I’m also immensely excited and happy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be scared as well, right?

L & I have explored so many things together – in every respect, but I’m focusing on sexuality, here – and the more [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> L is coming to visit tomorrow, and I’m a little scared.

I’m also immensely excited and happy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be scared as well, right?

L & I have explored so many things together – in every respect, but I’m focusing on sexuality, here – and the more we explore, the more I feel as if a certain momentum is building. Also, it seems the further we go, the more likely a D/s aspect is going to come into play. L is in no way or form a submissive, and neither am I with him, not all the time. And in terms of our personalities and our relationship, there isn’t a clear person who is “in charge.” I quite like it that way. Nevertheless, sooner or later, in the bedroom, I’m going to end up bossing him around.

Upon pondering his visit, I find possibilities & imaginings flitting through my mind, hence a sneaking insistence that I can’t not try them now that I know that I can. I mean, presumably. It’s much easier to simply fantasize about things without attempting to enact them. Without becoming a reality, they’re infinitely filmreel pristine perfect. Also, being the one who wants to do nasty things to the other, well, not to state the obvious, but you kind of have to be the one to come up with the plan. I have a good idea of what he likes; of what he wants me to do with him. But even so, I’m preoccupied with silly little grievances like: I don’t have a cane, where can I get a cheap cane? And will that particular one work? I want to bend him over the end of the bed and tie his ankles to the bed’s feet, but my bed is lame and doesn’t have feet, it only has wheels located closer to the center, how will I get around that? And, most importantly: what if he ends up not liking what I’m doing? What if I fuck up?

Being a switch (and yes I’ve finally decided to claim switch) can be really irritating. I know that he wants me to hurt him, that he wants me to control him… That he’s taken audio files of himself jacking off because he wants me to listen to him & know what thinking about me does to him. I know all this. But I still haven’t quite managed to tap into that raw energy that I know is there; to tap into the desire to see him marked up and prone and open and willing to do whatever (within reason) I tell him to. My conflicting desire to have him do those things to me sometimes interferes. See: my last post. He’s not the kind of person to lay there and take whatever I dish out; he reacts, he grabs me, makes me hurt. And instead of fighting, like half of me wants to, I typically give in to what the other half wants, which is… to give in.

The thought “maybe I’m not really dominant” enters my mind, even though I know that that’s just silly. There is no right way to do something… as much as I know that, I’m intuitively inclined to think that there is, and that I’m not fitting it.

Even though I’m worrying about this, I know at the end of everything, I’ll simply listen to me and to him and to what we want; and that even if my plans don’t work out, we’ll have copious amounts of rough sex anyway and it will all be fine and dandy.

Edit: As always, after writing about something that preoccupied me, I find that I’m not thinking about it as much and not even sure why I was so worried about it in the first place. Ah, the therapeutic powers of writing.

Edit again: After the initial psychological nail-biting… exercising my creativity on this is quite… satisfying and amusing. I was envisioning possible things I could do with my room, and with items I could easily get from pharmacies and hardware stores and laying out situations in my head. Weighing what action would cause what effect. It was like composing an outfit or a writing piece, only better.

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Sort of ironic, if you think about it. But the same time, I was relieved. I had been thinking about you and wasn’t sure if I was ready to see you. If I wanted to see you at all. And the blood gave me an [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> During the flight, I started menstruating.

Sort of ironic, if you think about it. But the same time, I was relieved. I had been thinking about you and wasn’t sure if I was ready to see you. If I wanted to see you at all. And the blood gave me an excuse – an excuse to not sleep with you; to not let you touch me. To not jump into anything that I would perhaps not want.

When I met you again, after a 4 month breach, I realized that something had changed. I didn’t burn for you as much. Wait – that doesn’t make much sense. What I’m trying to say is that I’m still in love with you as I ever was and I still yearn to touch you, but I can’t ignore the ebb and flow of life and its irresistible force.

So the truth is? That the reason I feel lukewarm towards you now is not because my love has lessened – it is because it no longer makes sense. It no longer has a place in the real world. And I have to be content to let it flow away.

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New Year’s Eve.

Drinking since 5pm.

