Diary of An Unrepentant Sex Addict

Hat Trick Of Sorts

2008-03-03T06:25:00.002-08:00

(As a bit of an offset to the navel-gazing of the previous post...)

Speaking of "threes", I managed a bit of a "hat trick" of sorts this last Friday night: three orgasms in the span of 90 minutes or so. Considering I was just three days away from turning 40, and that I'm in terrible shape still, that's no mean feat.

I'd started the evening by hooking up with someone off of Craigslist. Went over to his place, and got a pretty decent BJ. Then, even though he had made it clear that he wasn't expecting reciprocation, I figured I could use more practice so I returned the favor. Thing is, I noticed that I had never really gone soft after my orgasm. He noticed this, too, and we ended by both jerking off. There was some hot porn on the TV, and it was generally just a pretty good scene overall.

Then I went home, and realized I was still about half-hard, so I figured why not try? I pulled up some favorite video clips from YouPorn (which I like because they give you download-links for the clips, so you can save your own copies of the ones you like the most). Next thing I know, I'm shooting a third time. I honestly can't remember the last time I was able to do that (maybe at the end of the "33 Days" experiment last year, I'm not sure).

I sure felt young again, I say that much!

-D

Three Years and Counting

2008-03-03T05:43:00.004-08:00

In 2005, I purposefully chose to start this blog on my own birthday. That way, I knew that I'd never forget the blog-birthday. (Though, to be fair, I did forget to mark it one year.)

So, here I am, three years on, and the last year has been an especially trying one. I've come the closest yet towards feeling shame towards these traits that I'm usually embracing. I mean, I never have felt (nor will I ever feel) guilty over my enjoyment of all things sexual and the pleasure they bring. But the events last November and December really drove home how much I had been lying to myself over so many, many years, as to how much I was likely hurting people around me. Indeed, a hallmark indication of addiction, hurting those you care about without necessarily realizing it (or realizing it and just not acknowledging it). And on top of it all, I was let go from my job towards the end of February, largely because I wasn't performing up to par. So I've been dealt an emotional body-blow by all of this, and just have had next to nothing to blog about. An image I sometimes get in my head, is that of a multi-engine plane that has had most of the engines knocked out of commission... it can still fly, but it's going a heck of a lot slower than it used to, and it takes a lot more conscious effort on the part of the pilot to keep it from completely crashing and burning.

And indeed, as bad as I feel, as bad as I've felt these past months, I haven't completely crashed and burned. It may have felt like it at times, but there are plenty of people in far worse circumstances than I am. I'm just in over my own head, it's a relative measure. And it's been the motivation that I needed to get back into therapy and start trying to actually work some of these things out, rather than just perpetually running in circles. The new shrink is quite good-- that, or my decision to be 100% honest and not dodge or "creatively answer" any questions (like I have done in the past) is making a difference. Probably a combination of the two. Plus, she's much more experienced in dealing with people who suffer from Asperger's (she barely batted an eye the week that I noticed some minute detail had changed in the shelves of toys and games she keeps for her child-clients).

So, anyway, happy birthday to me (40! Freakin' 40!), and happy birthday to Dausa (a paltry 3 by comparison). And thanks to everyone who has commented on my various posts these past months, even the self-loathing ones. Thanks to those of you I chat with from time to time, those who send the occasional encouragement in e-mail (and especially thanks to the person who sent me the Valentine's card... you know who you are!). I'm not going anywhere, I assure you. And someday, hopefully soon, I'll be back to regularly posting naughtiness.

(In fact, I may even make an effort to get laid today. I mean, it is my birthday, after all, right?)

-D

Checking In, Checking Out

2008-02-25T09:24:00.002-08:00

Things are still, well, still. I'm back in therapy, but I can't say that I'm any better yet (not that I have any unrealistic expectations, I mean, it's only been 4 weeks or so). I lost my job, due in large part to the negative effect all this mental/emotional crap has had on my ability to perform. Job-wise, that is. Hell, perform in general. The last couple of times I've been in bed with someone haven't exactly been my best form either.

Even though I'm trying to not let any real length of time go before finding a new job, part of me has a driving desire to get out of the bay area, even if only for a few days. But even that is complicated, as I don't know where to go that's both affordable and offers the promise of a truly stress-free few days. I can't go to Colorado right now... even though the friend who is angry with me would let me visit under the current (jobless) circumstance, I'm not ready myself. Part of me wants to go somewhere completely new, part of me wants the comfort of familiarity. I only know that I'm going nuts here, right now. I haven't slept in, well, a while right now. (I very rarely see 9:30 at all, let alone am blogging at such an hour.) When I close my eyes to try and sleep, well, I'm not really relaxed by what I see there.

It's been almost two months since my last entry. I do take some comfort in knowing that even if I'm not really any "better", I think I'm on track for it. It'll just take a little while yet, and I have to hope that I have the luxury of the time it needs. I dunno... I probably shouldn't be blogging on this sort of sleep-deprivation...

Shaky Start to the New Year

2008-01-06T03:21:00.000-08:00

I'm still trying to adjust to the various fall-out from the events in my previous post. In the two weeks and few days since then, nothing has gotten better. I seriously contemplated having myself admitted for a 72-hour watch, but ultimately personal phobias and demons prevented me from doing so. Instead, I'm making arrangements to return to therapy after an off-period of a little more than two years. On the one hand, I'm not optimistic that it'll be any more effective than it was before. On the other hand, there are two relatively good reasons why it should be better: (1) this person has strong background working with adults who are diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, and (2) part of all of this mess is me finally owning up to my long history of dishonesty. I never lied to a therapist before, but I was frequently "creative" with the information that I volunteered, and minimized things a lot. I can't say that I'll be going in on the first day with absolute 100% full-disclosure, since a lot of this is reflexive in nature. But I will be a lot more straight with this person than with those past.

I still don't know who it was that tipped off my friend in Denver. It's possible that there wasn't a tip-off, that she's saying this to make me think it, knowing that I can't help but obsess over it. Like I said in the last post, having as many lies in my past as I do contributes to paranoia, so it's easier for me to believe that there really are people here acting as friends to my face, but gossiping and belittling me behind me back. I just wish that they would have the decency to either come to me directly about the things they feel are self-destructive, or just quietly exit my life. I'll probably never know who it is, and it will probably bug me for as long as my brain is able to function.

Needless to say, this has really thrown my libido off. So what posts I make for the time being will likely be more backwards-looking. I'm not being all dramatic and proclaiming that I'm "too wounded to love", or even swearing off of sex (not even for another 33 days experiment!). I'm just saying that at the moment I just can't get into it, and lack the drive to pursue it. I have to direct that energy at getting my shit together, again. Of course, if opportunity comes up and grabs me by the ear, I'm not saying I'll turn it down, either...

Lastly (for now), my friend mentioned at several points that my continuing to write this blog is silly and pointless and that the only people reading it were either laughing at me or are/were as pathetic and disgusting as she now considers me to be. She also mentioned that she felt I must want this negative attention to feed my own self-pity, or else I would have shut this down and started a new blog under a different name. Well, all I can say on these counts is this: I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not abandoning this. Even if it reaches the point where I'm the only one reading it. As to the people who currently read, I know she's wrong there-- there are at least a few people reading that I've either met personally or corresponded with. People who are in fact living happy, healthy lives. Happiness and health that I hope one day to have in my life, too. It's worth pointing out that this same person has many times dismissed the notion of people in happy, healthy polyamorous relationships, even though I know literally dozens of people first-hand who themselves are. It doesn't matter how many people I know who are happily poly, she won't believe it. And likewise, it doesn't matter how many people I know (or who respond here) who are readers and who are not here to laugh at what a loser I am or just scour my stories for jerk-off material, she probably won't believe that either.

I have neither delusions of grandeur nor illusions of relevance. But no-one out there launches a web browser only to find themselves forcibly directed to this page. If you don't like what's here, nothing is keeping you here.

Lies and the Lying Liar

2007-12-20T13:04:00.000-08:00

(I almost made "liar" plural, in keeping with the reference to Al Franken's book. But I don't know that I've been lied to, so this is just about the one liar... me.)

I lie a lot. Mostly to myself, of course. I lie about my lying. And after all these years, the scaffolding that holds up my life is collapsing. My Denver friend is through with me, angered and hurt over the event of this post. And with every right-- I lied to her face about it. Of course, I didn't talk about that part of the story in the post. It didn't fit the narrative for one thing, and I had already justified it to myself. Naturally. It's what I do, it's what addicts do.

See, when I went out with that person, my friend was pretty sick. And yet, I borrowed her car to go on a date with the hopes of getting lucky. And when I got back to the house, I lied about having gotten lucky. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. Mind you, it's obvious that my concern for her feelings didn't stop me from going out in the first place. Or renting a room.

What has me feeling a mix of worry, hurt, fear and anger is how she found out. Like most addicts and habitual liars, it's much easier for me to focus on how I was found out, than on my actual level of blame or responsibility in all this. Apparently someone I know, someone close to me, is still in touch with her. They read this, and they called her. I don't know who they are. She won't tell, and whoever it is hasn't seen fit to share with me the fact that they're reading this blog. She sneered at me over the phone as she pointed out that I'm quite findable via Google. This is true, but finding Dausa and finding the real-life person behind him are two different things. I've only given this URL to an extremely small number of people I know in real-life. As in, you could count them on one hand and still have enough fingers to make a rude gesture in England. But it doesn't matter-- what matters is that someone is reading, and that said someone is concerned but not enough so to talk to me directly. She says that whoever it is laughs at me and makes fun of me for these things, behind my back. And the problem with being a habitual liar, you never know for sure when you can really believe someone. Is she trying to lash out at me? Or is she 100% honest, knowing that in this case the truth is just as damaging (if not more) than any lie she could offer?

I use SiteMeter for some simple traffic-analysis. It's not terribly thorough, and there's only so much you can tell from traffic-analysis anyway. I've found the tracking record from her visit a few days ago, but I have no way of really pin-pointing a visitor prior to her, that would likely be the third-party. So I'll never know who it is that's laughing at me behind my back, unless they decide to own up and face me about it. There's some traffic from around here in the bay area, a visit from the Minneapolis area that has a strange feeling to it (because this confrontation started with a seemingly-random question about whether I'd recently heard from someone we used to know, who lived in that area last time I'd had any contact with them), and plenty of traffic that I have no idea of it's relevance (if any).

