I apologize. Once again. For my absence of late. I can't really explain it. I just haven't felt up to blogging lately. But I HAVE been thinking a lot about sex. Yes, I know, what else is new.
The week The Pilot spent with me was particularly emotional, for both of us. We did a lot of talking, a lot of drinking, and, well, a lot of everything. All of it was needed, and I think we're in a good place now, but it was hard for me, in a lot of ways. Don't get me wrong, it was also wonderful, and loving, and sexy and a million other things, but I guess I wasn't entirely prepared for the emotionality that came with his visit. I learned quite a bit about The Pilot, but also a lot about myself. I don't know whether to say I've totally recovered from all of that yet. So I'm just going to list some of the things I've discovered as of late. I'm sorry for the lack of inspiration here, but I guess these are things I need to get out of my system before I can move forward, and hopefully get myself out of this funk in time for Pride celebrations this weekend.
I am not broken. At least, not anymore. I've written before about the fact that, beginning a few years ago, I've had a particularly difficult time climaxing with partners. It didn't seem to be something physical, as I could get myself off, but there seemed to be some kind of emotional block or something. It hasn't been as pervasive lately, but I've still wondered if I would ever regain the ability I used to have to have several orgasms in a given session.
Answer: Yes. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Yes. Perhaps one of my favorite things about The Pilot is how willing he is to indulge and experiment with me and just roll with the result. In this case, he found a few of my buttons, and learned to press them long enough and in the right ways to get me off. Five times. In a row. I'm pretty sure that's never happened before. He seemed pretty proud of himself, and I think he certainly had good reason to be. Needless to say, I was an illiterate, malleable puddle of girl by the time he was done with me. I couldn't even form a sentence, let alone any of my signature snarky, self-confident comebacks.
But, as we learned another night, there is a limit. And my being unbroken doesn't mean I don't also freak out sometimes. I freaked out HARD. It wasn't particularly anything he did, but my head was somewhere else. And then I just stopped and floated away. My head wasn't in the moment, and my body doing something my head wasn't up to speed with just shut me down entirely. The Pilot was good about asking me what I needed and listening when I finally was able to speak (or even acknowledge that he was speaking to me) again, but it was a scary experience from me, just in how disconnected I could be.
Which lead me to start thinking about being disconnected from sex in general. Not especially from my partners, because they are an important part of my life, but from sex itself. I'm well aware of the cliched woman who, while her man is having sex with her, is counting ceiling tiles or going over the grocery list, but I've never been that woman. And I like not being her. And while I wasn't bored with The Pilot when I freaked out, I just realized I wasn't really there with him. And I didn't like it. I don't like feeling disconnected from what I'm doing, especially in the bedroom.
There are certain things in my past that have taught me how to disconnect what my body is doing from what my heart is feeling. I know this. And I've known I was capable of doing this. But I haven't done it lately. Or at least I didn't realize I had been doing it. But thinking about it, I have been, for years now, disconnecting relationships (little r or capital) from sex. Not that I don't have sex in my relationships, I certainly do... and good sex at that. But I don't often equate that action with being dependent upon the relationship at all. I was talking with my roommate the other night, and she said she'd never had sex with someone she really didn't like. I have. I've had sex with people I couldn't stand outside the bedroom. On repeated occasions. Because it was just sex. Sex itself has been so inherently separated from relationships, or even love or real feelings, that I had forgotten there was any other way to do it.
Talking to The Pilot about this, he was pointing out his philosophy, which is absolutely at the other end of the spectrum from mine. He ONLY has sex with people he really cares about. And as such, sex is intense with him. It was an interesting reminder of philosophies about sex that I haven't had, really, since I was about 16. I think there are valid reasons why I haven't felt that way in such a long time, but it was fascinating to be reminded that not everyone does that.
And it made me wonder if it was something I could go back to. I don't know if there's been too much... everything... in my life to think that way any more. But I want to give it a try. I'm not resorting back to monogamy, but I am pulling back a little bit. I don't totally know how to do that, so I'm fumbling my way through it. It has already started with pulling away from a few people - one being Jacob. I ended things with him... Romantic, sexual, and platonic. It was a selfish decision on my part, but he is somewhere where he needs me in a capacity I can't provide. And it wasn't fair to either of us for me to try to string him along in hopes of sparing his feelings. I should say that he handled it well, and like the grown-up I so want him to be. But there's always a little heartache involved.
It also involves not actually having sex (intercourse, although I hate that word) unless I really want to. Maybe that seems overly simplistic, and I don't have a brilliant explanation for why I'm holding out on penetrative sex, but it's a big deal to me. I want to see if it's something I can make special again. I don't necessarily want it to be the end-all, be-all, and to be honest I don't think I'll ever be at The Pilot's level of intensity about it, but I'm working on that as a model. And appropriating it for myself, and my personality and my history. And we'll see how it goes.
And finally, perhaps the scariest part among all this re-evaluating, there are things that have remained the same. Things I'm letting myself feel instead of quashing them like I usually do. And I must admit, they're driving me a little crazy. It's hard for me to not stop myself, convince myself what I'm feeling is wrong and unreciprocated and silly. It's kind of a losing battle.
But at least no one can say I didn't try.
Showing posts with label Jacob. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jacob. Show all posts
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Break-ups in non-monogamy
Given the blowout with Edward, this is something I've been thinking about lately.
I haven't actually had much cause to end any of my non-monogamous relationships. I mean, things with nonboyfriend were always knowingly short-lived, but primarily ended because we were both leaving town. As for my other partners, well, even though I've left town (admittedly with the intention of coming back), they're still my partners, for all intents and purposes. As much as one can be without being in the same state. (Something on which my views could fill an entire other entry.) The lack of breakups are also made easier by the fact that I move across the country (and sometimes across the world) every four months. It makes for an easy break with few complications.
But in about six weeks, I'm graduating college. And moving back. For good. No more packing up my life every four months, no more transient lifestyle. And consequently, no more transient relationships. It's a thought that's made me a little nervous, especially regarding a few people, like Friend, with whom my relationship has always been necessarily secretive and aided by the fact that we COULDN'T spend much time together. There's a nagging fear in the back of my mind that he won't like me or want me when he can see me any time. Then again, many of those fears were calmed with the vacation he and I took to see the Pilot, where we spent more time together than we have in the 15 years we've known each other, and managed not only to come out unscathed, but, as far as I can tell, still quite fond of one another. These are good things. And make me think that maybe such relationships will survive me being in the same place for a somewhat extended period of time. I can't decide if I think it's strange that my being in the same place would harm my relationships or not.
But then, there are of course drawbacks to going home. Some loose ends, as it were. Some I'm not particularly worried about as I'm sure they'll tie themselves up as they see fit (nonboyfriend being the only one left there, since both Edward and P have removed themselves). But there are some others that I think will likely result in me needing to end the relationship. And I'm not very good at that.
