sexual frustration « Heartbreak Nymphomania

22Apr/107

Pet (HNT)

It's only been about a month since me and J broke up, and already I'm back up to my old tricks.

A few days ago, I was venting to an online friend (who I will refer to from now as the Inventor) about the breakup. He consoled me, and after a while the conversation somehow segued to the topic of BDSM.

He asked if I wanted to submit to him.

I said yes.

For the past few days, he has given me numerous tasks to do. Some highlights: go without underwear for the entire day, expose myself and take a picture (he gave me permission to post it ^ ), & wear a plug for at least an hour.

He requests that I call him Sir, and wear my amethyst & silver bracelet (the one I used last time I was subbing for someone) when serving him. He let me choose my own title. I find most submissive titles somewhat obnoxious. I couldn't really settle on one I loved, but I went with one that sounded less obnoxious than the others - pet. The more he addresses me with it, the more I grow to like it.

He knows I'm inexperienced, and so is doing his best to build me up without causing me (too much) discomfort. So far, I've given up quite a lot of control to him already. I cannot touch myself or orgasm without his permission (excluding sex with other people), and starting from tomorrow he will be picking out clothes for me. (I sent him a list of most of the clothes and shoes I own. God, that was a long list.) Interestingly, I think the clothing rule will be more difficult than the orgasm rule, because clothes are such a big part of my self-expression. But, then, that's also part of the reason why I like that rule so much. Having someone control my behavior, even though it may be in seemingly inconsequential terms, is such an exciting act to me.

He also wants to make a point to get me to get over my aversion to verbalizing my thoughts and wants. If I'm IMing with someone, or writing, the dirty talk will just come pouring out - I've even started narrating sex in my head sometimes - but when it comes to saying it out loud, I freeze up. He knows this about me. He also wants to get me to be more comfortable with "performing" on cam for him. (And he knows me well enough to explicitly forbid any form of "liquid courage" while I'm camming with him. Damn.)

Yesterday, we were camming and he was telling me how hard he was at the thought of fucking me. Seeing his face and being able to put his facial expression to the words was exciting enough - I mostly just IM with him, and have spoken to him on the phone a couple of times, but never cam with him. Then he panned the camera down to show me the unmistakable bulge in his jeans. I bit down on my lip; on the tips of my fingers.

He said I might get to see more if I did something else for him. He wanted me to say, out loud, how much I wanted to fuck him. And to call him Sir. Nicely.

Part of me hates calling people "Sir" out loud. The word just sounds out of place; like I shouldn't be using it.

But I did it. I fumbled around awkwardly in my seat for a minute, and then I did it.

He rewarded me by letting me watch him take his cock out and stroke himself, slowly. I stared. I wanted so much to take him in my mouth...

After I got over some of the initial nervousness and shyness, I began wondering how I could make things even more interesting. Like a child with a new schoolteacher, I started thinking about loopholes, margins that I could play with. D/s is interesting because it's basically mutual manipulation, except both parties know exactly what's going on. I wouldn't want to do enough to anger or disrespect him, but I'm curious about what a little struggle could do.

I got an answer today. Last night, I got drunk at Zeta Mu and couldn't find this one person I'd been looking to hook up with (again). I went to bed drunk and sexually frustrated, and ended up putting my hands into my boxers and touching myself for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep.

I confessed this to him today, while I was at work, actually. He told me to find a private place, expose my ass, and spank myself hard enough to leave a red mark. I very self-consciously went to the restroom and did so. I knew that my hand would not be enough, so I ended up using a letter opener. Talk about creative use of office supplies.

I came back to my desk feeling embarrassed and obedient, with the sting of the letter opener slowly fading away as I sat.

I've been brought to such a heightened state of sexual tension that it feels like my entire body is thrumming. I think about fucking him while I'm at work, and while I'm doing my daily errands. I picture him taking me bent over desks, surreptitiously in darkened hallways, and on sumptuous bedsheets. I picture him biting me, fucking me hard and kissing the breath out of me until I'm too spent to move or speak after he's done.

