I'm a writer. Or at least, I try to be. At least once a day I pull up a manuscript on my handy dandy computer and stare at it, trying to make more words appear with the sheer power of my mind. Quite often, it works, but there are some days when the amount--and quality--is pretty pathetic.
Right now I'm working on a story idea that I love. And yet, each paragraph is taking me about a year as I look over it and go "no, that's not quite right...maybe if I--huh." It's like pulling your own teeth at the dentist while heavily anesthetized.
I'm thinking that what I may need is more fuel. But what is fuel for a writer? Bagels and coffee? Worry? These usually work for me, but today, not so much. I think what I need is to read more.
There are some horrifying statistics out there on reading. For example, 1/3 of the people who graduate from high school never read a book again. 42% of college graduates don't read after they close their last textbook. While I'm an English major, who's probably going to make reading and writing into some part of my career, I'm worried by the idea that I'll never read just for funsies again.
So I'm reading. I'm easing myself in with a new book by an author I like, and then I'm going to read Water for Elephants, which I understand was written during National Novel Writing Month (always one of my peak periods of productivity. More on that at some point.) After that, I'm wondering what's next. I just finished Beloved by Toni Morrison, which was apparently inspired by Faulkner's writing, so maybe that's a place to go.
How do you choose a book to read for fun? Until this year I had a lot of disdain for reading books for their "literary merit" rather than for sheer enjoyment, but I had an English professor who turned this opinion on its head: who says that literary reading isn't pleasurable, or that fun reading can't be literary? It was so simple that it bowled me over. So, my new quest: to savor difficult books, and look for the complexity in apparently "fun" ones.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
What what? (Sexual Content)
So it turns out that when you separate me and Tim for three weeks and we don't get to have sex, when we come back together we do EVERYTHING. In our first 24 hours together we've had sex five times and knocked a whole litany of things off of the List. This afternoon we did a schoolgirl roleplay where I was the good little Catholic girl and he was the dirty headmaster. I told him I was a virgin and he accused me of touching the other girls. It was so wicked and cute at the same time.
My hopes for the evening were pretty specific. Tim is pretty touchy about taking anything up the ass, but it's one of those things that I find incredibly hot. He's pretty much always worried about poop, which I suppose is a valid fear, but today he agreed to let me use some anal beads on him. I think that purchasing him a black face-mounted dildo clinched the deal. (Oh, kinky Christmas gifts...)
After we got back from our sex shop run, after a lot of getting up, going to the bathroom, sitting back down, getting up and getting water, and every other distraction I could think of, I got him naked and curled up behind him under the blankets with my arms around his waist. I got out some anal beads we'd bought a while ago and never used.
"You want to do it like this?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he said. Tentative, nervous. I like that.
I spread his ass cheeks and pushed the first bead inside. This convulsive shiver went through him and I stroked his back, told him how good he was. Then I reached down and did another, and another.
"Stop there for now," he said. He had that tone in his voice that he uses when he's feeling submissive, soft and gentle and sweet. It makes me want to do awful things to him.
I wrapped one arm back around his waist and grabbed his cock with the other. He was rock hard, which normally doesn't happen when I play with his ass.
"Oh my god," I said. "You like this, don't you? You little slut."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. He was gasping; I've never seen anything like it. "Yes, yes. Your little whore."
"Can you take more?"
"I think so."
I slid the next three beads in, and he groaned and rubbed his ass up against me. It turned me on to see him thrashing, grinding, begging, filled up.
I flipped him over and he tried to jerk off but I slapped his hand away.
"No," I said. "I want to fuck you."
"Oh, please," he said. "Please fuck me."
Where's a condom when you need one? I fished around in the sex box and finally came out with one, ripped open the packaging, and unrolled it onto his cock while he thrust his hips up and down. I pulled up my skirt and slid myself down onto him. I hadn't realized until then how wet I was.
Now, in order to fully appreciate what happened next, you should know that while Tim is a brave man, he's been very hesitant about his ass, especially my ultimate hope for it: fucking it with a strap-on--and more than that, he doesn't usually like the idea of gender play. So what happened next was pretty extraordinary.
