Breathtaking Eros

I’m sitting in my dorm room, pretty exhausted. Tomorrow is an art history exam, and I’m taking a break from studying. I got out of my street clothes and on my way to my pajamas found a nice long sweater that just ties in the front. I decided to put that on instead, and wear it like a robe. It’s comfortable, and I feel relaxed and sexy. I like to feel this way. It’s length is just enough that it covers my butt and continues the curve of it. I do enjoy that shape. My beg ol’ legs stick out, and I see, upon looking in the mirror, the nice v-neck I’ve got going on along with the tasty cleavage of my breasts.

This is the closest to a “dress” I have come in a very long time. I wore dresses at the school dances, and I have a nifty piece of clothing that transforms into many dress shapes that I’ve worn on occasion. I rarely would show my legs, even when I was highly underweight. A pair of capris I’ll wear, but it wasn’t my favorite. Well, until Ninja started giving me those compliments. Anyway, I don’t really feel pretty all that often purposefully. It’s more of a “oh, I actually look nice today,” with a lingering look in the mirror. Sometimes I would like to wear a skirt and some heels, but it’s just not me. I don’t weark make-up and I don’t often wear extravagant or obviously flattering things because I simply don’t recognize myself in them. I kind of shoot myself in the foot, I think. Looks great on other women, but not on me. Except, well, I never try those things on anymore.

Speculation as to why is minimal. My body image fluxuates severely. Maybe it’s just because I can’t afford to buy fancy nonsense shit.

Lingerie, of course, is something that has crossed my mind. I find corsets extremely sexy and pretty. I’d totally wear one. And garters. It just seems beautiful. But beautiful on me? Somewhere there must be something that would look good on me, but I’m not willing to expell the energy to do so, I guess. I’m not in the mood for disappointment, nevermind the fact that my wallet is too thin for that sort of luxury, too.

I once had Ninja show me some examples of corsets he liked. He has good taste. ‘Tis a shame I don’t think I can pull something like that off.

Bottom line is that no matter how bashful and shy I am, I’ve still been unbearably aroused. I swear it’ll start eating through my underwear.  Thank goodness Brat Roommate is out for the night, I can masturbate to my heart’s content. However impossible that may be.

For my twentieth birthday I got both my nipples pierced — my first body modification. While the primary reason was to designate a sort of personal landmark in my life, I was also fueled by Ninja’s approval and the prospect of enhanced sensation. See, my breasts don’t have much sensitivity. A woman who can orgasm from nipple play I definitely am not. Not to say I didn’t enjoy them being played with, but, well, it was unfortunate that I didn’t get much out of it physically. I got them done at a parlor near his apartment, and he held my hand. The procedure didn’t hurt one bit (the clamps were most uncomfortable, and the feeling of the needle going through the layers of skin was something pretty weird) and I had no complications and almost no tenderness at all afterwards. My piercings are now three months old, and I timed it so that I got them done just a few days before I left my home state. That way, Ninja wouldn’t have to suffer through being banned from my nipples while they healed. Smart, right? Right!

So when Ninja’s first visit came around, I at least was pretty excited to see how my nipples would fare under his attention. I’m happy to note that they’re a hit! He likes to play with them, and I very much enjoy it when he does. Flicking them, fondling, licking and sucking, mm. It is the strangest sensation, but it gives me the tingles.

And sometimes that boy sucks hard on the things. And it hurt, but it feels too good for it to be a bad pain… I just got a shiver thinking about it. I’ve even got a nice hickey on my right breast from my visit at Thanksgiving. I wear it proudly, oh yes I do.

Now I just need to wait ’til January to have him again…

Today has been a sucky day. I’m swamped with schoolwork: two ten page essays, numerous exams, and other things. I’ve been insulted left and right (Brat Roommate called me a scrap bag… jokingly… I think). And a handful of things that just irritated the fuck out of me.

