The Bunnies and the Bees

Ch-ch-ch-ch-choices

So there’s this super incredible guy at work: beautiful guy, so manly, and so sweet. Everything you could ever want in a man. I’m partially in love with him, and partially it’s a challenge. See, N, as I’ll call him, is absolutely inept with women — hasn’t had more than one girlfriend, and really inexperienced. But as I’ve hung out with him I’ve realized what an amazing person he is.

Still… problem is he’s got no game. And for some weird reason, I don’t want to make some sort of overt move with him because I’m actually afraid of scaring him away. So we hang out, and things move very slowly — the other night he got as far as putting his arm around me. So yeah, slow.

And then there’s JL… the blast from the past. And damn is he a blast. We have such an amazing time, in bed and out. I mean the sex is mindblowing, and we click-click-click when it comes to conversation. Problem is, he was very upfront with me about just wanting this to be a casual thing. He says he’s not looking for anything right now. And I totally respect that. But I might be starting to look for someone to have in my life. Something more than just mindblowing sex… like mindblowing sex and a partnership.

So here’s the thing, with N there’s the promise of a really good guy, but possibly no chemistry, or at least not at the level that I’m used to/enjoy/crave. And with JL there’s everything passionate and chemical, but I know there’s a chance I’ll be heartbroken in the end, if only because we have different outlooks on life right now.

And thus the question… do I choose Door 1?

Or Door 2?

Ecstasy

I can’t quite describe that feeling right after a phenomenal fuck, when the world turns quiet and my head fills up with a slow, steady buzzing of blood rushing to every part of me, syncopated by the pulse of my heartbeat.

Oh no wait, maybe I can describe it. At least vaguely, without quite being able to put my finger on it.

It’s a sensation of openness, vulnerability. It’s the culmination of every sense working overtime and then suddenly…

Stopping.

I love it. I love being out of words. I love being so aware of my entire body, every sensation. I love the weakness in my knees when I finally drop down from the bed and find myself on the brink of collapse.

I recently reconnected with an old flame, JL. One of the best fucks of my life. And one who had spurned me quite fiercely a year before after showing every sign of being very, very much into me.

Then out of the blue, a year and a half later, I get an email with that exact title: “Out of the Blue.” And there he was, apologizing for everything, saying that he did feel a connection but ran scared.

So we reconnected for drinks. And connected. Seriously connected. Like all the times before. There’s a magnetism between JL and I. We seem to just be drawn to each other. He told me that he’d though a lot about me. That I was the best fuck he’d ever had. I laughed and asked him how many girls he used that line with. He looked at me quite seriously and told me, “none.”

Oh behalf of my ego, I chose to believe him. And so we tested that theory — just to make sure the sparks were still there, to make sure we both remember correctly…

And we did.

Afterwords, I lay back on the bed, unable to move. JL lay next to me, clearly in the same state of mind, and reached out for my hand. That pulsing, silent ecstasy was bright on my skin, and heavy on my limbs, my mind.

I wonder if I can start a fire with those sparks…

Baby did a bad, bad thing

So, that friend I was writing about, JT, he and I — jeez — he’s bad news for me. Those texts, my few responses before I told him “no, never again, stop, you have a girlfriend”… well, those texts he sent me got me going, and I sent him a picture or two in my moment of weakness.

The idiot emailed those pictures to himself… to save I guess. For a rainy day? And his girl found them. His girlfriend, whom I had become so close to, whom I cherished so much as a friend, found out that I’d betrayed her. But she only learned of my betrayal, not his. And as she blamed me, screamed at me, told me how pathetic I was, told me to fuck off, and said horrible, horrible things to me… as she did all those things that she was more than justified in doing, I never once said “don’t you realize that this is his fault? HE initiated it! HE has been texting ME for months, and this was the one, the ONLY time I responded, and I immediately felt so guilty that I told him never again!”

Nope. I kept my mouth shut and took all the blame.

And JT told me that if he was going to work it out with her, then we couldn’t be friends.

All I could say was, “I know.”

And I was really sad; really heartbroken at first. I had lost my best friend. And I had lost a phenomenal new girlfriend.

But then I realized that she was an idiot to take him back, and she proved her own weakness there, and that perhaps she was never a real friend at all if she could blame me so quickly without ever hearing me out, or ever thinking that it could have been his fault too.

So the silence raged on.

… until the texts started again.

"I can’t stop thinking about you."

"I just want to fuck you so badly."

"You’re the best I’ve ever had, I always think about you."

"I need to get this out of my system."

"Please, one last time, it’ll be our dirty little secret."

And for a while I said “no, no, no” with some sort of lingering sense of loyalty to her, and to their relationship.

