This is in really rough form – based on a dream I had the other night.She walked along the beach, the foamy surf tickling her toes. Her favorite white sarong was wet and nearly transparent, but it stayed wrapped snugly around her waist. She didn’t come here often, but she was well-loved by the people here, especially the men. The statue they had erected in her honor was a pretty good likeness – except they got the sarong and her feet all wrong, making them look a bit like a fish’s tail.The sky was beginning to turn golden when a few of the sea men found her. One, a captain, offered her pearls. She pushed them away. ” You offer me my own tears for your joy?” A sweet, peach-fuzzed boy offered her a few trinkets of beach glass and abalone. She gave him a kiss on his cheek and kept one, telling him to give the others to his sweetheart. Then another captain came over to her. He was still young, but his skin was weathered from years in the sun, in the sea, and he smelled of the ocean.”Goddess,” he started… She looked him over, walking all the way around him. “I’ve been saving the best of my treasures for years for you… Ever since I’ve heard of you, I’ve -” Her eyes softened a bit. He held up a bag. “Gold….”"Gold?” Her eyes lit up.”Yes, and jewels” Jewels she couldn’t get in the ocean. “Not pearls.”Her kisses were wet and cool, and he led her to his ship. She knew which one it was, of course. A man’s ship is as unique to him as his style of clothing, or his smile. He unwrapped her sarong and drew her to him. Her skin was soft against his, flawless and glowing. She was an enthusiastic lover, pulling him down into her kisses until he had to come up for air. Her nails had scratched deeply into his back, stinging and bleeding. In turn, he was no gentle soul, either. As he pounded into her, he managed to gasp out “My offerings… Do… you accept .. my offerings?”"Yes.. oh yes… ” she replied… “You will never die at sea… never… at .. sea.. I will… always… embrace.. you… never.. at sea..”
Yeah. It’s been awhile. *shrug* So what. I haven’t been inspired. However, tonight is different. Tonight I’m scenting sex in the air… and if you’re lucky, I’ll crack out those PVC lace up boots, the mini skirt and corset, and show you what I’m talking about. If you’re REALLY lucky, I won’t flick my cigarette at you to get your attention. Tell me you’ve missed me, baby. SHOW ME how much. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll come back and start writing again.
The back garden needed some work. It was, as she called it, a “primeval forest”. It wasn’t that big, but it more or less filled the area a garage would have been built. The way our shed, our neighbor’s shed, and a couple of well-placed trees kept it shady, so the work wasn’t too hot.
At one point I looked up. Clouds had filled the sky, and the foliage was taking on that “green” look that means rain is on the way. She wanted to get it done, so we hunkered down and tried to finish the weeding.
The first few drops were cold, but after crawling around in the warm dirt, they were welcome. Soon it began to rain in earnest, soaking my tshirt and hers, our hair dripping, skin slick. I was ready to quit and go inside. We’d gotten enough done for one day, and I was going to need to dry off.
*SPLAT* I didn’t expect the mudball. It splattered all over my arm and back. She was grinning at me and didn’t manage to dodge when I threw one back. She pounced on me and we began rolling around in the mud like a couple of, well, female mud wrestlers. As I said before, her shirt was soaked. Oh yeah. It was truly a sight to behold. She held me down and kissed me, slid her hand up my back and snapped my bra. I rolled her over and smeared mud all over her tummy. We played around for a while, and then it started getting a bit steamy… She grabbed at my shirt and it finally gave – I just laughed. It was pretty beat-up anyway. It tore all the way up the middle. Hers wasn’t much stronger. Slipping around, sliding in the mud, rain pouring down — she chased me inside, up the stairs and into the shower…
The steam from the shower filled the room before we finally got out of there, freshly scrubbed and grinning like a pair of cheshire cats.
