So, I'm not allowed to actually have any sort of penetration this weekend... but that didn't rule out some other fun things that we did.
First of all, I haven't been totally comfortable with the 69 position before... I usually get pretty self-conscious about the angle of his face in proximity to my back end. Weird hang up, but we had never really gotten past it.
Following a couple goblets of merlot and a large glass of Alize, however, I was feeling pretty down with it.
It started out, as many good things do, with some innocent cuddling. Cuddling turned to spooning, which in turn granted easy access to my very excitable breasts. It ended with me getting naked, taking off his clothes, and disappearing under the covers where I could get more familiar with him.
At some point I twisted around, scooted back, and straddled his face... and that led to one of the greatest sexual experiences we'd yet shared.
He came. Twice. In the span of like 5 minutes. I know this because he came in my mouth, and I tasted it... and then we just kept going and he never went soft... he kind of just got less hard, and then right back to full erectness. So I just figured I imagined him coming the first time and kept going... and he came again! As soon as he did he just said, "Oh my god, what just happened? How many times did I come??!" And laid back in disbelief.
Has anyone else discovered they, or their partner, could do this? I thought it was some sort of urban myth, but the evidence was in my mouth.. and then all over my body. I just didn't think it was possible for men to have a multiple orgasm. And my man was as surprised as me.
Anyway, after the shock wore off he did turn me over and get me off too... but we were both pretty exhausted at this point (he claims he was 'twice as tired and twice as sleepy' as normal) so we napped.
Just thought I would share because I feel that this was a pretty significant event in our love lives.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
this weekend
So Susie made a comment on my last post wishing me an equally wonderful weekend (as far as amazing sex and all that). Unfortunately, I'm actually unable to get any (now that Aunt Flo is totally gone, too!)
First of all, the man has gone to Vancouver, BC with his brother for the day today. He's taking care of some family business there, so I wasn't invited along (2.5 hours both ways in a car with a brother you are very close with = plenty of time to talk about the sex we're finally having. Because everyone knew we weren't having sex. I have a blog instead lol).
Secondly, I work all day tomorrow.
And finally (and most importantly, because not much is going to deter me from getting the action I've been craving so badly), there is a 48 hour rule I have to follow.
This is my first gynocologist exam ever.... and it would be fair to say I'm a little nervous.
So 48 hours prior to your exam, you're not allowed to put ANYTHING inside your cooch. Not even feminine products, nothing. So there goes any plans I may have had for a fun sex-filled weekend (when we found the time to get naked and down to it).
And the actual exam is pretty scary... no one but my boyfriend has ever looked at/touched my girlie bits, and now there's going to be a serious intrusion on my privacy.
As a woman who has always dreamt of going into the medical profession, I have a profound respect for doctors and as a patient always try to be as easy-going and cooperative as possible. I want to be the sort of patient that I'd be happy to have myself.
Therefore I will suck up my nerves, take off my clothes, spread my legs, and gracefully allow a long, cold metal object to be shoved into me... in a completely non-sexual way.
I'll let you know how it goes.
First of all, the man has gone to Vancouver, BC with his brother for the day today. He's taking care of some family business there, so I wasn't invited along (2.5 hours both ways in a car with a brother you are very close with = plenty of time to talk about the sex we're finally having. Because everyone knew we weren't having sex. I have a blog instead lol).
Secondly, I work all day tomorrow.
And finally (and most importantly, because not much is going to deter me from getting the action I've been craving so badly), there is a 48 hour rule I have to follow.
This is my first gynocologist exam ever.... and it would be fair to say I'm a little nervous.
So 48 hours prior to your exam, you're not allowed to put ANYTHING inside your cooch. Not even feminine products, nothing. So there goes any plans I may have had for a fun sex-filled weekend (when we found the time to get naked and down to it).
And the actual exam is pretty scary... no one but my boyfriend has ever looked at/touched my girlie bits, and now there's going to be a serious intrusion on my privacy.
As a woman who has always dreamt of going into the medical profession, I have a profound respect for doctors and as a patient always try to be as easy-going and cooperative as possible. I want to be the sort of patient that I'd be happy to have myself.
Therefore I will suck up my nerves, take off my clothes, spread my legs, and gracefully allow a long, cold metal object to be shoved into me... in a completely non-sexual way.
I'll let you know how it goes.
winter break!!!
Wow, it has been a while since I last updated.
Don't blame me... it wasn't my usual laziness that came between this blog and the creative side of my brain, it was the fact that the other half of it was busy memorizing science facts that I would gleefully wash directly out after my finals.
In fact, I don't remember a damn thing that I learned this quarter... and that's exactly how I like it.
So let me just say this: the stress of finals can really wear down your will power.
As in, my man and I finally did the dirty dirty deed... many many times!
It was, UH-mazing. I can't even begin to describe it.
It wasn't just the finals stress though... I was also incredibly hormonal. I had just gotten my period. And there is nothing more frustrating than really wanting something but not being able to have it due to forces beyond your control. I posted before about sex during your period, and came to the conclusion that I don't really like it... but still, I just couldn't help myself this time. The fact that it was almost totally not an option (because of the time of month) and the fact that it had been over 3 months and I'm not a patient woman, and the total 'fuck it all' attitude that came with finals week... combined to give me some of the greatest sex I've ever had.
Also, suspiciously enough I just read this article the other day on Jezebel... and wouldn't you know it, last week my man's antiperspirant ran out!!! Before you get grossed out, let me just say that he's always very clean, and for some reason what ever natural smell he has is absolutely intoxicating to me. Very sexy, manly... ugh, I'm getting excited shivers just imagining him shirtless with me tucked in against him, breathing him in...
So anyway, the fact that finals and this awful quarter are over and that I'm finally getting laid again amount to me being a very happy woman. I have all of tomorrow off in which to read trashy romance novels, get a pedicure, tan, nap, WHATEVER... to my hearts content!!! And on Monday I have my gyno appointment... and soon thereafter my first ventures into condom-less sex. Joy.
Don't blame me... it wasn't my usual laziness that came between this blog and the creative side of my brain, it was the fact that the other half of it was busy memorizing science facts that I would gleefully wash directly out after my finals.
In fact, I don't remember a damn thing that I learned this quarter... and that's exactly how I like it.
So let me just say this: the stress of finals can really wear down your will power.
As in, my man and I finally did the dirty dirty deed... many many times!
It was, UH-mazing. I can't even begin to describe it.
It wasn't just the finals stress though... I was also incredibly hormonal. I had just gotten my period. And there is nothing more frustrating than really wanting something but not being able to have it due to forces beyond your control. I posted before about sex during your period, and came to the conclusion that I don't really like it... but still, I just couldn't help myself this time. The fact that it was almost totally not an option (because of the time of month) and the fact that it had been over 3 months and I'm not a patient woman, and the total 'fuck it all' attitude that came with finals week... combined to give me some of the greatest sex I've ever had.
Also, suspiciously enough I just read this article the other day on Jezebel... and wouldn't you know it, last week my man's antiperspirant ran out!!! Before you get grossed out, let me just say that he's always very clean, and for some reason what ever natural smell he has is absolutely intoxicating to me. Very sexy, manly... ugh, I'm getting excited shivers just imagining him shirtless with me tucked in against him, breathing him in...
So anyway, the fact that finals and this awful quarter are over and that I'm finally getting laid again amount to me being a very happy woman. I have all of tomorrow off in which to read trashy romance novels, get a pedicure, tan, nap, WHATEVER... to my hearts content!!! And on Monday I have my gyno appointment... and soon thereafter my first ventures into condom-less sex. Joy.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Part 2: boob-man
... Part 1 cont'd.
Over the summer, I had been a few months into the break-up with my man, and starting to feel extremely horny. For a while, I really just wanted to jump everything with a penis... because a girl has needs, you know?
So I was signed up for MCAT classes (the standardized test for med schools, if you didn't know), and I was definitely not expecting to be, umm, stimulated? in that course. Because, you know, the demographic of people trying to get into med school rarely include the more genetically fortunate types you see on Grey's Anatomy, etc.
The very first day, I walked down the block towards the building, and a very tall, very good looking guy happened to be walking in the same direction. He reached the door just before me, and held it open. As I thanked him, I wondered if I was in the right place. No way this guy was in my class right? Wrong.
Let me introduce you to Mr. Rugby. A 6'7" (that's right, sequined), ruggedly handsome, very well-built rugby player, he was impressive before you realize that he is also incredibly smart. Good grades, wants to become a doctor... the whole, amazing package right?
Oh, and he also came and sat right next to me. And continued to do so every day.
We were instantly flirting, and joking around and just being smart-asses. And we were also a bit inseparable for a few weeks. If one of us forgot the book, we'd share with the other, heads bent as we pored over organic chemistry (sexy right?).
It wasn't long before he invited me over to see his place. He was subletting in a house filled with guys, but his room was surprisingly clean (and smelled good). We picked up a blanket and a rugby ball and headed to the nearby park. He pushed me on the swing set, we tossed the ball around (he took off his shirt!!), and then we laid on the blanket together in the sun and talked for hours. We then went to lunch, and I called it a day.
But I wanted him.
Sure enough, next class he asked me to come over and study. "Study". When we arrived I made a pretense of bringing out my books, but he immediately reclined on his bed and made absolutely no effort to join my academic efforts. So naturally, I joined him. But, no hanky-panky! We ended up just talking, then spooning, and then napping together on his bed. Then we woke up, me curled against him with my head on his chest, him playing with my hair... but still he didn't try to kiss me. Little alarm bells were going off, but I couldn't pinpoint the reason...
Then I added him on facebook that night.
Mr. Rugby has a girlfriend!!! I was shocked... and then I was dismayed.... and then I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. They could be on break for the summer but continued stay in a relationship on facebook... they could be open to dating other people, etc. But I was starting to suspect this was the reason he wouldn't even kiss me. I decided to wait until he brought it up the next day.
I woke up, saw how beautiful and sunny and warm it was (summers ARE like that in Seattle, you know... sometimes), and donned a little cotton tank top. No bra.
Oh, how I wished I had worn a bra...
I get to class, and he greets me... and then locks eyes on my barely clad chest. And I don't think he looked up, even when class was over and he asked me back to his place to 'study' once again.
Let me tell you, it made me slightly uncomfortable to have a guy staring like that at my chest. i understand it happens all the time to girls, but if you remember, i have very small breasts. There had never been a time before this that a guy had refused to make eye contact with me because he was too busy staring at my tits. It has just never happened before... and I'm kind of glad about it now because it's frustrating to be talking to a face that's pointing another direction the whole time.
We walked to his place again, and again he lays out on his bed. No books. So I oblige, but I'm weary. He has a girlfriend... or does he? I don't know what that deal is, but I still really want to make out with him because, well, he's still really hot. Sue me.
This is where the weirdness happens. We're talking about something mundane when totally out of the blue,
Mr. Rugby, "Can I see your boobs?"
???
I'm so put off that of course, I right out refuse.
Me: "Uhh... *laughs uncomfortably* no...?!"
Mr. Rugby: "Really? Oh come on, you really won't show me?"
And I of course refuse, again. Let me now give you various examples of how he continues to ask to see my boobs. Over and over and over. And I refuse. Over and over and over. I mean, he'd drop the subject for like 5 minutes... we'd talk about something else, and then inevitably:
"Come on, I'll show you mine!"
"Why not, it's fun to be naked!"
"Just for a second, just show me them for a second."
And my absolute personal favorite,
"Let me just see one, then!"
All while staring at my breasts... who were definitely and traitorously perked up at all the attention.
At this point, I am just incredulous. I don't know why I stayed after he asked me twice... listen it may be sick, but I couldn't wrap my mind about how ridiculous it all was. I was still hoping to make-out with him, I think...
At one point, after he asked me why I wasn't flashing him, I answered with, "Because 1) I'm not drunk, 2) this isn't Mardi Gras, I'm not getting any beads, and 3) there's a natural progression to these things... you're kind of jumping the gun."
Another FAVORITE tid-bit slipped in between him imploring to see my chest, my refusals, and some small talk:
Mr. Rugby: "*sigh* I'm a boob man."
Me: "Well, I'm more of an ass guy's chick..."
And finally, when I asked him WHY he just wanted to jump right in to see them, he answered that it is 'less serious' than other things. Uh oh. This is where I figure that the guy is still really in a relationship with his girlfriend, and doesn't want to hook up with another chick... but figures looking at her tits isn't considered cheating. What's more is that all the touching, the trying to pull the straps of my shirt down (ya, even when I refused to take it off my shirt, he thought he would just 'help' me take it off anyway), the tackling, the teasing, all of the things he was pulling on me... would be completely unacceptable behavior. Like, if she found out, she would dump him. Really, what IS cheating?
I asked to be driven to my car.
We get in his car, buckle up, and he turns to me. And he says to me hopefully, "Last chance... you sure you don't want to show me?"
OH MY GOD like it would be doing MYself a favor! And how many times, really, do you have to reject someone until it becomes embarrassing, nay, comical??!!? I, literally, laughed in his face and said "NO" as emphatically as possible.