Naturally, I hadn't done anything sexual for about a week beforehand. He has only granted me one orgasm so far, so I savored it. I made myself come like I hadn't in a long time: only with my fingers, slowly circling my clit and exploring my folds, while imagining him throwing me over his lap, spanking me and making me whimper, before brushing his fingers, oh so softly, over my wetness.

He has wonderfully large hands. I know that much.

This is re-opening parts of me that had been temporarily closed off. I'm writing erotica again; feeling my sexual energy again. I didn't realize what a big part of my sexuality kink was. I don't need it all the time, but it was definitely difficult being with a purely vanilla partner. I love vanilla sex as much as anyone, but so often my mind would naturally edge towards biting, scratching, slapping, serving and kneeling. Not being able to express my sexuality that way made me kind of boring.

I'm grateful for what he has done for/with me so far. And I'm looking forward for what is to come.

hhnt~

Filed under: BDSM, Erotica, HNT, anal play, bottom/object, cybersex, journal, long distance, sexual frustration, the Inventor, wanking 7 Comments

8Feb/096

Skin

Sometimes sex is just an excuse.

Sometimes I see you and wish very hard that I could publicly hold your hand, kiss you on the cheek, just touch you when I feel like it. Simple, childish things. Except that I can't because you either don't want me to, you're not that kind of person, or it would be inappropriate...

Sometimes sex is less about the orgasm and more about the feeling of skin touching skin. About the sitting and talking that goes on beforehand, pressing and turning over each other's hands, feeling the shape and texture. You taking my feet and gently rubbing them. Laying naked in bed together. Being able to press my nose into your neck and take in your smell.

S was trying to describe the type of person I'm attracted to last night, and I said that one commonality between my lovers is that they all smell really good. (Though that's probably just a bias.) Different, but good. Whether indescribably tart and fresh (the Actor), of earth and hemp and strangely-attractively-unwashed (K), of leather and clean laundry and comfort (Christopher) or deep sultry musk and sweat (the Emperor).

And after sex - the talking, the exploratory things that only get said after you've explored each other's physical bodies.

Sometimes sex, penetration, arousal is just a byproduct of intimacy.

---

I was out with Christopher and F again last night. It was a jazz-themed party with a live band and we needed to dress up to get in. Should have been a good night, but something was strangely off the entire time... I felt a little anxious, a little vulnerable. It was a combination of lots of people I didn't know, plus (I didn't realize it at the time) the continuous swarm of beautiful girls surrounding Christopher, much like lots of pretty, graceful moths to a flame (cliche, I know).

I really have to do something about this irrational possessiveness - possessiveness I have no right to feel in the first place. I think it would have been better if I was getting rampantly hit on as well, which I wasn't... The Scientist, who has been haphazardly trying to get into my pants since I came back, was there but chatting up this pretty blond girl instead, and Roommate was there too but was being crass and annoying. When we eventually moved to Zeta Mu, the president, who I strangely have a crush on, was there and kept glancing at me, which was slightly gratifying.

I almost miss all the ego-stroking I got in the Caribbean, where I'm #1 considered very attractive and #2 the guys are forward enough to approach you very directly. The guys here aren't comfortable with doing that, I think, unless they're drunk and at a frat dance party.

Of course, if I actually knew how to flirt with people I wouldn't have this problem in the first place.

I came back home and masturbated before I went to sleep - but coming felt oddly empty, oddly pointless, oddly mechanical. As if I were an automata made flesh.

---

I woke up this morning lonely, depressed and discouraged by the large amount of work I knew was waiting for me. Luckily F instantly dispelled that by shiftily opening my door, and then climbing into my bed when she realized I was awake. We cuddled; bitched about romance and life.

F: I'm tempted to go out and bring a random guy home, but it would be really awkward, and I wouldn't be able to spoon with him afterwards because we wouldn't know each other

Wilhelmina: Yeah, it's basically just [miming whacking a guy off, miming thrusting, shrug]. There's no point to it really.

Since F is newly-single, we've both been considering people, exchanging notes, playfully discussing sandwiching someone together, cruising for people online. Well, rather she's been cruising for people on OkCupid and craigslist and I've been getting cruised on fetlife. I've actually met a couple people there who I find very interesting, we've exchanged quite a few emails, but they live several hours away from me. Curse my town for being so tiny and isolated...