"Oh, God!" He thrust up into me from underneath. "Oh god, oh--we're going to buy you a strap-on, and you're going to fuck me in the ass, and I'm going to suck your big cock!"
I concur.
My hopes for the evening were pretty specific. Tim is pretty touchy about taking anything up the ass, but it's one of those things that I find incredibly hot. He's pretty much always worried about poop, which I suppose is a valid fear, but today he agreed to let me use some anal beads on him. I think that purchasing him a black face-mounted dildo clinched the deal. (Oh, kinky Christmas gifts...)
After we got back from our sex shop run, after a lot of getting up, going to the bathroom, sitting back down, getting up and getting water, and every other distraction I could think of, I got him naked and curled up behind him under the blankets with my arms around his waist. I got out some anal beads we'd bought a while ago and never used.
"You want to do it like this?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he said. Tentative, nervous. I like that.
I spread his ass cheeks and pushed the first bead inside. This convulsive shiver went through him and I stroked his back, told him how good he was. Then I reached down and did another, and another.
"Stop there for now," he said. He had that tone in his voice that he uses when he's feeling submissive, soft and gentle and sweet. It makes me want to do awful things to him.
I wrapped one arm back around his waist and grabbed his cock with the other. He was rock hard, which normally doesn't happen when I play with his ass.
"Oh my god," I said. "You like this, don't you? You little slut."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. He was gasping; I've never seen anything like it. "Yes, yes. Your little whore."
"Can you take more?"
"I think so."
I slid the next three beads in, and he groaned and rubbed his ass up against me. It turned me on to see him thrashing, grinding, begging, filled up.
I flipped him over and he tried to jerk off but I slapped his hand away.
"No," I said. "I want to fuck you."
"Oh, please," he said. "Please fuck me."
Where's a condom when you need one? I fished around in the sex box and finally came out with one, ripped open the packaging, and unrolled it onto his cock while he thrust his hips up and down. I pulled up my skirt and slid myself down onto him. I hadn't realized until then how wet I was.
Now, in order to fully appreciate what happened next, you should know that while Tim is a brave man, he's been very hesitant about his ass, especially my ultimate hope for it: fucking it with a strap-on--and more than that, he doesn't usually like the idea of gender play. So what happened next was pretty extraordinary.
"Oh, God!" He thrust up into me from underneath. "Oh god, oh--we're going to buy you a strap-on, and you're going to fuck me in the ass, and I'm going to suck your big cock!"
I concur.
Friday, January 1, 2010
The (Second) List Arriveth
This is Tim's list of things to do in 2010. Some of them may have been influenced by talking to me, but I'm kind of surprised by how much they overlap. And I think this proves that he's as inventive as I am, and probably way kinkier--a point of much personal dispute. Enjoy.
TIM'S LIST
Get seduced/sexually distracted away from a game.
Teacher Student role play we did that freaked me out
Sitting in a chair. Why haven't we done that yet?
Prostate milking
Anal sex by both parties (not at the same time)
Clothed female nude male
I want to be a doctor or scientist and get to experiment on you
Rape you
Drug&rape me (alcohol will work for "drug"). Just taken advantage of when I am not all there mentally.
I want to have sex in a field. Like of flowers or wheat or something. Or in a forrest. Either/or
A whole day of you being the dominant one, not limited to sexual or non-sexual. Like a whole day.
Same as above, but opposite roles.
Angry sex. Or simulated angry sex. Something along those lines, I want to try it. This might go in to the whole "me raping you" thing.
Minor suspension bondage. If we can't find a place/way to do this, then we won't worry about it though.
School girl roleplay.
I want to be the dirty uncle/priest/teacher/authority figure
Somebody else watching. Either from a video tape or in the room or something.
Hot wax or hot glue gun
Some sort of interrogation scene.
To be quite honest, just reading this list makes me want to fuck him in at least three of the ways listed all at once. Sunday cannot possibly come fast enough.
TIM'S LIST
Get seduced/sexually distracted away from a game.
Teacher Student role play we did that freaked me out
Sitting in a chair. Why haven't we done that yet?