For one, I don't have a ton of practice in relationships where breaking up has even been an option (you don't exactly break-up with a fuckbuddy, a one-night-stand or a no-strings-attached FwB). And in those relationships where breaking up has happened, I'm usually the one being left. Notably, it's historically been for something I've done wrong, but nevertheless, I'm not the one having to administer "the talk." So I don't have much practice in breaking things off with people in the first place. Save for those, like Edward, who make it easy for me to just never speak to them again.
But I do have at least one relationship - although I thought I'd tied it up - that it looks like I'll have to re-affirm my breaking off of the thing. But here's the thing. To me it seems like it might be a little more complicated to do so while still sparing feelings, given my open non-monogamy views. I don't dislike this person, he's a fine guy, we just aren't an exceptionally good match. I get the impression he really likes me, which, in the first place, makes me nervous, but I also get the impression that he isn't as comfortable with my non-monogamy and sexuality as much as he finds it a novelty. He's told me that he'd harbored a crush for me for a few years and the chance to be with me was kind of the fulfillment of a fantasy... Again, something nice to say, but it raises red flags in my I-don't-want-anyone-too-close radar.
Now, I thought I had made it clear to him that we were over when I left home this past time. We went on a goodbye date and everything (his idea). He's dated someone else in the meantime (to the facebook-official level... something he wanted me to do but that I was uncomfortable with), and has since broken up with her. I don't have details on that. But he's recently started calling me again, and today he sent me a facebook message, simply saying "Just because you are incredibly gorgeous doesn't mean you get to be on my mind all the time! ;-)"
Again, nice sentiment. But concerns me. Actually, makes me a little uncomfortable. I didn't respond to it. And I'm not sure how to make it clear to him that I'm not interested in being with him again. While still sparing his feelings. Like I said, he's a fine person, I just don't want to be in a relationship with him.
But he knows I'm non-monogamous, so the "I've met someone else" or "I'm not looking for a relationship" feels disgenuine. He knows I'm in other relationships and is ostensibly OK with that, so it seems to remove some of my reason for breaking things off with him. We only had sex once while we were together before - partially because he's somewhat proper (well, until he's topping me, ha) and partially because I didn't try as hard as I could have to work around my schedule to make time for us to be alone in my apartment/bed. The sex itself was fine. I enjoyed it. But it wasn't anything particularly special. And I certainly have better sex with my other partners on a regular basis. And, quite frankly, the kind of sex I had with him (and that we talked about having) was similar to the kind of sex Jacob and I have. But it's way hotter with Jacob. Jacob is more in-tune and receptive to me and knows my body better. He does a much better job of fulfilling those desires.
But it seems a little cruel to tell him I'm dumping him because he's not "good enough" in bed. Yeah, yeah, sex is important to me, but so are people's feelings. Believe it or not.
And then there's the fact that I would, actually, like to continue seeing him as a friend. I do mean a friend without benefits, because the benefits seem to complicate things between us... but friends, nonetheless. This is probably a minor point, because, were I to actually get this far in explaining things to him and he said he didn't think we could be friends, I would live with that. It would certainly be sad to lose a friend, but frankly, I wouldn't be crushed.
But I don't know how to approach him with all this. My honesty-is-the-best-policy seems a little heartless here, since the honest truth isn't that I don't like him, just that I don't like him ENOUGH to keep him as a partner. So. What the hell do I do?
And then as I'm writing this it's sounding like I don't think I have the option to be discerning when choosing who my partners are. Hmm. Maybe Edward got to me more than I thought he did.
I haven't actually had much cause to end any of my non-monogamous relationships. I mean, things with nonboyfriend were always knowingly short-lived, but primarily ended because we were both leaving town. As for my other partners, well, even though I've left town (admittedly with the intention of coming back), they're still my partners, for all intents and purposes. As much as one can be without being in the same state. (Something on which my views could fill an entire other entry.) The lack of breakups are also made easier by the fact that I move across the country (and sometimes across the world) every four months. It makes for an easy break with few complications.
But in about six weeks, I'm graduating college. And moving back. For good. No more packing up my life every four months, no more transient lifestyle. And consequently, no more transient relationships. It's a thought that's made me a little nervous, especially regarding a few people, like Friend, with whom my relationship has always been necessarily secretive and aided by the fact that we COULDN'T spend much time together. There's a nagging fear in the back of my mind that he won't like me or want me when he can see me any time. Then again, many of those fears were calmed with the vacation he and I took to see the Pilot, where we spent more time together than we have in the 15 years we've known each other, and managed not only to come out unscathed, but, as far as I can tell, still quite fond of one another. These are good things. And make me think that maybe such relationships will survive me being in the same place for a somewhat extended period of time. I can't decide if I think it's strange that my being in the same place would harm my relationships or not.
But then, there are of course drawbacks to going home. Some loose ends, as it were. Some I'm not particularly worried about as I'm sure they'll tie themselves up as they see fit (nonboyfriend being the only one left there, since both Edward and P have removed themselves). But there are some others that I think will likely result in me needing to end the relationship. And I'm not very good at that.
For one, I don't have a ton of practice in relationships where breaking up has even been an option (you don't exactly break-up with a fuckbuddy, a one-night-stand or a no-strings-attached FwB). And in those relationships where breaking up has happened, I'm usually the one being left. Notably, it's historically been for something I've done wrong, but nevertheless, I'm not the one having to administer "the talk." So I don't have much practice in breaking things off with people in the first place. Save for those, like Edward, who make it easy for me to just never speak to them again.
But I do have at least one relationship - although I thought I'd tied it up - that it looks like I'll have to re-affirm my breaking off of the thing. But here's the thing. To me it seems like it might be a little more complicated to do so while still sparing feelings, given my open non-monogamy views. I don't dislike this person, he's a fine guy, we just aren't an exceptionally good match. I get the impression he really likes me, which, in the first place, makes me nervous, but I also get the impression that he isn't as comfortable with my non-monogamy and sexuality as much as he finds it a novelty. He's told me that he'd harbored a crush for me for a few years and the chance to be with me was kind of the fulfillment of a fantasy... Again, something nice to say, but it raises red flags in my I-don't-want-anyone-too-close radar.
Now, I thought I had made it clear to him that we were over when I left home this past time. We went on a goodbye date and everything (his idea). He's dated someone else in the meantime (to the facebook-official level... something he wanted me to do but that I was uncomfortable with), and has since broken up with her. I don't have details on that. But he's recently started calling me again, and today he sent me a facebook message, simply saying "Just because you are incredibly gorgeous doesn't mean you get to be on my mind all the time! ;-)"
Again, nice sentiment. But concerns me. Actually, makes me a little uncomfortable. I didn't respond to it. And I'm not sure how to make it clear to him that I'm not interested in being with him again. While still sparing his feelings. Like I said, he's a fine person, I just don't want to be in a relationship with him.