Within the first week of living there, my life had slipped to some kind of cross between Alice in Wonderland and Mad Max. There was a party planned that weekend. I hadn’t even finished moving my stuff into my room. The guys talked me into running the tap, since they were playing the part of “security”. I think over the course of the night we’d had over five hundred people through.It was a busy place.I bought a lock for my door soon after. Wore the key around my neck during parties. Funny how the guys, when they got drunk, would hit on me because I was there. I wasn’t even really looking for the attention, but they were sure willing to give it. I’m fairly sure I had an audience once in a while when I took my showers. The summer was crazy – we had parties often, and when we didn’t, we’d wind up at Golden Gardens – one of the few parks in the city that allowed bonfires. They started prepping for Burning Man, and talked me into going. That’s a story for another time — but I’ll just say good times were had by all. We came back, and somewhere in there one roomie moved out and another moved in. She was pretty. Really pretty. and she liked girls. We shared a wall, and like the roomie above me, I could hear when she had company over. The soft sighs and giggles kept me awake far more than than the thuds and grunts I could hear coming from other parts of the place.
There were a lot of us living in that place – I think at one point there were eight of us, but the various roomies moved in and out at such a pace I never even learned the full names of some of them. I’m not sure it was even zoned to be a live/art space. The story goes that back in the 80s, a bunch of artists rented it, and just sort of built rooms using leftovers from the sign shop next door. There was a band practice space in the basement, and one of the roomies claimed that Nirvana used to practice there, before they got big.
I’d answered an ad in The Stranger for a new place to live, and hopefully to paint. The place I had been living in was starting to get to me – a screaming schizo on the left side, at the end of the hall, couldn’t afford medication. There was a couple downstairs who listened to their “oonch oonch” music til three in the morning. For a while some guy had thin, scantily-clad women showing up at all hours.
I showed up in my work outfit – a pair of dockers and a button-down shirt. Nothing that would stand out. The afternoon was bright. Took me a while to find the place – it was just a door along a strip of storefronts. A bar was next door. I knocked, and after a couple of minutes I heard someone.
He opened the door. The interior was dark, so I didn’t get a good look at him until I stepped inside. He stuck out his hand, so I shook it. He had a bottle in a paper bag in his other hand. I noticed tattoos running from his hands, up his arms, through the stained wife-beater he was wearing, and down the other side. He turned around to lead me through the dark hallway to the living room, and I saw a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
He showed me around the place, quickly, as if expecting me to break and run at any moment. He pointed out which room was open, and then we sat down to talk. His was the room directly above that one. He asked what kind of art I did, where I went to school, things like that. A couple of the other people who lived there walked through and introduced themselves. A beer was offered and accepted, followed by a cigarette. We talked some more. We discovered we had a friend in common, from my college years. That seemed to satisfy him – “Anyone who’s able to keep up with him is good enough to live here!”
Despite my conservative dress, I got the room. I moved in just a week or so later.
…
I built a loft in my room, just big enough for my queen-sized futon mattress and high enough to put my dresser underneath. The loft lifted me up high enough to the ceiling that I could hear what happened in the room above. I could hear him snore. I could hear him pacing at night when he couldn’t sleep. I could hear him when he had a girl over, and I could hear him when he didn’t…
Ok, I wrote not that long ago that I felt like a “trophy”. That we’d had some wonderful girly-girl sex, and all was well with the world.
Here’s the thing: Girly-girl sex is hard to do simultaneously, despite what you see in the movies. Inevitably, someone gets over-excited and stops doing what she was doing to the other girl, to concentrate on her own waves of glorious, mind-blowing, everlasting glee.
and then falls asleep, with vague half-muttered promises of “I’ll get you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow never comes. Neither do I.
I might have to start tracking her excuses – because looking at it from that direction, it actually is starting to be pretty funny – or pretty pathetic… I’ll try to keep a humorous eye on things.
I think the night after, she was “too tired”. Fair enough, we’d both done a lot of work that day.
Then, she accidentally took too much of her medication. A simple double-dose, when she had forgotten she’d already taken her daily dose. Not a problem – she was fine, we didn’t have to go to the hospital –*but* — she got out of having nookie, too.
A couple more days of “too tired” and simply “going to bed too late”.. Tonight she was “feeling fragile” and went to bed early.