I do have a number of people here who I have crushes on, but my "list" is getting shorter and shorter as I weed people out due to lack of chemistry, unavailability, etc, and it's not getting any longer.

The upside is that the Emperor and his gf (I think?) are visiting in a few days (!), which I've announced incessantly to any of my friends who will listen. Me and the Emperor have been emailing regularly again, exchanging news and fears and him cockily teasing me now and again. I'm really happy and excited that they're coming

I feel as if I should... do something with my single status. Right now I'm at peace with it, but I'm not taking advantage of it, of my freedom, to do anything. I should be socializing more, meeting more people, having fun and being playful and flirtatious. Instead I'm defaulting to burying myself in my work, only hanging out with my close friends, and being grumpy.

Right now I'm stuck. I'm stuck in remnants of feelings and connections, I'm stuck in memories of past loves. And I need to move past that.

I have to start pushing my boundaries a bit more.

---

I've been a little dissatisfied with the quality of my and Christopher's friendship lately... sex aside, I felt like we were more connected when I was in the Caribbean and he was here but we talked on Gtalk fairly frequently. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that he's busier this term, and he lives off-campus now so isn't around very much. So we're not seeing as much of each other as I would like.

My instinctive reaction to this kind of thing is to be insecure, to test him, to want him to actually make an effort to see me, which is silly. I could easily just ask him to hang out but I don't - I don't want to look vulnerable or like I'm hounding him too much. Which is also silly.

---

After idling in bed and talking for a while, F came out with me to pick up some food I had ordered in town. We randomly dressed up in punk/lacy gear, walked along holding hands and talking loudly about inappropriate things and she sang snatches of songs from "Cabaret."

I'm so glad F is around. Without F honestly sometimes I think I'd go completely nuts.

Filed under: Christopher, F, intimacy, jealousy, reflections, sexual frustration 6 Comments

30Sep/084

A Love-letter to No-one

Right now, I have a beer and three cups of Hypnotic inside me (a quality mixture of vodka, cognac, and fruit punch, according to the bottle) and I am able to be honest.

My loves - I miss you. Very, very much. I miss the way you moan and cry out; I miss the way your skin and genitalia taste inside of my mouth. I miss the way it feels like we were moulded out of the same clay - the way we resonate with each other. Maybe that's just an isolated feeling - maybe I'm the only one who feels like that - but no matter. I feel as if I can communicate with you without words, and that's something. That, my dears, is worth mentioning. Worth valuing.

I see the photographs of you with your significant others. I see your Facebook status updates about them. I see how integral they are to your lives. And it's okay. I don't care. I can't care. Because I? I love you - all of you. So deeply. So much. Tonight - I was talking to a friend here, explaining how I would do just about anything for somebody I am close to. And it's true.

Perhaps this is a dangerous statement, but - you define me. You make me.

Because what use is a world in which you have nobody whom you find worth dying for? Worth living for?

To the Emperor: I have been emailing with K and he speaks of his ex-who-he-still-loves in the most poetic of terms: he describes her as a tornado; as a maple tree. I would describe you as a brightly-shining-sun. When I spent time with you, I described it to others as 'basking in your prescence.' And it's true. Being around you is like witnessing a great ball of destructive and creative energy; witnessing a force that can move mountains. I wish I could be there with you right now, before you leave for good and live the fabulous life that you deserve. I wish we could have had more time. I keep thinking that maybe you would have let me in; you would have loved me as much as you loved her - your girlfriend. But I've wished for the same thing before and it came to nothing.

If I was at College right now - you know what I would have done to you? I would have found the best way to tie you up and render you immobile; I would have found the best places on your body to strike. The places that would make you scream ecstatically. I would have taken you to a place inside of your mind where you felt the most vulnerable; the most safe; the most cradled; the most possessed.

I still dream of coming back and finding that you're still there. I dream of finding you and your wine-rich lips and dizzying kisses. Maybe one day I will find you - somewhere unexpected.

