Monday, December 31, 2007

Best Fucks of 2007

Year end post...after being on vacay mode for weeks (and still not blogging about the kid that turned me out), I finally get time for a post.

2007 was a very good year. Considering I barely went clubbing the first half of the year. Got 7 new numbers on my list with 2 repeats. Time has come to rank them.

This ranking has no official standing on the FINAL list which I hope will not come out for some time as it will only be FINAL when I stop fucking other guys)

9) Jr - guy I met at a club I go to in the Fort. It was first time at that club and he hooked me with a line that implied he didn't think I was Filipina. It seemed like a cool line but some guys dissed the line saying he just wanted to be different. Well it worked. He got my attention. And 30 minutes after we first hooked up we were on our way to a motel. He was ok. Big guy. Average size. Sorta blah.

8) Kv - the first bartender I ever slept with. The one I met in a beach last summer. He came back into circulation early this year. He had gained weight. And despite that he was still passionate and rough, forceful and dirty and he still loved it when I swallowed.


7) Bc - younger boy I hooked up with through networking site. He'd been bugging me for a while and I only gave in early this year. He was a gym rat, face ain't so pretty though. Mostly he went for force, like it was a race, like we were machines, which would be kind of cool except we weren't really... compatible machines...I think we needed a hardware driver. He was above average in size though, and the roughness was a major turn on at that time. Except it felt so...cold and synthesized and like I was doing a vibrator attached to a firm, smooth and muscled man-shaped object. He still gets #5 for being huge.

6) T - proof that friends can fuck and remain friends. A new experience for me, friends are normally off limits no matter how much I wonder how they are in bed. Still, quite a pleasant surprise. He still hasn't given me a proper, mind-blowing orgasm though. Asshole. Well quickies are restricting.

5) Xn - Ex-sex rocks. 'Nuff said. Though the chemistry we used to have has very obviously dissipated, he can still manage to rock my boat. Though he has gotten fat. He's still long.

4) A - My college lust. Ah Christ. Butter caramel colored skin that was smooth and silky all over. great toned lean body and a face as pretty as a girls. I loved the way he screamed "Oh God" when he came.

3) Ry - Baby boy I have not even begun to post about. There's something about younger boys that just gets me. I don't normally like them, as most young-ish looking males aged 19-21 remind me of my younger brother in some indiscernible way. However I bumped into Ry at just the time when I needed and wanted to break the celibacy cycle and fuck like crazy. And we did. Of course he was really drunk and had to be seduced to get the nerves to do it (we were at a friend's house), but he was very very good. I was sore for 3 days after being slammed, bitten, pressed, pushed and basically almost battered. He knows how to eat pussy and I went home smelling like his mouth, that was basically because he licked me from forehead to knee. And no, it's not as icky as it sounds.

2) H - of course. What year end countdown of mine would be complete without the memorable H. The guy I let fuck my body, mind and emotions. I'm not a victim don't worry, I wanted it to. Old man with huge penis and 17 years of experience. Plus a long tongue and a desire to make up for being a late bloomer.

1) V - he beats out H for 7 reasons: 7 orgasms in one 3 hour fucking marathon. There's no other explanation needed is there?

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Turned Out

Got turned out by a young man. Sore all over. Will post more details when I've recovered. My body is sore and I'm marked.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Beauty


One of the most beautiful vintage pictures I have seen. Nude or otherwise. The composition is brilliant. The light, the angle of her body, her face turned away from the camera, not in shyness but as if she insists her body is in her own possession. This is not a woman objectified, this is a real woman.

Grabbed from Eye Candy Blog.

I pledge to throw off all old sexual sins and mistakes. Remove and obliterate any traces of the naive stupid girl brought up in traditional and conventional Filipino values.

Not that my family is conventional. Hell no.

I'm pulling up all hang-ups and misconceptions by the roots to make way for real and honest sex. Change this whole cycle of misinformation and ignorance that young girls today have. That young Filipina girls have. Fuck the guilt trips and the notions of sex as sin. And the notion that sex has to mean something other than pure unadulterated pleasure.

Sure I'm guilty of that sometimes. God that was one of the greatest mistakes I made this year. Then I am human despite being a mutant.

Fuck tradition and the old guard. Despite the notion that there are a lot of liberated girls are in this country right now they still make the same old mistakes of thinking sex means something. It doesn't have to mean anything. It's free, pure, fluid.

God I feel high.

No more guilt trips and hiding emotions and mixing up and mistakes and shit. Let this be real. Let sex be good and fucking be primal.

Let's spread the love. And never the virus.

Sex Songs

Music gets me off. As I've posted earlier. I enjoy it when people communicate through song. I feel like my whole life is a tripped up musical.

I'd rather not have a soundtrack to sex though. I'd much rather hear my own moans when someone's fucking me. That would get me off more than any studio beats could. However music helps get to the point of no fucking turning back.

