Hottest thing I've found on the internet so far: http://gaygifs.tumblr.com/
Recommend others, please?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
In Which Carnita Joins OK Cupid, Meets a Disarmingly Attractive Ginger, and Acquires a New Fantasy
It is a god damned beautiful day in North Carolina. I am going to make an effort not to edit too heavily as I write so that I make sure to get all this down before it becomes necessary to go spend some time in the sun.
Let's begin with Agreement Phase 1. Simon and I agreed, for the moment, to keep dating activities--mine, anyway--to the earlier parts of the day because he tends to get the most intense emotional stress when we're apart at night. In the interest of being slow and deliberate, this seems fair to me. At first, we'll avoid the most likely triggers while we build some trust and get practice negotiating all this. We didn't set a specific time for renegotiation, and I'm beginning to realize this may have not been a good idea. For these things to work properly, we need to be specific and clear, be able to anticipate things ahead of time, etc. So I think I am going to suggest to him that we set a time limit on the current arrangement.
My concern about correct procedure is totally separate from what is making me a little impatient right now. Simon and I both joined OK Cupid not more than two weeks ago, and I have already gotten lots of messages from interesting men and women despite the vagueness of my profile photo. I've already had a couple of dates. He, on the other hand, is getting pretty discouraged by the apparent lack of interest he's managed to generate.
I know that OK Cupid is way easier for a woman--it's just the site's modus operandi that the men do all the work and the women just sit back and say yes or no--but it really does seem rather odd that he has had almost no responses to his messages. I mean, his profile clearly shows that he's interesting and talented and attractive. So my working theory is that women have more of a tendency to reject a polyamorous man than vice versa. I've had guys who have no previous experience with non-monogamy being interested in meeting me. Somehow I doubt that there will be as much interest from women in a man who is very straightforward about being married/partnered. I am not sure how to test that hypothesis. My second theory is that his photo is not revealing enough to generate any interest in his appearance. He's trying to be protective of our personal lives, and so am I, but I think it may really be hurting his chances of meeting folks. Anyway, initial problems aside...
I met someone I like on my second date! I totally wasn't expecting connection or chemistry to happen that quickly, but sure enough, the minute I shook his hand, I knew that the basic ingredients were there. I'm not sure why; it's not like he's any sort of conventional hottie, but I find him to be gut-stirringly attractive. I'm not usually into redheads in particular, but his gingerness is somehow very sexy and peculiarly rugged. He's an accomplished craft artist who owns both a production facility and a school. He's refreshingly honest, he smiles and makes lots of eye contact, he listens and asks the right questions, he has a good sense of humor...
He is also involved in a somewhat complicated situation. He lives with his child's mother, and they are both officially allowed to date other people, but it's not perfect. There's a touch of jealousy at times--which, praise goddess, he was honest about!--but they're trying to make it work for the sake of the kid. I think that's actually very cool of them, and I appreciate how unapologetic and straightforward he is about it all. It bodes very well for his overall character, not to mention his sexual personality.
The reason why this makes it difficult to be patient is that dreamboat, hereafter known as Lachlan, literally works seven days a week, usually until 8:00 at night. And I am not to leave Simon alone at night. And Lachlan is only available at night. And I am not available any night. See?
Waiting weeks or months for the freedom to investigate all his freckles is going to be a chore. Possibly such a chore for him that he loses interest. I can't possibly expect him to hang around and wait a couple of months for my curfew to get lifted.
Oh well. Welcome to after-the-fact polyamory, Carnita.
The rest of my OK Cupid adventures have mostly served to create some possible friend connections. We might be able to make some poly couple buddies out of my investigations.
Now, on to my new(ish?) fantasy....
Basically, I've realized that gay male sexuality is a huge huge huge turn on for me. I think I started to realize it a long time ago with the anecdotal observations of how fascinating it was to watch boys make out. Then I realized it a little more clearly with James, especially the part when he was going down on Simon. I mean, every time I think about that, I get that hungry churny feeling in my belly. Mrrrrow.
So the most recent phase of all this realization began with a masturbatory experiment. I found some sortof sweet, not-too-hardcore gay porn, and I was so immediately turned on that I surprised myself. I mean, I have always had a bit of an ick factor with butt sex, and maybe I still do, but now I know that it's not so icky that I can't ever enjoy watching it. I finally found this one photo that was for some reason evocative enough to supply all the fantasy material I needed for many lovely orgasms in a row. It was really pretty cheesy: two underwear model-type shirtless hotties in a barn during the spring, with hottie number 1 sitting in the rustic little window, and hottie number 2 sweetly jacking him off. I have no idea what was so hot about it....
And then I started thinking about Simon with James again, and I gave myself permission to explore that without judgment. And then I started thinking about all-male schools (preferably high school age or older, ha ha) and their sharp little uniforms...
