Breathtaking Eros

Yesterday brought another bout of the picture-craving from Ninja and I did not comply! Bashfulness, angst, and stubbornness on my part. Being quite out of the mood for a time, I didn’t have it in me to want to. “I’m not a lightswitch, you know,” I’d say. “You are when I’m around!” he’d reply in all truthfulness. Yeah, well, he wasn’t there. So what did he do?

He sent me new nude pictures of himself! That sneaky bastard knows just the right buttons to push, doesn’t he? Of course, the reaction was immediate, and I have to say I hated it all the more because it’s no fun to be horny when you aren’t getting the type of satisfaction you crave. Which, of course, was his problem, too. At least we were in the same boat…

So flipping through those pictures I decided to take a shot at reciprocation. Started off slow, removing the clothes, playing with myself, trying to find a good spot in the room with nice lighting (which is damn near impossible, I might say!). And then a whole hoard of people would come into my apartment to chat with Nice Roommate, sending shivers and fears of getting walked in on through me. I locked the door, of course, but the atmosphere was not good for getting down and dirty. I dealt with it okay, though, until Brat Roommate, who shares my room, would keep coming in and out of the apartment. I couldn’t lock her out of her own room, so I had to get dressed, fix my hair, and pretend I wasn’t just trying to be an amateur porn star.

Yeah, I might be able to get by as an amateur. Points for effort, huh? Anyway, that’s not the point!

The point is that I was hot and all I wanted to do was rub one off on camera so he could have a nice, rare video to go along with his collection of pictures (time would change my mind, and I have decided I can’t, just can’t do it out of embarassment). With a newer technique of masturbating I would have been able to go from start to finish in perhaps a minute and a half. I had to hurry. But Brat Roommate entered the apartment one last time, so I, flustered, didn’t even bother with my underwear and bra and put on my just shirt and pants. Perky boobs allow for the effect of wearing a bra without wearing one sometimes. Thank goodness for that.

So that failed miserably, and in my girlish glory I felt crushed and horny and without success.  I got out my sexual frustrations last night slightly, but it’s just not the same. I had a whole list of scenareos in my head which I’d flip through, and I couldn’t last. Too hot.

Today I look again at those photos, and in an artistic nerd-flair I have decided to draw one of the recent ones. Of course I can hardly draw it correctly and I’m all bothered. But I will finish it, even if all I want to do is stab my hands through my monitor and drag him out and fuck my own daylights out.

Oh, the sad, horny girl I am right now.

Not much exciting to say; I’m a bit stressed and sorry for myself. Classes have started and setting up life in this city is a bit intimidating. Stuff like this makes me sleepy, and I haven’t even played with myself in a couple days. Not that I haven’t had my share of horiness, though, so thankfully I’m not completely broken. Whew!

Yesterday Ninja caught me online and we talked a bit. He requested some pictures, and I just couldn’t do it. I don’t feel hot, I don’t feel sexy, I just didn’t feel like it. Instead, I wanted pictures of him. He, however, did not have time to himself at that moment. Boo, I say. A few days ago I used a nude photo of him for a drawing I had planned on making complete and cool. Instead, I got too into looking at him and I drew too largely, cutting off his head and leaving it just a study. Oh yes, I remember that body. I remember being pressed against his skin, fresh from the shower, cool to the touch but warm to the bone. It’s a sight, I tell you. A fucking sight. And I just want a bit more… Oh, yeah, I’ll finish that drawing some day.

He did, however, say that he craved me. That word, “crave,” is a special word to me. It’s pretty strong and significant in my mind, and makes me feel nice and saucy inside. Unfortunately, it didn’t make me feel saucy enough to give him good pictures. It made me feel all conflicted and crazy with wanting and a whole slew of other things, so I didn’t get to take advantage of his wanting me, and instead we argued a tad until he got better things to do. Damn it. But I love that word.
A great many things should be damned. Sooner or later I’ll get pictures… sooner or later I’ll get some. Get some. Get some!

I’m back to college, with classes starting tomorrow. The gods laughed cruelly in my face this vacation — I never even got a last kiss from Ninja when we departed last weekend. I was not able to meet up with him after that. I’m pretty down about it. There’s more to life and love than kisses and hugs and sex, but it sure is nice. Oh well…

A few days ago I ventured to one of those popular quiz/dating sites that I had forgotten I was a part of, to delete some message I got notified of. They have some instant messaging service, and in the few minutes I was there I got messaged: “Do you like nfcm?” Now, for being rather well-versed with internet lingo, this had me stumped. “Huh?” “Do you like nude female, clothed male situations.” That’s why I didn’t know what he meant. I haven’t ventured into the realm of real-time internet dating, sex and its variants, so… yeah. I said no. The guy was like “Bummer.” Yeah, sorry, I’m good with not letting myself be seen by random men and women. Okay, I’ve thought about it if I couldn’t get a job and if I could get paid for it, but otherwise I’d rather abstain. I have few problems with other people getting their jollies and making money with their assets, but I don’t think I could handle doing it, myself. This blog is as saucy as I’ll get.