But back to the lying. This blog is, after all, all about me me me. And much as I've tried to hide it, this is who I am. I started lying extensively when I moved from Arizona to Oklahoma and started living with grandparents who were Evangelical Pentecostals. Fundamentalists, basically. Essentially everything I did was something to be ashamed of, so I learned to lie about almost all of it. And even once I left that house and lived first in dormitories then in my own apartments, I've continued to instinctively lie about anything that brought feelings of shame. And don't be fooled by the "Unrepentant" in the title-- all those years of church-learnin' have made certain that I pretty much always feel shame over anything and everything sexual that I think about, feel, or experience. I've spent gods-know-how-much over nearly 11 years on therapy, and all I have to show for it is a diagnosis of mild Asperger's Syndrome. Which explains some of the social anxiety I experience, but doesn't really cover the shame or the rampant lying. I've tried everything I could think of, even a course on meditative techniques, but nothing has stuck with me for longer than a few months. Short of beating my head against the pavement or playing hopscotch on highway 101, I don't know what else I can do that will have an actual lasting effect on my life.

I didn't want this to sound so whiny and self-loathing as it seems to have become. But it's nearly 1:45 in the afternoon and I'm still in bed. I can't make myself get up, even to eat. I don't know what I'm going to do at this point, whether I'll ever write here again or not. I don't know if I'll manage to even leave my apartment today (not true, actually... I have a regular Thursday activity that I'm somewhat obligated to attend, so I will eventually have to get up and go). All this shit has finally come home to me, and yet I have the audacity to be surprised by it. I just don't know anymore.

I know this: whoever you are that know me in real-life and aren't telling, I would appreciate it if you'd grow up and talk to me directly. If you're really that concerned for me, then you owe me that much. And if you aren't, then leave my life entirely. In the long run, we'll both be better off for it.

-D

And Another First!

2007-12-10T04:03:00.000-08:00

After my previous post, something quite unexpected happened: the person in question found out about it!

I mean, this isn't the first time that someone I wrote about here later read the post-in-question. But what happened in this case was much more unique. The post got picked up in Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup that week, and someone who knows the person I was with read it. Then re-read it, and decided, "Hey, this sounds just like something J would do. In fact, it sounds exactly like her." So he wrote to J with the URL, who confirmed it.

Then hopped on IM with me and let me know that she knew.

Of course, at first I panicked because I was afraid she was upset with me blogging about our little tryst. Luckily for me, the opposite was the case: she was quite amused by it (and flattered by the "glowing review", to use her words). Plus, it basically validated everything that she'd been telling this person she was capable of. Now he knows she isn't just bragging. And I know that it's safe to let out the breath I was holding...

-D

OK, Cupid, Maybe You CAN Get Me Laid

2007-11-29T23:34:00.000-08:00

I've actually had very little success with the OKCupid matching site. And that's a shame, really, because I love their tests and I think their approach to questions (allowing multiple "right" answers, weighting the importance of various questions) is probably one of the best thought-out of the dating-website diaspora. And yet, until this week I'd never gotten lucky with anyone I met there. A number of first dates, but rarely a second date.

And then, this happens. I'm currently in Denver, and will be for a few more days. Last year, when I lived here for a few months, I'd tried to date a little using OKC (and a few others) as a source, to no avail. I don't remember how I found the particular ad, but after moving back to California I stumbled across an ad from someone in Boulder. An almost idea match-- polyamorous, close (-enough) to my age, and many shared interests including Russian. I sent a brief e-mail that basically joked, "Where were you last year when I was in Denver for 8 months?" Funny-enough, she wrote back and said I should drop her a line next time I was headed to the area. So a few weeks ago, I did. But this story actually isn't about her, and you'd probably prefer I get to the sex part, anyway...

When I wrote to her, as is the wont of OKC I saw a few suggested profiles for people in the same general area that are similar (by OKC's measure) to the person I just wrote to. One of them really caught my eye, as her views on sex and poly relationships was very close to mine. I was hesitant, though, because there was a larger age-gap than I would normally pursue. But I sent a fairly harmless message anyway. She replied and seemed to be really interested in me. We exchanged some OKC messages, and moved one evening into actual chat. Started on OKC, moved to Yahoo IM. I still wasn't sure she was actually interested in getting together, but the chat was enjoyable.

Then it started getting slightly suggestive. I was being a good boy, I swear! But after a bit, I had to start teasing a little in return. You know, like self-defense. Sorta. Anyway, so we decided to meet somewhere last Saturday, after she got off work. Picked a nice, reasonably-quiet bar. I got there and immediately recognized her from her pics. Oh yeah... pics. Did I mention that by way of teasing me, she had sent me links ("private guest passes", in Flickr terminology) to several Flickr photo sets she had, that were carefully locked? And for good reason... these included several strip-tease sets, a set from her first orgy (which also proudly pointed out that she herself had organized it), and a set called "not alone", that comprised of pics of her with others (but which did not belong to the orgy set). As George Takei would say, "Oh my."

So, yeah, after deciding that despite a clear case of mutual lust (I had only a few pictures to offer, but sent them in order to be fair) it would not be wise for one of us to drive the 30 or so miles to the other at 2AM for a quickie, we made the Saturday plans. And so it came to be that I was having a pint of Guinness (food of the gods), across from her and her simple white wine. We talked for hours, joking, flirting just a little. And as it was getting late, we left and went to my car (well, the car I borrowed from the friend I'm staying with out here). At this point, I was hopeful but a little unsure... aside from semi-anon hook-ups on Craigslist, my actual dating-life has been pretty cruddy for quite a while. This person was neither a professional, paid to tolerate my advances, nor a fellow CL cruiser, who may have simply decided that I was "good enough" for that evening's efforts. No, this was a real, ordinary person with fairly ordinary dating instincts. But as we sat and contemplated each other, I boldly made the move for a first kiss. And 10 minutes later, we broke off long enough to consider our dilemma:

Driving to my place was out because (a) it was 30+ miles away and (b) my friend was already annoyed that I had made a date to spend time with someone other than her (despite the fact that we are only friends, not romantically-involved, and despite the fact that in previous visits she herself had tried to get me laid... I don't understand, so please don't ask...)
Her place was out because she currently was living with a parent while returning to school after a few years' break
There was no doubt we needed to find someplace, and fast

So we did something I hadn't actually ever had to do before: we found a cheap motel, and rented a room solely for the purpose of sex.

Once in the room, we didn't waste any time. But that was largely because we didn't have a lot of time to waste... it was already late, and she had to be up early Sunday for work. But we had enough time for my two favorite Latin words. Who am I kidding... for me, there's always time for going down!

After we spent more time making out (this time, doing so while deliciously undressed), I kissed my way down her body and took a moment to gaze at her V. Very nice, indeed: neatly trimmed, without any actual shaving. I could play to my heart's content without worrying about either stray hairs or razor stubble. So I went in and started in on my usual tricks and technique. I know I've said it over and over, but I fucking love going down on a woman. I don't know why, maybe because I got conditioned to consider it "forbidden fruit" earlier in my sexual history. But it's just heaven for me. So, I'd made sure she knew that I was a lover of this activity, and also more than happy to go as long as it took for her to get off... I didn't just consider it some obligatory foreplay. And she had warned that she rarely gets off from just oral. But that's OK... I'm just lovin' life, for now. Licking, suckling the clit, lightly nipping the labia, long slow broad strokes of my tongue. After a while, at her request, I work a few fingers into her and start massaging the general area of the G-spot (which I tend to have more trouble locating than the clit itself). But sure-enough, after about 20 minutes or so, she stops me and tells me that she thinks she'd have a better chance of getting off if I continue to use the fingers inside her, but let her work her clit with her own fingers. You know, some guys might take offense at this, or at least feel like they weren't effective. Not me. I'm just happy to see my partner get off, especially if I can have a hand in it (oh, that was a bad pun... sorry). And after another 5 minutes or so, I got what I wanted to see: her in the throes of a great O, so much that almost her entire body lifted up from the bed.

Then it was my turn. As sometimes happens, I had gotten very focused on what I was doing to/for her, and my own excitement had... faded. But she had bragged about her oral skills, and felt the need to back up her bold words. And she did. I can no longer point to a single person as the hands-down "best" oralist I've had the pleasure of enjoying, but she was pretty damn good. When she took me over the edge, I felt almost as if I was coming so hard my feet were shrinking.

Alas, at that point I knew I was spent for the night, and she still had work to dread, err, look forward to. So we parted ways, me driving her back to the bar to get her car, and her saying good-night with a hungry kiss that made me wish it were 3PM instead of AM. But part we did, and drove back to my house and she to hers. Neither of us knowing for sure if our schedules (hers consisting of school and work, mine consisting of remote website work and house maintenance/repairs) would let us get together again.

Turns out they do-- tomorrow morning. And on that note, I need to get some sleep :-).

-Dausa

London Calling. Errr, Again.

2007-11-01T08:24:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I'll be on a flight to London, this time to spend a good week (almost) there before heading north-ish to Telford. I'll be kicking around from the 3rd on to the 9th or so. Any suggestions for places to check out are greatly appreciated. I love this city, and plan to see as much as I can in the six or so days I'll have. And if you're a London-area blogger and are interesting in chatting over a pint, that too might be possible (though one evening is already spoken for at this point).

Ta!

-D

Memory Lane: First Threesome

2007-10-21T03:24:00.000-07:00

(For lack of any current goings-on, I'm reaching into the memory-vault for this one. Not that I don't like recalling the high-points of past sex-capades, but that is a limited resource. If I don't add some new memories to the vault eventually, the well will run dry.)

My first threesome involved Nine Inch Nails, suggestive dancing, and a water-bed. It did not, however, involve penetration.

I don't remember exactly when it was. I do know that it was after the release of Nine Inch Nails' Closer, and it was around the time that NIN toured for the album with Marilyn Manson and the Jim Rose Circus. The album came out in 1994, so it was probably that year. From what I remember of the weather, it was either late fall of '94 or late winter of '95. Come to think of it, it was after a trip I'd made to New Orleans, so I'm going to go with the '95 estimate.