But he knows I'm non-monogamous, so the "I've met someone else" or "I'm not looking for a relationship" feels disgenuine. He knows I'm in other relationships and is ostensibly OK with that, so it seems to remove some of my reason for breaking things off with him. We only had sex once while we were together before - partially because he's somewhat proper (well, until he's topping me, ha) and partially because I didn't try as hard as I could have to work around my schedule to make time for us to be alone in my apartment/bed. The sex itself was fine. I enjoyed it. But it wasn't anything particularly special. And I certainly have better sex with my other partners on a regular basis. And, quite frankly, the kind of sex I had with him (and that we talked about having) was similar to the kind of sex Jacob and I have. But it's way hotter with Jacob. Jacob is more in-tune and receptive to me and knows my body better. He does a much better job of fulfilling those desires.
But it seems a little cruel to tell him I'm dumping him because he's not "good enough" in bed. Yeah, yeah, sex is important to me, but so are people's feelings. Believe it or not.
And then there's the fact that I would, actually, like to continue seeing him as a friend. I do mean a friend without benefits, because the benefits seem to complicate things between us... but friends, nonetheless. This is probably a minor point, because, were I to actually get this far in explaining things to him and he said he didn't think we could be friends, I would live with that. It would certainly be sad to lose a friend, but frankly, I wouldn't be crushed.
But I don't know how to approach him with all this. My honesty-is-the-best-policy seems a little heartless here, since the honest truth isn't that I don't like him, just that I don't like him ENOUGH to keep him as a partner. So. What the hell do I do?
And then as I'm writing this it's sounding like I don't think I have the option to be discerning when choosing who my partners are. Hmm. Maybe Edward got to me more than I thought he did.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Love and non-monogamy.
I've spoken to a few people, and received a few comments here that have led me to think that I've given the impression that I think love and non-monogamy are mutually exclusive. I don't think that.
Not at all, actually.
I am admittedly young and as such necessarily new to expressly non-monogamous relationships. But even my limited experience thus far has been so incredibly positive that it's made me re-think my automatic imaginings of my future as a monogamous one. I have been happier, relationship-wise, in the past year or two that I've embraced polyamory then I've been in quite some time. Some of that is due to a series of particularly wonderful partners - some of whom I'm still with. Overall, they've been honest and warm and welcoming and I've learned things from them about myself and the world and life and love.
Specifically in the case of Friend, probably my most consistent partner (in that we're entirely open with one another and continue to care about each other even when we're not in the same place, and then fall back into our old routine when we are), I have never felt second-rate. I know that he has other partners, and he knows that I do as well. We talk about them. We talk about someday maybe introducing some of them to each other. I have never felt cheated out of time with him or neglected. The terms of our relationship are very clear.
And we tell one another that we love each other on a daily basis. It might not be that epic, fairy-tale OH EM GEE I LOVVVVEEEE YOU style, but it is very real. I love him very much. And I believe he feels the same about me. It's a simple matter of fact. And I'm happy when I'm with him.
And I'm happy when I'm with my other partners. I'm happy when I'm with Jacob. I know for a fact that he loves me. And I love him back. He's been there for me through quite a bit, and he brings something unique to my life. My family likes him, and that makes me happy, although that's not something I ever thought I would care about. He's sweet, and an excellent cuddler, and indulges me in all kinds of wonderful ways. Actually, he tends to spoil me. Sometimes I can't handle it, and I know that actually, in this relationship, it's usually me who's the one hesitant to say I love you. But those are my own issues.
So no, I don't see my non-monogamy as excluding love. And I don't see falling in love with someone as an automatic declaration of monogamy. In fact, it's more likely that the more I cared about someone, the more likely I would be to be honest and open with them about not being monogamous. I've cheated before, and hurt people I really love. I don't ever want to do that. This is the best way I've found to do that.
"I'm sorry I have to say it, but you look like you're sad - your smile is gone, I noticed it bad. The cure is if you let in just a little more love... I promise you this - a little's enough."
It hasn't been flawless, but no life, no relationship, ever is. But instead of saying that non-monogamous people are lacking in love, I argue the opposite - we're the lucky ones in that we're more surrounded by love than most. I can think of two, three, maybe even four people right away who I love in a romantic sense and who love me back. And there's no conflict with that. How can that not be real love?
Not at all, actually.
I am admittedly young and as such necessarily new to expressly non-monogamous relationships. But even my limited experience thus far has been so incredibly positive that it's made me re-think my automatic imaginings of my future as a monogamous one. I have been happier, relationship-wise, in the past year or two that I've embraced polyamory then I've been in quite some time. Some of that is due to a series of particularly wonderful partners - some of whom I'm still with. Overall, they've been honest and warm and welcoming and I've learned things from them about myself and the world and life and love.
Specifically in the case of Friend, probably my most consistent partner (in that we're entirely open with one another and continue to care about each other even when we're not in the same place, and then fall back into our old routine when we are), I have never felt second-rate. I know that he has other partners, and he knows that I do as well. We talk about them. We talk about someday maybe introducing some of them to each other. I have never felt cheated out of time with him or neglected. The terms of our relationship are very clear.
And we tell one another that we love each other on a daily basis. It might not be that epic, fairy-tale OH EM GEE I LOVVVVEEEE YOU style, but it is very real. I love him very much. And I believe he feels the same about me. It's a simple matter of fact. And I'm happy when I'm with him.
And I'm happy when I'm with my other partners. I'm happy when I'm with Jacob. I know for a fact that he loves me. And I love him back. He's been there for me through quite a bit, and he brings something unique to my life. My family likes him, and that makes me happy, although that's not something I ever thought I would care about. He's sweet, and an excellent cuddler, and indulges me in all kinds of wonderful ways. Actually, he tends to spoil me. Sometimes I can't handle it, and I know that actually, in this relationship, it's usually me who's the one hesitant to say I love you. But those are my own issues.
So no, I don't see my non-monogamy as excluding love. And I don't see falling in love with someone as an automatic declaration of monogamy. In fact, it's more likely that the more I cared about someone, the more likely I would be to be honest and open with them about not being monogamous. I've cheated before, and hurt people I really love. I don't ever want to do that. This is the best way I've found to do that.
"I'm sorry I have to say it, but you look like you're sad - your smile is gone, I noticed it bad. The cure is if you let in just a little more love... I promise you this - a little's enough."
It hasn't been flawless, but no life, no relationship, ever is. But instead of saying that non-monogamous people are lacking in love, I argue the opposite - we're the lucky ones in that we're more surrounded by love than most. I can think of two, three, maybe even four people right away who I love in a romantic sense and who love me back. And there's no conflict with that. How can that not be real love?
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Patterns.
All right. Three times in the past four weeks makes it a pattern, I think.
First, there was a call from nonboyfriend that was unexpectedly friendly and even fond. He sounded almost sad when I spoke about how happy I am these days. (Of course, I didn't mention that I was also exceedingly happy when I was with him, and my contented state now still probably doesn't compare. Best not to let on too much. Because while that all is true, I'm not pining for him.)
