How Sick!

by Disco

Monday night, Liam promised to come over and hang out with me. I waited. I waited. I waited. And I never heard from him. So, in a frenzied state of anger and horniness I got in touch with Hugh, who had texted me a few nights before - the first time I heard from him since that last fuck together. I'd sorted out my feelings towards him (none except the urge to use him as my personal dildo boy) and so I hopped in a cab and went to his place.

He sucked me, he fucked me, he fingered me, he did it all - I came four times. Then I went down on him, intending to suck him off until he came - we went at it for an hour or more and he hadn't come yet. And there I was, bopping and sucking for nearly twenty minutes when my lip was numb, my jaw was aching and suddenly I was just nauseous. A few minutes later, he laughed at something - something unrelated in it head - but I took it the wrong way and combined with the nausea, I asked to go home. He walked me home, but I'm pretty sure he's never going to speak to me again, my just ditching him midblowjob and never letting him come even though I came four times...

I honestly felt really bad about it.

I went to this place across the street to get something to eat, and standing in line I suddenly got incredibly light-headed. My hearing went down by half, I felt like I would pass out... A couple days later, at the doctor's office, I was diagnosed with a sinus infection. I feel really bad about the whole ordeal, I wish I could have finished him off... Haven't heard from him since and don't expect to :P Found out later that night, Liam had just gone to the pub with his buds.

I spent the rest of the week sick as a dog, didn't go anywhere, but was looking forward to my date with Liam for last night. Thursday he promised to come over again, but canceled - citing dizziness. That was fine. Friday night, he allegedly passed out and had to be taken to the hospital - with low blood pressure, that was fine. Except. He never officially canceled the Saturday date - he told me these things were going on - said he hoped he'd still be able to make it but whenever the time was he realised he couldn't, I didn't hear one word from him. I don't hear from him all of Saturday until late Saturday night when he lets me in on that his friends took him out for a couple drinks since he was feeling a bit better. That was just a slap in the face. At like midnight, he asked if we could have a drink or maybe I could come over and watch a movie with him afterall. I told him maybe another time. I'm not just going to be on his time, waiting for him to come hang out with me and just being pathetic enough to let it slide when he ditches me to go for drinks. So I am backing way off of that one, if he wants it he can come get it. I guess he wasn't as thoughtful as we were all hoping...

But! Saturday night an interesting thing happened. Jack, the ex, came online and I told him to call me. And he did. We talked on the phone together for three hours... It was the first time I'd spoken to him on the phone since the last time we had phone sex, way back in June. It was amazing. It was great to hear his voice - to hear the tone of how he was saying things, it avoided a lot of gnarly confusion. I got to hear his laugh, I got to really talk to him. He told me that he does still like me, that he misses me, that he thinks about me... We made plans about things we want to try when we're back together. I have never, ever felt as secure about the one-year agreement as I am now. Before it seemed like a ridiculous hope. Now it seems like it's going to happen...

We talked about how I wanted to try having candies - like chocolate covered almonds - slid into my pussy, and he would have to pull them out with his tongue and eat them. We talked about how he wanted me to wear a pair of little white panties , how he wants to try sex with someone watching, how I want to have sex in a restroom of a restaurant and a party, how we both want to have sex outdoors. We talked about the things we used to do that turned us on, we talked about what we would do to each other right now if we could. He came once. I came twice.

In light of this conversation, knowing how much I do love him, and believing that the one year agreement seems like a pretty solid shot at this point (OMG YAY ^.^) I think I'd like to take the rest of the year to just explore myself, like I had set out to do in the beginning. I don't want to have a relationship with anybody. I don't know if I would stop it if it started happening, but I want to take this year and try all the things I want to try with whoever I want to try them with. I want to go with the flow. And mostly, I want to focus on myself.

Sunday Starts

by Disco

We're going to change the blog so that the first blog post of the week is on Sunday (which is really the first day of the week, anyway.) This week's topic is lingerie!

Oh, lingerie, lingerie, how I love thee... Now. I think there is a small difference between what lingerie makes me feel sexy and what lingerie makes a man pop a big one. In my experience, men like to see their lady in a pair of undies and a t-shirt - this is sexy enough.

But what do I think is sexy? The sexiest thing in the world, to me, is a garter belt and stockings. Stockings with a seam right up the back, even if they're nude coloured stockings. I don't own stockings and a garter belt, I should but I've been too self-conscious to wear them. It's a thing it seems only girls with great thighs should do.... But maybe I'm wrong.

Another thing I love is a long, floor-length, silk nighty that flows around your legs when they're freshly shaven - and I love wearing this with nothing underneath. That is also sexy to me.

Finally, heels. Heels with the silk nightie, heels with the stockings, heels with a corset or a demi-cup bra (both things I love,) or heels just by their lonesome. Just you. In heels. Not really lingerie, but... Oh, well.

The thing I love most about lingerie is the power it gives you, the confidence it gives you. If you are wearing a nice, matching black lace bra and panty set underneath whatever you are wearing, it doesn't matter at all, you will feel empowered. You will feel special. You will feel sexy, and good about yourself. It's magic.

Men's lingerie? I'm not so sure on it. I like my men in boxer-briefs. Boxers are too juvenile, briefs are too small. Boxer-briefs do it for me. I haven't really experimented much with men's thongs or so on... Don't really know if I would be turned on by it. I might be turned on by a guy comfortable enough to do it for me... But then I would have a laugh and pull those suckers right off.

Now, I also have come to believe that panties. Should be worshipped. This is weird, I know, but you see Jack had a panty fetish. Well, still does. He loves nothing more than panties - all panties, everything from regular cotton briefs to pearl thongs. He loves lace, colour, cuts, all of it. He loves it all. He loved them so much, if we started making out he would always ask to see what pair I was wearing that day - it just got him going bad. I didn't own any thongs when we were dating, and one day he gave me money and took me to the store and told me to pick out five thongs for myself. He loved them. And he would worship them - in the process of undressing, the underwear never. Ever. came off with the pants or leggings or whatever else. The underwear was always left on, the waistband was snapped, the pussy was played with through them. The underwear was a crucial step - and often, it never came off, he would slide it aside and fuck me with them on.

