Under the Weather

I've been so sick the past week with an allergy-induced head cold, and in an all-around shitty mood. Yesterday, starting to feel a little better, I realized my bad temper probably had more to do with not getting laid in five days and less with being sick. So, The Artist treated me to a great afternoon romp when I came home early from work.

He started off with kisses on my lips, face and neck, his hands cradling my face, and then got me off with his fingers and tongue. And then again. And then almost a third time, but it was one of those really deep inner cunt orgasms that just go on and on and never quite peak. He could tell I was primed, and started rolling me back and forth - belly and back - whacking my ass and smacking my tits around. With me on my back, he fucked my tits. I licked the cock head every time it emerged, and loved feeling his balls pressed hard against my belly. He slid down and fucked my cunt, kissing my mouth, putting his arms around me, and made me come again. I blew him, unable to take him all the way in because my throat is still sore as all hell, and then watched him jerk off until he came on my face.

I love the look on his face when he calls me his "little whore." A look like he knows he owns me. I'm a feminist, daughter of a feminist, and a dues-paying member of the National Organization for Women, but I love a man who knows he's a man. A man who relishes his masculinity in a pure way, without any misogyny. He respects his woman and can be kind and generous, but knows how to make a woman feel possessed and feel like his woman. Make any sense?

Things are starting to look hopeful on the Girlfriend Search. Chatting up a cute, chubby thing on a BDSM dating site. We have a lot in common, including our relationship situations (i.e. her partner is okay with her having an outside female sex buddy). Keeping fingers crossed.

Take A Hint

Mr. Near Miss - He of the Emotional Maladjustment - actually contacted me again. After two months of no contact, he called in late May. After two or three minutes of a rambling, self-deprecating spiel about how he's horrible and I have every right to hate him and probably don't want to see him and he has no right to ask... he asked to come see me. When I said "no" he acted shocked - kinda throwing a rock through the sincerity of his "I'm so lowly and know you don't want to see me" line. He asked why and I told him it was because I was involved with someone and had agreed to not fuck other men. And that even if I was still solo I wouldn't want to see him - because how did I know he wouldn't just disappear again tomorrow.

That phone conversation ended with him wishing me luck and me telling him to take care. Two days later, on a Friday evening, he called again and left an insanely long voicemail about wanting to talk to me and how he needed to make amends for his behavior and how he envies me, blah blah blah. A couple days later he called again with another rambling message. And again a couple days after that. And again. The messages got more and more desparate, with the final message saying we were right for eachother and he wouldn't be doing this if he didn't think we'd both be better off together and geez it'd only been two months that he'd disappeared. It had been two months since our last phone conversation. I don't wait for anything for two months. I yell at my fucking mother if she doesn't follow through on something within a week.

It became obvious that he wasn't going to go away unless he had some kind of resolution, so the next time he called I answered the phone. He approached the situation like we were just a couple having an argument, like we were involved, like he hadn't disappeared for nine weeks. It got to the point where I had to flat out tell him that I didn't care about him anymore, that he'd missed the motherfucking boat, that I was going to get off the phone with him and never call him again. He said he was sorry that he bailed and I said I wasn't because I'd met my match. I finally had to hang up on him because he just. wasn't. getting it.

I know what was bothering him was the remorse and regret. That feeling where you wish you could go back in time and change things, but you can't. You fucked up and now you have to deal. I sympathize, but am at a point in life where I can't spend any more time or energy on people who are unreliable and emotionally unstable.

In other news, still looking for a girlfriend. Oh my god, chicks are hard to pick up on.