So I’ve got the apartment to myself tonight, and after I managed to finish my homework goals for the evening, I decide to rid myself of my bad mood by masturbating with my vibe. Orgasm is a pretty sure-shot way to make anyone happy, right? At least, it is for me.

So I’m going at it for a half hour, which is okay time-wise, except I just wanted it done and overwith. And I’m just not cumming. And you know what? It’s just making me more and more pissed off. If I can give myself anything, it’s an orgasm. Except tonight. I even had tears streaming down my face as I was crushing my clit with the tip. It didn’t help that random thoughts kept interrupting my already sketchy concentration.  It really didn’t help at all.

And then I hit a random magic spot. I held my vibrator just a millimeter away from my clitoris and let it tease the surrounding area, and a nice orgasm snuck up on me. It’s one of those ones that I can’t help but moan through, and I just felt my muscles spasm and send that electric feeling all through my midsection.

So I feel a tad bit better now. I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead, call today quits, and get a good night’s sleep.

In my time with Ninja, I was always pretty bashful when it came to really getting to know his body. Unless I remember incorrectly, we had sex before I pretty much had even touched his penis. Maybe I’m just sort of a backwards girl, but I have had instilled in me a fear of causing him pain in his sensitive parts. How lame this sounds, I know! It wasn’t at all a case of his body seeming gross, and he did his best to nicely coax me into becoming familliar with him. I was just too girlishly shy and nervous and anxious and afraid of being bad at it. I let him do his thing, and I just concentrated on getting better at what I had managed to do, while all the while I tried to strangle my shyness and indulge in my desires to do blissful things to his cock…

So it took a long time before I took his erection in my mouth. Ninja’s got pretty good girth, so I was moderately intimidated, with warnings about “NO TEETH” circulating in my head. Thankfully my jaws are large enough to accomodate it, I soon found out. I recall only a handful of times where I gave him head before this recent visit, and it was never to “completion.” A few minutes here, a kiss or lick there. I knew he wanted more, and he complimented me tremendously. He’d make a remark once in a while, giving me that sly eye of his, “The girls that are bad at it do it all the time, but the ones that are really good don’t…” and I would just blush and think about it more.

I think too much, I know.

The weekend before I left for college we rented a hotel room (Oh! Bad girl! I lied to my parents!)  and I gave him head on one occasion. I was excited to hear him talk to me and moan. That was really, really hot. He’s usually pretty quiet, but it’s all in his face. Anyway, the combination was something special. I found myself really enjoying it–yes, I could do this more often. I stopped after a time and we progressed to me being on top and riding him out, but he told me later on that he would have cum had I kept going for just a minute longer. Damn it! I was mad at myself. And he told me he’d never cum from a blowjob before, which was pretty much the most surprising thing I’d ever heard him say. So that fueled my determination significantly. Unfortunately, my determination would have to withstand the time from August to November when I’d see him again.

And it did, of course. Hmm, I’d masturbate while fantasizing about it, and I am a sucker for pleasing him, and knowing he very much wanted me to give him a blowjob kept me adamant about fulfilling his wishes. It was even loosely set up that the first thing I’d do to him was give him a blowjob. This was a way of battling my shyness.. he knew I wanted to do it, so he had permission to badger me at it if need be; however, this was not necessary in the end. We ended up having some good normal sex first, but I decided the next time we were having sexy time, that I’d take the initiative…

And so the time came that we were alone in my dorm suite, locked in my bedroom and getting naked on my bed, and I layed him down and let my kisses travel down his long.. mm.. lean torso where I found his erection waiting for me. I took it up, gave it a kiss, saw the look on his face, and took it in between my lips. And out. And in. And out. And I revelled in the feeling, the taste, the texture, and his responses. It didn’t take me long to get his shaft nicely lubricated with my saliva, and I could taste his precum. I was pleased with that, and tried just a few little different techniques (flicking my tongue at his frenulum was fun) until I got a nice swing which I think he liked. I was nice and consistent, and soon saliva was dripping down through my lips, down my hand, on to his skin. It got super messy, and I was slobbering like a dog. I don’t know why, but that’s something I like. I hope he didn’t mind. Soon his muscles were tensing, he was cooing my name, and his hips would lift up just the tiniest bit in time with my mouth action. Oh yes, I loved it. It was showtime.