To Christopher: I want you. Which is the beginning and end of it all, really. I want your cock and your mouth and your ass and your cries and your ridiculousness. I'm so grateful for the way you listen to me and tolerate me and let me crawl into you and feel safe and protected. I'm grateful for the way you let me push you.

To the Actor: I dream about you. I dreamt about you last night. I dreamt we were both still at College, and rolling around in bed and cuddling and talking about everything under the sun as we always do.

You were my friend, my sibling, my lover, and my child. You displaced me. Threw me completely off-kilter. And I appreciate that. I hope I see you again, and soon.

---

I've yet to spend quality time with somebody here who does not want to get into my pants in some way. It's annoying. And the people I am attracted to? Completely unavailable, as usual. Basil is extremely elusive and such a clit-tease. So arrogant and condescending - which is partly why I have such a huge crush on him.

What an idiot...

I want to taste his mouth; pull onto his dreads so his head snaps back and I can taste his neck. I want to feel his wiry body against me. Most of all - I want to make him gasp. I want to render him speechless. I want to make him completely devoid of smarmy comments. And I want to tease him until he begs me to let him come.

Filed under: Christopher, K, drunk, long distance, love, reflections, sexual frustration, the Actor, the Emperor 4 Comments

20Sep/080

Steaminess via SMS

So here's a little overview of what's been going on with me and Basil over the last few days.

He was one of the first people I met here - slash, he was one of the first people to approach and say hello to me. (This was when I was luggage-less and frumpy-looking, as well!) Instant sizzles on my end.

I've talked and danced with him a couple times since then. A couple of nights ago, him and his friend were roaming around socializing, and they ended up in my room - both flirting with me with varying levels of overtness.

After they leave, his friend immediately texts me, asking what I was doing the next day. (We had all exchanged cell phone numbers.) That prompts me, in turn, to text Basil.

[Me: So, did you just come over so your friend could flirt with me?
[Him: Actually it had nothing to do with him. He was just a catalyst for me... I realize I've been keeping to myself a lot this term. Why, are you okay?

...Okay, so my attempt at teasing sarcasm epic-failed. Wonderful.

[Me: Lol, yes I'm fine, I was just teasing. It was fine that you came by. Socializing is always good.
[Him: Glad to hear that! So... who were you trying to flirt with?
[Me: *obviously dodging the question* I consistently find myself unable to flirt. (truth) It's kind of annoying
[Him: Lol. You have a monotonous voice - making you hard to read. You look more interested than you sound. Takes long to realize. You're sexy though.
[Me: *trying to ignore the 'though'* Likewise, I must say.
[Him: Are you flirting with me, madam? Starting to get thoughts...
[Me: Thoughts huh
[Him: Yeah. Not sure if I should voice those yet. Very suggestive. What do you think?
[Me: Hmm, maybe. Up to you.
[Him: I'll tell you in person. I want to see you blush

We hung out the next night - no, nothing happened, and no, he didn't tell me, but we talked for a good couple of hours, and it was nice. When we see each other while we're talking in a group, both of us seem nonchalant, but when we talk to each other there's this air of... playfulness; anticipation, almost. Tonight, when he offered me a drink, I simply put my cup in his hand and got him to serve me.

Maybe I am getting a hang of this flirting thing, though I still think I am very awkward at it.

Basil isn't being particularly pushy, or eager, and that's partly why I find him so attractive. He isn't treating me like most guys here are. Case of wanting what you can't have? Nah - "I want to bang you"; "Likewise" isn't exactly that. But I don't feel like I'm being smothered; I don't think he's after only 'one thing.' If anything, I'm the one being overly eager, but I hope not.

He's a disarmingly charming man, I have to say. Apparently a lot of the other exchange students like him as well. (Why do I always jump on these guy-bandwagons?)

Filed under: Erotica, journal, sexual frustration No Comments

9Sep/080

“Find a way to bring up nudity. Meet at location.”

I fwded this email-conversation to Zeta Mu's mailing list:

[Me:
what's also scary is that i think i've brought my
alcoholism (?) and nicotine addiction (damnit!) here with me.
what's ALSO scary is that it's only been a few days and i'm
already trying to determine whether or not i'd like to fuck
one of my tripmates, and how i can best go about it.
sigh. what have i turned into?!

