A quandry and some other things.

Do sex blogs have to be sexy all the time? I don’t really think so. I think the daily minutiae make the actual sexy that much sexier. If I was ALWAYS getting what I wanted sexually, all the time, every day…I think this would be a repetitive and boring blog. I think ‘real stuff’ makes it work. At least for me. If anyone reads it, I suppose they can tell me. Otherwise, I will certainly keep on keeping on.

I realized today that it has been months [probably close to six, if not more] since there has been penis of any sort in the ol’ hooha. Perhaps this is not unusual for lots of people. Were I not in a theoretically committed relationship, it wouldn’t be that unusual for me either. I am known for going years and years between relationships and sex where something gets done to me. However, I am not single. I am very not single. In fact, I am not single enough that I am living with my standard issue, penis-bearing, theoretically heterosexual boyfriend.

We don’t really have sex, persay. There is little-to-no penis in hooha action. ‘Let’s go fuck around’ takes the form of a blowjob for him and some fingers for me, if I’m lucky. As I’ve covered before, I am not a skinny girl and he has some sort of mental block with that. Whatever. I think I’m hot [mostly] so fuck a bunch of that. Someone I was thinking of tricking with [but darling boyfriend and I cannot get our non-monogamous eggs in one basket, to my utter chagrin] said, when I carefully spelled out that I was fat and if that was a deal-breaker I wanted to know before my clothes came off, that bodies didn’t matter and as long as I was able to live my life in a mobile matter it was all fine by him. Go figure.

So it’s been awhile. I alternate between being itchy for action and, like I am currently, having absolutely no sex drive at all. The absence of sex, regardless of the presence of an actual sex drive, makes one think about sex a lot.

I’ve lived a very, very sexual life. I spent a significant part of my childhood dreaming incredibly lewd scenarios with my favorite musicians or people from tv–I banged the FUCK out of Danny Wood from the New Kids On The Block in my nine-year-old head and, as I got older, moved to scribbling virgin-tastic pornographic stories in those black and white speckled notebooks [I recently threw them all out when I moved, but not until I sat down and re-read them cover to cover].

I was actually a late bloomer, though. I didn’t kiss someone until I was twenty–and it was an anonymous girl at my very first play party. I never found out her name, but she was a beautiful curvy blond with amazing breasts. I had sex with a woman at twenty and then with a man when I was twenty-four. I spent the first part of my twenties being an incredibly hedonistic dyke who had seriously secret desires for some cock and was terrified to act on them. I got really, really active in the leather/bdsm community and chaired a group for leatherdykes for awhile. When I got sick of that, I picked up a couple leather titles and traveled the country for a couple years. Flirted my way through leather bars, leather clubs, events, and, to the confusion of my all-gay-male leather family, lots and lots of gay men. I was [and remain] the dirty little secret of a significant bunch of gay men–a oncer who sometimes was the first/only non-dude to suck their cock. Darling Boyfriend once asked me where I learned to give such good blowjobs and I told him. He was a bit surprised. I have been collared, collared another, practically been a different gender and burned up a purity checklist.

I pretty much gave all of that up in the last year or so after some radical life changes pulled me away from that. I don’t regret it, persay, as I have fairly unpopular opinions of the leather community and most of the people in it.

After attending a local fetish event in January–the first time in almost a year that I had gone to such a thing–I realized that I was not missing the ‘community’ or whatever, I was missing the sexual spontaneity. Until DB [darling boyfriend], I had never had a romantic or sexual relationship that was not seriously twisted. DB, while preferring to think of himself as non-vanilla, is the most vanilla thing I’ve sucked the cock of in my life. I am a confirmed pervert–I like sex rather brutish.

DB likes to think he’s topping me, but there’s no bigger turn-off than someone asking me mid-face-slap if he’s hurting me. YES, you’re hurting me. IT’S THE POINT. We’ve talked about this, sweetie. And telling me later that you do it because I like it? Also un-hot. He, however, is a big goddamn bottom and, despite me knowing exactly what buttons to push, he rebuffs it ALL. For a man who owns a shit-ton of fem domme porn and strap-on porn, he runs away from it like his ass, as it were, is on fire.

