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What are you waiting for?
Okay guys, let’s talk about fellatio. You know, blow jobs. Going down. Kissing the Cyclops. Gobbling the rod. I could go on and on. I love it, I do, I’m one of those rare beautiful creatures who likes your cock in my mouth. I don’t find it demeaning, I find it empowering. That being said…
Gentlemen, stop it.
No really, knock it off already.
What you say? Well that part is simple. When I go down on you, quit worrying about how long you last. Honestly. I’ve had more than one guy promise that next time they’ll hold out longer. Really?
Let me break this down for you.
I’m not worried about it. Odds are if I’m down there doing my thing I’m not super concerned with your stamina. The longer you last, the more work for me. 15, 20 minutes in and I should be done. You should be done. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy doing this for you. If you’ve earned the privilege of me on my knees for you I probably like you quite a bit. But I’ll tell you this, now is not the time to run a marathon.
This is a sprint to the finish line and I’m doing my best to get there as quickly as possible. I feel accomplished if we’re done in less than 5, not disappointed. If I’m between your legs you’ve done something right and you’re being rewarded for it. It’s my goal to make you feel good. However, I don’t want to spend all night in this position. It’s uncomfortable. My knees hurt. My neck hurts. If you’re big, my jaw hurts. Maybe even my throat. The sooner we are done the better.
I’m not comparing this to you being inside me. I’m not timing you thinking ‘Jesus, what’s wrong that he is done so fast?’ If you’re going to be inside me, we will deal with that when the time comes. I’ve got a bag of tricks so deep it’ll frighten you. We’ll be fine. I’ll get mine. But when it comes to orgasms, if you’re in my mouth the sooner it’s over the better.
I am one of the hard to find women on this planet who enjoys this activity. I get off on getting you off. I feel like I’m in a position of power when I’m on my knees for you. I love it. I swallow, because hey, it’s already in my mouth and that’s the quickest solution. I am also damned good at what I do. I’m not lazy about it. I work my lips, my tongue, maybe even a little teeth (the right way) for your enjoyment. I’ll be playing the tip, the shaft, the whole deal. I don’t neglect the boys below either. They’ll be getting some much deserved mouth action. I bring my hands to the party, too. All of this is for you, because I find it enjoyable. So don’t misunderstand me…I am having fun. However this isn’t the main event.
Hell, even on those occasions when it IS the main event you can probably bet if we are more than 20 minutes in with you in my mouth I’m thinking ‘WTF is with him? Or me? What did I miss here? And how the hell can I find his hot button and be done already. My jaw is killing me and I know neither of us want that.’ Because when my jaw hurts, well, it starts to close. Natural reflex. No one wants our time together to end THAT way.
You wanna prove what a stallion you are and I get that. There is a time and place for that, and it’s not in my mouth. OH and for GOD’S SAKES don’t THRUST at my FACE. Really? You want harder? You want faster? Deeper? TELL ME. Talk to me. It’s sexy. Fucking my face like I’m a blow up doll isn’t. Got it?
Thank you boys, for giving me your full attention. We can discuss other ways you can make me happy another time, but for now, we will leave it with this.
I want to know when feminism died. When it suddenly became okay again to objectify women because now we have a choice. When did we decide 'choosing' to be a bikini clad baby oil wrestler made it any less demeaning?
Shows like Mad Men, PanAm, and the Playboy Club glorify this outdated notion of women and give a false sense that somehow we chose to be in those positions and our sassy attitudes and short skirts. At the time, I know it was the fashion. But at the time, women only had the option of being school teachers, school nurses, or secretaries. Professionally speaking, we’ve changed the world in a short amount of time.
My mother was a child of the 60’s, and a woman of the 90’s. She went from protest signs to pants suits. She was at the core of the revolution, and she did it quietly, with grace and dignity. I grew up watching her make more money than my father in a more difficult field and seeing her take on a man’s world and win. Why aren’t we glorifying that? It deserves to be celebrated.
We still have a long way to go; women’s wages are still 75 cents to every dollar a man makes. You still don’t see a lot of women on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. So why this slip into being poor delicate flowers again? These days we don’t just run the home and bear the children. We run the home, bear the children, work a nine to five, bake for the bake sale, cook dinner, and still have time for a little roll in the hay. We do it all. We do it well. We deserve recognition.
So when you sit down to DVR your favorite shows, remember this: your daughter is watching you watching this. She sees you leaving for work every day and coming home to watch women be treated like they know nothing and can be nothing but arm candy. She’s learning that a sassy attitude and a killer pencil skirt are all it takes to get what you want, and all you want is to be on the arm of a man who treats you as less than. She’s internalizing it, whether you realize it or not.
It may not seem that important now, but when your 18 year old walks out the door in a Hooter’s tank top and a smile, remember that what you do has more power than what you say. Let’s show our girls that it isn’t a man’s world anymore. It’s a woman’s world, and they are damned lucky to live in it.
A friend of mine posted this today, and it touched me because I know it's true, both about me and for me. You never know the lives you touch, so remember no matter what, someone somewhere is thinking of you kindly, and remembering you with love.
"Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have." ~ Henry Rollins
Ha...hit me today, put it all down in a first run. Needs some major work before it can be called anything (poem? song? mindless drivel?) But here I go:
I want to be close to you, believe me boy I do
There’s just one problem with all that, I’m not in love with you
I see it in your eyes, you tell me every day
How much you care, the way you stare, but I can’t feel that way
Something inside is missing, I really wish I could
Reciprocate, but it’s too late, my heart is gone for good
Babe I know you love me, I wish I loved you too
It’s not fair but I’ll stay here and spend some time with you
See I always want what I can’t have, and I know I can have you
I pick the fight, choose the war, I can’t just be true
I’ve walked away a thousand times, you’re still always there
I want to love, I want to need, but boy I just can’t care
You make it too easy, love, you make it too right
I don’t now how to function if love is not a fight
I like the pain, I love the hurt, though it’s not what I need
So while you make me comfortable, I just want to bleed
Flowers and candlelight, they don’t work on me
I need the passion of the night, envy, lust and greed
If you can’t walk away from me there’s no way I can stay
Can’t you see what’s good for me just will drive me away
Just get a little sicker, boy, just get a little wrong
Don’t stay here and play me one more silly love song
Tell me that you hate me, so I can prove you don’t
Tell me you don’t need me, though I know you won’t
Don’t you understand, I’m in love with the pain
The want, the need, the burning ache, all drive me insane
I say I want forever, and you say you want it too
But can’t you see you silly boy I just can’t love you
So stay a while and hold my hand, I will hold yours too
But understand, when pain comes round, I will just leave you
This is a dream sequence from a story I started writing last spring that I've recently been inspired (or instructed) to pick back up. The scene is a but more flowery than the rest of the book...it's intention to be more mystical than the rest although I think it might just come off kind of grocery-store-romance-novel-y. I apologize in advance...and enough with the excuses.
I see blackness; nothing before me but endless starless night.
Subtly, I begin to sense things. A cool, calm wind brushes over me, soft earth beneath my feet but I see nothing. I’m aware that my eyes are closed, but I feel no fright, no need to search my surroundings.
He is there, and I am safe.
A hand, large and warm, grips mine. It’s solid, thick and calloused. I feel the strength as it wraps around mine. The sandpaper fingers rest gently against mine, the leathery palm pushes comfortingly, firmly, into my own.
His voice, warm like the summer wind, whispers to me “Don’t move, don’t even breath”.
As his words reach me my breath catches and my stomach flips. On a cliff like that of fear, but pulsing with a deeper excitement, I stand as still as possible.
“Do you feel it?”
I can’t speak. I shake my head and feel my hair whip against my cheeks. Still seeing nothing, straining every sense to gather information. I grip the hand tightly.
“Dig into the earth,” he whispers. His lips at my ear do not touch me, but his breath as he speaks makes me shiver.
I push my feet into the ground and wait. A deep rumbling, almost undetectable, scatters dust over my bare legs.
“They’re coming. Wait now. Stay perfectly still.” His voice is soothing and deep, with a slight drawl. I want him to continue but I am unable to express it. My mind seems absent, unaware of anything but the words he speaks. I wait.
I have no idea who they are, who he is. I should feel panic, I should run. I don’t move. I am aware of nothing but his voice and the slowly mounting vibration of the earth beneath me. There is no fear, just a tension mounting in my abdomen, a pulse of adrenaline waiting to burst outward. I wait, and I listen for the voice.
The movement beneath my feet is more present now, a soft and steady thumping from some distance away. There is a rhythmic quality to the movement, and I begin to hear a rolling, pounding sound coming in time with the vibration of the earth. Anticipation boils up inside me and the urge to run pulses through me but I stay, anchored by the hand in mine.
He must feel my tension rising, because the hand squeezes mine. It’s soothing and thrilling all at once. My head swims, I drown in thoughtlessness. I try to speak again, and find a whisper.
“Now?”
He shushes me close to my ear and I shudder gently and my heart thuds rapidly with anticipation, still waiting.
The sound, like distant thunder, pounds more loudly and urgently. The vibrations grow stronger as the thumping continues to build, shaking my legs and setting me off balance. I fall into him, a thick arm wraps around me and catches me. Leaning on his shoulder I hear him say “Now.”
I open my eyes and see them, hundreds of them, coming rapidly and gracefully down the hill in waves of black and brown. Hooves beating the ground mercilessly and beautifully, tracing a path into the open valley we stand in. I gasp at the incredible sight and stand upright, leaning closer to the massive movement. They’re closer still, and I can see individual shapes, manes and tails whipping, large dark eyes focused on the horizon.
I feel him behind me, his words in my ear again “The herd has been running wild in these hills, like you and I.” The fluttering in my abdomen has returned, tinged with a desire unknown until now. I know what we’ve been doing in these hills somehow, like a distant memory on the edge of a dream that my mind cannot find but my body recalls.
