Pent up

As I mentioned in my last post, naked snuggles are how I deal with stress – and I have been feeling stressed lately, for various reasons.

Also, I spent years and years treating sex as a simple, fast, goal-oriented task, but The Pedant gave me a taste for marathon-style sensuality.  Or rather, rekindled a taste for it; I do recall falling into hours of trancelike exploration with partners when I was younger.  But yeah…now “quickies” don’t usually do it for me.  Now I want an entire day of uninterrupted time with someone so we can snuggle and nap and hopefully get into the kind of glorious trance where we can do sexual and/or sadomasochistic stuff for hours and hours.  The Bunny has the added bonus of having a small refractory period; unlike The Pedant, he can orgasm and still be interested in further sexytimes and then orgasm again.  And maybe again.  And has said that even when he’s “done” he doesn’t mind continuing to get me off.

Honestly, if The Bunny and I have fewer than six waking hours together it doesn’t feel like enough time to get me where I wanna go.

But lately it seems like there’s never enough time – mostly on The Bunny’s end.  Like, I always think that if he invites me to sleep over, it means we’ll have that whole day together (because when I invite a boy to sleep over I’ve usually reserved the next day for him, and if I do have a place to go, I’ll say so).  I have learned the hard way that this is not the case: often we’ll wake up together and I’ll be looking forward to a whole day of snuggles and he’ll be like “Oh by the way I’ve got somewhere I need to be in two hours.”

The most recent incident was just now – we’re going to a thing together on Friday night, and I asked if he’d like me to sleep over after.  He said sure and then added “But we’ll have to be out by about 11am.”  ARRRRGH GODDAMMIT.  The event goes late enough that we’d probably be going to sleep as soon as we got back to his place, and 11am is early enough that we’d probably have to get ready to leave as soon as we woke up.  I acknowledge and appreciate that he’s making time to fit me into his apparently busy schedule, and being sleep-snuggled is a wonderful, wonderful thing – but at this point sleep snuggles would just painfully whet my appetite for more.  I need to lie down and be petted until I can’t think anymore.  I want that feeling of dissolving in sensation – drowning in it – struggling to stay conscious and form words.  I want to feel waves of goosebumps and endorphins breaking over me until I’m so giddy I begin to either laugh or cry – or both.

Plus movies.  And bed-picnics.  And naps.

When The Bunny told me I could stay over but would have to leave so early, I said I could live with that but really missed marathon nekkid times and hoped he could reserve me a whole day and night sometime soon.  I told him that naked snuggling is how I deal with stress.

He replied “Lol.  Yer forgetting Sunday already?” which is annoying because we didn’t make plans for Sunday.  The Bunny has like four consecutive days off this weekend, and we discussed doing stuff, but the discussion was like “Here are the kink events going on while I’m off work.  Are there any that you would like to attend?”  “I can do events A and C.  Not interested in event B, can’t attend event D because I’m posing that day.  But yeah, if you want to go to A and/or C with me, let me know.”  “I will.”

That was it.  No concrete plans; no invite to sleep over.  Just “Let’s discuss this later.”  I don’t know why the hell The Bunny thought we had concrete plans…but anyway I reminded of how the conversation actually went and he said okay, let’s skip event C and I can come over to his place Sunday afternoon and stay til Monday.  Oh good lord I hope he means he’s not doing anything on Monday.  It suddenly occurs to me that he may have missed my point and is just figuring that a chunk of Sunday and a chunk of Monday will add up to enough time for me.  Which it wouldn’t, but it would at least be enough to take the edge off so I’ll take it.  Better than going to his place just to crash, as in our initial Friday night plan.

So I said cool, let’s just go our separate ways after Friday night’s thing so he can get proper sleep before his social stuff on Saturday, and we’ll make Sunday/Monday our time.  He’s amenable to that.

God, I need this.  I need this so much.  I hate that my very, very best way to relieve stress/anxiety/depression requires another person. 😦

This chain of events is re-igniting my sporadic urge to go find more partners.  I can sometimes call on Minx in a pinch if I need pettings, and The Latent Heterosexual has occasionally helped me out (though he’s in a relationship now so I’m not sure if he’d be up for it anymore) but this is not good enough.  I need more resources to draw upon.

I did meet the 22 year old from a few posts back and we hit it off pretty well, so there’s some exciting potential there.  I keep meaning to blog about our date and then I don’t get around to it.  Hopefully soon.

Sexy, sexy karma.

Last night, my hot long-distance internet flirt-buddy The Cartoonist randomly got in touch to tell me he’s been experimenting with eyeliner lately – and send me photos.  At almost the exact same time, I was chatting to Minx on Facebook and affectionately called her a narcissistic bitch; she responded by taking a provocative selfie with her cell phone and sending it to me.

Two days ago, The Latent Heterosexual texted me a photo of himself in drag.  He’s been texting me photos periodically for a while now, either in girl-clothes or naked, because he knows I enjoy them.