Good grief, woman! I asked her if she was interested WHEN SHE GOT HOME! It’s not like I’m springing this on her at 2am.
For anyone keeping track, I have a bet going with a male friend of mine. A *gay* male friend of mine, who sympathisizes with my plight. He’s said if I don’t get good and done before July (which would make it a year. A YEAR, people, and I AM in a relationship, too.) he’ll have sex with me.
(shhh, we aren’t telling him about the “doing” I got in Feb. It was ok, but like Eldritch says, I want more. I want the long, loving foreplay, the desire in her eyes, the cuddling, and perhaps – just perhaps – have her not watching _Family Guy_ over my shoulder)
oh well.
ok, since you asked:
1 . Would you consider having sex with any of your friends?
Yes. I’d have sex with many, if not most, of my friends…under the right circumstances.
2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night?-
I prefer night, but I wouldn’t say “no” to sex just about any time of the day. I like being able to just relax and fall asleep afterwards – something I don’t get to do during the morning or afternoons.
3. What side of the bed do you sleep on?
I prefer the right side of the bed. (too)
4. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money?
Yes.
5. Have you ever had sex in the shower or the bath?
Yes, but in the shower it’s really more foreplay than sex. Such a small area isn’t really conducive to the kind of sex I like.
6. Do you watch/read pornography?
I don’t watch it much, but I do like Anais Nin, and Anne Rice’s Beauty series, and a few plain ol’ sleazy bodice-rippers.
7.Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?
That depends on the day (or night, as it were).
8. Do you love someone on your blogroll?
I don’t have a blogroll.
9. Would you choose love or money?
I’d choose love.
10. Your top three favorite kinks in bed?
There are so many to choose from… I love foreplay that starts early in the day with a dirty little email or IM or phone call, then later on continues with snuggling and messing around on the couch, until we can’t stand in anymore and make a mad dash for the bedroom.. I don’t think that’s really a kink, but I do love it.
A little bit of silk scarf bondage can be fun, as long as everyone’s clear on the safe word.
Then a little bit of the blindfold and being fed sensual foods is great…
11. Has anyone ever gone beyond your personal line of respect sexually?
Yes, but I’d rather not discuss it.
12. Where is the most romantic place you have had sex?
Iwon’t tell you that, but I’ll tell you the most romantic place I *didn’t* have sex…I was hiking around Europe with a friend after graduation. Towards the end of the trip, we found ourselves in Tintagel, England. It’s a small town, with just a little bit of tourism (King Arthur was born there!) . We hiked along a ridge that looked out over the water, over the ocean. The sun was beginning to set, and we sat down to watch it. I’d taken some great photos that day. I mentioned to him what a beautiful place this was, and what a shame that we weren’t with a romantic partner. Then he unexpectedly grabbed me, and leaned me back onto the grass. He held me close and softly kissed me. I was shocked! Then he sat back up and said something to the effect of “That’s all you’re getting, hope you enjoyed it.”
13. Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?
In a confessional, in a Catholic church around midnight…with someone who was going off to become a priest at the end of summer.
14. Have you ever been caught having sex?
Yes.
15. Ever been to a bar just to get sex?
Yes. I have to go somewhere when I’m single, don’t I? Given that’s where my friends congregate, and they can always introduce me to someone…
16. Ever been picked up in a bar?
Oh hell yeah. My current sweetie “picked me up” (met me, was introduced, etc) in a bar.
17. Have you ever kissed or had sex with someone of the same sex?
Yes. I go every which way.
18. Had sex in a movie theater?
No. I haven’t found one that is both private enough and clean enough to do this. Unless you count drive-ins… There was one time at a horrible drive-in…
20. Had sex in a bathroom?
Yes. See above, under “shower, bath”.
21. Have you ever had sex at work?
I guess you’d have to define “sex”. Then again, if something has to be defined…
22. Bought something from an adult store?
Yes. I’ve bought everything from lingerie to sex toys, lube, ben-wa balls, all kinds of things. (except porn)
23. Do you own any sex toys?
Yes. I have a few – but I could certainly use more. A couple of them are getting worn out!