I'm really onto something with that. We'll see exactly what as the plot develops. I just know that there hasn't in a very long time been any scenario-based fantasy that could make me cream myself so thoroughly.
I have a naked time date with Simon tomorrow. I'm psyched.
Signing off to go play in the sun and think about two men who would have trouble conjuring up a way to look more different from one another. It makes for a very interesting tableau.
Let's begin with Agreement Phase 1. Simon and I agreed, for the moment, to keep dating activities--mine, anyway--to the earlier parts of the day because he tends to get the most intense emotional stress when we're apart at night. In the interest of being slow and deliberate, this seems fair to me. At first, we'll avoid the most likely triggers while we build some trust and get practice negotiating all this. We didn't set a specific time for renegotiation, and I'm beginning to realize this may have not been a good idea. For these things to work properly, we need to be specific and clear, be able to anticipate things ahead of time, etc. So I think I am going to suggest to him that we set a time limit on the current arrangement.
My concern about correct procedure is totally separate from what is making me a little impatient right now. Simon and I both joined OK Cupid not more than two weeks ago, and I have already gotten lots of messages from interesting men and women despite the vagueness of my profile photo. I've already had a couple of dates. He, on the other hand, is getting pretty discouraged by the apparent lack of interest he's managed to generate.
I know that OK Cupid is way easier for a woman--it's just the site's modus operandi that the men do all the work and the women just sit back and say yes or no--but it really does seem rather odd that he has had almost no responses to his messages. I mean, his profile clearly shows that he's interesting and talented and attractive. So my working theory is that women have more of a tendency to reject a polyamorous man than vice versa. I've had guys who have no previous experience with non-monogamy being interested in meeting me. Somehow I doubt that there will be as much interest from women in a man who is very straightforward about being married/partnered. I am not sure how to test that hypothesis. My second theory is that his photo is not revealing enough to generate any interest in his appearance. He's trying to be protective of our personal lives, and so am I, but I think it may really be hurting his chances of meeting folks. Anyway, initial problems aside...
I met someone I like on my second date! I totally wasn't expecting connection or chemistry to happen that quickly, but sure enough, the minute I shook his hand, I knew that the basic ingredients were there. I'm not sure why; it's not like he's any sort of conventional hottie, but I find him to be gut-stirringly attractive. I'm not usually into redheads in particular, but his gingerness is somehow very sexy and peculiarly rugged. He's an accomplished craft artist who owns both a production facility and a school. He's refreshingly honest, he smiles and makes lots of eye contact, he listens and asks the right questions, he has a good sense of humor...
He is also involved in a somewhat complicated situation. He lives with his child's mother, and they are both officially allowed to date other people, but it's not perfect. There's a touch of jealousy at times--which, praise goddess, he was honest about!--but they're trying to make it work for the sake of the kid. I think that's actually very cool of them, and I appreciate how unapologetic and straightforward he is about it all. It bodes very well for his overall character, not to mention his sexual personality.
The reason why this makes it difficult to be patient is that dreamboat, hereafter known as Lachlan, literally works seven days a week, usually until 8:00 at night. And I am not to leave Simon alone at night. And Lachlan is only available at night. And I am not available any night. See?
Waiting weeks or months for the freedom to investigate all his freckles is going to be a chore. Possibly such a chore for him that he loses interest. I can't possibly expect him to hang around and wait a couple of months for my curfew to get lifted.
Oh well. Welcome to after-the-fact polyamory, Carnita.
The rest of my OK Cupid adventures have mostly served to create some possible friend connections. We might be able to make some poly couple buddies out of my investigations.
Now, on to my new(ish?) fantasy....
Basically, I've realized that gay male sexuality is a huge huge huge turn on for me. I think I started to realize it a long time ago with the anecdotal observations of how fascinating it was to watch boys make out. Then I realized it a little more clearly with James, especially the part when he was going down on Simon. I mean, every time I think about that, I get that hungry churny feeling in my belly. Mrrrrow.
So the most recent phase of all this realization began with a masturbatory experiment. I found some sortof sweet, not-too-hardcore gay porn, and I was so immediately turned on that I surprised myself. I mean, I have always had a bit of an ick factor with butt sex, and maybe I still do, but now I know that it's not so icky that I can't ever enjoy watching it. I finally found this one photo that was for some reason evocative enough to supply all the fantasy material I needed for many lovely orgasms in a row. It was really pretty cheesy: two underwear model-type shirtless hotties in a barn during the spring, with hottie number 1 sitting in the rustic little window, and hottie number 2 sweetly jacking him off. I have no idea what was so hot about it....
And then I started thinking about Simon with James again, and I gave myself permission to explore that without judgment. And then I started thinking about all-male schools (preferably high school age or older, ha ha) and their sharp little uniforms...
