Sexual Mirrors, Sensualist Lovers

I have been holding out on you.  I know, I know, for shame on me.  I wrote this over a week ago, but somehow couldn’t bring myself to post it.  Something about my level of excitement over the experience seemed too much.  It’s like I didn’t want to jinx it by being immersed in the joy of it as deeply as I was…or am.  I’m still resisting posting this.  There is hesitation, some trepidation…like standing on the edge of a very high cliff and looking over.  Here goes nothing.

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Where to begin.  I’m so lax in writing this week, and so much has transpired in such a short amount of time, so before this gets any further away from me, I wanted to share.

I’d like to say, and for the most part it would be true, that I usually know right away whether I want to pursue being lovers with someone.  There’s the instantaneous physical reaction that is communicated between bodies.  You see someone, exchange a glance or some casual conversation, and it’s just something innately there.  It doesn’t surprise you, or beguile you, it just simply exists.  Sometimes it’s one sided, but if you’re lucky, it’s deliciously reciprocal.

And then sometimes I meet someone, and there’s not an instant acknowledgment of desire.  It’s like my body isn’t aware of that undercurrent at all.  It doesn’t say “yes”, it doesn’t say “no”, it says “I’m not sure…I want to know more before I am sure”.  You would think in those cases that whatever desire is there would then be naturally less powerful than one that is immediately known.

This is so not the case, and although by now knowing this I shouldn’t be surprised, I am in awe.

I was ready for good lovers, middle of the road, “wow, that was fun, let’s do it again” lovers, but I was not ready for this.  I was not ready for a sexual connection with someone that was so deliriously intense that it borders on intoxicating.  It’s passion with intensity that is, to me, mildly frightening.  It both implores me towards it, and makes me want to dial it back so I can feel more in control.  And the best part, the part that I always find myself musing on when I think about it, is how completely unexpected it was.  Even writing about it I find myself wanting to edit and erase.

I have been blessed during my 30-something years here on earth to have some amazingly skillful lovers.  There is a small handful of men that I can heartily thank for helping me to discover things about my body that perhaps I would have never thought to explore on my own until they came into my life.  Yet, amidst that handful, I have had only one other lover with whom I shared this same intense ungovernable ardor, and perhaps that is why I am also finding this new connection to be unraveling threads of anxiety for me at it’s force.  It’s just so incredibly rare.

Sensualists, true sensualists, are not lovers that are easily found.  You may have never found one yourself, but there will be no denying it when you do.200551307-008

Sex with a sensualist is all about the journey, and less about the destination.  There is no route, no map, no end point in sight.  You’re out exploring a sea of sensation and desire that is endless, and only seems to unfold even more before you the more and more you explore it.  This is the rabbit hole you’ve been waiting for, Alice.

I am a very orally fixated lover.  My mouth needs to be engaged.  Kissing, licking, biting, sucking; all of these things increase my pleasure immensely, and are, the very root of my sexuality.  To find someone for whom this is also true, to be almost mirrors sexually, is just beyond compare.  And not only to mirror each other in that, but also in intensity of passionate expression of that sexuality, that is undeniably raw and unrelenting.  A love of touch, a love of skin, a love of sensation and play, and a lack of inhibitions…such an exponentially delightful gift.

kissingSo, this lover and I, spent over 10 hours fucking each other dizzy.  There were hours that passed like minutes, and minutes that shared like hours.  I have rug burn on my elbows, and I have no idea how they got there.  My living room floor, the sofa, and the massage table became our great playground.  At times this was problematic because, let me tell you, sometimes carpet can be quite slippery in the right position.  It can also be quite unforgiving on delicate skin.

10 hours takes a lot of stamina, but really when you are as orally fixated as we are, you need that long because the first 3 hours is spent just kissing.

His body, it’s this incredible instrument of flesh.  I just can’t get enough of it.  There’s not an inch of it that I can keep my mouth from wanting, or needing to be tasting.  He loves touch, and in his love of touch, is skillfully curled the innate knowledge of not only “how” to accept touch so open and willingly, but to communicate through his own fingers and hands, that same lustful art of sensation.

And he makes the most amazing sounds, or as he called them, “appreciations” of my touch, which I think may have made him feel self-conscious of at first, but I told him I was really paying him the deepest compliment.  How I love vocal lovers!  So many people stifle their exclimations of pleasure.  This has never been something I understood, as vocally expressing passion is so inherent for me.  There’s a spot on his body that I love so much, and I can’t decide what makes me love it more; the way it feels to me when I run my fingertips or tongue over it, or the way he throws his head back and moans when i do.

There is a deep pleasure even in the simplicity of the feel of his skin against mine, his body pressed tightly into me.  When there are layers of clothing between us, I want to lift them up and peel them away just to feel his skin touch mine as we kiss.  So soft and electric.

