November 27, 2009

Because the only people for me are the mad ones

Sometimes it feels like a disease, some horrible affliction. It is a constant source of stress in my life. Never is it as simple as people make it out to be. Never is it as complex as people make it out to be.

It's a fire. A need. An all consuming desire. Not just for orgasms, but for contact, for the rush. Sex does not satisfy it. Sex sometimes makes it worse. I hate it and revel in it.

It needs no trigger. The question I receive most is, "what turned you on?" Does it need a catalyst?

I ache now. Nothing precipitated it. I ate dinner, I went to a movie, I listened to music, and now I want to consecrate the kitchen counter and the couch. Visions of threesomes dance in my head. I itch to take a tight little nipple into my mouth. I ache to feel a caress in return. Today, I hate it. My skin burns a living, breathing, crawling fire and, oh, how good it would feel to have someone's mouth quenching that flame.

It is not enough to have just someone "fix" me either. A cold orgasm is akin to starvation. This ardor needs to meet its match, needs a mate. Give me someone who burns the way I burn. Give me someone that drowns in it as I do. I need that intensity. Anything less is just far too paltry. I am starving.

November 25, 2009


A about the dream home, or the glorious list of turn ons? Dream home wins out tonight, as tonight I'm making a friend's house my home. Turn ons will come later, look for it.

I love houses that are open and airy. I want open ceilings dotted with skylights. The house I am currently occupying is filled with rooms adorn with wooden and glass doors (kinda like these cabinet doors).

There are so many windows, most without drapery of any kind. The floors are hardwood. Internal doors all have skeleton key style keyholes. Beautiful.

In my bedroom, you'd find framed photographs by Igor Amelkovich. Specifically this one, and this. I would need a third though. Really though, I would probably have several 3 photograph sets.

No house is complete without built in bookshelves, just like these. They make my heart flutter.

In my backyard garden, you'd find lavender and roses. Also, Lilies, dahlias and hyacinth planted outside of my sunroom. Yes, the sunroom. This house has one, but it does not appear to be in use. I would use mine constantly, lounging, reading, playing with the cats, whatever.

Also, off of my front porch you'd find birds. You'd find bushes specifically planted to attract the birds and butterflies, plus feeders scattered throughout.

I have so many images for the home I hope to one day build. Maybe time will see it come to fruition.

November 23, 2009


This picture embodies so much of what I find sexy. These people are uninhibited. These people are caught up in lust in a way that removes higher level reasoning. I adore Gasp for the same reasons. The poem speaks of an all consuming desire to explore another person. Both the photo and the poem tug at my yearning for that kind of meld. Nothing is more satisfying.

image via erotiterrorist

November 22, 2009


As I am new to blogging, I struggle (it's a love struggle!) daily with trying to come up with something original. Many days, I photoblog, or post vids. The photos and videos are always something that brought me happiness for the day. Some days I write really angsty blogs that I never post because, really, no one should ever read them. Some days, I actually write a blog.

I try to avoid endlessly re-posting cool things other people find, mostly because the people I read all read each other.
However, I haven't been online is several days, and there's a lot of porn piling up on the internet...

This is a collection of things that titillated my senses this evening. Enjoy, loves:

The first, a scathingly brilliant review of New Moon. I'm not hating on the Twilight series. I'm actually rather apathetic about the whole mess. I love the beautiful mix of intellect and coarseness present in this writing though. Amazing.

Next, a glorious play on gender coupled with a dance-inducing song...
(Note: I did have a video embedded here, but it was recently made unavailable. The video was Prodigy's uncensored Smack My Bitch Up. I will work on finding it elsewhere for you).

Then, an interesting tidbit via erotiterrorist. Oh, powerplay.

Surprise! A very interesting composition by a good friend of mine. I delight in his oddity.

Followed by some amazing tweets by some amazing people:

sroxy:Actually, godless heathen is a misnomer. If anything I have way more gods than most of the Christians... I think this makes me a godlier heathen, hmmm?

aagblog: I love men. That is all.
Followed by: Facebook, stop being cunty.

chelseagsummers: A week of non-stop illness will make a girl feel steeped in patheticism. It's my pity-party, and I'll cry in my sorbet if I want to.

Also, a status from facebook: Finally got my books out of "storage" (the garage). Etiquette dictates that you should place Palahniuk next to Frost, right?

Finally, Judy Garland doing George Gershwin...

November 20, 2009

This honesty could be my demise

Zooey Deschanel

via canihelpyousir

The song is so catchy, and Zooey's voice is lovely. I understand why Zooey made canihelpyousir's Swoon List.

November 19, 2009


She asked me, "You aren't going to write another blog about this, are you?" I don't remember my reply.

She is so small. I loved the curve of her back when she reached to adjust the thermostat. I loved the pressure she put on my hand while it was around her throat. I love that she wanted to be fucked. I love the scratches she left on me. I hate that she seemed repulsed by my sweat. I hate that she seemed impatient with me. I hate that she was so pissy when she woke.

She was so incredibly bitchy when she woke up around 6:30. "Are you awake?" she asks. When I say yes, she says, "of course you are."

I try to be bitchy right back, but end up running to get her water, get her some Tylenol, find her clothes. Anything to make her happy.

The bitchiness abates when she realizes Waffle House exists. I find this endearing.

Tell me, why do I do it?

Ghosts of contests past

I won! Back in the day (October!), but I still won, nonetheless.

I entered a contest featured through aag, sponsored by Original Sin Hard Cider.