One of the most annoying things that happened to me during sex actually had music involved with it. I was seeing (fucking) this guy who used to come over to my house a lot. He'd visit me when my parents were out and we'd send our maid on some random unnecessary task and he'd pull me to my room.

This guy was insanely hot. Tall, lanky and my age, which meant I considered him younger than I because I prefer older men. He was a drummer, one of those lost creatures who would never really get their music or band out, the kind I was a sucker for.

Anyway we were fucking and he was playing this hardcore shit like Meshuggah or Behemoth, some thing like that. And we were flying on doobie and he was pounding me really hard and fast and his hips were thrusting in time with the fucking drum beats and I was about to flow and gush. Then his feet got tangled in the electric cord of my player. And...

He. Fucking. Stopped.

Dude went over to the fucking player. Plugged it back in. Searched for the exact tract that was playing and went back on top of me for another go.

I will never forget him. Mostly because of that and the fact he also went whacko on my ass under different circumstances.

Sex Songs now. I've always been asked what song would be good to have sex to. And since my nipples are still hard from getting unceremoniously sucked and nibbled, I wanted to answer that now.

  1. Animal by Nine Inch Nails
  2. Glorybox by Portishead
  3. Rev 22:20 by Puscifer
  4. Unpredictable by Jamie Foxx
  5. Dito Tayo sa Dilim by Pedicab
  6. Turning my Safety Off by Sinosikat
  7. Butterfly Carnival by Sandwich (the old one with Marc Abaya)
  8. Woman by Maroon 5
  9. Moneymaker by Rilo Kiley
  10. Are You Gonna Go My Way by Lenny Kravitz
If I ever wanted to be fucked to the tune of any song, these would be it. But I think I might not even realize they're playing once I'm in the zone.

New Management

J.G. is dead. I killed her.

Well, not really. Just making a few changes.

The old way was boring. The new way is exciting.

To the few people who know who I really am...shhh....be vewy vewy quiet, I'm hunting rabbits.


The Rules

Ok, needless to say I had my nipples sucked and bitten at the office restroom this morning. Let's just get that out of the way.

The culprit? Who else but the office flirtation O?

There's really nothing surprising about that. What surprised me was the online conversation after.

We were online and I ragged on him for ripping my top. It wasn't torn, some stitches were just ripped as he pulled my top down to get at my nipples. There weren't any visible holes, the neckline just got a whole lot wider and lower.

I got horny needless to say. Just having both my nipples sucked makes me horny. I know I know some women have more self control, well then don't call me a woman if that makes you more comfortable, all I know is I get horny quickly.

Anyhoo.... I teased him about fucking me, which brings us back to this post way way back in March. He quipped that him fucking me was against the rules. Because sex was out of the question, we were only supposed to tease each other. If we had sex it might ruin our insane, complex and mutually beneficial friendship. I just had a couple of concerns:

  1. When did these rules get created? And why did I not become aware that there were actual rules? Sure he always said we wouldn't fuck cos I was (and/or sleeping with one of ) his friend(s). But I wasn't aware there were actual rules.
  2. I've had sex with friends. Sure it's messed up some friendships, which is inevitable when one wants more than the other (oh yes listen to me spout that shit now, wisdom I could've used about 3 months ago), but out of the 3 actual friends (meaning people I did consider friends not guys I befriended just so I'd lull them into complacency and use them) that I had sex with it went ok with 2 out of 3. I mean come on, those are good odds right?
  3. Uherm, if we're not supposed to have sex, that should include oral sex. He's already come twice in my mouth. And those 2 orgasms were very very good for him. Which is why he's still eager for a repeat blow job. This is very unfair.
Ok, I get the whole friendship thing, because there are just some friends you will never ever sleep with because you just don't ever want to (e.g.: boss Bv, blockmate Fz and org mate Jq), there are also guys you would never want to go there because the friendship is just too special (papa bear Bc [cos he will prolly scold me], sweetie Ml [because he'll prolly confess to Bc about it] and baby boy Cl).

Now the difference between the first and second batch of friends is that the first batch does not arouse me at all. There's something essential missing from them that makes them somehow repulsive to me. I'm not saying they're ugly, I actually have quite few unattractive friends, they just aren't my type.

The second list of names is a bit harder. I actually feel a certain attraction towards these people. These are actually my hot friends. I have actually considered fucking them. And several people actually do think that there's something going on between Ml and I. I wish. Ml's a cutie but no....Nothing like that.

In the movie When Harry Met Sally, Harry hypothesized that a man and a woman can't be friends, because the sex part always gets in the way. But really, there are worse things than having sex with a friend.

You Are a Flashy Red Bra!

