Je suis seule. C’est triste.
I realized today that my strategy is off. I want sex every day, and often more than once…I can’t be calling one person up every day for it… No wonder the Consultant got turned off.
It’s time to get out there and start juggling. Just gotta find some balls to toss in the air. Heh.
Sabina does too, and said it better than I ever could. I haven’t heard from the Consultant since last Saturday morning when I left his apartment. I’m dying to get fucked; it doesn’t have to be from him. I entertained myself all evening with a fantasy about meeting a girl out and having no place to go, so we call him up and invite ourselves over. I bet it would blow his mind if he knew I only want him for his cock and the fabulous location of his apartment.
Just got home from the Consultant’s… God, he felt good in me. Sans condom too, thanks to the Today Sponge, although my tongue is still tingling from sucking him after he’d been inside me.
Mmm… Why do I like giving him head so much? Maybe because he reciprocates. Maybe because he doesn’t ask for it. Maybe because he keeps his hair nice and trimmed. I don’t know, but it sure is lovely. This time we were much less drunk too, and as a pleasant surprise his cock was bigger than I’d remembered it. Filled me up nicely.
I wonder if his tongue is tingling too?
While I was on top of him he watched my face, pushed my hair out of my eyes and said “yeah, fuck me like you wanna come.” I did want to come again. I wanted it bad, and I was determined to get it. Thank god my period ended on Sunday night, so I haven’t ovulated yet He pulled out just before coming, but in the heat of orgasms (his and mine (yay!)) I grabbed him and shoved him back inside me…. oops. But I needed it to come! I needed to be all filled up!
I was the punk rock star, all sweaty and dirty and grinding on top of him; he was a little clinical and seemed a little skeezed out by the sweat and the dirt. I hope he gets over it, because I like my sex sweaty and dirty and messy. I can’t wait for Thursday; I want to be able to have someone come into me and not ever worry – he was very very stressed out about me putting him back in, including the leak.
Wanna know a secret? I like the leak. I love the idea of having his cum pouring out of me. I love it the same way I love kissing someone after they’ve been giving me head. I love the idea of us both being one messy, sweaty, cum-soaked pile of motion and then crashing onto the bed together after it’s all over.
Afterward he was perfect. He held me, but in a selfish way, like he wasn’t doing it as a favor. He slid an arm underneath my neck and hooked it around my chest like he was saying “mine. This is mine.” It was great. He spooned me and I snuggled him backwards, rubbing his arm and playing a little footsie and fitting into him like a hand into a glove. He showered me with about a million little kisses all over my hair and my shoulders and my cheeks and eventually my lips as I looked over my shoulder to kiss him back.
I could have stayed there forever. It was really the best part.
Eventually I rolled over onto my tummy, wanting to hold him too, but he fussed about the leaking and I got frustrated with the fussiness and ran to the bathroom to take out the damn sponge and clean up.
When I came back I was sorely disappointed. He had put a t-shirt and some boxer shorts on. I wanted the snuggly feeling back though, so I stayed naked and crawled up next to him, laid my head on his chest, and rested for a few minutes. I really liked the feel of his warm cotton t-shirt on my cheek, and the way he kissed my hair and called me out on wanting to cuddle more. Even though he pointed it out, he still wrapped me up in a hug and held me there, muttering about his homework – apparently he had to read a twenty page script tonight. I lay there, listening to the rain outside, silently cursing him for not telling me I could stay the night anyway. I wanted to sleep there so badly, listening to the rain and his sweet voice and feeling tingly all over from fucking.
God, I was such a rockstar, riding him with my hair everywhere and bringing us to simultaneous orgasms. I kind of wish I hadn’t put him back inside me though. I’m a little embarrassed by it. I explained that I just got done with my period and that I had four or five days before I even had to start worrying. Hopefully his fears were assuaged. God I can’t wait for this damn IUD or implant or whateverthehell they’re going to give me.
I packed up and left not too long after that, but there was talk of next week and of next time… good. So good. I want him to be available to me like that, but only when I want it.
I’m still tingly. I still have that good yummy feeling…but I wish he was here with me to kiss my hair and fuck me in the morning before work.
After I met the ex I was so caught up being in love that I forgot how much fun it is to just…you know…play. The Consultant has opened up a whole new door for me. I have the most lurid thoughts racing through my brain again…
It hasn’t been like this in years.
He told me that when he first penetrated me it was like popping a balloon. A tear squeezed out of the corner of my left eye and I moaned “God, I needed this…”
I did!
I had an epiphany at that moment. I remembered there and then, on his tiny couch in his tiny apartment, what it feels like to be a woman, to be sexy, to fuck. He half pushed me, half carried me into the bedroom, whispering that he wanted to make me come and marveling over my completely-bare Brazilian wax job. Later, when I went down on him I was excited to have his cock in my mouth where with the ex giving head had been a chore. It was purely a selfish gesture; I was hoping I could tease him and excite him and get him harder so it would be that much better the next time he fucked me.
The awesome feeling I got, that amazing sexual high, I mistook for emotional attachment. It took a few days for me to get my bearings and remember that I left the ex so I could have these experiences and that I want to have them with lots of people, both men and women. The Consultant happens to be a great person in general in addition to being deliciously cute and fuckable, so that didn’t help any when it came to my emotional confusion.
I still don’t know. Do I want a friend out of him or do I just want to put on some hot lingerie and tease his cock until he shudders with pleasure? I’m starting to think maybe the latter, but it would be nice to have both. I hope he’s into that.
I can’t wait until Thursday – I have an appointment at the lady doctor and hopefully they’ll either put me on the implant or give me an IUD. Condoms suck. Spermicidal condoms suck even worse – they made me itchy! Gross!
R-
Tu me déranges. Tu m’hantes.
Tu as faites une charme quand tu as chuchoté dans mon oreille–je peux penser à rien mais des fouets, et des chaînes, et du cuir sur ma peau. Et toi. Toi. Je veux que tu me domines complètement. Quand je suis récalcitrante, je veux que tu me punisses. Je suis ton marionnette, et tes commandes seraient mes seuls faits. Je veux que tu penses à moi tendrement sur l’intérieur et violemment sur l’extérieur. Retiens-moi! Mords-moi! Violes mon corps, je t’implore, avec le plus de force. Mais embrasses-moi, je te prie, doucement et gentiment. Je veux oublier mon existence et, pour un moment, penser seulement au jouissance.
(and how do you pronounce it?)
Conventional wisdom says we must manage jouissance, that we must practice restraint and order so that we are not overwhelmed by waves of emotion.
I say to hell with that.
