. He's not enormous, but enough to work with.
Between my breasts I placed him and began to 'titty-fuck' him. He almost lost his mind.
So he pulled me back up to kiss him. He worked his way into my sweat pants and pants to my wetness. He dipped a finger, then two, into me and curved them. It was all I could do not to become a blithering idiot with my orgasm. The insistent, yet gently firm probing fingers, his mouth on my neck and breath next to my ear and his other hand on my back holding me to him...I wanted to make him come. I wriggled away from him and down to his dick agan. I watched his face when I took it in my mouth. His eyes widened with delightful surprise and that look of lust that had been in his eyes all evening grew brighter than I'd seen previously. I know what I'm doing with a dick, so it didn't take long before he began to gasp and tense.
I love to hear a man say he's going to cum...and he did cum all over my hands, his pants, a little in my hair.
Realizing what time it was, how long he'd been here and that we both had to work in the morning (and we'd both likely sleep very well), I bid him adeiu...with promises of calls and to do it again.
We did do it again. Some it it...today; this morning. Still didn't fuck him though: the bitch with the red suitcase is visiting. And that was okay. Hell, I'm having fun just "making out" like in the good old days. And it builds anticipation like nothing else.
It's not that nothing's been happening but simply that I haven't wanted to put it out there like that. I realize that while my face is out here, (my tits as well), and that this is a completely public site (though many would be hard pressed to state, "Hey! Didn't I see you on ***** ****** ******" in mixed company), I won't make my entire life public.
However, there are, of course, those juicy little tidbits which can be mentioned without great recourse. This may be one of those times. Maybe, because I don't know where this little rendevous is going. Maybe, because I'm not really taking it seriously. Maybe, because I have never actually entertained, let alone gotten physical with, someone younger than myself. Maybe, for some other factors.Right now, though, we'll go as far as it goes, even if tomorrow is the last time.
There's nothing too racy or out there (yet)...just a little something that's making me say, "Oooooh." And, well shit, that's the most important thing if nothing else.He's just a couple of years younger, so nothing too drastic. He's a tradesman and has been in his line of work for at least 8 years. We met because he was doing some work for me. Now being the nosey sort that I am, I was present while the work was being done. I also contributed my two cents while he was working. He's very personable, so we took to each other and did a little lightweight flirting. As the day wore on, he continued working, our flirting grew outright. As I am who I am and the way I am, I thought nothing of it. When around someone I find attractive, I seem to be in a constant state of harmless flirt.
As work was concluding, we'd gotten past the formalities and become comfortable flirting...I still gave it no thought. He'd leave and that would be that. Instead, he gave me his number. I returned mine.We talk on the phone sometime.
BFD.HEAVY PETTING
Turns out he has to return to tweak something. He does. After he's done, he asks to stay to talk. He does; we talk. We've got fire jumping from one and other. It's palpable and it's lighthearted and fun. I let him touch me (just my hand and arm) and he knows how to modulate his touch: very sensual, non offensive. That's an art. It's inviting. It's arousing.I touch him and I see his dick rise through his trousers. He covers it modestly and discreetly {points for that}. I'm hot and bothered, but I can disguise that more than he can. We continue talking.
I want him...I want to at least kiss him, so I put myself closer to him. The conversation turns only slightly sexual and we use innuendo {more points: I love a bit of sex talk, but I've got to be feelin' you first, otherwise I'm turned off!}Given his position now, he has the opportunity to kiss my neck...and he does, ever so softly and gently. The kinda thing that makes my pussy spasm and flush with warmth.
So I had to turn to kiss him. That was some of the best kissing I've had in a while. Urgent, but sensual. Can I use the word 'succulent' in regard to kissing?? 'Cause it was. HOT! SEX!! on a PLATTER!!I wanted to fuck him. I was trying to be restrained though. You know, New Year and all!!He took off my bra and gave his complete attention to my nipples. My gawd! So to divert his attention, I began, in earnest, to carress his dick. I sprang it loose from his straining boxers and trousers and into my hand. He's not enormous, but enough to work with.
Between my breasts I placed him and began to 'titty-fuck' him. He almost lost his mind.
So he pulled me back up to kiss him. He worked his way into my sweat pants and pants to my wetness. He dipped a finger, then two, into me and curved them. It was all I could do not to become a blithering idiot with my orgasm. The insistent, yet gently firm probing fingers, his mouth on my neck and breath next to my ear and his other hand on my back holding me to him...I wanted to make him come. I wriggled away from him and down to his dick agan. I watched his face when I took it in my mouth. His eyes widened with delightful surprise and that look of lust that had been in his eyes all evening grew brighter than I'd seen previously. I know what I'm doing with a dick, so it didn't take long before he began to gasp and tense.
I love to hear a man say he's going to cum...and he did cum all over my hands, his pants, a little in my hair.
Realizing what time it was, how long he'd been here and that we both had to work in the morning (and we'd both likely sleep very well), I bid him adeiu...with promises of calls and to do it again.