There's something that makes you feel sexy and special when somebody pays attention to your panties like that... I don't know what it is. I guess it's because I pick out my underwear for someone if I think they're going to be seeing them. Before Jack, if they just pulled them off and chucked them to the side, I wouldn't care. Since Jack, I miss it. I want someone to worship my panties. When a man pulls my thong off right with my pants, I feel like it's a waste - something didn't go properly. I feel disappointed. I want to show off. I want my effort to be appreciated. I want to tease you.

If a guy doesn't have a panty fetish, I wonder 'What is wrong with him?'

I have been opened to the power and the beauty and the sexuality of lingerie. Just talking about it makes me wet, really. Wearing it drives me nuts. And I want my wearing it to drive its audience nuts, as well!

Waiting For My Time To Come

by Disco

The waiting game. How do I feel about the waiting game. Well, obviously, as I've said before I believe that the waiting game can work if implemented by a woman with a guy you actually like. Now, let me explain why this is both cool and not cool.

Say you're on a date with a guy, early on in your time together, and you realise that you get along with them but you just don't see yourself really dating them, and actually getting involved with them. That's when you can hike up your skirt and get to playing early, because if he bails on you, it's no big thing, and if he's good in bed, you didn't miss out.

Now, say you're on a date with a guy, early on, and you realise you could see yourself getting involved with them, and really liking them - and maybe one day loving them. You really want to see where things could go. Then, keep your panties on honey. In my opinion, them goods best be kept in the cupboard. You have to keep him wanting more. In my experience, if you keep them wanting more for a while you are more likely to get them in the end. And I think they do enjoy that chase. Plus it gives you a little time to really cultivate a connection that isn't based purely in penis-vagina bonding. You have time to bail out before you start getting your sexual feelings confused with your more substantial feelings. And the tension just builds until finally that one night, every little touch is something you've been yearning for...

Oh, goodness, just had a little moment.

OK, thinking cap back on. Now! What's not cool about this is that this is really only works in a female-to-male scenario, when in the context of a heterosexual relationship. If your man isn't trying desperately to get in your pants, I think that is a pretty universal sign that he's not all that into you. Sure, he can be respectful - and that's much appreciated. But it's much appreciated after he tries a little bit, you say no, and he backs off. Then you've got a good one, and you know he wants you. The man should be in pursuit. This is awful and reveals me to be such a traditionalist, but I do believe the man enjoys pursuing and the woman should let him enjoy the chase. That being said, I do think the woman ultimately has control and is really the one doing the pursuing, when it comes down to it - you flirty little minxes, you.

Now! Outside of the context of a heterosexual relationship, I can't really speak. I would be interested to learn the rules of the waiting game in different cultures and men who actually enjoy being pursued as opposed to pursuing and all kinds of you rule-breakers out there. I just know that this is a formula that has been out there for thousands and thousands of years and there must be a damned good reason why it hasn't gone away. I know many, many couples who started out with the woman putting a stop-hold on sex until later and they are very happy now. One couple, the man even said he's not sure he would've stuck around if his girlfriend had slept with him early on. She made him wait three months.

So, I am using this technique right now. Liam, the Irish electrician from the other post, has come to see me twice more since our delicious night of making out that to this day makes my stomach flop. He saw me for drinks on Wednesday, and then Friday night he came over for an unplanned night of - well, it was supposed to be cards but he didn't bring them. I told myself I would let him go further than last time, but not much further. In the end, he got quite I bit further.

Our makeout session started out pretty PG until the sucker unhooked my bra in one swift move with one hand. It was so quick and light, for a second I thought my bra had just broken! We made out against the bed, he rolled me over on top of him on the floor, he pulled over on top of me - he followed my every movement and I tried to follow his and it was just this cohesive dance across the entire span of the room, he didn't fight me on anything. We were both topless, and he tried to get down my pants with his hand but I wasn't letting him, until I finally gave in and let him dive in - over the panties, of course.

He moved me around, stood me up, pulled me over onto his lap on the bed. He moved my hips against his, he rolled me over onto my back - it was two hours of incredible, passionate fun and I got so into it, at some point I let him finger me... he was so deep it almost hurt but felt so good... I stopped him before I came. I didn't want to go that far yet.

He cuddled me for a good half hour after that, stuck around as long as he could before he had to go - even longer, actually, after a half hour he tried to leave but I asked for five more minutes and he gave me twenty. On his way out, I gave him a nice hot kiss to send him away with. He let go of the door he was holding open, pushed me back against the wall, pinned my arms down and made me so wet. I would have let him do anything to me he wanted right then, so I was glad he left.

The waiting game seems to be working for me, he's been sticking around and seems to like me quite a bit. He let me know that was probably the most intense session he's ever had where clothes stayed in tact - I told him to wait until they came off. Let me tell you, it is taking a ton of willpower not to just mount this man and ride him all night but I have got to keep it cool, keep it light, keep him wanting more. In the meantime, it's kind of a lot of fun. I feel like a fourteen year old girl, and it's really a good time... Let's hope it keeps getting better from here.

Éire go Brách

by Disco

Had me a date with an Irishman on Saturday night and it went pretty well.

To skip over the non-sexy parts, we went to a patio and he had three beers, I had two Long Island Iced teas and we talked. Then we went to a "real" Irish Pub (the closest thing to the ones in Ireland us Canadians have) and he bought us a pitcher. I made friends with a couple extra flamboyant gays on the walk there, and they hung out with us for a while - he was very kind to them despite his slight uncomfortableness, and relaxed around them quickly. Because a few people very close to me, including my father and my cousin, are gay, this was incredibly important to me -- and also important to the gays! One of them let me know this guy was a real keeper, and when we have babies we should remember how our first date was crashed by a bunch of flamers. It was perfectly, quirkily romantic...