Alcohol count: 2 Bailey’s, 1 shot of Tequila, 2 glasses of Chardonnay, 2 Vodka-limes, 1 white russian, 1 champagne, 1 strawberry Daiquiri

—

You stumble into the restroom, tilting on your silver four-inch heels, slamming drunkenly into the wall between the two cubicles. You [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> Press play.

New Year’s Eve.

Drinking since 5pm.

Alcohol count: 2 Bailey’s, 1 shot of Tequila, 2 glasses of Chardonnay, 2 Vodka-limes, 1 white russian, 1 champagne, 1 strawberry Daiquiri

—

You stumble into the restroom, tilting on your silver four-inch heels, slamming drunkenly into the wall between the two cubicles. You push the door closed and manage to lock it, yank your skinny jeans down to your knees, and wedge your fingers into your panties, thrusting.

Forget oysters; forget chocolate. Nothing like alcohol to get you pumping.

—

The key to getting over somebody is finding one reason – any reason, as long as it’s big enough – that it wouldn’t work out between you. Never ever work out.

And so, now, your feelings for them have fizzled and transformed into a fond camaraderie without the bite of love.

It’s only with one person that, no matter how hard you stomp on your feelings with your stiletto shoes, they still manage to bounce back up again.

You tried the same technique with him, only to realize that…

…

…

…

…you couldn’t find anything. Not one thing.

Sometimes unrequited love feels like a squalling infant… it keeps you up at night, distracts you, keeps you from your work and studies and other activities, makes you cry now and again, and you need to take care of it all the damn time, but it also gives you inexplicable delight.

And eventually you learn to just live with it – just  accept that it is there – and just go on with your life as normal.

Instead of feeling angry… right now? I want to go out and dance and revel in my fabulousness and think to myself:

Well. Your fucking loss, bro.

—

The other clubgoers are banging on the door. You’re leaning against the wall, curling your fingers against the wall of your warm dripping pussy and throwing your head back and gasping. And then your orgasm rocks through you and you blink, slowly coming back to life and realizing where you are.

The thrill kind of goes away from sex-in-a-public-bathroom when it’s just sex with yourself.

You calmly pull your pants back up, compose yourself and open the door. You wash your hands with the fragrant club-bathroom-soap.

And then you dive back into the crowd, grab your drink from the nearby table and take a giant sip, and continue twisting your body to the pounding rhythm of the music.

No, I didn’t actually masturbate in a public bathroom. I would, but not while I’m out with my mom and sister.

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I wish I were thin.

There are times when I feel beautiful and desired – and those times are wonderful. They don’t come around very often. (But they used to not occur at all.)

But then there are times when I look at myself and all I notice is that my thighs rub against [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> Sometimes…

I wish I were thin.

There are times when I feel beautiful and desired – and those times are wonderful. They don’t come around very often. (But they used to not occur at all.)

But then there are times when I look at myself and all I notice is that my thighs rub against each other when I walk; that I wear big, nerdy glasses; that I’m small and dumpy; that my belly is bigger than it used to be; that my breasts are still too small. (But if I were no longer curvy, I think I would miss it…)

And for every person who likes me and I like back, there’s a hundred people I like and who are too good for me. They chase the pretty, outgoing, svelte girls. And for every person who likes me and I like back, there’s a hundred people who like me and I don’t feel at all attracted to them. I wish I did – but instead I find them sketchy, unattractive, overbearing, overeager, arrogant…

Sometimes…

I wish I were drop-dead gorgeous.

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Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about a recent comment that Graydancer left me:

Among other things, [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> Note: I’ll be sharing (and sometimes commenting on) blogposts that I think are hot, fascinating, relevant, or awesome here – there’s also a clip on my blog nav under my TwitterFeed ~

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about a recent comment that Graydancer left me:

Among other things, I would say find partners (or let your current partners know) what it is that you need from them – snuggling, connection, whatever. But in a threesome, everybody has a right to be satisfied, whatever that means. It may mean you only want to watch – or it may mean you need a hot double fisting while you’re spanking them and quoting Prospero’s speeches from the Tempest. But let them know, and talk about it afterwards (awkward though that may be) and resolve to do it better next time.

