Let’s talk about you and me.

It appears that most sex bloggers, including all of those I read, do not support monogamy. Most of them believe that it’s somehow unnatural or something. I suppose this means I am the minority.

After my faux marriage ended, I had the Consultant, who unknowingly awakened a previously dormant monster inside me that had an insatiable hunger for sex. The monster consumed me, and if I did anything it was only to feed the hungry beast. My offer was constant fucking, my only term was that it be exclusive. He confused my desire to constantly ride and suck his perfect, delicious, beautiful member with a desire to be his girlfriend and he ran away. When I couldn’t get it from him anymore I used what I learned from him – that it was undesirable to be monogamous.

I found a new plaything, dabbling around with others all the while. I was on a constant prowl, and no matter how much I got it was never enough. Then I met the Unmarried Man, and learned very quickly that I didn’t enjoy fucking someone if I couldn’t be the center of his attention. I began seeking lovers who fit that criteria…and then one of my admirers got hurt.

Oops. I felt like a real connasse. I decided it wasn’t worth hurting someone over sex that wasn’t that great anyway, since I wasn’t really totally into the people I was fucking.

Then I met the young one with the deliciously sick, twisted mind. Oh, his timing could not have been better! I was looking for someone to whom I could devote myself and still come out with a minimum average of three orgasms in a day. If he couldn’t be there himself he certainly made sure to provide adequate inspiration. And I was happy to be inspired–after all, I was under strict orders to cum when called! As I was drawn further and further into my admiration for him I severed all ties to other men. I became his, constantly under his doting supervision. The tighter his hold on me became the happier I was. And we both let it go on too far before he told me what I already suspected, that I wasn’t the only one. The crushing weight of the jealousy and the damage to my self-confidence that followed made me understand all too well that I am a monogamous woman.

I can see merit in “polyamory,” but to me it’s really just a synonym for ‘noncommittal.’ I desire commitment, especially if I’m seeking a partner with sadistic tendencies. I don’t want someone choking me unless we’re committed to each other. I mean, if he’s not committed to me, what’s to stop him from taking it a step too far and crushing my larynx? I know that sounds extreme, but seriously, I need to trust someone a lot to do some of the things I enjoy doing.

Now see here though – once I’m committed and partnered and trust implicitly there’s room for dalliance. Like… Say my partner asked me to have sex with someone else while he watched. Provided I’m attracted to that person, sure. I’d be game. But affairs outside of our coupledom? No way, Jose. If he wanted to be with another woman, I’d better get to pick her, and I’d better get to be there.

I’ll give up my power to him, but it comes at a price, and I don’t really think monogamy is that much to ask. It’s the only surefire way to make sure nobody gets hurt, specifically, moi. I should make the earth move under his feet anyway. I should be sa meilleure Jouissance!

Quest-e que c’est, “my type?”

I worked an extra long, tough day on Friday.  Barrel Chest kept texting yesterday so I wandered over to his place for a shower and a rubdown. We drank wine out of coffee mugs in his empty living room (he just never bought wineglasses or furniture), and then he fingered me to a glorious soapy orgasm in the shower, slipping his cock into me when I “dropped the soap.” I scolded him for doing it with no condom, but I couldn’t resist moaning and squeezing my kegels to grip him. He apologized for being a bad boy and then hurriedly rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, urging me out of the tub.

He kissed my body at every opportunity while I toweled off (which here means I pranced naked around him and used my towel as an excuse to pose in various pin-up positions). We had a lengthy conversation about our religious and anthropological beliefs during which I teased him incessantly, licking wine off my fingers and readjusting my towel to give him glimpses of skin. When he’d been teased enough he ordered me into the bedroom where he dove between my thighs and ravished my pussy for two full hours, restraining me from any real reciprocation. I was having a little trouble relaxing enough to come, and when I closed my eyes the Consultant popped into my head. A tear came to my eye as I realized I missed his body. I missed the way he touched me and his incredible, perfect cock.  I felt such pressure to come for Barrel Chest that I let myself sink into the fantasy… And once I had lost myself in it I almost immediately felt my muscles flex and contract.  I had to restrain myself from screaming the Consultant’s name.  Barrel jerked off onto my belly during my post-orgasmic squirming again. I felt a little funny about not doing any of the work, but he assured me that he liked it this way.  Mmm, fetishy.

I woke at 7:30 am and, weirdly, suddenly felt disgusted by all his body hair. I scurried to the bathroom, feeling nauseous, but I was fine once I wasn’t touching him anymore. I got dressed, then tiptoed to the bedroom, whispering that I had stuff to do.  Despite his protests I blew him a kiss, waved goodbye and hurried out the door toute de suite.

I don’t really know what came over me. I had been able to overlook it before; why was it that the morning brought a very physical reaction to it?  It’s perfectly normal anyway… So what was my problem?  That, combined with my brain substituting someone I’m desperately (inexplicably) attracted to just so I could come…well I think it just means I’m not attracted to this guy. It’s a shame, because he’s really on my leash.

Oh well; if he calls I’ll probably go to him regardless…he has this weird, completely unsexy appeal.   But if he doesn’t I have a few tricks up my sleeve yet. I met someone on a dating site (a mite bit more respectable than the CL ads) who is all about the non-monogamy.  He’s terribly interesting and cute, so I’m going to give it a shot. I also went on a first date with a woman last night (it was fun, but very friendly, so we’ll see how it goes) and have another two boys possibly on the line…possibly. Alors, I’m turning into a regular farmer, cultivating sex partners all over the place!

At least I’m trying…it’s a lot more work than I thought it would be.

La Retour

The Consultant came back into my life very suddenly. I caught him in a little online stalking and sent him an email… Suddenly I got a lengthy, apologetic letter in return that discussed how he thought I was looking for a committed relationship, and how he couldn’t do that for me.