I went home, kind of in shock, replaying the day. And then I started laughing... only I would get this kind of crazy in my life.
What's better is that he continued sitting next to me for the duration of the course, and didn't at any point feel embarrassed or even apologize for that day... just pretended it didn't happen!
Sometimes i really don't get guys.
Over the summer, I had been a few months into the break-up with my man, and starting to feel extremely horny. For a while, I really just wanted to jump everything with a penis... because a girl has needs, you know?
So I was signed up for MCAT classes (the standardized test for med schools, if you didn't know), and I was definitely not expecting to be, umm, stimulated? in that course. Because, you know, the demographic of people trying to get into med school rarely include the more genetically fortunate types you see on Grey's Anatomy, etc.
The very first day, I walked down the block towards the building, and a very tall, very good looking guy happened to be walking in the same direction. He reached the door just before me, and held it open. As I thanked him, I wondered if I was in the right place. No way this guy was in my class right? Wrong.
Let me introduce you to Mr. Rugby. A 6'7" (that's right, sequined), ruggedly handsome, very well-built rugby player, he was impressive before you realize that he is also incredibly smart. Good grades, wants to become a doctor... the whole, amazing package right?
Oh, and he also came and sat right next to me. And continued to do so every day.
We were instantly flirting, and joking around and just being smart-asses. And we were also a bit inseparable for a few weeks. If one of us forgot the book, we'd share with the other, heads bent as we pored over organic chemistry (sexy right?).
It wasn't long before he invited me over to see his place. He was subletting in a house filled with guys, but his room was surprisingly clean (and smelled good). We picked up a blanket and a rugby ball and headed to the nearby park. He pushed me on the swing set, we tossed the ball around (he took off his shirt!!), and then we laid on the blanket together in the sun and talked for hours. We then went to lunch, and I called it a day.
But I wanted him.
Sure enough, next class he asked me to come over and study. "Study". When we arrived I made a pretense of bringing out my books, but he immediately reclined on his bed and made absolutely no effort to join my academic efforts. So naturally, I joined him. But, no hanky-panky! We ended up just talking, then spooning, and then napping together on his bed. Then we woke up, me curled against him with my head on his chest, him playing with my hair... but still he didn't try to kiss me. Little alarm bells were going off, but I couldn't pinpoint the reason...
Then I added him on facebook that night.
Mr. Rugby has a girlfriend!!! I was shocked... and then I was dismayed.... and then I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. They could be on break for the summer but continued stay in a relationship on facebook... they could be open to dating other people, etc. But I was starting to suspect this was the reason he wouldn't even kiss me. I decided to wait until he brought it up the next day.
I woke up, saw how beautiful and sunny and warm it was (summers ARE like that in Seattle, you know... sometimes), and donned a little cotton tank top. No bra.
Oh, how I wished I had worn a bra...
I get to class, and he greets me... and then locks eyes on my barely clad chest. And I don't think he looked up, even when class was over and he asked me back to his place to 'study' once again.
Let me tell you, it made me slightly uncomfortable to have a guy staring like that at my chest. i understand it happens all the time to girls, but if you remember, i have very small breasts. There had never been a time before this that a guy had refused to make eye contact with me because he was too busy staring at my tits. It has just never happened before... and I'm kind of glad about it now because it's frustrating to be talking to a face that's pointing another direction the whole time.
We walked to his place again, and again he lays out on his bed. No books. So I oblige, but I'm weary. He has a girlfriend... or does he? I don't know what that deal is, but I still really want to make out with him because, well, he's still really hot. Sue me.
This is where the weirdness happens. We're talking about something mundane when totally out of the blue,
Mr. Rugby, "Can I see your boobs?"
???
I'm so put off that of course, I right out refuse.
Me: "Uhh... *laughs uncomfortably* no...?!"
Mr. Rugby: "Really? Oh come on, you really won't show me?"
And I of course refuse, again. Let me now give you various examples of how he continues to ask to see my boobs. Over and over and over. And I refuse. Over and over and over. I mean, he'd drop the subject for like 5 minutes... we'd talk about something else, and then inevitably:
"Come on, I'll show you mine!"
"Why not, it's fun to be naked!"
"Just for a second, just show me them for a second."
And my absolute personal favorite,
"Let me just see one, then!"
All while staring at my breasts... who were definitely and traitorously perked up at all the attention.
At this point, I am just incredulous. I don't know why I stayed after he asked me twice... listen it may be sick, but I couldn't wrap my mind about how ridiculous it all was. I was still hoping to make-out with him, I think...
At one point, after he asked me why I wasn't flashing him, I answered with, "Because 1) I'm not drunk, 2) this isn't Mardi Gras, I'm not getting any beads, and 3) there's a natural progression to these things... you're kind of jumping the gun."
Another FAVORITE tid-bit slipped in between him imploring to see my chest, my refusals, and some small talk:
Mr. Rugby: "*sigh* I'm a boob man."
Me: "Well, I'm more of an ass guy's chick..."
And finally, when I asked him WHY he just wanted to jump right in to see them, he answered that it is 'less serious' than other things. Uh oh. This is where I figure that the guy is still really in a relationship with his girlfriend, and doesn't want to hook up with another chick... but figures looking at her tits isn't considered cheating. What's more is that all the touching, the trying to pull the straps of my shirt down (ya, even when I refused to take it off my shirt, he thought he would just 'help' me take it off anyway), the tackling, the teasing, all of the things he was pulling on me... would be completely unacceptable behavior. Like, if she found out, she would dump him. Really, what IS cheating?
I asked to be driven to my car.
We get in his car, buckle up, and he turns to me. And he says to me hopefully, "Last chance... you sure you don't want to show me?"
OH MY GOD like it would be doing MYself a favor! And how many times, really, do you have to reject someone until it becomes embarrassing, nay, comical??!!? I, literally, laughed in his face and said "NO" as emphatically as possible.
I went home, kind of in shock, replaying the day. And then I started laughing... only I would get this kind of crazy in my life.
What's better is that he continued sitting next to me for the duration of the course, and didn't at any point feel embarrassed or even apologize for that day... just pretended it didn't happen!
Sometimes i really don't get guys.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Part 1: boob-man
This was going to be a very long story, with tons of background and just a lot of details. To help y'all out (and also to give this blog a semblance of organization), I have decided to split the story into two parts. This portion will just be a nice little set-up for the more juicy Part 2... which I will write tomorrow (hopefully). So here we go.
Since this story is all about my breasts (woohoo!) let me give you a little description of my body. As for sizes, for shirts I usually wear medium, and my jeans run from 6-10 (I even have a really stretchy pair of size 4 jeans that fit), depending on the brand, but I generally fall at about an 8. I'm also nearly 5'9", so I guess my body type is somewhat Amazonian.
Now for the details: since I'm quite tall, I have really long legs and a really long torso... but I'm very curvy as well. And by curvy I mean that someone somewhere in my ancestry had to have been from Africa because I have booty. Big booty. Like the kind that warrants the cat calls and the bend-over-to-stare move from the demographic of men that truly appreciate this sort of thing.
It's big. It's round. And it's fabulous.
By this time of my life, my ass has endured so much abuse that I no longer have feeling there. When someone walks by and grabs it, smacks it, whatever it is they do.. I usually don't react because a) i didn't feel it, or b) didn't think twice about it.
At work, most of the guys and nearly all the girls I work with (I'm a part-time waitress at a big restaurant) will walk by me and grab/slap my ass on the way. Two of the guys call me 'Booty'... and my really good friend from work will describe me as 'the pretty persian girl with the great ass' to people who don't recognize me by name... and after her description suddenly remember who I am.
And, it's my man's favorite thing ever.
Enough about that, it will be slightly important to Part 2.
Now for my chest. Let's just say this... they started growing when I was 12, and then stopped at 13. That's a years worth of growth. What it means for me is that I am a sworn member of the itty-bitty-titty-committee... I think it's fair to say they're pushing a size B. More of a high A.
They're not concave, they're just a bit under-developed.
Now, since I was young I've been very self conscious about my breasts... even my little sister has outgrown me... all of my friends are bigger than me (strangely, most of my friends have enormous breasts..), and it was just an uncomfortable topic for me all my life. Also, I've had a very disgusting and disturbing experience related to my breasts that I shall not cover now (and this one is far worse than the incident in Part 2).
Now, when I first started dating my man, no one -- not even my sister, my mom, anyone -- had seen me topless after the age of 10. So I was quite nervous about letting them be explored, visually and physically, by another person. It was the one hang-up I really had about my body... generally I was pretty comfortable about everything else.
Anyways, the long and short of it is that only one man has had an all-access pass to my boobies... to touch, to see, etc. And now that they are accepted --nay, worshipped-- by the man that loves me, I'm no longer at all self-consious about them. I change freely in the locker rooms, I have changed in front of my friends...
...and I sometimes go out without a bra.
to be continued...
Since this story is all about my breasts (woohoo!) let me give you a little description of my body. As for sizes, for shirts I usually wear medium, and my jeans run from 6-10 (I even have a really stretchy pair of size 4 jeans that fit), depending on the brand, but I generally fall at about an 8. I'm also nearly 5'9", so I guess my body type is somewhat Amazonian.
Now for the details: since I'm quite tall, I have really long legs and a really long torso... but I'm very curvy as well. And by curvy I mean that someone somewhere in my ancestry had to have been from Africa because I have booty. Big booty. Like the kind that warrants the cat calls and the bend-over-to-stare move from the demographic of men that truly appreciate this sort of thing.
It's big. It's round. And it's fabulous.
By this time of my life, my ass has endured so much abuse that I no longer have feeling there. When someone walks by and grabs it, smacks it, whatever it is they do.. I usually don't react because a) i didn't feel it, or b) didn't think twice about it.
At work, most of the guys and nearly all the girls I work with (I'm a part-time waitress at a big restaurant) will walk by me and grab/slap my ass on the way. Two of the guys call me 'Booty'... and my really good friend from work will describe me as 'the pretty persian girl with the great ass' to people who don't recognize me by name... and after her description suddenly remember who I am.
And, it's my man's favorite thing ever.
Enough about that, it will be slightly important to Part 2.
Now for my chest. Let's just say this... they started growing when I was 12, and then stopped at 13. That's a years worth of growth. What it means for me is that I am a sworn member of the itty-bitty-titty-committee... I think it's fair to say they're pushing a size B. More of a high A.
They're not concave, they're just a bit under-developed.
Now, since I was young I've been very self conscious about my breasts... even my little sister has outgrown me... all of my friends are bigger than me (strangely, most of my friends have enormous breasts..), and it was just an uncomfortable topic for me all my life. Also, I've had a very disgusting and disturbing experience related to my breasts that I shall not cover now (and this one is far worse than the incident in Part 2).
Now, when I first started dating my man, no one -- not even my sister, my mom, anyone -- had seen me topless after the age of 10. So I was quite nervous about letting them be explored, visually and physically, by another person. It was the one hang-up I really had about my body... generally I was pretty comfortable about everything else.
Anyways, the long and short of it is that only one man has had an all-access pass to my boobies... to touch, to see, etc. And now that they are accepted --nay, worshipped-- by the man that loves me, I'm no longer at all self-consious about them. I change freely in the locker rooms, I have changed in front of my friends...
...and I sometimes go out without a bra.
to be continued...
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
end in sight
I'm starting to catch a cold.. it's been so long since I've been sick that I'd forgotten how truly miserable it is to be all stuffed up and having your nose run... I've got used tissues crumpled up all around my bed and I'm definitely cranky. I told my man over the phone that I wanted to use him as an electric blanket... and that I wanted to make him sick so we could be sick TOGETHER.. you know, because couples share everything ;)
We had sort of a break-through yesterday... I finally got the tangible proof I needed from him for me to almost completely let down my walls. Proof of what, you ask? Proof that he needs me, that he truly loves me, that he has made/is making the necessary adjustments in his life to support our relationship, that he cares about my feelings and about putting me first sometimes.
I won't go into details of how he went about assuring me of all these things, but it was a very mixed day; sometimes you learn the most about your relationship when you are working out the kinks.
SO, as most of you know, I have not had actual sexual intercourse for nearly 3 (!!!) months now. My body has been aching, BEGGING for it for that long, but because of the nature of our relationship, and the circumstances of my family situation, etc. I decided to hold off on the sex for a while.
(edit) I just started re-reading my old posts, searching for one explaining why exactly I'm not currently having sex... and realized I never really did write about it. There are several reasons why we have abstained;
1) I cannot physically take a birth control pill every day because I live at home and it will be discovered. It really will. And if it does, I will get kicked out. see family situation. Plus, my parents can't know that I've seen a gynecologist, and I can't use my insurance (I'm under their name) to pay for the visit or the pill anyway.
2) when we got back together after our break-up, we WERE having sex, but I wasn't quite comfortable with him, was really tight after all the non-use during our time apart, and sex wasn't very good. Plus, we were (and always have before) using condoms.. and it's just not that easy when you're not slathering on the lube or extremely excited.
