I’m not sure what has been going on lately, but my libido seems to be on the fritz.  Not that I’m really going to complain, ha.  I’ve even been having a somewhat harder time getting myself off, which IS frustrating.  I need to figure out what’s going on… watching porn doesn’t help, nor does anything else that I have tried.  Anyway, just a random little update about the weirdness in my life.

On a positive note, I’m almost done with Summer Quarter! YAY!  So ready to be done.  I am sick of my classes.

We Shall See

I’m meeting a potential submissive this week.  We have had some very interesting chats over the last few weeks.  I am cautiously optimistic.  I have had a couple of other submissive folks talking with me lately too, and I am tentatively supposed to meet another person next week.  Some of the questions brought up while talking have been hard for me to answer.  Not because I feel awkward or shy in any way, but just because I haven’t had to think about some of the scenarios before.  I’ve been in a submissive role as far as BDSM stuff since I was, well, before I turned 18, let’s just say.  I’ve only been in a dominant role really, with one person.  Interesting food for thought.  I’ve been putting special effort and energy in, to make sure I don’t lose touch with my kinky side.  Especially because I’ve been in turmoil over so much lately, I need something to help ground me.

I have been incredibly low energy lately, for the most part.  Just trying to make myself get up and go to class has been hard.  I’ve decided that whatever the situation with my dad, it’s his life.  If his new lady doesn’t like me, tough.  I won’t change my behavior to make someone like me.  I haven’t the energy to expend pretending to be something I’m not.  Same for her kids.  I do hope to get along with them, if they all are going to become a part of the family.  If not however, I won’t shade any tears over it.  As a random aside, I’ve decided to pursue socio-cultural anthropology, as far as my higher education goes.  I don’t want to spend years and thousands of dollars getting degrees in a field that I only chose because of somewhat better job viability.  Even if I can’t get work specifically as an anthropologist after getting my degrees, I can do other jobs that would be of interest.

I’m in a mild quandary, as a last aside.  Whenever I’ve had a FWB before, I never had to be the one asking to meet up.  Ever.  It was always them contacting me frequently, trying to get some of my time.  The last couple of weeks have had a lot going on for myself and the local boy I got with recently.  I have no problem with that.  I do however, feel weird trying to think up a way to ask him to come by so we can fuck.  Well, ok, that’s not entirely true.  I tell Q quite frequently that he needs to come visit so I can leave bites and claw marks all over him.  He’s an exception for me for a lot of things, however.  I’ve never been the one to make a booty call.  For local boy, is a text ok?  An instant message?  I don’t know the protocol for this kind of crap.  It’s not like there’s a handbook.  Not that I know of, anyway….


Thus far I’ve had two people now who have been able to make me squirt, by fingering me.  And one time on my own with a toy.  It’s so damn messy, though.  And I still am a bit concerned about how the build-up to squirting kind of feels like having to go pee.  I really uh, don’t want to accidentally pee on someone.  I mean, it would be one thing to do it intentionally, even if it’s not a kink of mine…  But accidentally would just be embarrassing as hell.

I know that women’s lady-bit fluids vary some, as hormones shift through a cycle, but I’ve noticed that even when I don’t squirt I’m ridiculously messy lately.  When I squirt, it’s clear and doesn’t really smell or taste like anything.  When I cum from using a dildo on myself or from fucking, it tends to be white/creamy.  Weird.  I uh, don’t suppose any of my lovely female readers have any input or thoughts?  Do your bodily fluids shift around some in texture/consistency as your hormones shift?


I wasn’t sure I’d still think blood is sexy after going through the training to be a certified nursing assistant and a phlebotomy technician.  Turns out I do, ha.  Work isn’t sexy, but seeing pictures, video, or even talking about vampire stuff, biting, blood, and bleeding in a sensual context still turns my crank.

At about 1:50 in this video it starts really getting interesting… Reich Mir Die Hand by Blutengel

Not only are the biting and blood in this super hot, but so are the fingernails of the main male in it.  Long and somewhat pointed fingernails, all the better to claw my flesh?  Yes please.  Now that I know how to do venipuncture, the idea has crossed my mind of drawing blood from someone willing into a syringe, so I can then paint it on their own body/skin and possibly my own.  Also, if there aren’t any risks, to then lick it off of them.  *shiver*

I started really trying to put effort into having my fingernails be nice this year.  Partly because I think it looks more classy/professional, but also partly because I want them to be stronger and a decent length.  I want to be able to mark Q’s back up nicely, the next time we spend time together.  Even though I’m one of at least a few other women that he has a fuck buddy situation with, the imp of the perverse in me wants to leave marks on him for the next person to see.  I like leaving marks as a slight possessiveness thing, but also I just think they’re hot.  Looking at bruises, cuts, scars, etc from when I’ve played pleases me.  Similarly, it pleases me to see marks like that on someone else as a sign of a good time being had.  Hell, I’ve even clawed my nails down my own flesh before, because I enjoy the sensation.

As a very random segue, I ended up joining a group on Fetlife that’s a Masters and slaves Together chapter.  Last time I went and did kinky play, I had the opportunity to talk with a couple who are now title holders for the area as Master and slave.  The conversation I had with them was wonderful.  They were very open and positive about some of the ins and outs of their relationship.  It made me think a lot.  I’ve been sending messages back and forth picking the slave’s brain regarding some questions I had.  My life isn’t very kinky or sexy right now, but hopefully at some point it’ll get back to being much more salacious.