Then there was Edward, who forced his way back in my life with a series of emails and then phone calls, usually lasting multiple hours. The sentiments were as I expected - he misses me, he loves me, so on and so forth. He made some effort to guilt-trip me that I make no apologies about having been with other people since I was last with him more than a year ago. He wants me to believe that he hasn't had sex with anyone in that entire time. Now, I generally take whatever he tells me with a grain of salt, but this is just an outright lie. One of the reasons he and I are physically compatible is a comparably insatiable sexual appetite. Just like I couldn't abstain for a year without some damn good reason to do so, neither could he. And considering before this month, we hadn't spoken since last year, there's no chance he has, either. I stubbornly refused to be guilt-tripped, pointing out that he never even discussed anything remotely resembling a relationship, let alone monogamy with me. Granted, had he done so, I more than likely wouldn't have agreed, but that's beside the point.
And just this week, a boy I was dating over break (one of the three, and the only one things definitively ended with when I left. There was a goodbye date and all) sent me a facebook message telling me he can't wait to see me again. And that he misses me. And when will I be home?
I'd noticed with this third guy that about a week earlier, his facebook relationship status had changed from "in a relationship with..." to "single." And then, like clockwork, came a message to me.
Nonboyfriend told me as much when he called me. At least there, I appreciated the honesty.
And Edward, in our last phone call, told me that a girl he'd liked as "more than just a friend" had just revealed to him that she has a boyfriend.
So, what do we have here? Three recent (but past) lovers. All suddenly single or momentarily unhappy in their relationships. And who do they call? Me.
At first, I was actually flattered. Remembering back to when I was in exclusive relationships, whenever things were going sour, the first thing I'd always think of was the last person I was happy with. So in one sense, I'm flattered to be that happy memory. I took it as a testament to the fact that my honesty and genuine attempt to be easy-going has gone over well and left much better impressions than previous monogamous relationships where I tried to be whatever my partner wanted me to be.
But somewhere around the third consecutive time this happened, I started just feeling like I'm everyone's backup. Like I'm the reinforcements. The B-team you bring in when those you really want are unwilling or unable to play. And that's much harder to take as flattering.
I'm probably making too much of this, but nevertheless, I do think it counts as a pattern. And essentially, it comes off that I'm not quite good enough to be anyone's first choice. Which sucks, no matter how enthusiastic a second choice I might be. Perhaps some of this is residual issues with nonmonogamy and having trouble moving so much that I never settle down enough to establish a "primary" relationship with any partner(s). I'm always the secret, the second-hand option. Most of the time, I'm happy to be that. And to be fair, this street goes both ways. These people aren't my primaries, either. (Perhaps with the exception of nonboyfriend, who I didn't see anyone else when I was with, not because I wasn't allowed to but because I genuinely didn't want or need to.)
Still, sometimes you just want some love. And to not be a secret. Maybe that's why the cuddling with the Viking was so surprising to me. I haven't had that in some time, either because I couldn't open up enough to be comfortable with it (Jacob is always willing to cuddle, to his credit, but I have intimacy issues with him) or because people would be silly and do things like never spend the night or insist they couldn't sleep and be touching at the same time. (Again, to nonboyfriend's credit, despite his restless sleep habits, he'd make a concerted effort to keep an arm around me. But I haven't been in bed with him in almost a year, also.)
I suppose I haven't really made any shocking revelations here. I just keep saying over and over that, well, it sucks. Because it does. I don't want to always be a backup. I think I might deserve better. Someday, I hope.
First, there was a call from nonboyfriend that was unexpectedly friendly and even fond. He sounded almost sad when I spoke about how happy I am these days. (Of course, I didn't mention that I was also exceedingly happy when I was with him, and my contented state now still probably doesn't compare. Best not to let on too much. Because while that all is true, I'm not pining for him.)
Then there was Edward, who forced his way back in my life with a series of emails and then phone calls, usually lasting multiple hours. The sentiments were as I expected - he misses me, he loves me, so on and so forth. He made some effort to guilt-trip me that I make no apologies about having been with other people since I was last with him more than a year ago. He wants me to believe that he hasn't had sex with anyone in that entire time. Now, I generally take whatever he tells me with a grain of salt, but this is just an outright lie. One of the reasons he and I are physically compatible is a comparably insatiable sexual appetite. Just like I couldn't abstain for a year without some damn good reason to do so, neither could he. And considering before this month, we hadn't spoken since last year, there's no chance he has, either. I stubbornly refused to be guilt-tripped, pointing out that he never even discussed anything remotely resembling a relationship, let alone monogamy with me. Granted, had he done so, I more than likely wouldn't have agreed, but that's beside the point.
And just this week, a boy I was dating over break (one of the three, and the only one things definitively ended with when I left. There was a goodbye date and all) sent me a facebook message telling me he can't wait to see me again. And that he misses me. And when will I be home?
I'd noticed with this third guy that about a week earlier, his facebook relationship status had changed from "in a relationship with..." to "single." And then, like clockwork, came a message to me.
Nonboyfriend told me as much when he called me. At least there, I appreciated the honesty.
And Edward, in our last phone call, told me that a girl he'd liked as "more than just a friend" had just revealed to him that she has a boyfriend.
So, what do we have here? Three recent (but past) lovers. All suddenly single or momentarily unhappy in their relationships. And who do they call? Me.
At first, I was actually flattered. Remembering back to when I was in exclusive relationships, whenever things were going sour, the first thing I'd always think of was the last person I was happy with. So in one sense, I'm flattered to be that happy memory. I took it as a testament to the fact that my honesty and genuine attempt to be easy-going has gone over well and left much better impressions than previous monogamous relationships where I tried to be whatever my partner wanted me to be.
But somewhere around the third consecutive time this happened, I started just feeling like I'm everyone's backup. Like I'm the reinforcements. The B-team you bring in when those you really want are unwilling or unable to play. And that's much harder to take as flattering.
I'm probably making too much of this, but nevertheless, I do think it counts as a pattern. And essentially, it comes off that I'm not quite good enough to be anyone's first choice. Which sucks, no matter how enthusiastic a second choice I might be. Perhaps some of this is residual issues with nonmonogamy and having trouble moving so much that I never settle down enough to establish a "primary" relationship with any partner(s). I'm always the secret, the second-hand option. Most of the time, I'm happy to be that. And to be fair, this street goes both ways. These people aren't my primaries, either. (Perhaps with the exception of nonboyfriend, who I didn't see anyone else when I was with, not because I wasn't allowed to but because I genuinely didn't want or need to.)
Still, sometimes you just want some love. And to not be a secret. Maybe that's why the cuddling with the Viking was so surprising to me. I haven't had that in some time, either because I couldn't open up enough to be comfortable with it (Jacob is always willing to cuddle, to his credit, but I have intimacy issues with him) or because people would be silly and do things like never spend the night or insist they couldn't sleep and be touching at the same time. (Again, to nonboyfriend's credit, despite his restless sleep habits, he'd make a concerted effort to keep an arm around me. But I haven't been in bed with him in almost a year, also.)