Three days ago, Link sent me a link to photos/video of a hot pair of gay male porn stars who are also identical twins fucking/kissing each other/etc.  Link has also sent me hot naked photos of himself from time to time.

A few weeks back, The Doll went to New York for some fetish convention thingy and was wearing a lot of latex.  He asked me if I’d be interested in seeing a photo from that time that I may enjoy.  I said yes.  He sent me a pic of himself lounging on a couch in a little latex mini-dress.  It was awe-inspiringly lovely.

None of these people ask for anything back.  They’re not plying me with hot pics to try to make me send some in return.  They just send me these little offerings purely to please me – or perhaps because they get off on knowing it turns me on.

People like to act as though men and women are two entirely different species with different ways of thinking, but I really think that this shit mostly works the same way for everyone: I value people’s friendship even if I also happen to want to fuck them, I don’t objectify anyone without their consent, and I know that flirting or a sexy photo does not constitute a promise of sex, and so guys feel comfortable sending me pretty things.

It wasn’t always this way.  I used to be a lot more single-minded in my pursuit of sex.  A lot of dudes claim they’d love to be objectified or “used for sex” but in reality I do not think they would like it (as I’ve discussed before).  The times I’d ask a guy out, or ask a guy for sex, and he said no and I froze him out with a palpable air of “Well what fucking good are you, then?!?” they didn’t seem to get off on it.  The time I called up a guy I was seeing, looking to get laid, and he kept waffling over whether or not he could come over and I snapped “Look, are we doing this or should I call someone else?” he did not appear to enjoy it.  When my husband came home and I was like “I’ve been reading erotica online all day and I really wanna get fucked – how about it?” it turned him off – I was wanting sex in general and his dick was a convenient outlet for it, whereas he wanted me to want him in particular.  Which is understandable.

During those dark ages of my sexuality, men were not particularly generous with me because I was not particularly generous with them: I was looking at them more as targets than as people.

Somewhere along the line, my attitude gradually began to change; I started trying to meet people I genuinely liked, not just people I wanted to bang, and if I wanted to bang one of these awesome likable people but it wasn’t mutual then I’d enjoy their company platonically without resentment.  And I made a conscious effort to stop seeing intercourse or orgasms as the be-all and end-all and find fulfillment in the many other sexy fun things two or more people can do together.  I’ve stopped demanding monogamy, even – partly for self-serving reasons, yes, but partly because I want whomever I’m seeing to be happy even if their happiness includes fucking other people.

And now…my sex life has kind of bloomed.  And I don’t think it’s a coincidence.

*Insert allegory re: “baby ducks” and “imprinting” here*

Another thing I glossed over in my haste to obsess on The Pedant some more: my second date with The Baby Duck.  We hung out in the park for a while and then moved the hangouts to my place.

On my couch, we were making small talk and I gave him my mini-rant about “politeness” usually being synonymous with “vagueness” and told him that sometimes people seem to dislike how direct I am.  He said he likes directness and I can always feel free to say stuff to him outright.  That was good to hear.  Then I told him about that one scene in The Big Bang theory that I like, where the main character asks out his coworker and she’s like “Well, what’s the point of dinner and a movie if there doesn’t turn out to be any physical chemistry between us?” and she suggests that they forego the date and just kiss right then and there, to find out.  And then there was a pause and The Baby Duck smiled at me and said “You wanna find out if we have any chemistry?”  Which was not entirely a propos since we’d already kissed at the end of our first date, but I saw what he was getting at.  I suggested he get rid of the gum he was chewing, and he did.  And then there were makeouts.

Most people seem to experiences attraction as a binary thing; either they totally want to fuck someone, or they don’t want anything remotely sexual happening with them.  I wish it were like that for me, but no: I get situations like with The Latent Heterosexual (whom I am attracted to in the sense that I feel a pull toward him, want to touch him, and constantly ogle his body when we hang out, but when we try to do stuff we can’t seem to muster any passion) or The Vixen (with whom I made out once and it turned me on, but I wasn’t interested in anything further).  And now there’s The Baby Duck, where there’s some attraction and I really enjoy kissing him but so far it doesn’t turn me on per se, and I have no urge to see him naked.

And of course my good old rape culture training tells me that kissing is supposed to be kind of a downpayment on sex, so I feel like I should confess this horrible defect of mine to The Baby Duck – like, warn him that maybe I’ll never put out, or ask him if he’s okay with us just making out and nothing else, ever.  But with my luck, if I say that, my attraction will end up growing over time and I’ll be like “Hey, I think I might be into other stuff, after all!” and I’ll feel like this wishy-washy chick who’s jerking him around.

I wanna be fully into him, dammit!  He clearly likes me, he texts me on a regular basis and initiates outings and stuff, he’s a good communicator…when we were making out, he accidentally discovered that lightly caressing pretty much any part of my skin makes me all wriggly and gaspy, and he said – not sarcastically – “Wow, you’re so responsive to touch!  That’s really exciting.”  And he checked in with me frequently to make sure I was having fun, to ask where I’d like to be touched, etc.  And when he asked me if I was ticklish, I actually had no fear at all of telling him yes-don’t-ever-poke-my-ribs-because-I-hate-it because I knew he’d abide by this and not get all intrigued and feint toward me in hopes of provoking a reaction.  And indeed, my instincts were right: he simply thanked me for telling him and we went on with our lives.