The time in the hotel, he had said to me he didn’t know if he should have warned me that he was going to cum. I thought it would probably be nice to know and be forwarned.. especially because I had never tasted cum before, and, well, I just didn’t know what would happen. I was then conscious of the fact that this would be a very significant new thing to experience. I was excited, and anxious. I wanted to like it. I don’t want to be a nasty cum-drinking slut, but I told him I’d swallow and smile.

I did. And I don’t really know if he warned me or not, just before his ejaculation, but I knew when it was time. I kept up my end of the work, and he tensed all up and shook, and his hips rose to my face, and there was a new taste in my mouth, along with a pulsing cock. Ooohh, semen. It tasted good. Not bitter, but a little salty while being sweet at the same time. It tasted much the same as I do on occasion, strangely. I swallowed my mouthful of sweet warm mixture, removing myself from his penis, and I couldn’t help but grin.

Ninja was motionless on the bed, blinking and cloudy-eyed. I grabbed a hand towel and wiped my face and sticky hand, and helped him clean himself gently. He chuckled, “Wow,” and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head as though trying to clear it. Yes, I was successful, and yes, I was mighty pleased with myself. I crawled up to him and gave him a little kiss on the lips (I didn’t know if he’d be weirded out by that, which would have been stupid…) and he stammered a few sentences. He liked it. Loved it, maybe. Yeah, I think he did. I had a smile on my face when I layed my head down on his shoulder, and we talked a little bit about my experience.

My consensus? I like blowjobs. They’re pretty fun. Ninja’s a clean guy, tastes good, and makes me feel awesome. I’d do it again.

I did. Ten minutes before we had to leave to catch the subway, in fact. And as we were sitting down on the seat, whizzing through town on the Green Line, I leaned over, grinning, and said to him, “I have sperm breath.”

This trip made me realize how much I really… really like sex. My vagina is quite sore right now. I tell you, he just does it to me. And, you know, it’s something that I can do. I can turn him on, I can make him cum, I can have a lot of fun with it and enjoy the fact that I can make him feel good. He reciprocates in the most glorious of ways, and there is something excruciatingly awesome about being on the recieving end of his attention and.. what’s the word.. talent? Haha, he’s got a gift. And I like it all the time. Being barred from it sucks.

The date was yesterday. The apartment was empty, and we were on the couch in the living area watching television. Comedy Central, if I’m not mistaken. We’d been comfortable for a while–it was our lazy day, and it was established in the morning when we got up that we’d not leave and just order food when we were hungry. My ass was against his crotch in the loveliest of ways. You know what I’m talking about. And I turned and started to kiss him.. or maybe he just started fondling my breasts.. hell, it doesn’t matter. I just know that he was feeling me up and turning me on like I was a lightswitch. He unzipped my pants and stuck his hand down my panties, touching my vulva and rubbing my clit and it was all I could do to not go crazy. My body was writhing and our faces were pressed close, and he kept doing his magic. And eventually turned and continued to watch the television, multitasking. I had to laugh to myself, and I was going to voice my slight annoyance but then he slipped in his finger and I basically forgot all about it. This continued for a good amount of time and I was ready to hit the bed and lock the door, but fate would have it that the door clicked open and Nice Roommate stood in the doorway, talking to one of our fellow students before making her entrance. In that split second I shot up and straightened my clothes and my hair (which was plenty ruffled because those fucking pillows Brat Roommate bought give you sex hair even if you’ve not had sex yet…) and Ninja smartly put up his knee to hide my ass. My fly was down, and I had to act cool. “Hey, Nice Roommate… How are you…”

