This is a man

1- The one that can't believe you are talking to him but rather takes it slow with poise,  and knows that a smile or a good conversation in a room full of hotter dudes -that have been eye-fucking you- won't mean that you will perform the Kama Sutra on his face the same night.

2- The one that is smart enough to feel, that you may.

3- The one that won't charm you with the expectation of a life you clearly won't be part of, although he once thought this was a killer tactic 'to get in yo' pants mama'

People. it takes a lot to impress me. A huge dick, for example.

4- The one that after you slept with him and shared some big 'Lifetime' moments (yes, the ultra-uber-insanely corny network. Think of Steel Magnolias on a fucking Trazodone binge, and no food) and the same week still will call you with a casual 'whats up girl, what are you doing tonight?' and won't expect that you do a replay or be offended by the fact that you have other plans at somebody else's bed... for example?

This is the same man that the following week, fearlessly, will ask you out again.

5- The one that doesn't call you 'cause in his asshole heart, he knows you are better off without him, BUT will find the way to let you know about it.

6- He whom knows that after that late night you went 'downtown', and both of you are SURE that you are not that into him, but in spite of it will remain courtly and gallant, and also will be this guy who is accepting it with dignity and won't be offended by the fact that you were just horny.

FYI those are the best nights to bump into me.

7- This guy who can embrace his own awkwardness and will have a blast sharing it with you.
8-  The dude that is gracious when you introduce him to the whole city that has been your boyfriend.
9- The one that does not make any decisions for you i.e I am not sure she likes me that much.
10- The one that is sure no matter what, that I am a fucking romantic, loyal, faithful and full of admiration for him, particularly in the mornings while I am being handcuffed.

Savages

I call him savage.
 
... and the reason is very simple: we shared around 10 hours of exquisite raw sex.

Not only I had no hope for this twenty something boy, but this particular time I was not actively searching for anything: sweet or bitter. Or hot. Or heavier. Or rough. (or so I thought) I was just contemplating these new group of humans in a new city, in a new country.

At the bar, middle of August, full summer after dancing all kinds of 90´s classics, we stood in front of each other -all sweaty and agitated- and did not exchange a word until it was time to go somewhere else. Bar lights went on, 'O.K guys time to go home' (its equivalent in French) and the boy  asked me If I wanted to join him for a walk. (Hey, you gotta at least admire he was a bit creative)

 I accepted.


We ended up going to his friend´s place who was out of town. There were pieces of a messy human being, dishes with unfinished cereal, glasses, a half eaten clementine, some bananas a couple of days after their time.  I sat on the part of the couch that had no bags, clothing and papers on it. He offered me some water, followed by some random small talk and then there it was... that recognizable and mute glimpse that clearly says 'I want to fuck your brains out' followed by some silence, and then his 21 year old lips pronounced: 'I wonder how it would be like to kiss you'. To which I replied, getting closer to him and grabbing his chin 'I can help you with that.'

At first he seemed too eager and anxious. It took him exactly 30 seconds to get on top of me. I was immediately reminded of those high school encounters, charged with heavy breathing, clumsiness and desperation and the impending curiosity to feel anything that could mean going further. He lifted me up and took me to the bed (also full of crap). He pulled up my skirt and took  my underwear off and proceeded to lick me. This time he was assertive, slow and had that precise rhythm that this delicate piece of anatomy requires.

Happy Birthday to me.

Hours into the game, and what it must have seemed like days for patient neighbors, the boy wouldn't stop. I didn't want to either, I found a new 6 feet 5 inches lot where I could just do it all. He allowed me to play what I pleased, as he played with me, while we continued the devouring rituals.  We slipped over each other, and from time to time drops of salty, transparent water fell over my cheeks and then it was like a stream that wouldn't end running. I decided to completely surrender to the water, the salt, to the constant dripping almost hurting my face.

I stuck my tongue out so I can only (and intentionally) barely touch his lips.  Words that come to mind now: slower, closer, surprise, push, switch, tease=GAME.