It nicely sums up a very fundamental thing I’ve been doing ‘wrong’ for quite a while that has been causing me a sizable amount of anxiety. Not only in threesomes, but in sex, relationships, and life in general: I don’t express myself enough. To be more specific - I don’t express my wants, needs, concerns or grievances enough.

Sometimes I do it plenty. When I’m drunk, or even a little tipsy, I start spilling confessions like proverbial guts. At times I can be happy-social-drunk, but more often than not I’m angsty-horny-ARGH drunk. I bitch, whine, and moan. I cry. I petulantly knock empty beer bottles over. I kick walls. I get online and start pouring my heart out to my close friends on chat or email. I text hook-up buddies (or potential hook-ups) and hit on them ferociously. (Yes, only via text. I used to actually hit on them but I’ve recently realized that text is way less scary.)

Need a demo? Here’s a couple examples pulled from the last few days:

Wilhelmina [@Atlantean via SMS]: I really want to either suck you off or bite you really hard

Wilhelmina [@Atlantean via SMS]: Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sent that. But it was either that, or break more things. If you want me to leave you alone you should just tell me so and I will.

And another:

Wilhelmina [@Christopher via chat]: i’m just emotional and i’m taking advantage of my own intoxication to tell you these things when it’s against my better judgement

Wilhelmina [@Christopher via chat]:  you’re a beautiful, amazing person. i just love you so much and i keep thinking about you. why do i keep thinking about you?! i don’t know. you’re just one person and you’re not perfect

Wilhelmina [@Christopher via chat]: i don’t understand why i get like this when i drink too much. i either need to get fucked really hard or cry really hard. i really don’t understand it.

…And so it goes on.

I mean, not only is it an annoying and embarassing process for me to go through, but it’s probably even more annoying for the other people involved.

All this time I’ve attributed my outbursts to the fact that I’m overly emotional and can’t be ‘detached’ or ‘unfeeling’ enough. Because it’s not like I only get these feelings when I’m drunk. I have them all the time – I’m just in control of myself enough to not express them.

Often, I don’t even think I ‘should’ be having said feelings at all. I ‘shouldn’t’ be attracted to and hitting on such-and-such person because they probably aren’t attracted to me and my attentions are unwanted. I ‘shouldn’t’ need snuggling and affection from the Emperor and his gf during a threesome, because I’m privileged enough to actually be participating in a threesome with them in the first place and I shouldn’t ask any more from them. I ‘shouldn’t’ be jealous. I ‘shouldn’t’ be in love with whoever because they’re taken/gay/leaving/unavailable/whatever.

Or: I ‘shouldn’t’ want/feel anything because my wants and feelings are not as important as my loved ones’. I ‘shouldn’t’ want/feel anything because my wants and feelings are not as important as anyone’s.

(Inferiority complex? I has it. Self-esteem issues? Got those too. Dependent personality disorder? Well, maybe, but self-diagnoses aren’t really trustworthy, like, at all. Doesn’t help that all the websites I go to contradict each other when they describe it.)

Anyway – Christopher recently said something that made me think I was approaching my ‘overemotion’ in the wrong way:

Christopher: for you, i think [being drunk] is a release of the anger/frustrations that you bottle up on a daily basis, so you go into overdrive to express (and thus expel) the negative emotions

Christopher: 1) human beings are made to have feelings – feelings are built into us for very good reasons. 2) humans naturally have feelings in response to stimuli, external and internal events. 3) just as we intake and exhale air, or intake and digest and expel food, we feel and process emotions. 4) trying to not feel your emotions is about as healthy, in the long run, as holding your breath or plugging your asshole

Christopher: just like there are all sorts of ways for breathing and digestion to go weird, the same can be said for feeling emotions. getting the stimuli for a feeling, a reason for an emotion, and then NOT going through the process of feeling those emotions, is like holding it in, thus it’ll come out in ways that you don’t expect, and in the wrong place

He also went on to tell me how holding in emotions can cause anxiety – which has definately been true in my case, and is probably where all the drunken tears/anger comes from, as well as randomly feeling insecure or panicked for no apparent reason.