I'm really onto something with that. We'll see exactly what as the plot develops. I just know that there hasn't in a very long time been any scenario-based fantasy that could make me cream myself so thoroughly.
I have a naked time date with Simon tomorrow. I'm psyched.
Signing off to go play in the sun and think about two men who would have trouble conjuring up a way to look more different from one another. It makes for a very interesting tableau.
Friday, March 18, 2011
In Which There Is One Last Act Within the Old Paradigm
Gentle readers, I have a confession.
Well, remember all that stuff about nonviolent communication and compassion and love that polyamory inspired? It's not that anything about the plan has changed; I still fully intend to continue to throw myself into reorgnanizing my brains to become a healthier and more emotionally mature person. I want to learn to behave more compassionately, love more deeply, and treat myself with more care and consideration. I want to resist the urge to blame and take offense, I want to handle my emotions sanely, and I want to reach a deeper level of acceptance of people on their own terms. All of this is still true.
However, yesterday I did something that completely violates all the rules of the new way, and I feel pretty fine about it. I may regret it later, but I had my reasons, and I made my choice. I am coming to see this rather childish, reactionary, and quite violent gesture of mine as the last little death throes of the old me, demanding some recognition as it passes on. It probably needed that, poor thing.
It is no mystery why it happened the way it did. In about the most vindictive and horrible way possible, I burned--nay, blew to smithereens--a bridge with an old "friend" by whom I felt extremely slighted. I had spent several months crying and raging over Elena as she had suddenly--truly with no warning--begun to coldly ignore me or treat me with vague scorn. It had been going on for months, and I was coping with the slow realization that I had actually somehow fallen in love with her, albeit non-sexually. I'm talking about the real thing though: totally batshit crazy in love--you know, the dangerous kind that threatens to crumble foundations and smash your psyche into little shards of busted mirror when the loved one leaves you.
And yes, I was feeling busted, to say the least. Like someone had reached into my chest and ripped something out and not bothered to tidy up. I had stayed up all night crying over her, screaming on the inside, hitting things, and once I calmed down a little, trying to figure out how to at least create closure if I can't have her back.
So I went to work exhausted, and wrote her a short e-mail--much shorter than the one I wanted to send. I told her I hated her. Then she sent a very cold one back that explained, rather nonsensically, why she didn't want to see me. The last line announced that she was formally ending our friendship. It pissed me off, but I was relieved to at least have a little kindling to burn. So then I replied with a HORRIBLE one.
I mean, I haven't sent a letter that nasty and hurtful in years. I called her a liar and a faithless little crab and said that she would die alone and adrift if she didn't change...I snarked about how she could avoid that fate if only she would trust any real human more than she trusts her statues and whispering voices (she's a sortof eclectic spiritualist who actually does put a lot of stock in the messages she receives during her Ayahuasca hallucinations). I mean, it was epically bitchy. I was pretty surprised that I had it in me.
But I immediately felt much, much better. Being a solipsist, she is unlikely to have allowed the contents of my screed to touch her. Once she discards people, she's done. I know this from listening to how easily she could go from hanging out with someone enthusiastically several times a week to being convinced--usually by some minor event that should be just a blip in the course of a meaningful friendship--that the same person was somehow poisonous or contaminated with some vague disease which threatened Elena's...um...purity? Or clarity of purpose? Or something? I never quite got her rationalizations. It always seemed to me like a way to cover up for an intense fear of intimacy. Intimacy is just so messy, and it brings so much foreign energy into your life...EWWW....
Okay, I'll try to resist falling into shit-talking again. But hey, that is one of the perks of an anonymous blog that no one knows about. I can do this without harming anyone...except maybe myself, if I can't let it go.
That is exactly my point, though. I feel like this one last catty bitch-out needed to happen so that I could reach some sort of equilibrium and walk into the next phase feeling clean and balanced. I had to purge her from my life to complete the picture of an ideal future that my reflections on social experience have been painting for me lately, of a quite exclusive tribe that has no room for people who don't "get it."
My tribe has to "get" polyamory, of course, but the issue is so much larger. I don't mean any absolute "it" that must be got because I realize that most of what I want is subjective and entirely qualitative: harmony and mutual understanding, rather than specific characteristics. There are, however, plenty of specific characteristics that I am learning to watch out for. My experience with Elena has certainly taught me a few new things to be wary of, as well as a few techniques that people use to cover up their flaws. I won't be blindsided by the same things again.
So, here's to big, messy goodbyes! Goodbye, Elena. Goodbye, monogamy. Goodbye, blind acceptance of jealousy. Goodbye, catty note-writing. Goodbye, energy vampires. Goodbye, shame. Goodbye, self-loathing. Goodbye, denial and avoidance. Goodbye, emotional dependency. I hope you all find a nice, warm beach somewhere to spend the rest of your days without me.
