My nipples are still so freakin painful that it hurts when the water hits them in the shower.

Should I send a thank you card?

I want anyone and EVERYONE who reads this to post in here something they would like to do with me someday.
Then post this in your journal to find out what people want to do with you.

Thank you joedecker

First: a poll…

Me:”If anything were to happen here, would you want it to last a day, a week, or a month?”
Him:…. pause for thought… “A day.”

Well. ok. In theory I really don’t have a problem with casual sex. Heh. Ok, so in practice I don’t have a problem with casual sex. But how casual is too casual for me? To follow up on this situation is to agree to one day. How do I really feel about that? In some ways I’m ok with it, in other ways I’m having a bitch of a time wrapping my head around it. I’m not sure what part of it is so hard for me to process though. It isn’t as if I haven’t had one night stands. Ok, I haven’t had many, but I have done it. Usually though they are truly casual. Pick-ups in a public place that I won’t ever see them again. Someone with whom I have a brief courtship and then it disappears is an entirely new animal for me. If I were a manipulative little shit I could acknowledge that he is trying to get me into bed, that he only particularly wants it to happen once, and then make him wait for a while. That way I could control getting more attention in exchange for giving him his “cookie.”

That’s just not me though. I guess that if there is a clear, stated goal that I will accept it, either agree or disagree with it, and carry it to completion pretty much immidiately. Now I just have to decide if I am really ok with that as a stated goal. I have come to the conclusion that I really like FWB. I feel extremely comfortable with the paradigm. That way there is a connection of some sort, but it doesn’t have to be artificially romantic. I sleep with people because I like them, and it feels kind of harsh to say that I won’t deal with them after I get the one shag. I will, however, totally honor the request for no additional contact. Even if I want it. Even if I just want him for his ability to help educate my musical palate. 🙂

Lots of things have been going through my head lately. On many levels in many ways. I think I am probably going to hit a lot of “experimentation” stuff in the next segment of my life. I haven’t figured out yet how I’m going to handle a lot of it. I haven’t figured out if I’m going to follow through on some of the experimentation I’m pondering. I feel like I am all primed to take Dad up on his offer to chuck my life and run away to Portland to hide and lick my wounds. It wouldn’t be the Mature, Responsible thing to do though. And I’m all about being mature and responsible. Well, if and only if being mature and responsible includes lots of sex for me. Ok, I’m on a roll today already. Mr Hitachi, here I come… (Heh… come…)

If you can see this, I am not upset about you touching me.

I did get really annoyed at having to tell Joe Blow to stop touching me every 45 seconds for about 15 minutes though. (The advice on the DHP list that I just should have said, “No” is kind of funny. I do say no. I just get sick of saying it every 45 seconds.)

I got a little snippy and eventually started asking even people who can see this to stop touching me because I hit massive overload. But as far as any sort of general rule goes:

If you can see this, you have my permission to do pretty much any form of casual touching. 🙂 I love you! (Yeah, this is a tight filter.)

I was touched. I was held. I was told everything will be alright, I may even believe them.

I was going to have a nice calm sort of date. Sure, of course there would be sex involved. Then a conversation about how I was sad that I had not had the threesome that was planned for the weekend lead to…

A phone call. “You wanna?”
“Hell yeah!”
“Come over.”
“I will be there as soon as I can.”

I took a nap in the interem period. It is truly strange that waking up to sexual activity is one of the most rapid ways to turn me on. But then again, I really wasn’t worried about getting turned on. One boy who excels at my idea of the perfect fucking and another boy who has introduced me to the concept of… *gasp* foreplay. *fan face with hand* The two of them combined truly have to be the perfect shag. They massaged my legs and talked to me for a long while. I think most of the conversation was geared around making me blush. Why do so many people like seeing me blush? There was touching. There was stroking. Once in a while I worried that I wasn’t paying enough attention to both of them, so I verbally checked in. All was well. The sex was really really good. I have never before experienced some of the….combinations… of activities. mmmmm.

In the middle of this act, which I had looked forward to with glee and terror, I was frightened that I would feel like the dirty, horrible, bad whore that I was told I was when I was younger. I didn’t. I have connections with both of these people. They both feel a combination of love, respect, adoration, and appreciation for me. They are friends who were quite happy to combine efforts in my behalf. I was told over and over that I am loved. I was told over and over that I am beautiful. I was fucked hard and fast, I felt used and filled and wanted. I made love, slowly, gently, delicately; I felt appreciated and wanted. Both have their place. Although, I will confess that I am more interested in the slow lovemaking when I have had a good, hard fucking just before so that I am not frustrated with my desire to just come already!