Now I’m starting to wonder if I’m one of those people who’s Attracted To The Wrong Kinds of Guys.  I didn’t think I was, but The Doll, The Latent Heterosexual, and The Baby Duck all look great on paper and even have some of the physical traits I usually love, and yet the lust isn’t really there.  The only boy I want to bang the living shit out of right now is The Pedant, whose motivations are infuriatingly opaque to me a lot of the time and who I sometimes think is kind of an asshole*.  Good lord, am I unattracted to the other dudes because they’re transparent and communicate well?

Ummmm.  Huh.  I would say that Minx was a good communicator (in the beginning of our relationship, when he was still making an effort) and he certainly wasn’t an abrasive asshole “alpha dog” type like The Pedant, and I still fell in love with Minx.  So…for now, let’s say The Baby Duck et. al. are just random pheromonal misfires – “close but no cigar” boys.  If I lust after a dude but then he starts being more communicative and this kills it for me, that’s when I’ll know I have a problem.

btw I’m going on a third date with The Baby Duck tomorrow.  And y’know…my lack of crotch-tingles isn’t even really a dealbreaker for me…I think we could maybe have pleasant and fulfilling sex, anyway, just because he’s an awesome person (and has really awesome lips).  I think my real problem is just that I’m pretty sure he likes me more than I like him and I don’t want to hurt his feelings.  And I don’t know when to tell him it’s not gelling for me – do I wait a little longer just in case attraction kicks in later (it might!  You don’t know!), or do I give a heads-up now before he becomes too invested?

In other dating news, I can’t remember if I mentioned it before but there’s an 18 year old on FetLife whose profile picture is extremely cute and who wants to be feminized and pegged.  It took him nineteen days to answer my initial email, but then when I didn’t immediately send a response he sent a second email prompting me.  When we made plans to meet he bailed the day of, but since then he’s been persistently asking to chat with me via IM so I decided his excuse for bailing must have been legit and he was indeed interested in getting to know me.  But when I finally made time to chat with him tonight, it was like pulling teeth.  I was carrying the entire conversation – I’d ask him something, he’d take forever to answer and then write me a single dead-end sentence, I’d wrack my brain for something else to ask, lather/rinse/repeat.  Finally I told him outright that as cute and articulate as he is, and as much as I’d like to get to know him, carrying the entire conversation was getting tiring so I was gonna do something else.  I told him that if there’s ever a better time to talk – like a time when he’s able to respond in a timely fashion and actually willing to ask me stuff about myself, maybe we can resume.  And then I logged out.

Meanwhile The Pedant – as I mentioned a post or two ago – has asked to visit me this coming week.  We agreed on Thursday.  When I asked him what time he wanted to come by, he said “That depends.  Are you working at all that day?”  I said no, I was free, so any time from 2pm onward [I wake up around 1pm lately] would be fine.  The Pedant texted me back “Cool. :)” and nothing else…which made me think he was just gonna drop by whenever he felt like it, which infuriates me (I have better things to do than wait by the door like a dog!).  So I was all “Yeah, so what time were you thinking of?  Ballpark.  I want to know how long I can postpone laundering my sheets and getting groceries.”  He replied, “By 3pm.”  The fact that he’s evidently wanting to maximize his time with me – planning to arrive pretty much the second I said I was available – makes me squee for joy a little bit.  I guess when I said I was free from 2pm onward and he said “cool” he meant “cool, that’s roughly the time I’ll aim for, then.”

I am absolutely going to have some kind of “what is the nature of this relationship” discussion with The Pedant when I see him.  Fuck it.  I have to know.  And I’m prrrrretty sure(?) that if I say “dating-ish” and he says “just friendly fucking” he won’t get freaked out and bail or anything.  I think he trusts me and takes me at face value, so if I tell him I can compartmentalize and keep things going just as they were before, he’ll believe me.

*”But it’s not like he’s an asshole with me!” a tiny, defensive voice inside my head protests.  “Sure,” responds a more cynical voice, “But the fact that he’s sweet to you but comes off aloof and abrasive in general is – admit it – a big part of his appeal for you, and that’s probably not healthy.  At any rate it never worked out well in the past.”  At this point a third voice pipes up with “Gawd, you’re all squishy for this boy because you think you’ve tamed him and because you think he’s wounded and needs your help and understanding!  That is so gross!  What’re you, sixteen?”

An evening with TLH

Totally decent evening with The Latent Heterosexual the other night.  Small talk and “catching up” fairly quickly led to cuddling and caressing, during which he told me that he’d be comfortable “messing around” if I wanted to, and I said I thought I’d be okay with that, too.