Savage appetite was only fueled by the fact that this body was extremely foreign to him, as his was to me and I must add, while lost in the long swaying, there was a pact of vanishing in both our eyes that concurred: no fear, no future, no past, no intention, no harm.


He was an easy one that would gladly get lost in his body and somebody's but also, It took another encounter for me to learn that Savage, was one very dirty (and scary) boy. VERY.

Enjoying me

Thanks to someone that follows my blog and asked about it yesterday, I thought it was only fair to return his care in the form of some words and for me a way to remind me how much I love filling out this box. If you must know, I have been dealing with packing, giving stuff away, unpacking, tracking and arriving in another country. Then, my mother's illness her doctor´s appointments, her treatment and overall turning my life around. However,  that doesn't mean I have not been enjoying the pleasures of my body.

But let's see where did I leave the last time. After the naked police officer, I came to Colombia and of course I met old lovers. Easy to think that those old flames could somehow be revived and give way to a new story. It should also be known that old patterns from some of them haven't changed and for the love I want to grow, those cannot be there anymore.

New stories can't start with recycled feelings.

I was invited to a party by one of those 'old flames' I must say that I arrived with a guy that was visiting and with whom I had a very short affair. By short I mean one night. Hey, don't judge I also love to visit places and have the option of some 'local love'. So, the one who invited me to this party was surrounded by dudes (I said yumm) and there was one that I set my sights on. I proceeded to toy with the visitor, to occasionally lock eyes with the host, and definitely put on the moves with the new dude. The foreigner decided to retire -not before letting me know how close he'd rather sleep with me that evening- and went back home, safe (and untouched) to his girlfriend. The other two stayed, so I had to make the best of the situation: I wanted the two of them (hahahaha) BUT I knew my friend wouldn't go along with that, so the least I could do, was to play my cards right.

Host and I get pretty hot and heavy at the bar. Host asked me to go home with him. Host and I had one epic body battle in bed.

Next day, I really wanted to see his friend. (and please, and again, save the judgement: I don't have a boyfriend, If you are a dude I am as hungry as you, and I also belong to the party of S.L.G (See, Like, Get) 'cause people in the love quest, time is of essence.

So I wrote to the new dude. Asked him out. He said kinda yes, then hours later, changed his mind. I knew exactly these things: 1) He liked me 2) He is one loyal motherfucker, and I do respect that. 3) If he knew beforehand, after this revelation, he will never be at the same place with me and his friend.

Never.

Friend of the epic battle finds out. Friend got pissed. Friend cannot face me and wouldn't talk to me which I only found out months after getting but silence from him. 

In all honesty, I am not arrogant when it comes to apologizing when I know I am in the wrong. But this is not the case.  If I don't act like I feel I can, I would be completely incoherent. Unfortunately for some 'traitor' is it not a word I use very often to talk about myself.

This is in part my definition of enjoying me (with you).


 

Naked New York's Finest

I joined a dating service called Happn and what it does, is to connect you with people that you've crossed paths with. Let me tell you, the premise sounded super cool to me, 'cause in all honesty I have at least 3 crushes a day with dudes that I find delicious.
(As I am writing this entry there is one sitting in front of me at this coffee shop.)

On my first week of having the app, let's talk of one of those Fridays when I came back home at 2am, with maybe one too many Jameson's on my body, I decided to check out the app and see what up. Well, what was up was this police dude who contacted me and immediately during our 2 minute text exchange, he proceeded to send me the picture that 'adornes' this post. My reaction was -huh?- even though I was drunk I still thought of the following:

1- Is he hot or not
2- Wait. Weren't we just texting for about just 2 min+
3- This is a police man. Police man. Police man. Yum... maybe?
4- Indiscretions like these, are great writing material.

I did reply. with a: Is this you right now? (code for: Perhaps I will be the equivalent of Samantha at FDNY's station... I wouldn't mind...)

He said no. He was on duty and driving on a car patrolling the streets of the very dangerous Upper East Side. Right after, he sent me a dark pic of him while he was working. Didn't like his face very much. He was wearing glasses and seemed a bit off, kinda insecure. Mmmm.

