again…

for a boy in his mid-twenties, alex struggles with his stamina. from my perspective, it is refreshing.

he is sweet and honest, his pride doesn’t keep him from cuming. his sexual experience is negligible, which makes him free from fucked up baggage.

we kissed and rubbed until i couldn’t take much more – “you should fuck me.” i whispered.

he got up to grab a condom, i continued to writhe on the bed. he crouched next to me, near my head, and slowly slid the condom on his erection.

i watched with big eyes. big hungry eyes.

he pulled my knees apart and took my nipple in his mouth, rubbed my clit with two fingers. there he stayed, sucking and rubbing. my back arched, my jaw tightened, my breath moaned. “are you torturing me?” i asked after what seemed like an eternity.

“yes.” he whispered into my ear.

have i underestimated this dear man? have i overestimated his sweetness? is he more sexually deviant than he lets on? god, i hope so.

he still didn’t make a move. and i laid there squirming.

he finally pulled my hips to met his. sliding in and out of me with calculated strokes. i just wanted him to pound into me. i flipped over and had him take me from the back, he only lasted two strokes – but tried to continue. i need to tell him i can feel it when he loses his erection.

i stretched out on my stomach as he cleaned himself up. i turned my head towards him, pushing my dark curls out of the way. “we need to practice. everyday. twice a day.”

he smiled, “that sounds good to me.”

“let’s do it again.”

“give me a minute,” he said the way every man does.

so i did, i gave him a minute. then i stuck my ass out and rubbed it against him. relentlessly torturing his cock until it grew hard.

this time he was quicker with the condom and the penetration. on my back, with my legs spread wide, i was so much closer this time. all my senses were tingling, my body was quivering, my eyes were rolling into the back of my head.

it took me like an unexpected wave. like electro-shock. like a whirlwind of pleasure.

from the bottom, i watched him watch me – his expression began as dead pan curiosity and slowly melted into a loving glow. he seemed proud of himself, amazed at my performance, and deeply entranced by what was happening between us.

it felt amazing.

“better?” he asked.

i looked at him with surprise, “better than what?”

“do you feel better than before?”

“i suppose, but i felt great the whole damn time.”

tugging…

i really do have a thing for watching a man whack off. i have a little voyeur in me.

he went down on me last night. for, what seemed like, a million years. the whole time i just thought about him beating off. over and over, giving himself pleasure. getting that look that boys get when they are tugging at their junk.

i finally came and pulled him up to my side. “you know what i’ve been thinking about. you whacking off.”

“yeah.”

“yeah, i would love to see it…sorry i’m weird.”

“you’re not weird. not at all.”

he slid the covers off and took his cock in his hand.

i watched him. swooning.

i watched him stoke and tug at his balls and get so far into it that i am sure he forgot i was there.

i watched his hands and chest and face.

i wanted to devour him. i wanted to lick him. but i laid there, watching.

opening the door…

he kisses so good. like he grabs up all the tenderness and love and passion in the world and rolls up in his kisses.

it has taken us a while to get here.

all the things started off slowly. we moved forward cautiously. for once i didn’t beg him to fuck me within the first few minutes, or start sucking his dick after our second kiss. it was nice to hold myself back a bit. to relax. to revel.

when we sleep, we only use one pillow. we are all spooned and curled up in each others’ limbs. like wild morning glory vine.

i couldn’t take the kissing much more. i pulled his pants off. and whispered “can i tie you up and fuck the shit out of you?”

he didn’t hesitate. he didn’t sigh. he gave me a firm “yes.”

“leather, rope, or metal?”

“oh, leather.”

for the first time in a year, i took my leather cuffs from my drawer to use on someone else. if felt so good.

i went crazy on him. for a long time. i let it all out. it felt so good.

exhausted and breathless, i laid next to him. he offered up a piece of himself, “i’ve only had sex with two other people.”

i think i stopped breathing. i didn’t know what to say – should i tell him how many people i’ve fucked, do i know how many people i’ve fucked, do i feel insecure about opening the bondage door…

“well…i’ve had sex with more than two people.”

“i’m sure,” he said sort laughing, “the two i had sex with kinda sucked.”

“so you don’t know that much about sex?”

“no, not really.”

“do you want to learn?”

“god yes,” he said, kissing my forehead and tightening his embrace.

i have been waiting patiently for this man for a long time.

swoon.

the stupid things we say…

i was just thinking about my satisfying one night stand…and the last time we spent the night together.

it was sweet. we drank and fell into bed together.

there was kissing and sliding hands and mouths in all the right places.

then things were get awfully heated and i blurted out, “you can fuck me in the ass if you aren’t too mean.”

he sorta sighed and collasped. seeming to say, “just another crazy bitch in my bed.”

i sort of killed the moment.

i think we went to sleep after that.

i haven’t talked to him since.

blah.

what can i say. i am a freak sometimes.

drawing blood…

i don’t know how to write about our sex. it is good. simple. loving.

he lets me go crazy on him. he buries his head between my legs until i am done.

i bite. he moans. he grabs my hair. i lick his neck.

it has been a slow build.

the first two nights we spent together simply consisted of snuggling. then kissing. then a little rubbing.

i probably spent 8 nights with him before we had sex – this is just about unprecented for me in the past few years.

we open up slowly. cautiously. carefully. and each minute grows the glowing between us.

i am speechless.

swoon…

alex brings a smile to my face.

tonight we saw each other, unplanned. and we went our separate ways.