After a while we moved from the couch to the bed.  TLH asked if I’d like him to take any clothes off.  I said that just his shirt was fine for now.  I straddled him and ran my hands over him and bit him a little bit, but really couldn’t build up much sexual fervour; my chemistry with him has always been a little iffy, plus these days he has a full beard (it suits him, but it makes me not want to interact with his face very much).  His skin was smoother than I’d remembered and nice to touch.

I peeled my dress off over my head and asked him to caress my back.  He ground his crotch up against me as he did this, and I ground back down on him a little bit.  His hands were amazing.  The band of my bra became an infuriating impediment to sensation but I wasn’t sure I wanted to take it off just yet, partly because TLH was always really into nipple sucking and that was a little more intimate than I wanted to be with him at that point.  I suppose I could have just asked that he not do that, but it seemed easier and more comfortable just to keep my breasts under wraps.  TLH did rear up on his elbows to bury his face in my cleavage, though.

I think from there I ended up collapsing next to him and he gave me a neck rub.  I massaged his neck and back, too, but not too firmly or for too long – I realized aloud that I was doing a really demanding posing job the next day and needed to preserve my strength.  TLH was understanding of this.

I lay on my stomach (with one of TLH’s arms trapped under me somehow) and asked him to run his hands over my legs and feet.  Instead of sitting up to do this, he remained next to me with his bottom arm pinned under my belly and just caressed as far as he could reach.  As soon as his fingers trailed downward over the backs of my knees, the nerve endings in the soles of my feet lit up in anticipation and began to tingle/throb.  But TLH couldn’t reach that far; his fingers circled from mid-calf up to the bottom of my ass where my boxer shorts were riding up, and then back down again.  I let the anticipation build until I thought I might die, and then repeated my request for foot-pettings.  TLH excused himself to go to the bathroom first.

When he returned, he’d stripped down to his underpants.  I’d been going to ask him to do that anyway, but it bothered me on principle that he’d taken it upon himself to get more naked when earlier I had asked him to remove only his shirt.  Maybe this is unfair…?  I’d disrobed without asking him first, after all.  I did miss The Doll’s stalwart and very literal obedience at that moment, though.  Give The Doll an instruction and he adheres to it come hell or high water.  At any rate TLH immediately donned a bathrobe, so if his increased nakedness had offended me in and of itself (it hadn’t) that would have mostly fixed it.

And then…he began to caress my feet.  And continued doing so for a lovely long time while I writhed and vocalized and gripped handfuls of mattress.  I need to find myself a nice foot fetishist so I can have that kind of attention more often and know that my partner is loving it, too.  I’m sure TLH enjoyed drawing such reactions out of me but the fact that I had to ask for this twice makes me a bit paranoid.  Was it just that he couldn’t reach, at first, and had forgotten that my feet are such a huge erogenous zone for me?  Or is he slightly put off by feet and needed to be pushed a little bit to touch mine?

At any rate, I got what I needed and I got it good.  I ended up high and giggling from endorphins, almost like I do after an orgasm.  TLH curled up with his back to me and I spooned him (except he was lower than the “little spoon” would normally be; his head was at my chest level.  He’d been putting himself lower than me at intervals all night.  Part of his submissive nature, I guess?) and ran my hands over his thigh where the bathrobe had fallen open, and he fell asleep.  I decided I might as well try for a nap, too.

After an hour or two, I surfaced again and realized I should probably get home.  It was dark out and felt late; I wanted to sleep in my own bed so I’d be optimally rested for work the next day.  I carefully climbed over TLH, used his bathroom, came back, and stealthily put my dress and socks back on.  Then – sitting on my knees beside him on the mattress – I put my hand on TLH’s shoulder and told him I was heading out.  He made a sleepy, incoherent sound, sat up…and then bent forward so his head was in my lap and put his arms around my waist.  

Once upon a time I would have loved it if someone had prostrated themselves before me.  That night…I didn’t.  I don’t know if it’s because my preferences in a sub have changed or if it’s just that I don’t see TLH as  my sub so the prostration felt unearned or inappropriate.  But I figured TLH must have wanted to feel submissive that night, and all the putting-his-head-lower-than-mine stuff was his way of getting where he wanted to go, so (then, and also earlier when he would put his head on my chest) I just petted his hair.

After a few minutes, TLH raised himself from my lap/walked me to the door/hugged me goodbye/etc.

Part of me feels guilty that the night wasn’t very reciprocal (TLH lavished way more attention on me than vice-versa) and wonders whether he’s disappointed that things didn’t go in a blatantly sexual direction.  But y’know…earlier that very night, TLH described himself as a very service-oriented sub, and in the past he’s said that he’s not sure he even likes orgasming.  He says that obviously the coming itself feels good, but afterwards he always feels a little guilty and ridiculous so in a way it’s more fun to just be aroused and not release.  He says he likes having sex that pleasures the other person and then just…stopping without coming, himself.

