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...
Friday, November 30, 2007
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
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