Outgoing, friendly, and fascinating.
You're a charmer, with your pick of the men.
But you want a man who's as magnetic as you are.
You need someone who can keep up with your all night gab fests!

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Dear friend Mq recently read this blog and complained complained that it's all about H. Which is partly true. And definitely better than complaining that this is all about sex.

To those who remember, this blog was started way back in March of this year to hide the fact that I was fucking with a guy who worked in the same office as I did, the ever horny O. This blog was also created at the suggestion of friend R, who suggested that using an alternate/secret blog for my sexcapades would be better to maintain a certain anonymity when I was pointing fingers to all the fuckers I knew.

The first blog was me coming from a 7 month celibacy. And several things have shaped this blog, mostly the saga and drama of the triumvirate of sex: H, V and O. The first few posts were about O, then some were about V and then several long and winding posts about H that ended in this current state of rehashing and rethinking all my past exploits for the benefit of keeping up a sex blog and to feed my undying sexual desires.

Oh yeah, I am still horny. Hornier than ever, at times of great weakness I even contemplated seeking H for some fucking. Thank God I didn't cos he already had a replacement, er, well, girlfriend really, not a replacement, a return to his previous pre-J life.

When Mq told me that my blog was all about H, it took me a couple of beats before I could counter with "well, yeah you're talking all about D(her ex)". And of course, the ever omnipresent response, "we can't help what we feel".

True, true. Mq called me in a state of high agitation because the new guy she was seeing, a certain Mr, was acting like an asshole. I almost told her what Bv told me, "all men are assholes".

Mq wanted the satisfaction of hitting Mr and hurting him physically. Never really had that, all my revenge fantasies centered on me coming back into random ex-lovers lives and showing them how regretful they really are that they left me, or rather, that I left them. It's weird really, I suddenly realized that I was always the dumper, the one who walks away, the one who leaves, yet I always felt the victim.

I rationalize it by saying that I always left the moment I sensed something was different, or off. But fact of the matter is, I was always the one that walked away. Sure H started being different. X started feeling difficult. All the other guys were giving up and shit got too hard to deal with.

I've stopped feeling it was my fault, and I'd stopped feeling it was their fault as well. Being older, I know that some things will never work, and some things eventually will. That and that I can't help feeling how I feel, and I refuse to feel guilty that I feel horny or angry or loving or affectionate or frustrated or upset or annoyed.

I can be annoyed now and deal with it in my own way. I can be horny now and masturbate. I can remember H and remember how it feels and still feel giddy and happy. I need emotion in my life. Real, raw violent emotion and I am addicted to drama. I don't need sanity really, I want and crave some sort insane thing gripping me.

Feeling something, and having people tell you not to feel that thing doesn't help. It's like a round peg and a square hole. I've been constantly flogged by friends for feeling drawn to X or being awkward around H or hating people. I can't help that.

Give me the satisfaction of feeling how I feel and don't tell me not to feel it. I rarely feel real emotion towards people, please don't take that away from me. Most of the time i just feel bored and agitated and unsatisfied with life. I like drama and I often create it. I coast from moment to moment on a giant wave of emotion and I get drawn to all the wrong people, with all my insane friends and all my weird men and all the fucked up things I go through.

This is life as I like it, messy and entertaining and tiring and painful. I like working a lot. I like doing a lot of things all at the same time. Don't prosecute me for it.

Liking H was good. And continuing to reminisce that feeling without acting on it, while at the same time accepting that it's over is fine. I can't help how I feel. Deal with it.

Sure I'm guilty of the same thing, when people are overindulgent and wallow in misery and self-pity, I mostly tell them to get off their lazy asses and stop it. I do it too.

But I will work harder and stop feeling guilty. And I will be less hard on other people.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Is it abnormal to masturbate to completion 3 times a day? I mean, is that so wrong?

Some guys are amazed that I do this. It's not common for girls I think. Hell I still know girls who don't even know how to masturbate, which is very very sad. There's nothing wrong with masturbation, or self-love or rubbing one out. It's very stimulating and relaxing and relieves stress. If I don't do it at least once a day I get very very cranky and annoyed and upset. Whenever I have events that entitle me to share a room and bathroom with other people for a long time, the first thing I do when I get to my own room is fuck myself.

I don't do it with toys or implements. I have two hands after all. Though I may some day invest in a good vibrator just to see what it's like. I have experimented with a mini massager that is somehow like a small bullet vibe, but it's still quite different.

I started masturbating when I was about...well...I'm not quite sure...11 or 12 I guess. I stumbled across a book that was stashed somewhere in the house. The book was old, the pages were brown and the covers were torn off. My favorite position then was lying on top of a long pillow, my body nestled perfectly in that softness, as I read whatever books I could get my hands on.
This particular book was very naughty. It was an adult romance novel, where I originally thought the word "loins" was a typo for lions and could not imagine why people would feel a burning in the king of the jungle.