I strongly recommend checking out their posters. They are sexy, gorgeous, delicious little bits of life.

I won a comfy tee shirt, and got to pick two pretty posters as well.


Now, no more contest talk.

Contest with an Njoy prize

So....Edenfantasys is running a contest through EdenCafe. Check out the rules here.

The contest runs until Nov. 21st luvvies, so get crackin'.

Not only will an entry for this contest potentially win you one of these, (or one of these, or one of these...) it will also automatically get you one of these gorgeous little things:


Cool huh?

November 18, 2009


You know that feeling? Yes, you do.

That feeling when you are comfortably curled up on the couch, warm, wrapped in a blanket, laptop firmly on lap, piles of papers stacked around you...

The feeling when you realize that the music coming out of your laptop is annoying the piss out of you, and that you must, just must, change it from computer output to TV output...but to do that you need the remote.

The remote, by the way, is on the coffee table, very much out of reach.

You attempt, very carefully, to become stretch armstrong, while all those precariously balanced stacks of papers, the laptop, even the blanket, all slowly inch toward the floor...

Yeah, you know what happened right?

Mostly, I just fell off the couch. I got the remote though, damn it.

Sock Dreams

Le sigh...

via Sock Dreams

November 17, 2009

This war I fight, I can no more

My skin is on fire. My heart is pounding, my breath short. She caused this.

She yielded softly to my kisses. She yielded and it seemed as if she had no interest. She does not raise her hands to my sides, does not pull my head to her. She passively accepts my lips. I keep kissing, desperate for a response, desperate to drive some desire into her. I ask, "What must I do for you to engage?" She breathes, "Engage?"

I brush her nipples through both layers of her cotton t-shirt. She arches, almost imperceptibly. Engaged.
I let my hand graze her side, push up her shirt, finally, finally brush her skin. Her heat amazes me. It's a dream.

I push her shirts up over her head, almost roughly. She grumbles a bit. I push up her bra. I can barely see her in the dark, though I know she prefers it that way. I can see she's soft. Her breasts are beautifully round, her nipples erect. I can't not have them in my mouth. I touch a nipple with my tongue, and she arches deeply. She writhes. She pushes her breasts at me, wanting more contact. I take as much of her into my mouth as my mouth will hold, more even. Heaven.

I want more of her. I brush kisses down her stomach, grazing her tattoos. Those tattoos....oh. I no longer just want her, I need her. Must taste her, must please her. Please?

"No," she says. "No," crushes me. I push kisses past the line of her pants...just a little. Crossing no boundaries. I kiss those gorgeous hips, I breathe in her heady scent. "No," she tells me.

I bite, just a soft bite, at her through her pants. I pray for the cloth to just dissolve, melt away. It will not. She said no.

I surface to kiss her. Again, she yields. I place my hand where my mouth was, pushing, rubbing, trying to please her. Still no permission.

I lay between her legs, kissing that yielding mouth. She and I have the same thought. She rolls me under as I roll her over me to straddle. Seamless. I cannot keep my hands off of her skin. So hot.

She's kissing me back. I grab her hips, push them against me. I am desperate to please her. I want to hear her orgasm. She rocks with my motions. She devours my mouth, her hands pulling at my hair, caressing my face. I feel her hand slide to my neck. She gently squeezes. She tests me, tightening a little. My head is thrown back, awaiting her administrations. Those kisses, the rocking, the caresses. I swoon. She is practically holding me up, against her.

We kiss, and it is over. I cannot please her tonight. My skin is on fire. I ache for her. We go to lay down. I fear that she will move away if I reach for her. She moves close, allows contact. She feels guilty, as do I for putting her in this position.

The guilt does not stop me from wanting more though.


Oh, Betty.

Oh, Betty. *Breathy sigh...*

Look, The vid is a little dark, and the speaking parts are in French...but it still rocks my world. Oh, and ya'll know it's from The L Word, riiight?

November 16, 2009


She appears to impish. She has a look that makes me want to place a kiss on her nose...

via heroines

November 13, 2009

So soon

I don't know what causes it, the deep welling of emotion from seemingly nowhere. This time, this blog provoked it.
Maybe the sadness in the words, "I don't know why we came together like this only to part so soon," provoked it.

The moments are strange. I break into deep sobs, but shed few tears, and they pass in just moments. They are melancholy epiphanies.

I sent her a text a moment ago, asking when I could see her. It was a bad move. Reaching out to her is bad idea.
She isn't available in any way, and grasping for her and receiving nothing just causes more pain.

Texts are our only form of communication, although communication is not an accurate word for what occurs. Lately, she does not answer my texts. She answers when she needs to talk, needs a ride, needs someone to ease her loneliness. I enjoy giving her whatever she wants to take, but she is taking the wrong things.


via erotiterrorist

Fell in love with a girl

but sometimes these feelings can be so misleading

November 11, 2009


One goal of this blog is to share my loves, the little tidbits of happy that make my day. Here is one.

via Muffy Crosswire


via Najy

November 10, 2009


People are supposed to fuck. It is our main purpose in life, and all those other activities—playing the trumpet, vacuuming carpets, reading mystery novels, eating chocolate mousse—are just ways of passing the time until you can fuck again.

— Cynthia Heimel

via aag

(see also:hates)

New loves:

Syd Blakovich and Jiz Lee
Lady Gaga (see also: hates)
B (see also: hates)
Amanda Blank
Tina (see also: old loves)
First times
Chelsea G Summers
Pop music (see also: hates)


Ladies and gents, the incomparable Syd Blakovich...

November 2, 2009