He put his hand on my knee while this traditional Irish band played "Dirty Old Town" by the Pogues - which I privately decided would be our song should he and I ever become a we. He held my hand later, and I was full of butterflies.

Now I have to tell you that Aunt Flo was in town at this time and also... I really like this guy... so the sexy parts weren't too sexual. I have a general feeling that if you really like a guy, you gotta hold out the goods - if you don't like him so much, you can give it up for a hot time. But, as I said, I liked this one. Because I liked him, I'll give him a name: Liam.

Cut to me and Liam in the downstairs basement of the building I rent a room in. About 24 people live here, about 15 or so of us share one kitchen. I brought him down there because a) Flo and b) my room is a huuuuge mess and that would just be embarrassing. So, a few people from my building walked in and out while we were still in the moving-closer-together pre-first-kiss stage. One, a friend of mine - also named Liam, but thoroughly gay - walked through and gave me 'OooOOooh, naughty naughty!' faces, but soon we were left alone.

Liam swooped in for the first kiss. It lasted about 15 minutes. Halfway through it, I crawled up on his lap and was grinding on him - which was a little further than I initially intended... But I sometimes can't help myself. After this kiss - which, can I say, was fucking hot - he let me know it was one of his top 5 kisses of all time. Not so bad!

We continued a pattern of talking, cuddling and making out over the next hour and a half. It was really sweet and I felt very comfortable, which was a really good sign. I even did some quirky things I only do with guys I really like - like inspect their arms and hands for scars and cuts, and ask after their watches. He showed me his appendix removal scars, and answered all my questions. For the record, I am a lady obsessed with hands and this guy had great hands. Not sweaty at all, rugged and masculine. He's an electrician. They're awesome hands. Plus, he seemed to greatly enjoy kissing at my neck - my absolute favourite spot to be kissed!

Then, he said he ought to be moving off, although he didn't want to leave he was falling asleep - we'd hit about the 2 AM mark. I walked him out, and when we got to the porch he gave me another steamy kiss. He pushed me back up against this brick support pole that's on the porch, and that was pretty hot in and of itself. But then he did something no guy has ever done to me, something I'd only seen in movies, something you guys probably won't find all that awesome but something that totally was awesome.

He slid his hands down under my ass, and picked me up fully so that my legs were around his waist and I was shoved up against the pole. So hot. I'm not a particularly waifish lady, so this was a bit of a feat. A hot feat.

After I slid down from this (insecure about my weight,) he managed to get his hand between my leg before I had the willpower to stop him. Oh goodness, guys. He found my sweet spot right away. You do not know how many guys have been so embarrassingly off-target. This guy: Bullseye. I nearly fell over... But, again, I liked him! So I got him out of there and told him he must go because I had to leave him wanting. He pulled me in for a little more kissage but finally I got him to leave. Let me tell you, tho, if Aunt Flo weren't buffering me I don't know if I would've had the willpower.

In the end, I'm glad we didn't go any farther. I think he probably gives me more respect because of it, and I definitely left him wanting more. He's texted me every day since, and has, on the whole, been a very sweet man. I don't even mind him calling me 'hun.' Did I mention I like this one?

The Girls

Oh no! Glitterbella has gone camping this weekend and will not be making a post on this week's subject! You'll just have to get by on a two-girl diet...

by Disco

Do I have experience with girls? Yes.

I remember my first girl-on-girl kiss was actually a girl-on-girl-on-girl kiss. During a game of Truth or Dare it somehow came about that the dare was to kiss two girls at once. So me, Aliza and I think it was Rachel, all made out in this weird simultaneous tongue massage. This was about seventh grade.

At the same time, I had a major crush on my friend Helen. It was my first crush on a girl, and it sort of freaked me out. I wondered if it was even OK for a girl to like another girl that way - but I never did or said anything about it and over the years, Helen and I drifted apart.

Then for a while, I did the usual fooling around with girls that girls do. Kissing each other drunk, squeezing each other's breasts - mostly in jest.

After this came Jojo. Jojo and I actually dated for 2-3 months, I told my mom about it, she was alright with it, and Jojo and I were cool. We even used to make out in XTC's room with 10 minute limits. We never got very far, Jojo never tried to touch my pussy or anything, and I was too scared to make the first move, but we had some upperbody play and some very heated makeouts. But then Jojo turned out to be absolutely psychotic and I broke up with her. Psyyyyychooooo....

Since Jojo, there hasn't been many ladies in my life. I wouldn't be opposed to any ladies, and going further with them - I even know a girl who went all the way with her best friend, just because they both wanted to see what it was like, not because of any romantic attraction - and I am also very curious about what that is like. It is somewhat like when you're 13 and you know you like boys, but you're still scared about giving your first blowjob or having sex for the first time. No different - just taking me longer to get there. If I do. My girl-crushes are much more rare than my boy-crushes, although they do happen.

My only celebrity girl-crush has been on Lady Gaga, actually, though. Once, I was having sex with Jack very near the end of our relationship and for some reason, I could not get into it. I closed my eyes, and imagined that it was Gaga eating me out instead... I came almost instantly. Gaga is actually probably the only celebrity of any sex I have had any fantasies like that about, and sometimes I even fantasize about her when masturbating. I don't know what it is about her, but imagining how her skin feels... gets me every time.

Personally, I think it's very healthy to be open to people of all sexes in the search for love, or lust. People are people, and I believe anybody can fall in love/lust with anybody at any time. I do have a general understanding through some experimentation and noticing my own reactions as to which way I will probably go, but I think being 100% straight or 100% gay really closes you off to many beautiful opportunities to have incredible moments with other human beings. I would welcome those opportunities.

"Now... Do My Bottom."

by Disco

This is my story of how I came to love anal sex.