The very best part (though I am not disparaging the sex, lord no) was being snuggled between them and listening to them talk over me. I was there, and part of the moment, but I wasn’t the center. They were enjoying their friendship and I was just incidental. But I was encased with acceptance and love anyway. Being involved, but not the focus, is wonderful for me.

I almost feel sated. It may take a bit more effort though. 🙂

Thank you. Thank you for everything.

Pulled from tshuma. (I’m not on my computer, so no links or tags cause I’m not slick enough to remember them manually.)

“Leave a comment with your name if you want to know what I really think of you, and I’ll reply and tell you. No lies, all honesty.

***

Note: Some of you I barely know, and I’ll say this. Some of you also know of any… reservations I have about some of the things you do, and I’m not going to rub it in your face in public.

Having said that, don’t ask if you’re not prepared for Brutal Honesty. I have some very good friends on LJ – and I have some people I just consider acquaintances. People in the latter category aren’t necessarily those I feel warm and fuzzy towards all the time. ”

I may leave these screened. I may not. Let me know if you would prefer me to do so.

Do not. I repeat: DO NOT tell me that my answer to a question isn’t complete when you haven’t done the reading and can’t contribute to the conversation.

Stupid fucking bitch.

I’m feeling a lot of things right now. I’m very confused. But, one part of it that sucks is the word drama. I really hate feeling dramatic and just in the process of dealing with my shit I feel like I’m being dramatic. So I’m trying like hell to stifle all the stuff going on in my head and I’m ending up feeling like shit. I want so much and there is so much I need. I don’t know how to go about getting any of it right now.

I’m not actually trying to cut sex out of my life and I’m very sorry it seems to be the impression people have. Ok, so I don’t feel that comfortable having sex inTom’s house. I have never felt very comfortable about sex in his space. It doesn’t mean that my libido went to sleep. I’ve been feeling guilty about the fact that my libido is still very much present though. I really don’t want to find a new partner right now because I’m worried about the emotional dynamics of getting involved with someone when I am so completely vulnerable, but my body is letting me know that YES I still really want sex. I’ve been doing stupid push/pull things with people I am already involved with though that seems to be cutting off what sources I have. [insert picture of me beating my head against a wall here.] The threesome I was supposed to have this weekend didn’t happen. By the end of the night I felt really shitty because it didn’t. I found out that one of the people involved thought I wasn’t in the mood, so no one asked. Uhm, thanks for your concern I guess. I’ll just go sit in the rejected corner. *sigh* Although the girl under the sheet helped with the feeling rejected bit. Hell, even writing this feels like I’m being passive aggressive because more than one person I sleep with will read it, but that isn’t the point. I’m just sad. I’m frustrated. I’m really feeling like I’m not doing anything right at this point.

I know that part of what is hurting so bad is that I have been shutting down emotional connections. I am trying really hard to create more space between Tom and I and it is ripping me to pieces. I love him so much, and I have loved him so long that I feel like I’m ripping out pieces of myself. Yeah, as it has been stated elsewhere- moving out before January might be a smarter idea. Staying here is going to kill me. I’ve created more space between myself and Noah as well because I’ve been very worried/conscious of leaning too heavily on him in a way that might interfere with other things in his life. So I find myself missing not only my primary, but my secondary as well. I really feel like a dumb girl.

Tom and I have started having a conversation about Daddy. I don’t know if that part of the relationship is going to go away as well or what. I just know that I’m feeling very lonely right now. I want comforting and I don’t know who/how to ask for it. Hell, hey Rachel? Want someone to sleep over?

In the pit of my stomach is this big knot of fear. I know that is most of what it is. I’m afraid. I can’t fully articulate what it is that I’m afraid of. I’m having very mixed feelings about so much of myself. I worry that I am poised to change big chunks of myself out of fear rather than a desire to really change them. Will I ever find the kind of relationship I want (settled, have kids) if I am such a slut? You know, sex parties really might be a bad hunting ground. Parties centering around poly networking may not be the best hunting ground. Yet, that is where most of my attention seems to be these days. Well, sort of. Then there are dance people. But I’m slightly more reserved at dance events. It takes a while before I tell individuals what I do with my extra time. I don’t want to be seen as too out there. The people who know, know. But I am trying to not let things be completely open. I’m not sure if it is working. *sigh*

I want to be fucked. I want to be held. I want to believe everything is going to be alright.
Wow, 0 out of 3. This sucks.

Last night a gorgeous man leaned over and smelled my hair and asked me if I smell like vanilla. I told him sometimes. So of course this means that when I woke up early this morning… out comes the vanilla lotion. Ok, so it won’t be period for the ren faire today. I’m ok with that.