[Him:
A Zeta Mu?

(Yeah, I'm way fulfilling the stereotype =p)

And I got these replies:

[The Emperor:
always.
do it

[K:
do it
1.) have a conversation
2.) find a way to bring up nudity
3.) meet at location

Aw, my sweet summer-lovers are so supportive ~

Filed under: K, Uncategorized, frat life, sexual frustration, the Actor, the Emperor No Comments

5Sep/083

The Toothbrush

I think I'm starting to go crazy.

Me and "Jesus-of-Nazareth" and another tripmate and this Canadian girl from across the hall all went out together tonight to this random on-campus bar. It was pretty fun. I was fairly sure Miss Canada really disliked me. And her and Jesus-of-Nazareth were getting on really well. It's ironic, really - she had initially tripped my gaydar really hard and I thought she was pretty cute - but turns out she's liberal, but straight. Oh well.

Anyway - I get a good couple of beers and rum-and-cokes in me (for under $5!) and me and Miss Canada actually have a good conversation. And... I thought that Jesus-of-Nazareth would be 'the' tripmate that I would get on the best with, but that Miss Canada was 'stealing' him from me (I know... how juvenile) and I almost wanted to yell at them to hurry up and get a room already. But by the time we got back, Jesus-of-Nazareth was witty-bantering with me and pretending to fight me and I felt a really good vibe between us. Maybe eventually I'll get him between the sheets... or rather in the shower/janitor's closet, since this entire dorm is made up of one-room doubles (boooooo!).

(Which means my sweet room-mate can also barge in when I'm in the middle of writing this... ugh.)

We chill in his room for a while, and he takes a shower while we're there. I get to see him in a towel - and then in his boxers, which don't really do much to hide anything. (Seriously. Most of the male members of this trip either walk around the dorm topless or walk around in their boxers. Which let you see the shapes of everything they've got. I don't understand why they do it.) Me and Miss Canada head upstairs to the second floor, because she wants to heat up one of my instant noodle packets, but he stays in his room and says he'll come up if he feels like it.

He doesn't come up. And so my chance at seduction vanishes. And I'm so sexually frustrated that I feel like either getting in a fight and punching someone; or finding something long and hard to put inside me a.s.a.p. (I start seriously regretting leaving behind that dildo that me and the Actor had picked out and bought together. It was a Leo model from Babeland.com. I can't link directly to the page because - obviously! - it's censored.) The moans and words of my summer lovers start repeating in my mind and... yep, I must be going crazy.

My roommate is chatting in her friend's room so I dodge into our room, lock the door and promptly look up this juicy find; courtesy of Sexuality Happens. My room, at first, proves devoid of Long Hard Objects - but after a little thought I pick up my old, discarded toothbrush and use the non-brush side of that. (It worked surprisingly well. I thought it would be too thin but it wasn't. It was a Colgate, if you're curious.)

I don't know. There's just something about spanking that's able to get me wet without me having to do anything to myself. It's something I've wanted someone to try on me - and that I've wanted to try on somebody else - for a really really long time. So after reading the Amazon.com reader excerpt, the toothbrush-handle slides into me slick and easy and I came within a matter of minutes. When I pull the handle out of me it's coated thickly in a whiteness that almost looks like toothpaste. Almost.

I wash off the toothbrush, keep it for future use (!) and unlock the door. My roommate returns soon after and I make pleasant conversation with her.

This is getting to be a problem... I need to sort it out, and quickly.

Filed under: drunk, reflections, sexual frustration, wanking 3 Comments

4Sep/080

Hunting in the West Indies

I was chatting online this evening, and what I was telling all the friends I saw online was - I just need to find that one person in my dorm building who's absolutely insane. Off-kilter. Eccentric. Something else.

I don't really mean insane - I just mean somebody who's sufficiently bizarre that the majority of people who meet them don't really know how to deal with them. Are either intimidated or confused. And in the end, just shrug their shoulders and leave them to their lives.