So probably he’s fine with the way things went.  And so am I, really; the only reason I even massaged TLH in return is because it felt like the polite thing to do.  I actually would have been totally fine with just lying back and receiving his ministrations all night long without doing a damn thing back.  And once we were on his bed dry-humping I realized I didn’t much feel like doing sexual stuff, although if he’d offered me a hand job I might have accepted out of sheer curiosity (my crotch is not cooperating with me lately…I require the Hitachi every time, and usually on the highest setting.  But if anyone could get me off manually, it’s TLH and his ridiculously strong guitar-player’s fingers).

I do hope TLH got something out of it – feeling needed or feeling submissive or whatever it is he was looking for.  I certainly got the touch and intimacy I needed.

I’m gonna do THIS now.

I feel the need to balance that last angsty post with a happy one.  So, here is an awesome thing I’ve noticed: I’m becoming a lot more comfortable in my dominance.  Particularly in bed.

When I was a teenager, I was plagued by all the usual stupid ideas about straight people’s sexuality: that once you get a guy turned on, you have to give him an orgasm; that if you’ve chosen to give him that orgasm via P-in-V, you’re “locked in” right to the end and can’t change your mind or switch to something else; that it’s really important for the woman to look attractive and be really proficient in bed, but not that important that she get pleasure; etc.  And I’m embarrassed to say that a lot of that baggage stuck with me right up into my 30s.

But, I dunno, for some reason I’m finally letting it all go.  Partly, I think, because I’ve been spending a lot of time on FetLife among guys who truly do love it when a woman puts herself first and foremost, so I’m finally understanding that being selfish is not a dealbreaker for everyone.  Also partly because – for the first time in my life – I’m actually giving a lot of thought to what I want at any given time instead of just going with the flow.  Dominance is all well and good, but you have to know what you want in order to pursue it – and this may have been the weak link for me.

So, for instance, when I’m fucking The Pedant I’ll think “Yeah, this is fun but I wanna get off and I can’t do that while I’m riding him.”  And so I dismount and masturbate until I don’t feel like masturbating anymore.  Then I climb back aboard if I feel like it…and if I don’t feel like it, I don’t.*

This thing where I pretend a guy is my very own animate sex toy is pretty awesome.  And, okay, I’m working with a pretty small sample size here,** but so far nobody minds that I’m acting this way.  I’m not encountering any resistance or whining.

Awesome.

 

*Although admittedly I’ll switch to giving him a hand job rather than just going “Yup, bored now.  Let’s watch tv.”  If we were in an actual D/s relationship, I might discontinue the sexytimes entirely when I was satisfied – but we’re not, and I think in vanilla sex it’s only polite to give your partner an orgasm if they want one.  I may actually try withholding sometime anyway, just to see what The Pedant will do…I think it would be fun to try to keep him at a fever pitch for hours or days.

**The Pedant, Minx (although I was still somewhat inhibited with him), The Doll, and The Latent Heterosexual (I haven’t had intercourse with either of them, but both of them have massaged/caressed me and I’ve experimented with unapologetically asking for what I want and accepting more attention than I give out).

Like one of my French girls.

I forgot to mention – when Minx was over the other night, I showed him “men ups” (a set of male pin-ups someone did).  Which got Minx thinking about the pin-ups I’ve done of him, I guess, because he shyly asked me if he could pose for me again sometime.

At the time, I said “Sure – I’m always happy to add more skinny, pretty boys to my roster.”  And Minx does have a particular coquettish quality that can be hard to find in a guy (plus, y’know, DAT ASS).

But then I immediately remembered that I’d been trying to get him to pose for me when we were together and he kept brushing me off (which, to me, is tantamount to being turned down repeatedly for sex.  Painting Minx was a way of me expressing my love and lust for him).  For the last year or more of our relationship I’d tell intermittently tell him I had an idea for a painting and needed reference photos for it, and he’d irritably tell me it wasn’t a good time/he was too sore from work/etc.  Bear in mind that a lot of the poses I had in mind were simple and unstrenuous and it takes five minutes or less to snap a damn picture.  I wasn’t asking him to strap on a 50-pound Vegas showgirl headdress and swing upside-down from the chandelier for five hours or anything.

So when we were together, the idea of posing for sexy photos was this huge imposition*.  But now…what?  He’s missing the attention?  He’s missing me, and trying to suck up to me by finally giving me something I’d been asking for for ages?  He’s realizing that it’s actually pretty cool to have someone lovingly and painstakingly render your body on canvas – over and over again until their living room is like a shrine to your ass – and that he had thoroughly taken that for granted while we were living together?

Maybe someday when my feelings settle a bit I’ll be able to use Minx as a model again.  Right now, though, I kinda want to go “Yeah…fuck you.  Too little, too late.”

In the meantime I have The Doll as a willing model, and possibly The Latent Heterosexual and The Hedonist as well.  SpankBoy would likely indulge me, too.  Link, for sure, when he comes over in June.  And there are tons of other guys out there who would find it an exciting novelty to be photographed and painted.

So…Minx may have missed the boat.