I was involved with PC, someone I've mentioned here before (since we were together for so long). By this point, I knew she was bisexual. Mind you, this wasn't something she told me until we'd known each other quite a while, and had been intimate for some time, as well. I don't know why she took so long to tell me. It could be that she was tired of guys assuming that she'd hook them up with a 3-way when they learned. Or maybe she didn't think I could handle it. I was awfully naive when she and I met, much more so than I ever realized at the time. Whatever the reason, once I found out I never tried to get her to set us up, which may be why she finally did so on her own. Well, sort of on her own.

There was this stunning Amazon of a woman that we knew, JR. 5'11", lovely curvy proportions, dark red hair. Bisexual and polyamorous, and very open about both. At some point a few months earlier, I had learned two interesting things at separate times: JR thought PC was hot, and PC felt the same about JR. On the minus side, JR lived in Minnesota. On the plus side, however, she worked as a flight attendant for a major airline and tended to hit Denver 3-5 times a year. Besides a shared attraction, they had another interest in common: Nine Inch Nails. Who were going to be in Denver at some upcoming date, at a time that coincided with one person's birthday (JR's, I think). So I got tickets for us all, and JR used her latitude as an airline employee to come visit and go to the concert.

The night of the concert, I was a nervous wreck. Was this really going to happen? Would I really be having a threesome? Or would I be left out, again? See, some months earlier, PC had tried to set something up around my birthday. A woman she met who was pretty openly-sexual and who seemed to like PC, invited us out for drinks. A fourth person came along, but that didn't bother me. But the evening went in a direction that is so far beyond wrong, I can't even go into it here. Besides, this story is about the evening that went right. So here I was, nervous after a previous disaster, but what did I have to complain about? I was at a concert of Marilyn Manson and NIN. Manson (who I wasn't really into) had just finished, and the Jim Rose Circus was on stage. Amazing show. But we really wanted to see NIN. So as much as we liked Jim Rose, we were happy when he finished.

The NIN show was fantastic. I've seen them on other occasions, but this one was the best. Maybe because of other events, I've come to romanticize it, but I really do think they were in top form. And the three of us, well... we went from just cheering to dancing in place in our seats, to dancing close and intimate during "Something I Can Never Have". And believe it or not, I was so distracted by these two women, that the irony of the title as applied to my current situation was completely lost on me!

That song, that dancing, changed the whole dynamic of the evening. Up to that point, I think all three of us were entertaining "what if?" thoughts. After that point, "if" transformed to "when". Touching that had been just light and fleeting became more deliberate, and lingering. As much as we loved the concert, we all seemed ready for the last encore to end. Of course, this was a huge concert at an arena, so it took for-FUCKING-ever to get out of the parking lot and back home. By this time, it was no longer such a sure thing... we were more tired than we'd been, and less wired. The time spent getting out of the lot and home had let some of the intensity wane. But under it all, we all three still wanted this. That's one of the best parts about looking back at this: I can see with certainty that unless they had wanted it as badly as I did, there were dozen of excuses and chances to get out that could have been used.

Instead, we all climbed into my king-sized water-bed, and spent some time building the intensity back up. At first, we kind of all looked to one another a little sheepishly. I knew even then that neither of them were strangers to sex where N > 2, but it seemed right to do, to take some time to push out the frustration of the traffic, the residual noise of the concert. I don't know how long we waited, but eventually the waiting turned back into mutual caressing. And the caressing turned into kissing. I had never seen two women kiss before this. Oh, I'd seen it in porn, and some short kisses in mainstream films. Heck, I'd been to the art-house theater and seen a few lesbian-themes movies, even. But this was real, it was right in front of me. And the real thing is just so much better than film can ever be! So it's a cliché, so it's typically-male of me to say: two women who are truly into each other, kissing passionately, is totally fucking hot.

I don't know how long we'd been at this point. It might have been two hours, it might have been fifteen minutes. But JR looked in PC's eyes and said to her, "I want to taste you". A younger me would probably have shot his wad at that moment. Instead, I scooted towards the edge of the bed to allow them room, so they wouldn't feel crowded by me. And I got to watch.

Did you know that women don't really make love like the way it's portrayed in mainstream porn? Yeah, not exactly a revelation. And I knew that at the time, but I didn't know it, if you understand my meaning. But I started to understand it. Watching JR as she worked her way so slowly from kissing PC on the mouth, to kissing her throat, her breasts, her nipples, her belly... until finally she buried her face between her legs. I was so rapt by this, I didn't even stroke myself. I just watched, hoping that I'd be able to recall this until well into old age. It was just so beautiful. It was the first time I'd been able to watch two people like that at all, hetero or not.

After JR had worker her magic, I slid in and also went down on PC. I don't even think I felt threatened or anything, I wasn't doing it in an effort to prove to her that I could still get her off. It just seemed right... she was still laying there, glowing from the first orgasm, so I wanted her to have another. Then the two switched places, and PC started in on JR. This was definitely a side of my SO I hadn't seen before! I mean, I knew first-hand how talented her mouth was, but this was different. The look in her eyes as she locked them with JR, it was completely unlike the looks she gave me. Oh, and I did mention that it was already quite clear that JR was indeed a natural red-head, right? PC was in a sort of goth phase at the time, and the contrast of her jet-black hair on JR's thighs, spilling over to the edges of her auburn-red bush, well, I did suddenly remember that I was capable of stroking myself. When she came, JR came almost completely off the bed, her back arching and her head tilted backwards until from her vantage point the headboard seemed directly above her. When she calmed down, it was a given that I would go in, much as I had previously.

This was the strangest-feeling part of it, for me. I hadn't been with anyone else since PC and I started dating. Oh, we considered ourselves in an open relationship, but my job was so demanding of my time that I only had time to spend with her. She would occasionally see someone else, just to get out and have some fun. But I wasn't jealous-- I wanted her to be able to have her own me-time, much as my hobby and hobby-club meetings were for me. But here I was, about to put mouth to clit on what was really only my third vulva (recall that I was a latecomer to the whole cunnilingus thing), and my partner was settling in to watch me with (it looked like) every bit as much interest and fascination as I'd had while watching her. I was more nervous, this time. When I had just done this with my partner, I knew what she liked, what turned her on. But with JR, it was a whole new time of discovery. Every lick, every flick of the tip of my tongue, I was paying attention anew, hoping for signs that would tell me if this was adding to or distracting from the experience for her. I must have done something right, because I got the same reaction PC had. And it felt so good to have brought that out in her.

As fate would have it, we ended it there. I wish I could say that PC leaned in and shared in the licking, but that's another thing that tends to be only in the realm of porn; there just wasn't really room for both of us at once. I wish I could say that next it was my turn, and that they dueled tongues like swords around my throbbing cock. But the reality was, by this time it was pretty close to 4AM. The next morning, I would have to get to work, PC would have to get her son to school, and afterwards JR back to the airport. So instead, we cuddled up together and slept.

And I don't regret that at all. It was an almost-perfect night, and I'd rather have stopped it when we did than push ourselves and risk spoiling it. Besides, it was pretty clear that this wouldn't be a one-time thing, and I'm nothing if not patient... but I'll leave that for another post.

-Dausa

Two Recent Links that Piss Me Off

2007-10-19T00:13:00.000-07:00

Life is still nuts. I've been interviewing with Large Well-Established Internet Portal on multiple occasions (with a variety of groups) over the last few weeks. Looks like I'll be leaving Current Job over the next few weeks. Plus, I'm getting ready for another trip to London in early November.

For now, here are two things that are making my head hurt:

Who's the best choice to be responsible for U. S. contraception programs? Apparently, someone who's strongly against the concept of contraception.
A sex worker agrees to a service at a price. Instead, the client pulls a gun and (along with three friends) forces her to have unprotected sex for free. According to the judge, this wasn't rape, it was "theft of services".

Bed, now. Other posts later.

-D

The (Unsolicited) Book Review

2007-10-16T01:32:00.000-07:00

As has been noted on some of the finer sex blogs out there, there have been some less-than-honorable publicity moves on the part of the U.S. release of The Girl's book. Now, this blog is not prominent-enough to have been tempted with the "opportunity" to shill an edited, probably watered-down version of the book in question. Maybe, before I practically fell off the face of the earth for the better part of 2006, I might have had enough traffic to warrant an invite. But I didn't get one. Which is OK, because if you checked either of those first two links, you'll see that I'm not inclined to go along with what they were planning, anyway.

Instead, I'm going to write my own review. The cover-image to the right links to the UK Amazon store (it's actually the link that Abby herself uses on her site, so if there is any Amazon Associates code or similar, it will be her that benefits from it, not me... to use my code would link this blog to my "real life" too closely anyway). I recommend that if you are interested in the book (and hopefully you will be by the time I'm finished), that you'll buy it from the UK even if you're in the US, as I am.

I bought the book on a whim, earlier this year. I mean, I planned all along to get the book, of course, but I hadn't gotten around to it (not even on my trip to London last November). On a (separate) whim, I was perusing the Amazon.co.uk site looking for a rare, out-of-print classical CD. If, by the way, you like either of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition or Respighi's Pines of Rome, I cannot recommend this recording highly-enough. I lost my original in a car break-in years ago, and had been searching for a replacement every since. I couldn't be satisfied with any other interpretation. But I digress. At long last, I had found it. And I was so happy, I decided to add another item or two, as long as I was shopping. But what? Then I remembered Abby expressing some disdain as what she was hearing about the plans for the US market release of her book. Why not get it in the original Queen's English edition? Perfect!

So I get the book. Now first off, let me say that I've been reading her blog since about April of 2005. It was one of the first few sex-blogs that I came across from checking out other blogger's link-rolls. I was speechless as the wry wit and general sense of, well, fun that she seemed to be putting into each blog post. So I was already a big fan. When I heard that there was going to be a book, I knew I'd eventually get it and read it. Just a matter of "when", not "if". So how did the book stack up to the blog experience?

Quite well, if I may say so.

These are two very different media. It sounds obvious when I say it, but it's surprising how many people don't get this simple fact. Violet Blue gets it. Xeni Jardin gets it. Lots of people do, but they're sadly in the minority. So to do this thing, you have to understand that difference and make the material that you wrote for one form of expression work in the other. She does this, and in my feel for reading the book, she does it well. It turns the blog content back into the diary-form that blogs grew out of. But she has created content over the course of her blog that doesn't quite fit into this model, yet is top-notch content and should be included. How to do this? A little re-arranging, a little re-organizing, and you have excellent filler pages that are not only as good as the rest of the pages, they do a handy job of breaking up the logical sections of the narrative.

