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.

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?