3) we had a lot of work to do on our relationship... I didn't want sex to be used as a sort of 'patch' for the problems we needed to work out, like it had been when we were together before. Sex complicates things, and I certainly didn't want to have my common sense and clear thinking muddled with the closeness that comes from this intimacy. I felt like before we'd use sex as a way to feel connected when we weren't connecting outside of the bed, and I didn't want to make the same mistake again.
4) going along with 1 and in some part 2, I wanted the next time we had sex to be without a condom; ie, me being on some kind of birth control (even though this is contradicting problem 1 lol ) I'll explain in a bit.
Lucky for me, my very patient, very lovely boyfriend has gone along with me on this, and agreed that even though it is, and has been very painful and frustrating, that the decision to abstain is a sound one. And therefore the decision to END this sex-less time will be mine.
The moral of this story is that as of yesterday, there is an end in sight to this self-prescribed celibacy. I feel like our relationship is at the right point finally where sex will be a positive addition, not a crutch.
So I've set up an appointment with Planned Parenthood in about a month, and I will be paying for the visit and the birth control myself. I've decided the best option as far as the type of birth control would be the Nuvaring, a flexible ring that you only change once a month. No pills, no alarms, no worries.
And now I'm mentally preparing for the glorious world of no-condom sex to open up to me, a world I have as yet not entered, and the freedom of being able to fuck wherever and whenever I please with little-to-no clean-up... besides the sweat of exertion. :)
We had sort of a break-through yesterday... I finally got the tangible proof I needed from him for me to almost completely let down my walls. Proof of what, you ask? Proof that he needs me, that he truly loves me, that he has made/is making the necessary adjustments in his life to support our relationship, that he cares about my feelings and about putting me first sometimes.
I won't go into details of how he went about assuring me of all these things, but it was a very mixed day; sometimes you learn the most about your relationship when you are working out the kinks.
SO, as most of you know, I have not had actual sexual intercourse for nearly 3 (!!!) months now. My body has been aching, BEGGING for it for that long, but because of the nature of our relationship, and the circumstances of my family situation, etc. I decided to hold off on the sex for a while.
(edit) I just started re-reading my old posts, searching for one explaining why exactly I'm not currently having sex... and realized I never really did write about it. There are several reasons why we have abstained;
1) I cannot physically take a birth control pill every day because I live at home and it will be discovered. It really will. And if it does, I will get kicked out. see family situation. Plus, my parents can't know that I've seen a gynecologist, and I can't use my insurance (I'm under their name) to pay for the visit or the pill anyway.
2) when we got back together after our break-up, we WERE having sex, but I wasn't quite comfortable with him, was really tight after all the non-use during our time apart, and sex wasn't very good. Plus, we were (and always have before) using condoms.. and it's just not that easy when you're not slathering on the lube or extremely excited.
3) we had a lot of work to do on our relationship... I didn't want sex to be used as a sort of 'patch' for the problems we needed to work out, like it had been when we were together before. Sex complicates things, and I certainly didn't want to have my common sense and clear thinking muddled with the closeness that comes from this intimacy. I felt like before we'd use sex as a way to feel connected when we weren't connecting outside of the bed, and I didn't want to make the same mistake again.
4) going along with 1 and in some part 2, I wanted the next time we had sex to be without a condom; ie, me being on some kind of birth control (even though this is contradicting problem 1 lol ) I'll explain in a bit.
Lucky for me, my very patient, very lovely boyfriend has gone along with me on this, and agreed that even though it is, and has been very painful and frustrating, that the decision to abstain is a sound one. And therefore the decision to END this sex-less time will be mine.
The moral of this story is that as of yesterday, there is an end in sight to this self-prescribed celibacy. I feel like our relationship is at the right point finally where sex will be a positive addition, not a crutch.
So I've set up an appointment with Planned Parenthood in about a month, and I will be paying for the visit and the birth control myself. I've decided the best option as far as the type of birth control would be the Nuvaring, a flexible ring that you only change once a month. No pills, no alarms, no worries.
And now I'm mentally preparing for the glorious world of no-condom sex to open up to me, a world I have as yet not entered, and the freedom of being able to fuck wherever and whenever I please with little-to-no clean-up... besides the sweat of exertion. :)
guilty pleasures
Ok, so I'm an intelligent girl/I'm as likely to read a good book as to watch a movie, I'm nearly done with my fifth year of university taking gut-wrenchingly difficult science classes, and I listen to NPR (public radio) enough to stay caught up on current events (when I'm not watching the news).
So I wonder how exactly I've managed to get myself neck-deep involved in watching so many trashy, horrible reality TV shows.
I don't just watch them either... I'm talking, getting involved, reading about the episodes in other blogs, discussing them with friends... it's sick. I know it is.
First of all, don't get me started with America's Next Top Model (also known as ANTM... don't get it twisted). I have been watching since the 2nd cycle, and I'm hooked. I love how terribly cheesy the challenges are, how Tyra is absolutely ape-shit crazy, and all the faux drama hat goes on in that house between the models. Who are all, by the way, very unconventional looking. As in, I've tried to get my man to watch it with me, and he lost all interest after 5 minutes because, he complained, "all the chicks are ugly".
Still, you will see me glued to the TV during that hour every week, and reading the hilarious recap that Four Four does every Monday.
Ok, so Bravo is a channel that deserves an entry of it's own. I loved Project Runway last season (but this time around I just haven't gotten that into it), Top Chef (who doesn't love Padma?), and my two ABSOLUTE favorites of all time... The Real Housewives of Orange County, and My Life On the D List.
For the former: there is nothing (NOTHING) more entertaining than watch the drama that unfolds in the lives of highly plasticized, injected, toned, and colored ladies with too much money and not enough brains... Anything that happens in their love lives, with their children... man it's surreal. I eat it up.
And the latter... I. Love.Kathy. Griffin. I would turn gay for her. In fact, I sometimes wish I were a gay male so that I could be part of her posse. I'm not afraid to admit I have kind of a lesbian crush all up on her. In fact, the best present I have ever gotten was tickets to see her show for my birthday this year... my man def. knows me well. When he surprised me with the tickets, he didn't come straight out with it. He just said, "Well, I don't know if you could pass me off as gay, but..." and I flipped out. Love her.
And since I don't have cable TV at home, most of the TV shows on like MTV and things have been unavailable to me... until this year where all the episodes are online. And you can be damn sure that I have lost a scary amount of sleep catching up on seasons of shows I had never previously watched or was interested in before.
My favorites:
The Hills: I hate this show. I hate the girls on it. I hate how set-up and fake it all is. But I still freakin' love this show. Sue me.
A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila: This one is new. I have had marathon Tila sessions at home on my bed... and I'm not gonna lie. I love it. The premise of the show is that Tila Tequila is bisexual, so she has both guys AND girls competing for her love, Bachelor style. I've learned two things: 1) there are some crazy lesbian chicks out there... I'm now slightly afraid of them... BUT at the same time... 2) I'm afraid to say that I may or may not have a crush on like all the lesbians on the show. (!). I'm 100% straight, but there is just something about them that's so sexy.. especially Dani. I know, it's weird.
Anyways, if you are wondering how I manage to have a part-time job and be a full-time student and still have time to watch all this TV, all I can say is that sleep is over-rated and the internet is amazing.
So I wonder how exactly I've managed to get myself neck-deep involved in watching so many trashy, horrible reality TV shows.
I don't just watch them either... I'm talking, getting involved, reading about the episodes in other blogs, discussing them with friends... it's sick. I know it is.
First of all, don't get me started with America's Next Top Model (also known as ANTM... don't get it twisted). I have been watching since the 2nd cycle, and I'm hooked. I love how terribly cheesy the challenges are, how Tyra is absolutely ape-shit crazy, and all the faux drama hat goes on in that house between the models. Who are all, by the way, very unconventional looking. As in, I've tried to get my man to watch it with me, and he lost all interest after 5 minutes because, he complained, "all the chicks are ugly".
Still, you will see me glued to the TV during that hour every week, and reading the hilarious recap that Four Four does every Monday.
Ok, so Bravo is a channel that deserves an entry of it's own. I loved Project Runway last season (but this time around I just haven't gotten that into it), Top Chef (who doesn't love Padma?), and my two ABSOLUTE favorites of all time... The Real Housewives of Orange County, and My Life On the D List.
For the former: there is nothing (NOTHING) more entertaining than watch the drama that unfolds in the lives of highly plasticized, injected, toned, and colored ladies with too much money and not enough brains... Anything that happens in their love lives, with their children... man it's surreal. I eat it up.
And the latter... I. Love.Kathy. Griffin. I would turn gay for her. In fact, I sometimes wish I were a gay male so that I could be part of her posse. I'm not afraid to admit I have kind of a lesbian crush all up on her. In fact, the best present I have ever gotten was tickets to see her show for my birthday this year... my man def. knows me well. When he surprised me with the tickets, he didn't come straight out with it. He just said, "Well, I don't know if you could pass me off as gay, but..." and I flipped out. Love her.
And since I don't have cable TV at home, most of the TV shows on like MTV and things have been unavailable to me... until this year where all the episodes are online. And you can be damn sure that I have lost a scary amount of sleep catching up on seasons of shows I had never previously watched or was interested in before.
My favorites:
The Hills: I hate this show. I hate the girls on it. I hate how set-up and fake it all is. But I still freakin' love this show. Sue me.
A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila: This one is new. I have had marathon Tila sessions at home on my bed... and I'm not gonna lie. I love it. The premise of the show is that Tila Tequila is bisexual, so she has both guys AND girls competing for her love, Bachelor style. I've learned two things: 1) there are some crazy lesbian chicks out there... I'm now slightly afraid of them... BUT at the same time... 2) I'm afraid to say that I may or may not have a crush on like all the lesbians on the show. (!). I'm 100% straight, but there is just something about them that's so sexy.. especially Dani. I know, it's weird.
Anyways, if you are wondering how I manage to have a part-time job and be a full-time student and still have time to watch all this TV, all I can say is that sleep is over-rated and the internet is amazing.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
exhibition
Over the course of my current relationship I've discovered the joys of fooling around in semi-public places.
It started when he lived with three other guys. We were just beginning to explore each other physically, the intensity of which was exponentially increased by the fact that it was my first time exploring ANYONE physically, and for a while there it was as if we'd morphed into anxious 14 year olds, trying to do it everywhere without getting caught.
My favorite story of ours ever involves our 'taste' for all things outdoors...
We had driven around after dinner until he took me to a neighborhood park he used to play in, where we sat on a dock on the man-made lake until it got dark. As the stars started to peek out out of the darkening sky, our barely-suppressed libidos started to make their grand entrance into our evening. We started making out on the bench, then against the railing.... then we retraced our steps along the path, christening every corner with a flurry of kisses, caresses...
We got to our cars sitting near the road in the parking lot for the park, where we continued the kissing intermittent with laughter and jokes. He had me up on the trunk of my car, standing between my legs as we wrestled for dominance with our lips. Then in the back of his car, with me straddling his lap and tongues entangled.
And was we started to really get into the heat of things, a pair of headlights blared through the back of his car window... headlights paired with red and blue flashes.
We quickly straightened ourselves out, muttering curses under our breath between giggles as we realized how cliche was our situation. Cliche for middle-schoolers.
A torchlight came bobbing towards his car, in the hands of a slightly bemused police officer, who told us that public parks are closed after dusk and asked us to kindly take our leave.
Now that time was eventful, but I think we one-upped that incident the other night, when we pulled his car over in front of a house in Bill Gate's neighborhood and I went down on him in the back seat. That, my friends, is a story slightly more grown-up, but keeping with the same theme as before; I love messing around where we can get caught.
It started when he lived with three other guys. We were just beginning to explore each other physically, the intensity of which was exponentially increased by the fact that it was my first time exploring ANYONE physically, and for a while there it was as if we'd morphed into anxious 14 year olds, trying to do it everywhere without getting caught.
My favorite story of ours ever involves our 'taste' for all things outdoors...
We had driven around after dinner until he took me to a neighborhood park he used to play in, where we sat on a dock on the man-made lake until it got dark. As the stars started to peek out out of the darkening sky, our barely-suppressed libidos started to make their grand entrance into our evening. We started making out on the bench, then against the railing.... then we retraced our steps along the path, christening every corner with a flurry of kisses, caresses...
We got to our cars sitting near the road in the parking lot for the park, where we continued the kissing intermittent with laughter and jokes. He had me up on the trunk of my car, standing between my legs as we wrestled for dominance with our lips. Then in the back of his car, with me straddling his lap and tongues entangled.
And was we started to really get into the heat of things, a pair of headlights blared through the back of his car window... headlights paired with red and blue flashes.
We quickly straightened ourselves out, muttering curses under our breath between giggles as we realized how cliche was our situation. Cliche for middle-schoolers.
A torchlight came bobbing towards his car, in the hands of a slightly bemused police officer, who told us that public parks are closed after dusk and asked us to kindly take our leave.