Jack and I had a friend, I'll call him Coyote. Coyote was talking one day about how he loves anal sex because it's a good substitute during his lady's Time of the Month. Jack and I were both disgusted.

Jack was, at one point, so disgusted that the mention of anal sex would cause him to lose his boner. Anal sex - and Coyote - became a running joke between us for a couple months. Then, one day, Jack says to me "All of this talk about anal sex has actually made me curious about it." And, suddenly, he wanted to try it.

I said to him something similar to what Glitter would say to a man who wanted to up-the-bum her. I said, "You can fuck me in the ass when I can fuck you in the ass."

This shut him up for a couple more months.

And then, suddenly, he asked me if I would actually be interested in pegging, and if I were sincerely interested in pegging, he would be sincerely open to fulfilling my fantasy. Provided I also fulfill his. And thus got me thinking about it. I did research, I watched that episode of Sex and the City where Charlotte is contemplating letting a guy do her anally and the four of them have a whole discussion about it in the back of a cab about five times, I let him start experimenting with rimming and fingers, etc.

So, months and months after this, I was tied up, I was really into the moment, and I told him to just go ahead and do it. Just fuck me in the ass. So, slowly, and gently, and with much direction, he did. It was the first and only time I have had anal sex. It was very painful, but also it was good.

I remember the next day feeling slutty because of it. We broke up not long afterward and I remember thinking, what an awful waste - to give that to somebody and have them leave you. It was, somehow, more important to me than my vaginal virginity.

But then, my dildo became friendly with my ass. And suddenly I loved ass play. Loved it! Didn't have anybody to share it with anymore, but loved it even on my own. I started small, and I got bigger, until I could comfortably fit a whole dildo inside. Initially, it was only an accessory to the real stimulation of clitoral rubbing, just allowing a bigger and quicker orgasm. It wasn't until one day I was cybering with Jack - a cyber in which he told me what to do, and I did exactly what he said, no more no less - when he told me to fuck myself in the ass with the dildo but not to touch my pussy. The combination of what had happened before, doing exactly what he told me, and just the delicious feeling of it was the first time I came from purely ass play.

I never looked back. I routinely play with my ass. I even like anal porn at this point, something I once loathed. And I think the moral of this story is that those things which repulse you, if you open your doors to them and throw away some of your conditioning to be 'pure' and 'good,' may one day bring you deep pleasure. And there is nothing wrong with that.

IMPORTANT NOTE:

Anal sex is a high-risk sexual activity, and is very high-risk when performed without protection. The ass is a very delicate place; rips, bleeding and tears are easily inflicted as well as damage to the sphincter muscles. Many diseases are easily contracted during anal sex. Outside of the possibility of physical damage and diseases, as well as regular STDs and HIV/AIDS, anal sex may be linked to anal cancer. Anal sex should, under all circumstances, be done consensually, safely, and gently, with much proper lubrication. I believe the saying regarding lubrication for anal sex is 'If you think you have too much, add more.' On top of all of this, avoid cross-contamination always. Do not move an object (be it a penis, a toy, or a finger) into the vagina or mouth after it has been in the ass without first changing condoms or cleaning the area, as this can lead to infections &c.

Playing With This Bow & Arrow

by Disco

The night before last, I was very, very horny. Disturbingly horny. Would hump anything that spoke to me horny. There's a man who lives across the hall from me that I've had a minor crush on since I moved here - nothing of interest, I usually forget about it until I see him, and he has less than no interest in me - but I was so horny I considered showing up at his door and just jumping the poor man.

So horny I called Jack. But the universe intervened, I got his machine, and I didn't leave a message.

So horny that finally, I texted Hugh. He was out of town, there was absolutely no luck for ol' Disco trying to get laid. So I settled down with Orion (my vibrating dildo) and a little pornhub.com and got myself off. Twice. Mid-going at myself, Hugh texted me naughty things and tells me he'll take care of me the next day. I agreed.

The next day came along, and got into the evening, and not a word from Hugh. I got more and more peeved about it. Finally, I saw him online. Just sitting there. Available. But not messaging me. Typical of him. So, I got pissed and I messaged him - coolly, mind you. Didn't give away my pissed-offedness. Finally, we settled on plans to meet up. Because of my very hot 'n' bothered texting the previous evening there was no point in my playing coy, so I just went straight to his place to pick up the booty I called for. Totally worth any drama I put myself through earlier that night.

We started things off by trying and failing to watch a movie - he couldn't keep his hands off me, I didn't mind. So I told him to stand up, I whipped out the handcuffs I brought along with me, and I handcuffed his hands behind his back. I got down on my knees and sucked him off, and I had him cum all over my chest. Next, he wanted to reciprocate, so he gets me on the bed and handcuffs my hands above my head - which is when I found out this is his first time using handcuffs in the bedroom, which I thought was awful cute. So he kissed his way down my thigh and this was the first time he went down on me - we'd fooled around once before, and slept together once before, but he'd never gone down on me. This was turning into a night of firsts.

He was great, though. A gigantic tease, he would just breathe on it until I wanted to just... ugh, I don't know. And then he went to town. And I came. In my experience, you come, a guy thinks his job is finished, he moves on. Not this guy. I told him I came, and he didn't even stop for a breath. He just kept in on it. I came twice more before he surfaced, and he did everything. He licked it, sucked on it, fucked it with his tongue... Makes me smile just thinking about it.

Then, after I made the mistake of asking him to fuck me 'please,' he uncuffed me and told me to rub my own pussy until I came again. Only when I came again would he fuck me. So, off I went! And he watched. And I gotta tell you, that order was kind of hot so it didn't take me long.

Four down.

Finally, he slides on his condom and pulls me in. He pushes himself inside me and it was better than the last time, even. We started out going pretty normal, making out, some biting, and all that. There was some dirty talk and it was a pretty good time. We switched positions - legs went up, down, asses were in the air, hair was being pulled, and I had my fifth orgasm. But then, we were still going at it, and he was telling me why he likes me. Likes me-likes me. I don't know how much I believe him as yet, but for some reason I said "Fuck me like you hate me." He looked so confused! So I said, "Just trust me."