I suppose I haven't really made any shocking revelations here. I just keep saying over and over that, well, it sucks. Because it does. I don't want to always be a backup. I think I might deserve better. Someday, I hope.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
V-day.
So, it's no surprise that el dia de San Valentino is upon us.
For me, it's kind of like any other day. And like I've written about before, I have random favorite holidays (Fourth of July and New Year's, for the record). But Valentine's day has never been particularly special for me. I'm short of those who avidly bemoan the artificial holiday's existence (although I'm not a huge fan of made-up and socially mandated displays of affection), but I certainly don't live for the day with my expectations delicately tied to a helium balloon, constantly rising higher.
That being said, it's been quite a while since I've actually been dating someone on Valentine's day. The last time was probably four years ago, when I was head-over-heels in love with Ex, who went to school on the opposite side of the country. I surprised him by flying from Washington (that's the state, not the district) and showing up at his door in Manhattan. It went well, all things considered. There was a massive snowstorm that dumped two feet of snow in Central Park overnight, and so the city was quiet and calm and romantic. We had celebrated our five year anniversary that December.
He left me for someone else three months later.
I'd like to think this hasn't jaded me for all time when it comes to Valentine's day. I just don't have any illusions about the holiday. And for the past few years, the kinds of relationships I've had don't lend themselves to over-romanticized displays of affection, anyway. After all, what is etiquette for someone who you're fucking, but they may or may not be in the same state, and while you tell each other you love one another, there isn't any mush involved in such statements of simple fact?
Answer: Emails containing things like this:
Compliments of Jacob, who is guilty of more mush than this on a regular occasion. I tease him about it, but he knows that sometimes it really does make me uncomfortable. So today he sent me this photo, and it made me laugh because it was so appropriate. And true. And just... how I would say things. How he and I communicate. It works.
In other, more physically proximate V-day news, I think Bear is trying to sneak a romantic weekend on me. We had standing plans to go see a movie tomorrow (my choice), and this afternoon he asked me to join him for dinner at one of my favorite places on Saturday night. We haven't gone out to dinner yet this semester (although we do it periodically in general), and it seems mildly suspect that the first time just so happens to be on Valentine's day. And it just so happens to be MY favorite restaurant. And I wouldn't be surprised if he just so happens to want to come home with me.
I'm not complaining, I just think it's funny.
And I think it's funny how he never calls me by my name anymore, only referring to me as "Love," and very rarely even by the nickname he used to call me by playfully. And today he came by while I was holed up in the multimedia lab selling my soul to Soundslides. And complimented my project and made sure I was doing OK. Nothing a regular best friend wouldn't do, but I have noticed that he's a little more gentle with me since we slept together. Then again, that's not necessarily a bad thing.
I just think it's funny.
For me, it's kind of like any other day. And like I've written about before, I have random favorite holidays (Fourth of July and New Year's, for the record). But Valentine's day has never been particularly special for me. I'm short of those who avidly bemoan the artificial holiday's existence (although I'm not a huge fan of made-up and socially mandated displays of affection), but I certainly don't live for the day with my expectations delicately tied to a helium balloon, constantly rising higher.
That being said, it's been quite a while since I've actually been dating someone on Valentine's day. The last time was probably four years ago, when I was head-over-heels in love with Ex, who went to school on the opposite side of the country. I surprised him by flying from Washington (that's the state, not the district) and showing up at his door in Manhattan. It went well, all things considered. There was a massive snowstorm that dumped two feet of snow in Central Park overnight, and so the city was quiet and calm and romantic. We had celebrated our five year anniversary that December.
He left me for someone else three months later.
I'd like to think this hasn't jaded me for all time when it comes to Valentine's day. I just don't have any illusions about the holiday. And for the past few years, the kinds of relationships I've had don't lend themselves to over-romanticized displays of affection, anyway. After all, what is etiquette for someone who you're fucking, but they may or may not be in the same state, and while you tell each other you love one another, there isn't any mush involved in such statements of simple fact?
Answer: Emails containing things like this:
Compliments of Jacob, who is guilty of more mush than this on a regular occasion. I tease him about it, but he knows that sometimes it really does make me uncomfortable. So today he sent me this photo, and it made me laugh because it was so appropriate. And true. And just... how I would say things. How he and I communicate. It works.
In other, more physically proximate V-day news, I think Bear is trying to sneak a romantic weekend on me. We had standing plans to go see a movie tomorrow (my choice), and this afternoon he asked me to join him for dinner at one of my favorite places on Saturday night. We haven't gone out to dinner yet this semester (although we do it periodically in general), and it seems mildly suspect that the first time just so happens to be on Valentine's day. And it just so happens to be MY favorite restaurant. And I wouldn't be surprised if he just so happens to want to come home with me.
I'm not complaining, I just think it's funny.
And I think it's funny how he never calls me by my name anymore, only referring to me as "Love," and very rarely even by the nickname he used to call me by playfully. And today he came by while I was holed up in the multimedia lab selling my soul to Soundslides. And complimented my project and made sure I was doing OK. Nothing a regular best friend wouldn't do, but I have noticed that he's a little more gentle with me since we slept together. Then again, that's not necessarily a bad thing.
I just think it's funny.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
a girl like that
It's been a long weekend.
Today, there was an article on the front page of the LA Times about my cousin who was murdered. It was well-written, though I wish they had quoted more sources, to get an idea about just how many people she touched. But there are some beautiful photos of her. And there are photos of the corner where she was murdered. I hadn't seen those yet. They aren't crime scene photos or anything of the like, but being able to visualize exactly where she was killed... that was harder than I imagined it would be.
Yesterday was the campus memorial for my classmate who committed suicide while we were in Spain together. Again, hard to see photos of her, hear people speak of her, see frat boys in tears and know she isn't there to comfort them. Or any of us.
And the day before that, I fucked my best friend here at school. We'll call him Bear, for a nickname I call him. Usually, that wouldn't be such a big deal, but he and I have a different friendship than many of my others. For one, he wanted to save himself for marriage. He and I hooked up about a year ago - a night of kissing, nudity and some oral sex, but no intercourse - and he got a little weird after that. We joke about it sometimes. Then, while I was in Spain, he had sex with some girl. He knew her from before, but it was a rather spontaneous decision and, to quote him, he "just wanted to get it over with." He called me immediately after. International long-distance, on his cell phone. He didn't know how to process it. He said he didn't really enjoy it, and couldn't see what all the fuss was about. He said he now felt he could actually wait til marriage, and that sex just didn't matter.
Then, on Thursday, he came back to my apartment, as he often does when we go out drinking. (He's an RA and although he's 23, of course doesn't want his residents to see him drunk.) We climbed into my bed, like we usually do. And started kissing. Which is unusual for us. We weren't shit-faced drunk, and actually talked about it, first. And decided we were going to have sex. (Apparently, in his mind, the only thing making him wait at all was that he wasn't sure if I had any condoms.) And then we did. We got home at 2am, and went to bed at 730 in the morning. The sex itself was good. He liked when I took charge, which isn't something I usually do, but this time it felt right. And then he'd be in charge. You should see my neck - he leaves DARK marks. They're STILL black. And all over my neck, and my tits, and there are even a few bruises on my arms from his hands. I wasn't expecting that from him. In my mind, he was essentially a virgin - and in my experience, virgins aren't often so... forceful.