Now that time was eventful, but I think we one-upped that incident the other night, when we pulled his car over in front of a house in Bill Gate's neighborhood and I went down on him in the back seat. That, my friends, is a story slightly more grown-up, but keeping with the same theme as before; I love messing around where we can get caught.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
new year
Sorry about the MIA status, guys... I've had a busy week.
As I let out to some of you, this past weekend I turned the big 21... and as you can imagine it was definitely interesting...
I didn't get drunk this weekend, first of all. Amazing, right? It's almost like I failed or something... but let me tell you what happened.
Friday, I had a birthday party for all of my friends. We went out to dinner as a mixed bunch, and then the legal group separated off to go downtown. But the whole night was kind of a bust.
First of all, don't want to sound spoiled, but on your birthday, isn't someone else supposed ot pay for your dinner?? Ya, I got no offers on THAT, so my dinner bill was paid by yours truly.
Second, when we got to the club we were planning on, I was the first one in... and the only one, it seemed. My man had come in after me initially, but then when he saw no one behind him he went to investigate. Apparently, the 10 dollar cover for guys was too much for one of my 'guests' (this is a Friday night, people), and so didn't want to come in. The night continued with me shivering in my silk tank top in the Seattle winter air at 11pm, walking around on my birthday searching for a club that had no cover. It was insanely ridiculous, and I was more than marginally pissed off. Forty-five minutes later, we ended up at the SAME PLACE, and the guy who refused to pay eventually just said good-bye to us at the door and left. By the way, when we could walk right in before, we had to now stand in a long-ass line waiting to get in. To the same place. We had started off at.
The night pretty much culminated with me and my man dancing in the club by ourselves and having a drink, by ourselves.
If you think that the display of cheapness by my friends boyfriend (the guy who didn't want to pay cover) was based on his absolute need to save his precious money, think again. The guy is a doctor.
ANYWAY, that night kinda blew, and I realized that all of my GOOD friends (read, the kind that won't abandon you on your birthday/be incredibly rude) were underage. That sucks because now I have to wait for all of THEM to turn 21.
Then on Saturday, I was in the care of my man... who had planned a whole 'surprise day' for us. Among the highlights; the renting of my dream car to drive around all day to our different locations, brunch at an incredibly high-class restaurant, happy hours all over downtown Seattle, many kisses exchanged at beautiful vantage points in Queen Anne, a long nap with some very intense orgasms preceding, and then the most FABULOUS present ever, tickets to see Kathy Griffin perform at the sold-out showing at the Paramount. AMAZING. This was followed by late happy hour, a few very fruity drinks and then another intense session in his bed before I left for home.
I wished my birthday had actually landed on Saturday instead... and erased some of the suckiness from Friday.
As I let out to some of you, this past weekend I turned the big 21... and as you can imagine it was definitely interesting...
I didn't get drunk this weekend, first of all. Amazing, right? It's almost like I failed or something... but let me tell you what happened.
Friday, I had a birthday party for all of my friends. We went out to dinner as a mixed bunch, and then the legal group separated off to go downtown. But the whole night was kind of a bust.
First of all, don't want to sound spoiled, but on your birthday, isn't someone else supposed ot pay for your dinner?? Ya, I got no offers on THAT, so my dinner bill was paid by yours truly.
Second, when we got to the club we were planning on, I was the first one in... and the only one, it seemed. My man had come in after me initially, but then when he saw no one behind him he went to investigate. Apparently, the 10 dollar cover for guys was too much for one of my 'guests' (this is a Friday night, people), and so didn't want to come in. The night continued with me shivering in my silk tank top in the Seattle winter air at 11pm, walking around on my birthday searching for a club that had no cover. It was insanely ridiculous, and I was more than marginally pissed off. Forty-five minutes later, we ended up at the SAME PLACE, and the guy who refused to pay eventually just said good-bye to us at the door and left. By the way, when we could walk right in before, we had to now stand in a long-ass line waiting to get in. To the same place. We had started off at.
The night pretty much culminated with me and my man dancing in the club by ourselves and having a drink, by ourselves.
If you think that the display of cheapness by my friends boyfriend (the guy who didn't want to pay cover) was based on his absolute need to save his precious money, think again. The guy is a doctor.
ANYWAY, that night kinda blew, and I realized that all of my GOOD friends (read, the kind that won't abandon you on your birthday/be incredibly rude) were underage. That sucks because now I have to wait for all of THEM to turn 21.
Then on Saturday, I was in the care of my man... who had planned a whole 'surprise day' for us. Among the highlights; the renting of my dream car to drive around all day to our different locations, brunch at an incredibly high-class restaurant, happy hours all over downtown Seattle, many kisses exchanged at beautiful vantage points in Queen Anne, a long nap with some very intense orgasms preceding, and then the most FABULOUS present ever, tickets to see Kathy Griffin perform at the sold-out showing at the Paramount. AMAZING. This was followed by late happy hour, a few very fruity drinks and then another intense session in his bed before I left for home.
I wished my birthday had actually landed on Saturday instead... and erased some of the suckiness from Friday.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
wish
sometimes all I want is to have him as close to me as possible, far enough inside of me that he could almost reach my heart...
and to stay like that forever.
and to stay like that forever.
beginning after the end
I mentioned at the beginning that my man and i have rekindled our relationship...
We were together for about 9 months, and after a particularly rough patch of his alleged depression and my distrust of his intentions with me, we broke up. Mutually, tearfully... it was an almost poetic parting.
It was also like an earthquake... where the following after-shock is the more surprising, more deadly of the forces of nature.
I try not to dwell on our past. Mostly because he made me absolutely miserable and I do not wish to relive a large portion of that time. But also because our relationship now feels so different that I don't wish to taint it with the bitterness that accompanies the thoughts of those last few months of our relationship.
This after-shock came some time past the fairly normal after-break-up reconnection... where the requisite week of having no contact whatsoever was over and we both felt the familiar urge to see each other again.
A few awkward coffee dates, to talk like strangers and ignore our history... with the slight edge of unresolved disagreement and, on my part, anger.
Then the more familiar dinners, the long walks, the conversation slowly turning more intimate, but still not in discussion of the past.
Then finally the ultimate test to any relationship... new, old, or rediscovered; the road trip. Mind, it was only a couple hours to and from the adoption center where he was having me help him pick out his future pets, but a substantial amount of time alone in a car to stimulate all sorts of conversation.
A useful bit of knowledge essential to this story; when we first started talking again, he professed his need and intention to be with me again (in a romantic and serious way) in a very lengthy discussion. Also, we had abstained from any kind of off-limits physical activities (as we were trying the 'just friends' route for a bit) until literally two days before the road trip... where an innocent bout of play-wrestling ended in a battle to tear the clothes off of the other in the smallest amount of time possible. After which we did not speak at all of the incident, nor had we repeated the act.
Anyway, the drive there was pleasant... the normal, comfortable conversation you have with the person who knows you best. When there, he introduced me to the adoption people as his girlfriend, which received a raised eyebrow on my part. On the drive back he explained that he used me a bit as a prop to show him as a more reliable and trustworthy candidate to the adoption center. Which I found awkward.
Even more awkward was my need to bring up the 'incident' from a few nights before. I began with the brilliantly contrived line of, "So, we slept together. What does that mean?"
I know, a man's most feared question, right behind "Does this make me look fat?"
But I figured, what the hey, we've known each other too long to play any games and i don't need to beat around any bushes. I just wanted some answers.
Here would have been the ideal answer to my posed question:
"badlittlegoodgirl, I love you, I want to be with you, and if you still want to be just friends, I will be alright with that. I want what you want."
Ball in my court.
What I got was a lovely:
"Err.... hmm... -pause- Well, I don't think we can ever be more than just friends."
We were together for about 9 months, and after a particularly rough patch of his alleged depression and my distrust of his intentions with me, we broke up. Mutually, tearfully... it was an almost poetic parting.
It was also like an earthquake... where the following after-shock is the more surprising, more deadly of the forces of nature.
I try not to dwell on our past. Mostly because he made me absolutely miserable and I do not wish to relive a large portion of that time. But also because our relationship now feels so different that I don't wish to taint it with the bitterness that accompanies the thoughts of those last few months of our relationship.
This after-shock came some time past the fairly normal after-break-up reconnection... where the requisite week of having no contact whatsoever was over and we both felt the familiar urge to see each other again.
A few awkward coffee dates, to talk like strangers and ignore our history... with the slight edge of unresolved disagreement and, on my part, anger.
Then the more familiar dinners, the long walks, the conversation slowly turning more intimate, but still not in discussion of the past.
Then finally the ultimate test to any relationship... new, old, or rediscovered; the road trip. Mind, it was only a couple hours to and from the adoption center where he was having me help him pick out his future pets, but a substantial amount of time alone in a car to stimulate all sorts of conversation.
A useful bit of knowledge essential to this story; when we first started talking again, he professed his need and intention to be with me again (in a romantic and serious way) in a very lengthy discussion. Also, we had abstained from any kind of off-limits physical activities (as we were trying the 'just friends' route for a bit) until literally two days before the road trip... where an innocent bout of play-wrestling ended in a battle to tear the clothes off of the other in the smallest amount of time possible. After which we did not speak at all of the incident, nor had we repeated the act.
Anyway, the drive there was pleasant... the normal, comfortable conversation you have with the person who knows you best. When there, he introduced me to the adoption people as his girlfriend, which received a raised eyebrow on my part. On the drive back he explained that he used me a bit as a prop to show him as a more reliable and trustworthy candidate to the adoption center. Which I found awkward.
Even more awkward was my need to bring up the 'incident' from a few nights before. I began with the brilliantly contrived line of, "So, we slept together. What does that mean?"
I know, a man's most feared question, right behind "Does this make me look fat?"
But I figured, what the hey, we've known each other too long to play any games and i don't need to beat around any bushes. I just wanted some answers.
Here would have been the ideal answer to my posed question:
"badlittlegoodgirl, I love you, I want to be with you, and if you still want to be just friends, I will be alright with that. I want what you want."
Ball in my court.
What I got was a lovely:
"Err.... hmm... -pause- Well, I don't think we can ever be more than just friends."
!
I can't remember a time feeling more dumb-struck than that moment. He, who initiated this whole re-kindling, couldn't imagine being more than a friend to me? When did that happen?!?
So after a very long, tense pause, I asked. "When did you know you felt this way?"
An almost frightened reply, "After the first few times we'd hung out again..."
!!!
All I could see in my head were images of me and him tumbling around in his bed two nights prior, where he panted that he loved me in my ear right before he came inside me.
And then a sick feeling of disgust, of shame, washed through me and I felt like throwing up.
It is one thing to have sex with an ex when you know it is purely breakup sex... there is a certain mentality you have when you go into that. It is another entirely when you have what you thought to be make-up sex, where the feelings well up, and you expect more from the relationship than just that night... and then find out that it was only make-up sex for you, and break-up sex for him.
I really have never felt more used.
He was still driving at this point, and I think he could sense the rage that was welling up inside of me as this new revelation churned a million dark, angry thoughts in my head... so he started trying to explain himself... much of what he said I can't remember purely because I was literally seeing red (and if he hadn't been driving, I swear I would have become physically violent, which is a rare thing to see), but one bit stood out: "A person can't change in a week, two weeks, two months..." He was referring to himself, but it resonated with me.
I hadn't changed... i was still the naive 19 year-old girl who'd fallen in love with a man not yet ready to love her the way she deserved.
When we reached my car at the end of the excruciating journey (where-in the last part of the drive consisted of him staring blank-faced at the road while I screamed my lungs out at him.. also rare, as I am not a screamer (at least during fights)), I jumped out of the vehicle, turned to stare him in the face and told him not to call me... then slammed the car door in his face.
It was 5 months before we saw each other in person again... a painful 5 months that merit a few blogs of their own. But I can tell you that 5 months IS enough to change a person.. it changed me. I'm not longer that naive girl, nor do I pretend to be. I grew a pair, as they say. Got a little rougher.
He changed as well. His father had an aneurysm which left him comatose in the hospital, and impaired to this day... he had a bad fling to try to cope with the fear of losing his parent... i think it all left him with a sense of knowing what is important, of the need to go after it, and keep it
when he gets it.
I hope.
Monday, November 12, 2007
one?
he had me lying down with my face in the mattress, biting my lip to stifle the panting.
lying next to me, one hand under my quivering body to play with my clit, one hand from behind penetrating me.
i was pushing myself againt him, wanting him deeper... my breath came shorter... the world went still as a flush creeped up to my face, and i let myself go over the edge that had been teetering so dangerously close for so long.
i cried out as the convulsions rocked through me, i rode them out while his finger was still inside me... and i gasped for air as all my muscles slowly relaxed, as the pulses came further apart and my eyes could open to look at him through the mess of hair in my face.
i could see his love there... and he saw it's reflection in me.
no better way to spend your day off than in the arms of the one.
lying next to me, one hand under my quivering body to play with my clit, one hand from behind penetrating me.
i was pushing myself againt him, wanting him deeper... my breath came shorter... the world went still as a flush creeped up to my face, and i let myself go over the edge that had been teetering so dangerously close for so long.
i cried out as the convulsions rocked through me, i rode them out while his finger was still inside me... and i gasped for air as all my muscles slowly relaxed, as the pulses came further apart and my eyes could open to look at him through the mess of hair in my face.
i could see his love there... and he saw it's reflection in me.
no better way to spend your day off than in the arms of the one.
