|
|
Friday, April 1st, 2005
| |
9:22 am
|
|
I had almost forgotten how soft and sweet a woman's kisses can be.
|
|
|
| Wednesday, June 2nd, 2004
| |
4:04 pm - Written for me...
|
I swear I get more and more sentimental as time goes by.
Soulspeak
Windy city streets Brightly-lit nightline skies Cannot fathom the power and beauty of your stone-blue eyes gazing into mine
Over wine and smiles Laughter and shared secrets Whispered promises, soulspeak your soft locks of red lost in my hands I kiss your skin, taste your lips Heartbeats fill my senses Your breath, burning my flesh drinking your smile consuming your love
And now that the miles come between Our touch, yearning to reach I lay back and dream
Of your stone-blue eyes Your soft locks of red Smile intoxicating Love satiating
|
|
|
| Friday, May 21st, 2004
| |
2:37 pm
|
Sex comes in so many different flavours.
There's the tender reconciliation sex after a fight. The wild and feral sex that reaffirms life when we get too close to death. Desperate, hungry sex that comes after you've been apart too long. Angry sex, when you're trying to forget how hurt you are. Lazy sex, when you have nothing better to do on a rainy weekend. Playful sex, when you can't stop laughing at how much fun it all is. Blind, groping sex, so early in the morning that you don't know what you're doing until you come.
I love them all.
|
|
|
| Thursday, April 1st, 2004
| |
2:50 pm
|
Maybe I've written about this before, I'm not sure. Maybe it bears repeating.
I don't really enjoy pain. What I enjoy is knowing that I have endured it, and in doing so, pleased someone.
|
|
|
| Wednesday, March 10th, 2004
| |
11:48 am
|
Hi....
I'm sorry I went away for a while. I was realizing a few things. First of all, it's been so damn long since I had sex that I was running out of things to write.
Secondly, this journal is very... focused. I mean, it's not really who I am because it's only a small part of me. I am much more complex that this, and I guess I originally created this to explore a part of me that the rest of me found to be unacceptable.
I am starting to integrate myself, become more of a whole person. So I don't need this so much. I have already started allowing more of this aspect of myself to show in my main journal.
Any thoughts?
|
|
|
| Thursday, November 27th, 2003
| |
1:55 pm
|
I am a sexual being.
I am an intelligent being.
I am a spiritual being.
Probably in that order.
|
|
|
| Thursday, November 20th, 2003
| |
10:17 pm
|
|
It's exhausting being this crazy. It really is.
|
|
|
| Tuesday, October 21st, 2003
| |
11:24 pm
|
So... something really strange happened. I'm not sure how to put it into words.
First of all, although fpr some of you this might shatter your illusions about me, you need to know that I have a medical condition that sometimes means that I sometimes get very confused or lose consciousness. When this happens at night, I sometimes have a seizure.
In this particular case, I was in bed at two in the morning, and a friend came in to my room to bring me a beer. Now, he had good reasons for doing this, but a big part of his reasoning at the time was that he wasn't exactly sober. But at that point, it all seemed to me to be a dream. I remember thinking that it was a strange dream to have, him showing up in the middle of the night with a beer. He was also apologizing for a minor quarell that we'd had that morning. So I thanked him for the beer and accepted the apology and hugged him. The dream got weirder as the hug turned into a beer flavoured kiss and the kiss was augmented by wandering hands and it all felt so good, but seemed so strange.
Next thing I remember, I was lying on the floor on my back and he was fucking me, hard. I started to feel the seizure coming on and it freaked me out. I started saying, "something's wrong, something's wrong". He asked me what I needed and I told him what to do. He helped me until the seizure was over. It was about then that I remember realizing that it wasn't a dream. But by then he was kissing me again. I remember flash images of the next hour or so. I remember several different positions, and I remember being hurt. Eventually, I regained my senses enough to ask what had happened to his girlfriend. He left shortly after that, I think.
I woke the next morning, still confused and very tired. I wondered again if I had dreamed it all, but when I rolled over and felt how sore my ass was and saw the beer bottle on my dresser, I knew it was real.
If I had been conscious when he showed up, I would have told him to bugger off and let me go back to sleep. If I weren't so disoriented after the seizure, I would have brought the issue of his girlfriend up right away. By the time I was less disoriented, I was deeply ashamed of what had already happened and didn't feel up to explaining my confusion to him.
Sigh. Now I don't know what to do. Sunday morning, I explained that I hadn't been functioning the night before and that I didn't remember everything. He says that he loves his girlfriend and that his actions were unfair to her and that he'll never do that again.
I don't know.
|
|
|
| Monday, October 20th, 2003
| |
8:27 pm
|
|
I lie on the couch with my head in his lap. He is running his fingers through my hair. It's very soothing. He's pressing his fingers into my scalp and massaging as he plays with the hair. The firmness of the touch is reassuring. I feel controlled. I like it.
|
|
|
| Thursday, October 9th, 2003
| |
11:25 pm
|
As most of you know, I am quite single. In french, one would say célibataire and in my case, it would be true. The thing is, despite the fact that it's been months since last I got any action at all, I am content. I think my sex drive is at the lowest point it's been in my adult life. This doesn't bother me too much.
Occasionally, I crave the physical comfort that comes from a relaxed relationship, but it's not so much the sex I've wanted. I want someone to put their hand on my knee while we drive somewhere, I want a hand in the small of my back or a kiss on the back of the neck. I want a body to lie next to at night. Once in a while, I want a nice resounding thwack on the ass. These are the things I miss.