Oh. My. God. He got so into it. He was slamming me so hard, he had my knees pulled up to where they hurt, his nails were digging into my skin, he was calling me names, pulling my hair, I was taunting him - it was incredible. But somewhere in the middle of that something switched in me. For some reason suddenly I realised, I could actually like this guy. I might actually want to date this guy, and I was caught up in this thought process and I touched his back - really lightly - and he got it. Right away. He slowed right down, his whole expression changed, he was totally in tune and paying attention. I leaned up to his ear and said "I like you," and he said the same.

We kept on fucking, but it got to a weird humorous place. We shifted between sharing nasty fantasies involving showers, creampies, other people, mirrors, whips and double penetration and just joking around. He could laugh and joke around with me while we were having sex, and it was kind of great. Somewhere when he was telling me one of his stories, I got him to choke me a little bit - which was the first time I ever asked anybody to do that. I've accidentally choked a little during sex [and liked it] but I don't want to get into breath play too seriously, I just like the feeling of a hand around my neck. My neck is my favourite place to be touched when I'm in the moment. Anyway, so I came for the sixth and final time. Sometime not long after that - and after about two straight hours of fucking - Hugh finally came, choosing to pull out and cum on my ass.

After this is when all the Firsts really happened.

1) We cuddled. I messed around with this kid twice before, and no cuddles was I afforded. Last night, he pulled me in and cuddled me for a solid half hour afterward. And naked, too. Normally we'd both bolt right to putting out clothes back on. This was really nice, and made me feel like maybe he did like me. There was some making out, and lots of talk and joking.

2) As we left his building, we made out in the elevator. The past two times, we sort of just stood beside each other awkwardly. Last night, he pulled me in and there was full on making out. Kinda hot.

3) Sitting in his car outside my building, normally I give him a little goodnight peck and sort of slip out and wish him a happy rest of his life. Not so, again! I gave him my little peck, went to leave, and he grabbed my arm, pulled me in, and gave me a real goodnight kiss.

He told me he'd talk to me 'soon.' I haven't heard from him today, and maybe I won't. He's said that before and I never heard from him (until I got horny, and really, what single man is going to resist a guaranteed lay?) If I don't, then it was a pretty awesome night. But on the other hand, I'm worried. I think I might actually like this guy...

Jazz Hands.

by Disco

Tuesday I went out with a man named Tony, a jazz musician around 25 years old. We had spoken quite a bit online before he asked me out, and set up a date for the Thursday previous but circumstances caused us to postpone. In the days between, we got closer, and told each other some secrets. Then, we met.

Tony was - in looks, in stature, in pretentiousness, in every way - an echo of an ex boyfriend.

An exboyfriend who also happened to be named Tony.

And who happened to have been from a very sordid period of my life. I do not look upon memories with Original Tony with happiness, or with even romantic inclinations. Just... shame and sadness.

I tried to give New Tony a chance. But I wasn't having it. But for some reason, despite all that... I fucked him. Maybe it was because Original Tony had had a traumatic experience and never let me go all the way, and I wanted to finally complete that goal - get Original Tony to get carried away enough to sleep with me. New Tony even had a very similar penis - uncircumcised, about five inches, flat, almost. Tony wasn't good at findng my clit, the way this guy was (that guy shall from now on be referred to as Hugh,) either. Tony begged me to let him not use a condom - and I refused to agree to such a thing, I made him wear one. I should have shut down the whole shebang then because that was a major turn-off. Several times throughout he made little hints about how it would be better if he wasn't wearing a condom. Please. Like I care about your popping one off more than I care about my general health and life. There was also this funny lack of passion going on. I love sex when you both get into it so much you don't even notice anything, or you don't care - that something fell over, that your head is hitting the wall, blah blah. It wasn't like that. It was, like, clinical... Finally, I told him to just stop and he could jack off and come anywhere on my body he wanted, below the face because I just was not interested anymore. So he did. Then invited himself to stay over.

Thankfully, whoever lives above me was making such a ruckus, he finally left. The next day I told him I wasn't interested.

The whole affair reminded me of that scene in When Harry Met Sally... where Harry is telling Sally about his first date post-Helen, and how awful it went and his panic attack and she comforts him by saying it might be a long time before they find somebody they like, and even longer before they find somebody they can go to bed with - and he says "Oh, I went to bed with her."

I don't know when it happened that I turned into a man, but I'm not really enjoying it. I keep wanting to go on dates because I don't want to be the pathetic celibate girl that just waits for her love to come back - her love who might not come back, and might doubly not come back if she turns into that pathetic celibate girl who can't live without him. I don't want to not be able to live without Jack. But, I also don't want to live without him. So I keep going on these dates, but these dates just remind me that I don't want to be dating. I sleep with people to get the experience I used to be afraid I would miss if Jack and I worked out, but I realise the experience isn't as good as being with him was.

Wrap It Up

by Disco

Unsafe sex? Oh, my.

Have I had it? Yes. Two guys. One, when I lost my virginity, as we've spoken about. MISTAKE. MIS. TAKE. If I could mulligan that, I totally would.

The other guy was Jack. Jack and I had an interesting issue because he was too big for me and he wasn't buying lubricated condoms so it was a bad issue and there was some tearing. At first I thought I had an STD because I was bleeding after sex every time, so I went to the clinic and she tested me but also informed me I had been torn in a few places and that was causing the bleeding. The tests came back negative. She told me to buy lube, so I did.

After that, I'm not 100% sure why the condoms disappeared, but I think I associated them with the discomfort. And we were exclusive by that point, both tested, and I was on the pill. So there was a level of protection going on. After Jack and I broke up, of course, we reverted back to condom use as that promise of exclusivity was gone.