Friday, November 9, 2007
mornings in bed
good morning everyone :) i got my ass out of bed at 5:30 this morning to take a test at school at 7:30. it's 8:30 now, i still haven't even had coffee (did i tell you i was giving up coffee? well it sucks).
you know how the studies of teenage boys report that they think the most about sex during math class? well, i'm thinking about it in my classes early in the morning too. thinking about MORNING SEX!
i don't know about you women out there, but personally, sex is an all day thing for me. not to get you too excited guys... if i had the opportunity i probably WOULD have sex all day long, but i'm not talking about the physical act of sex.
for me, foreplay starts in the morning, even by myself. a brief memory of the night before's activities, a little fantasy about the boy sitting in front of me in lecture... even taking a shower in the morning while i watch the suds slide down over my bare body.
little sensualities that build up all day long.... and then at night (if i can make it) i'm incredibly in need of release.
it's about being in the mindset of sex all the time, so my body is ready to go when i can get the opportunity.
now, this is the problem with morning sex; i haven't had the benefit of many hours of this kind of excitement. therefore, i'm not as wet/ as horny in the am.
not to mention the fact that i am the exact opposite of a morning person... i can stay up late, no problem, but even getting up in the mornings at a reasonable hour doesn't happen for me without the use of an alarm clock that i must snooze several dozen times.
and i have bad morning breath, y'all. just to be honest... and when you know that, you don't want to kiss anyone right away, all you want to do is brush/listerine.
so all of these factors add up to me not being a huge fan of am nookie. which is quite unfortunate because my man, like many other men, wakes up with an erection and is just ready to go before hes snapped out of REM sleep.
and since i'm a good sport, and not likely to give up an opportunity for sex when it arises, i will always go along with any naughty plans he has for me this early.... but i'm unlikely to orgasm without REALLY trying for it. and more likely, i'll just try to hit my man's snooze button.
~badlittlegoodgirl
ps, my man and i haven't had sex for over 2 months (!) i need to get on the pill, and soon
you know how the studies of teenage boys report that they think the most about sex during math class? well, i'm thinking about it in my classes early in the morning too. thinking about MORNING SEX!
i don't know about you women out there, but personally, sex is an all day thing for me. not to get you too excited guys... if i had the opportunity i probably WOULD have sex all day long, but i'm not talking about the physical act of sex.
for me, foreplay starts in the morning, even by myself. a brief memory of the night before's activities, a little fantasy about the boy sitting in front of me in lecture... even taking a shower in the morning while i watch the suds slide down over my bare body.
little sensualities that build up all day long.... and then at night (if i can make it) i'm incredibly in need of release.
it's about being in the mindset of sex all the time, so my body is ready to go when i can get the opportunity.
now, this is the problem with morning sex; i haven't had the benefit of many hours of this kind of excitement. therefore, i'm not as wet/ as horny in the am.
not to mention the fact that i am the exact opposite of a morning person... i can stay up late, no problem, but even getting up in the mornings at a reasonable hour doesn't happen for me without the use of an alarm clock that i must snooze several dozen times.
and i have bad morning breath, y'all. just to be honest... and when you know that, you don't want to kiss anyone right away, all you want to do is brush/listerine.
so all of these factors add up to me not being a huge fan of am nookie. which is quite unfortunate because my man, like many other men, wakes up with an erection and is just ready to go before hes snapped out of REM sleep.
and since i'm a good sport, and not likely to give up an opportunity for sex when it arises, i will always go along with any naughty plans he has for me this early.... but i'm unlikely to orgasm without REALLY trying for it. and more likely, i'll just try to hit my man's snooze button.
~badlittlegoodgirl
ps, my man and i haven't had sex for over 2 months (!) i need to get on the pill, and soon
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
aunt flo
A few things.
First, it has definitely been a while since my last blog. I hate falling off the bandwagon of posting because it makes it so much harder to get back to. Busy, busy life.
Secondly, I don't know why it makes me happy, but I love hearing about guys who like their girl to be laid back and low-key, not just in how they dress, etc. but also in personality. Because I watch television shows like 'The Hills' sometimes and wonder how any guy could stand being near those girls... they may be 'hot', but at what price? When grooming, and dressing, and shopping, and thinking about shoes and purses gets in the way of having a real life and maybe reading a newspaper or trying to lead an informed and intelligent conversation, i think the attraction just leaves. I really don't get it.
Besides, secretly i've always wished i was born in another century... where men were the only ones who shaved (or didn't) and their was no such thing as internet pornography. Because every man and their uncle watches porn on their computers, featuring size 0 girls with DD tits and a desire to have ejaculate all over their face... sets a standard for the normal girls that makes us all feel pressure to look and fuck like jenna jameson.
Another plus of living in another century would be the great big poofy dresses, the hugely poofed hair, and the inability to think for yourself (just kidding).
Anyway, I have been busy with work and school and i just got my monthly visit from Aunt Flo... right on time as usual and came with as much pain as the visit of a real relative.
I think I may hate my period even more than the next woman, and this is why. I have enormously painful cramps that leave me debilitated unless I completely over-dose on the painkillers. I am extremely hungry the whole week before, which leads to over-eating and bloating. I get extremely irritable, and I run hot and cold the whole week and cry at the drop of a dime. And the absolute worst part is that I am probably the most horny this week than any other week of my cycle.
I have tried to have sex on my period on many occasions (can't accuse me of not trying... I'm seriously begging for it the whole time). It's never really worked out.
First of all, I really get off on oral sex. Giving it, and receiving it. I can still go down on my man, no problem, which gets me super-wet... but I can't even think to ask him to return the favor when I'm bleeding. Even if I were cruel enough to ask him to do it, the thought of him actually CONSUMING what is in actuality the lining of my uterus.... *shudder* That's straight cannibalism.
Being unable yet to orgasm from straight sex (without oral involved), really ruins things for me during this month. Because fuck, I'm horny and I really want that orgasm.
So the sex itself... is messy. And you have to be careful of the sheets getting stained... so you have to put down some sort of barrier, like a towel or something... you know the more thought you put into this type of thing, the harder you work to get back in the mood.
We tried it in the shower.... shower was too small, the angle was awkward... didn't quite work.
Tried it on the bathroom floor with him on top and lying on a towel... worked, but was uncomfortable for him (it hurt his knees), and the lighting in there just SUCKED... as in, it was light enough in there to see the blood. NOT sexy.
Basically, after all the trouble we've gone through and experimenting we've done, we haven't quite figured out a way to make sex on the period fun... or even really just work. So for one week out of the month, we joke that my box is 'out of commission'
And the only way I can get off (and frequently do) is by just wearing a tampon and using a vibrator on my clit. Not the greatest climax in the world, but better than nothing and better than making a mess.
Has anyone else made sex work during this time??
~badlittlegoodgirl
ps, whoever said that having an orgasm makes your cramps go away was fucking wrong. remind me to pop a few pills before I do that again, and again, tomorrow.
pps, whoever said that EXERCISE made your cramps feel better wasn't just wrong, they were insane. there is nothing worse than exercising with cramps... not only does it make the pain worse but you get hot and sweaty and gross on top of it.
ppps, sometimes i have a million things to say but not enough room to write it and no way to make any kind of fluid blending of the topics, hence my somewhat scattered blog posts. sorry :)
First, it has definitely been a while since my last blog. I hate falling off the bandwagon of posting because it makes it so much harder to get back to. Busy, busy life.
Secondly, I don't know why it makes me happy, but I love hearing about guys who like their girl to be laid back and low-key, not just in how they dress, etc. but also in personality. Because I watch television shows like 'The Hills' sometimes and wonder how any guy could stand being near those girls... they may be 'hot', but at what price? When grooming, and dressing, and shopping, and thinking about shoes and purses gets in the way of having a real life and maybe reading a newspaper or trying to lead an informed and intelligent conversation, i think the attraction just leaves. I really don't get it.
Besides, secretly i've always wished i was born in another century... where men were the only ones who shaved (or didn't) and their was no such thing as internet pornography. Because every man and their uncle watches porn on their computers, featuring size 0 girls with DD tits and a desire to have ejaculate all over their face... sets a standard for the normal girls that makes us all feel pressure to look and fuck like jenna jameson.
Another plus of living in another century would be the great big poofy dresses, the hugely poofed hair, and the inability to think for yourself (just kidding).
Anyway, I have been busy with work and school and i just got my monthly visit from Aunt Flo... right on time as usual and came with as much pain as the visit of a real relative.
I think I may hate my period even more than the next woman, and this is why. I have enormously painful cramps that leave me debilitated unless I completely over-dose on the painkillers. I am extremely hungry the whole week before, which leads to over-eating and bloating. I get extremely irritable, and I run hot and cold the whole week and cry at the drop of a dime. And the absolute worst part is that I am probably the most horny this week than any other week of my cycle.
I have tried to have sex on my period on many occasions (can't accuse me of not trying... I'm seriously begging for it the whole time). It's never really worked out.
First of all, I really get off on oral sex. Giving it, and receiving it. I can still go down on my man, no problem, which gets me super-wet... but I can't even think to ask him to return the favor when I'm bleeding. Even if I were cruel enough to ask him to do it, the thought of him actually CONSUMING what is in actuality the lining of my uterus.... *shudder* That's straight cannibalism.
Being unable yet to orgasm from straight sex (without oral involved), really ruins things for me during this month. Because fuck, I'm horny and I really want that orgasm.
So the sex itself... is messy. And you have to be careful of the sheets getting stained... so you have to put down some sort of barrier, like a towel or something... you know the more thought you put into this type of thing, the harder you work to get back in the mood.
We tried it in the shower.... shower was too small, the angle was awkward... didn't quite work.
Tried it on the bathroom floor with him on top and lying on a towel... worked, but was uncomfortable for him (it hurt his knees), and the lighting in there just SUCKED... as in, it was light enough in there to see the blood. NOT sexy.
Basically, after all the trouble we've gone through and experimenting we've done, we haven't quite figured out a way to make sex on the period fun... or even really just work. So for one week out of the month, we joke that my box is 'out of commission'
And the only way I can get off (and frequently do) is by just wearing a tampon and using a vibrator on my clit. Not the greatest climax in the world, but better than nothing and better than making a mess.
Has anyone else made sex work during this time??
~badlittlegoodgirl
ps, whoever said that having an orgasm makes your cramps go away was fucking wrong. remind me to pop a few pills before I do that again, and again, tomorrow.
pps, whoever said that EXERCISE made your cramps feel better wasn't just wrong, they were insane. there is nothing worse than exercising with cramps... not only does it make the pain worse but you get hot and sweaty and gross on top of it.
ppps, sometimes i have a million things to say but not enough room to write it and no way to make any kind of fluid blending of the topics, hence my somewhat scattered blog posts. sorry :)
Friday, November 2, 2007
hair...
I just got my hair cut. I have very curly, brown hair and it used to be a few inches below my shoulders, and now its short in the back and longer in the front, very rihanna/victoria beckham-esque.
I think it looks great, so does the man, but I want to know what other guys think. Sexier long, or short with style?
Begs the question of how guys like girls to dress, what they find sexy.
The other day on the phone with the man, I was lamenting about how horrible I felt that day, going to school in a sweatshirt and jeans when my two good friends met up with me and mademe feel just soooo under-dressed (under-dressed for school in a sweatshirt and jeans? ya).
One of these girls works at Nordstroms and everything she wears is trendy, cute, put-together... because she only OWNS cute, trendy things (and she consequently shops all the time and has this massive wardrobe). My other friend is the type who can't afford rent or groceries but shops at those incredibly over-priced stores, like Anthropologie, on a regular basis and prides herself on her sense of style.
Nordstrom girl never leaves the house without putting 'her face' on. As in, layers of make-up. Anthropologie girl never leaves her house without her MAC eyeshadow/eyeliner/mascara-after-eyelash-curler combo.
I am lucky to remember to put on mascara or eyeliner every day.
This is not to say I'm a bad dresser, I don't take care of myself, what-not. I am a pretty girl, I have nice clothes, I know how to apply make-up... and I frequently do look nice. When it's appropriate. When I have time. When I don't have to get up at 7:30 am to commute to school, take a midterm without having time for my morning coffee.
I just can't muster up the strength or willpower to put together an outfit that early in the morning; I'm more concernd with not freezing my ass off when I walk to my car.
So anyway, I was complaining to him about how when I had gone out with Nordstroms and Anthropologie that day, I felt like the designated ugly friend (which I am most definitely not).