I know this isn't as graphic as I sometimes am. I think it's because I'm not totally comfortable with what happened yet. Well, not exactly with what happened, but more with what that means. We had the Talk today. He apologized for springing it on me when I was dealing with other things, but I knew it needed to happen. We talked through what we were feeling: He's hung up on the fact that he thinks he would actually like to date me, but his family (and he) has a problem with him dating a white girl, and he knows I'm bad at relationships, and we're both moving away in four months. And I'm not sure why things feel so different with him. I still don't want a boyfriend, but I have trouble being able to file him in the friends-with-benefits, or even lovers -who-I-love, file that people like Jacob and Friend fit so perfectly into. Things are more complicated with Bear.
So I still don't know what to do. For now, I'm listening to a lot of music. And still thinking about Kirsten, because I can't escape it. And it makes everything else seem less important. I called my parents today. My dad is funding a trip to the City next week and weekend so I can see my friends there, one of whom also knew Kirsten. I need to be away from school for a little bit. Be away from everything, be somewhere I feel fabulous. That means the City, for me. Or home. But the City is MUCH easier to get to. So I'll be heading there this Thursday. Hopefully when I come back, my head will be clear.
As my iTunes was on shuffle today, I stumbled upon this song, which I don't listen to much. But as soon as I heard it, I had to replay it four times, until I had all the words memorized. It seems to describe me so perfectly. There may be another post about my conversation with Bear, and about his honest questions as to why I believe I'm always the problem in every one of my relationships. It breaks my heart a little when he's so... naive, I guess. I just don't want to hurt him, too.
But I AM a girl like that.
Today, there was an article on the front page of the LA Times about my cousin who was murdered. It was well-written, though I wish they had quoted more sources, to get an idea about just how many people she touched. But there are some beautiful photos of her. And there are photos of the corner where she was murdered. I hadn't seen those yet. They aren't crime scene photos or anything of the like, but being able to visualize exactly where she was killed... that was harder than I imagined it would be.
Yesterday was the campus memorial for my classmate who committed suicide while we were in Spain together. Again, hard to see photos of her, hear people speak of her, see frat boys in tears and know she isn't there to comfort them. Or any of us.
And the day before that, I fucked my best friend here at school. We'll call him Bear, for a nickname I call him. Usually, that wouldn't be such a big deal, but he and I have a different friendship than many of my others. For one, he wanted to save himself for marriage. He and I hooked up about a year ago - a night of kissing, nudity and some oral sex, but no intercourse - and he got a little weird after that. We joke about it sometimes. Then, while I was in Spain, he had sex with some girl. He knew her from before, but it was a rather spontaneous decision and, to quote him, he "just wanted to get it over with." He called me immediately after. International long-distance, on his cell phone. He didn't know how to process it. He said he didn't really enjoy it, and couldn't see what all the fuss was about. He said he now felt he could actually wait til marriage, and that sex just didn't matter.
Then, on Thursday, he came back to my apartment, as he often does when we go out drinking. (He's an RA and although he's 23, of course doesn't want his residents to see him drunk.) We climbed into my bed, like we usually do. And started kissing. Which is unusual for us. We weren't shit-faced drunk, and actually talked about it, first. And decided we were going to have sex. (Apparently, in his mind, the only thing making him wait at all was that he wasn't sure if I had any condoms.) And then we did. We got home at 2am, and went to bed at 730 in the morning. The sex itself was good. He liked when I took charge, which isn't something I usually do, but this time it felt right. And then he'd be in charge. You should see my neck - he leaves DARK marks. They're STILL black. And all over my neck, and my tits, and there are even a few bruises on my arms from his hands. I wasn't expecting that from him. In my mind, he was essentially a virgin - and in my experience, virgins aren't often so... forceful.
I know this isn't as graphic as I sometimes am. I think it's because I'm not totally comfortable with what happened yet. Well, not exactly with what happened, but more with what that means. We had the Talk today. He apologized for springing it on me when I was dealing with other things, but I knew it needed to happen. We talked through what we were feeling: He's hung up on the fact that he thinks he would actually like to date me, but his family (and he) has a problem with him dating a white girl, and he knows I'm bad at relationships, and we're both moving away in four months. And I'm not sure why things feel so different with him. I still don't want a boyfriend, but I have trouble being able to file him in the friends-with-benefits, or even lovers -who-I-love, file that people like Jacob and Friend fit so perfectly into. Things are more complicated with Bear.
So I still don't know what to do. For now, I'm listening to a lot of music. And still thinking about Kirsten, because I can't escape it. And it makes everything else seem less important. I called my parents today. My dad is funding a trip to the City next week and weekend so I can see my friends there, one of whom also knew Kirsten. I need to be away from school for a little bit. Be away from everything, be somewhere I feel fabulous. That means the City, for me. Or home. But the City is MUCH easier to get to. So I'll be heading there this Thursday. Hopefully when I come back, my head will be clear.
As my iTunes was on shuffle today, I stumbled upon this song, which I don't listen to much. But as soon as I heard it, I had to replay it four times, until I had all the words memorized. It seems to describe me so perfectly. There may be another post about my conversation with Bear, and about his honest questions as to why I believe I'm always the problem in every one of my relationships. It breaks my heart a little when he's so... naive, I guess. I just don't want to hurt him, too.
But I AM a girl like that.
Monday, January 26, 2009
The internet is for porn, and other random realizations.
This will, admittedly, be a disjointed post. I'm having three different conversations right now, all about similar things, but with different people. So maybe I'll just number the following grafs.
1. This evening, I learned rule 34 of the internet. After discussing the movie Coraline with Friend and a mutual friend (people are going to have to start getting fake-real names), and the beauty of real claymation, Friend asked if I thought there was claymation porn on teh interwebs. Well, even without applying rule 34, I found it. It isn't good, from what I found on a quick YouTube search, but it is pretty funny.
2. This led to a discussion of puppet sex - I mentioned Team America, he mentioned Avenue Q. Which I haven't actually seen all of, but have enough friends who are obsessed enough with Broadway musicals that I know most of the songs. I STILL have "The internet is for porn" stuck in my head.
3. And then I started chatting with my friend here at school about porn, which is always funny because he's quite sexually conservative, and while we have hooked up once and often share a bed, the sexual tension between us, in my opinion, is somewhat fabricated. Maybe it isn't from his end, but it isn't authentic from my opinion. And I'll admit that sometimes I do enjoy making him blush with my comfort of discussing sex.
