The boyfriend

I have pledged not to be with someone who had a relationship, 'cause really what is the fucking point. But he is in one and I -almost- don't care.

Circumstances can be a bitch sometimes (boy I know about those...) but maybe they are in many cases a blessing in disguise. All I know is that there are some simpler equations: we like what we see, we pursue, we get, we either move on or continue to dig deeper and If you deem OK to use your body as a tool for discovery -like I do-  go for it. My encounters with him from day one have been the most delightful thing for my own pleasure and also from day one, I granted him some sort of trust: I have been able to look at him directly in the eyes when we fuck 'cause I have nothing, nothing to hide, this also happens to me when I get to be so outside of myself with all of my senses absolutely compromised, that truly at this point you can make me promise anything, and I will undoubtedly follow through.

Also, I need to stop right here and tell you -because this is also a time to reflect for me- he is not in any way remotely close to the type of dudes I usually date. He is not over 6'. He doesn't have blue or green eyes. He is not a blonde.
He has very short dark hair, brown eyes and has many scars -both kinds-.
He can be childish, speaks loudly and it is extremely rough around the edges, which totally makes for a good deserved spanking session. He also loves to walk around my apartment fully naked and won't feel ashamed that my huge windows are like a giant screen for my neighbors. He will show up at 4 am in the morning and will bring me fresh flowers and a bottle of anything I asked. When he rings me he talks to me, instead of wanting to close some sort of deal. He is not afraid of leaving me messages,  and can call me 'my love' with an astonishing naturality. He will show me all the joint-smoking tricks that exist in the book and would enjoy it as if he and I were 16.

Sex with him is an adventure that makes my head explode. From the moment my lips and his gets close I can tell there is nothing foreign here, everything just fits. From the moment this indelicate beast puts his fingers between my legs, right then and there I have lost all sense of will and nothing can or will stop the escalation of these intricate sensations that every time turn into a delicious exploration of every corner of us.

I must confess that with him, I am not the agressor no more and I am completely fine with it. I don't feel I want to defeat him or leave him powerless. With no one in a long time, I have felt more fememine, more exalted as a woman, more worshipped and lavished in all I am.


Maybe is the fact that he is only 28 and these dudes are totally somethin' else. Who the fuck knows. 

Savages 2

I only had one day left in Montreal before heading back to New York. To my home and to my boyfriend.

But savage and I had to see each other again. Although everything in me was still very much sore after what we endured, just hours before, I just had to feel all of that weight in me, had to visit the depths of my instinct and decided to actively degrade my body to its lowest level to the point where I had to feel pain, was determined to be teared and torn.

We met at a bar and I couldn't be less interested on the vodka or the place or the music. This shit was NOT a date, this was called: can we just cut the crap and fuck, fuck, fuck? So I had two drinks, talked about whatever, 'cause you know sometimes I am ladylike and it's 'unbecoming' to say: Hi, can we fuck now? (blah)

So I told him. Can we fuck now?


We left and took a cab that took for fucking ever to arrive to his home. His building was O.K. clean outside, didn't look rundown or anything. Now, the entrance was another story. The moment he opened the door it seemed like the inside belonged to a building in the Bronx. Walls with cracks, peeled paint, stained doors and one of those, just missing, right across the hall from his apartment.

He said 'Oh, did I mention that I have roommates?' and I said, no. Then he added 'Oh, ok. Well I do.'
There was a long hallway and some rooms distributed on one side of the place. He took me immediatly to his room, where there was an inflatable mattress on the floor, and dishes, dishes with stuff everywhere. I sat on the mattress and opened my legs as the most direct invitation to me. He kneeled and kissed me and submitted me to the bed. Quickly, desperately and furiously I took his belt off, unzipped his jeans and he just slipped my dress off of me.

Oh God I really couldn't wait for him to be inside of me, that very thought of him just completing me with him, made me insane,
'cause I know how this feels,
'cause I love how this is,
... 'cause I long for this moment of bliss.

Savage was a smart, instictive lover. He really just let go and he just WAS.  But at moments I caught him totally gone and fucking me with wrath and hate. He could have shown me his long rows of teeth wanting to scrape the flesh off of my body.
Right then and there I allowed him continue on his sex voyage, inside of himself and just observed this human leaving it all on me.


Something else happened.

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.