But in mid-sentence of my lamentation, my man interrupted me to say "Seriously... let me just tell you one thing. In high school, I always thought the girls in sweats were the hottest. For real. I wasn't interested in the girls who looked too high-maintenance."
So what is the verdict then? Is my man weird, or do other guys feel the same way? Laid-back in sweats sexy, or extremely put-together sexy? (I'm asking about on a normal day-to-day basis. I also dress to kill when I go out.)
OH and speaking of hair, how do most men like it down south? Shaved, waxed, untouched... slash how MUCH shaved/waxed?
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
I think it looks great, so does the man, but I want to know what other guys think. Sexier long, or short with style?
Begs the question of how guys like girls to dress, what they find sexy.
The other day on the phone with the man, I was lamenting about how horrible I felt that day, going to school in a sweatshirt and jeans when my two good friends met up with me and mademe feel just soooo under-dressed (under-dressed for school in a sweatshirt and jeans? ya).
One of these girls works at Nordstroms and everything she wears is trendy, cute, put-together... because she only OWNS cute, trendy things (and she consequently shops all the time and has this massive wardrobe). My other friend is the type who can't afford rent or groceries but shops at those incredibly over-priced stores, like Anthropologie, on a regular basis and prides herself on her sense of style.
Nordstrom girl never leaves the house without putting 'her face' on. As in, layers of make-up. Anthropologie girl never leaves her house without her MAC eyeshadow/eyeliner/mascara-after-eyelash-curler combo.
I am lucky to remember to put on mascara or eyeliner every day.
This is not to say I'm a bad dresser, I don't take care of myself, what-not. I am a pretty girl, I have nice clothes, I know how to apply make-up... and I frequently do look nice. When it's appropriate. When I have time. When I don't have to get up at 7:30 am to commute to school, take a midterm without having time for my morning coffee.
I just can't muster up the strength or willpower to put together an outfit that early in the morning; I'm more concernd with not freezing my ass off when I walk to my car.
So anyway, I was complaining to him about how when I had gone out with Nordstroms and Anthropologie that day, I felt like the designated ugly friend (which I am most definitely not).
But in mid-sentence of my lamentation, my man interrupted me to say "Seriously... let me just tell you one thing. In high school, I always thought the girls in sweats were the hottest. For real. I wasn't interested in the girls who looked too high-maintenance."
So what is the verdict then? Is my man weird, or do other guys feel the same way? Laid-back in sweats sexy, or extremely put-together sexy? (I'm asking about on a normal day-to-day basis. I also dress to kill when I go out.)
OH and speaking of hair, how do most men like it down south? Shaved, waxed, untouched... slash how MUCH shaved/waxed?
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
cock tease
I've recently heard the term 'cock tease' in conversation with a guy friend, as a reference to a girl who leads you on but doesn't ever get past the flirtatiousness.
When I did hear it though, my first instinct was to ask, "what's wrong with a little cock teasing?" before i realized the meaning for what it was.
My absolute favorite thing to do with the guy is a little teasing... drawing out his pleasure, never quite letting him get to the point of climax until I've had my fun :) There's a lot of power to be had when you're pleasing someone else; why relinquish that power so early?
While for me, the teasing on him is by going down on him, getting back up to kiss him, walking away to play with myself against a wall while he's watching, going back to sucking and licking him in all of the sensitive places... the way I love to be teased is somewhat different.
I want to be teased in public... a touch on my back a little lower than appropriate when standing in the line, a kiss on the neck when I'm looking at a shelf a the store, a hand brushed against my breast when he reaches for the check... etc.
And then I want to be teased in the bed. My hands pinned above my head while he very slowly kisses my lips... keeping my aching slit off-limits while he licks and pinches my nipples, all drawing out the ultimate pleasure.
I can't for the life of me imagine that this kind of cock or pussy teasing is a bad thing...
badlittlegoodgirl
When I did hear it though, my first instinct was to ask, "what's wrong with a little cock teasing?" before i realized the meaning for what it was.
My absolute favorite thing to do with the guy is a little teasing... drawing out his pleasure, never quite letting him get to the point of climax until I've had my fun :) There's a lot of power to be had when you're pleasing someone else; why relinquish that power so early?
While for me, the teasing on him is by going down on him, getting back up to kiss him, walking away to play with myself against a wall while he's watching, going back to sucking and licking him in all of the sensitive places... the way I love to be teased is somewhat different.
I want to be teased in public... a touch on my back a little lower than appropriate when standing in the line, a kiss on the neck when I'm looking at a shelf a the store, a hand brushed against my breast when he reaches for the check... etc.
And then I want to be teased in the bed. My hands pinned above my head while he very slowly kisses my lips... keeping my aching slit off-limits while he licks and pinches my nipples, all drawing out the ultimate pleasure.
I can't for the life of me imagine that this kind of cock or pussy teasing is a bad thing...
badlittlegoodgirl
Monday, October 29, 2007
throw down
i call his phone when i get to his doorstep.
he answers quietly, but i hear footsteps on the stairs inside and the door opens to me.
he lets me in, and i kick off my shoes.
i grab his shirt in my fist, and pull him behind me up the stairs to his room. i have yet to say a word.
we close the door behind us, and he swoops in for a kiss. his lips hit mine, then part and let his tongue flick into my mouth.
i pull myself against him, urging him to open his mouth wider, force him to kiss me harder, deeper.
we're groping at each other, but i step back, breaking the kiss.
i walk backwards a few feet, and start pulling off my work clothes. first, the ridiculous tie. then i unbutton my shirt and yank it off. next i pull my tank top over my head, follwed quickly by my bra.
i hear his sharp intake of breath... he wants to touch but i'm not done.
i unbutton my pants, let them fall to the ground and then kick them away. my panties are the last thing to come off... i peel them down, away from my hot, wet body.
he closes the distance between us quickly, and i'm caught up in his embrace... his hands run over my bare skin, yearning to touch everything at once and frustrated that he hasn't the patience to take his time.
in a blink, he's down to his boxer-briefs. i push his lips from mine and push him backwards onto his bed. as he sits on the edge, i sink between his legs and pull off the last of his clothing; the only thing between the meeting of naked flesh.
kneeling in the most perfect place, not wanting to be anywhere else... i take in the sight. let my eyes roam over every last erect inch of him, admiring the slight curve, the way it jumps slightly under my appreciative stare.
i stare up into his eyes right before i grasp him with both hands, start a delicious rythym i will soon play out with my mouth.
i bend forward to taste him, lick the tip where the expected wet saltiness is waiting. i pull him into my mouth and begin pumping him in.
he groans, but tells me he wants to touch me. we reposition on the bed, almost sixty nine but side by side...
he licks his fingers and slides them between my ass and down to my wet slit. he slowly inserts one, and then two into me and matches the rythym of his thrusting to my movements on him.
i have him in my mouth, and pumping with my hand. but he tells me to 'do it', the thing we wanted to try but hadn't gotten to practice.
i hold his shaft in my hand, continue stroking him up and down, but my mouth travels lower.
i lick, and then pull one of his balls into my mouth. as i pump with my hand, i suck and roll my tongue around him in my mouth.
i feel him tensing up, and he tells me he is close. i speed up my movements, and his fingers are fucking me with the same intensity.
i could feel the movement of his climax before it comes, and then I feel him release with a groan.
i release him from my mouth, but lick gently a few more seconds before getting up to kiss him.
i looooooooooove giving head especially when i know it will be my turn next :)
he answers quietly, but i hear footsteps on the stairs inside and the door opens to me.
he lets me in, and i kick off my shoes.
i grab his shirt in my fist, and pull him behind me up the stairs to his room. i have yet to say a word.
we close the door behind us, and he swoops in for a kiss. his lips hit mine, then part and let his tongue flick into my mouth.
i pull myself against him, urging him to open his mouth wider, force him to kiss me harder, deeper.
we're groping at each other, but i step back, breaking the kiss.
i walk backwards a few feet, and start pulling off my work clothes. first, the ridiculous tie. then i unbutton my shirt and yank it off. next i pull my tank top over my head, follwed quickly by my bra.
i hear his sharp intake of breath... he wants to touch but i'm not done.
i unbutton my pants, let them fall to the ground and then kick them away. my panties are the last thing to come off... i peel them down, away from my hot, wet body.
he closes the distance between us quickly, and i'm caught up in his embrace... his hands run over my bare skin, yearning to touch everything at once and frustrated that he hasn't the patience to take his time.
in a blink, he's down to his boxer-briefs. i push his lips from mine and push him backwards onto his bed. as he sits on the edge, i sink between his legs and pull off the last of his clothing; the only thing between the meeting of naked flesh.
kneeling in the most perfect place, not wanting to be anywhere else... i take in the sight. let my eyes roam over every last erect inch of him, admiring the slight curve, the way it jumps slightly under my appreciative stare.
i stare up into his eyes right before i grasp him with both hands, start a delicious rythym i will soon play out with my mouth.
i bend forward to taste him, lick the tip where the expected wet saltiness is waiting. i pull him into my mouth and begin pumping him in.
he groans, but tells me he wants to touch me. we reposition on the bed, almost sixty nine but side by side...
he licks his fingers and slides them between my ass and down to my wet slit. he slowly inserts one, and then two into me and matches the rythym of his thrusting to my movements on him.
i have him in my mouth, and pumping with my hand. but he tells me to 'do it', the thing we wanted to try but hadn't gotten to practice.
i hold his shaft in my hand, continue stroking him up and down, but my mouth travels lower.
i lick, and then pull one of his balls into my mouth. as i pump with my hand, i suck and roll my tongue around him in my mouth.
i feel him tensing up, and he tells me he is close. i speed up my movements, and his fingers are fucking me with the same intensity.
i could feel the movement of his climax before it comes, and then I feel him release with a groan.
i release him from my mouth, but lick gently a few more seconds before getting up to kiss him.
i looooooooooove giving head especially when i know it will be my turn next :)
Friday, October 26, 2007
low resolution
My little fight/fiasco with the guy remains unresolved.
I recently read in an article in Cosmo that the 'not going to bed angry' mentality is wrong... that it's actually sometimes better to sleep on it because the next morning some of the anger is gone and you can more rationally work through the problem.
I don't know how well this works for me... I couldn't fall asleep for a long time last night because my chest felt heavy and my mind was racing and I was just miserable... I had a midterm this morning for which I got up at 5:30 am, and even in the hours I tried to study before the test I couldn't focus... I was still in anguish over the fight. And my eventual reaction to him.
I told you last night how the guy had sent me two texts trying to explain himself, right? Well, basically they were texts initially apologizing for his actions, and then immediately attacking me and telling me what I did so terribly wrong to deserve his over-reaction. At least, last night this is how these texts felt to me. I was able to ignore them until an hour later he sent a third and final text to me, once again initially apologizing, but taking the moment to attack me on yet another front.
Mind you, I really didn't do anything wrong yesterday! We had a few misunderstandings that got thrown way out of proportion, and they just escalated because we were both having shitty days. But right before he blew up on me, i really wasn't dwelling on it at all.
So stupid, stupid me picks up my phone, gets into text mode, and starts writing him.
1. "Yes, i'm horrible, i ruined your day, and i deserve to have you withhold kisses from me. Got it."
Not one to leave well enough alone at this point, plus as completely enraged as I was, passive-aggressive just wasn't doing it for me, so i continue...
2. "Let me just remind you that after everyone left, you were play fighting with ME and touching me inappropriately... I sure could tell you were mad."
And here is one part of why he was mad at me.. apparently, we play-fought (i would pinch his arm, he'd pinch me back, bite me, etc... it wasn't really overdone, it was in front of the tv and across the room from everyone) too outrageously in front of his brother's fiance and brother, and even though he played along, in retrospect he though it had 'gone too far'. After everyone left, we continued 'sparring' as he called it, but trying kind of play-wrestling and pinning on the ground, where he would playfully grope me when I was in a compromised position. Again, I thought we were having fun... guess not. This was where I tried to take it to he next step by trying to make-out with him, and where he stopped me mid-kiss and sort of pushed me off.
By the way, I had just gotten started on the texts, unfortunately...
3. "Don't think that you can still treat me the way you once did and i will be ok with it. Either you want to be with me and do things differently, or not. You told me you'd be honest."
And here I open THAT can of worms... honestly, it was like finger diarrhea... I just couldn't stop at this point!
4. "AND text fighting is for pussies. Call me when you REALLY want to work something out. And yes, i am angry."
Yes, I basically called him a pussy... well i guess I called myself that too. And yes, I stated the obvious with the anger thing. If he couldn't tell at this point, then he would have had to have some serious mental disabilities. I don't know what had gotten into me.. just so tired, sick of the drama, hating being mad at him, hate him being mad at me... i kind of exploded. And finally,
5. "And now i can't fucking sleep."
That was sent about half an hour after my last text... i think i did it in hopes that he was still awake, that he would feel guilty and call me so we could work it out. Didn't happen... which makes this last text not only seem utterly useless but kind of pathetic.