Prostate milking
Anal sex by both parties (not at the same time)
Clothed female nude male
I want to be a doctor or scientist and get to experiment on you
Rape you
Drug&rape me (alcohol will work for "drug"). Just taken advantage of when I am not all there mentally.
I want to have sex in a field. Like of flowers or wheat or something. Or in a forrest. Either/or
A whole day of you being the dominant one, not limited to sexual or non-sexual. Like a whole day.
Same as above, but opposite roles.
Angry sex. Or simulated angry sex. Something along those lines, I want to try it. This might go in to the whole "me raping you" thing.
Minor suspension bondage. If we can't find a place/way to do this, then we won't worry about it though.
School girl roleplay.
I want to be the dirty uncle/priest/teacher/authority figure
Somebody else watching. Either from a video tape or in the room or something.
Hot wax or hot glue gun
Some sort of interrogation scene.
To be quite honest, just reading this list makes me want to fuck him in at least three of the ways listed all at once. Sunday cannot possibly come fast enough.
The List Arriveth
Ah, the first of the year. The time for epic resolutions, new beginnings, and watching the relationships in my family devolve into petty squabbling over the TV remote. (Seriously, grownups?)
As it is the first of the year, I'm going to post my epic list of things I want to do in bed in the coming year. Other lists may follow soon, including the ten books I want to read in 2010, but this list has been formulating for a long time and gets priority. Greta Christina has a great list over at Blowfish of her sexual resolutions as well. Hers are more broad principles to apply, whereas mine are pretty specific. So without further ado, let me present to you--the list.
THINGS TO DO IN BED IN 2010
1. Sleep with a woman
This has been big on my to-do list since my sophomore year of high school, when I licked birthday cake off of the face of a six foot tall bisexual German Amazon. Now, thanks to Tim, it looks like it may actually happen.
2. Take the submissive role in a teacher-student roleplay
This is something I've wanted to happen for a long time; in fact, it was the first "kinky" thing I ever tried to talk someone into doing with me. It's high time it happened.
3. Fuck, and be fucked, in the ass
Tim and I have been dancing around this for a long time. It's happening, dammit.
4. Be worshiped.
This ought to be fun, in a practically vanilla kind of way. I want to be bathed, pampered, and fussed over, brought grapes and drinks and basically adored, all while being scornful and dismissive myself.
5. Do some medical roleplay
Rubber gloves, sponge baths, and maybe some "tests." Yes.
6. Make a porn.
What more explanation do you need?
7. Get more aggressive with hurting Tim
He can handle more, and I need to stop being such a wuss about it. Included in this is greater psychological suspense. He handled the last scene so well that I think I can definitely push him farther.
8. Get tied up and "molested."
We've played with this a little, but never for more than a few minutes. I'd like at least a half an hour of it.
9. Have semi-public sex of some kind.
A bathroom in a cafe? The pretty secluded roof of the building next to mine? Watch this space for further developments.
10. Go to at least one kinky or fetish event.
I'll probably be doing this one without Tim, because he's a pretty shy and private person, but I want to get out there and meet some other kinky people and see if there's something there for me. A good friend of mine has some contacts he's willing to help me explore.
And that's about it for my list. When Tim gets around to e-mailing me his, it'll go up too. Until then--imaginary readers, feel free to chime in with your lists for the new year, sexual or otherwise.
As it is the first of the year, I'm going to post my epic list of things I want to do in bed in the coming year. Other lists may follow soon, including the ten books I want to read in 2010, but this list has been formulating for a long time and gets priority. Greta Christina has a great list over at Blowfish of her sexual resolutions as well. Hers are more broad principles to apply, whereas mine are pretty specific. So without further ado, let me present to you--the list.
THINGS TO DO IN BED IN 2010
1. Sleep with a woman
This has been big on my to-do list since my sophomore year of high school, when I licked birthday cake off of the face of a six foot tall bisexual German Amazon. Now, thanks to Tim, it looks like it may actually happen.
2. Take the submissive role in a teacher-student roleplay
This is something I've wanted to happen for a long time; in fact, it was the first "kinky" thing I ever tried to talk someone into doing with me. It's high time it happened.