It was a weird sort of flirtation. I tried to pick him up at St. Stephens Green several months ago and he just wasn’t interested. I guess he doesn’t appreciate me when I’m flighty and flakey and airheaded at dance events. Is it possible to be grounded while doing Irish dancing?! After we talked for a few hours he suddenly announced, “You’re not crazy.” I said nope. Then he said, “You don’t want me to rescue you.” I snickered and told him no. My shit is my shit, let me have it. So he said, “This could be something.” Why does a few hours of flirting have to turn into “something?” I don’t understand. I told him that it very probably wouldn’t turn into something because I’m very fresh out of a really good, long-term relationship and no one can replace my partner in my life. It is going to be a while before I am ready for “something.”

That being said, he is bloody gorgeous. The kind I look at and drool. Of course it turns out he is an engineer. And very toppy. And into suspension. And other forms of bondage. He’s geek chic. 😀 Although there are things that make me less interested. Like him offering me a ride and saying, “Too bad I don’t shag on the first date.” I said, “What makes you think I do?” “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” Hm. uhm. Well. Not enough to write him off yet, but enough for me to be waiting for his next inappropriate thing.

Or maybe he is the asshole of my dreams who is inconsiderate and mean and will treat me badly and I will be like every other woman in my family and follow him to the ends of the earth. *sigh* *beat head against wall* Really. I want to believe I’m not that stupid, but sometimes I wonder…

Upbeat: I got a ride to and from the pool party with a very hot guy who is sane, fun, toppy, and cute. Yeah! I’m so happy I got to enjoy his company on the way home. Must get to know hot boy more. 🙂 I’m surrounded by hot guys! Wow. This doesn’t suck.

Homework for Monday:
done
Homework for Tuesday:
Almost done.

Go me.

It is too damn hot. *whine*

I’m sitting here nekkid.

hmmmm. hey… Mr. Hitachi? How are You doin?

I woke up this morning at 6:30. I went to bed at 10. That means I got more than 8 hours of good sleep. (Yay Vicodin!) I didn’t have to be up until 7:30/7:45ish. What did I do? Come on people… guess…. Did I roll over like a normal person and try to get an extra hour of sleep because I haven’t slept much in a few weeks? No! I jumped out of bed feeling plucky and well-rested and energetic. I started laundry. I finished cleaning up my bedroom. I cleaned the kitchen. I put the finishing touches on my bathroom. I did some paper work. My house is finally clean! I am so proud of me!!! These last few bits have been dragging on forever and I have been feeling really shitty about it. I can’t stand living in a mess. It makes me feel frazzled and discontent. Although, anyone who comes over to my house on any sort of regular basis laughs at me about my idea of living in a mess. I am a pretty serious neat-freak. For me a mess is cleaner than many people ever get their house. heh. Doesn’t matter. We all make our own standards.

Now, my house is really spic and span. I am dressed and ready to go for the day. My cat is fed and watered. Laundry is mid-process. I have another 20 minutes until I need to leave the house. Hey! Maybe I can send some of the emails I’ve been putting off!

*bounce*

*bounce*

It is amazing how everything in life can look better after getting some sleep. I’ve been really horribly depressed and just not functioning for a while. Today, I feel like my life is ok. So things are going to be weird and funky for a while. I’m ok with that. I can cope. I will survive and not only survive, but thrive. I will always be ok. I’m strong and capable and I am more loved than any person has a right to be. Thank you God.

Oh baby oh baby. Earlier today I got my ass beat. Quite a bit. Quite well. Now I’m feeling all mellow and happy and giggly and very very horny. I consider this a nice change.

I don’t handle stress very well. It is a major problem I have. When I get more and more upset I turn it inward and I start beating myself up about things. Even when the stress is entirely external and has nothing to do with me. Noah pointed out that part of my downward cycles involves me feeling like I am inadequate in some way. I guess I never realized how much that figures in. This particular downward cycle started with Noah’s accident. I got very anxious when it happened, and even after the crisis was over I didn’t manage to come down. Then I found out I was flunking Spanish. I have never flunked a class before and I really came down hard on myself even though I wouldn’t change how I reacted to the situation. Even though I was doing something that I felt was right for me and for the situation… I still failed. So I beat myself up about it. Then kind of snowballing being at Noah’s all the time and falling behind on things that needed to get done at home (I feel like I’m failing if I’m not perfect at everything at all times). Then the break-up. Then a series of well-meaning rather vanilla sexual encounters…