24. Does anyone have naughty pics of you or are you on film?
Assuredly. I’m honestly surprised I haven’t found any of myself out there – but I haven’t looked that hard.
25. Have you ever had sex with someone and called them the wrong name?
Not that I can remember…. but it’s probably happened.
26. Do you think oral sex constitutes as a form of intercourse?
Sure. I think anything that climaxes with someone having an orgasm (or faking one) should be considered “sex”, if not technically “intercourse”.
27. What’s your favorite sexual position?
Anything that involves another person.
28. What’s your favorite sex act?
Lately I’ve been pretty fond of mutual masturbation.
29. Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time?
Yes. Seems to be overrated.
I woke up today to the sounds of a happy girlfriend busily working on some “honey-dos”, making a lot of racket, and the pup barking up a storm.
Why was she so happy? Could it be linked to why she’s walking a bit bow-legged today? Ohhh, yes, I pounded her last night harder than she’s been pounded in a good long while. Oooh, yes, my wrist and lower arm are a little sore, so I can only imagine how she’s feeling.
We went out last night. I asked her to wear a garter belt and stockings, since I think those are so incredibly sexy. She obliged and even wore a short dress to show them off. Damn, that girl has fine legs. I’ve never really thought of myself as a leg woman, but she’s got the legs, the butt, the boobs, the whole nine yards –and of course, my weakness, the eyes.
(and a lovely, delightful, sweet personality, and a mind-boggling intellect, in case she reads this)
Only one of our friends joined us for drinks, and he decided it was time to toddle home around 2. She came off the dance floor and sat down in my lap and started running her hands down my back and arms and nibbling my ear, and asked if I wanted to go home –I’d have to drive –or wait around until she sobered up enough to drive.
She didn’t have to ask twice. We got home and I very nearly pounced on her on the couch, but she pushed me off and had me feed the fuzzies. She ran upstairs while I did that, and I joined her just a minute later. A little bit of cuddling turned into a lot of kissing, and soon she was pulling on gloves over her long nails and I was trying not to rip her panties off.
I guess a couple drinks did her good – not long after that, she was arching into my hand, grinding, moaning, clutching at the sheets and writhing around… and she never really gets vocal, never really grinds and moves around like that. Just watching her was getting me hot, and I grabbed her hand and put it down between my legs. She was a little too distracted to do much down there, but I took care of business myself – all she had to do was hold her hand there and I wriggled against it.
I asked her if she wanted me to get a toy, but she was already too far gone to care about that. It seemed to go on and on, and I could feel her squeezing my fingers tighter and tighter then relaxing, then squeezing again, over and over. One last, long moan and she lay back, eyes closed, blissful smile. I scampered off to wash up. I came back, and she was nearly asleep. I had to pull the gloves off her hands for her.
Ok, I have no idea how I got another cold. It’s not like I was out kissing everyone within arms’ reach again. My sweetie is being a mother-hen, making sure I recover. She gave me some cold medicine last night, and for the first night in a few days I got a good night’s sleep.I had more sex dreams. I dreamt that she wanted us to become polyamorous, and encouraged me to find a male lover – she was going to do the same. I looked up an ex (who conveniently had moved to this city, in the dream) and he admitted he had missed me. Then – let the wokka wokka music begin – we did the nasty.Woke up from that before it finished, sadly, fell back asleep, and had another dream. I was performing in a play, doing a dance number. It was at my elementary school, as a sort of fundraiser or something. I had forgotten a prop and was going to run home to get it, when the ex from the first dream showed up and said he’d go get it.weird, all the way around.
Oh MY! I have been having just the naughtiest dreams lately – night after night of soaking wet-hot dreams, the kind that leave me disappointed when I wake up and find that I’m not really —doing whatever I’m doing, with whomever I’m with. (With the exceptions of the recurring “loosing my teeth and jaw” nightmares, and the “taking care of tiny baby animals” dreams) Don’t worry, I have been known to keep a dream journal, and soon I’ll mash some together and post it. It will be spectacular.