3. Fuck, and be fucked, in the ass
Tim and I have been dancing around this for a long time. It's happening, dammit.
4. Be worshiped.
This ought to be fun, in a practically vanilla kind of way. I want to be bathed, pampered, and fussed over, brought grapes and drinks and basically adored, all while being scornful and dismissive myself.
5. Do some medical roleplay
Rubber gloves, sponge baths, and maybe some "tests." Yes.
6. Make a porn.
What more explanation do you need?
7. Get more aggressive with hurting Tim
He can handle more, and I need to stop being such a wuss about it. Included in this is greater psychological suspense. He handled the last scene so well that I think I can definitely push him farther.
8. Get tied up and "molested."
We've played with this a little, but never for more than a few minutes. I'd like at least a half an hour of it.
9. Have semi-public sex of some kind.
A bathroom in a cafe? The pretty secluded roof of the building next to mine? Watch this space for further developments.
10. Go to at least one kinky or fetish event.
I'll probably be doing this one without Tim, because he's a pretty shy and private person, but I want to get out there and meet some other kinky people and see if there's something there for me. A good friend of mine has some contacts he's willing to help me explore.
And that's about it for my list. When Tim gets around to e-mailing me his, it'll go up too. Until then--imaginary readers, feel free to chime in with your lists for the new year, sexual or otherwise.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Five Days: Or, The List Cometh, 2.0
I haven't been posting as much as I'd like, mostly because there's not that much to post. Spending the holidays with my folks means that I haven't seen Tim in way long, which means that my sex life is pretty much imaginary. The List, epic work that it is, continues to quietly grow in a document named 2010 Classwork. And I'm getting ready to see Tim in five days. My folks are dropping me off in my City, and I'm going to straighten out my apartment, see a few friends, and get started checking off the List items.
It's been a rougher month than I expected it to be, and I find myself getting pretty cranky over missing Tim--something which never really happened in other relationships. Over at Sugarbutch Chronicles (), Mr. Sinclair Sexsmith is giving his (her? hir?) girlfriend "homework", an interesting concept to me, especially since this summer, Tim and I might end up at opposite ends of the planet for a month or so.I hate the idea of us coming together only briefly during the summer, and finding in late August that we have no idea where we are sexually anymore. Being able to assign each other sexual tasks might make it easier to keep us on the same page, connecting our two (currently separate) sex lives in the same way that talking runs a thread between our daily lives.
None of this is stuff I've had to worry about in previous relationships, even long-distance ones, because they were held together mostly with old chewing gum anyway. Unhappiness was a standard feature. My past relationships were like rental cars; I just sort of assumed they could drive over anything. But with Tim, even scratching the metaphorical paint worries me--enough that I, incorrigible pedestrian, have resorted to car metaphors. The problem with having nice things is having to worry about them, which I hate, and take care of them--which, it turns out, is more pleasurable than I ever thought it would be.
So that's my state of mind. The List may be spiraling a little, as my fevered imagination throws things onto it that I'm not sure are possible. For example, getting fucked in the ass with a vibrator, which sounds fantastic in theory but which in real life may end in "ow, ow, no, ow..." But it's never hurt me before to set my sights a little high. Every time I've been a little ambitious--in my writing, in my classes, in my dating--it's been greatly rewarded.
It's been a rougher month than I expected it to be, and I find myself getting pretty cranky over missing Tim--something which never really happened in other relationships. Over at Sugarbutch Chronicles (), Mr. Sinclair Sexsmith is giving his (her? hir?) girlfriend "homework", an interesting concept to me, especially since this summer, Tim and I might end up at opposite ends of the planet for a month or so.I hate the idea of us coming together only briefly during the summer, and finding in late August that we have no idea where we are sexually anymore. Being able to assign each other sexual tasks might make it easier to keep us on the same page, connecting our two (currently separate) sex lives in the same way that talking runs a thread between our daily lives.
