Pausing to sip some wine, while cooking thanksgiving dinner, hands slip around my waist. Drifting past the sweep of hair pulled into a bun, his stubble and hot breath graze my ear. He gropes my breasts through the purple polka dotted 50's frock to slide under a floral apron and press between my thighs.
I'm bent over the mattress, puling the sheets into order, pink panties flashing up at the door way. I hear him enter and flash a startled look. "You always turn around when I walk past, like you're expecting a spank." And I do, and he doesn't let me down, so I continue to expect spanks every time he walks past.
While cross referencing recipes online, the sun beams through the window right on me. He peaks in on me from the hallway, I peak back. "You're such a flirt, you know that?" "Between the sun, and the oven, it's getting hot in here." "You should take off that dress."
I turn away, and slowly pull the apron sash away from my waist. He sees the edge of the buttons being undone. I let the shoulders drop. lower. "You have a gorgeous back" The dress drops from my frame and gets tossed to the side.
The coy facade buckles and I sprint, giggling into to his arms.
"It's too bad we're back on condoms, I'm ready to fuck you right now."
"That's absurd, I can't be ready so quickly."
He laughs "I can get you wet in 17 seconds."
Consequently I retort, "Go ahead."
He confidently appraises me; wasting precious seconds. He deftly scoops me up and when our tongues slide together I become instantly aroused. We lock eyes, mine are defiant.
He reaches up and grabs hold of my neck leaning me into the wall. "That's cheating." I moan. He trails a hand down my chest, stomach and down into my crotch. My panties are damp.
Less then 17 seconds, we both know he's won. He pulls back.
"It's not cheating," he says as he strolls away.
Then smirking over his shoulder at the flushed woman against the wall, and adds "It's knowing your opponent."
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I've been giving a lot of thought to the recent events. Simply regaling you with my sultry tales of seduction wasn't why I started this blog. The hope is to inform, inspire, and reflect on what has been learned.
People who read this blog and then get to know me always have some rather odd misgivings about me. Trust me, you won't hear me wail "I'm so misunderstood!" Self identifying as a slut is, to me, a feminist statement. It shows strength of conviction and a lack of shame. That said I always burn red when someone mentions they've read my blog. I write these thinking no one I meet would ever happen upon the site.
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People assume I'm after hot sex with stunners (sometimes I am, tee hee!). But more then that I'm attracted to someone's ideas, and their capacity to challenge my convictions. When people have seen my site it's is sometimes admitted (which I appreciate), or sometimes coyly concealed. But when someone I have not as of yet confided in, assumes I'm a nympho, it's glaringly obvious they've only heard part of the story.
When I mentioned that I'd had a bad weekend because I broke up with a girlfriend because her emotions seemed to get out of hand. A reader identified himself by replying "That's because you're only in it for the sex right?"
I was taken aback as quite the opposite is true. What I feel for this woman is far more then physical attraction. If anything I was more attracted to her disposition, interests and philosophy, then her body.
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"What do you like about so and so?"
I list our common interests, and what I admire about them.
Very often I answer this question with one or more of the following:
-They are a poet! They therefore must have emotional depth.
-They are a geek/dork/weirdo/of questionable mental stability. Therefore there must be something that makes them special and sets them apart from the mundane drones of this world.
-They carry an obsession for a bizarre hobby. They therefore are passionate.
-They create beautiful music. They therefore are soulful.
-They are a scientist. They therefore posses a superior intelligence.
-They look or act unconventionally. (dreads, suspenders, clashing colours. Have a habit of climbing trees or dancing in public) They therefore are interesting.
-They are philosophers. They therefore are enlightened.
-They are into the Fetish scene. They therefore must be sexually compatible with me.
-They dress or act androgynously. They therefore exist outside of the gender binary and must be accepting and open minded.
-They are polyamorous. They therefore understand how I expect to be treated.
As you can see, liking someone for these reasons is possibly as shallow as liking them purely for their looks. I make assumptions about people's personalities based on their interests. It has been said that I often try to validate my physical attraction to someone by inventing reasons to like them. This argues that I am in fact still shallow. Perhaps it's true, I develop crushes before truly understanding someone. It's embarrassing to be a slave to these girlish whims of mine.
(For the next bit, the "He" is to avoid writing (s)he, they etc.)
"He's an open minded hippie, who challenges the status quo. His poetry brought a tear to my eye." These are pretty shallow thoughts. What I'm really saying is He's hot in the weird semi-unnatractive way that I like.
But we all hold different values. Perhaps I value inane qualities in people just like everyone else. Some people like each other for reasons like; they dress well, own a nice car etc... Only I get fluttery when I hear the words cross-dress, progressive metal, quantum physics and cogito ergo sum.
It's not what we have in common that I like. It's what we disagree on, because therein lies the conversation.
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Shared interests and admirable qualities aside, a truly striking moment is one in which I realize we have so much to learn from each other.
I want to make him laugh and ask him questions. I want to play with him, because of two reasons.
1. He's ugly-sexy. This is the kind of person that isn't immediately attractive. If anything they have odd features. But what makes them sexy is their spark, or spirit (or personality, duh!). I have never once fallen for anyone who was classically beautiful, it's the strange ones I'm drawn to. If someone is beautiful inside, then you associate their features with their personality, and the body becomes beautiful.
2. I perceive him to have depth. The peculiarities of his mind intrigue and enchant. Also he's bizarre enough himself to observe the qualities that truly make me unique and wonderful.
When I am interested in someone what I want out of knowing this person is not sex. Sex is one of many ways of further understanding and pleasuring this person.
To convey how I feel about my lovers (and friends) my outlook on life must be delved into a bit. It seems that we are born into the universe, which is for the most part little more then rocks, heat and empty space. We are not given an evident purpose. So life consists of milling around and doing things to continue living.
What makes life interesting are the lives all around us. Meeting another person is kind of like meeting an alien. To have the chance to get to know another person "very well" seems profound to me.
Discovery is the most logical pursuit, and that one of the more important things worth discovering is other people.
I want to discover fascinating, strange and beautiful people.
For me, polyamory is just another way of saying every person in my life is an adventure and a mystery. Sometimes there is mutual attraction that is acted on. Having sex is an extension of play and discovery. In the best of situations I feel as if I am showing a great deal of trust and emotional receptiveness. I don't delineate friends and lovers nearly as much as anyone would expect.
I don't have sex to get off.
I have sex out of curiosity and benevolence. I want a multifaceted, growing person to surrender to my touch. In their moment of vulnerability, I want to give them pleasure. This is a form of intimacy to me. I want to look into his eyes as he cums and touch the tiniest piece of a beautiful mystery.
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