Well, remember all that stuff about nonviolent communication and compassion and love that polyamory inspired? It's not that anything about the plan has changed; I still fully intend to continue to throw myself into reorgnanizing my brains to become a healthier and more emotionally mature person. I want to learn to behave more compassionately, love more deeply, and treat myself with more care and consideration. I want to resist the urge to blame and take offense, I want to handle my emotions sanely, and I want to reach a deeper level of acceptance of people on their own terms. All of this is still true.
However, yesterday I did something that completely violates all the rules of the new way, and I feel pretty fine about it. I may regret it later, but I had my reasons, and I made my choice. I am coming to see this rather childish, reactionary, and quite violent gesture of mine as the last little death throes of the old me, demanding some recognition as it passes on. It probably needed that, poor thing.
It is no mystery why it happened the way it did. In about the most vindictive and horrible way possible, I burned--nay, blew to smithereens--a bridge with an old "friend" by whom I felt extremely slighted. I had spent several months crying and raging over Elena as she had suddenly--truly with no warning--begun to coldly ignore me or treat me with vague scorn. It had been going on for months, and I was coping with the slow realization that I had actually somehow fallen in love with her, albeit non-sexually. I'm talking about the real thing though: totally batshit crazy in love--you know, the dangerous kind that threatens to crumble foundations and smash your psyche into little shards of busted mirror when the loved one leaves you.
And yes, I was feeling busted, to say the least. Like someone had reached into my chest and ripped something out and not bothered to tidy up. I had stayed up all night crying over her, screaming on the inside, hitting things, and once I calmed down a little, trying to figure out how to at least create closure if I can't have her back.
So I went to work exhausted, and wrote her a short e-mail--much shorter than the one I wanted to send. I told her I hated her. Then she sent a very cold one back that explained, rather nonsensically, why she didn't want to see me. The last line announced that she was formally ending our friendship. It pissed me off, but I was relieved to at least have a little kindling to burn. So then I replied with a HORRIBLE one.
I mean, I haven't sent a letter that nasty and hurtful in years. I called her a liar and a faithless little crab and said that she would die alone and adrift if she didn't change...I snarked about how she could avoid that fate if only she would trust any real human more than she trusts her statues and whispering voices (she's a sortof eclectic spiritualist who actually does put a lot of stock in the messages she receives during her Ayahuasca hallucinations). I mean, it was epically bitchy. I was pretty surprised that I had it in me.
But I immediately felt much, much better. Being a solipsist, she is unlikely to have allowed the contents of my screed to touch her. Once she discards people, she's done. I know this from listening to how easily she could go from hanging out with someone enthusiastically several times a week to being convinced--usually by some minor event that should be just a blip in the course of a meaningful friendship--that the same person was somehow poisonous or contaminated with some vague disease which threatened Elena's...um...purity? Or clarity of purpose? Or something? I never quite got her rationalizations. It always seemed to me like a way to cover up for an intense fear of intimacy. Intimacy is just so messy, and it brings so much foreign energy into your life...EWWW....
Okay, I'll try to resist falling into shit-talking again. But hey, that is one of the perks of an anonymous blog that no one knows about. I can do this without harming anyone...except maybe myself, if I can't let it go.
That is exactly my point, though. I feel like this one last catty bitch-out needed to happen so that I could reach some sort of equilibrium and walk into the next phase feeling clean and balanced. I had to purge her from my life to complete the picture of an ideal future that my reflections on social experience have been painting for me lately, of a quite exclusive tribe that has no room for people who don't "get it."
My tribe has to "get" polyamory, of course, but the issue is so much larger. I don't mean any absolute "it" that must be got because I realize that most of what I want is subjective and entirely qualitative: harmony and mutual understanding, rather than specific characteristics. There are, however, plenty of specific characteristics that I am learning to watch out for. My experience with Elena has certainly taught me a few new things to be wary of, as well as a few techniques that people use to cover up their flaws. I won't be blindsided by the same things again.
So, here's to big, messy goodbyes! Goodbye, Elena. Goodbye, monogamy. Goodbye, blind acceptance of jealousy. Goodbye, catty note-writing. Goodbye, energy vampires. Goodbye, shame. Goodbye, self-loathing. Goodbye, denial and avoidance. Goodbye, emotional dependency. I hope you all find a nice, warm beach somewhere to spend the rest of your days without me.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
In Which Carnita Practices Using a Very Specific Methodology of Communication
This is one of the times when I am writing here not because I have a lot of steamy details to relate, but because what I'm feeling is generally inappropriate for public consumption. I am in a highly emotional state that keeps wandering all around the landscape of possibility. I am also totally neglecting work in order to write.