Then, he got drunk. JT and I started out as drinking buddies. I know how he can drink, and I know what kind of mood it puts him in. So, on Christmas Eve, with the girlfriend out of town (and constantly checking in on him to make sure he was “being good” — if that’s not trust and a basis for a great relationship, I don’t know what is), he started texting again. And the texts turned manipulative:

"Come on, just let me come over."

"Let’s go out with a bang."

"It’ll either be you or another girl tonight. The decision is yours."

And the kicker…

"If you really cared about me, you’d let me come over."

And suddenly… it hit me. He wasn’t my friend anymore. Our friendship had ended the minute he stopped seeing me as a person in his life and started seeing me as a few holes and a great pair of tits.

So, I said “fuck it.” It had been 6 months of involuntary celibacy for me. And clearly any of the ties or bonds of friendship and loyalty were long gone in this fucked up spiderweb/love triangle. So fuck it.

And I got fucked. And like every time before it was the best sex of my life.

So I did a bad, bad thing. But then I shut the door. And hopefully, for my sake and the sake of any girl he ever dates in the future, he won’t ever come knocking again.

Word of the Day - “hatchway”

hatchway:
Or: hatch, slang term for:

1. The mouth. A famous toast: ‘Down the hatch!’

2. The vagina.

Quote; anonymous limerick: ’ There was a young lady named Scratch / Who had a rectangular hatch / So she practiced coition / With a mathematician / Who had a square root to match .’

see also: hatch, scuttle.

Los Angeles night sky, after the rain. View high resolution

Los Angeles night sky, after the rain.

Tied Up With Temptation

My biggest weakness is my best friend.

JT and I were first drinking buddies, then fuck buddies, and finally best friends. If the sex hadn’t been so good (best of my life), then who knows if we would have ever spent so much time together, and ultimately have gotten so close.

He’s always had a pull over me. Perhaps due to the fact that he can make me cum like no one can. For days after fucking him I’d be bruised, battered, with teeth marks on my shoulders, tie marks on my wrists. The boy bound and broke me with his mouth, cock, hands…

I’m getting distracted. What was I writing about?

Oh yeah.

So periodically JT and I go through periods where we promise we are “platonic.” Usually one of us makes wild claims that this platonic period is permanent. We usually do well, at least for a few weeks, a month or two, and then get a little tipsy and go at each other.

Problem is, he’s seeing someone right now. Someone who I really like. She is awesome, and funny, and loving, and is the first girl he’s dated not to care about our history, and to be really honestly, legitimately ok with the fact that JT and I were sleeping together when they first started seeing each other. She and I have become close friends. They’ve been dating for 6 months, and she’s great for him.

But he’s bored. I know JT too well. He definitely cares about her, he probably loves her, but there’s not that excitement of “getting away” with something anymore.

And now he’s looking for some thrills, and I know that I’m as tempting for him as he is for me. And the texts… I want what he wants to give me… but I definitely do not want the kind of guilt and responsibility that comes with the kind of disloyalty and betrayal.

So for now, I’m sitting on my hands, and handling myself. God damn, temptation is aptly named.

I’ve been waiting.

I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.

But it’s not quite right.

— Silversun Pickups

Marlene on the Wall - Suzanne Vega

Even if I am in love with you,
all this to say, what’s it to you?
Observe the blood, the rose tattoo
of the fingerprints on me from you.

Other evidence has shown
that you and I are still alone,
we skirt around the danger zone
and don’t talk about it later.

Marlene watches from the wall,
her mocking smile says it all
as she records the rise and fall
of every soldier passing.

But the only soldier now is me.
I’m fighting things I cannot see.
I think it’s called my destiny
that I am changing.

Marlene on the wall.

I walk to your house in the afternoon
by the butcher’s shop with the sawdust strewn.
"Don’t give away the goods too soon"
is what she might have told me

And I tried so hard to resist
when you held me in your handsome fist
and reminded me of the night we kissed
and of why I should be leaving.

Marlene watches from the wall,
her mocking smile says it all
as the records the rise and fall
of every man who’s been here.

But the only one here now is me.
I’m fighting things I cannot see.
I think it’s called my destiny
that I am changing.

Marlene on the wall.

Marlene watches from the wall,
her mocking smile says it all
as the records the rise and fall
of every soldier passing.

But the only soldier now is me.
I’m fighting things I cannot see.
I think it’s called my destiny
that I am changing.

Marlene on the wall.

Even if I am in love with you,
all this to say, what’s it to you?
Observe the blood, the rose tattoo
of the fingerprints on me from you.

Other evidence has shown
that you and I are still alone,
we skirt around the danger zone
and don’t talk about it later.

And I tried so hard to resist
when you held me in your handsome fist
and reminded me of the night we kissed
and of why I should be leaving.

Marlene watches from the wall,
her mocking smile says it all
as the records the rise and fall
of every man who’s been here.

But the only one here now is me.
I’m fighting things I cannot see.
I think it’s called my destiny
that I am changing.

Marlene on the wall.

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