But with the exception of these two gentlemen - one a mistake, one a thoroughly discussed decision with much careful planning and a lot of him asking 'Did you take your pill today?' - I have always had any man wrap it. Now I am not so far as to asking a man to wrap it for a blowjob, although perhaps I should be now if I am going to be doing more of a casual thing... Safety is of the utmost importance, especially in this day & age. I am lucky I've gotten away with it in the past. But I won't bet on luck in the future.

Boned.

by Disco

Last night I got boned. This was my first full on sex since Jack, the ex. I feel two ways about it, but first let me tell you how it all went down.

Remember that guy who gave me three orgasms and didn't ask for anything in return? Well we got to talking again last night and he invited me out to ice cream with him (aww) so, you know. Three orgasms, little to nothing needed in return... I went. We hung out, played a couple games, walked around, had a beer, and then finally made it back to his place. We watched Youtube videos and cuddled for a while until the inevitable happened.

Making out.

And then... he put his hand between my legs. And I spread, baby, easy like margarine. But somewhere between that, a bit of sucking, and some fingering, he was fucking my hands when I asked him - quite on this week's topic - 'Do you have a condom?' I don't know why it was so easy to say because I thought I would wait longer before sleeping with a new person - but he went and got a condom and then slid right inside.

He was long. It hurt a bit. But I asked him to slow down, we changed up positions a few times, and it was fine. And kind of hot as he was fully naked but I still had my dress on, which somehow made me feel in control. He came before me but pulled out and promptly made sure that was rectified - ahh, sweet orgasm. We cuddled for about 10 minutes after, making out periodically, before I got up and he drove me home.

Today, like I said, I feel two ways. One, I feel empowered, relaxed and freaking awesome. Two, I feel like I betrayed Jack somehow... Like I didn't wait long enough in order to prove my love... But I got to bang a British boy!

Upsized

by Disco

Do I have penis preferences? Yes, I do. I don't know Glitterbella's opinion on this one, but I am not in perfect agreement with XTC. I have a definite perfect penis ideal.

Why? I will admit that my perfect penis ideal is primarily for aesthetic reasons. Aesthetically, it turns me on. I know that a guy of any size can work his wand and perform magic but if I'm going to hold it, stroke it, suck on it, and just plain look at it I have some preferences for how I like it to be.

1) Preferably between six and eight and a half inches. Why? The real reason: I like the challenge of a longer dick in a blowjob, but when it gets too long it gets painful.

2) Thick. This is more important than length, really. I don't want to feel like I'm inserting a tampon. Preferably it's gonna be a nice, substantial dick. It definitely won't need to be a two-hander but just good and solid.

3) Trimmed. I like the hairs around the dick and the balls to be trimmed. Manscaping is a big plus for Disco. This is primarily for oral reasons although it does appeal visually as well. I will note that I said trim. I don't dig shaved. I'm not into the prepubescent look.

4) Circumcised. Yes, I have a preference. And I prefer circumcised. I've been with guys who were circumcised and guys who weren't circumcised and I totally advocate for the former. I find it easier to deal with, I find it on the whole more sanitary, more pleasant to have in the mouth, and most of all nicer looking.

Now I won't argue with anybody who loves short thin bushy uncircumcised penises. It's totally a preference thing. But this is my fantasy penis. Have I ever met him in real life? Yes. Would I like to meet him again? Double yes. This is the penis I want in every way. Any other penis I will accept in the hopes that the man behind the penis can use it. But this. This is the cock I will worship.

We're Not Dead!

by Disco

Hey! All three of us apologize for the lack of weekly topic posts this week. The beautiful XTC had a personal crisis which definitely trumped the blog. Although I will tell you Glitterbella had at least one good night this week... but she can tell you all about that later.

As for me, I had a pretty good night last night. Went on a date with an English dude. We met up at Starbucks, hit it off really well, went to this 50s style diner for milkshakes which was kind of adorable and perfect, walked around until we happened to be walking by his place. I did go up. I am glad I did.

We didn't have sex, but we made out for over two hours and he fingered me until I came three times. He would not allow me to do anything to him to make him come until I was thoroughly exhausted, telling me he got off on watching me come - that is so not a problem with me. And he definitely made me come! He takes direction very well. Also, during the course of this, we also talked about everything - how his previous girlfriends have been fairly g-rated, how my sex life in comparison has been very not, how many people we've slept with, what our fantasies are, what is the craziest thing we've ever done... After I felt too sensitive for further... probing... I gave him a nice, sloppy blowjob and he was kind enough not to come in my mouth. I really don't mind if a guy comes in my mouth - and in fact I really like it if I really like the guy. But it seemed courteous, somehow, especially on a first date...

After that, he drove me home. I am really surprised at how much I liked him. I didn't expect to find a guy on a dating site I would like as much - or laugh with as much. And I definitely didn't expect to go that far on a first date, but... I'm glad I did.

F.U.I.

by Disco

Intoxicated sex... I can tell you a really gnarly story about this one.

Back when I was dating George (which, if you read this post you'll know I was never actually interested in him but instead was semi-pressured/fairly-disturbed at the time) I had a night where I drank too much vodka. Honestly, this was the second time this had happened and I ended up in the bathroom, on the floor, passing out - this is where the fucked up part starts coming in - praying no one would find me so that I could die there. When someone did find me and the ambulance staff arrived, I was too drunk to speak, to do anything to show how I was feeling except scream. That was all I could do. I wanted to tell them, calmly, leave me alone, just put me in my room and leave me alone, I'm fine - but I wasn't able to. I could just scream bloody murder and try to get away from them.

Somewhere in there I passed out and puked a lot of blood and a few hours later I woke up. George witnessed all of this, along with our friend - who I was actually in love with at the time, and who was a very sweet man to me (in fact we later went hitch hiking together) and who I actually wanted to be my boyfriend, not George... not George at all.