Know this before you buy it: if you're looking for a book to jerk off to, you might want to stick with Penthouse Letters. There are some hot pages in this book, and I was plenty hard on several occasions. But this is a more emotional than salacious book. While there are plenty of detailed descriptions, many of those descriptions are of how she's feeling about the latest emotional let-down, the latest punishment for letting her guard down. I winced in places, seeing the accident about to happen but unable to jump into the page and warn her. I envied her (or more accurately, her partner) when the stars aligned and the sex was had. And when I got to the last page, I wanted very badly to see "To be continued".

So in case it isn't clear, I recommend this book whole-heartedly and without reservations. More to the point, without any "coaching" from the sleazy US publicist. I don't know if she plans on more books in this vein. The fall-out over her identity being spread by London tabloids did quite a number on her personal life, and pretty much ended her professional life. But if she has anything else in the works, blog, memoir or fiction, I think I'll pre-order it this time around.

From Amazon UK, of course. It really is a global economy, after all.

-Dausa

Lighter-Note Links

2007-10-15T02:03:00.000-07:00

To offset the crankiness in the previous post, here are some recent links I've been enjoying and sharing with others:

Slow Jerk: I've watched this over and over, and still laugh my ass off at it. Might just be a guy thing, though. Video, might be marginally NSFW.
Tales of MU: An ongoing piece of fantasy fiction. Fairly typical reverse-world: science is the "great leap of faith", which magic and magical beings are common place. The writer weaves these elements in seamlessly, and very creatively (down to an argument about whether the magic spell that makes the light inside a fridge actually goes off or not when you close the door). There's very little explicit erotica in it, but the subtle sexuality that is present is hawt. It's mostly lesbian in nature, and very heavily leaning towards BDSM. Lot's of control, humiliation, spanking, etc. Some of the stuff I don't usually find that hot in other erotica, but this writer is, well, let's just say gifted.

Thought I had more, but I can't find the other's in my history or bookmarks...

-D

N Things I Hate About Porn

2007-10-14T22:40:00.000-07:00

Borrowing a phrase from my college math days, "For some values of N". After all, I might find new gripes in the future and want to update this list...

I recently picked up some on-the-cheap porn DVDs from a local bookstore. I had dumped a lot of my porn last year when I thought I was moving to the UK (mostly VHS, which wouldn't have been any use over there, and it was getting old anyway), and I haven't had a lot of luck finding useful porn on the 'net. I mean, let's be honest: SEO-gone-horribly-wrong has made searching specifically for porn online an exercise in abject frustration.

So I've bought a few DVDs here and there over the last few months. And thrown almost half of them away after viewing (some I didn't even bother to finish). I can't even claim that the ones I've kept are particularly great, but they didn't suck as badly and/or they had one or more scenes that made them worth keeping.

So here, in no particular order, are N things I hate about porn. I reserve the right to add to this list in the future, should porn continue to suck at its current rate.

Predictability. For crying out loud, not every scene has to follow the same pattern. And when I say "same", I mean I can write it out as a symbolic expression, much as we computer-types do to specify languages. First, one of the two performs oral on the other. Then they switch places. Then it's vaginal sex, maybe in two or more positions. This is followed by anal, occasionally in more than one position. Lastly, the guy spews onto the woman's face. Technically-speaking, there are three variables I see in this equation: Who goes down on whom first, who starts out on top for the vaginal, and whether the anal is doggy-style or missionary. Mix it up some, guys. To be fair, this is in some part exacerbated by my next point.
Professionalism. It seems like everyone with a video camera and enough seed-money to sign a DVD-duplication contract is creating their own amateur porn series. That isn't bad in and of itself, but let's be honest: the majority of the people in these scenes wouldn't be third- or even fourth-string talent at a place like Vivid Video. And that's just the women. The men? With the exception of perhaps Peter North or Randy West's series, the men doing these videos look a lot like they might not be getting much action were it not for the camera and the money that's being paid to the actresses on a per-scene basis. I'll be fair here: I don't know the details of how the business works, but I don't think people do these scenes for the "life experience". No one's ever expected to be nominated for an Oscar for their work in DP-gangbang scene, but compared to the amateurs cropping up left and right, Tera Patrick may as well be Meryl Streep. As far as bodies go, just to clarify: I don't just mean non-Barbie body-types. I'm actually all for that... overdone breast jobs are just as off-putting. I mean people with visible rashes. Sagging breasts and loose skin usually associated with heavy meth use. And since most of these scenes represent the only time the director/actor is going to fuck the woman, they're more likely to try and do everything within that one scene (the source of most of my frustration laid out in the previous point).
Safety. I sat through a compilation DVD (well, fast-forwarded through most of it) that I bought recently. According to the 2257 disclaimer at the start of the program, pretty much all of the scenes were shot in or later than 1999. Some as recently as 2006. And more than half of them featured uncovered vaginal (and in several cases, anal) penetration. You just don't do that in this day and age. I look forward to the day when I meet someone I end up being with and staying committed to, to being able to be fluid-bonded to that person, to only using condoms for birth-control purposes. But until that day, I'm far too aware of the dangers of HIV to risk it. And there have been too many porn HIV scandals, for people to be taking these risks. And not no-name amateurs like my last point referred to, I mean names like Belladonna. Of course, the "condom-only" approach was all voluntary, and varied largely on a studio-to-studio basis. Maybe I'm just too practical, that I can't just sit back and let fantasy take me away. But I can't watch uncovered anal sex and not thing about the dangers. What's next, though, just compounds it.
ATM. Who the fuck on this planet decided that it was sexy for the man to take his cock directly from the woman's ass and stick it in her mouth? I mean, most men won't even kiss their girl immediately after she goes down, but they think this sort of thing is hot? Not just scenes that could have been done with clever editing-- I mean scenes in which the dick goes back and forth many, many times within the full camera frame. Sure, you can cleanse the area, use enemas, etc. But it's still the one of the most bacteria-ridden parts of the body. Ask any sex educator and they'll stress the importance of not moving directly from anal back to vaginal without first cleaning oneself. Maybe they're on to something. And yes, I know this is personal preference (clearly, if it's being done as much as I'm seeing in my small sample, someone must be driving the market). But then, it's my bitch-list, too.
Gulp. Having a fondness for the blowjob myself, I have a... proclivity towards buying (or renting) titles that are heavy on the oral action. And the last 4-5 I've (for lack of a better phrase) come across, all seem to have one thing in common aside from facial finishes: at some point, usually several such points, the guy forcefully gags the woman with his dick. Usually pretty hard, usually in rapid succession. Sometimes it's milder, the woman just pushes herself as far down as she can go, and holds herself there until her eyes water and she coughs around/against the dick. Like the ATM, someone must think this is sexy, because it's all over the place any more. To me, it's distracting at the very least. Maybe I'm just missing the chromosome that makes the sound of trying not to vomit sexy. Given my (growing) list of complaints with porn, it could just be me I suppose.
Lesbi-ain'ts. I think that before any director is allowed to shoot a girl-on-girl scene, he (or she) should be compelled to watch actual lesbians having sex. Note the total lack of inch-long nails. Take care to observe that the body language generally involves facing each other while kissing, not both women facing the camera while their backs lay on the same geometric plane. I know mainstream porn thinks lesbians are just waiting for the dick to magically appear, but that's no reason to face the same direction. Shouldn't someone should be looking in each direction, so it doesn't sneak up on them?

I think that's enough for now. Needless to say, it ain't easy for me to find porn I like these days. And when I do find something boner-inspiring, I end up watching it until I'm tired of it. But at least the looking and test-viewing part is entertaining!

-D

In Which I (Almost) Get My First Facial

2007-09-18T00:26:00.000-07:00

Usual warning here: this post contains bi content. It is, in fact, almost 100% man-on-man. So if that takes you to the scary place, just move along and I'll try to put up some safe (hetero) content soon(-ish).

OK.

So, I haven't written in quite a while. It's hard to blog about sex that I'm not having. For reasons that I'll expound upon in a later entry, I'm not indulging in commercial sex these days, nor am I cruising Craigslist as often as I was earlier this year. But occasionally I do skim over the CL ads, and rarer still I'll send out an answer or two. Last Saturday was one such time.

I've been interested in exploring my bi side for the last few months. Part of the reason I haven't been doing the CL thing as much is that I'm actually more interested in finding someone I can do more with than just get blown. Even after the experiences I've had, I'm still surprised at how many people (at least on CL) are interested in giving head while not wanting any reciprocation. Well, don't get me wrong... I still love getting head. Love it love it love it. But, and I never thought I'd see the day when I am the one saying this, but: there's more to sex than just getting blown.

So Saturday, late, I saw and answered an ad. Someone fairly close to my age, close to my locale, who wanted to trade head. Had a picture of his erection, and it looked pretty suckable. I mean, when I say that I'm speaking from a vantage of only having had my mouth around a dick four times previously. Two of those were cross-dressers, and one was a pre-op transsexual (who was more hung than I am, while still being fully feminine in terms of facial features, skin, etc., and possessing an awesome rack... WTF is up with that?). So I get directions and head (heh heh) over.

Sorry, I can't start in with the sex part yet, because he was apparently more nervous than I was. His last email had said he'd be waiting for me while "watching movies". I figure I'll get there and there'll be some decent porn on. Nope. He's watching SpikeTV, and it's a lame cop-caper flick with Stephen Dorff and Natasha Henstridge. So we sit and watch for a bit. Play with his cat a bit. Finally, in an uncharacteristically-bold gesture, I chuckle (at least, I think it came out as a chuckle) and say that when he said he was watching movies, I thought he meant porn. He says he does have a couple of new pornos, but the only working DVD player is in the bedroom. Cool. Works on two levels.

We move on in, and he starts it up. Straight porn, of course. A M/F/M threesome with no M/M contact. He's into it, so we sit on the bed and watch. Scene ends, he skips over some fairly generic ones until he gets to another 3-way. Watch that a while. It starts to work on me, so I pull myself out and start stroking. I mean, someone clearly needs to take the initiative, here. He starts telling me how he got started down this sordid path of cock-suckery: apparently, he used to have a roommate who, when he'd stumble home drunk, would pressure this guy (JB) for head. Kept telling him how they'd take turns, it would feel great, etc. So eventually he gave in, and found that he did like it. I guess they don't room together, since JB has been forced to turn to CL to satisfy his shameful desires. I shouldn't be so snarky, but he did make it sound like he was practically seduced by the dark side of The Force into blowing his (ex-)roommate.