So yes, here is a documented case of just how terrible I am at making a situation better, or even not horribly wrong. This morning i reread his texts with a clearer head, and the didn't seem as acerbic as they did last night.. but my texts certainly read just as angrily as when i sent them. Ouch.
I called him at work today and left a message on his cell phone going something like this,
"hey it's me, just wanted to call... to kind of apologize for last night and also tell you that we need to talk. I have work tonight so maybe you can call before... or not... *mumble mumble* ok talk to you later...."
Embarrassing that I have the ability to make this whole thing a little worse for myself, and once again completely lose any leverage I might have had in the situation.
Why do i do this???
*xX EDIT Xx*
It has been resolved... everything is back to it's normal, wonderful self.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
I recently read in an article in Cosmo that the 'not going to bed angry' mentality is wrong... that it's actually sometimes better to sleep on it because the next morning some of the anger is gone and you can more rationally work through the problem.
I don't know how well this works for me... I couldn't fall asleep for a long time last night because my chest felt heavy and my mind was racing and I was just miserable... I had a midterm this morning for which I got up at 5:30 am, and even in the hours I tried to study before the test I couldn't focus... I was still in anguish over the fight. And my eventual reaction to him.
I told you last night how the guy had sent me two texts trying to explain himself, right? Well, basically they were texts initially apologizing for his actions, and then immediately attacking me and telling me what I did so terribly wrong to deserve his over-reaction. At least, last night this is how these texts felt to me. I was able to ignore them until an hour later he sent a third and final text to me, once again initially apologizing, but taking the moment to attack me on yet another front.
Mind you, I really didn't do anything wrong yesterday! We had a few misunderstandings that got thrown way out of proportion, and they just escalated because we were both having shitty days. But right before he blew up on me, i really wasn't dwelling on it at all.
So stupid, stupid me picks up my phone, gets into text mode, and starts writing him.
1. "Yes, i'm horrible, i ruined your day, and i deserve to have you withhold kisses from me. Got it."
Not one to leave well enough alone at this point, plus as completely enraged as I was, passive-aggressive just wasn't doing it for me, so i continue...
2. "Let me just remind you that after everyone left, you were play fighting with ME and touching me inappropriately... I sure could tell you were mad."
And here is one part of why he was mad at me.. apparently, we play-fought (i would pinch his arm, he'd pinch me back, bite me, etc... it wasn't really overdone, it was in front of the tv and across the room from everyone) too outrageously in front of his brother's fiance and brother, and even though he played along, in retrospect he though it had 'gone too far'. After everyone left, we continued 'sparring' as he called it, but trying kind of play-wrestling and pinning on the ground, where he would playfully grope me when I was in a compromised position. Again, I thought we were having fun... guess not. This was where I tried to take it to he next step by trying to make-out with him, and where he stopped me mid-kiss and sort of pushed me off.
By the way, I had just gotten started on the texts, unfortunately...
3. "Don't think that you can still treat me the way you once did and i will be ok with it. Either you want to be with me and do things differently, or not. You told me you'd be honest."
And here I open THAT can of worms... honestly, it was like finger diarrhea... I just couldn't stop at this point!
4. "AND text fighting is for pussies. Call me when you REALLY want to work something out. And yes, i am angry."
Yes, I basically called him a pussy... well i guess I called myself that too. And yes, I stated the obvious with the anger thing. If he couldn't tell at this point, then he would have had to have some serious mental disabilities. I don't know what had gotten into me.. just so tired, sick of the drama, hating being mad at him, hate him being mad at me... i kind of exploded. And finally,
5. "And now i can't fucking sleep."
That was sent about half an hour after my last text... i think i did it in hopes that he was still awake, that he would feel guilty and call me so we could work it out. Didn't happen... which makes this last text not only seem utterly useless but kind of pathetic.
So yes, here is a documented case of just how terrible I am at making a situation better, or even not horribly wrong. This morning i reread his texts with a clearer head, and the didn't seem as acerbic as they did last night.. but my texts certainly read just as angrily as when i sent them. Ouch.
I called him at work today and left a message on his cell phone going something like this,
"hey it's me, just wanted to call... to kind of apologize for last night and also tell you that we need to talk. I have work tonight so maybe you can call before... or not... *mumble mumble* ok talk to you later...."
Embarrassing that I have the ability to make this whole thing a little worse for myself, and once again completely lose any leverage I might have had in the situation.
Why do i do this???
*xX EDIT Xx*
It has been resolved... everything is back to it's normal, wonderful self.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Thursday, October 25, 2007
full moon
it's funny that there's a full moon out shining clearly in the sky, because I've had a strange/awful day with the guy and I can't give any other explanation for it besides cosmic misalignment.
too weird to really discuss... and the reasons why we didn't connect just weren't really concrete either. strange how he handles things though. when he's upset over something, he tries to withhold sex. we're not HAVING sex, so he's withholding kisses...
there's something wrong in a relationship where the MAN is the one who uses sexuality as a reward/punishment. am I right? because even as a woman I have personally never done that, and even when I'm not entirely in the mood, I never push him away. it makes me feel really shitty when he does this.
he used to do it more often, but since we got back together this is the first time. funnily enough, I didn't even know he was mad. and still don't really understand why.
i ended up just turning heel on his doorstep, no goodbye.... just a "well ok whatever" and i walked to my car. he sent me two texts trying to explain the reasons for his actions, but they were pathetic and don't excuse what he did. i haven't texted him back, and i don't think I'm going to call him or have contact with him for a bit.
it's unlike me to not respond... i used to be the first one to call HIM< trying to mend things even when he was the one at fault... but after we broke up i grew a backbone and now i feel the need to use it. l
Let me just tell you that the reason he was angry at me, or annoyed with me, was so stupid that i didn't even know anything was wrong.
anyway, sorry for the rant... sometimes it helps to write it out.
goodnight
badlittlegoodgirl
too weird to really discuss... and the reasons why we didn't connect just weren't really concrete either. strange how he handles things though. when he's upset over something, he tries to withhold sex. we're not HAVING sex, so he's withholding kisses...
there's something wrong in a relationship where the MAN is the one who uses sexuality as a reward/punishment. am I right? because even as a woman I have personally never done that, and even when I'm not entirely in the mood, I never push him away. it makes me feel really shitty when he does this.
he used to do it more often, but since we got back together this is the first time. funnily enough, I didn't even know he was mad. and still don't really understand why.
i ended up just turning heel on his doorstep, no goodbye.... just a "well ok whatever" and i walked to my car. he sent me two texts trying to explain the reasons for his actions, but they were pathetic and don't excuse what he did. i haven't texted him back, and i don't think I'm going to call him or have contact with him for a bit.
it's unlike me to not respond... i used to be the first one to call HIM< trying to mend things even when he was the one at fault... but after we broke up i grew a backbone and now i feel the need to use it. l
Let me just tell you that the reason he was angry at me, or annoyed with me, was so stupid that i didn't even know anything was wrong.
anyway, sorry for the rant... sometimes it helps to write it out.
goodnight
badlittlegoodgirl
-procrastinating-
I really should be studying right now, but all I feel like doing is snuggling up with the guy and watching the Office, and forcing him to sit through Grey's Anatomy.
So in lieu of being actually productive, I will tell you a story... the horribly embarrassing story of my 'first time'.
Up until I met the guy, I was firmly convinced I wouldn't have sex before marriage. I had what I thought to be iron-clad conviction that I could hold out until then... and then I met the penis. And I really wanted to get to know him.
Long story short, after much subtle coaxing by the guy and my own body's desperate and unfulfilled yearning to be filled up, I finally relented to the system and prepared for the biggest step in my relationship to that point.
We got together, and we agreed to go to the drugstore for condoms. Which is great, but let me give you a very important piece of information regarding the guy; he had only used condoms a very few times before (he was never promiscuous, was only with one long term gf before me, and she was on the pill while they were having sex) and she had provided both the condoms and the know-how of applying one. Basically, in this area he was as inexperienced as me.
We giddily drove together to the drugstore, both very eagerly anticipating the evening, and both a little nervous (well, I was a LOT nervous). Heading into the store, we realized the impending awkwardness of going through the checker's line together with a box of condoms... so we split up and did some really immature 'recon'. He called me from across the store.. he was in the contraceptives aisle and I was blindly walking around listening to him list off the different types of condoms. We finally agreed on a box (spermicidal lubricated) and he went to buy them as I left to wait for him at the car.
When we returned to his apartment, we immediately started tearing off clothes, getting riled up... (it was incredibly difficult for me to get in the mood due to my extreme nervousness), but anyway he managed to get it up, and then we reached for the box.
Before we even started, I whipped out the directions. Sexy right? He's standing there naked, and I'm reading about 'unrolling on the shaft'.
We try to get one on.
Won't roll on.
We realize we tried to unroll it in the wrong direction, so we toss it.
Tried a new one.
Same problem, had to toss it.
Open a new wrapper, examine condom closely, feel for the right direction to unroll it...
The guy is starting to lose his hard on, so we break to get him back up.
Try again. Right direction, won't unroll!! Why?!?
Might I tell you I was starting to find it all a bit funny? In my nervous half-aroused state, I started laughing at our poor attempts to get on a condom... something any 15 year old has better experience doing than these 20-somethings.
Toss it, try another one.
Right direction, once again won't unroll...
Then it dawned on me. My well-endowed man won't fit in this normal sized condom. He's too big! Since neither one of us had really much experience (me less than him) I didn't really realize the magnitude of his man-part until this moment. He absolutely will not fit.
This I thought at the time was absolutely hilarious. I think I was hysterically rolling around on the bed, naked and cracking up as my poor guy got more and more frustrated at both his lack of experience and expertise, and the fact that the fucking thing just won't get on him.
Between bouts of giggling, I told him that I thought he was too big for the condom, and he just looked up at me, stricken, and didn't believe me and wanted to try it again.
We unwrapped a new one and tried to roll it on... with a lot of lube and a lot of force, we managed to squeeze it on past his head, but it wouldn't roll all the way down and he said it started to feel like it was cutting off his circulation.
Right at this moment, I realize we need to go get some special, big boy condoms... which meant another trip to the *same* drugstore. Embarrassing, but at this point, I had my heart set on doing the deed, so we set out again.
A much longer story short, we did end up getting magnums, they did end up fitting him, and two more wasted, unused condoms later we did end up having sex... in three different positions, no less.
After the whole debaucle at the beginning, most of my nerves had vanished because although I was the virgin, it was kind of a first time for both of us.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
So in lieu of being actually productive, I will tell you a story... the horribly embarrassing story of my 'first time'.
Up until I met the guy, I was firmly convinced I wouldn't have sex before marriage. I had what I thought to be iron-clad conviction that I could hold out until then... and then I met the penis. And I really wanted to get to know him.
Long story short, after much subtle coaxing by the guy and my own body's desperate and unfulfilled yearning to be filled up, I finally relented to the system and prepared for the biggest step in my relationship to that point.
We got together, and we agreed to go to the drugstore for condoms. Which is great, but let me give you a very important piece of information regarding the guy; he had only used condoms a very few times before (he was never promiscuous, was only with one long term gf before me, and she was on the pill while they were having sex) and she had provided both the condoms and the know-how of applying one. Basically, in this area he was as inexperienced as me.
We giddily drove together to the drugstore, both very eagerly anticipating the evening, and both a little nervous (well, I was a LOT nervous). Heading into the store, we realized the impending awkwardness of going through the checker's line together with a box of condoms... so we split up and did some really immature 'recon'. He called me from across the store.. he was in the contraceptives aisle and I was blindly walking around listening to him list off the different types of condoms. We finally agreed on a box (spermicidal lubricated) and he went to buy them as I left to wait for him at the car.
When we returned to his apartment, we immediately started tearing off clothes, getting riled up... (it was incredibly difficult for me to get in the mood due to my extreme nervousness), but anyway he managed to get it up, and then we reached for the box.
Before we even started, I whipped out the directions. Sexy right? He's standing there naked, and I'm reading about 'unrolling on the shaft'.
We try to get one on.
Won't roll on.
We realize we tried to unroll it in the wrong direction, so we toss it.
Tried a new one.
Same problem, had to toss it.
Open a new wrapper, examine condom closely, feel for the right direction to unroll it...
The guy is starting to lose his hard on, so we break to get him back up.
Try again. Right direction, won't unroll!! Why?!?
Might I tell you I was starting to find it all a bit funny? In my nervous half-aroused state, I started laughing at our poor attempts to get on a condom... something any 15 year old has better experience doing than these 20-somethings.
Toss it, try another one.
Right direction, once again won't unroll...
Then it dawned on me. My well-endowed man won't fit in this normal sized condom. He's too big! Since neither one of us had really much experience (me less than him) I didn't really realize the magnitude of his man-part until this moment. He absolutely will not fit.
This I thought at the time was absolutely hilarious. I think I was hysterically rolling around on the bed, naked and cracking up as my poor guy got more and more frustrated at both his lack of experience and expertise, and the fact that the fucking thing just won't get on him.