Frustration. Lots of frustration. Vanilla sex is nice and all, but I usually finish up feeling like I didn’t quite… get… something. I can’t put my foot on it. It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy it. It isn’t that I didn’t have orgasms. I just somehow feel like a piece is missing. So here I have a month straight of massive anxiety without relief. Last night I hit a bad place. My lower back, where I store a large majority of my stress, completely decided it has had enough. Spasms. Agony. Crying in a fetal position. I really hate it when my back decides to do that. My stomach has hurt for the past week to the degree that I would like to get punched really hard in the stomach just as a distraction. I’m eating sugar like crazy despite the fact that I don’t generally care for sugar much because it feels like the only thing that helps handle the horrible stomach ache. Noah tried working on my back, but he is considerably limited right now. He did help some. Taking a vicodin and going to bed helped some. Getting fucked hard in the middle of the night helped. However, what helped the most was talking to a really great sadist and asking him if he would be willing to hurt me. He was! He had time available! Wow. A date for a beating within 24 hours. That rocks pretty hard. Previous history has taught me that getting the crap beat out of me will help neutralize a lot of my anxiety.

So I went over this afternoon (in between doing way too many other things. I need a break.) and he paddled me and caned me for a while. Not that severe of a beating, it is the first time we have played together… but certainly enough. I’m feeling much more relaxed and I’m in a better mood. Not all of my anxiety is gone, but I’m ok with where I am right now. I’m no longer feeling panicky and anxious and like I’m going to break into a million pieces. I don’t want to cut right now. That is a big deal. I have been wanting to cut pretty much constantly for the last month. I don’t think I have had 5 minutes go by in which I haven’t thought about cutting. I don’t want to right now. Right now I want a serious massage and a glass of wine. Ok, and a lot more fucking. Really hard fucking. I want some D/s energy. (There was no D/s involved in this beating, lamentably, and I was sad at the absence.) That would make my day complete. But it isn’t going to happen. I’ll see what I can do about soliciting back rubs tonight though. It is the best I can do right now, and really nothing to complain about.

I am so glad I know the people I know.

Did I mention I had a really really intense orgasm while he was caning me? Oh dear god. I come a lot. I come easily. But yeah… orgasms caused by pain… they are just better.

Ok, all the guys I know can stop telling me that it is my fault they are thinking about sex. It isn’t just my fault. Dude.

And no one else needs to call me or run into me and greet me with some version of, “You bitch,” or “Damn you,” or “Fuck you.”

Ok? Yeah. I’m really done with the greeting.

If you want to tell me you are thinking about me while you masturbate, yeah… that’s fine. Don’t greet me with a swear word though. I’m not reacting well to it.

Whoever is posting about wanting to hurt me…

I am so wet. I would love to continue the conversation.

“I read your quotes and I just wish I had said them.”

🙂 Yay.

I like DA. He wants me to talk about sex. He wants me to talk about sex in as graphic of terms as I am capable of. Of course this means that I spend a lot of time blushing and stammering and choking out the words I have so much trouble saying yet really want to hear. Those dirty words. I want you to fuck my cunt. Please put your cock in my mouth. Hurt me.

Why is group sex so much a topic of discussion these days? Freakin the last few people I have gotten involved with all want to talk about sharing me. What is up with this?! My karma is going somewhere really interesting. It must be time for me to get my reward for patiently initiating all those virgins. Now several really hot, experienced sorts of men want to pass me around. *swoon* I was asked today who I would prefer having in which hole. Oh my god did that lead to some really interesting thoughts and fantasies and… Who do I want in which hole? That lead to he and I exploring who liks my cunt the most. Who would I trust with my ass? Who would like to hold my head still as I am crying out my ecstasy with my ass and cunt filled and risk my teeth to fuck my throat? We came up with a freakin list of possible candidates. After we talked about it for a while I couldn’t decide who I wanted to do what. So he says I need to stop thinking in such a limited fashion and just invite the whole list and people can trade off who is doing what. I thought I was going to melt through the chair onto the floor. I’m not sure if I was just turned on or if I was freaked out. I’m certainly having trouble wrapping my mind around the prospect. Dude. uhm. uhm….

I just can’t name names here. I can’t. It would be totally crass for me to explicitly state what pictures I see in my head. Who I think would be patient enough to work their way into my ass. Who I think would most enjoy fucking my cunt and feeling the other cock inside me. Who would most enjoy fucking my throat. Although, I think I would be hard pressed to decide who would enjoy fucking my throat the most. I have strong suspicions of who would have the most patience with my poor, delicate ass. I am a little fuzzier on who would really like the feeling of another cock in my cunt. Could be several people. Hmmmm. However… the idea of who likes my mouth… well. There is no competition. Everyone. 🙂 I have yet to have anyone complain about my oral skills. I actually would like some pointers some time because I’m sure I could improve. I will refrain from asking for any takers on who would like to give me lessons. I’m pretty sure that would be tacky.