By this time, the scene on the DVD has switched again, now we're seeing a one-on-one with a cute Asian woman. I can tell he's about to skip it, but I mention I think she's cute, so he leaves it. Good call-- this scene has some fantastic close-ups of her working over her partner's erection with lips and tongue. Seriously boner-inspiring stuff. He says, "let me start on you." So we both strip, and I lay back. I watch the porn, he enacts the porn.

And he's pretty damn good.

He works me over really well, and he does a good job taking me pretty deep. Just recalling it now is getting me ready to go again. He changes angles a few times, and is expert at stopping before I get too gone, and letting me cool off before starting again. After a while, he has me stand up beside the bed, and he gets on his knees in front of me. This is fun, too. I look over at the TV, which is the only source of light in the room. We're right in front of it, so his face is bathed in the glow of porn. A new scene is on now (I got caught up in what he was doing and missed the ending of the Asian woman's scene), this one is a slender brunette. She looks a bit like the Twitter icon of a certain sexblogger I regularly read (and follow the Twitters of). So now I'm getting some really good head, and watching some really good head, and wondering if what I see on screen is anything like how she gives head, and then I realize that I'm having to bend my knees slightly to lower my pelvis to his face-level, and my thighs are starting to rebel. So we move back to the bed. Now, on the screen, the brunette is on the receiving end of some breath-play from her partner. Which also reminds me of that someone. I look from there, to the mouth that's actually on my dick, and that's all she wrote. Thank goodness for latex, because I didn't even have a chance to warn him that I was going to shoot. Even with head, I can have trouble coming with a condom on, but not this time. Woof.

He gets me a towel to clean up with, and I catch my breath (coming that much can be hard work!). Now, the moment of truth. I can count the number of times I've done this on one hand and still have a finger free to scratch an itch. And none of those times, have I actually brought the person off. I've had to come to the depressing conclusion that giving a blowjob is not an innate skill. And at present, I'm not very good at it. Made all the more frustrating because I am pretty damn good at going down on women, even if I do say so myself. But just like the way you get to Carnegie Hall, what I need is practice, practice, practice.

So I have him lay back, and I get down between his legs. Note to self: you've always been good about remembering to wash yourself really good before hook-ups, especially around the creases where pelvis meets the top of the leg. Now you know what it's like if you DON'T do that. But I'm strong-enough to soldier on. He was still at full-mast when I came, but the break we've taken has let a little air out of the tube.

Which is good, because, well, I did mention I'm still fairly new at this, right? I mean, he's not as big as me. Nor does he get to be, once he's fully erect. But I'm already having problems fitting it all in my mouth. And anyone who knows me says I can have a big mouth at times. Just clearly not at the times that count. But I'm trying. I'm also trying to do some fun things with my tongue along the underside of the shaft. It looks a lot easier in the porn videos. The women in those can take bigger dicks than this and STILL flutter their tongues along it as they go up and down. But boy, is this harder than it looks, pun intended. And the more I try to stretch my "depth", the closer I get to gagging myself.

So now, here's the score: I've been doing him for about 1/4 the time he spent on me. Already, I'm fighting the urge to purge in the back of my throat, and my eyes are watering from my attempts to take him deeper. I'm madly making sure I keep my teeth covered by lips, because I know how much I hate feeling teeth. On the plus side, he really seems to be enjoying himself. But I realize I'm going to have to resort to the trick I hate seeing done in porn: I'm going to have to use my hand on the shaft.

See, when I see this in porn, it feels like a cop-out. The woman seems as though she's less interested in giving pleasure than in just getting the guy off. She reverts to what is basically a handjob with her sucking on the tip. I'd rather see a more sincere blowjob that only goes halfway down the shaft. Now, however, I realize that there are hips on the other end of that shaft, and sometimes they "encourage" a deeper level of, shall we say, commitment. So now I'm using my hand, as well. And in my own defense, I am at least using my mouth on more than just the tip. Just... not as taking it as deep as I was before.

All this time, I can't help but think that I'm just not doing this very well. I mean, he seems to be enjoying it... he's moaning a lot and bucking plenty (hence the manual intervention). So I'm probably just being hard on myself (*snicker*). But what it boils down to is this: I know that if I were getting this exact blowjob, I'd be unimpressed.

Luckily, I'm not the one on the receiving end, and the one who IS on the receiving end must be enjoying it, because the next thing I know, I hear him say, "I'm coming!". Completely forgetting that there's a safe layer of latex in place, I draw back instinctively. And realize that had there not been a condom, I would have succeeded in not being given a mouthful, but I would have instead glazed myself like a Krispy Kreme gone very, very bad. This guy must have been saving it up for a week or more, because I could swear the condom's tip more than tripled in size. Might just have been my vantage point, I suppose.

At that point, it was really late. Like, 5AM late. So we said good-bye as I found my own way to the door and he hit the shower. But at least I can say that I've made a man come with my mouth. And maybe someone of you reading this can remember far-enough back in your own sexual histories, to remember when you too might have considered that an accomplishment.

I'm still hoping to find a nice, smooth very-femme twink who'll let me explore more in-depth than I have thus far, but this was a good time. And when I got home, I slept the sleep of the satisfied.

Dausa

Twitter-pated

2007-07-12T17:04:00.000-07:00

Among the many Twitter users I follow, is AlwaysArousedGirl. But the application I use to follow the feeds (I can never remember to log in to instant-messaging clients) croaked over the weekend, letting several "events" queue up. When I restarted it, I got the last three things AAG had twitter'd, all in rapid succession. Which, well, altered slightly how one might have interpreted them were they to have come through with more delay between them:

aagblog: Gettin' ready for 24 Hours of Sex. Be afraid. :)

aagblog: Recovering. Can barely speak. Everything sore. Happy. Happy. Happy.

aagblog: Thank the good lord above for the teletubbies.

Really. I think that last message was part of a different line of thinking. Otherwise, I need some steel-wool for my eye-meats.

-D

Best Gang/Gay Pun EVAR

2007-07-12T16:58:00.000-07:00

From the ever-lovely Violet Blue's SF Chron column this week:

...and all I could do now was spill a little Smirnoff Ice on the corner of Market and Castro for my fallen homos.

Nuttin' but love for ya. Peace-out.

-D

When Sex-Addiction Isn't So Cute

2007-05-28T12:58:00.000-07:00

I'm back in Denver for a week, to see a friend's son graduate from high school. It's a nice, quiet vacation, a needed break from the job I've been at for almost 6 months now.

In coming back, I was reminded of one of the few people I fooled around with while I was living here last year. I didn't write about it here (I don't think... I should probably check the archives to be sure, but if I did write it was only briefly), because it was actually a little unnerving for me.

See, this person is also a sex addict. But compared to her, I'm just a wanker trying to justify himself. And I don't consider myself a wanker trying to justify himself. This person doesn't have issues, she has subscriptions. But I'm happy to say that she does try very hard to keep her life on an even keel. With varying degrees of success, of course (as do we all). But one thing I found from exchanging a few e-mails then checking out her MySpace page, was that the local alternative weekly had done a story about her back in February. A story that is pretty candid, and one that revealed even more details of her rough times than even she or her ex-husband had ever mentioned in person back when I was living here and occasionally hanging out with them:

One Wild Ride

Reading this, I am actually grateful that my own addiction is fairly mild by comparison. I wish you only the best, hon.

-D

ABM: F%&!ing Ouch!

2007-05-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

(I am still desperately clinging to my attempts to pass the "Ass-Blogging Monday" meme into the mainstream sex-blog-o-sphere.)

So, apparently I was a bit hasty in assuming that I had forever blown my chances with the TV I had seen several times before. After apologizing and making a heartfelt offer to be more attentive and less selfish, I was given a second chance last Saturday night. Now, I happen to know that I wasn't her first choice. The ad I cited in that previous article? She posted a second one several hours later. Finally, around 3:30AM she replied to my last e-mail and invited me over. So right off the bat, I knew that she probably had waited as long as she thought she could, hoping that someone else would answer and agree to visit. But like I said, I'd been (mostly) in the wrong (mixed signals or no) so I accepted that.

I headed over, and we spent a good part of the first hour or so just laying side-by-side and talking. Eventually, though, inevitably one might say, talking turned to caressing, caressing turned to stroking, and stroking led to getting undressed. This time was different in a lot of ways. First of all, it was the first time I penetrated her. Now, I'm not actually that into anal. But sometimes that's your only avenue, so you enjoy it. After due time spent enjoying this, we took a break to catch our second wind. Somehow, the conversation turned to whether I had ever been on the receiving end. I hadn't, and I admitted as much. So, she suggested giving it a go. And since I was in an accommodating mood, I said, "Sure!"

That. Fucking. Hurt.

OK, first of all, I'm not sure if I should continue using the feminine pronoun when it's her pegging me. Hell, I don't even know if it counts as pegging since a real penis was being used. I'll keep using the feminine out of habit, I suppose. Anyway, maybe she was out of practice on being on the pitching end, but she was sure as shit lacking in subtlety. And another thing... to quote Orlando Jones in Evolution, "There's always time for lube!". But other than what was on the condom itself, she seemed to have forgotten that detail.

I know some of you out there really groove on anal play. But I gotta say, I'm not digging it from my (admittedly limited) first-hand experience. It was about 6:00AM when I left, and yes, I was walking a little gingerly.

-Dausa

In Which I Learn I Was a Selfish Lout

2007-05-20T02:48:00.000-07:00

Since the end of the "33 Days" experiment, I haven't really been getting out much, let along getting much. Part of it was due to my depression kicking in, part of it just from lack of time (and energy) to pursue things. But I did see the TV a couple more times. This was the person that I first saw back when I did my so-called "Craigslist Experiment". In fact, she had placed an ad I answered, she wasn't someone answering the ad I had placed. She also was amazing to fool around with, so after I got past the 33 days, and after I started getting my shit together again, I saw her a couple of times.

Then, a few weeks ago, she stopped replying or calling me.

Mind you, it's not as though she always jumped every time I replied to her. Some nights, I imagine someone else got there first. But for several ads in a row, I heard nothing. Then, earlier this week, she replied.