So, instead, I think on hot Daddies who want to treat me like a nasty little girl and men who wear lovely intricate chastity devices [this is a new interest...power is addictive]. And, somehow, my sex drive just…simpers.

Tomorrow, I will aim to post something that is actually sexy.

Shaving my pussy.

My boyfriend likes it when I shave my pussy. I don’t mind shaving that much so this morning after he went to work, I got out of bed and jacked off. Sounds like a non-sequitur, but it kind of went like so..

We were in bed last night obnoxiously early [pre-11PM, ugh] because I said to him ‘so, honey, let’s go to bed!’ In Sinner-speak, this is ‘hey, it’s early on a Sunday night and we’re not doing anything. Let’s go fuck!’ He didn’t take it as let’s-go-fuck. He took it as let’s-go-sleep.

So we’re in bed and I’m kind of cuddled up next to him with my head on his shoulder and my hand under his shirt playing with his chest hair. I say to him ‘honey, when are we going to have some sex?’ and he says ‘soon.’ Hooray! I knew he didn’t mean right then or that night because, hi, we were in bed to sleep dammit and no one [least of all me] can entice my boyfriend to sex when he’s ready to sleep. But, awesome regardless as it’s been over two weeks since I got any nookie [boyfriend got a blowjob a week or so ago while I was ragging] and I’m itchy.

Off to sleep I go [or try to, as sleep has sucked for the past week] with visions of some serious poundage dancing in my head. Boyfriend doesn’t sleep through the night and, instead of tossing and turning next to me, he sleeps on the couch a little bit. Such a sweet man, yeah?

He comes back into the room about six-thirty or so by my guesstimate and resets his alarm for a little later and crawls into bed. Alarm goes off, he gets up, and I snooze. I hear him come into the room and open one of the dresser drawers, then close it. My brain clicks into a sigh and I know exactly what has been up without even needing to ask or check.

My boyfriend has a porn problem. I might actually classify it as a porn addiction. He owns more porn than anyone I have ever known and that is saying a LOT. He has a whole dresser drawer full of DVDs–and it’s a big goddamn dresser. The drawer holds probably close to a hundred–and a CD book full of porn [it holds 150 CDs/DVDs..I counted]. He thankfully doesn’t download porn onto my computer [he doesn't own one] but has tried and has snooped through my computer not looking for my secrets but looking for my porn.

Fuck, I like porn. I used to sell it. I have an external hard drive that houses porn for me [and I'm a girl, so this is unusual]. I am not anti-porn. We’ve watched porn together and, while it’s not been to my taste, it’s been fun. We’ve picked out porn together at the store. We’ve watched my porn together [which he didn't like..sigh].

But it’s more that he watches porn or is a little sneaky about watching porn–I know that’s not unusual. I don’t really care about his masturbation habits. They are, largely, not my problem. It’s that he’d rather watch porn than fuck me.

Bullshit, you say? I think not.

We haven’t had actual penis-in-my-pussy sex in…months. Reason? I’m fat and he’s not attracted to my body enough to get on top and pump away. He can’t stay hard when he fucks me. He can barely look at me. He never comes. We actually broke up [he did the dumping] near the beginning of our relationship because he told me that my weight was an issue and he wasn’t attracted to me because of that reason. I was devastated–I’ve been dumped before for the same reason.

I valiantly stayed friends with him because I genuinely like him–he’s a sweet man, albeit with huge problems with sex and porn and his own body image. All of my friends [and some of his that found out the real deal] thought I was nuts. I thought I was kind of nuts but, well, the heart tells no lies, right?

