One afternoon during the Christmas week that he was in town, we watched another episode from yet another show he had gotten me hooked on. Afterward, his hand slid up my leg, and we wasted the rest of the afternoon keeping half our clothes on while both our shirts pooled together on the floor beside his couch. I was on top, hair sticking out in every direction, my hands fingering the waistband of my skirt, when he gazed up and blurted, "You're really beautiful."

I was so taken aback that my only response was a hastily stuttered "Well thank you" and did something with my legs to keep him quiet. He's never given over to little sentiments like that. Later, I asked him why the momentary lapse, and he didn't have a satisfactory answer--"I just felt like saying that."

I'm glad he did, but I wish he hadn't.

Flavor of The Month

August 2014/Dragon*Con Weekend - Jason the lawyer, slept with him in his room at the Hilton. Met again for another session in October at the Sheraton. Liked to eat ass, had gorgeous sleeve tattoos. Extremely smart in his studied field, but your average run of the mill racist.

September 2014 - Brady the architect, went on 3 dates with him, slept with him on the 2nd. Skinniest guy I've been with yet. Sweet, but too passive.

October 2014 - Jeff the mechanical engineer, met with him twice. 1st meet a failed attempt at sex for multiple reasons (most of which I lay at his feet), 2nd time a success of sorts. Broke it off due to his unearned arrogance in the bedroom.

November 2014 to present - John the WholeFoods manager, tried and true submissive who services me whenever I'm in the area. Zero complaints with him. Probably the best oral I've enjoyed.

December 2014 - Asher was in town, rest is self-explanatory.

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I put up holiday pictures on facebook and tagged the single one I have of me and him. Look, it's proof. Not every guy in my life is a dirty secret.

A Matter of Need

The other morning in bed, I got myself off by imagining you and oral. A fairly normal (and regular) routine except you weren’t going down on me. You had me in your lap, hands on my waist and lips to my ear, while I closed my eyes and listened to a hypothetical description of what it’s like to get me off with your mouth. The words felt more rumbled and purred than actually said, but the meaning came clear across.

You’re familiar with every sound I make: that sharp gasp at the first bottom-to-top lick, the softer iteration for when you delve inside with your tongue, the drawn-out sigh at the circles you draw around my shy, peeping hood, and those steady little intakes of breath—a slow-building crescendo—that give away how close I am before the breathing abruptly cuts to choked-off moans.

My scent fills up every corner of the room: the initial rush, so bright and heady, wraps around your head, squeezes tight, and locks you in. You can almost taste it—except, you’re too full with the rest of me. A milky slick that sits so sweetly on your tongue, coating your chin, lacing the inside of your mouth, trickling down your throat, all messy, all mine. You can’t ever get enough.

And you murmur how indescribable it feels to press your lips against my clit, its fleeting contractions baring a shapely nub one second and retreating the next. How velvety smooth my lips are, easy to nip and easier to suck. How easily you predict the timing of my orgasm by the rigid arch my back freezes in, waiting for an internal cue to begin a freefall: the whole-body shudder that starts deep in my belly and frantically spreads north until you have to hold me down so the entire bed doesn’t shake.

The sight of me twitching and trembling to cool down, the flesh between my thighs still flushed rosy. You know every sign, and I believe it because you told me all of this—or at least the you in my mind did.

That was such a confusing 90 minute phone call. His voice gets incredibly thick when he cries.

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I slept with 3 different (new) people in a 7-week period.

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These guys are just tiding me over for Something Else. I wish Asher was that Something Else; at least there wouldn't be any more guessing or speculation. But he's not. No matter how hard I try to bend him into becoming This Guy I could have a Future with, he isn't that. Won't ever be that. The part of me that knows better always stops the part of me that doesn't, thank god. But also goddammit.

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I'm all shook up.

I was your primary the whole summer?

And here I tried so hard not to think about that possibility too much.

Reminders

I don't listen to certain songs.

I don't drive by certain places.

I don't wear certain clothes.

I don't look at certain things.

I haven't in months. It's annoying.

#nomoredreamsplease

I've had three this week and none of them good.

I am so tired of crying about you when I drive at night.

What He Got Away With

1. I text him. He replies two days later. I text him. He forgets to reply. 

2. He goes down for five minutes, fucks me until he comes, and watches while I finish myself off. Repeat. 

3. I am upset with him over something. I don’t bring it up because the last time I did that, he ignored me for a week. 

4. We schedule a meetup. I hold my breath until five minutes before the appointed hour because I never know if he’ll cancel at the last possible moment. 

5. I cry. He insists we’re “just talking.”

6. He has the sweetest mouth and says the most careless things. 

7. I try not to care. He actually doesn’t care.

8. He doesn’t touch me in public. 

9. I let my walls down. He torched and salted the earth beyond it. 

10. He saw me cry.

he gave me the summer I wanted