In the reply (which I didn't save, so I can quote verbatim), she said she was a little hurt by the fact that the last time or two I'd been over, I basically got my rocks off and split, with barely even any chit-chat. And she was right-- I had done exactly that. Of course, I hadn't really thought about it until she said something, and since then I've been kicking myself for it. I don't want to be that kind of person, so it sucks to learn that I was doing so despite my best efforts. Not only that, but it cost me an otherwise very fun, very accommodating play-partner.

Now, in my defense, her ads generally had the gist of, "Come use me as a cock-slut, this is what I like." I'm not playing blame-the-victim, here. The person very much likes the submissive role, and emphasizes this in her ads. In fact, she has on up right now:

Last night was beyond dead. Hopefully tonight I will encounter all kinds of dick in desperate need of my special oral attention. I serve as a hot Latina crossdresser ( very passable ) and always hot for a good piece of dick! Requirements for you this evening are simply this, you must be available to travel to XXXXXXXXX ( don't ask me to come to you! ), you must be clean in decent shape and know how to serve that tool between your legs ( size is not an issue but how you use it )and last you must foward a photo with a brief description of yourself and your sexual needs for this evening.

And that ad is actually quite tame compared to most of them. It was all very confusing for someone who doesn't pick up on social cues very well. The ads seemed to stress one thing, and yet she complained about something else. But in the end, it comes down to me not being very considerate, and that sucks. I don't know if I'll see her again or not. But if I don't, it's my loss more than hers.

Dausa

Penis Power vs. Vagina Power

2007-04-19T16:09:00.000-07:00

Video, safe for viewing at work. Though you might want to wear headphones, depending on the environment:

http://www.devilducky.com/media/60668/

Still very much in depression. Burying myself in my Russian studies for now. But the video was too good not to share. I'll be back, I promise...

-D

Break Time's Over

2007-03-15T01:05:00.000-07:00

I needed a break after the 33 Days thing. I've got some material to write, that'll show up over the next few days (allowing for a brief trip down to Orange County this weekend). I didn't really get the sort of, well, "enlightenment" (for lack of any remotely better word) I had hoped the exercise would bring me. Fact is, I'm not really doing that well right now, but I don't yet know how to express it.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Epilogue - What I Have (Not) Learned

2007-03-04T22:34:00.000-08:00

Well. Here I am. I didn't get around to writing this yesterday. Unfortunately, it wasn't because I was going buck-wild but rather because I'm suffering from a pinched nerve that makes it really hard to sleep, and thus am not as well-rested as I should be.

I'm not really sure that I learned anything from this. At least, not anything constructive or useful. Certainly I can do This Thing where I don't orgasm for some set period of time. But hey, I just turned 39. That's not the news story it was 20 years ago. I certainly learned that it doesn't diminish the amount I think about sex. Predictably-enough, it boosted it pretty heavily. If anything, I learned that I'm prone to self-sabotage in a big, big way. If I weren't reporting in daily, I never would have made it a week.

Of course, I went out and got laid. I made a valiant effort to pick someone up through Craigslist, but it didn't pan out. Instead, I went to a provider I'd seen before, one that I knew I could count on for a good session. It wasn't the mind-blowing experience I'd had the first time with her (first times are always more exciting, I guess), but it was worth the expenditure. And boy did I spend... she was clearly impressed with the forcefulness of my orgasm, and the quantity of DNA left behind. I also squeezed out a couple on my own, later. I had tried to find something late-night on CL, but no dice. Not to worry, I'm still one of my best lovers.

Unfortunately, without this driving my posting, I fear I may drop off drastically again, and I don't want that. But there is so little new in my life, I'm going to eventually run out of past experiences to mine. Oh well, I'll burn that bridge once I've crossed it. I have some stuff I can still draw upon that should hopefully entertain, at least over the next few days.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 33 - Wow

2007-03-02T23:19:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I've made it. Granted, I had help in the form of being sick for nearly a week. And I had a semi-wet dream at one point. And let's be clear: I handled myself plenty, I just never allowed myself to orgasm. I couldn't help it-- when laying awake at night with a raging boner, I have to hold it.

I'm not sure, to be honest, what I've learned from this (except that I don't think I want to try it ever again). I'm going to sleep on it, and write an epilogue tomorrow. But first, I do want to thank everyone for the words of encouragement. It really helped more than you would think. Plus, it's just nice to know you're being read and that people enjoy reading you. Again, thanks.

(No, even though it is now officially the 3rd, I haven't wanked yet, because I still want to actually be engaged in sex with another person when I break this fast. To that end, I'm going to sleep before I get any bright ideas...)

Dausa

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 32 - My Nuts Are the Center of my World

2007-03-01T23:48:00.000-08:00

Blue, blue, my balls are blue /
Blue are my balls, on day thirty-two.

(sung to the tune of "Love is Blue")

I can't even touch myself for any length of time. Washing myself in the shower gets me hard, and by the time I'm rinsing the soap off I feel like just dropping to my knees and getting it all over with.

The concept of blue balls is real enough (and you can't imagine how pleased I am to find it covered in Wikipedia). The belief that you could die from it is, of course, wrong. But don't ask me about that right now. Right now, I feel like I have more spooge in my sac than I've ever had before. I can't think straight. And I mean that literally-- I'm at a point where I'm truly equally interested in men or women. Which is to say, I'm so horny at this stage my only concern would be whether I find the person attractive or not. Plumbing is not an issue.

I know there is just the one day left. I know that I'm just so close to reaching my goal. But every nerve-ending I have is screaming out for a release. And tomorrow is Friday; most nights I've gotten home from work late-enough, been tired-enough, that I only worried and fretted on a mostly intellectual level. But tomorrow I'll have all evening to dwell on my plight. Tomorrow will be a long night.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 31 - So Close, So Far

2007-02-28T23:10:00.000-08:00

I'm in a weird state (and I ain't just talkin' about California! *rimshot*). Weird dualities-- I'm keenly-focused on how badly I want to rip my jeans off and wank myself until there are no more juices left to come out, yet at the same time I feel no need to do so. I'm anxious to cruise Craigslist and find a man or a TV or any consenting human to suck me until only dust remains, but I'm supremely confident that I'll manage through the next two days.

(And to clarify, I meant 33 complete days. That means lasting until past midnight on the 2nd. Or more specifically, making it until the 3rd, my birthday.)

I'm giving a lot of thought to how I want to deal with Saturday. I was chatting with one of my favorite bloggers this afternoon, who seemed to think I shouldn't go immediately for the commercial route, that I should try pulling. Well and good, but I don't have the confidence in my chances for success. Believe it or not, I'm cripplingly shy in person. I'm crap at being suave in bars, because I'm crap being suave anywhere. It doesn't help that I have more self-esteem issues around weight (I'm not obese, but I'm big-enough to put a lot of women off), and while I am currently losing weight at a steady pace, I'm not going to be Brad Pitt by Saturday. Hell, I'm not even going to be Paul Giamatti by then. (Though at least I'm a lot taller than he is.) So while I obviously don't have to choose a course of action right this minute, come Saturday (heh heh heh... I said "come") I'll have to decide. Because I don't want my first release to be of the manual-override variety. I'll have plenty of time for that, later. (And to my chat-partner, I haven't forgotten my promise of before-and-after pictures!)

I don't have any real issues of guilt or regret over commercial sex, like I did at first. I try very hard to see people who at least appear to be self-representing, that aren't being controlled by a pimp or exploited in an Asian massage-parlor setting. So guilt isn't the issue. More like longevity, on two levels: on the more base level, I may want more than just an hour. I've got a lot of fluid to move. On the more enlightened level, there's always that one-in-a-hundred chance that I might hit it off really well with the pick-up. It's happened to me before, after all. One thing that's certain: that first orgasm is going to involve another person.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 30 - Please Kill Me

2007-02-27T23:49:00.000-08:00

After I finished writing last night's entry, I was hard as a rock. All the thinking about playing with a lovely TS possessing of both nicely-rounded breasts and a demandingly-stiff prick, how else could I respond?

I've mentioned that my blanket is an exquisitely-soft micro-fleece. And that the softness most nights is torture against my skin? So I'm trying to fall asleep with a hard-on that can drive nails, and my cat, my fucking cat starts to knead as cats are wont to do. Starts to knead the blanket like she's making bread. And she's doing it right on my fucking boner, using the blanket to make it worse. Adorable Кошка, my Russian Blue that I've had for nearly 9 years (since she was a kitten), is unknowingly posing the greatest threat to my "33 Days" vow since I solemnly stopped visiting www.xxxuploads.com.

So I kicked her off the bed. I mean, I'm only three days away from actually accomplishing this thing. Plus... getting rubbed off by my cat? That's just fucking wrong.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 29 - I Have Varied Tastes

2007-02-26T23:56:00.000-08:00

I have a confession: I get seriously turned-on by pre-op male-to-female transsexuals. To some degree, transvestites have a similar effect, but it's the TSs that make me weak in the knees.

My first exposure was Howard Chaykin's Black Kiss mini-series. Vampires, porn stars, organized crime and a pre-op TS prostitute. A three-way between the TS, a vampiric veteran porn actress and one completely unsuspecting guy. And that's within the first chapter or two. With E, I used to watch Brazilian TS porn that her store carried (it was her job to review the porn, so we felt we had a duty).

I've been with a few TVs over time, but as far as I know I've only been with one TS. I don't actually know if she was pre- or post-op because she only went down on me, never undressed. At least one person I've met through Craigslist advertised themselves as a TS but was actually a TV (I'll concede she might have been very early in transition, but really was more TV in appearance). I frequently skim the "t4m" section on CL, but I have yet to actually go that route. I've been to Diva's, a bar in SF that caters to transfolk and their "admirers" (a.k.a. "chasers"). Alas, most of the women there are working, as well.

This "fascination" has led me to give a lot of thought to what I would do if/when I'm in bed with a TS. Would I perform oral? Be receptive to anal? While exploring my bi side with men, I've been pretty strictly a top-- always pitching, never catching.

Over the last, umm, 29 days I've been having a wider variety of sexual fantasies. And in some of them, I catch.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 28 - Even the Breeze is Stiff

2007-02-25T23:58:00.000-08:00

One more day like today, and I may not make it. It honestly felt like I erect from the moment I woke up. I'm mostly erect now.