4. Although as both Friend and Jacob have pointed out recently, while I have no problem discussing sexuality and sex in the more abstract, removed sense, actually discussing MY sexuality or the sex I'm having with a partner makes me terribly uncomfortable. I'm not sure if some of that, compared with how comfortable I am writing about sex here, or in other publications, has to do with my general higher level of confidence in print - I can proof what I write much more simply than proofing what I say. Nevertheless, I suppose it is a strange juxtaposition. Because I am hideously uncomfortable talking about sex while I'm having it. Even discussing my preferences or quirks makes me physically uncomfortable. So do fawning expressions of affection. Jacob knows that. Somehow, whenever we hang out, right before he leaves, he talks to me about how much he cares about me. And invariably, I end up with my back turned to him, hiding my eyes, which change color when I'm upset. I am, quite literally, physically uncomfortable. I suppose that's proof that I believe him, but it still makes me wonder if maybe there are some intimacy issues there. I wouldn't be all that surprised.
5. I was reading Essin' Em's blog, and I just LOVED this quote: "If you cannot laugh with the person you’re fucking with, then you’re fucking with the wrong person."I think it's brilliant. And as I was reading it, I was realizing that that's true with both the people I've slept with in the past few months. Friend and I's relationship is built almost entirely off our ability to be comfortable and laugh with each other (which includes the snarky, witty banter which I love so much). And Jacob is so ridiculous in his affection and, let's admit it, his indulgence of my fantasies and desires, that sometimes we also can't help but bust out laughing. I also tend to be a little disoriented after sleeping with him (from exhaustion and coming down and what not) which often leaves me as the one being ridiculous.
6. And the laughter is what was lacking from things with Edward. Who I have just let communication fade away with. There was no climactic "final scene" where I screamed at him for letting me down yet again. There was one very drunken and angry text message, but that was actually before he let me down this last time. I've simply stopped responding to him, on facebook, or text messages, or anything. And it's worth noting, for my own sake at least, that he has made all of one attempt to contact me, if it can be called that at all. (I'm not sure if a facebook "poke" counts for anything at all. Actually, no, I've decided that it isn't worth shit.) So maybe he's letting me go in the same way. I've finished the Twilight series, and I suppose that along with that ended my relationship with Edward. It seems fitting, I suppose. I won't say he'll never be in my life again, because he will, more likely than not, show up in a year trying to downplay how poor a friend he's been to me, but I'm not sure I'll be able to move past it. There's only so much a heart can take.
7. I have no female friends here at school. Literally, none at all. My roomates are both guys, and all of my close and even casual work and class acquaintances are men as well. I've always been a boy's girl, but this total lack of female companionship is something new. And a little strange. Generally, I like it, and it certainly facilitates things like three-pronged conversations about internet porn (although those aren't so out of place in my daily life anyway), but sometimes I do miss the girly-ness. And there's a notable lack of the queer women I was hanging out with before I went to Spain, although I'm hoping my involvement with the community here will bring me back into touch with them. My two best girl friends on this side of the country are both in the City right now, and I do plan on going to see them soon... my favorite artist is playing there in two weeks, and I need a break from the frozen tundra. And both my girl friends down there are decidedly feminine. One is even a full-blown, pink-wearing, blonde-haired blue-eyed sorority girl. Yes, I know that's reinforcing a stereotype, but she and The Texan, while I was in Spain, single-handedly made me reevaluate my condemnation of the university Greek system. Not too shabby. And, who knows, maybe I'll get to have coffee with the charming Roland Hulme while I'm there. What'cha say, friend?
8. I think that's the end of the randomness for now. For those of you who, by some miracle, are still reading, I appreciate it. I promise I'll get to work on more thought-provoking posts. I really am starting to turn on my brain for classes, but tomorrow is horseback riding, so that's where my head is now. God, I love riding. Stay warm, everyone.
1. This evening, I learned rule 34 of the internet. After discussing the movie Coraline with Friend and a mutual friend (people are going to have to start getting fake-real names), and the beauty of real claymation, Friend asked if I thought there was claymation porn on teh interwebs. Well, even without applying rule 34, I found it. It isn't good, from what I found on a quick YouTube search, but it is pretty funny.
2. This led to a discussion of puppet sex - I mentioned Team America, he mentioned Avenue Q. Which I haven't actually seen all of, but have enough friends who are obsessed enough with Broadway musicals that I know most of the songs. I STILL have "The internet is for porn" stuck in my head.
3. And then I started chatting with my friend here at school about porn, which is always funny because he's quite sexually conservative, and while we have hooked up once and often share a bed, the sexual tension between us, in my opinion, is somewhat fabricated. Maybe it isn't from his end, but it isn't authentic from my opinion. And I'll admit that sometimes I do enjoy making him blush with my comfort of discussing sex.
4. Although as both Friend and Jacob have pointed out recently, while I have no problem discussing sexuality and sex in the more abstract, removed sense, actually discussing MY sexuality or the sex I'm having with a partner makes me terribly uncomfortable. I'm not sure if some of that, compared with how comfortable I am writing about sex here, or in other publications, has to do with my general higher level of confidence in print - I can proof what I write much more simply than proofing what I say. Nevertheless, I suppose it is a strange juxtaposition. Because I am hideously uncomfortable talking about sex while I'm having it. Even discussing my preferences or quirks makes me physically uncomfortable. So do fawning expressions of affection. Jacob knows that. Somehow, whenever we hang out, right before he leaves, he talks to me about how much he cares about me. And invariably, I end up with my back turned to him, hiding my eyes, which change color when I'm upset. I am, quite literally, physically uncomfortable. I suppose that's proof that I believe him, but it still makes me wonder if maybe there are some intimacy issues there. I wouldn't be all that surprised.
5. I was reading Essin' Em's blog, and I just LOVED this quote: "If you cannot laugh with the person you’re fucking with, then you’re fucking with the wrong person."I think it's brilliant. And as I was reading it, I was realizing that that's true with both the people I've slept with in the past few months. Friend and I's relationship is built almost entirely off our ability to be comfortable and laugh with each other (which includes the snarky, witty banter which I love so much). And Jacob is so ridiculous in his affection and, let's admit it, his indulgence of my fantasies and desires, that sometimes we also can't help but bust out laughing. I also tend to be a little disoriented after sleeping with him (from exhaustion and coming down and what not) which often leaves me as the one being ridiculous.
6. And the laughter is what was lacking from things with Edward. Who I have just let communication fade away with. There was no climactic "final scene" where I screamed at him for letting me down yet again. There was one very drunken and angry text message, but that was actually before he let me down this last time. I've simply stopped responding to him, on facebook, or text messages, or anything. And it's worth noting, for my own sake at least, that he has made all of one attempt to contact me, if it can be called that at all. (I'm not sure if a facebook "poke" counts for anything at all. Actually, no, I've decided that it isn't worth shit.) So maybe he's letting me go in the same way. I've finished the Twilight series, and I suppose that along with that ended my relationship with Edward. It seems fitting, I suppose. I won't say he'll never be in my life again, because he will, more likely than not, show up in a year trying to downplay how poor a friend he's been to me, but I'm not sure I'll be able to move past it. There's only so much a heart can take.