So as I had absorbed that encounter, amused that I was so oblivious to the ways of the commoner’s porn system, I got another message in my inbox from someone in my area, “Strange question. Do you like BDSM?” I merely replied with “Yes, that is a strange question.” “Are you interested in a submissive guy?” Wow, way to be determined. No, no, I am not interested in a submissive guy, unless that would happen to be my lover. Which it isn’t. And I am fine with that.

I’m a bit of a fence-straddler when it comes to openness about sex; after all, I’ve got this blog and am quite liberal with my inner thoughts. But I have no interest in providing my flesh for random men to enjoy, nor do I feel like hooking up with a stranger. I’m too cautious and shy and scared and.. hmm.. just not willing to go to that length. Especially given the fact that I have my loyalty to Ninja. Thankfully, at least, the system is efficient. If you get rejected, you move on to the next person, and I imagine eventually you might find someone willing to do what you ask. I didn’t get badgered. No means no.

I remember some years ago being approached by one of my online friends, Terror. I was definitely underage, and I don’t quite remember how it came up in conversation, he told me to.. hmm.. something like “open up sexually” to him. I refused, got freaked out, and Pyro helped me set him straight. I didn’t talk to him for about a year and a half after that. In the past few months he has started talking to me again, and upon learning about my encounter on the dating site, poured his woes on me about wanting a girlfriend, how he wished his past girlfriends were willing to work on things with him in terms of their relationship, and how… he would look to the internet to get sex if he thought it would be successful. Poor boy hasn’t changed a bit.

It’s all about what you’re comfortable with. Me, I’m happy to be left alone and on reserve for one person and one person only. I’m cool with the anonymous label on here, too. I’m just not built to be a porn star!

I hit the 1k mark, that’s pretty sweet. Thanks for reading, pervs!

Last night I caught one of my greatest, oldest friends from the internet online, Pyro. Somehow we got on the topic of sex, which was pretty interesting because I’m still mostly shy around real people… but I could always talk frankly to Pyro. He’s a cool guy.

In the midst of our conversation he said that he couldn’t get off from masturbating anymore. WHAT? It got to a point where he had to use porn… and now… he can only have his jollies with a chick. That sucks. Or at least is something kinda weird. Makes me wonder how much of a ladies’ man he’s become, because the last time this got brought up some handful of years ago, he said he was a virgin!

I swear he’s got to be doing something wrong, haha. Oh well, too bad for him. It makes me strangely glad that I can satisfy myself going solo. I easily forget that some girls don’t know how to masturbate, or can’t get a climax, no matter what they do. Obviously I don’t always have Ninja around, so if I were limited… well, I would probably deal with it as there’s nothing to be done about it, but the thought of it is so mortifying.

Having no Ninja continues. In the wink of an eye I fly back and start classes again. Satisfied? No, not one bit.

At least I can masturbate…

I was reading one of my new books, “I’m No Saint” by Elizabeth Hayt. So far, she’s your average sexually promiscuous married (then not-married) woman. I downed a hundred pages of it last night, learning about her marriage to her Prince Charming Charlie, and more specifically their failed sex life. No sparks with them. It went back in the years to her school days, and told of losing her virginity by a form of rape by her boyfriend. Her first few partners were jackrabbits out for only their own good. The poor girl got no pleasure from them. Makes me sick with gladness that Ninja is a far throw from those assholes.

Her sex life looks up, though, as she finds her first partner that’s got brains and talent with his cock. She gets g-spot orgasms and then all of the sudden the story explodes with nonchalant mentionings of, “I gave the dentist head, and got my pussy eaten out behind the bleachers of a game by another random fellow…” and I’m left wondering how such standings occur. She has yet to have explained how she happened to find herself in those situations. That would be an interesting read. The only thing she explained was how she stripped, teased, and allowed a rich old man to masturbate while she did so in front of him. Not exactly my choice of recipiants, I suppose.

