2007 draws to a close
So, being the eternally picky lover that I am, I think I have finally succeeded in learning to channel my sex drive into creative energy. I am still far, far from that mindset which many spiritual gurus seem to have, which is that of replacing sex with creativity or something, and that is very definitely not a goal for me, but it is a huge relief to be able to cope better. I'm also just functioning better as a human, on all levels. That's why this blog has been dead. After the chap who preferred to watch Sky News than fuck me, nothing was going on here.
However, this year did unexpectedly perk up near the end. There was a brief but pleasant roll in the hay with a former lover whom I have described in these pages before; we were both insanely tired, and it was more of a token "I still find you attractive" kind of encounter, but it was still very nice. And then there was a far more exciting new experience - yet another work liaison, but harmless and quite thoroughly delicious. I walked away from the experience feeling suffused with an incredible, positive energy, inspired beyond belief, in awe of the beauty of the world, and somehow infused with this very amazing man's mojo. I'll write a drippy sexy entry about it some other time and veil it in enough mystery to be unrecognisable to him, should he ever come across this blog... funny, I let him see my true self and we exchanged something on a very important level, but I would keep this blog a secret from him, and all my other lovers? Would any of them recognise themselves? Why do I still feel compelled to come back here and write about these things if they are so secret? And what was it about this creature and our encounter that felt so different to me? Was it just me with my newfound strength and solidity, or did something more than pheromones pass between us? Is there anything more than pheromones?
Time to meditate on these questions. And again channel all that mojo into creativity.
... and it's back!
Just now, for the first time in months, I found myself feeling genuinely horny and tingly with no provocation whatsoever.
It feels indescribably good to have my mojo back - I nearly squealed out loud!
This must be a sign that I'm getting back to normal (normal for me, which is all I care about). Am heaving a huge sigh of relief as I type.
I have been veritably limping along these past few weeks. It's as though various parts of my personality had gone into hibernation while I gently sorted myself out and rested - it has been very good, but slightly unnerving. I have done my level best not to worry too much and the good news is that I think I'm coming out of it.
A two-week vacation did me a power of good and though I didn't feel at all like my shiny, flexible, sexible self, I made an effort to dress up and not just be the ghost in the corner, which is what I really felt like. I was amazed to be this affected by the whole not-getting-fucked thing, though I also blame a certain amount of stress buildup for it having floored me like this.
I ended up giving up on the subject of my previous two posts; there just wasn't enough basis there to justify getting to the bottom of things, in the end. I learned a lot about myself and my needs throughout the whole thing. I learned that lack of sex can seriously screw with my mind. I mean, I'm used to being celibate for months on end, but having someone pursue and conquer me like there was no tomorrow, and then turn into some kind of older brother figure, really messed with my sense of self (so rooted in the sexual, after all). I still feel a little bit sparkle-less at the moment but nothing like the way I was a few weeks ago, and I know now that if it ever happens again (which I kind of doubt, because the dude has issues that I will now be able to spot in another bedroom candidate) I will turn and walk as soon as I have ascertained that we are not on the same page.
Also, note to self (for the nine millionth time): NO MORE WORK DALLIANCES.. Yes, this one was less awkward than others, because we weren't directly working together, relying on each other, etc. But it was plenty awkward for me not to feel able to end it when I wanted to! I knew he was going to chase me again as soon as I put my foot down and said it wasn't working, and I didn't want to bend and be put through the same process...
I think I might be going on a date later this week... I've been putting off this chap because he seemed like the kind of man you meet who is terribly attractive and desirable but has a girlfriend. Talented, handsome, interesting, etc etc etc. He doesn't actually have a girlfriend, though, so why not give him a whirl?
Help! I'm losing my sparkle!
And this time I don't think I can buy a replacement in the stationery emporium.
In my current situation, where my swain makes no attempt to bed me and is reticent when I try it on with him, I've found myself putting a cap on my normally very healthy sex drive. This is having serious consequences for my general mental health and well-being. I didn't even mean to do it - but it happened because I have to look at him every day, which turns me on hugely. I used to arrive home from work crying with frustration and pent-up sexual energy when he didn't invite me back. And because this is just not sustainable and the whole having to look at him thing isn't going to change for a while, instead of talking to him about it, I've just somehow managed to squash my libido.
I feel horrible, dull, unsexy, unattractive and tired. Very tired. Energy is constantly going out, and not being put back in.
How do you ask someone why they don't want to sleep with you any more? Is there even any point in a fledgling relationship? For me, anything is a reason to have sex. Headache? Woke up at 7 am and can't get back to sleep? Eaten mayonnaise today? Stuff to do in the morning? Heading to the gym? All fantastic reasons to have sex. Seems like he's the other way round, though.
Something's got to give.
Eating? More like starving.
It must be me. I must be able to change this. I'm a high-roller, an achiever, I'm teacher's pet (in more ways than one). I WILL get 100% on the exam!
Here's my problem: I seem to have landed myself in a relationship, and even though everything started out just peachy fine, he doesn't seem to want to sleep with me any more. It hasn't even been long, but when I try to drag him into bed - or keep him there - or turn a kiss into something more, he would always rather do something else. Like talk about work. Or make coffee. Or talk about our friends. Or sleep.