I'm practicing my Nonviolent Communication technique (NVC). (For more info about NVC, see http://www.cnvc.org/Training/nvc-chapter-1)
So here's my little four-part NVC expression of my current scenario:
1. When I think about work right now,
2. I feel apathetic
3. Because I need the clarity that I find in self-expression, and work is not providing that for me right now.
4. So, work, could you just hang on a minute while I take care of my needs? Thanks.
This has clearly created a monster, but I love it. Here we go with a few epistolary NVC expressions:
---------------------------
Dear James,
When you come into the tutoring lab and sit for hours without talking to me, I feel...
- Ashamed because I need to feel like I matter to people, especially ones I have cared about.
- Resentful because I need integrity from my friends.
- Helpless because I need mutuality.
So, could you please stop ignoring me and initiate some honest conversation?
---------------------------
Dear Elena,
When you don't make an effort to see me (and then speak to me in a bored tone of voice when we do speak), I feel....
- Dejected because I need companionship.
- Disappointed because I need consistency and consideration.
- Wary because I need to trust you after the last time I was hurt because we did not talk for months.
- Mistrustful because I need respect.
So, could you please make some plans with me, act like you actually want to see me, and then stick to the plans? If not, then please clearly communicate your unwillingness to do anything to maintain a friendship so that I can start processing that reality?
---------------------------
Dear Simon,
When you use childish expressions and tones of voice to demand certain types of attention from me, I feel irritated and disgusted because I need respect for my personal space and a sense of competence from my partner. So, could you try to articulate your needs to me in a normal, adult tone of voice?
When we discuss the topic of rules and boundaries in our relationship, I often feel hurt and exasperated because I need trust and understanding. So, could you try to frame more of these discussions in positive, affirmative, can-do terms? Also, could you acknowledge my negative feelings along with your own?
When you make those crumpled, drawn, frowning faces and start a lot of sentences with negative assertions during a conversation about polyamory, I feel frustrated because I need mutuality and harmony from you. So, could you try to focus on making our conversations more productive?
--------------------------
Dear Dad,
When you use a condescending tone of voice to question my life choices, I feel disheartened because I need love and support. I don't want to tell you things about my life if you are going to criticize them. So, could you please offer me more unconditional approval?
--------------------------
So deliciously self-oriented! I love it. I want to train myself to be able to articulate myself this way whenever it seems useful.
Furthermore, I am hoping that the heightened communication skills NVC offers can help us to navigate the new poly waters.
Did I even mention that Simon and I are in the midst of the mono-poly transition?
Whew. Yeah. Last night was a big milestone in that process for me because we actually had the opportunity to discuss poly stuff with someone who has experience--a sweet, mild-mannered Couchsurfer who I plan to hang out with again soon. I hadn't realized how much I needed a sense of community and understanding from a real person who could talk to me live and in the flesh. Online forums are great and all, but they are no substitute for real people, and this guy--we'll call him Michael--is certainly real, and kind, and interested, and generous with his knowledge.
Signing off for now.
I'm practicing my Nonviolent Communication technique (NVC). (For more info about NVC, see http://www.cnvc.org/Training/nvc-chapter-1)
So here's my little four-part NVC expression of my current scenario:
1. When I think about work right now,
2. I feel apathetic
3. Because I need the clarity that I find in self-expression, and work is not providing that for me right now.
4. So, work, could you just hang on a minute while I take care of my needs? Thanks.
This has clearly created a monster, but I love it. Here we go with a few epistolary NVC expressions:
---------------------------
Dear James,
When you come into the tutoring lab and sit for hours without talking to me, I feel...
- Ashamed because I need to feel like I matter to people, especially ones I have cared about.
- Resentful because I need integrity from my friends.
- Helpless because I need mutuality.
So, could you please stop ignoring me and initiate some honest conversation?
---------------------------
Dear Elena,
When you don't make an effort to see me (and then speak to me in a bored tone of voice when we do speak), I feel....
- Dejected because I need companionship.
- Disappointed because I need consistency and consideration.
- Wary because I need to trust you after the last time I was hurt because we did not talk for months.
- Mistrustful because I need respect.
So, could you please make some plans with me, act like you actually want to see me, and then stick to the plans? If not, then please clearly communicate your unwillingness to do anything to maintain a friendship so that I can start processing that reality?
---------------------------
Dear Simon,
When you use childish expressions and tones of voice to demand certain types of attention from me, I feel irritated and disgusted because I need respect for my personal space and a sense of competence from my partner. So, could you try to articulate your needs to me in a normal, adult tone of voice?
When we discuss the topic of rules and boundaries in our relationship, I often feel hurt and exasperated because I need trust and understanding. So, could you try to frame more of these discussions in positive, affirmative, can-do terms? Also, could you acknowledge my negative feelings along with your own?