None of this is stuff I've had to worry about in previous relationships, even long-distance ones, because they were held together mostly with old chewing gum anyway. Unhappiness was a standard feature. My past relationships were like rental cars; I just sort of assumed they could drive over anything. But with Tim, even scratching the metaphorical paint worries me--enough that I, incorrigible pedestrian, have resorted to car metaphors. The problem with having nice things is having to worry about them, which I hate, and take care of them--which, it turns out, is more pleasurable than I ever thought it would be.
So that's my state of mind. The List may be spiraling a little, as my fevered imagination throws things onto it that I'm not sure are possible. For example, getting fucked in the ass with a vibrator, which sounds fantastic in theory but which in real life may end in "ow, ow, no, ow..." But it's never hurt me before to set my sights a little high. Every time I've been a little ambitious--in my writing, in my classes, in my dating--it's been greatly rewarded.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Christmas a la My Family
So yesterday morning I woke up to the cats fighting and my brother yelling at me that it was Christmas, and it was time to get up. I'd stayed up until four in the morning, so I was pretty groggy, but I gamely stumbled down the stairs, expecting to see my whole family downstairs already. Nope. My brother just woke me up half an hour before anyone else was awake.
When everyone else eventually got downstairs, we unwrapped our stacks of stuff. I got a whole ton of knee socks, the plaid ones of which immediately made me think of schoolgirl roleplay (so cute!), as well as a spindle for making my own yarn and a whole slew of little gizmos that I never knew I needed but are bound to be a big part of my life. Oh, and the quintessential chocolate orange.
My brother put on his Christmas CD of Metal Ballads, and we ate our breakfast sausage rolls to the sounds of Kiss singing about eternal love--no Bing Crosby in this house. After a while we went to my uncle's house, where we ate dinner and watched my cousins hit each other with their body pillows from the Costco. This raises an interesting question: why did these kids want body pillows? Is this some trend that I'm not aware of? After dinner, I lounged around on the couch reading Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs while my dad napped. Limited "family time"? Check. Relaxing? Check. I don't know why anyone would do Christmas any other way.
Although the highlight of the evening definitely came after we got home. My dad and brother and I were all downstairs in the living room when we heard a thud from upstairs. I'm used to thuds because my downstairs neighbor has a drinking problem and falls down a lot, but my dad was immediately alert.
There was a long silence, and then: "Honeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
He was up on his feet before the call even stopped. He hopped over the coffee table and ran up the stairs, leaving behind a small Road-Runner style dust cloud.
My mom had fallen off a stool while doing leg stretches. When my dad took her to the emergency room this morning, it turned out that she'd broken her foot.
Baby Jesus? We're sorry we didn't celebrate your birthday to your liking. But this is just a little vindictive.
When everyone else eventually got downstairs, we unwrapped our stacks of stuff. I got a whole ton of knee socks, the plaid ones of which immediately made me think of schoolgirl roleplay (so cute!), as well as a spindle for making my own yarn and a whole slew of little gizmos that I never knew I needed but are bound to be a big part of my life. Oh, and the quintessential chocolate orange.
My brother put on his Christmas CD of Metal Ballads, and we ate our breakfast sausage rolls to the sounds of Kiss singing about eternal love--no Bing Crosby in this house. After a while we went to my uncle's house, where we ate dinner and watched my cousins hit each other with their body pillows from the Costco. This raises an interesting question: why did these kids want body pillows? Is this some trend that I'm not aware of? After dinner, I lounged around on the couch reading Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs while my dad napped. Limited "family time"? Check. Relaxing? Check. I don't know why anyone would do Christmas any other way.
Although the highlight of the evening definitely came after we got home. My dad and brother and I were all downstairs in the living room when we heard a thud from upstairs. I'm used to thuds because my downstairs neighbor has a drinking problem and falls down a lot, but my dad was immediately alert.
There was a long silence, and then: "Honeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
He was up on his feet before the call even stopped. He hopped over the coffee table and ran up the stairs, leaving behind a small Road-Runner style dust cloud.
My mom had fallen off a stool while doing leg stretches. When my dad took her to the emergency room this morning, it turned out that she'd broken her foot.
Baby Jesus? We're sorry we didn't celebrate your birthday to your liking. But this is just a little vindictive.
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