The horses move closer now, bleeding into the valley and spreading outward in every direction. The noise is massive, rushing bodies and rapid feet. I’ve never seen anything so natural, so wonderful.
I’m overcome by childlike curiosity; I want to run with them, merge into the mass of muscle and majesty. I’m also becoming more and more aware of him…the thick scent of dust and sweat and musk rising behind me, the taut ropelike muscles of his arms around me. I’m consumed by the desire to melt into him, into the stallions, into this moment. To live and breathe and be here forever, wherever this is.
For the first time in my life, I feel peace and unity and excitement and overpowering joy and belonging…like I’ve finally come home to a part of the world, a part of myself, that I didn’t know was gone.
The body behind me bends as the rush of wind from the stampede whips soft cotton fabric around my legs. Rough stubble caresses my cheek as his lips meet my neck. My eyes close again and I’m lost in the labyrinth of this unknown man and unknown place which feel so much more like me than anything else in this world.
The blackness returns; no sensation, just sleep, and a rapidly spreading ache in my chest for the feeling, the man, and the moment to return.
....So yeah...uh...terribly embarassed *lol* But the premise of the story and other pieces of it are coming together. All eight pages so far =P I have it in my head, just need the ambition and follow through to put it on paper. Thank you for reading if you took the time to. <3
To DO:
NYE in NYC
Mardi Gras in New Orleans
Carnival in Brazil
Pride in San Francisco
Bastille Day in France
St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland
The Parthenon in Greece
The Vatican in Italy
I could go on and on…but, everyone’s favorite is next…
YOU if you are VERY fortunate… *lol*
I’m shocked at how oversexed I am mentally and undersexed physically. Not that I haven’t had great sex, I’ve just always been in a relationship and always had a deep connection with the people I sleep with. So yeah, I have a LOW number….making that last one the best one. ;) I’ll add more later, because I know there are so many more. THINGS that is…<3
No seriously though…I’m coming out of a REALLY ROUGHT relationship. Like, four years long, half of it wonderful, the other half terrifying. I met him here, ironically enough. And after four years, an engagement, and all the rest it’s over. I’m not sure how to feel about it. Some days…some hours…some minutes I feel numb. Or ok. Or happy. Or devastated. Or angry. Or all of it. Sometimes I’m so thankful he’s gone I want to dance and sing and other times I’m so crushed I can hardly breathe.
I made the decision, over and over, that it was bad and needed to end. I got dragged back over and over again.
Now, after he took money, hurt me physically, scared my daughter, cheated, and got someone else pregnant I’m TRULY done. I was done before, but now I’m beyond done, to that place of such deep hurt and betrayal that revenge (which I have a lot of ammunition and justification for) doesn’t even seem adequate. I think that karma has that covered…having a child with someone he barely knows when I know he would so much rather be having one with me. Having to face trying to make a family from nothing instead of staying where we already built one together. Growing up all at once and all alone instead of with my unyielding, unending love and support. I don’t think even the biggest ass kicking, most embarrassing or financially devastating revenge could compare to living such an empty life.
Especially once you have been with me, and you know the difference.
I may not be much to look at, but I am pretty. I’m smart. I’m kind, giving, and loving to a fault. I’m funny. I’m amazing. I know what he is missing…and really, so does he.
So the fun part is, I’ll be able to listen to the radio again in short order. Those songs that sting now won’t hurt so bad in another week or two. I’ve already got people loving me beyond measure, who want to be with me, and who are there for me.
I know he can’t listen to the radio. I know that won’t change. I know I was the first taste of real love he ever had, and probably the last.
I just don’t know if I can make it again…if I can saddle up for a third round of finding true love and happiness…to be that open and vulnerable and have it all fall apart. I love with ALL of myself…give EVERYTHING…and I don’t know if I can pay the price again.
Casual sex on the other hand…I think it’s about time I took advantage of as much of that as I can. Fuck being the one who is ALWAYS faithful, ALWAYS honest, ALWAYS loving. Maybe it’s my turn to turn people inside out…
hahahahaha like I even have it in me. But at least I know I was true to myself, and I showed someone who had never known love exactly what it’s all about.
...DJ. Don't ask why, as I am not sure. It could be my loud, obnoxious, off the wall style of communication. It could be my wild love of any and all music. It could be the free perks, low pay, and quasi-local-celeb status. Whatever the reason, I have decided I want to be a RADIO DJ. (For those of you momentarily confused, I have no desire to 'remix' 'remaster' or otherwise destory the work of decent artists by polluting them with the horrid modern back beats and poor lyrical stylings of newer club-friendly garba..er, music).
Now, the fun part is how I pursue this. I know there is no real job reqiurement, but rather an 'in' and a quick group of fans/followers. Well, I have a redy-made fan base just waiting for me. I have a friend in the business, but I also know she has no real desier to help me try and steal her job. Otherwise, I have no idea and I probably lack the follow through to actually accomplish anything.
I am, however, open to suggestions.
So, just for today anyway, I wanna be a DJ.