It's making me strangely sad. I know that if I were in a relationship with me, I'd want to fuck me all the time. I DO fuck myself all the time, because I'm so damn frustrated to be around someone I'm so attracted to, whom my body has delirious memories of, whom i don't get to touch and taste. The other day I spent the night with him and woke up in the middle of the night with actual pain in my cervix from being so aroused by his presence. I get so wet just being near him, like I haven't done since my first boyfriend when I was a teenager.
He's affectionate and sweet and thoughtful. If I have the slightest change in mood, he detects it; he reads me well and won't accept my immature inability to talk. And yet I feel like he can't be that into me, because he isn't into being in me.
Our sex, when it does happen, is very intense, and he is always the first to put into words what I'm feeling (kissing at a bridge, my knees grow weak and I am dizzy; before I can even formulate the words in my mind, he has said them). He's not afraid to make me laugh in bed. He kisses me on the head or ruffles my hair or tweaks my hand as he goes by me.
And he won't fuck me.
I know I have to talk to him about it. But I'm not good at talking and for all my interest in and love of sex and all its effects on the human mind, I have no idea how to approach someone who behaves like this. I can't identify with how he operates. When I'm stressed or distressed, I use whatever is available to dull the pain, to add sparkle to my day, to distract me from whatever it is that I don't like and can't change, or am working on, or whatever. I can't imagine having a lover near me, whom I like, and not wanting to bury myself in their aura if only even as an escape.
I know, I know. He's just not that into me, right? But he behaves like he is in all the other ways. And somehow, even though I'm sure I would advise any friend whining to me about a similar situation to jump ship, I feel compelled to dig further, to wait it out. I've always had a higher sex drive than my partners, but this really takes the biscuit.
I dreamed the other night that I was incredibly, distractingly, drippingly horny. In the dream, I was riding some kind of shuttle train; it was either some kind of underground, or one of those things that whizzes you from airport to city, or both. The seats were blue.
I was so aroused that I was literally worried. What was I going to do about it? In my dream, I remembered my dreadfully horny phase of last year, when I started this blog. I was sadly certain that blogging wasn't going to help. Masturbation might take the edge off, but there was nowhere to do it on this train (no toilets!) and I knew it would only scratch the surface of my issue, so to speak, and leave me wanting more.
I thought longingly of HWIDFLFW, calculating how long it would be until I might see him again. Too long. I hadn't felt this sexually piqued without stimulation from myself or someone else ever; I might have driven myself close to that point with teenaged hormone-soaked daydreams, but I'm not sure even that quite compared. It was pretty scary and I felt out of control. Not like I'd just go and fuck anyone, just suffering.
The dream ended there, or I woke up, and luckily the state of sexual insanity didn't carry over into waking life. But I still remember how it felt and I'm grateful not to be plagued by constant tumescence. I'm sure the dream has plenty of psychological significance; the train is phallic, the seat covers were blue (blue balls), I was stuck on the train... am I repressed by the patriarchy? Do I wish I had a penis? Am I sexually frustrated? Yes to all three, probably, although they're not issues I allow to bother me.
I am getting hornier by the day, though. I've lost weight and although almost everything I've ever read about women and sex contradicts this idea, I think my orgasms are deeper and more satisfying when I'm at my lower weights. I used to think it had something to do with eating fresh vegetables, but since this weight loss was a result of being too ill to eat much for a few weeks, I'm revising that theory.
Descent into wordlessness
Reading my last post and The List again, something struck me. One of my favourite things about sex is the utter obliterating oblivion of it - being swept along into a state where I am no longer verbal, where my senses are partially or sometimes completely obscured by sex. When I think about sex and fantasise about sex, this is what I'm yearning for.
The funny thing? It's only really happened with two people, half of the lovers who really did something for me sexually. So why I should associate oblivious delirium so strongly with sex, I don't know. I always maintain that truly great sex is a perfect exchange of energy (which can, in theory, make a handshake sex), after all. I get some of that oblivion from yoga when my body finds perfect repose and balance in some crazy pose that I was struggling to perfect or maintain - when my body stops fighting itself, my mind takes off on a ridiculous high. Maybe that's energy balance within the body. Maybe it's all the same thing.
The one who hurt me so badly, he was really very good in bed. I loved his cock; it was beautiful, stout and well-proportioned. He would literally go down on me for hours on end. It almost became like a game for me; I'd think I'd come as much as I could, and then ask him to tease another orgasm out of me, just to see if it would happen. It always did. But I would be lying there with complete lucidity; I'd be able to speak, I'd be able to see, everything would be clear and ordinary; I never got into that space. Is that subspace? Was it the gentle domination, or the pheromones that caused May and he-who-it-doesn't-feel-like-fucking-with to induce this in me? Mind you, it didn't always happen with May, just on a few memorable occasions, during one of which I hallucinated.
I don't like my sex to be calm. I don't like being in control. I don't want to lie there and think "I wish he'd stimulate my g-spot a little more forcefully" or "I love it when he licks my ass, thumbs my clitoris and has two fingers hooked in my pussy". I want to hear my own screaming from a distance, feel utterly helpless, and for every little motion to be a surprise universe of newness exploding under my skin, even when it's old and warm and familiar. I want to give myself over completely and be surprised to the point of detachment (or is it detachment to the point of surprise?) when I have an orgasm. Even when I'm giving a surprise blowjob and it's the morning and we should have run out of the house ten minutes ago and nothing's going near my genitalia.