I read the book, becoming more and more interested the longer I read. Soon I felt a warmth spreading somewhere, that place that people apparently called loins. It seemed almost natural to rub my pussy against the pillow and rock my body gently. Back and forth and back and forth caressing my then hidden flower. It felt good so I kept doing it faster and faster, the book forgotten. Then the sparks came, the electricity shooting from the center of my body racing down my legs and coursing through my arms. That started it.

I started searching for those discarded tabloids in the house, the ones that had those similar passages in sleazier terms. In fact the sleaze had a harder effect on me. I guess because they were so taboo and base that I kept coming and coming and feeling those waterfalls of diamonds and waves of pleasure the adult novels kept referring to.

I got older and started experimenting with my hands. Using a mirror to stare at my pussy, shaving all my pubic hair off, tracing the folds of my labia, playing with my nipples, at one point licking my own nipples (I used to be able to reach them with my tongue, now I can't cos they got smaller when I lost weight, damn), finding all my sensitive spots, my wrists, of course my nipples, my thighs, certainly my clit.

Porn still doesn't do it for me. I bookmarked an erotica site so that I could access their stories 24/7. Sure they're written by amateurs and some of them suck but some are really good. I also have stored erotica by Anne Rice that can give me what I want. Some porn turns me on, not all of it though. I'd rather use my imagination sometimes.

O once asked me what I think of when I touch myself. Aside from erotica, I think about people I've fucked or people I would like to fuck. At this point I rarely fantasize about celebrities. I'd rather wonder, or remember, how it's like to fuck people. But I like rehashing escapades. H still visits me at night, so does V and X and O and K and sometimes I imagine F or A.

I love masturbating, it's one of the last things I do at night and often the first thing I do in the morning. It's exhilarating. At least when I do it myself I control it. I own it. That orgasm is mine. No one else to share it with. No one who has to come too. I don't have to worry about any other person just me. Selfish I know. But I really really love it.

And the masturbation doesn't stop when I'm in a regular sexual relationship. I think I masturbated more when I was seeing people regularly. When I was still sleeping with V, I'd enjoy reliving our experiences over and over and pushing them to new heights. Same with X and H and all the others.

Once, before I started sleeping with him, H told me he'd fantasize about me in the shower but he might objectify me, I told him to go ahead cos I was used to it. He thought I got offended. I didn't. I know full well men masturbate cos I do. I know they think about people who may not necessarily think of them the same way but I accept that, I do. If I pass by a hot guy and eye contact is established even briefly, he will make an appearance in my nighttime stroke session. I know guys do it too, so what's the fuss?

During a recent chat with O, he said that he wanted to fuck me but can't so he'd just masturbate thinking about me. I said that was fine. Because I have masturbated thinking about him. There's nothing wrong with that.

Masturbation is ultimately very very different from sex. Because it's all about fantasy, you being in yourself, loving yourself, even if you use someone else's face and body in your mind to fulfill it. God I love masturbation. And I pity all the girls who have never tried it.

Monday, December 17, 2007

As my friend E pointed out, this song played twice as we were leaving the Den early early Saturday morning.

Now, some people say that actions speak louder than words. I say actually looking for a song on an iPod playlist and playing it loudly through speakers says a whole lot more. This is the iPod generation's version of that scene in Say Anything wher John Cusack stands outside a girl's window with a boombox.


H is no stranger to using music to lull me. I am a beast after all. And it is his Den.

The first time we were going to have sex he played a song with lines that went, "All I wanna do is make love to you..." and whenever I remember that I just get a smile on my face remembering his scrawny ass lip synching and doing a pseudo interpretative dance. During the times when he was still trying to charm his way into my pussy he would always ask me what songs I liked to hear. He'd play Divinyls I Touch Myself, Bon Jovi's You Give Love a Bad Name and lots of random songs. He did say he got used to my insane facial expressions whenever I would hear a song I liked or one that reminded me of something.

My ex was the same. We got into weird duets after we broke up, the J.Lo and Ja Rule "Ain't it Funny", the Jay-Z and Beyonce "Bonnie and Clyde" and yes once when I asked him what he was doing, he pressed his phone against some speakers and I heard the line, "cos I'm dying inside...and nobody knows it but me". X was the same guy who insisted I listen to My Immortal by Evanescence and really really wanted me to like You're Beautiful by James Blundt because it was about unrequited love.

That being said, I like music. And it says more for me than words or actions ever can. Mostly because my words and actions really have conflict with the way I feel. And I really like inappropriate guys who like music too. Though admittedly X was way hotter than H but H was a whole lot smarter and older but X kinda treated me better and now my whole comparison is shit.