But what disturbs me is that George saw all of this. He and the other boy came to the hospital in the ambulance with me, saw me puking blood and vomit, bleeding from the IV, crying, passing out - and hours upon hours later when I woke up and was discharged we went back to his room because nobody wanted to leave me alone, and I tried to go to sleep...

And George coerced me into giving him a blowjob.

Fresh from the blood & vomit campaign, still smelling of it, blood spatters caked on my arms, he had me give him a blowjob, and I hated myself enough that I didn't care anymore, and I did.

One of the worst nights of my life I can remember - so ridiculously sordid. But now that I've gotten that out of the way, and keeping in mind that my first encounter with George, which you can see in the previous post, was also an intoxicated encounter you shall know that sometimes intoxicated sex is a very, very bad idea. It has everything to do with how you feel about yourself, though, because...

During my relationship with Jack, we would sometimes go out drinking together and for a very brief period we smoked weed together (but the ultimate decision was that we didn't like it, as it didn't mesh well with my depression and his aversion to all drugs in an attempt to stay clean from one particular drug he had been addicted to years ago.) When I drink -only a small few and not enough to get me hospitalized - I get very horny and I am also inclined to having a more open mind, like anybody else. And therefore, especially during the beginning stages when my body was still very closed off and I was still very wary about sexual encounters, sex with Disco when she'd had a few was the best sex. And to this day it probably still is. I still love having a few drinks, going home and sending Jack naughty messages. Just-barely drunken horniness and sex can be some of the best and I totally reccomend it, while keeping in mind how it all depends on how you feel about the person you're with but mostly how you feel about yourself. You have to trust yourself, above anything. If you trust yourself, you're free.

Attachment

by Disco

This past week I have branched out into new men in ways I hadn't yet since my breakup. One of them might be alright, the other one is definitely blowing up in my face...

I met a dude on a website and after much flirting I finally gave him my cell number to text. We got to texting and right away it was cybering. For the first 10 minutes or so, the stuff he was telling me was really hot - and I am trying to get more into the kink scene, and he is a dom - but then he just went way too far for me. It was a total turn off. Not that it's all stuff I wld never try, but it's all stuff that I wld need a lot more priming for. It's actually 95% stuff I wld do for the ex... but just not a stranger... And 5% stuff I so just would not do. I guess it must be a trust issue but if I'm not comfortable then, regardless of the reason - there doesn't have to be a reason, actually. If I'm not comfortable, I'm shutting that shit down.

So I did, I shut him down and said I don't do that, and then today again he came at me and really the stuff he says is hot most of the time, but it's just too fast for me, it scares me off. So I shut him down again! He takes it really well though and is really respectful of it so I'm thinking of sticking along with him and just giving him little 'Do Not Enter' signs every so often.

In other news, I went out last night with a dude from a different dating site. I went to his apartment with a bottle of wine and he'd made this actually pretty good spaghetti with peas and carrots and potatoes in it. He and I hung out for like five hours and he seemed like a really cool guy. We started making out, and he wasn't the best kisser but I've never actually dated a guy who was a really good kisser, unfortunately... The ex definitely improved with time and some direction, which is what I figure any guy can do, but never a great kisser. Anyway, so we made out and then he moved me over to his bed (it was a tiny little studio aparment) and we continued making out there and involved some dry humping and titty sucking but I wouldn't let him go any farther that that - no clothes came off, etc. But somewhere in the middle of all of this he suddenly pulls my face back and goes "I want this to be long term." And it was like "Woaaaaahh, buddy!"

So I got out of there once I mustered up the courage to say I wanted to go home (I fear being rude.) He texted me twice again that night, sent me an FB message, and texted me this morning to tell me to come over. Maybe if I had really liked him, really really, it would have been romantic and everything. But it's not there. The Ex and I have our cyber sex non-relationship within the context of our one-year agreement and I always think to myself, if I wouldn't give that up for a guy, I shouldn't string him along and use him just to hurt him. It's alright if they're out for a fling - like Cyber Sex guy - but not if they want long term. I can't do that right now, at least not for somebody who I'm not into enough to stop comparing them to the Ex all the time and wishing he were there instead (which I was.)

So... that's all for that. Maybe I'm not a sub. Maybe I'm a desperate loser still in love with her Ex (that one's not really a maybe) but at least now I know what I am looking for. A fling. Nothing serious. If it becomes serious, sure, I will go with that. But I don't want that to be expected of me right now. But I do demand a level of courtship purely to develop trust. Maybe I'm not totally out of my Molested-Girl Shell but I can't let somebody touch me without them developing a trusting relationship with me first - regardless of if it's a friendship or just a sexual relationship that's taken quite slowly. That's probably boring - and vanilla - but whatever. If you don't give it to me, I'm shutting you down.

PVC & Marilyn Manson

by Disco

Hey, everybody! This is our first experience post which is not related to the weekly topic. I just wanted to share my experience at my first ever fetish event! A lovely lady mentioned the website Fetlife on her blog about a week ago, and I joined because as I read more and more blogs I am becoming more and more interested in the fetish community. I wanted to attend a munch as my first event but I chickened out, for real. So then a girl on the site wanted to go to this event, which was called Subspace "Fetish Pride" and took place at a club downtown. She didn't want to go alone and so I decided to man up and go.

I went down to a boutique, bought myself a rather sexy very short PVC number which the bartender at the event was quite impressed with, and marched my way down. The girl, it turned out, couldn't get in to the party because she was underage (oops!) and the girl who came with her didn't want to leave her to get home alone. I had spent money on a cab to get there, so I decided I wasn't going to waste it and I went in alone. Honestly, it was tons of fun. It would have been a thousand times more fun if I had known somebody there and not been so alone. It was just a little basement club with a DJ, a small bar, a little coat/bag check area, and an area at the back where girls were being whipped and spanked as they chose. I only stayed a couple hours because it honestly got a little boring being there by myself - I tried to make friends with one girl, and she was very nice, but I lost her and she never came around again.