*This from a boy who spent 99.9% of his downtime either naked or in panties, by the way.  He likes being naked.  He likes wearing panties.  He likes feeling sexy, and would frequently gyrate or strike a pose when he caught me looking.  I don’t know why he stopped modelling for me, but I’m damn sure it wasn’t because the actual photo-taking was a huge deal.

Boys, friends, and clothes.

In addition to my sporadically seeing The Pedant and The Doll, The Hedonist is still in play (as far as I know).  Also, my American friend Link will be in my city in June and wants me to fuck his ass a whole lot.  And an exceptionally cute boy I used to spank (literally just play out spanking scenes, no sex) has recently become single and would like to “catch up” with me sometime.  Even when he was with his girlfriend, he told me I was one of the best spankers he’d ever had and invited me to come play with both of them (I declined out of performance anxiety), so I’m certain his offer to “catch up” is not strictly platonic.  Whether I’ll spank him again, I don’t know – our old arrangement was somewhat unfulfilling for me, since there were no makeouts and I was topping rather than dominating him – but I’m thinking about it.  He has a great ass and is gifted at acting like a pouty adolescent who’s been very very bad, so…yeah.

And I’m still platonically cuddling The Latent Heterosexual from time to time.I don’t guess my luck with the boys will hold out for long – typically, no matter how bounteous my options seem, shit happens that rules each guy out one by one until I’m back to zero – but right now I feel like I have access to hot and cold running dick.  And because I’m now openly nonmonogamous, I don’t have to feel guilty or try to narrow it down to one guy!  I do have some fears that The Doll will get freaked out and bail when he realizes I’ve been fucking The Pedant (and I will tell The Doll that I’m sexing someone else, at least before sleeping with him – informed consent is important!) but we’ll see.

In other news, I’ve recently taken advantage of Boxing Day sales to buy myself new clothes for the first time in ages.  I got:

-A pair of black jeans

-A pair of hot pink jeans (on which I tentatively plan to paint black stripes) (stripey pants are a goth staple that I’ve always loved, but tend to cost upwards of $100).

-A transparent pink-and-black tigerstripe tank top (to wear clubbing)

-A hot pink hooded sweatshirt

-A pair of sweatpants to wear to modelling gigs – they have pockets that close with velcro so my keys will stay secure even when the pants are flung on the floor and picked up again multiple times.

-A strappy little purple dress with a lacy bodice (technically a chemise, but I’m reinventing it as clubwear).  Should look good with fishnets and stompy boots.

-A pair of metallic silver leggings – they were only $10 and I think they’ll appeal to The Doll’s plastic/latex fetish (I don’t usually like to be a guy’s object of desire – I bristle when asked to wear lingerie, for example – but The Doll is so willing to be my eye candy that I don’t much mind returning the favour.  Maybe.  Eventually.  And now I have the means to do it).

It’s nice having new things.  My two old standby pairs of jeans are getting threadbare in the crotch from where my thighs rub together, and I’ve also been feeling kind of frumpy lately and (as always when I’ve just broken up with someone) wanting to change up my look a bit.  I’ve also got a new hairdo, courtesy of The Latent Heterosexual (who kindly shaved the parts of my head that I indicated).  The Pedant has volunteered to re-shave the shaved bits when it’s time, and claims he can teach me to do it myself by feel.

So, all this plus I’ve been having lots of outings with my wonderful friends lately.

I feel blessed.

A better Boxing Day

I Facebook-messaged Red some suggested guidelines for maintaining friendships with Minx and me at the same time, and she wrote me back saying that she’d only hung out with him that one time since he and I broke up – and that was because her girlfriend unthinkingly invited him to Christmas dinner and Red jumped in and nixed it (wanting to reserve that day for me) and said Minx could come visit right then if he wanted.  There was already one other friend visiting Red’s at that time, and one or two more showed up later, and that’s how it snowballed.

So I’m feeling a bit better now.  Plus, I guess I’ve been blowing Minx up into some kind of scary monster in my head but apparently when Red said she was bequeathing Christmas to me, he immediately agreed that she was right to do this and backed off quite amicably.  So he may suck at being in a relationship with me but it doesn’t sound like he’s actually an asshole.

Also, he texted me today to let me know about a tv sale at his work (which I’d asked him to do, before we broke up – I figured there’d be some good deals on Boxing day) and we exchanged some cordial words.  So that’s nice.  He seems to be generally thinking of me and trying to be helpful.  Maybe he has some idea there’s some atoning to do, after all.

Meanwhile, I am abruptly going through a phase where I wanna fuck the whole damn world – except I know that if I got an actual offer I’d probably chicken out.  But I just felt so restricted and hemmed in and unfulfilled for so long, y’know?  Even The Doll’s presence in my life is kind of chafing me because I worry that if I have adventures with other guys it’ll hurt his feelings (plus I don’t want to do anything much with someone else until we’ve talked about how much disclosure he wants of my activities) – so in an indirect way I’m feeling restricted again and I hate it.  I’ll have to initiate more poly discussion with him soon and figure out where his head is at.  Maybe he’s not actually a jealous person – who knows?