“call me tomorrow.” he said before jumping on his bike and riding in his direction.

he is loving, but not clingy. i didn’t know that was possible.

he sorta makes me swoon.

the first tornado…

my weekend boyfrined hasn’t let me go. and i haven’t let him know – that i am done.

we text a bit, he emails me a lot, a few calls here and there. i like him, as a friend. i think he is a great person and an intelligent companion, but i don’t want that.

the other day i received a letter in the mail. the real mail.

he explained that he would write the letter from beginning to end without stopping or correcting. letting his mind flow freely. he told me, very metaphorically, that one of the times he moved back to our city that he saw me randomly. this random sighting was accentuated by my tattoos. seeing my permanent ink pulled his heart strings and made him feel grounded in our hometown.

he told me that this was the beginning.

here is my response.

i am returning your letter in kind, comprised in the same form.

wish me luck.

you don’t really see it coming. and then there it is in your front yard. the coming of spring sees the beginning of tornado season, where a mass of hot air mixes with a mass of cold air to produce a powerful spiral that comes as quickly as it goes.

my tornado season begun when you blew into my life, appearing one day, dancing in a funnel cloud of sweet words and interlaced fingers, then gone without a trace. once a tornado is gone, all you have left to do is assess the damage and try to return to life as usual. so i returned, to work, to life, to my love affairs.

i received pleasant reminders of your kind affection and brilliant mind, all which brought smiles to my face. but in the interim another situation was sprouting.

this sprout is taking root and growing leaves. leaves that are swallowing up all my sun and choking out all other seeds of intimacy. i wanted to make you aware of this before you returned in search of more tender moments and interlaced fingers.

i am happy that spring has given me a friend in you, and i hope you will continue to allow me to enjoy your bright smile and witty conversation. i am lucky to have ever had you, even if fleeting. please come to my house for dinner when you are in town.

this is the second version of this letter, my words would not flow correctly the first time. i hope you find them smooth and intelligent this time.

all my best, kansas

my birthday again…

today i was trying to remember what i did last year for my birthday, my hung over brain wasn’t working as it should.

finally it hit me – i went with maxine on a debaucherous trip. she wrote about it last year:

This made me further reflect on a weekend I had spent out of town with Kansas. Many days after our return home were spent processing the new experiences I had brazenly shared with her.

The theme of the weekend was dubbed “good-times/tender times & exquisite pain”

I love having my ass turned a high shade of crimson under a strong steady hand. A stinging scalp caused by my curls being pulled especially straight is also quite lovely. Being pinned is divine. Being bound and fucked silly..then sweetly is magnificent. That had been the extent of my exquisite pain.

Kansas likes inflicting pain, as she also likes to receive.

We left town to celebrate.

We left town to be among people who were strangers.

We left town to sign signatures of surrender.

my birthday this year was spent on a slightly less sex-filled trip to one of the sexiest cities in europe.

i ate croissants and drank coffee and fumbled with my french and ate baguettes and talked art and books and drank wine and smoked cigarettes.

we went to the moulin rouge district – mostly lame, but i am sure i didn’t know the right places to go.

it was beautiful and relaxing.

the last night i had sex with a dear welsh boy. named danny. he was sweet. we both needed the human contact.

“would you like to spoon?” he asked with the sincerest of tones, the words drifted off his tongue with his dreamy accent giving them air.

“god, yes” i replied.

after a few hours of gentle kisses and lovely caresses and a mostly satisfying fuck we spooned. it was heart melting. one of those tragic beautiful moments, something came over me and i found myself opening my mouth,

“i guess we’ll never see each other again?”

“yeah, we won’t see each other again.” he was not cold, only honest. and we didn’t speak another word all night.

belle de jour…

oh my, i finally finished “the intimate adventures of a london call girl” – i say finally because i just wanted it to be over, but i don’t like to put down books before reading them all the way through.

it was an easy enough read, read like a script to some saucy HBO series (oh wait, showtime picked it up). though i want to call the book stupid and trite:

A. she is smart enough to make a bunch of money being a prostitute and then writing about it, then getting that published, then signing a t.v. deal. she is definitely not stupid. perhaps the book is a little shallow.

B. i wasn’t all that bored reading it. i just think that her social circle is not my social circle, so i couldn’t quite idenify.

C. it just all seems to perfect, too well manicured, the emotions seem manufactured. maybe that is because she is british.

pop sensation or not, i will say it was nice to read of a woman escorting and enjoying it. choosing it. she is in no way a victim of her situation or professional choice.

work is kicking my ass…

that seems to be my excuse for everything these days. i don’t like it.

i haven’t written in a while because of that, but also because the casual sex/dating that flows through the middle of my life has been extremely unsatisfying and almost boring.

don’t get me wrong. i have people to fuck, people to snuggle with – you remember, the harem. but it is all beginning to feel so shallow. so hollow.

i’m not exactly sure what i want, but i am sure it is not a random fuck from some guy at some bar who will text me a few weeks later at 3am to see what i am doing. the attention is nice, i suppose, but no one invests much in anything.

and then came along alex. sweet alex, letting me get all lovey on him.

one of my employees said – “i got a friend that needs a job, i’ll tell him to come down now.”

a few minutes later an attractive young man walks through the door and i think to myself – “please don’t let that be him, he is too cute. no, i don’t want to hire him, i want to fuck him.”

and of course, that was him.

so we worked together and smiled a lot and i kept kicking myself for hiring him. i don’t kiss at work.

and we spent a bunch of time together and slept in the same bed and never kissed. i could tell he was starting to get antsy.

“alex, you need to quit your job so i can make out with you.”

lo, and behold, that is exactly what he did – he even replaced himself. that’s oh so fine with me, he is a better kisser than worker.

our sexual relationship has been blossoming slowly. very slowly. it is nice. we take time. we enjoy each other’s bodies. we snuggle. a lot.