This shirt was made for me

I remember back when me and K were doing the we’re-not-dating-but-we-sort-of-are thing, sometimes I’d get very anxious, or feel as if something was wrong.  And I wouldn’t be able to figure out why. Now that I think about it, it was because we were doing something that I didn’t particularly want to do, but I didn’t say anything about it – I just went ahead and did it anyway because he wanted to. Or I was afraid that by disagreeing, I would be doing something ‘wrong’.

See, it wasn’t as if K was even imposing his will on me, or giving me any reason to feel afraid. He wasn’t doing that at all. I just have an unhealthy habit of letting significant others/people close to me completely take me over. It’s like once I’m ‘with’ them, as a significant other or anything else, my wants and needs are automatically subordinate to theirs. (Well, unless they want me to do something that I find so deeply unpleasant that I have to say something; or I trust them and I’m completely sure they won’t abandon me.)

So far, I’ve gotten a lot better about not doing those things… but I still do them.

Now, though, I can see why trying to bottle emotions up can be seriously bad for you – and bad for the friendships and relationships that you’re in. Because it’ll all come out eventually. Sometimes the Actor would be very demanding of me, or do something that really aggravated me, and I’d let it slide… but eventually so much frustration and resentment built up that I would end up yelling at him or fighting with him over something that, really, wasn’t more of a big deal than any of the other small, annoying things he did.

I think that I just need to give myself a voice. I need to let someone know in a civil manner that I don’t agree with something they’re doing instead of yelling about it later. I need to learn how to flirt and indicate interest in people normally instead of being afraid and then getting drunk and hanging all over them.

I am also beginning to understand that having feelings and wants and needs – and needing to express them – is simply human. I’m as entitled to it as everyone else; similarly, having emotions doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me or that I’m somehow different.

I’m just human.

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Note: I’ve decided to give Cute-Tripmate an actual title. So from now on I’ll be referring to him as the Atlantean. Yes, like the underwater city.

So I mentioned a couple of chat-posts that I didn’t end up publishing for various reasons… but today’s post [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> Or: Why this blog is named “Heartbreak Nymphomania”

Note: I’ve decided to give Cute-Tripmate an actual title. So from now on I’ll be referring to him as the Atlantean. Yes, like the underwater city.

So I mentioned a couple of chat-posts that I didn’t end up publishing for various reasons… but today’s post is my chat with S. So, yeah, instead of getting the gossippy/hot chats, you get the rambly, self-reflective one. Ha!

But no, seriously, I feel that what me and S talked about was pretty important. It gave me a lot to think about. Thank goodness for friends who care about me enough that they can give me the reality checks that I so desperately need.

—

S: i worry that you think about sex too much. i worry that you have been caught up in the whole hookup thing. you spend so much time and effort on this that i don’t know how you fit anything else in. i feel like you really need to sit down for a few minutes and think about what you want and what all of this means in terms of your larger life.

Wilhelmina: you’re right, i think about sex a shit ton. probably about half of my thoughts drift to sex. and this really is nothing new at all, you probably just haven’t heard me talk about it as much as i do now. to me, sex isn’t just a nice thing to have now and again, it’s almost like a quota to be filled. and it means many different things to me. it’s a way for me to communicate with and understand another person, and a way to feel wanted and paid attention to and desired. but you’re right, it probably does take up a lot of my time. and just like everything else in life i need to moderate it somehow.

Wilhelmina: maybe what’s different now is that i’m drifting into realms that i’ve never touched before, with the whole queer thing and BDSM thing. and the whole sexblogging thing, too. so i guess that comes with a fair bit of novelty or excitement. and there’s so much to explore, that it probably gives me more to think about.

Wilhelmina: well, okay. i actually think i’ve been thinking about sex a lot less these days. well, besides the whole Scientist gossip thing. the Scientist is a huge slut too if you haven’t noticed. i think he’s even hornier than i am.

S: i know he is, but i think you’re willing to go along with it. people around you do it a lot just for the hookups, and i think you’re starting to buy into that.