Between bouts of giggling, I told him that I thought he was too big for the condom, and he just looked up at me, stricken, and didn't believe me and wanted to try it again.
We unwrapped a new one and tried to roll it on... with a lot of lube and a lot of force, we managed to squeeze it on past his head, but it wouldn't roll all the way down and he said it started to feel like it was cutting off his circulation.
Right at this moment, I realize we need to go get some special, big boy condoms... which meant another trip to the *same* drugstore. Embarrassing, but at this point, I had my heart set on doing the deed, so we set out again.
A much longer story short, we did end up getting magnums, they did end up fitting him, and two more wasted, unused condoms later we did end up having sex... in three different positions, no less.
After the whole debaucle at the beginning, most of my nerves had vanished because although I was the virgin, it was kind of a first time for both of us.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
lazy, tired, but oh sooo excited...
I cannot walk today.
I can't climb stairs without gripping the railings, and I can't sit down without a wince, and I'm moaning if I have to move anywhere further than ten feet away.
In short, I guess I'm a bit out of shape. Granted, it was a very difficult trail and I did climb over 3000 vertical feet over 4 miles (and then back down), but still.
My man tried to make me feel better... apparently he believes that all that stress and strain and out-of-this-world pain that came with our climb would help us in the quest for better sex. I reminded him that we're currently not having sex, and he replied that we are training for the future.
How will climbing a mountain help our sex life? Well apparently it does make me horny to be THAT over-stimulated, and I guess it helps with cardio endurance... I'll just say I"m not ruling out the need for this type of training for our impending 'marathon'.
So today I'm just pretty much dead, but for some reason, although I can't really move... I'm still really excited and have been all day! I came home, laid in bed... then started touching myself, and before you know it I've climaxed.
Ok, great... now I feel really relaxed... my bed is really quite comfortable, and my fuzzy comforter sure is warm...
Bam! I'm asleep... I think I was gone for nearly four hours, but the best part was (and maybe this is because I fell asleep directly after masturbating) that I had maybe three or four DIFFERENT sex dreams during this nap! Each vivid enough so that I would wake up slightly because of a 'nocturnal' orgasm before falling back down into another equally satisfying fantasy.
Even though I could fell myself peaking after each of these dreams (that's what was waking me up) I was still incredibly horny when I finally woke up. So believe it or not, when I was still coming to, i began touching myself and came again!!
All before 6pm. I don't know whats gotten into me, but i know what's gotten into my vibrator; a fresh set of batteries.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
I can't climb stairs without gripping the railings, and I can't sit down without a wince, and I'm moaning if I have to move anywhere further than ten feet away.
In short, I guess I'm a bit out of shape. Granted, it was a very difficult trail and I did climb over 3000 vertical feet over 4 miles (and then back down), but still.
My man tried to make me feel better... apparently he believes that all that stress and strain and out-of-this-world pain that came with our climb would help us in the quest for better sex. I reminded him that we're currently not having sex, and he replied that we are training for the future.
How will climbing a mountain help our sex life? Well apparently it does make me horny to be THAT over-stimulated, and I guess it helps with cardio endurance... I'll just say I"m not ruling out the need for this type of training for our impending 'marathon'.
So today I'm just pretty much dead, but for some reason, although I can't really move... I'm still really excited and have been all day! I came home, laid in bed... then started touching myself, and before you know it I've climaxed.
Ok, great... now I feel really relaxed... my bed is really quite comfortable, and my fuzzy comforter sure is warm...
Bam! I'm asleep... I think I was gone for nearly four hours, but the best part was (and maybe this is because I fell asleep directly after masturbating) that I had maybe three or four DIFFERENT sex dreams during this nap! Each vivid enough so that I would wake up slightly because of a 'nocturnal' orgasm before falling back down into another equally satisfying fantasy.
Even though I could fell myself peaking after each of these dreams (that's what was waking me up) I was still incredibly horny when I finally woke up. So believe it or not, when I was still coming to, i began touching myself and came again!!
All before 6pm. I don't know whats gotten into me, but i know what's gotten into my vibrator; a fresh set of batteries.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Mountain Climber!
I went hiking today with my man, and it was by far the worst beating my body has gotten in quite some time.
Four miles straight up a mountain, four miles back down... the location was the man's choice, and I had blindly agreed.
Five hours and several shaking limbs later, we returned to the trailhead... exhausted.
I was horny as fuck though, for some odd reason. It could have been the crisp mountain air, the incredible high we had gotten from making it to the top, the picturesque landscape the view afforded us, or simply the fact that all that exercise had blood circulating in all the right areas... but as I kissed a sweet peck (peck!) of congratulations to him at the bottom, I could FEEL myself getting wet.
We drove back to his place, showered together (which was very necessary after all the sweating) and then hopped in bed.
Like I said, we're currently not having sex, for several reasons, but we are at least getting each other off orally. Anyways, after around 3 short minutes of kissing, I was just writhing underneath him... and when he went down on me, I kid you not I climaxed within 5 minutes.
That shit is fast for me... i haven't been ble to climax in less than five minutes since we first really started fooling around more than a year ago, i generally take closer to 15 to reach the big O most days! I was left shaking and flushed for the next 10 minutes, and then returned the favor.
Moral of the story is: kick your ass on the hardest mountain trail you can find, and then get freaky. Best orgasm ever.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Four miles straight up a mountain, four miles back down... the location was the man's choice, and I had blindly agreed.
Five hours and several shaking limbs later, we returned to the trailhead... exhausted.
I was horny as fuck though, for some odd reason. It could have been the crisp mountain air, the incredible high we had gotten from making it to the top, the picturesque landscape the view afforded us, or simply the fact that all that exercise had blood circulating in all the right areas... but as I kissed a sweet peck (peck!) of congratulations to him at the bottom, I could FEEL myself getting wet.
We drove back to his place, showered together (which was very necessary after all the sweating) and then hopped in bed.
Like I said, we're currently not having sex, for several reasons, but we are at least getting each other off orally. Anyways, after around 3 short minutes of kissing, I was just writhing underneath him... and when he went down on me, I kid you not I climaxed within 5 minutes.
That shit is fast for me... i haven't been ble to climax in less than five minutes since we first really started fooling around more than a year ago, i generally take closer to 15 to reach the big O most days! I was left shaking and flushed for the next 10 minutes, and then returned the favor.
Moral of the story is: kick your ass on the hardest mountain trail you can find, and then get freaky. Best orgasm ever.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Monday, October 22, 2007
live by The Mag
everything I've ever needed to know I learned from Cosmo.
maybe that's a bit extreme, but in all seriousness, it has been my primary source of information regarding fashion, style, men, and especially sex.
Before I started dating my current boyfriend, I was completely and totally inexperienced physically, and inexperienced in reltionships in general. But the amazing part was that I had lived vicariously through so many OTHER relationships, had listened to so much advice regarding behavior to situations in a relationship, and had read all the sex advice it's possible to absorb from all articles I got my hands on, that when the real deal came along I was totally prepared for battle.
I knew the right things to say, the right things to do, and all the right tricks to play in the bedroom. It was like I had taken and aced a class on relationships before ever having experienced on first-hand.
One day I was going down on my man, and then lubed up my hands, gripped him, and started twisting in opposie directions on his shaft while I was still taking care of him with my mouth. He gasped and asked me where I'd learned that from, and I smiled slightly and replied, "Cosmo."
At one point he confided that he didn't quite believe that I was a virgin when we met, and the thought was aided by the fact that whn we first did have sex, after the initial 10 seconds of discomfort, we went on to fuck in three different positions.
I firmly believe that if every man subscribed to Cosmo every month, that some of their confusion about women would be cleared up, and we could all coexist in a more peaceful and enlightened way.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
maybe that's a bit extreme, but in all seriousness, it has been my primary source of information regarding fashion, style, men, and especially sex.
Before I started dating my current boyfriend, I was completely and totally inexperienced physically, and inexperienced in reltionships in general. But the amazing part was that I had lived vicariously through so many OTHER relationships, had listened to so much advice regarding behavior to situations in a relationship, and had read all the sex advice it's possible to absorb from all articles I got my hands on, that when the real deal came along I was totally prepared for battle.
I knew the right things to say, the right things to do, and all the right tricks to play in the bedroom. It was like I had taken and aced a class on relationships before ever having experienced on first-hand.
One day I was going down on my man, and then lubed up my hands, gripped him, and started twisting in opposie directions on his shaft while I was still taking care of him with my mouth. He gasped and asked me where I'd learned that from, and I smiled slightly and replied, "Cosmo."
At one point he confided that he didn't quite believe that I was a virgin when we met, and the thought was aided by the fact that whn we first did have sex, after the initial 10 seconds of discomfort, we went on to fuck in three different positions.
I firmly believe that if every man subscribed to Cosmo every month, that some of their confusion about women would be cleared up, and we could all coexist in a more peaceful and enlightened way.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Friday, October 19, 2007
living at home
As a near 21 year old, and well into my college career, it's a damn shame and an absolute pain in the ass to still be living at home.
I don't know what i wouldn't give to be able to come and go freely, to bring the boy back to my own bed, or to stop worrying about using my vibrator during the day for fear that someone will hear the tell-tale buzz through my door.
I think that is one of the worst parts; when I'm feeling excited and I'm ready to go, you have no IDEA what a turn-off it is to be listening for your mother's footsteps in the hall beyond your room. I dread the 'knock-and-open-the-door-at-the-same-time' combo that is supposed to show a respect for your provacy while really giving you nothing but a split second heads up that hey, I'm busting in on you.
I've been lucky up to this point that i haven't been caught doing anything 'illegal'.
I've grown up in a household that frowns on everything having to do with sexual expression outside of marriage. We don't talk freely about dating, boyfriends and ESPECIALLY not sex, and if I were to mention birth control I would be out on the dourstep on my ass in an instant... which may be preferable to my current living situation but for the fact that I don't pay my tuition, my insurance... and although I have a relatively good part-time job, there's no way I could handly living on my own and paying my own shit when I have a full load of 400 level classes on my plate.
My little sister doesn't even know that I've gotten past second base... she once threatened to tell my mom that I had touched my boyfriend's penis as some sort of leverage to get what she wanted... which was annoying both for the fact that she would use that sort of knowledge against me and that I've rounded second base, and then third, and then home, and I've been running back around to second for quite some time.
I feel like I have to tell you a little of my life story and some background before I get to the fun and more interesting stuff, so bear with me for the first few posts while i establish my identity for you.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
I don't know what i wouldn't give to be able to come and go freely, to bring the boy back to my own bed, or to stop worrying about using my vibrator during the day for fear that someone will hear the tell-tale buzz through my door.
I think that is one of the worst parts; when I'm feeling excited and I'm ready to go, you have no IDEA what a turn-off it is to be listening for your mother's footsteps in the hall beyond your room. I dread the 'knock-and-open-the-door-at-the-same-time' combo that is supposed to show a respect for your provacy while really giving you nothing but a split second heads up that hey, I'm busting in on you.
I've been lucky up to this point that i haven't been caught doing anything 'illegal'.
I've grown up in a household that frowns on everything having to do with sexual expression outside of marriage. We don't talk freely about dating, boyfriends and ESPECIALLY not sex, and if I were to mention birth control I would be out on the dourstep on my ass in an instant... which may be preferable to my current living situation but for the fact that I don't pay my tuition, my insurance... and although I have a relatively good part-time job, there's no way I could handly living on my own and paying my own shit when I have a full load of 400 level classes on my plate.
My little sister doesn't even know that I've gotten past second base... she once threatened to tell my mom that I had touched my boyfriend's penis as some sort of leverage to get what she wanted... which was annoying both for the fact that she would use that sort of knowledge against me and that I've rounded second base, and then third, and then home, and I've been running back around to second for quite some time.
I feel like I have to tell you a little of my life story and some background before I get to the fun and more interesting stuff, so bear with me for the first few posts while i establish my identity for you.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
Getting Started
I used to be a really good girl.
No drinking, no smoking, no drugs, and no NO boys.
My first kiss was when I was 18. It was a peck on the lips, bu it freaked me out so much that I didn't try it again with the guy... who I had been dating for over a month. He dumped me a week later.
My first REAL kiss, and make-out, and hook-up, was when I was 19. I lost my v-card to him more than half a year later.
To this day, I've only been with this one guy... and though we broke up 'for good' many months ago, we are currently together, and this relationship is the source of experience I will draw my many many stories from.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
No drinking, no smoking, no drugs, and no NO boys.
My first kiss was when I was 18. It was a peck on the lips, bu it freaked me out so much that I didn't try it again with the guy... who I had been dating for over a month. He dumped me a week later.
My first REAL kiss, and make-out, and hook-up, was when I was 19. I lost my v-card to him more than half a year later.
To this day, I've only been with this one guy... and though we broke up 'for good' many months ago, we are currently together, and this relationship is the source of experience I will draw my many many stories from.
goodbye for now,
badlittlegoodgirl
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