There's a scene in 40 Days and 40 Nights where the lead character, in an effort to curb his impulses, is shown working on a model car. He's shaking like a leaf. Well, I build models as a hobby (not cars, though, military stuff in my case), and I spent most of the day working on a project in an effort to distract myself from the raging boner I was dealing with. Luckily, the whole shaking-like-a-leaf part is bullshit. Because if it were real, I wouldn't be able to do anything. But like the movie, it didn't really help anyway.

I managed some respite while having dinner with friends, though. For that hour or so, I was able to think of something other than counting the days down to the 3rd. And even still, there were plenty of women around to distract me. While walking to the restaurant, there was a striking Asian woman walking the opposite way on the sidewalk carrying a bottle of wine. (She even came with her own alcohol!) There was a large party at the place we ate, and at the table one of the women (who seemed to be date-less) was a striking black woman. We actually made eye-contact at one point, but that was the extent of it. The way the last few nights have been going, I can probably count on her haunting my dreams.

Earlier, I thought to myself, "If only I could at least get some quality make-out time." Now, after being like this off and on all day, I think even making-out would make me cream in my pants. Now I go off to sleep. I need a less-comfortable blanket. This microfleece one I have, last night it felt like it was caressing me...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 27 - One Week From Today

2007-02-24T23:20:00.000-08:00

...I'm gonna have the most powerful orgasms I've had since the day I discovered masturbation.

A little over two years ago, I took a class called "The Art of Living". I was extremely skeptical, because it sounded very new-agish and all. And it seemed to be very focused on the East Indian community, which I'm not exactly going to blend into very easily. But the person who suggested it was someone I trusted, and I went. It was a very positive experience, though like many things I've tried that had positive impact, I managed to fall out of the habits.

So today, I decided to get back into the habit. I went to a local weekly meditation this morning, where I stood out like the proverbial sore thumb; only white person there, and 5-6 inches taller than anyone else. It was awkward, as I'd forgotten a lot of the mechanics, but eventually I got back into the rhythm. The next thing is for me to make certain I go again next week. There have been so many things in the past that I've tried to do in the name of self-improvement, and to the one I always end up falling out of the habit after a few months or so.

Unlike a lot of people, I can't change my habits, or create new ones, very easily. In fact, it's extremely difficult. Trying to change my diet in an effort to lose weight... trying to get up earlier so that I can exercise even a little bit... all of these are things that I sincerely want to do, but regularly fail to do. For someone as adept at software engineering as I've proven to be, I'm stunningly absent-minded when it comes to remembering new additions to daily routines.

In other news, last night I dreamed that I was once again able to, ahem, attend to my own needs. It's a wonder I didn't wake up swimming in my own fluids. It felt so real, I couldn't believe my luck (and upon waking, realized that I was right not to). I tell you, if I ever manage to get to where I can do that again, I may never leave my apartment. I sure as shit won't be trying any "33 Days" stunts like this one again...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 26 - Is It Really Just One Week Away?

2007-02-23T23:17:00.000-08:00

It occurs to me that if I can hold out for just one more week, just seven more days beyond today, I will have reached my goal. I might actually, err, pull this off.

My nuts feel like they're the size of grapefruits. I know, on an intellectual level, that there's really little effective difference between the quantity of pent-up, ummm, energy between seven days and twenty-six days. It's purely psychological, I know, to think that the quantity and force of the orgasm I have on the 3rd will be that much different that if I'd broken down on day eight and gone scrambling for the stash of porn.

But it's going to feel like it, whether it's true or not. I'm not sure what I'll do on that day. I'm not dating anyone, and I'm not exactly a pick-up artist so I can't just assume that I can go to a bar or club and pull. I'm trying really hard to get out of the habit of commercial sex (this stunt is part of that larger effort), so I'm not letting myself think in those terms. At least, not yet. But it seems like it would be a shame to, well, "waste" what is going to a monumental emission on the porcelain of my bath-tub. On the other hand, I feel like if I were to be getting a blowjob I'd be obligated to warn my partner that there may be an issue of, well, volume.

Yeah, a long, slow, sloppy blowjob would be the ideal way to celebrate my birthday...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 25 - Trying to Bridge the Gender Gap

2007-02-22T23:58:00.000-08:00

A commenter on one of my earlier posts remarked on how much rarer sex-blogs by men are, compared to those by women. He even pointed to my own blogroll, which is certainly dominated by women. A couple of the blogs are group-efforts that include men, and I think that Retrofap has men behind it (though they've been silent way too long). Aside from that, though. The only real male representation is the husband half of Polyamorously Perverse. So over the next few weeks, I'm going to be looking for some male-written blogs that I can enjoy enough to add to the blogroll. In my own defense, there used to be some male-written blogs there, but most of them stopped updating so I removed them. In fact, one of the first ones I linked to was "Living the Bi Life". A shame he quit writing.

One thing I did earlier was to add Jefferson's blog, which I've been reading via RSS for a while, now. I'm probably more envious of him than of anyone else I read. Not just that he's having that much sex, but more that he's in an environment, a circle of people where there's that much going on. Alas, the cruel twist is that the more I ardently long for such, the more desperate I become and thus the less likely that I'd ever get invited into such a social circle. Finding, and striking, that balance is the trick. And for me, it's an extremely difficult one.

In vow news, it was a busy day, so while it was always on my mind, there wasn't any real time to be adequately tempted. But the weekend is coming up on me, and after nearly four weeks I'm seriously gagging for it...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 24 - Celebrity Crushes

2007-02-21T23:56:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned it in passing before, but I tend to crush on celebrities, actors in particular. I'm a huge movie buff, so it stands to reason that I'd be partial to them.

Most of my crushes make perfect sense, are even passé at this point-- I was drooling over Angelina Jolie the minute I saw her in Hackers and had subsequently rented Cyborg 2. And while I've been weak in the knees for Kate Winslet ever since Heavenly Creatures and Jude, my fan-cred is diminished by the fact that not even the promise of her breasts would get me to see Titanic. (But let's be fair: in Jude, you get full-frontal. What did I need to see Titanic for? I already knew that the boat was going to sink.)

Not all of them make as much sense. For example, I'm totally ga-ga over Bai Ling. She's everything I don't generally like in a woman: petite, rail-thin, almost completely flat-chested. But something about the attitude she gives off. From the first thing I saw her in (The Crow), to one of the cheesiest vampire movies ever to go straight to video (which is saying a lot in that sub-genre), The Breed. And then there was the Playboy layout. Woof. The only issue of Playboy I still own. I usually get the issues with notable celebrities in them... Belinda Carlyle, Shannon Doherty, Tiffany (the '80s singer), etc. But even when I was getting rid of stuff last year, I kept this one. And please, it's just Playboy, it's not like she's going all split-beaver for Hustler or High Society. That said, I rubbed more out to her issue than probably all of the others combined. (Except, maybe, the two that Vanity appeared in. I should have kept them, as well.)

She was a guest on tonight's episode of "Lost". And just as sexy as ever, even flashing a tattoo in one scene. Then, to keep the theme going, I got around to watching this week's episode of "The L Word" off my DVR, and was treated to (naked) guest appearances by Sandrine Holt and Kristanna Loken. Not necessarily big crushes, but I'm sure as hell not complaining. Ms. Lokken's nipples that were cleverly covered by hair in Terminator 3? Very nice. That she was in a sex scene with one of the female principles didn't hurt (hey, I'm just as entranced as the next male).

Luckily, I put the Playboy out of reach with the other porn.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 23 - And Counting

2007-02-20T23:20:00.000-08:00

I wonder if I'm actually losing my libido by doing this. That, or things are simply crushing on me so much that it's affecting it, and the fact that it coincides with this effort is just coincidence.

Seeing that I'm not as happy at the new job as I thought I'd be, I've been looking at job listings that go past on a site that only lists jobs specific to my specialty. Currently, there are almost three times the job listings for companies in London, than there are for companies here in Silicon Valley. Oh yeah, I made a doozy of a choice, picking here over London...

Still, only 10 more days of this, then I plan to reward myself. Just not sure how, yet...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 22 - Two-Thirds There

2007-02-19T22:51:00.000-08:00

Had today off. I think I'm over the frenetic impulses of the last few days, because today wasn't nearly such an issue.

Tired now, I had my weekly Russian lesson, after having missed last week due to being near-death with the flu (well, it felt near-death at the time).

Calling it a night for now.

Спокойной ночи...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 21 - Nothing But Downers Today

2007-02-18T23:46:00.000-08:00

Today was going to be the day I gave up. Mentally, I had given up. I'm in the second day of a three-day weekend (I have tomorrow off), and pretty much everything that could go badly has. A craft project of mine was so badly damaged that I have had to buy a replacement kit and start re-doing about 75% of what I'd already completed. I've been watching "The State Within", recorded from BBC America, and besides depressing me with the flagrant parallels in our fucked-up administration and their fucked-up War On (Some) Terror, combined with all the Britishisms make me regret all the more not having moved. A few other things have gone past my eyes today, many of which have done a bang-up job of reminding me of other dreams I've pissed away.

So I was pretty much in a "to hell with it" mood, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I know the pleasure is fleeting, but right now I could use even a fleetingly-small amount of pleasure. But I'm almost at the 2/3 mark, the goal is almost within sight. So I made it through today. But this whole plan has lost its amusement for me. I don't know that I have anything left to learn from it.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 20 - Giving Myself a Hand

2007-02-17T22:42:00.000-08:00

No, I still haven't broken down and gone on a mad masturbatory spree. But I sure thought about it a lot, today. I didn't go out much, but everywhere I went, every store I went in, the special-of-the-day seemed to be erect nipples and full, ripe lips.

For some reason, it also occurred to me to think back on how long it's been since I wanked for a partner. With my long-term partner P in Denver, I used to do so pretty often. She loved watching me, and watching it spurt out when I came. Sometimes she would "help out" by licking me to provide lubrication. I think the most recent, though, was probably E. But that would still mean that it was sometime in early-to-mid 2001. What a shame... wanking for a partner (and watching them wank, as well) is pretty hot.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 19 - One Day At a Time

2007-02-16T17:22:00.000-08:00

Just... get through... today. Worry about tomorrow and the thirteen after it later.

*sigh*

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 18 - Pick a Card

2007-02-15T23:20:00.000-08:00

Oh boy, but today was hard. In both senses of the word.

