I'm at the end of a random day. I went in to my office for some meetings and ended up there longer than I planned. I came home and did my hair which will get trimmed in the morning and hopefully I can get my nails touched up before my trip on Friday. I upgraded my seats on the way up cause full coach window seat is SUPER not appealing just so we're clear. I'll come home to an empty house and then be on countdown until the major travel plans in July. I'm more excited about that than you can possibly know and not for the reasons that were present when I planned the trip with Mr. Wolf. It was gonna be a week long geek fest with some debauchery tossed in with just a hint of sadistic visitor on tap. The geek fest still may happen. As I'm thinking about things to do I realize how nerdy and shy I really am. I'm pretty sure I could be fucked royally if I was receptive to vacation sex. At the moment, I'm more concerned about not being kidnapped or murdered in my hotel room than I am about having an orgasm with company on a different continent. That's not to say it won't happen but it's not high up on my list of things to do honestly.
I realized something else as I was reading the updates from my friends who went to an event this weekend. Save my one venturing out last year at Black Beat I don't really mix and mingle as much as I used to when I was younger. I know I've mentioned this before but the fearless version of me disappeared into the wilderness a long time ago. I can't say I miss her except in moments like this. She'd be encouraging the young man who was fascinated by her nipples to meet her in the lobby of her hotel after lunch and allow him to give them a twirl. If he was able to moisten her panties she'd give him the blow job to end all blow jobs and make him pant after her when she headed back to her low key life. I started reading a book as I was waiting for the Relay for Life to start and it encouraged just such reckless behavior as just something you should do while you are on vacation in another country because when else would you be able to fuck a local with more than likely no threat of it ever tripping you up at home. I agree in theory but I don't know if the brass balls I used to possess will return when I make my connection in Atlanta or not lol. We shall see.
That would be great for vacation but honestly that voice in me is stifled a lot. Not out of fear of being lonely but because it got me in trouble more often than not. I have been known to decimate a room if I'm in a mood. I can create an erection with a few words just as easily as I can deflate it with one look. And thanks to my exes and their oral machinations which I must have picked up through osmosis I have made every woman I've ever fucked just slightly stupid. But yeah I don't approach them any faster than I approach men. It's not fear or even lack of interest totally. I think it has mostly to do with the lack of immediacy. It's easy to be reckless when what you want is readily available and I can be sated or denied quickly. That slow build that distance provides will make me burn longer but you have to work to maintain that and I have yet to not be disappointed by folks not reading me well enough to stoke the flame at just the right moments. Constant flames just burn up all the air around me so that's not good either. For some reason my Uncle's words when he was barbecuing just popped into my head, "low and slow makes everything tender and juicy." Those words taken totally out of context are probably pretty spot on.
I enjoy a good hard fuck just as much as the next girl. I like to be sore and twisted up and gasping for air and water and a break. I love to be fucked slowly, deeply, to have my body contort around yours because I'm trying to pull you deeper inside of me as you whisper all manner of demented, depraved and disturbing things in my ear. I greatly miss being on top of you rocking my hips slowly with closed eyes and stunned by the intrusion of your fingers toying with my clit. That's literally like one of the best things EVER. Ahh talented exes again. Anyway where was I oh yeah. A good hard fuck gets the job done but a slow, luxurious, mind altering fuck keeps me enraptured with you. Low and slow baby low and slow. But the physicality only works if you are nearby or we can make you nearby often. After that you have to take up residence in my brain if you want to have any shot of making me burn.
Alas, that's the most difficult part of the quieter version of me. When I'm not as boisterous or flirtatious or just exposed it's much harder to figure out what you need to do in order to overwhelm me in that way. In my adult life I can say that five men have managed to accomplish that feat. Like one every five years or so but really there was a huge gap between the second and third and not as much between third and fourth. The fifth well he fell victim to the stoked too high and sputtering out thing. Weird thing about brain residence though. The right approach later on may regain you even momentary entrance into the inner sanctum. No one has been able to stay permanently clearly. The other issue with brain residence as well is I can't tell you how to get there. No one has taken the same path to get there. But they all noticed the right thing about me at the time and used it to out think, out maneuver, outrun whatever my hesitations or limitations or reservations may have been. And instead of being upset or angry about being manipulated, which I could completely feel happening, I lapped it up like a hungry puppy. Had they been serving lust in a doggie dish I would have been on hands and knees gorging myself and moaning into the air each time they fucked me like I was a bitch in heat. I can drag an analogy to death can't I? Moving on.
I can't really afford to be reckless these days. Well at least not reckless all the time the way I could sometimes be in the past. But I would like to be slightly less reserved and responsible. I would like to be inspired to pick up and just let loose in a strange place with strange people who are still my people. I rarely see the men that make me reckless anymore. There's one just bless him and whatever cosmic forces made his birth possible cause fuck his skin makes me weak. He's gorgeous and relentless flirt with everyone so of course I take none of it seriously but really his skin makes me stupid. Now that I think about it the reckless ones all had pretty skin, nice tattoos and would make me convulse I came so many times. They were talkers, experts with double entendre and above all never seemed pressed for my attention. That is not to say they were not pressed for that attention. Raw lust is hard to disguise, the lengths with which they would go to the inside of me were more than telling (like the one that got the speeding ticket coming home because I told him I would be leaving shortly, that was a lovely ego boost I'll admit it lol), and the fact that most of them have shown me that these many moons later I just have to arrive in town and orgasms and good conversations will be on tap. That's the level of reckless I allow myself to have now. It's good when I get it but it's not tinged with the edge that I need. That edge is darker than I thought it was when I was being reckless. When I was fucking a dude who was at least a foot taller than me whose dick felt like a 10 inch long Coke can when it dug into me. Felt fucking amazing and is probably one of the only times I can say I legitimately ran away from dick in bed to no avail lol. I'd have to fuck him in sets of two otherwise my organs would be in the wrong fucking locations when I went home. It was also one of the first few times I had a clear understanding that pain could feel good when I was already feeling good. Add into that my ass became target practice when were in doggie style and the line got good and blurred and I loved it. I think I've mentioned that before but I kept up with that kind of reckless, threesomes and foursomes and moresomes because it was the closest I could get to this thing I need now with the people who weren't quite my people. I have yet to put him back on the ex hit parade. Giving him more permission to hurt me may end up with a bitch being paralyzed and that is not the business.
I still have images of my former brain residents more inviting fantasies and displays of aggression and raw sexuality. They can feed my orgasms when I allow them. It's great when I do, the mixture of voices and depravity. Of lust and cum faces. Of fantasies and humiliation. All so good in their own way. All so disappointing in the light of day. They make me miss that other me that just wants to be free and fuck and be a fantasy fulfillment center the way I used to be. That I still might be with the right person pulling the strings. I don't know where to find her though. I'm not sure if it's safe to bring her out to play anymore even if I could locate her free spirited fuckery. Heck if I'm honest I'd be lightweight overjoyed with just the ability to engage in witty banter free and easy like I used to be. If I'm not that girl anymore and this girl isn't quite where I want to be I need to start thinking about who I want to be become. That may be my next mission. Who knows? I'm thinking too much but I tend to do that sometimes. Oh well, I told you this would be long. If you made it all the way down here and have a question please let me know. I keep thinking I'll offer up an Ask me anything moment but most of you wouldn't have much to ask and that would probably just make me sad lol.