The opportunity was snatched away from me. And I was upset. I was so horny. I wanted some release. But it was to not be so. I tried my best to suck it up but I was a little sullen for some time after that, which was certainly an inconvenience. Ninja promised I’d get some sex later on, which I knew, but I couldn’t help but be disappointed that a such an elated state of arousal had to be punished in such a manner. Hours passed and eventually Nice Roommate left and we were alone again. Ninja and I lazed around a bit more, went on the computer on and off and put in some time for the television. And the time came when Ninja decided he wanted to get back to what we’d been doing before, and I was happy to do so. We went to the bedroom, Ninja stripped, I climbed on top of him, kissing and sliding up and down his body a bit.. warming up. Not for too long, though; soon he was pressing his glans against my labia and working his way in.

Click. We hesitate–did someone come into the apartment? Knock knock! on the bedroom door.

“Don’t come in” I said sternly, coming down from my regained high, and we separated and I stuck myself in pajamas and opened the door to see Brat Roommate and her pseudo-boyfriend. We chat. Small talk. I pray that they’ll leave. Nope. They’re staying the night here.

I was livid. Ninja did not seem too pleased himself. He said that he’d tell them flat-out we were fucking so they’d leave us alone. I said nooo… but it didn’t matter anyway. Because I got my period, right on time. Cue hormonal tears of frustration! Even if he were more into period-sex, the task of cleanliness and clean-up while in the presence of my roommates was a killer. And the fact that our last sexual encounter was way back in the morning when he joked about needing to get rid of his hard-on, well, that wasn’t too pleasing either.

Thankfully, he fucked me in the shower this morning so I was a happier woman.

Whew, boy. Ninja’s on his way back home. I just enjoyed five days of awesomeness with him. Sleeping on my single bed wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be (though it did give him some stiff muscles) and surprisingly we did not have too much to fear about the insane amount of squeaking it produces. Both my roommates headed for the hills and I only saw them a handful of times the entire weekend. Anyway, Ninja is talented enough to give it to me quietly, minimizing the noise when we did have to worry about it. He is too good. Shame I still had to keep myself quiet, though.

Now, of course I’ve got a lot to write about, but putting it all into one entry would be a bad idea. So I’ll split things up into different entries, paying attention to each in its deserved amount. I must not let anything go neglected.

Recently I called my father to wish him a happy birthday. Through the smalltalk and other things, he interjected with a random statement which confused me. “I don’t really approve of what you’re doing.”

“What?” I asked, caught off guard.

“With your boyfriend,” he replied. A pause, and he continued, “But I respect your decision.”

Another pause on my part. What do I say to that? I was going to tell him that I was intelligent about it, but after a minute I just thanked him for respecting my decision. And then the subject was changed.

Ah, yes, the inevitable parental obligation to recognize that their child will, eventually, most likely have sex. And it will, in their eyes, probably or always be too soon for their tastes. I acknowledge that fact.

It’s almost a source of amusement. I haven’t told either of my parents straight-out that I have had sex with Ninja, but, apparently, they’ve figured it out. I guess I just wanted to avoid the situation and try to spare them the agony of having the conversation. After all… come on, now. I was nineteen when I lost my virginity. The national average is sixteen (or so I’ve heard) and realistically some adults are probably “not fit” for having sex. I don’t really know how I take the whole “when is a good age to have sex” debate. I was highly unimpressed and/or embarassed with all the guys I’ve been around to even get to really dating — so having sex was not on my list.

The night I sat in the living room with my mother and told her that Ninja and I were going out, her immediate response was to tell me not to have sex. She recalled how she found out that my brother was having sex when she “stumbled upon” a love letter from his girlfriend (to-be wife), and was appalled. I actually don’t know why she doesn’t want anyone to have sex, specifically. Safety and pregnancy issues aside, I just know for a fact that she despises sex. She hates pornography, and once I got older I noticed how often she would refuse even the slightest bit of affection from my father. I’m sure it’s a body-image for her. But why does that have to rain down on me?