All right, I’m off to The Latent Heterosexual’s place for help shaving my head, plus hopefully some nonsexual snuggles and massages. 😀

BOYS BOYS BOYS

One of the Lush products I bought the other day was a massage bar (looks kinda like a bar of soap, melts into a slippery oil upon contact with warm skin).  The product is called Friends With Benefits – I couldn’t make this shit up.

I totally just messaged The Pedant on Facebook and flirtily mentioned that I bought this thing (without mentioning the name, which would be a little too on-the-nose).  I referenced it in the middle of a bunch of random life updates, and capped it by telling him I’d like to hang out with him but not quite yet because I’m still dealing with apartment mess and whatnot.

Then I messaged The Latent Heterosexual and just flat-out told him I bought a massage bar and would love to use it with him if he’s up for it (and making other chitchat, too).  He must have been online right then because he responded quite quickly, saying something like “I’m not sure exactly what you have in mind, but it sounds like a good time.”

My situation with TLH is kind of weird.  I’m quasi-attracted to him, but not all the way…we tried making out not that long ago and it fell flat (for me, at least, and I thought for him too) and yet I still ogle his body any time I think he’s not looking.  And we agreed that platonic snuggles and massages would be amenable to both of us, but the first time we tried it, he started subtly humping me and then repositioned me so he could straddle my leg and hump me unsubtly (I deflected by rolling over and requesting a backrub, which he cheerfully gave me) – this despite him saying on many occasions that he’s not an orgasm-focused person and generally prefers massages to sex.  Plus I never really got a vibe that he finds me attractive, per se; he’s never said it and I’ve never caught him checking me out.  So I don’t know whatthefuck.

When the making out didn’t work, I assumed I was attracted enough to him that I enjoyed looking at him, but not enough to want to do stuff to him…but the snuggles kind of awoke my libido a little bit and if I hadn’t been in kind of a sad and confused headspace that one night I might have humped him back.  I find myself kinda-sorta wanting to ask him for handjobs…Minx’s lack of stamina has shaken my confidence badly and made me wonder if my body has actually changed and I need some ridiculous inhuman amount of stimulation now.  I worry that no guy will ever again be able to get me off.  TLH, though, is a guitar player – his hands are incredibly strong and dextrous.  He gave me a few handjobs back in the day and his ministrations were solid and steady and got me off in two minutes flat – and his hand wasn’t even remotely tired.  If anyone can get me past my insecurities and mental blocks, it’s him.  I think maybe I just hate the way he kisses (so passive and slack!  I need more pushback) but enjoy most of the other things he does.  I dunno.

Anyway, I sensed a little confusion or perhaps trepidation in his “I don’t know what you’re planning” comment, so I wrote him back and spelled it out for him: I desperately need a foot massage (provided feet don’t gross him out) and would like a shoulder rub without clothes intervening, and I’d be happy to return the favour by massaging whatever muscles need it on him.  I said that my feelings about sex and orgasms are kind of complicated right now so I’m really only proposing massage and nothing more – but “more” has crossed my mind because frankly he’s really hot.

I think I managed to be clear without either seeming like I was leading him or rejecting him (sexually speaking).

As for The Pedant, well…I’d like to experience his shoulder rubs without clothes in the way, too.  But I have some reservations about him – I don’t trust him as completely as I trust TLH – so I don’t have the nerve to outright invite him over or anything.  Also, I’m not sure what this breakup with Minx might do to me – I’m feeling fairly level-headed and happy right now, but I know I might crash without warning and I don’t want to be out on a date when it happens.  That’s why all I did for now is allude to owning massage paraphernalia and make a vague reference to hanging out with him sometime in the future.

Oh, but also, we were flirting a week or so ago via text message and I totally dropped an earnestness-anvil into the conversation by telling him “I’m down with taking the physical stuff further, but I’ll want to take things slowly…if you can’t deal with nakedness without orgasms or orgasms without sex, though, I’m happy to keep our dynamic exactly as it is now – whatever makes you comfortable.”  I had told him about the debacle with The Ingenue a while back so I’m sure he knew why I was saying all of this…he texted back “we’ll sort it out when we get there,” which is not the direct reassurance or expression of wants/needs I was hoping for but isn’t bad, either.  Clearly, he’s not too much of an “ejaculation or GTFO” guy, considering we’ve been seeing each other for a year now and only making out*; I’m hoping his response to me means “I think I can handle whatever happens but if it turns out I can’t, I’ll let you know without throwing a hissyfit.”

Can’t remember if I mentioned it here but I’m also talking to two guys on Fetlife.  One is average-cute and interesting and has a couple of overlapping kinks with me, and the other is into completely different things from me but I think he’s LUDICROUSLY HOT.  Both are willing to be photographed/painted, and both are being surprisingly patient with me needing to tie up loose ends with Minx before I meet them in person.  It’s nice, being able to tell a virtual stranger “here’s where I’m at and what I need right now” and have them go “cool, I can totally accommodate that.”  It hasn’t really happened to me before.  Was I not speaking as directly, or were the boys not as patient?  Hmmmm.