They scheduled a type of show at midnight and I stayed until close to one A.M. and never saw such a thing but that's alright. They played a lot of good music (Depeche Mode, Marilyn Manson remixes, Peaches...) and everybody looked very sexy. It was honestly a pretty comfortable, welcoming environment. It definitely got my feet wet and I am now excited to start attending more and different kinds of fetish events, although I am still really, really uneducated about much of it. I am very excited about learning and excited/nervous to get my hands dirty, for sure!

Textuality

by Disco

My experience with photo sharing/sexting/phone sex/&c. has thus far only been with one person. And so I think it's time I told the story of the man I will call Jack.

I fell in love with Jack in December of 2008. Jack fell in love with me in February of 2009. We dated until April 2009, and broke up, then reunited until I believe January 2010, when we broke up again. And then! Reunited again! [Yes, we're one of those] until Jack fell out of love with me in March 2010. Well, I say that, but he said he didn't know how he felt. Which is what had happened back in April 2009 - and seems to happen when he gets very overwhelmed with other areas of his life.

It was awful, we both cried, I didn't really talk to him for two months. Then, his graduation. I went to his graduation because I had made the promise to, and I went to the little cocktail party he had afterward with his family and some of our friends. I had to leave to the bathroom over and over, crying, and eventually he came back and told me to come up in a couple days and we'll talk about everything before he left (he moved back to British Columbia.) I went up that day, May 22nd, and we made a deal to 'try to try again' in a year. We also had great sex.

The thing is, the sex part hasn't stopped since that day. We have had phone sex twice since then, we've had numerous cyber sex encounters, and several picture exchanges including a promise of pictures for his birthday which I am considering backing out of... But here you can see the context of my experiences with technosex.

Since I began going to school, and he began working, we hardly ever talk to each other. And I now realise I was totally attached to our non-physical sexual relationship. Even if I knew I had no claim to him emotionally, and no real claim to his monogamy physically, I knew he wanted me. I still know he wants me - he makes it rather plain - but the long periods without talking make it feel like... I don't know. It's a confusing situation.

I will admit that over a summer period when he went back to BC and I was still on the other side of the country, we also took part in a NPS relationship and it was great. I'm definitely not saying that it's not awesome.

But I am saying that it can carry the same emotional baggage and can create the same emotional baggage as regular sexual encounters, in my opinion. Sex is, to most people, intimate. Maybe not romantically intimate but it's something you don't share with everybody. A certain level of trust is involved - and especially when you're sharing pictures and the like with somebody who could use those to expose you anytime down the line in your career or marriage or anything. So... obviously these girls were right - the lovely Glitterbella and XTC let me know they thought my continuing of the sexual side of my relationship was a big mistake - but am I going to stop? I don't know.

I do want to stop scratching this scab and let that wound heal. But more than that, I love him and I don't want to lose him for good.

Edit: Talked to Jack since making this post, we've cleared the air and I feel alright about the situation again. Also, we then had really good cyber sex. Gotta go change my sheets!

Tango No. 1

By Disco

My first time... Alright.

My first time I was fifteen years old. I was going to go visit my dad with a friend of mine, I lived in Canada, she lived in Maine, and my dad lived in Texas. I went down for the weekend to my friend's place in Maine before we flew to Texas. That weekend, she had a boy over for the night - I'll call him Frankie. My friend had a major crush on Frankie, but he became much more interested in me and we fooled around when she was out of the room. But, I didn't want to lose my virginity, I had wanted to wait at least a couple more years.

Then, the two of us went to Texas and it was very dramatic. My father is highly emotionally/psychologically abusive and she saw that for the first time (thus beginning to understand me,) and then I was molested by his then-'boyfriend' (a straight man who had sex with him in exchange for being bought alcohol) in a pool.

So, reeling from lack of control in all of these situations, we go back to Maine and I decide I must take control of what people do to my body. I must have the say in who touches me where, and when I want to do what. I just needed to do something to assert some kind of control. So I got Frankie to sleep with me, because I thought it was my decision and I had the control.

We didn't use a condom. We were interrupted three times by her mother. We never even took our clothes off, he just pushed my panties to one side. Worst of all, there was cat hair everywhere and it kept getting on our mouths and eyes... I regretted it immediately afterward and did not have sex again until...

I went to university. I got high. I got drunk. I fucked a guy, we'll call him George. George fell madly in love with me after this - I woke up the next day like 'God, I had sex with George? What the fuck?' I thought nothing else would happen.

For the record, I was also in a very very disturbed mental state, this is around the time I hardly ever left my room, I wrote on my walls during panic attacks, I was still a cutter, I had attempted suicide a couple times, I thought everybody hated me - I was in a bad way.

So George falls madly in love with me, and two mutual friends begin begging me on his behalf to give him a chance and date him, please, won't I, please, he really likes you, and blah blah. I felt like they were saying, we're his friends, not yours, we care how he feels, not you, and we won't be your friends if you don't do this. So I did it.

After I started dating him, I found out I took his virginity - something I told myself I would never do to somebody - and he had had a girlfriend at the time and left her to be with me. Our relationship was miserable, barely lasted, and I wish I had been a stronger person at the time to tell these people to fuck off. I tried very hard to feel a connection to him, I tried everything I could to forge one and I couldn't. So, I broke it off. He didn't speak to me for three months.

So, that's how I gave my virginity and took a virginity. I wish I had waited. I wish George hadn't have been such a tool and had waited for his own girlfriend, who he later went back to. Basically, I think losing your virginity should be like getting a tattoo. Think about it, think about it hard and for a long time and remember that this memory, and this person, is going to be a part of you for the rest of your life. Make it worth it. Don't lose your virginity because you don't want to be the last one left, or because you just want to start having sex, as opposed to being in a relationship or love. Do it because it means something, because no matter what, it's going to be a meaningful moment that you have to carry forever. Don't rush into it.