I kept on drinking tequila and we continued our conversation escalating into the very sexual.
I gotta admit I was pushing it, and being really flirtatious because I really wanted to see, how far this will go.

In every sense.

...It was already very late and I started to feel drunk-leepy (yeah, you know, the drunk the falls asleep on the couch 'cause he or she just wanted to the rest the eyes for 5m) He said he was going to take a break.

I fell asleep (I think in the couch) and woke up to see more messages of him pushing me to send him a picture: I. Don't. Do. That. And with the morning light he sent me another pic. still looked not hot, insecure and ... just not my type. I also remembered the naked picture and said: What the fuck was he thinking?

Unlike our Congressmen, Senators, public figures etc. I am somehow careful when it comes to this. God forbid it ends up at a blog like mine.

Sex is my trap

It is the truth. I have tried what I would like to call my own 'sex-hab' which is some kind of rehab for sex addicts, like me. Before we continue, let me explain a little bit more about my addiction: mine consists of adoring the way sex makes me feel, and the more I know myself, it is even more intense. I feel free. I reach the highest altitudes of mind: so much, I need to meditate afterwards to come down. It can also take me hours to 'recover'. And my favorite part, it makes me worship every inch of my body as I would do, with yours. I am addict to watch and why not since we are at the accepting part of it, I am a total slave of my senses.

Just now writing these lines -I think- this doesn't sound bad.

What is bad is, because of these myriad of sensations that transform me into a heavenly creature and a beast -making me love and get deeper into every stage of it- is the fact that I get trapped in those, so what happens is that I make of myself my own object of 'feeling' and I do the same with you, which greatly limits any capacity to see anything else beyond that. So when I lose you, I lose me.

And I hate to fucking lose.

...Then the cycle starts and ends, once again.

My addiction is my perdition and I KNOW IT. It is because of that reasoning (and also because I feel like shit) that I have decided to surrender to these thoughts on an honest attempt to come out of this cyclic and sweet trap with a lovingly open heart,  because I also know how he is vast in love and immense, the second component to this sex-hab: is accepting the power that my physical self has over me with my head as the commander.

And the third part is: I am writing these lines because is the only way I know, to let me out of this.

Husband!

I recently joined Tinder to see what the 'excessive excitement' was about. These are the words that come to mind after my 3 week stint: Douche Bags and Interstate Love. I would react with a resounding NO to the first and I would definitely  consider the other but, my dudes: Help. Yourselves.

Now let's take a look at your profile.  Are you guilty of any of the following? Right below you will see exactly how my brain reacts to it.

Do you appear with an earpiece? 
My Brain:
Miami Vice. Or Secret Service (yumm...but no) perhaps if you were in fact Secret Service you wouldn't be on Tinder to begin with. Hiccup. Sorry, my bad. I just remembered the discreet affair with the screaming 'lady' in Cartagena.

Are you holding a fish?
My Brain: Huh?


Do you exclusively have pictures with Asian chicks?
My brain: Mmm. Swipe.

Do you appear on pictures with friends that are hotter than you?
My Brain: (I think)
The risk of me wanting to meet you, so I can meet them, is 98%

Do you only have your height as the best line you could come up with on your profile? 
Do me a favor, at least show a bit of an effort and you may get laid. (two lines or less will do for me, I swear.)

Do you have more than one image when you are drunk beyond recognition? 
My Brain:
Dude, spring break 1989 revival... every weekend?

In your gallery your 'pecs' look bigger than mine?
My Brain:
Pleeeease. We haven't met and you made me feel bad already? Sad Face.



Is your name Knut?
My brain:
I would have  sued my parents and then I would have lied. All my life. Everywhere. What the hell.

Do you have an altered picture using any of those photo editors, where you appear with two heads and thought: 'Shit, this is so awesome!'
My Brain:
Is not. And where the fuck were your friends?. Swipe.

You have a photo of 'A' bicep, blurry as hell, no filters could have ever saved it... and that's it?
My Brain:
HUSBAND!

I am game