7. I have no female friends here at school. Literally, none at all. My roomates are both guys, and all of my close and even casual work and class acquaintances are men as well. I've always been a boy's girl, but this total lack of female companionship is something new. And a little strange. Generally, I like it, and it certainly facilitates things like three-pronged conversations about internet porn (although those aren't so out of place in my daily life anyway), but sometimes I do miss the girly-ness. And there's a notable lack of the queer women I was hanging out with before I went to Spain, although I'm hoping my involvement with the community here will bring me back into touch with them. My two best girl friends on this side of the country are both in the City right now, and I do plan on going to see them soon... my favorite artist is playing there in two weeks, and I need a break from the frozen tundra. And both my girl friends down there are decidedly feminine. One is even a full-blown, pink-wearing, blonde-haired blue-eyed sorority girl. Yes, I know that's reinforcing a stereotype, but she and The Texan, while I was in Spain, single-handedly made me reevaluate my condemnation of the university Greek system. Not too shabby. And, who knows, maybe I'll get to have coffee with the charming Roland Hulme while I'm there. What'cha say, friend?
8. I think that's the end of the randomness for now. For those of you who, by some miracle, are still reading, I appreciate it. I promise I'll get to work on more thought-provoking posts. I really am starting to turn on my brain for classes, but tomorrow is horseback riding, so that's where my head is now. God, I love riding. Stay warm, everyone.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
HNT: Rough
I've been slacking on the HNTs the past month, so this time is going to include a series - something I've never done before. But I also needed to post these while they're still relevant. So here goes.
We're all aware by now that my particular brand of kink involves BDSM. (Aside: I was sitting at dinner with a girlfriend the other day, and she asked me what the kinkiest thing I'd ever done was, then had to clarify "Not including violent-type things." I kind of paled in comparison with that caveat.) The more I explore it, the more I find that the control aspect - specifically, giving up that control - is what really appeals to me. I also love the physical sensation, of course, and that often has very physical, ahem, responses within my body. But of the various forms of control, I found another I liked this past week.
After a particularly emotionally trying day (complete with 3.5 hour period of unconsciousness followed by mysterious stress-rash...ew.), I ended up asking a friend to spend the night with me. I knew he was a good cuddler, and wasn't at all opposed to the idea of having someone to sleep next to. He's also an exceedingly good kisser, and earlier in the evening, had lavished all kinds of attention on my neck. (A sadly under-appreciated area on my body... people usually get drawn to my tits, but putting one's mouth along my neck is almost the fastest way to reduce me to a compliant puddle of desire possible.) So, yeah, without much effort, he had me convinced that it would be worthwhile for him to stay.
I've written about him before, but as of late, I'm thinking of him as my Jacob. (Yes, more Twilight analogies.) He unquestionably loves me, and he is sweet and probably better for me than a lot of my other choices. But still, there's always something in the way. He's also the only person younger than me I'm still sleeping with.
Anyway. He spent the night. We "went to bed" early, and were actually asleep by about 3am. Here's what he did to me in the meantime:
Right shoulder, four days later
Left shoulder, four days later
Those are from his teeth. I loved that he wasn't afraid to use them. Of course, he picked up pretty quickly from the writhing, whimpering me under his mouth that it was a good thing and he should continue doing that. At one point, he was biting me on one side as he had his palm lightly curled around the other side of my neck. I liked the way it felt. So I brought my hand up to his palm, and clasped my hand around his, closing down - thereby making his hand tighten around my neck. He kept biting and tightening ever so slightly.
I dissolved.
He noticed the change in my body, and whether or not he could feel the current running through me as I thrilled at the new sensation, I don't know, but he responded appropriately. Never crushing my airway, of course (I'm lucky in that he has some experience in the area, and can show me new things while still keeping me safe), he would periodically bring his hands to my neck, my jaw, and tighten his grip. And every time, it had the same effect on me. Fire racing through my veins and fueling the desire already coursing through me. I think I caught him smiling a little, slightly evil smile as he watched me gasp in pleasure and surprise, but as soon as his hands were there, the world around me ceased to exist, so I can't be sure.
and this is from his hands. Again, four days later, you can't see that, essentially, the entirety of my neck was purple.
It.
Was.
AWESOME.
That's all I've got.
HHNT!
We're all aware by now that my particular brand of kink involves BDSM. (Aside: I was sitting at dinner with a girlfriend the other day, and she asked me what the kinkiest thing I'd ever done was, then had to clarify "Not including violent-type things." I kind of paled in comparison with that caveat.) The more I explore it, the more I find that the control aspect - specifically, giving up that control - is what really appeals to me. I also love the physical sensation, of course, and that often has very physical, ahem, responses within my body. But of the various forms of control, I found another I liked this past week.
After a particularly emotionally trying day (complete with 3.5 hour period of unconsciousness followed by mysterious stress-rash...ew.), I ended up asking a friend to spend the night with me. I knew he was a good cuddler, and wasn't at all opposed to the idea of having someone to sleep next to. He's also an exceedingly good kisser, and earlier in the evening, had lavished all kinds of attention on my neck. (A sadly under-appreciated area on my body... people usually get drawn to my tits, but putting one's mouth along my neck is almost the fastest way to reduce me to a compliant puddle of desire possible.) So, yeah, without much effort, he had me convinced that it would be worthwhile for him to stay.
I've written about him before, but as of late, I'm thinking of him as my Jacob. (Yes, more Twilight analogies.) He unquestionably loves me, and he is sweet and probably better for me than a lot of my other choices. But still, there's always something in the way. He's also the only person younger than me I'm still sleeping with.
Anyway. He spent the night. We "went to bed" early, and were actually asleep by about 3am. Here's what he did to me in the meantime:
Right shoulder, four days later
Left shoulder, four days later
Those are from his teeth. I loved that he wasn't afraid to use them. Of course, he picked up pretty quickly from the writhing, whimpering me under his mouth that it was a good thing and he should continue doing that. At one point, he was biting me on one side as he had his palm lightly curled around the other side of my neck. I liked the way it felt. So I brought my hand up to his palm, and clasped my hand around his, closing down - thereby making his hand tighten around my neck. He kept biting and tightening ever so slightly.
I dissolved.
He noticed the change in my body, and whether or not he could feel the current running through me as I thrilled at the new sensation, I don't know, but he responded appropriately. Never crushing my airway, of course (I'm lucky in that he has some experience in the area, and can show me new things while still keeping me safe), he would periodically bring his hands to my neck, my jaw, and tighten his grip. And every time, it had the same effect on me. Fire racing through my veins and fueling the desire already coursing through me. I think I caught him smiling a little, slightly evil smile as he watched me gasp in pleasure and surprise, but as soon as his hands were there, the world around me ceased to exist, so I can't be sure.
and this is from his hands. Again, four days later, you can't see that, essentially, the entirety of my neck was purple.It.
Was.
AWESOME.
That's all I've got.
HHNT!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