When you make those crumpled, drawn, frowning faces and start a lot of sentences with negative assertions during a conversation about polyamory, I feel frustrated because I need mutuality and harmony from you. So, could you try to focus on making our conversations more productive?
--------------------------
Dear Dad,
When you use a condescending tone of voice to question my life choices, I feel disheartened because I need love and support. I don't want to tell you things about my life if you are going to criticize them. So, could you please offer me more unconditional approval?
--------------------------
So deliciously self-oriented! I love it. I want to train myself to be able to articulate myself this way whenever it seems useful.
Furthermore, I am hoping that the heightened communication skills NVC offers can help us to navigate the new poly waters.
Did I even mention that Simon and I are in the midst of the mono-poly transition?
Whew. Yeah. Last night was a big milestone in that process for me because we actually had the opportunity to discuss poly stuff with someone who has experience--a sweet, mild-mannered Couchsurfer who I plan to hang out with again soon. I hadn't realized how much I needed a sense of community and understanding from a real person who could talk to me live and in the flesh. Online forums are great and all, but they are no substitute for real people, and this guy--we'll call him Michael--is certainly real, and kind, and interested, and generous with his knowledge.
Signing off for now.
Monday, January 24, 2011
In Which Simon Initiates, Carnita Sees a Ghost, and Something's Rotten in the State
As I was leaving my favorite breakfast biscuit joint this morning, Anthony, one of my deliciously gorgeous martial arts instructors, pulled up beside me in the parking lot.
Now, lately this wonderful thing has begun to happen with him. On the one hand, the fact that he always takes at least a moment to make eye contact and greet me in particular whenever I come to the dojang presents a clear message: we are beginning recognize each other as humans over and above the generic culture of the school. (It turns out, however, that it is easy to find yourself unaccountably attracted to people who you train with like that.) The opening of connections between myself and others is a beautiful thing in life that I totally live for, regardless of the circumstance.
On the other hand, I just can't help by being especially charmed and intrigued because of how amazingly attractive this guy is. A broad-shouldered handsome Italian with curly, bronzy-brown hair, a sexy voice, and a body that is beautiful and powerful as a predatory cat. I would be happy to watch him do forms all day.
I can't tell if I am imagining a more doting tone in his glance. Probably not; most women can tell these things, read these looks on men's faces. But it doesn't matter in the slightest, except as fun fantasy material. We are both happily married, and he has a couple of kids. Neither of us would go there. Nevertheless, I can't help indulging the part of me that wonders what the hell he is thinking.
So when Anthony pulled his big black work truck up next to me, I immediately recognized the vehicle and waved. He had seen me too. He got out of the truck abruptly and came to my window.
"Coming or going?" he aks with little crooked half-smile. We're beyond pleasantries, are we?
"Going. I have to go find parking at the college. It's difficult at the beginning of the semester."
"I see." That was almost all, except for his obvious disappointment that we wouldn't be having breakfast together. I wish I could have stayed.
In other adventures, two weeks ago, Simon and I had sex with a woman together for the first time. It was fun for me, but completely unexpected and at a less-than ideal time. I was exhausted and it was at least 3:00 am before this even got started. I was so tired that my memory is a bit fuzzy. I can't remember how my cunt got literally sliced open; there was a little bleeding cut on the inside that hurt and kept me from having sex for days. I can't remember when Simon would have acquired an enormous, dark hickey, either--that's not really my style, so it had to have been Gina. I'm thinking my cut must have come from her fingernails.
In retrospect, the most significant thing about the whole scene was the fact that Simon initiated it without my help or knowledge. I didn't even intuit that any electricity was passing between the two of them until it was already happening. Not only that, but he had a lot of real, hard, intense vaginal intercourse with Gina. (I never had vaginal intercourse with James.) This, coming from the guy who is always saying that he is "naturally monogamous," that he "never knows when girls are hitting on him," and that the goal of experimenting with other people is mostly to connect more with me. Ha! The stories we tell ourselves...
He assures me that this does not mean that the rules have changed, or are on the way to changing, or anything of the sort. = /
The thing that bothered me about the Gina episode after the fact was my realization that if the reverse occurred--if I started making out with another guy when Simon was fairly close by in hopes that we could both get it on with guy #2--then by our current rules, it is highly unlikely that I would get what I wanted out of the situation. In fact, it would likely be so obvious that this is somehow "not the same," meaning that the prospects for group sex with a man actually happening are so low--and everyone knows it!--that Simon might feel offended or jealous because he thinks I must be up to something that is against the rules. Maybe that's not exactly how it would go down, but several other likely alternatives are equally shitty. For example: Guy #2 freaks out when I suggest that we sleep with my husband, thinks horrible things about me/us, and never wants to speak to me/us again. In my opinion and experience, this is a more probable outcome than the three of us actually ending up sleeping together.