I think I knew I was setting up some pretty high standards for myself, telling her that I wouldn’t have sex. I said I was smart and wouldn’t jump into things. I didn’t. But a month later we started sleeping together, and of course no parent of mine would listen to their child justify their reasons for having sex. Nevermind the fact that justification shouldn’t be necessary, hmm?

I just kept my mouth shut. I secretly slept at his apartment a few times, and for the first time was a bad kid and lied to them about it. I even snuck him into the house overnight a handful of times. More or less maintained my innocence. It was a “don’t ask, don’t tell” thing.

And then months later my mother warned me to make sure that my birth control was strong enough. That was the first clue that she had figured out the great secret. Uh, mom, I’m on the pill. It’s plenty strong. And, uh, by that point, if it was going to fail for that impossible reason, it would have done so months before then. She left it at that, and didn’t lecture me about if it was “right” or not that I was sexually active. I was grateful for that. Now I’ve just run into that roadbump with my father, and it was quelled with “Thanks for respecting my decision,” and leaving it at that.

I wonder if this means that I can stop pretending to go to other peoples’ houses when I spend the night at his place… I guess we’ll see in a week at Thanksgiving!

My room smells like sex, and I like it.

Tomorrow around noon, Ninja will be dashing off the airplane, and I’ll be dashing into his arms. I’m pretty fucking excited. Five marvelous days and four anticipated nights and the exchanging of attention I can’t get any other way. I am so excited.

Long-distance relationships suck. There is no doubt about that. But they open up a whole different sort of realm, and present different potential problems to conquer. We’re going through this knowing we can trust each other, and fully confident that we will soon be in the same city, same building as each other. And soon, same apartment. And later, married. This presents an obstacle for many couples, and it always depressed me. So many people are not willing to sacrifice and be separated from someone. Instead of letting it take on this new form, which is full of lessons, they typically end it. They need physical attention, and happily forgo the emotional aspect. And their attraction and relationship with their lover is not important or strong enough to withstand that? I guess not.

I have been lucky. I never went through bad relationships — I just saw them. I never have had to deal with a cheater, or an abusive partner, or other sorts of unwillingness in love (or the illusion of…). I waited and waited and was too sickened and bitter and silly to do anything more than dip my foot in the pond of loving someone else.

And then, poof, here I am, having been presented with an offer I could not refuse, and I’m lucky. Ninja would drop the world for me. And he is, isn’t he? He’s moving 800 miles to be with me. And it can’t soley be because I might be good in bed, haha. He wants me. Wow, is that a great feeling or what.

So as much as I despise talking on the phone, and resorting to AIM for contact, as well as sending raunchy pictures and forcing my sexual nature to strengthen… it’s something that is meaningful. It’s a unique trial, and it might be sort of necessary, in a way. Long-distance relationships work, if the ingredients are right.

And the best part is having those butterflies, the anticipation, the hot burning and fantasies my mind brews while waiting for this time together to commence. Tonight, I’ll be able to tell him “I’ll see you tomorrow!” and it will be true. I’ll see him, I’ll kiss him, I’ll feel him and touch him and unleash all the sexual energy and make him want me and we’ll both be driven into oblivion by the awesomness that is being together and feeling good.

That might be something of an overstatement, since I might just be all talk… I mean.. I’ve got almost three months of sexual tension in me, but I think I’m still that silly cautious girl. But I was getting better! And I don’t think it’ll take any coaxing on my part to get him to feel me up and prime me. That’s definitely an easy avenue to take hold of.

And Nice Roommate said to me, “Oooohhh tonight’s the last night you’ll be sleeping alone! ‘Cause tomorrow night, there’s going to be a big man sleeping in there with you!”

Yes… and when the coast is clear.. well.. Ninja put it nicely, “We’re gonna need helmets.”