If I find that person, I'll have both a close friend and a sex partner, because for me the two things often go hand in hand.

I haven't found that person yet. I'm at that weird starting-point where I'm not attracted to anybody - but I'm attracted to everybody. I don't know anybody well enough to actually gauge whether or not I'd want to fuck them. I may have been with my fair share of people, but I've yet to sleep with someone randomly, and I'm not planning to start now. Like I said at Zeta Mu's initiation night (Jesus - that drunken, substance-filled night): I'm a slut with standards.

However, I seem to have been noticed by some people (which is a bit of a welcome ego-boost). Just tonight, I was attempting to be social by hanging out with a bunch of hallmates downstairs, when this guy I had met a few days earlier struck up conversation. After a while he suggests that we "take a walk" because it's "too noisy." We have a nice little chat, circle around the dorm and end up back with the group of people we were talking to initially. I go back upstairs for a while, saying I'd come back down. I come back down again but leave soon after, deciding I'm not up for idle chatter after all. A little later, someone knocks on my door and it's him, "checking up on me" since he noticed I left so quickly.

Hmm. I can't decide if I'm being sketched on or not.

Anyway - I have noticed some people who show some promise. The stoic, athletic blond senior from Barbados; the charming, black, dreadlocked guy with the British accent; my American tripmate who is tall and lanky (one of my preferred 'types' of men) and bearded, who my roommate calls "Jesus of Nazareth" (hilarious, but true!).

And the girls! Don't get me started on the girls. They're all so cute. But nothing's going to happen there because - I didn't know this when I applied for this trip - in this country, being homosexual is illegal. Homosexual people aren't even supposed to enter the country, although I wouldn't be able to guess at how they would test for it. A good deal of the population is also Catholic. According to Wikitravel, it's "relatively safe" for gay people here - and I stumbled upon a local gay social website. And I do know of places (i.e. Singapore) where being gay is made illegal by the government, but the citizens don't actually give a shit. So we'll just have to see.

A bunch of us were hanging out and talking last night - both fellow exchange students, and local university students. Most of us were newcomers. A senior was there and we were asking her lots of questions. The topic of clubs came up - and for some reason somebody asked about gay bars.

[Her: Why would you want to go to one of those? Well, I don't know of any, but if you go in and a guy starts trying to come on to you, you can probably guess...! And then try to leave as soon as possible!
[Random guy: Unless you swing that way...

I felt like I should have said something, but I didn't. More than ever, I feel the need to 'broadcast' in some way... whether the 'Question Gender' shirt that the Emperor has, or my rainbow earrings, or the various pride shirts the College has. (I at least have my Audrey Kawasaki desktop wallpaper...)

I've never had much queer pride before and I haven't been 'actively' feminist before either. I am both queer and feminist - I just don't usually feel the need to be in-your-face about it. But here, I totally do. The culture strikes me as pretty chauvinistic. We were out at a bar one night, and I got into the music and started dancing. One of the local students I knew started trying to convince me that I needed to let guys grind on me, otherwise I'd be stuck dancing by myself all night... It's one thing to be at a frat party, getting sketched on by guys left and right - you can just escape from them and dance with your friends. But it's another thing to be told that it's your obligation to let guys grind on you, even if sexual dancing in this country isn't necessarily a come-on.

So yeah. The environment isn't looking conducive to sex so far.

In addition: the University I'm going to here censors internet browsing. Censors. Internet. Browsing! Makes me feel like I'm back in grade school.

Youporn? Censored. Adultfanfiction.net? Censored. Interestingly, some of the sexblogs get by. Gay site? Censored. Poly site? Censored. Friendly Hostility? Censored! (Jesus! Fucking Friendly Hostility?! It's not even an adult webcomic...)

So I don't even have any masturbatory material! I should have taken some of Christopher's hentai with me...

Filed under: Queer, reflections, sexual frustration No Comments

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Wilhelmina Wang. Queer, female college student with her mind lodged firmly in the gutter, seeking genderbenders, lessons in BDSM, a meaningful fuck, and a point in life.

Here's where her mind is spilled like the proverbial guts.

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