We did do it again. Some it it...today; this morning. Still didn't fuck him though: the bitch with the red suitcase is visiting. And that was okay. Hell, I'm having fun just "making out" like in the good old days. And it builds anticipation like nothing else.
Those Random Snippets Again...
Nov 27, 2006 10:29 pmMood: cynical, 73 Views
oh gawd, he could get FUCKED!!
i can't put a finger on what it is...but damn!!! Out of state, be damned. Don't let me make my way there, or vice versa. All bets are off and I'm on it!!Is this what it feels like to have a grown crush?
I was tired, but I needed that rest. Don't ya know, don't ya know: why is it when you want to, need to just SLEEP, everybody and anybody is calling?
Him, HIM, him, too! It's nice to be remembered, but I had a date with a pillow.
He allows me to treat him so poorly. I think that's why I continue to mess with him. Either he's a glutton for punishment, or he doesn't think about it. But he must, because he's asked me why. I was honest. He said he'll let me dictate contact. I didn't want contact, so I didn't reinitiate it after the call.
That's not rude...that's exactly what we said.
I'm friendly. I need a guy buddy. Not necessarily one to fuck either. I've got that. Won't rule it out, but don't count on getting near the cookies: it might not happen. I need a buddy to hit the movies with, see some shows, concerts...chill stuff. We can fuck other people, and just come together to do the friend and hangout things.
Maybe, if the chemistry's right, we could lay on each other. No strings, no guarantees or promises about the future.I'm busy and I might not always want to see you.But if you can make me smile incessantly, laugh, and be comfortable, you're mint like flint.
If this is you, apply within.
An Ode to the THIGHS
(moving my blogs from another site)
Nov 19, 2006 12:18 pmMood: excited, 82 Views
I have a lust for men. I have a similar attraction for women. I think that's just an admiration, though. I've never taken it there with a woman.
Yet? Even if I did, might, could, my overwhelming draw is and will always be to men.
Why? Everything. Their scent: the natural scent that you smell even through all the cologne. Their voices: I'm a sucker for a deep voice and I get all worked up over the natural bass in a man's voice.
Their bodies: they were made to fit me.
This leads me to the thighs. I generally like a certain build of guy, though I have dated all kinds from short and "petite" to tall and skinny or tall and fat. The overriding trend is that most of them had a "football players" body. At least that's what it's described as by those folks who are supposed to be authorities on categorizing everything.
I like a man who's broad shouldered, broad chest which still tapers into narrower but squarish hips. This leads me to the thighs. Usually men with this build tend to have thick, muscular thighs.
It doesn't matter to me whether the muscles are ripped like a body builder or just there, under the surface, providing that strong, powerful understructure. I love the feel of the hamstrings under my fingertips when I am gripping the back of his thighs when he's in my mouth. The power that the thighs generate when he's coming at me, entering me in whatever position, be it just him bracing himself or actively fucking me.
Let's not forget the look of a pair of strong, muscular thighs striding across a room: the way they frame the package. The way the suppleness can contrast with his hard-on when he's ready for me. I could even go so far as the mention the tingle I get when watching a nice pair of thighs shower: the way the water glides over the skin, drops clinging to the light covering of hair now slicked down by the water.
The thighs...second only to a charming, bright smile. But I can't grip a smile can I?
Nov 19, 2006 12:18 pmMood: excited, 82 Views
I have a lust for men. I have a similar attraction for women. I think that's just an admiration, though. I've never taken it there with a woman.
Yet? Even if I did, might, could, my overwhelming draw is and will always be to men.
Why? Everything. Their scent: the natural scent that you smell even through all the cologne. Their voices: I'm a sucker for a deep voice and I get all worked up over the natural bass in a man's voice.
Their bodies: they were made to fit me.
This leads me to the thighs. I generally like a certain build of guy, though I have dated all kinds from short and "petite" to tall and skinny or tall and fat. The overriding trend is that most of them had a "football players" body. At least that's what it's described as by those folks who are supposed to be authorities on categorizing everything.
I like a man who's broad shouldered, broad chest which still tapers into narrower but squarish hips. This leads me to the thighs. Usually men with this build tend to have thick, muscular thighs.
It doesn't matter to me whether the muscles are ripped like a body builder or just there, under the surface, providing that strong, powerful understructure. I love the feel of the hamstrings under my fingertips when I am gripping the back of his thighs when he's in my mouth. The power that the thighs generate when he's coming at me, entering me in whatever position, be it just him bracing himself or actively fucking me.
Let's not forget the look of a pair of strong, muscular thighs striding across a room: the way they frame the package. The way the suppleness can contrast with his hard-on when he's ready for me. I could even go so far as the mention the tingle I get when watching a nice pair of thighs shower: the way the water glides over the skin, drops clinging to the light covering of hair now slicked down by the water.
The thighs...second only to a charming, bright smile. But I can't grip a smile can I?
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