Wilhelmina: yeah. lately i’ve been able to do stuff with people i don’t feel anything for. i almost think that hooking up with people and being able to not be emotionally attached to them is a good thing. it makes you so much less vulnerable. i mean, i’ve figured out that having sex with people i’m not attached to isn’t fulfilling, and i don’t like it. but i wish i could. i hate that i have sex with my fwbs, and then fall for them, and i end up being this emotional person who falls for people and then is sad because i can’t be with them. it’s just so stupid. if i could emotionally detach myself it would be nice and uncomplicated.

S: no, people always fall for other people. it just means you have feelings. you’re supposed to be vulnerable to the people you hook up with. otherwise you don’t get anything out of it. why would you want to emotionally detach yourself?

Wilhelmina: well, because bringing emotions into it makes everything messy. it means that i get into a threesome with Christopher and F, and watch them do stuff to each other, and feel depressed. or watch the Emperor’s girlfriend fuck him and then cry after they’ve both fallen asleep. if i hadn’t been in love with either of them i could just go through with the sex, enjoy it, and that would be it.

S: someday you will fall for someone who is single. you want a monogamous relationship with someone, that’s why you feel hurt when you watch Christopher with someone else, or the Emperor and his gf together.

S: you just tell me things like “I feel lonely,” “I worry that no one will ever love me,” “I don’t feel like girlfriend material.” and then, I feel like that drives you to hook up more and more, and it becomes less and less about the emotion involved. and then you feel worse and worse about yourself, and you feel like hookups are all you’re good for and that no one will want you for anything more

S: like i said, i always thought there was a real emotional connection there with your fwbs, and it was way more than just a hookup. and now you need a hookup just to have a hookup, and you look around for acceptable people, like the Atlantean and Tobago-Guy

Wilhelmina: something has changed. i’ve definitely done the casual hookup thing here, and i don’t like it. it feels so empty and pointless and frustrating. i feel like i might have something special with the Atlantean, but every time we hook up, his roommate is involved too and it’s really awkward. and i do need to have someone, because if i don’t i’m sexually frustrated and needy and that’s just pathetic, and i start throwing myself at people. so the solution is to either get over it, or to find someone i can get rid of all my neediness and horniness with.

S: can you be not-needy without having someone? i feel like this goes back to the dependent personality thing that you showed me in sophomore fall. i feel like it might be really healthy for you not to need someone, anyone, to be happy.

Wilhelmina: i think so too. i feel like i don’t need to be in a relationship anymore, which is a good thing. i could be happy with a close, affectionate, physical relationship like i had with the Actor. what i’ve missed so much here is to just have someone to hug and cuddle with and lay in bed with, not even sexually. and maybe i’m trying to find a cheap substitute by hooking up. i know i am, actually. partly why i kept sleeping with the Scientist, way after it stopped meaning anything and i stopped feeling anything, was that i just wanted someone to be close to and lie next to and hug and touch, and the sex was just something that happened to go along with it.

Wilhelmina: all i want is to curl up in somebody’s arms and feel safe and loved and needed and desired. and feel our hearts beating next to each other. and it’s silent but we know what’s going on through each other’s minds because we’re so closely connected

S: i understand completely. i really do. i actually thought something similar to that. i feel like that’s exactly what you’re looking for. and you find anyone to fill that need, which doesn’t necessarily work. it depends on the person you’re hooking up with.

S: i feel like you found what you wanted with Christopher.

Wilhelmina: and the Emperor. we were so on the same wavelength. it was awesome. so i did find it. but both of those relationships were… i don’t know what they were. unqualifiable.

Wilhelmina: i was so disappointed when Tobago-Guy ended up being emotionally distant from me. i wanted us hooking up to lead us to being closer, but that didn’t work out, and it sucked. how do normal people go about getting closeness, then?

S: haha, normal, your favourite word. well, i think a lot of girls are really physically close the same way that you were with the Actor. like girls on my study abroad spoon all the time, they’re always on each other’s laps, hugging, tickling each other nonstop, etc. i feel like you could have that but can’t seem to be able to remove the sexual connotation.

Wilhelmina: i’m so confused by myself. i don’t know what i want. i feel like i need all this affection and stuff that normal people don’t need from their friends. or they need it but they can get it from anybody.

S: not true. i need it too, as do most people.