We obviously ended up getting back together and it’s been about seven months since then. In that time, we’ve had penis-in-my-pussy sex maybe three times and there have been lots of blowjobs and lots of him playing with my pussy with his hand. Except that’s dropped off lately [two weeks..]. But, at the same time, he’s watching porn while I sleep or watching porn when I’m not home and happily whacking it pretty often and hiding it from me unless I explicitly ask him when [usually when we're fucking around and he's either having a hard time coming or after he explodes with either a teeny orgasm or he gets it all over me] he came last. It’s not the porn, it’s the hiding it and the promise of sex ‘soon’ but sneaking off to get his rocks off when we both know he has trouble coming when he’s come in the last twenty four hours.
It used to be that he’d watch porn with me while I was blowing him which, in retrospect, was probably not the best idea but I like giving head and wanted some cock. It was mildly disheartening to look up and never [not exaggerating] find his eyes on me.

So I’m apparently a good mouth to fuck while he watches barbie doll girls fuck on the big screen tv in the bedroom that was explicitly bought for porn-watching but I’m not good enough to fuck on my own merit. It hurts.

But I got up and jacked off this morning because I was horny and because I knew, despite my shaving and prepping the body for some sex, that I probably was not gonna get any today. I decided to confirm my suspicions and pulled open the drawer he had open. Yup, right on top of his socks–Kiss My Ass 3 and Fem Dom Slave Training Underground Sessions. It made me want to cry. It isn’t the first time that he’s hidden porn-watching from me–he knows I don’t have a problem with porn, but he must know that I’d be a little unhappy that we were having no sex and he was doing the porn thing anyways or he wouldn’t hide it.

I got in the shower and smoothed on the specially-formulated-for-no-bumps shave gel that I use for a smooth coochy. It’s been a couple weeks since I shaved, so it’ll take a little longer. I shave with a turquoise blue plastic razor that I have about twenty blades for [thank god for Costco..] and think about the situation.

He’s said before that he has a problem with porn and that he thinks it’s negatively affecting our sex life. I asked him what he wanted to do about that and he said he wanted to cut back on watching porn before we saw each other and that he wanted to talk about it more. This was before we moved in together and we’ve never talked about it again. I don’t know how to. I try to be supportive and not be the bitchy girlfriend. I try to listen when he talks about his favorite actors [Tom Byron] and actresses [Belladonna]. I assure him, perhaps mistakenly, that lots of guys watch porn.

When I moved in, he said he wanted to not buy any porn for quite awhile because he was tired of being broke. I offered my support to that–there are times when he’s dead flat broke and he has said it’s because he’s bought too much porn that month. There have been times when he’s been late with rent because of it–five or six DVDs a month at 30-40 bucks a pop add up. I know he’s been buying porn again, as the two DVDs from this morning were new. I can’t remember the context, but I made a gentle suggestion the other day of why doesn’t he rent porn and, if he sees something he likes, buy it afterwards as he has some porn that he just doesn’t like, but that he bought.

I consider, as I scrape away the unwanted hair, that I don’t know what to do. I’m particularly hurt, I decide, as I am one goddamn kinky motherfucker and could’ve starred in Fem Dom Slave Training [was a pro for some time] and he KNOWS that I like topping men. I wish that instead of hiding his desires in pornography which is a lot safer–he can pretend, outwardly, that he was just watching it for the sex and not the bondage or the cbt or the ass-fucking–he would engage me at least a little bit.

I decide that I’m not going to engage him over sex. I’m going to stop asking as I hate asking..I feel like a burden when I ask for sex or attention. If he wants it, he can initiate it. We’re also non-monogamous so there’s nothing to say that I have to get my sex at home, either. I feel like shit saying that but short of a miracle it ain’t happening at the home base.

I finished shaving and rinsed, knowing full well that it was going to go unappreciated. I powder lightly because, as I am a chubby girl, rubbing often leads to razor burn. I feel a sudden pang for friends and fuck buddies from the past. I regret not spending time with a man I have known biblically at a recent kinky event that I attended [on my own]. I regret moving in–would our sex life be better if we weren’t sleeping next to each other? I ponder what ‘love’ means and how it’s manifested in this relationship.

I get dressed.

Confession #1

I’m starting this blog separately from the warhorse livejournal because I want something different, I guess. I have high hopes.