I just wanted a place to talk about some slut shit--I never intended this to become a relationship blog, y'all, but that's exactly what it's becoming.
Cute Asshole whom me and Mr R have known forever turns out to be a bigger slut than anyone I've ever known, which is really quite sad, because his European girlfriend, even though they are 'separated' still waits for him, and is keeping herself uhm.... "pure" and he's whoring it up and out. Turns out he's been whoring it out since high school---damn dude. Guess I don't feel so bad about that whole situation anymore. :/
Mr R and I have been busy editing a film, doing the jobs of 20 people. Something I really really love, is we get pissed and frustrated at and with each other, but we're still loving to each other, and we're never pissed for long.
But... when I'm with him, I mean, he's so fucking beautiful, but I remember fucking him for the first time and how exciting that was because I didn't really know him. Now when we fuck it's even better and better every time for him, but it's kind of been sliding in a shitty downhill trajectory for me. I have to be really drunk and playing some slut music in order to get into it. FUCK! I didn't want to turn into one of those women like so many we all know, that can only fuck with the sparks from the beginning of a relationship. And because of this, when I see him, I love him with all my heart, I really do, so much sometimes I just ache for him... but I can see myself cheating on him. Oh god, I hate admitting this. Why can't I just exist within a loving healthy relationship without growing bored with it?
So I live to go out and smash the town, downing shots, crunking, dancing all night long. I can envision at some point, MR R--being older than me and with a job with varying hours, wont accompany me. This is where the danger lies. I'm not about to start bragging about how I look--I only see flaws in the mirror--but when I go out, I get swarmed. When I'm alone, I hit-on the big chicks (shut up, BBWs appeal to me :) but stupid young boys follow me like I'm the Pied Piper. I know how I look is quite different than the person I am, and alot of people see what they want and see stereotypes in my face and body.
Anyway, I can imagine after downing some drinks, as you know drinking makes me horny, dancing under pulsing gold white purple and green lights, flossing with some baller, as I'm rubbing my little ass on him with his hands on my waist I reach back with my hand and cup the back of his head, stroke my long nails through his hair, up and down his neck. I do this anyway when I'm dancing, and it never fails to bring the tumescence.
But.
I can imagine myself taking it a step further, as it is so very dark on the dance floor, and with so many bodies twisting and grinding together, a sweaty pit of relationship-destruction. My sweaty skin sliding against his, I'll turn around in his arms, stroke my hands up his body and if he doesn't stoop down, I'll have to jump to get that kiss. Kissing... is kissing cheating? No. But I likely wont stop there. I might have so much preemptive guilt that I wouldn't actually go through with any sex, but I fear that I'm always going to be unhappy with Mr R for the stupid stupid reason of not feeling sexually satisfied or excited.
I mean, He excites me. He does. I love his body, I love to see him in his sharp and sexy fucking clothes, I love to take those clothes off him, I love how we laugh together, how he cares about me, how we work and have fun together, how he's gentle without being spineless. But. But he's never given me an orgasm. Granted now, I have NEVER had a man give me an orgasm, and according to girlfriends, vaginal orgasm is hard to get from penis porking.
Granted also, since my UTI, I am wary of letting any bacteria-filled things near my vag, namely his tongue as DUH!--it's bacteria ridden and I'm still dealing with residual urethral pain months later. So if he doesn't do cunnilingus to me, then it's no wonder I'm not orgasming, right? He has tried during sexy time, but it makes me giggle like a little fucking kid getting their armpits tickled. In some way I'm not ready to let go unabashedly, and since I know how bad cock tastes when I gobble it, I worry I will never be clean enough.
If only I could do yoga to let me taste my own pussy.
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