I am a realist. I know that if I had more, I would want more, and that thwack on the ass would lead to a lot more exciting things, but... that's where I am at the moment.
I am not sure what to make of it. Until now, I have always been an extremely sexual person.
|
|
|
| Sunday, September 28th, 2003
| |
11:42 am
|
I just had a conversation with a friend about how lots of people out there are having a lot of boring sex. This prompted lots of simultaneous thoughts, and I will try to get them all down, because they were at least amusing to me.
I'm really glad I'm in the more adventurous segment of the population. It's been fun.
I love being caught off guard. It thrills me when the unexpected happens during sex.
Getting to an orgasm is as much fun as the orgasm itself. I think a lot of people have boring sex because they overlook that.
Sex isn't dignified. It just isn't. I mean, if you try to keep it dignified, you're going to miss out on a lot.
Somebody spank me.
|
|
|
| Thursday, August 14th, 2003
| |
12:09 am
|
I've been thinking a lot lately. Deep and serious thoughts about sex. I've been thinking about sex as sport, and sex as comfort, sex as an ego-boost, sex as a way to communicate love.
I know what I want, I want it all. I think that might be too much to ask for. I'm trying to decide how much is enough to settle for.
|
|
|
| Wednesday, August 13th, 2003
| |
6:16 pm
|
I'm sorry I haven't been writing much lately...
Someone should probably spank me.
|
|
|
| Friday, August 8th, 2003
| |
3:38 pm
|
|
I believe I was created to submit. I believe that I will submit, one way or another. I think I prefer to be the one choosing where I submit, and to whom.
|
|
|
| |
10:52 am
|
I had to defend how I think about these things last night. It was strange. I don't think I was completely successful.
I talked at great length with a good friend who really believes that the things I enjoy are perverted and wrong. I think that I was both eloquent and reasonable in my explanations, but still she could not see any part of it.
Mind you, she's a virgin.
|
|
|
| Wednesday, August 6th, 2003
| |
4:22 pm
|
As a preface to this story, I should tell you that I am not a boyish sort of girl. I am unmistakably female, with large breasts and wide hips, a round ass.
( this really happened )<y friend watches it all and we laugh, because I know it doesn't matter to him.
We have a long drive to the airport and knowing that training has been stressful for my friend, I run my hands through his thick wavy hair. This always relaxes him. He leans his head back over the back of his seat, and I take this opportunity to kiss him on the forehead. He smiles, and I see the ever-present tension in his body dissipate slowly. He is beautiful.
He sits up and twists in his seat to face me. He touches one hand to my face and leans in to kiss me on the lips. It is a sweet and tender kiss, gentle and undemanding. But then he pulls back and stops with his lips a few inches from mine. "You're teasing", I accuse him. He grins and asks if that means I want more. I hesitate for a moment, then say simply, "yes". He kisses me again, this time with a little more heat. We continue and he takes one corner of my lip and sucks it into his mouth, and I feel his tongue begin to search for mine. I am surprised, but also aroused. We part for a moment and look into each other's eyes, almost as though to check that we are really doing this. We are. Having arrived at that conclusion, we move back in for another kiss when we are interrupted by a sudden bump in the road--we both pull back again and laugh.
Our driver rolls his eyes and wants to know if we do this just to embarrass him. My friend laughs and tells him that the emarrassment is just a happy side-effect.
"Then why don't you just go back there with her?"
"I think I will."
With that, he clambers over the back of the seat and sits next to me. This time, his kisses are more demanding. I am still surprised, not sure what to think. He pulls back, and says, "your kisses are so soft. It's been a long time since I kissed a woman." Before I have worked out what to say to that, he kisses me again, and I give up trying to figure it out and just enjoy it. He is very good at it, so there's lots to enjoy. He keeps one hand on my neck, and the other arm around my waist. He kisses and nibbles and caresses. I become a little more bold as he continues, but all too soon, we arrive. Our driver turns around and jokes about the interruption, catching a bit of the nibbling, and raising an eyebrow at me. I shrug. By now, my friend has opened the sliding door and I turn to grab my suitcase from the seat next to me as I back out of the van. He is standing just behind me, and lets his hands settle on my hips as I step down to the ground. As I lean forward to pull my suitcase the rest of the way to the door, he cups my ass in his hands, and I wriggle slightly. He whispers into my ear, "that's a great ass, and I'd like to fuck it some day." I drop my suitcase next to me on the ground and turn to kiss him one more time. "See you in six months", I say. I pick up my suitcase, and walk off to get on the plane.
I swear I'm not making this shit up.
|
|
|
| Friday, June 13th, 2003
| |
1:18 pm
|
|
Sex is great, fabulous, wonderful. But I like it better when it's accompanied by more mundane intimacies like shaving and snoring and tea. Does that make any sense?
|
|
|
| Thursday, June 12th, 2003
| |
9:35 am
|
Looking back at what I've written, I noticed something. The thing that is common to all of my stories is that in them, I do not make choices. I give, and take, but I do not choose. It's strange since I am writing these stories, ultimately, I am the one who is choosing. But clearly, this has something to do with how I perceive submission.
I know that I often feel overwhelmed when in life I must make choices for others, or important choices for myself. Is this part of what makes me crave submission?
|
|
|
| Wednesday, June 11th, 2003
| |
11:09 pm
|
|
The doctor told me today that pain is a very individual thing, very personal. I wondered how much he really knew about it.
|
|
|
| Saturday, May 17th, 2003
| |
7:11 pm
|
|
Being mostly single, I get really frustrated sometimes. My toys are all well and good, but not good enough. I want a cock. I want to be held down. I want to be fucked hard, to have no choice about it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|