Oh, les hommes and their silly assumptions about women!

I replied with a breezy invitation for some fun. After all, I want more than a good fuck, I want camaraderie too. Otherwise I’ll get bored. Oh sure, sometimes it’s nice to have a one night stand, but I really want someone on my speed dial who can be long term. Someone I can be friends with after we’re done fucking. Someone…well… cool.

We met up for a bite to eat, and it was like the first “date” all over again, only with more walking, since we hadn’t settled beforehand on a place to dine. I was engaged and interested in what he had to say, and nibbled at my food happily (waffles rock!), trying to throw signs across the table. “God you’re cute. Take me home.” He made a little joke about us having sex, but it only frustrated me. I couldn’t tell where he was coming from…was he not into me any more?

His signals were all mixed up. Mine were probably way out in both left and right fields. I’ve got to get better about that. Must make what comes out of the mouth match what the body is saying.

On our way back toward his place I awkwardly slipped my hand into his. Is that okay? Do we do that? I want to fuck you. I want to be friends with you. I don’t want a boyfriend. Can we hold hands? Sure, for a minute. Then he fussed with his belt buckle, which apparently was giving him some trouble. I decided it wasn’t meant to be and resigned myself to going home, which was just as well, since I had a ton of shit to do.

He apparently had a different idea, and as we meandered in a roundabout way toward his apartment, I said I’d walk him to his door for a little role reversal. “You’re not going to come up?” he asked. He had been expecting it!

For some reason I didn’t like that, so I played a little hard to get. In fact, I really was ready to leave. My period had just ended and I had my last “just in case” tampon in. I didn’t want to mess with that. I did, however, reeeeeeally want to get fucked. I was a little torn, so I let him decide. I called him on not showing his interest.

“I didn’t want to be pushy,” he offered.

“Maybe you should be a little more pushy,” I challenged with a sexy smile.

Suddenly we were making out in the courtyard of his building and he was pushing his erection into my hip, telling me how he wanted to lick my pussy and make me come. Nice. It didn’t take long for me to give the okay, but I enjoyed delaying the moment, making him work for it in public a little bit.

He chased me up the stairs, lifting the skirt of my dress to smack my ass and check out the panty situation (score! I wore pink lacy ones today!). I pretended to be scandalized by the exhibitionism of it all. Once inside, hands down the best thing was the kissing. We’re pretty compatible there, a little gentle nibbling, some teasing, every once in a while full-on tongue invasion. I’d forgotten what a pleasure it was to kiss him.

He threw me onto the couch and climbed on top me. I wanted to scream, “Hell yeah! Push me around! Smack me like I’m your little whore!” But I didn’t. I was too fixated on getting my mouth around his sweet cock. He got up to put on music, but I grabbed his hips and ordered him to remove the damn belt that had stopped us from holding hands earlier. He complied eagerly and I had my lips on him before he was all the way unzipped. I wrangled him onto the couch, where he groaned. “Oh, LaJou, you’re so good at that…” I smiled with my mouth full when he said my name. I sucked gently on the top half, swirling my tongue around the head a few times, making it throb a bit. I licked up and down the shaft and lightly scratched his thigh with one hand, pulsing my fist around the head with the other to keep the rhythm. Then I wrapped my lips around him again, trying that popping noise a couple of times to gauge the response. None that I could tell, but he’s kind of a sexual literalist. He talks a big dirty-talk game, but his reactions are actually pretty quiet. When I started deep throating though, he pulled me up for more kissing. I told him how much I love sucking his cock. I wanted him to know that’s what’s been driving me crazy the last two months.

Apparently it was good news to him. He flipped me onto my back and I wiggled out of my panties like a fish. Merd! In the heat of the moment I forgot to run to the bathroom to remove my tampon… Jesus, if it’s not one thing with this one it’s another! He gracefully patted my ass and sent me off to take care of business.

On my return I found him pants-less (so cute!) and he led me to the bedroom. I hopped onto the bed eagerly and he was right behind, pushing me onto my back and going down to eat me out. My vagina, apparently, loved this idea and felt the need to be noisy. Irritating, but we giggled it off and I was able to get to the top of the plateau. I told him to put his fingers inside me and he brought me all the way up, alternating kissing and watching me come. I love the taste of my pussy on his mouth… God, I love the taste of my pussy on his mouth. He asks to ride bareback. No dice, mister. Not unless I’m the only trick you’re turning.

As a consolation prize (for both of us), like a magnet to steel, my lips found his cock again. He couldn’t take it very long though before he shooed me off and slipped the condom on.  Then he laid back so I could be on top. Oh yeah.

“You deserve to get fucked,” he said gently, hearkening back to the first time we had sex, when he woke me up from years of shameful, selfish-feeling slumber. What he didn’t know was that I have changed since then. I grinned at him and put his hands on my hips. “I know,” I growled, and fucked him harder, throwing my head back and rubbing my clit against his pelvis.

We came together. Somehow though it wasn’t awesome. Something was lacking.

In the sticky heat I had to peel myself off him. We flopped back onto the bed and laid there for a few minutes collecting ourselves and being sweaty. I let myself snuggle for just a moment (I wanted to fall asleep so bad!), then began plotting my exit strategy. He asked if I wanted to take a shower. Nope. He said he wanted to take a shower. Great!

When he emerged from the bathroom I had hoped to be gone, but he was too quick for me. I kissed him before I left. The kiss became long and drawn out, and started getting hot. I wanted to go again.

But instead I decided to just go.

Hate Being Jerked Around

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.

Got what I came for…but what exactly is that?

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.

I’d forgotten what it was like…

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!