Anyway, I've been chatting with O and I teased him that i went back to Den cos I knew that by the time we weren't colleagues anymore in the same office and I wanted to see him all I had to do was say "Den" and he'd agree to meet me. It's true. I adore O. It's insane to think I do because sometimes he belittles me and he thinks I am a whore and he pimped me to all his friends and attempted to pimp me some more but I have to admit he is charming and funny and has good business sense.

I want to remain friends with him. However, the evil Bv's get-out-of-jail-free card statement "It's a sign of maturity to be friends with ex lovers"does not invoke in me a desire to be friends with H. Or to start hanging out at Den regularly.

I do not care for blanket definitions of maturity. And I do not want to be friends with H. Sure. I will miss him. He is a funny and amusing guy. But he cares nothing for me. Not including the whole care=I wanna fuck your brains out department. Fuck-my-brains-out he wanted. The whole curiosity of I-wonder-what's-going-on-with-this-girl-why-is-she-depressed care, that was what was missing.

I reserve the right to talk about my experiences with him, they are my experiences. I reserve the right to laugh and remember the funny feelings I felt when I was with him. But I know that nothing, even if he gained weight or stopped wearing guyliner or started acting age appropriate, not even because he's smart or witty or funny, none of that, will make me want to be his friend anytime soon.

O I adore. H? Nah. I will have to deal with him. But I don't have to like him. Not anymore or never again or as a friend.

I can't even deal with some of my current friends how do I deal with someone who never was one?

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Still in Six Feet Under mode. Watching all the episodes I never got to watch cos I was always too busy to watch them when the series was actually still running.

Claire used the term Cracking Open My Eye. It was something her art teacher told her she needed to do. A new way of seeing things. What I need is a new way of living life, of feeling.

I was supposed to go to a Tattoo Expo somewhere with E but I got pissed off pretty early cos I fired my driver. Well, he was an idiot who was getting to comfortable by stealing money and never being available and overall generally irresponsible.

I ended up in a mall with E and buying some books and watching a movie and getting generally pissed off because it was hot and traffic was hell.

The movie was ok. Blah. It was Elizabeth: The Golden Age and the books were As Seen on TV and The Astrological Diary of God. Book sale books that I haven't even read yet.

What I learned is that I am a bit unhappy with how my life was going. It's not so much where it is now, where I am now is a long way from where I was a year ago. Even the fact that I actually ended up feeling for a guy, albeit the wrong guy, is a bit of a breakthrough. The unhappiness stems from the fact that I am very very vague and confused and scared where this life is going.

Then I had this realization, I need a new way to live, I need to crack open my soul. Figure out my way through life. Do what I really want to do, live how I want to live. Pursue my passions, my dreams my fantasies. Fuck who I want to fuck. Write what want to write.

I realized how stupid pining over H was. When we first met, he was still with his then-and-now-again girlfriend. And it is possible that he broke up with her in the 2 days between then and when he asked O for my number. The point is that, well, I didn't want him then. And O was right I knew H wasn't relationship material.

I think I've been using him as an excuse to feel. To grieve to bitch and moan. I don't want excuses anymore. I need to crack open my soul.

I realized I've been stupid for being pissed off that some of my friends are losers. That some of them are trying to fuck people who will never fuck them. It pisses me off that some of them have zero personality and are boring and that hey upset me with their petty mistakes and their close mindedness and their insecurities and their faults and beliefs and their pretensions and their nasty gritty real life errors.

They are human. And though I may be hard on myself I don't need to be hard on them. Granted that I already change friends and leave out ones that feel like they are too ugly or needy or broken or dirty or too much work. Ever searching for the elusive perfect and nice and wonderful friends who are attractive and ambitious and talented and creative. Well there's no one like that. Not that I know of anyway.

I should also get used to the fact that men will think whatever they want to think about me. No matter what I'm wearing no matter what I do or say or try or how I act. They will always think I am difficult and weird and insane or stereotypical or slutty or bitchy or bratty.

I can change and be nicer, a sanitized version of myself, a shadow of who I currently am. Maybe, then maybe I could be content. Make it easier on myself and everyone else around me by being satisfied.

Then I wouldn't be me. I wouldn't be hungry or needy or wanting things. I'd just be another typical girl working a job that I care nothing for but pays my bills and waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up at the end of work each day and then taking me home.

Blah blah blah blah blah. I'm such a whiner.

My soul needs to be cracked open. Open. Like a shell. I need to remove all these fears and face all these demons. I need to exorcise my old and defective beliefs.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Well yes. Bv is now evil.

Funny how you start to avoid certain places things and people and it acquires this monumental image in your life. That was the kind of insane twisted place that bar where I met H,V and O took in my mind.

For fun, let's just take a moment to actually give a name to the bar. I'm sick and tired of referring to it as the place where I hooked up with so many guys who I ended up fucking. Let's call it the Den. Like Den of Lions or Dominatrix Den or something like that.