It’s rare to find someone who’s energy can match my own…who rises to meet me, and pushes back against me, and then climbs higher.  It’s solid and comforting, as much as it is so powerfully intoxicating and raw.

It’s the kind of connection I crave, and yet fear allowing myself to revel in the delight of because it might swallow me whole, but I so, so, very much want to be consumed by this.

 

 

 

 

 

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Seven Frisky Facts: Beauty Is In The Eye of The Beholder

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Wow, it would seem that the WordPress universe has once again bestowed upon me the gift of some of those super nifty blogger awards! Ok, maybe I shouldn’t say “universe”, as universe refers to something unfathomably large, and both of these awards came from the same blogger out in WP land, but then again, maybe he is unfathomably large (down under, that is), that Joe, I haven’t done any in-person investigation of this, so the jury is still out! HA

Anywho, my fabulous blogging friend Joe, duly dubbed my “Northern Twin” after discovering we have far too many nuances in common, nominated me as “Beautiful Blogger”, and to this I say, awwwwwwwww and spanks you, kind sir! He writes the blog, My Jaded Parts. Go read him, and feel good and dirty!

Like all of these awards, this one comes with its own mini acceptance rule book of sorts, so without further or do….

1) Post a photo of the Beautiful Blogger Award in your blog post: VOILA!
2) Thank the person who nominated me for the award and provide a link to their blog: See above blabbering.
3) Share 7 facts about myself: Um, ok. Facts about what aspect of myself though?

7 Frisky and Fun Facts

  1. When I was 18, I masturbated on an Amtrak train in the bathroom while heading north from NYC to upstate, and was neither quiet nor discreet about it.
  2. I LOVE men and am completely and utterly a very cock-loving oriented woman, however I don’t tend to find myself attracted to many men. I am a fickle woman, what can I say? Finicky moi. However, when I do find myself attracted to someone, it is usually intoxicatingly so.
  3. I went to a goth club in NYC (The Bank) when I was 17. I had been living in NYC for just short of 2 months. I was dancing in the middle of the main dance floor when this guy walked straight across the floor towards me like a shark parting the water, and started dancing with me. He took me by the hand, walked me of to the side, and we proceeded to make out with one another for about an hour, no words passed between us. The music engulfed the club, so it’s not like we would have been able to hear one another anyway. When my friends told me we had to go, he took me over to the bar in the back where it was quieter and where his friends were to give me his number. That was when I heard his voice for the first time. He sounded like Apu from The Simpsons. Fantasy wrecked. I never returned his calls. I actually feel some guilt over this to this day still. That was pretty shitty of me.
  4. When I had my first orgasm, I actually ran into the bathroom to look down between my legs to see if I could see what was moving down there. I was just certain I was going to see something moving.
  5. I lost my virginity to a guy the very same day I met him when I was 14. I was far too curious for my own good, too mature in some ways, and definitely not in others.
  6. I have a pet peeve about seeing men naked except for socks. Please, for the love of all that is god and holy, please do not attempt to be naked while wearing socks. I discovered this pet peeve from the above said virginity-taker.
  7. I had sex with my ex-FWB in my downstairs bathroom that was so fevered and animated that we ended up knocking the towel rack off the wall. This was Christmas Eve 2011. Merry Christmas to me!

I guess I need to nominate some blogs for those super-dee-duper beautiful blogger awardiness now. I think I will just pick random blogs that I enjoy reading now and then and a few of my blogging besties too! Plus, they are not all blogs of a sexual nature either. I am a well-rounded individual, dontcha know!

In no particular order, the nominees are…

  • The Redhead Bedhead – I’m pretty sure we were separated at birth! My bloggin’ bestie from Beantown. Read her now!
  • Break Room Stories – makes you laugh so hard you’ll have fountain sodas shooting out your nose, and also never want to eat out ever again!
  • The Phoenix Exultant – it’s about his life, and he’s damn cool. I also know him in real life! Oooooh
  • His Beloved Submissive – fun to read, and kinky too!
  • Creative Noodling – I just love this chick’s noodle!
  • The Fur Files – Fern made me totally forgive Canada for serving milk in bags. I aspire to be this awesome as consistently as she is!
  • Smut For Smarties – Nuff said! Lady Cheeky, the one, the only! Need I say more? Love her!

Wooohoo! One down, one more award to post later this week!

Me On The Joy of Kissing

I’m in far too good a mood today to leave you all in the weighted woe of my last post.  I really wrote most of those things down last night, after I was walking home in the chill of the dark autumn air.  Now, today, it’s a new feeling, a new turn of the wheel always turning.

I am feeling light, joyous, and content, and I want to share those feelings with all of you too.

Photo courtesy of The Trend Guys

And what better way to do so than to wax poetically on one of my very favorite acts of pleasure: kissing.

Kissing is making love with your mouth.   It’s exchanging secret wishes for something more.  I find it profoundly intimate and deeply sensual when done right.