Just look at what happened the only time we've been there, with James: he freaked out, couldn't handle what he had done, regretted entangling himself, had anxious doubts about his sexuality, and is now not speaking to us at all. Although he didn't have reservations before it happened and everything was entirely consensual, having sex with us destabilized his (albeit weak) sense of self-identity...and I would really, really prefer for these adventures of ours not to result in our sexual partners feeling worse off the morning after than they were if they had never met us!
On the other hand, Gina and I have hung out amicably since we got naked together, and everything is fine. We talked about that night, and we talked more about completely unrelated topics. I have a feeling that this is more likely to continue to be the case with female group sex partners.
The problem is that I prefer to sleep with men.
I'd like to say more about the social circumstances that create this unequal dynamic. Generally speaking, men who consider themselves to be mostly heterosexual seem to have to cling harder to and more fiercely patrol their sexual identities to feel "right" than women do. Men are less often interested in sharing even a mostly-hetero oriented sexual experience with another man, for fear of the "ick factor" (which is of course just a social construction of heterosexuality and homophobia enforcing itself through them). There are way, way more women who would be game to sleep with a man and a woman at the same time than there are men who would willingly get intimate with both. Of course this circumstance pisses me off. Regardless, it may continue to negatively affect the satisfaction I get out of my sex life for...well, my whole life.
I guess that's a major downer, huh? Am I worrying too much here? Am I setting myself up to manifest problems rather than the sensual delights I want? Perhaps. But I doubt anyone could argue with me about the core issue of how male homophobia affects the probability that "straight" men will consider group sexual interaction alongside another man. Le sigh.
Seeing James didn't help my generally addled mood last week. He is apparently attending classes at the college where I teach. He sat about thirty feet from me across the tutoring lab for over an hour and a half. I walked right by him at least five times, and he would not even so much as look at me. I was furious for a little while after that, and then I was just unspeakably sad for a long while.
As soon as I left the lab, I sent him a very short text message that received the most predictable reply possible:
Me: "Chickenshit."
James: "Who is this???"
Signing off,
Girl Whose Number He Deleted
Now, lately this wonderful thing has begun to happen with him. On the one hand, the fact that he always takes at least a moment to make eye contact and greet me in particular whenever I come to the dojang presents a clear message: we are beginning recognize each other as humans over and above the generic culture of the school. (It turns out, however, that it is easy to find yourself unaccountably attracted to people who you train with like that.) The opening of connections between myself and others is a beautiful thing in life that I totally live for, regardless of the circumstance.
On the other hand, I just can't help by being especially charmed and intrigued because of how amazingly attractive this guy is. A broad-shouldered handsome Italian with curly, bronzy-brown hair, a sexy voice, and a body that is beautiful and powerful as a predatory cat. I would be happy to watch him do forms all day.
I can't tell if I am imagining a more doting tone in his glance. Probably not; most women can tell these things, read these looks on men's faces. But it doesn't matter in the slightest, except as fun fantasy material. We are both happily married, and he has a couple of kids. Neither of us would go there. Nevertheless, I can't help indulging the part of me that wonders what the hell he is thinking.
So when Anthony pulled his big black work truck up next to me, I immediately recognized the vehicle and waved. He had seen me too. He got out of the truck abruptly and came to my window.
"Coming or going?" he aks with little crooked half-smile. We're beyond pleasantries, are we?
"Going. I have to go find parking at the college. It's difficult at the beginning of the semester."
"I see." That was almost all, except for his obvious disappointment that we wouldn't be having breakfast together. I wish I could have stayed.
In other adventures, two weeks ago, Simon and I had sex with a woman together for the first time. It was fun for me, but completely unexpected and at a less-than ideal time. I was exhausted and it was at least 3:00 am before this even got started. I was so tired that my memory is a bit fuzzy. I can't remember how my cunt got literally sliced open; there was a little bleeding cut on the inside that hurt and kept me from having sex for days. I can't remember when Simon would have acquired an enormous, dark hickey, either--that's not really my style, so it had to have been Gina. I'm thinking my cut must have come from her fingernails.
In retrospect, the most significant thing about the whole scene was the fact that Simon initiated it without my help or knowledge. I didn't even intuit that any electricity was passing between the two of them until it was already happening. Not only that, but he had a lot of real, hard, intense vaginal intercourse with Gina. (I never had vaginal intercourse with James.) This, coming from the guy who is always saying that he is "naturally monogamous," that he "never knows when girls are hitting on him," and that the goal of experimenting with other people is mostly to connect more with me. Ha! The stories we tell ourselves...