So I have avoided the Den since I stopped seeing H. It was part self preservation part moping.

Last night started out like a typical Friday. I was supposed to go with E and Bv to a club where I could dance and get my groove on. Shit hit the fan when this upscale bar we wanted to hit was closed for renovation. Actually there was already an upgraded bar, which meant more expensive. We tried to go to another bar, but it was....not conducive for dancing. We ended up in line for another bar.

In line, there was this Arabic dude who kept giving me the eye. He looked at me from head to toe and I guess he was waiting for me to acknowledge him. I didn't. Bv and E were whining. I suddenly said, "I have a really evil thought, let's go to Den."

Now, O has recently brought up the chance of me going to Den and seeing H again. I've been worried about it, since I was about to resign and I wanted to remain friends with O. I adore O. Regardless of the whole crazy groping and sexual thing. I want to remain friends with him for a very long time.

However friendship with O meant I would eventually have to learn to be friendly, or at the very least, civil with H and possibly V. V is not a problem. He was the one who got weird after he got a girlfriend. V. well now. That's totally different.

I'd gone back to Den after I stopped seeing H. But that was on a night when I was sure he wouldn't be there.

So last night, I asked C where he was. And he said he was at another club but that he was gonna hit Den after. So Bv, E and I decided to go to the club where C was. We left and got into the car. As our car was passing by the front of the club we had just decided to leave, I saw the Arabian guy. And he growled at me. Think Simba gone horribly wrong. It was really gross.

On the way to the club where C was, Bv started telling me to face my demons for Christmas and try to see H and face him and suck it up and deal with it.

So we went. And H was there. His new girlfriend was there. V was there. V's girlfriend was there. And eventually C was there with a girl who might eventually but is currently not his girlfriend.

H was trying to be nice. It's funny. I have no actual desire to be friends with H. I know someday I would have to deal with him if I want to be friends with O.

I felt really queasy about going. I didn't want to look at him. Sure we spoke. I thought I was fine. But Bv has just pointed out that I was trying to be standoffish and cool. He said I was trying too hard.

A part of me wanted to go to Den. Partly because I knew I looked hot last night. it was a pretty good hair day.

Good thing Bv's friends came. 3 guys and a girl. The girl was really hot. She admitted being bi and I just felt this insane energy and I wanted her.

The guys were cute too. Somehow they all looked like someone I'd slept with.

I thanked Bv for bringing me. It was cathartic and final and just insanely finished.

Bye bye H. Bye bye meaningless sexual conquests of Den. Bye bye V and the rest and everyone who knew I'd had sex with a lot of people from there. Den is just another bar. I don't see what the big deal was.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Wednesday Sexy Time.

Sometimes, when you decide to take a break from the scene and just relax for a while, you get off on something that seems innocent but really isn't. There's a scene in Queer as Folk US where Brian Kinney and a hot intern pass by each other in the hallway and they make intense, smoldering eye contact. Brian tells Mikey afterward that he had sex with that intern in that one look. That's what flirting is. Not the sex part really. But a brain flexing its muscles and checking what another brain can do. It's mental...like sex for brains.

You feel caresses not given and read the other person's mind. There's some touching, some groping, some grabbing, but it's all done with the eyes. Not the words, not the hands, just the eyes.

I've seen how other people flirt with each other. There's a similarity in the way girls look at a guy they're flirting with. That kind of open eyed teasing thing most girls do. And some girls do it with slanted half closed lids, their heads bent down, staring at another guy sideways, then there lips curve slowly in a half smile.

Men respond to it. Especially if the girl is hot. But mostly they respond to it because the thought that a woman is currently imagining doing dirty things to them turns them on. Men like to think women can and will have sex with them whenever they wish. In their minds they are all in search of the elusive perfect fuck buddy. The girl who is hot, never wants relationships, doesn't talk too much, always ready and never gets her period at the wrong time. They also imagine a woman who wants to have sex with them all the time.

Flirting is best done simply and playfully, never too agessive. Agressive fliro eting makes me think that a guy thinks this is a hunt, and I am some deer the lion wants to eat alive. The eating is not my problem. The eating would be heavenly. But the whole testosterone fueled anger and rage behind it is not.

Playful light and cerebral is how flirting should be done. There are several different styles employed by most players I know. They all mostly have 1 thing in common, they make girls comfortable with the player, they make girls feel safe and at home. H and C have this down to a science. And yes, older dudes do play better than younger ones. They already have a fixed style, one that suites them.

The whole funny self deprecating humor of H serves him well in making women feel at home, though the dropping of pants highly depends on a girls tolerance for skin and bones. C's happy-go-lucky late night show host focus makes women want to hug him like he's her best friend yet also makes them want to see what it's like to wrap her legs around those dancing hips.

