Internal rambling…

Warning – I’m going to talk about some stuff that may make you uncomfortable… but remember this is my personal diary – so if you don’t like it, don’t read it. This is where I sometimes sort stuff out. It makes me feel better to type it out… sometimes it even helps me make sense of stuff.

I have been on a self-imposed sex desert… the Sahara. I have forgotten why I put myself there… I suppose I could go back and read through old posts and figure it out, but whatever. If you’ve been here a while, you know sex is important to me… it’s part of being human… and alive. Even if I’m not in a loving couple relationship, I need the physicality. I’m ready to leave the desert and go back to swimming in the lake. Lately I’ve noticed I get a little tingle when I see email from GoDaddy and move it over to the GoDaddy folder… saying the word in my mind GoDaddy… Am I alone here? LOL – Probably… also the “submit” button… that gets me too. Yeah, I know… I’m a freak.

The other day, while making the long drive to work, I was thinking about penises. (You were too? See… we are friends – LOL) There is one in particular that is perfect for me… but I can’t have that one… I had even forgotten at one point how perfect it was for me – then when we reconnected a few months later, I was so pleasantly surprised and thought “Yes, this is perfect… the perfect penis for me!”… but those are thoughts for another day. There is a close second that I have enjoyed a number of times… I had recently considered texting the owner of that one but talked myself out of it a few times. At a meeting with a builder the other day I found myself wondering if he was married… if he had a good penis… if he was good in bed… I realize this is not considered “normal” female thinking. It’s the way I’m built. I’m very sexual and when not in a relationship and having regular sex, these thoughts crop up. So sue me.  

While driving and thinking about penises I went ahead and texted the owner of the runner up. (I know – don’t text and drive.) I was prepared for a wide range of possible responses… from “I’m seeing someone” to “Why haven’t I heard from you in so long?” to “Not interested” … I was even prepared for silence. What I got was an instant, very warm response.

I didn’t go immediately straight to the point… I did say “Hi” and “How are you?” … then asked if he’d like to fuck one day soon… He wanted me to come over right away. I had to explain I was working, so I couldn’t go over now, but could later. He was so pouty about the “I can’t this moment”, I thought it was going to turn into a “forget it”. I did have to explain I didn’t know his current status or receptivity and had anticipated needing to plan ahead a bit if he was receptive – most people would not be like “yes it’s 8am on a Thursday, let’s do this”. He did get over it and we made plans for after work. I talked about it with him, and he is completely up for me swinging by any time for sex. No “relationship” just sex. No scheduling days or weeks in advance or coordinating calendars – just “let’s have sex now” or “let’s fuck” works for him. This makes me happy. He is right off the freeway I drive up and down every day. It’s convenient.

When I was going through my divorce, I had a fuckbuddy. I had one accidentally for a while last year. In this case, neither of us has any illusions this will be “more” or “different” than what it is – just sex. I’ve known this guy a while… about a year and half. He’s not soft, sweet, or “romantic”. He manages IT for a very large organization, very analytical… very direct… he is a guy that will competitively race motorcycles at 100mph for fun and cares more about his pit bulls than he ever would any woman in his life. I’m okay with that. He’s good at sex.

I think if I ever talked to him about energy, intention, or meditation he would think I was soft in the head. He and I have trouble talking about anything really… we have tried. I seriously doubt he will ever stop being a quintessential “overly hard and jaded masculine” bachelor. There was one time last year when he tried to be sweet… I told him I wanted to have conversation and food… he tried… it didn’t end well… That’s okay – that is not what we can have together – we fuck.

There is one thing he said the other night that I keep remembering though… it’s weird. And kind of under my skin a bit I guess if I keep hearing it in my mind. We always have some pleasantries – like “How was your day?” or “Drive safe – text me”, but we don’t try to go “deep” or “real” or “soft”… it’s just all about the sex. In the middle of sex he said something that caught me off guard and was not something he would ever normally say… he said in a soft, almost vulnerable way “You know how sexy you are… don’t you?” Normally if he were to ask me something, it would be in a different tone of voice, and I would answer – it’s part of the game… the role. This was different. I chose not to answer. I think I may have paused for a moment… but said nothing. Then we went back to our play… but it has kind of haunted me for some reason. He probably meant nothing “real” by it, but it stuck with me.

So now I have to analyze it… my first thought was “No… I’m a middle-aged chunky woman whose tits have succumb to gravity.” Then I think – “middle-aged” is generous… I will not live to be 116. I like to “feel” like I can be sexy and desirable… but let’s face it – I am not a hot 20 something (anymore anyway) … I look okay for my age… some I know have not aged as well… I could be better if I worked at it… who decides what “sexy” looks like? Robert found me sexy… but he’s dead. Do people ever think I’m sexy? Does it matter? My therapist said I don’t need therapy why? In my mind, maybe “sexy” is more of an attitude? A way of “being” in the moment? It doesn’t matter – it only matters however I am makes my fuckbuddy’s dick hard – right? The neighbor is always looking at my ass or my boobs… does he think I’m sexy? I don’t care if he does… he needs to buy a house – I focus on that. I did the same mental spiral once when someone asked me if I knew how pretty I was. I had assumed people just said that kind of thing to be nice, but I finally did concede that I have pretty moments… we all do. I have always been taught it’s the inside that matters. I never learned to use my feminine features the way most girls and women do… I have always felt I was broken in that regard… someone finally taught me how to put on lipstick when I was 40, and I rarely ever wear any make-up. I went through an eyeliner phase as a teenager, but I have never been a make-up person. I just work. I make things happen… it doesn’t matter what I “look” like… it just matters who I “am” – right?

That’s why it’s so easy to pack for my trip. (Suitcase is open – I’m ready) I don’t need to take a bunch of things. Hairbrush, toothbrush, shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste, razor, moisturizer, swimsuit, dresses, shoes, money, passport… done. I am going to get a manicure before I go, so I don’t look like a homeless person… and have a little more drive-by sex so I don’t end up getting random international sex… although… would that be horrible?

There you have it. Welcome to the rabbit hole in my mind. Okay… my dirty mind and I must get back to work.