 

*But the thing is, we were always in public.  Probably he wouldn’t have gone for more intimate contact even if I’d invited it because, y’know, people could walk by.  We can’t necessarily ascribe his behaviour to respect for my autonomy, is what I’m saying.

Changing my mind – literally!

The Latent Heterosexual and I have become snuggle buddies.  This is not a euphemism – there’s no sex involved, and no nudity so far – we’ve just been snuggling/caressing/massaging each other the last few times we’ve hung out.  We’re both in the throes of romantic difficulties (his girlfriend moved out of their place a month or two ago and Minx, as you know, is moving out in about two weeks) so we both really need the support and affection.  I’m so, so glad I have him – my biggest fear when it comes to being single is not having anyone around to provide stress-relieving tactile stimulation.  I seriously start to go a bit batty without it.  But it looks like maybe that need is covered, now.

In other news, I have decided to take on the daunting task of rewiring the “housekeeping” part of my brain.  TLH’s apartment is always really neat and clean and SWEET MOTHER OF GOD it’s amazing.  I can walk through his place in the dark without tripping or sliding or getting grit stuck to my feet!  Also, the tidiness makes me feel really…serene.  His place is a little oasis from chaos.  I want my place to feel like that, too.

So in-between snugglevisits I grilled TLH via text message, asking him how he came to have such solid housekeeping skills, how often he cleans, whether he sets a schedule for certain tasks, etc.  He said his parents are quite tidy people, so maybe he learned it from them, and that he generally cleans messes up as soon as they happen (he does do this; he made me dinner recently and started doing the dishes before I’d even finished eating).  I’ve always felt that cleaning up right away feels like an endless round of drudgery, and said so.  He replied “it only takes a few minutes and then you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”  Framed that way, it actually doesn’t sound too bad.

Here’s the thing about my shitty housekeeping: I’ve had various health issues sapping my energy for as long as I can remember, and so from a very young age I threw stuff on the floor/counter/whatever because I simply lacked the spoons to put it away*.  This behaviour became such a habit that even when I started feeling a bit better, it just…didn’t occur to me to use my newfound vigour for housework.  After all, I’d had 30-odd years of not putting my clean laundry away, not doing dishes, not cleaning the bathroom, etc.  I had no routine in place for any of that stuff.  It just wasn’t a part of my life.

Speaking of habits: I hate getting my hands wet.  HATE IT.  It borders on a phobia for me.  And when I was growing up my family didn’t have a dishwasher and there were never dishwashing gloves** around the house (apparently my parents didn’t share my hatred of prune-fingers). So doing the dishes was pretty much nightmarish for me.  Now that I’ve discovered the miracle of rubber gloves, washing dishes is actually pretty inoffensive to me (provided I’m feeling energetic enough to stand up for that long).  In wintertime, doing dishes is even kind of nice because the hot water warms my hands up through the gloves.  And yet I still have this automatic gut reaction that doing dishes is the worst thing ever.  So I’ve got that working against me, too.

I read somewhere that when you do something over and over again the same way, it actually carves a groove into your brain.  This is why old habits are so hard to break – because they are literally entrenched right in your brain-meat.  But the good news is that if you force myself to do things a new way, eventually that too will make a brain-groove, and the new groove will overwrite the old one.  Or something.

So in theory I might be able to reprogram myself to be all tidy and shit.  Provided my health holds out, of course – otherwise I’m back to square one.

I don’t feel I can begin this reprogramming with Minx living here, for various reasons.  But my plan for after he’s moved out is to get the apartment perfectly clean and tidy, and then a) try to be vigilant about cleaning messes right when I make them and b) do a quick once-over before bed to get anything I might have missed.  I tend to be a bit all-or-nothing in my thinking, so I suspect the only way I can maintain a nice home is to keep it immaculate – one piece of laundry on the floor and I’ll think “meh, I might as well dump this other laundry on the floor, too.  I’ll get to it soon.  Probably.”  and then the whole system will descend into chaos.

Has anyone out there reformed themselves from slob to not-slob?  Can you tell me how you did it?

* Ohhhh crap, I bet the “endless drudgery” feeling of cleaning messes up right away is connected to that, too!  Like, if making the mess exhausted my meagre reserves to the point where it was difficult to even stand upright, of course cleaning it up would feel ridiculously hard!  So I’d decide to clean up later (when I’d rested for a while and gained strength again) but by then there was always something else I wanted to do first.  When you have limited energy, it stands to reason you’re gonna use it on either the really important stuff or the really fun stuff and then, if there’s anything left over, tackle everything else.  Cleaning was never as high on my priority list as, say, doing my homework or watching tv.

**…And since I was a bit of a social outcast as a kid, I barely ever went to anyone else’s house, so I bet I was at least eleven or twelve before I realized that dishwashing gloves were even a thing.  Otherwise I would have asked for some!