There are also guys who are funny and know how to talk to girls yet do not inspire much pant dropping. And also men who cannot for the life of them flirt yet end up getting laid almost everyday. B is nice and yes he knows how to treat girls yet he is too nice to be thought of as a fuck buddy. Women who play think of him as a guy who is too nice to play with, but I guess that depends on your liking for kimchi. O is funny and quite often rude and insensitive, yet his charm is an acquired taste that not everyone will welcome. V rarely talks, but when he talks, it is always intense and teaing and he is hot enough to get away with saying things like "I want to fuck you" on a regular basis. F is too nice, yet when he bends his head and smiles at me from underneath his long bangs with his eyes peeking playfully, it makes me wonder what it is like to fuck him, makes me want to try to fuck his brains out. Dear M who is beefy and has exquisite features, gets away with his funny and sweet nature as well as looking pretty while women fall all over him. A says so many things yet it is his eyes that made me want to wrap press my body against his.

Do I have a flirting style? One that works? Admittedly, I still do not dare approach a guy or girl out of the blue and try to generate a conversation or a connection out of thin air. In clubs I dance, if someone talks to me and I like how they appear to be, I respond. If not I try to smile as politely as I can and shoo them away.

I had some fun groping with O Wednesday. Despite everything it was still clean harmless fun. I do not take these little things seriously. Like I keep explaining to concerned friends, flirting with O is a natural consequence of being 2 horny people who are friends.

Sometimes I think I like the flirting more than the post sex talk. Flirting is better than foreplay. The verbal sparring pales in comparison to the body language. The way a man holds his body against a woman he wants to bed. The way women tilt their heads and cross their legs. Hands straying. Eyes maintaining contact.

See when I flirt with someone, in my mind, I've already fucked them. And it is the chemistry I see with my mind's eye that makes me decide whether to go ahead or stand down.

Having guys check out my ass makes me wet too. Yes, this self imposed hiatus is working out just fine. Gotta fine tune the engines for now.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Yes I still haven't gotten laid. Which is kind of sad, yet kind of...blah.

Anyway, just because I haven't been knocking boots with anyone doesn't mean I'm deprived of sex. Human warmth yes, but sex no. Let me sing "I have two hands, the left and the right..."

Anyway, one of the greatest things I miss about having sex with another person is the interaction, two creatures feeding off each other's energy like any creative partnership. Of course having someone on top of you and pounding the living hell out of you is one of the greatest experiences, it's just so primal, so real and so honest. Of course, being humans, it all ends up being more than that, but hey, that's missing the point.

Sex Talk is brilliant. I've heard men say the best and worst things during sex. Men aren't that smart, granted, add a naked woman, a bed, and a warm tight glove enveloping their penises and brains fly right out the window.

Eloquent men get me though. Men who fuck me with words. Daaaamn. But everyone can slip. Even though I have that rule where I don't believe things men say to me in bed, they still pretty much stick and serve to heighten, or bring down, the experience.

Here are some of the best and some of the worst things men have said during sex:

WORST:

5) Did you come already? (times 5 or more)

I appreciate the fact that they care enough to ask. Men can be pretty clueless about these things. When it's so obvious that they already want to spew and they're impatiently waiting for me to come so they can get their turn. It's like a kid whining in the backseat, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" ad infinitum.

4) Do you want to be on top/on your hands and knees/change position?

Being polite is nice when we are outside in the real world, but when we are in a hot steamy room fucking each other's brains out in an old, beautiful and primal dance which was the way of our ancestors, politeness is not only unnecessary but a let down. I want to be taken, TAKEN, so take me. I once had a man tell me to climb on top of him, while that didn't make the list below, it's still way more desirable than, do you wanna?


3) You like that?

Like most things in the list, there could be a way and a type of guy to say this and sound sexy. But often it only comes out insecure where they're not sure what they're doing is right.It's nice to be considerate, I appreciate the effort, but it's just sooo...unsure. Women give cues that what men do are good, especially me with my loud moaning, so please, try to figure it out and get tips.

2) Thank you.

Am I a whore that just finished a service for you? Was that a fuck or a favor? Might as well give me some cash rather than make me feel like what happened was an obligation with a "thank you".

1) Want me to fuck your mom?

It might work in porn, but no. Not for me.


BEST

5) Oh you are a bad girl. (said in smug voice)

Perfect as he massages my ass while doggy fucking.

4) Does J love to fuck?

Questions about sex where he refers to me in the third person. Priceless. Especially when I'm wildly bouncing on his cock.

3) Oh God you're gonna make me come so fast.

It makes me feel like I am the hottest thing out there. Of course if a guy says this, he has to make sure I'm gonna come fast too. But hearing the effect you have on someone may be one of the fastest ways to make girls come.

2) I want to watch you come while you're on top of me.

Straight. Blunt. Direct to the point. And yet hot and expectant with a promise of an orgasm.