One point of interest, however, lies earlier in the book. A friend of hers would come to play at her house, but once the door was closed, she and her friend would masturbate together. What? I’m not the only one? That was quite interesting to read. According to her, she found out how to pleasure herself with a pencil eraser on her clit, through her underwear. The vagina itself was off-limits and uncharted, frightening territory. Right she was!

No, I didn’t honestly believe that I was the only straight girl to have masturbated in the presence of another. But it’s a hush-hush scenario. Ironically, said girl, Rufus, now has proclaimed lesbianism as well as an admitted masculinity. It doesn’t turn all of us into lesbians, however. It happened by accident, and it just continued because there was not much point in pretending it hadn’t happened. Actually, Rufus wanted me to teach her things. She’d never known the word “masturbation” and rarely did it (she didn’t know how, but somehow conquered the bath spout method) never really even looked at herself in the mirror. I was somewhat more exploratative than her and shared my knowledge. I don’t really like to talk about it, I suppose. Not even here, shrouded in anonymity… and here I am, wondering why it’s hush-hush, when I myself don’t elaborate on it.

It was a unique experience, that’s for sure. Perhaps less unique than it seems, and that’s something of a relief. Makes me realize how hazy one’s sex life is, or can be.

She just fucked her contractor. How crazy is that? I’ll go back to reading, now.

Damn, I just finished it. The ending was the most disappointing thing I’ve read in a long time. Ugh!

Hello my anonymous brethren. I went to Ninja’s apartment yesterday. We’ve talked some since the break-up, and this was the first time I’d been able to see him since before we split. I arrived to find him completely naked, brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Actually, he was waiting deliberately for me in such a manner. I really didn’t expect him to be naked, even if I did know that he much more prefers it. Why is he so attractive? I certainly didn’t mind, and when he walked out to meet me, we hugged. I felt like it was forever since I’d touched his skin. It was like a gift I didn’t deserve. Of course, I wish only for it to be my gift to claim. Greedy girl I am.

We agreed to forgive one another and in time our physical contact progressed. He’d snicker at me and say, “I have a question.” “What?” “You have a [hot, sexy, horny] naked man on top of you… why aren’t you doing anything about it?” What a jokster! Soon I was unclothed and he was doing those really awesome things to my labia and clit that.. man.. and, lord, the fingering? That “come-hither” motion makes my head spin. I wonder if I could have an orgasm from that. Either way, it gets me wet enough and crazy enough that I just had to say that I wanted him inside me and he obeyed. Best. Feeling. Ever.

Thus did commence the lovemaking which was most enjoyable, albeit a tad guilt-ridden based on the fact that I didn’t do a whole lot for him. I think I was in shock. Anyway, I have to notice (either correctly or incorrectly) that whenever we get into a position where my breasts bounce all around (and he grabs them, mmhm!) he is quick to spill over. I love that. My magical boobs. I’ll be on the bottom and the bed is positioned so that it’s in front of part of the closet. If I reach my hands above my head to press against the wall, it not only serves to make the penetration all the harder and awesomer and all that, it also gives my boobs nowhere to go but.. all over the place. Haha, his eyes get big and he tries to balance himself on one arm so he can fish around to grab them. Even if we’re doing doggy sometimes he’ll reach around to hold them. I like it. I like being grabbed. I like being kissed. I like being spanked a little bit. I like.. it.

So there were two orgasms for him, which prompted him to drop dead afterwards and rest up. Mm, some cuddling. Love the aftermath when we’re not scrambling around trying to look presentable, heh.

If only we had a night together. I considered getting another hotel for us for a night, but he already forwarned me about being busy and having to work. I’d be all over it. Aahh.. I must take what I can get.

Sex is not just about feeling good. Cervix-pounding, breast-bruising sex is always nice. And, for certain, the sort of sex where it’s slow and purposeful, when his orgasm creeps up on him… yes, that is pretty nice, too. Endorphines and all those other chemicals and tingling nerves released definitely make sex a unique physical act. It gives two people a completely different, versatile vocabulary.

I remember almost every time Ninja and I would have sex, I would battle tears. Either that or I would get a grin on my face (or both), relishing in the aftermath of his satisfaction as well as my own. Oh yes, there is so much more to it than just “feeling good”…

I miss it. I miss that special thing. No sex is not like no Swiss Cake Rolls, but I guess it made sense at the time. From a completely desensitized point of view, it made sense. But no, I am a girl. A girl who loved to please and still found surprise in every time she was given the same treatment. A girl with emotions and a willing heart, despite what some people may percieve. I miss giving and wanting and craving and… giving.