A mouth that is hungry, but not voracious.  Lips that are soft, but deliberate.  A tongue that is eager to know the slippery contours of my partner’s tongue and lips.  I want a mouth that explores mine filled with desire. I want a man who explores my mouth with his like he’s painting his want across the canvas of my mouth.  Broad languid strokes of the tongue, lips that don’t wrestle, but instead embrace mine.  A tongue that traces the blossoming line of my parted lips, and knows the delicate balance of capture and release between lips, teeth and tongue.

I hate a rigid tongue.  A tongue that is stiff and flicks about like it doesn’t know where it’s going, or like it’s trying to engage in a sword fight with my tongue is a huge turn off.   I will immediately think you will make love to my body like this, and will not let you go any further.  Kissing to me, is the deal breaker. If I do not like the way you kiss me, I will never allow you any more of me.  I don’t believe that you can teach someone how to kiss.  You either know it innately, or not al all.

I want a mouth that seeks to know all of my hidden secrets, and that knows how to pull them out of me, without me ever speaking a word.

And I want a body that presses itself against mine, and becomes one with the shifting contours of my silhouette.  I body whose desire I can feel rampant and pleading.

It’s how I will kiss you, if you are someone I desire to touch this way.

I could spend an entire night just kissing…just knowing someone this way, and feeling the desperate anticipation cresting with each caress, mouths pressed deep.

Sometimes when I am masturbating, I move my mouth in an imagined kiss; trace my lower lip with the brush of my tongue, search with my lips for my invisible lover’s.  I kiss the creation of whomever I am fantasizing about in the moment, as if they were flesh and blood before me.  it instantly heightens my arousal.  I come quicker, and more intensely; the response is the same when I am with a partner, too.

I am an exceptionally orally fixated lover.  I need my mouth romanced.  I need to court the lust from your body with mine.

I want passion spoken to my soul.

Watch this.  Not these two people, but yes this song and this kissing.  Not he first kissing off the escalator (that looks too fake), but the kissing in bed.

“I am folded and unfolded, and unfolding”

“Pull me out from inside…I am ready…I am ready…I am fine”

Yes.  Please.

Treats, Not Tricks

It’s because I’m a firm believer of candy on Halloween, treats instead of tricks, that I have decided to share with you some tasty morsels.  Ok, so technically it’s now November 1st, but I haven’t gone to bed yet, so it still feels like the 31st to me.

Self-Portrait 2002

And so without further or due, I give you 10 Sexy Truths About Me.  They are in no particular order.

1) I have had sex in an apartment building hallway up near West 76th St. in Manhattan, a movie theater bathroom, a taxi cab, and my partner’s father’s bed.  All in the same night.

2) I LOVE giving head.  It is without a doubt as much a pleasure for me, as it is for you. This, I can assure you.  I have literally come inches away from having an orgasm just by going down on a lover, without them touching me.

3) The sight of my lover’s erection straining against his pants is intoxicatingly arousing for me.

4) I once gave a hand job to my boyfriend while we ordered dessert in a French restaurant in the Napa Valley.  It was mid-afternoon, and the quaint, but busy establishment was filled with people in business attire dining for lunch.  We were in travel clothing, and had stopped to have some lunch as we were heading to our destination.  I enjoyed having a conversation with our waiter, straight-faced, all the while all three of us knew what I was doing.  This remains said now ex-boyfriends favorite memories.

5) I have had sex with men, women, and men dressed like women.  I admit now to being 99.9% straight because I find nothing gives me that electric charge sexually like men.  I am all about the cock.  There, I said it.  Kinsey would agree that this is 100% normal for two such beliefs to occur in one body, simultaneously.

6) I had sex next to a roaring campfire in the woods.  To our knowledge, everyone we were camping with had gone off to bed.  Surprise, not everyone had!

7) I am incredibly vocal in bed, and enjoy it when my lover is also comfortable vocalizing their pleasure.  I love hearing moans, sighs, tremulous breathing, and the loss of control in their voice as I push them over the edge of their peak.

8)  I once tented out in a friend’s backyard, and apparently disturbed his neighbor so much with my orgasmic vocalization during sexy time, that the guy was out at 7am on a Saturday morning using a chainsaw to do yard work, as a way of showing his annoyance.  This is still a story that is shared to this day.

9)  Kissing is my absolute favorite thing to do.  If I don’t like the way you kiss me, we will never fuck.  I could spend an entire night just kissing someone, and swimming in that slow, deep, cresting rise in anticipation of more.  I am so orally connected in my eros that sometimes when I masturbate, I move my lips as if I was kissing someone, imagine their kiss, and instantly can see a rise in my sexual response.

10) I had an orgasm in my sleep last weekend that was so strong it woke me right up!

P.S. Enjoy the self-portrait…wax play is fun.  You should try it sometime!