1) Tell me what you want.

Sure I like to be taken. But a man who can pull off saying this in a husky and commanding voice that just whispers in my ear as he teases me with his cock barely touching my pussy is goddamn amazing.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

I have been sleep deprived for some time now. Several days which stretch out to weeks which turns into months. Its working 2 jobs. And writing/ blogging/ watching my DVDs and reading.

But amazingly, I was able to hit some serious REM stage shuteye last night. I ended up dreaming about recently reunited best friend E. In the dream E had one of her infamous breakdowns and jumped off a bridge into a river to emerge naked. Yes it made no sense. But some words of Dream E stayed with me. "Since you know how I am you wouldn't be surprised if I did this'" she said before she jumped.

And yes Dream E was right. I was used to her crap. I used to worry about her. Now I don't. I guess I've stopped caring.

Girls have this weird insane thing called friendship. A friendship between women is intense and emotional and sexual and painful all at the same time. I've honestly had sex dreams about all my really good girl friends. And the sex dreams were very realistic.

I've also ragged on almost all my friends at one point in time. About how they treated me, how they really weren't as pretty as they thought they were. About what they were doing wrong with their lives.

Girls have this whole weird plethora of hate and envy and anger and jealousy that never really comes out. Boys have this too. But they resolve it pretty quickly with a fistfight. Girls either ignore it or get over it.

I'm sure I'm not the only one like this. My friends have all at one point or another made snide remarks about my weight, my looks and my life. And yes I envy people who can live in complete and total harmony.

However. My girls are fierce, messed up and slightly psychotic creatures who have some self esteem issues and a lot of self love. Some friction is understandable.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

Given I am watching the entire 5 seasons of Six Feet Under once again, and am in the middle of season 1, I am suddenly confronted with the very real evidence of my taste in insane men: Billy Chenowith.

For those who are familiar with the quirky series, Billy Chenowith is the manic-depressive brother of Brenda, Nate's girlfriend at the beginning of the TV series.

Billy Chenowith is insane. Clinically diagnosed as insane. Well, to be politically correct, he is a clinically diagnosed manic depressive. And also bipolar.

I wanted him so bad when I first saw him throw a temper tantrum on Six Feet Under. I had sex dreams for days.

God I loved seeing Billy on that show. There are so many reasons for me to like him. All my weird little things on the checklist.

Older. Check!

Insane. Check!

Really messy hair. Check!

Scruffy looking. Check!

And I'm seeing him again now that my hormones are all shooting up and I can't keep up with all this horniness. I once said that the ideal man will be a mix of H and V. And I just realized if that fusion could really happen, that mixture would turn out like Billy Chenowith: deranged, perpetually high, talented, intelligent and very very sexy.

I miss being a hub of sex. I miss walking into a bar and knowing that I've had sex with at least 2 people in the place.

I have no idea why. Well, I guess I do. The notoriety, the rep that makes me wanna wring my hands. I miss the drama I guess. Or the perceived drama.

Yes I am a drama queen. I think one of the reasons I've been bored is because I'm no longer fucking anyone, I'm no longer wondering if I really really like someone, I'm no longer tortured because someone I liked doesn't like me enough, I'm no longer wondering if I should sleep with a friend, or if I should sleep with a friend in again.

I've stayed away from regular hotspots. But even when I went anywhere, I'd just crawl in my shell. I can't be like other people, like cool dude C, free, carefree and careless.

I don't know if I just want to get laid or if I want to get out or I want to flirt or I want to date. I don't know.

I kinda miss being with someone. Talking. Laughing. I guess I've been missing those things since I started sleeping with H, which signaled the end of the "wooing" period.

Yes yes, in the end H did treat me like a two-bit whore, but hey, we had a nice ride. It wasn't that bad. I was mostly taking care of things for us, but it was what I wanted to do. When a guy I want to have sex with can't spring for a room, I'll pay for the freakin room. And yes, I have done that for H.

I guess the boring thing is that everything gets old after a while. Like I keep telling our youngest mah jong playing friend (my baby boy), you get into this whole cycle of wanting sex and getting a whole lot of sex, so much that it consumes you, it seems to define you, you indulge in it, revel in it and love it. That sex is great. it's mind blowing, earth shattering, orgasm inducing delicious yummy tingles. With a variety of partners of course. Then the shift comes and you just stop wanting it.

Then you stop going out and stay home and just relaaaaax. Start being celibate. Wear clothes that are a bit more conservative. Get bored when you're out.Then you start wanting it again.

And it goes on and on and on. It never really stops. We always want what we can't have. And life always catches up with us.

I guess I just really really miss non-self induced orgasms. I miss the feel of a man's skin (which feels really different from women's skin).

Or I really am just bored.

Or maybe I am insane.

Blah Blah Blah.

I am acting like a ditz.