Fuck Me

I typically try to be a little more elegant, a little more restrained, but desire for him strips that away.  I don’t have any other words to adequately describe how he makes me feel.  It isn’t just sex.  I knew I had a good time when Q visited me, and yes, I’ve been enjoying the use of my toy bag + privacy, but apparently that’s not enough for my subconscious.  He fills my dreams too, now.  Near as I can recall, my head was full of thoughts of him all night.  This is an immensely rare thing.  I pretty much never have sex dreams about real people.  I think this is the third time, total.  The rest of the time they’re just random dream people.

I’ve never had a person who inflamed my hunger like he does.  Perfectly innocent conversations with him still make my mind wander.  I want to leave bite marks, bruises, claw my nails down his back… all as evidence of my pleasure.  He has pretty much been the sole fuel for my imagination when I get myself off for quite some time.  He knows this, too.  He finds it amusing.  Evil bastard.  Before fucking Q, I don’t think it would ever have crossed my mind to think of someone while having sex.  He may have squirmed his way too deeply in my brain for that now, though.  I’m not sure yet.  I haven’t had sex with anybody since him, back in December.

I’m not sure what to do with all the lust that is a tumultuous knot inside of me.  I have all these important scholastic things to do, that are a priority before anything fun, much less purely gratuitous sex.  I have no idea when I’ll see Q next.  I was half-heartedly working on trying to find myself a fuck buddy near where I’m going to school, but that hasn’t resulted in anything promising.  I’m too damn horny all the time.  I kind of wish I was one of those people with a low libido and un-kinky.  It might make my life a lot less complicated…


I was right about Q being the equivalent of catnip to me…  maybe something highly addictive would be more apt.  I had hoped that finally getting to have sex again would make me feel a bit more calm, but it seems to have had completely the opposite effect.  It inflamed my hungers, like throwing gasoline onto a bonfire.  I’m burning up, squirming, growling with need.  Everything is making me think of fucking… and pain… and pleasure.

Please fuck me harder, fuck me more roughly, next time.  Please, tangle your amazingly sexy hands in my hair and pull it.  Please, mold me to your whims, curve my body backwards like a strung bow while you bend me over something.  Please, let me feel you buried as deep as you can go in my mouth, let me feel you again in my cunt, and please, let me even feel you inside my ass.  Please, please, please use that knife of yours on me.  Please, I want to bleed.  Please, I want to see crimson smeared across your skin and mine.

I’m being devoured, eaten alive by my lusts.  Beyond that, I want to know too, if there are any wicked, unspoken hungers of his.  After all, Q is thus far incredibly accommodating regarding my desires.  It only seems fair to respond in kind.  We’ll see where that goes.  I’ll ask Q when I get the chance

Worth It

Well… I was left concerned for a while about whether or not Q would actually show up.  Pretty much every possible non-fatal thing that could go wrong, did go wrong.  He had to travel from the South West part of the country to the West Coast, there were issues with his flight, issues with vehicle stuff, and so on and so forth.  So instead of getting to meet up at about 2 PM yesterday, we got to hang out starting at about 11 AM today.  It was ever so slightly saddening.  We made the most out of what time we had, however.  We played some video games, had fun just… bullshitting in general.

I’d decided to dress up for the occasion, too.  A lot of my stuff is in storage, so I was trying to find a nice garter belt, and it took a lot of searching.  I ended up with a red/black matching bra and panty set (the panties had garter straps), black thigh highs with red bows on the top, a pleated black skirt, a lace edged black tank top, and some awesome curb stomp-y goth boots that go to just below my knees.  I wanted to make a favorable impression on him, after all.  Pleasantly enough, getting to finally meet Q, it felt quite comfortable.  I didn’t feel self-conscious or anything.  After talking and playing video games, for whatever reason (I forget what specific reason/excuse I had), I stripped off the skirt, boots, and tank top.  Lounging around, playing video games, and talking like that for a while was quite pleasant.  Since I knew he had to leave at a relatively early time today, I wanted to make sure that our time was well spent!  I teased him a bit about being so laid back, considering all the chemistry that had existed between us, and… well… I instigated nefarious things.

It was well worth the almost three year wait.  I would say it was worth the almost two year dry spell, but I sincerely hope I never go that long without getting laid, while still in the prime of my adulthood.  All my concerns about not living up to his expectations were for naught.  It was a very good time.  I’m looking forward to next time, whenever it is.  It should feed my inner demons/lusts quite nicely.  I imagine it will be ever so much more wicked.  Hair pulling, biting, and knives.  Happily enough, I think I’ve now moved up from being a previously online-only friend who he flirted with, to being one of his fwb.  I can live with not getting laid not that often, if the quality is so very satisfying.  Sexy man.  Smart, funny, tattooed, great body, and hung?  Hell. Yes.

It was very worth it.  I already can’t wait to spend time with him again.  I know he doesn’t date folks.  I know he only has fwb.  I could care less if he fucks other people.  When he spent time with me…  I felt like a friend, considering the comfort level.  I felt sexy as hell, considering he seemed to have a very difficult time taking his eyes off me.  I felt special, considering he didn’t go off and check things on his phone, and so on and so forth.  So. Very. Worth. It.

I found it funny and satisfying as hell, that he repeatedly commented on how my ex-boyfriend was a complete idiot, to pass up on getting to fuck me.  I like to think I’m fairly skilled, and judging by Q’s reaction/comments?  He was very happy.  All in all, I got to end 2012 on a very, very nice note.  I hope 2013 goes well.