—

I hate that this appears to be a classic case of the mislead girl who casually hooks up but what she really wants is a cosy monogamous relationship. Which isn’t true, because I don’t want a cosy monogamous relationship, I just want intimacy. I definitely believe that people can be single and do the casual hookup thing and be perfectly happy and healthy, I just… am not one of those people, unfortunately.

I probably will end up doing the casual hookup thing at least a few more times more, just out of curiousity. And I think that I could enjoy casual hookups now and again, but that can’t be all I have. I’ll end up needing more. Having no relationship with somebody outside of hooking up? I couldn’t deal with that for very long.

Just like I told S, I used to wish I could be someone who was emotionally detached. Instead, I’ve mostly been the person who assigned special feelings to sex, while the person I was with probably just saw what was happening as nothing more than another hookup. And I used to wish it could be the other way around. I used to wish that I could be the person who didn’t care.

But now I don’t think that anymore. I imagined a world where everyone was detached and casual, and it wasn’t a very pretty world at all.

So okay, maybe I’m clingy and fall in love too easily and care too much about the people I care about. I’ve complained to the Actor about being ‘too clingy’ many many times, and he always told me he didn’t think it was a problem at all. And maybe he’s right. Maybe people like me need to exist. Maybe that I love too many and too much is really a good thing.

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–

Press Play.

A couple of nights ago my roommate asked me:

How can you emotionally detach yourself enough to have sex like that?

Casual sex, she meant. [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> My lovely readers – thanks very much for your kind comments! They mean a lot – and I’m glad you’re enjoying my writing.

–

Press Play.

A couple of nights ago my roommate asked me:

How can you emotionally detach yourself enough to have sex like that?

Casual sex, she meant. Sex without being in love. The question wasn’t malicious, or judgemental – merely curious. At that moment, I beat around the bush, trying to explain myself but not really giving her a straight answer. I only realized what I really wanted to say later – I couldn’t give her an answer because I didn’t have one.

I have had sex without being in love, but I am not emotionally detached.

I would like to think that after my various sexual exploits, forays, and misadventures, I am emotionally tough enough to use pretty people for my pleasure; to swallow them up, like a seasoned man-eater/lady-killer/etc. The truth is that I’m not; and I can’t. I’ve become more mature, practical and experienced in dealing with sex and love and relationships. I’ve learnt how to get over people; and how to appreciate sex for the many different facets it has to offer, besides a mere expression for being ‘in love’.

Underneath it all, I’m still a burgeoning romantic.

I’m looking for something. I’m not sure what. Not love – not quite that. I have become disillusioned with “love.” Quote-unquote-love, the love of Valentine’s Day and red hearts and chocolates and flowers and poetry and diamond rings and forever. People try to assign this “love” to a particular color; day; words. They try to define it. Give it a box to fit into.

If love exists, it probably can’t be bounded by four simple letters. You would feel it in your blood and gut and goose-pimpled skin. See it in the face of anybody you would see on any ordinary day. Think it, deep in the churning, secret places you go to when you sleep. You would not speak it.

But how would I know?

Maybe I’m looking for this elusive, real love.

No. Maybe I just want to be wanted. Needed. Cared about. Like when a person wraps strong, gentle arms around me for no other reason than to hold me. When a person tangles their limbs with mine and we drift off to sleep. When a person joyfully calls my name. Tells me that they miss me.

No. I’m attracted to people who are bright and shining and confident, among others… Maybe I want to find a way to take some of their explosive vibrance for myself…

No. Maybe I want all of that, and more.

Sex. Our bodies, flesh, skin, writhing against each other. Putting your tongue and parts of you inside my mouth. In me. Trying to pull you inside of me. Exchanging body fluids. Saliva passing from lips to lips as we kiss. My juice on your fingertips. Yours dripping from your cock onto my tongue. Or dripping from your cunt down my chin. Sweat – all over. Blood – sometimes. My tears on your cheek after an intense orgasm.

Orgasm. (The small death.) Mind-numbing pleasure; a screaming release of all the emotions that you can’t give words to. A sweet few seconds of pure oblivion.

So I’ve had sex without being in love but… Is there anything casual about that? Is there any way I could emotionally detach myself from something that’s so emotionally charged?

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