Would I actually be able to handle it? I don’t know. My hungry cunt tells me I really want to try. I have gotten soundly fucked several times in the past 24 hours and I want more. Good lord am I a greedy girl!

Fucked. Want to get fucked. Want to get fucked really hard. *wiggle*

I don’t know who did the posting on the anonymous stuff (well duh, gee George… that is kind of what anonymous means…) but I really appreciate it. I felt boistered over the weekend when I thought over the positive thoughts. Thank you.

I really want to know who wants me though. You say I have only slept with you once? That makes you one of a very very small number of people. Hmmmmmmmm.

What a weekend. And it is not totally over yet. I can’t stay off the net. It is like crack. I’m telling you. What a weekend. Oy. Much time for thinking and many things were done. I went through so many phases, I’m not sure I could recreate them all in text if I wanted to… even though I live my life composing in my head. Sometimes I wonder if I actually am a writer, despite a lifetime of saying I’m not a writer. Everything I see, experience, think about, I feel the need to try and figure out how I would communicate it in text. An odd thing.

The weekend started out with a phone call… my bondage class in Eureka is cancelled due to lack of tickets sold. Bloody hell. You’re kidding. I structured the whole damn weekend around that! Shise. Oh well… plans have been made and I am not going to cancel on people. I had yummy ice cream with a cute girl. I appreciated the words of comfort more than I can express. Then I started on my way to Davis. Why does it always take me four hours to get to Davis? And when in the hell am I going to learn to put on sun block?! Bloody hell my arm is crispy and it hurts. *waaaaa* Eventually I did get there though. The class went well and I think everyone was pleased and maybe even educated a wee bit. Hmmmm. Time will tell. Maybe next time I will have some idea of what the group hopes to learn and we can be more focused. I didn’t understand what I should be shooting for, so I just faked it a lot… heh. Oh wait. I’m not supposed to admit that girls fake it. Oh well. 🙂

I had a lovely evening with a girl and a boy in Davis after the class. I got in a very small amount of snuggling and watched a movie and passed out fairly early. As in passed out hard. Unconscious. There was no reaching me till morning. It was singularly divine. Great conversations were had in the morning and afternoon up until I left to drive to Sac for the family reunion.

First: I was a last minute, half-assed, add-on to the family reunion. My brother wanted me to go (I’m not sure why) but no one else in the family did. The cousin who answered the door couldn’t figure out who I was. I’m not surprised. She hasn’t seen me in more than 10 years. As soon as I saw her I remembered that I didn’t need to try and look ‘normal’ for the family. Katrina is a big freak. She is in her late 50’s now, she still dresses like a hoochie. Her hair is short and spikey and mostly black except for white stripes. Her eyes were rimmed with sparkly green and blue. I had to grin. Go her. I hope to god I have so much sass when I’m her age. I better not settle down. And long after. She isn’t that old yet. Anyway. Her two sons were mellow, fun, and very rad. I think they are my favorite extended family members. I may never speak to them again. Not for any bad reason, just because I probably won’t. They were nice people, but the sort of people that you just don’t seem to know if you aren’t related to them. Some of the other family members smiled at me from across the room and never really talked to me. They put two and two together on who I was and didn’t ever speak to me again. (Oh, this is the reunion for my father’s side of the family.) Over and over through the afternoon people kept commenting on how strong the family resemblence is looks-wise through people… and then they would look at me. The only thing that was said about my looks (although my brother and I do look a lot alike) was, “Oh, curly hair must come from your mothers side of the family.” Well. Wow. I feel all included now. Thanks ya’ll. I didn’t talk to people much and I left early. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been and it was better than I expected it to be. I wasn’t upset and I wasn’t bouncing off the walls happy. I made my brother happy and that was all I hoped to get. And I was off to drive to Eureka…

The drive was long and boring. Totally expected. No ticket! That is all that matters. I was chanting “I”m a good girl and I drive slow” for the better part of 300 miles. Oy. Snuggles and great fun was had upon arrival in Eureka. DA rocks. I just need to say that. He rocks a lot. It is really nice to arrive and have someone just overwhelm you with, “Wow! I like you!” *happy wiggle* We hung out a lot today. We watched a movie; we listened to music; I taught him to waltz. Generally we just hung out and enjoyed one anothers presense. Yay for mellow time. Now he is sleeping and I’m going through some of the myriad of thoughts in my brain. I may be posting a bunch tonight and I’m not slick enough to really know lj shortcuts by memory so no cuts. Muahahaha

“I love your smile, especially when my cock is in it.”