He assures me that this does not mean that the rules have changed, or are on the way to changing, or anything of the sort. = /
The thing that bothered me about the Gina episode after the fact was my realization that if the reverse occurred--if I started making out with another guy when Simon was fairly close by in hopes that we could both get it on with guy #2--then by our current rules, it is highly unlikely that I would get what I wanted out of the situation. In fact, it would likely be so obvious that this is somehow "not the same," meaning that the prospects for group sex with a man actually happening are so low--and everyone knows it!--that Simon might feel offended or jealous because he thinks I must be up to something that is against the rules. Maybe that's not exactly how it would go down, but several other likely alternatives are equally shitty. For example: Guy #2 freaks out when I suggest that we sleep with my husband, thinks horrible things about me/us, and never wants to speak to me/us again. In my opinion and experience, this is a more probable outcome than the three of us actually ending up sleeping together.
Just look at what happened the only time we've been there, with James: he freaked out, couldn't handle what he had done, regretted entangling himself, had anxious doubts about his sexuality, and is now not speaking to us at all. Although he didn't have reservations before it happened and everything was entirely consensual, having sex with us destabilized his (albeit weak) sense of self-identity...and I would really, really prefer for these adventures of ours not to result in our sexual partners feeling worse off the morning after than they were if they had never met us!
On the other hand, Gina and I have hung out amicably since we got naked together, and everything is fine. We talked about that night, and we talked more about completely unrelated topics. I have a feeling that this is more likely to continue to be the case with female group sex partners.
The problem is that I prefer to sleep with men.
I'd like to say more about the social circumstances that create this unequal dynamic. Generally speaking, men who consider themselves to be mostly heterosexual seem to have to cling harder to and more fiercely patrol their sexual identities to feel "right" than women do. Men are less often interested in sharing even a mostly-hetero oriented sexual experience with another man, for fear of the "ick factor" (which is of course just a social construction of heterosexuality and homophobia enforcing itself through them). There are way, way more women who would be game to sleep with a man and a woman at the same time than there are men who would willingly get intimate with both. Of course this circumstance pisses me off. Regardless, it may continue to negatively affect the satisfaction I get out of my sex life for...well, my whole life.
I guess that's a major downer, huh? Am I worrying too much here? Am I setting myself up to manifest problems rather than the sensual delights I want? Perhaps. But I doubt anyone could argue with me about the core issue of how male homophobia affects the probability that "straight" men will consider group sexual interaction alongside another man. Le sigh.
Seeing James didn't help my generally addled mood last week. He is apparently attending classes at the college where I teach. He sat about thirty feet from me across the tutoring lab for over an hour and a half. I walked right by him at least five times, and he would not even so much as look at me. I was furious for a little while after that, and then I was just unspeakably sad for a long while.
As soon as I left the lab, I sent him a very short text message that received the most predictable reply possible:
Me: "Chickenshit."
James: "Who is this???"
Signing off,
Girl Whose Number He Deleted
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Journal of Scott LaDouche, Entry #1
This summary is not available. Please
click here to view the post.
Introducing Guest Blogger Scott LaDouche!
I am pleased to introduce Scott LaDouche, a blossoming young writer who occasionally indulges his kinky side. With a little luck, I will be able to convince him to continue writing down all his dirty little confessions and sending them along to carnal porridge. The post following this one is the first of what I hope will become a series. Later, if we see more of Mr. LaDouche, you will be able to find his posts by clicking his tag in the navigation sidebar.
Scott and I have known each other since high school, when we briefly dated--very briefly, even for a high school affair. Making out was, for us, an entree to friendship, rather than the other way around. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks, right Scott?
Anyhow, until very recently, we had alternated between little to no contact since he left our home town and joined the Navy. A few weeks ago, I was reminded of his refreshingly raw brand of wit--some might call it a penchant for shocking the faint of heart, a habit of which I am also often accused--by a facebook comment in which he called someone or other a "PC liberal faggot junkie." Somehow this started an exchange that resulted in discovering our common interest in erotica or porn or whatever we're doing here. Scott sent me a manuscript and kindly allowed me to take and lightly edit the bits I wanted to put up on the blog.
So, without further ado, please welcome Mr. Scott LaDouche to carnal porridge.
Scott and I have known each other since high school, when we briefly dated--very briefly, even for a high school affair. Making out was, for us, an entree to friendship, rather than the other way around. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks, right Scott?
Anyhow, until very recently, we had alternated between little to no contact since he left our home town and joined the Navy. A few weeks ago, I was reminded of his refreshingly raw brand of wit--some might call it a penchant for shocking the faint of heart, a habit of which I am also often accused--by a facebook comment in which he called someone or other a "PC liberal faggot junkie." Somehow this started an exchange that resulted in discovering our common interest in erotica or porn or whatever we're doing here. Scott sent me a manuscript and kindly allowed me to take and lightly edit the bits I wanted to put up on the blog.
So, without further ado, please welcome Mr. Scott LaDouche to carnal porridge.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)