Fever having broke, my energy and appetite(s) were back. As it happened, I had a doctor's appointment already today, a check-up on a weight-monitoring program they have me on (lost 6 pounds in the last four weeks!). They gave me a clean bill of health flu-wise, and told me that I needed to be eating more protein in my diet (no wisecracks from the peanut gallery... especially Gracie and BBG). Too much of the weight was from lean body mass, not enough from fat. But they said it was better than not having lost any weight at all!

It felt good to have an appetite for real food again. Last week's local weekly alt-paper (the Metro) had a cover story on the local Koreatown district that also featured a round-up of several restaurants. I'd been dying to try them out, since Korean is one of my favorite cuisines.

But other appetites came back with a vengeance, as well. And I'd have buckled, too, except that I fell back on an old decision-making trick. See, I often know that when I'm considering going to see an escort, that it's the wrong thing to do, at least at the time. Maybe money is tight, maybe I know deep-down that my real issues-of-the-moment are loneliness, things that an hour with a sex worker won't help. But I'm an addict, see, so just knowing that it's "wrong" isn't enough. So I let the cards tell me. No, not Tarot. Just ordinary cards.

I shuffle the deck, and I decide on a color. Usually, I choose red in honor of the reddish-pink I'm considering paying to see. I cut, and I take the top three. If the majority are red, I decide I'm going to go ahead and do it. If I haven't already, I find someone I'm interested in seeing. Usually, there are 2-4 that catch my eye, so I use the deck again. I try to start with either exactly two or four. I do the same basic thing, assigning colors to the people (or to pairs when there are four) and choose by the majority. Repeat if necessary. I don't always go this route, sometimes I'm absolutely sure of myself, and my reasons for choosing to go the commercial route and I just do it. But today, I was torn between keeping to my goal, or getting my ashes hauled.

Fortunately for my vow, it wasn't in the cards.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 17 - The Pivot

2007-02-14T23:43:00.000-08:00

This is it. The exact half-way point; there are as many days to go as there are behind me. Aside from the little nocturnal "thing" night before last, I'm still with it.

And it's driving me nuts.

Today is Valentine's. Say what you will about the crass commercialism. Part of me is still a hopeless romantic, and being alone on this day brings me down. To be fair, the last time I had an SO on Valentine's was 2001. That was E, whom I think I might have mentioned before. She was amazing in a lot of ways. One of the most passionate lovers I've ever known, and very adventurous. She worked for Good Vibrations during most of the time we were together. Oh, the times she'd look at me and say, "There's something new I got at work today that I want to try out." I miss that...

Today was really hard, temptation-wise. Not that I was extra-horny... I'm still on the tail end of being sick (fever broke overnight, thankfully). Just the overwhelming desire to feel some human touch. I prowled Craigslist, but seeing a sex worker wasn't an option (too broke, and it would be inconsiderate to risk making someone sick, if I'm still contagious at all) and the handful of casual-encounters ads I answered yielded nothing (except for the one that was actually spam, responding to which triggered an auto-response trying to get me to visit a dating website). If any of them had panned out, I'd probably have blown the whole goal.

Guess it's just as well for me that they didn't.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 16 - Oops

2007-02-13T23:27:00.000-08:00

This post I've had to back-date by an hour or so, to make it fall on the correct date. I've slept pretty much all of today, except for a little bit earlier when I woke up long-enough to bathe, re-hydrate and check e-mail (and post the Valentine-thing). Should have just done the 33 Days post then, but I went back to sleep.

In other news, I had some intensely-sexual dreams last night. Figures, they come amidst high fevers. I had a nocturnal semi-emission, no less: I woke up at one point on the brink of orgasm, but it only leaked a little bit before the swelling subsided. It was kind of cool! My entire adolescence, I never had a wet dream. The only one I've ever had was my freshman year of college...

I still remember a lot about the dream itself. The woman was Asian, I remember that. At this point, I'd only dated other Caucasian women (and had the on-off affair with the black woman). Granted, I encountered a lot of Asian people in the engineering department, but I hardly fantasized about Asian women specifically. I remember her reaching up to me from the bed, pulling me down to her and pulling me into her. I remember there being kissing. But what I remember most, is that I was already fairly certain it was a dream (usually, when I realize I'm dreaming I can still stay asleep for a while and enjoy it), and it was the first time I could think of that I actually orgasmed in a dream. I remember thinking that it felt so good, when I came. Then her face faded and I woke up. Woke up kind of abruptly, too, due to the sudden damp stickiness around my shorts (a problem I've since solved by sleeping naked!). Fortunately, I was able to clean up and change and get back to sleep without waking my dorm-mate, who was even more sexually-obsessed than I was, and would have made a serious production out of it had he known. (Only weeks before, drunk on Wild Turkey, he'd confessed that he knew I was wanking with some frequency, and explained the ways in which he'd been keeping tabs on me. Yeah, that feeling you got just then from reading that? Pretty much how I felt at the time, too.)

Dausa

Mmm... Anonymous Electronic Expressions

2007-02-13T14:23:00.000-08:00

This has the potential to be really disappointing for me, but I'll take the risk. Blame it on the fever addling my brain right now, normally I wouldn't go for something like this:

Get your own valentinr

I won't see them until 6AM tomorrow, and you can always do it anonymously...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 15 - I'm Getting A Few Free Days

2007-02-12T23:58:00.000-08:00

Very sick. Missed work, will almost certainly miss it again tomorrow and maybe even Wednesday. When I am this sick, sex (even wanking) is pretty far from my mind.

Nothing else witty or insightful that I can think of. Only woke up to re-hydrate, then remembered I needed to post.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 14 - Two Weeks, Unusual Cravings

2007-02-11T23:48:00.000-08:00

Two weeks. Wow.

I notice that I seem to be more prone to bisexual fantasies and, well, cravings. No better word to describe it, really. There's probably some deeper meaning to it, but I'll be hanged if I understand it. I've been having vivid recollections of the times I've played with other men (TVs and TSs, mostly). Really vivid. When I am tempted to browse the casual encounters ads, it's the T4M section I imagine browsing. Hmm.

-D

Nudie Link

2007-02-11T22:59:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've linked to any nude galleries before, but Eufrat over at MC Nudes has these wonderful smiles in several of the photos. I just couldn't resist.

-D

The Bizarro World That is Orange County

2007-02-11T19:51:00.000-08:00

Irvine cop jacks off onto a woman he stalked and pulled over.

But it's OK-- she's a stripper, so he was not guilty on all three felony counts:

"She got what she wanted,” said Stokke. “She's an overtly sexual person."

How exactly does that work, again?

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 13 - They're Everywhere, I Tell You, Everywhere!

2007-02-10T23:58:00.000-08:00

Lips. They're everywhere. Teasing me with their fullness, with their puffiness. Lips I have no right to be coveting, especially considering what purpose I'm coveting them for.

I ask you, how am I supposed to keep to my vow with all the lips everywhere? Today I went up to Petaluma. But everywhere I stopped, every time I looked over at another driver, I saw lips that I just knew would give good head. Not even two weeks, and I'm already in this state.

I fear falling asleep. I know they'll be waiting for me in my dreams.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 12 - A Short One

2007-02-09T23:48:00.000-08:00

If I had more days as frantic and busy as today, I wouldn't have to worry about obsessing over my attempts to keep my hands off myself.

But, now that I'm home and relaxing, I'm really jonesing for a good suckin'...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 11 - Jealousy

2007-02-08T23:25:00.000-08:00

Day 11 of captivity. Captivity of my tackle, that is.

I have to confess to being prone to jealousy. I'm achingly jealous of all of you who are having regular, wonderful, dirty, kinky, loving, rough, gentle, wet, messy, drawn-out, quickie, furtive, languid, solo, duo, group, decadent sex.

Let's be clear, though, and not confuse my jealousy with resentment. By no means do I resent any of you. I don't resent any of the thousands (possibly tens of thousands) of people in my metro area having sex right this minute. I'm just jealous, insanely, sadly jealous of those of you who have partners in your life. Partners who fit you emotionally as well as physically. Some of you have more than one. More that one! There are some of us starving over here! I read your posts, and I ache to have a fraction of what you have. I live vicariously through your writings, and this is why I persist in reading my blogroll throughout this, even as I swear off of porn and erotica. Still, I wonder what it must be like to be in an urban area like Jefferson and the others in NYC, or have a committed relationship as passionate as the ones enjoyed by SalaciousDesires, BBG, or BBG's partner in MILFBlog. I'd love to be able to travel to the parts of the country where I might be able to meet AAG or la fille mariée.

It seems almost silly, to be pledging off of sex when I don't have a partner anyway. That's why avoiding wanking is an important part of the vow; otherwise it really wouldn't be different than any other 33 days of my life (at least lately).

Just don't stop, OK?

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 10 - Double Digits, CBW & BJs

2007-02-07T23:54:00.000-08:00

Wow! Ten days! To think, I only gave myself five days, six max.

It's Wednesday, and I haven't done a cock-blogging Wednesday post in a while. Over at la fille mariée, I commented on one of her posts where she was reflecting on how she wants to become the best she can possibly be at that most critical-to-the-advancement-of-humanity skills: the blowjob.

I offered my proverbial two cents' worth, but for CBW I just want to ruminate on the three best BJs I can remember. Since I have another 23 days to go before I can look forward to one, memories will have to be enough for now. Besides, my first nine posts have been whine, whine, whine, poor me wanting to wank and not letting myself. So here's some walking in my memories, some wonderful memories that I can call upon to keep me warm at nights...

First, and most recently, was one of the people I met during my "Craigslist experiment". I mentioned him in glowing terms at the time, but let's just be that much more explicit. As I mentioned, this guy has a tongue-stud. I love piercings. Especially when the piercing is working my hard-on. I don't buy the premise that gay men just naturally give better head... I've had head from men as mediocre as the most mediocre of head from women. That said, this is the best BJ I can remember. And it came from a guy. Make of that what you will. He didn't use his hands at all. It was all tongue and lips. He laid me on his bed, on my back, with my ass at the edge. He placed his hands on either side of my hips and lowered his face to my cock. It wasn't fully hard yet, so he took what I had to offer and started warming it up. It didn't take long to get it hard. Man, that stud felt amazing. He took me from tip to base, doing things I can't even put into words. I am not exaggerating when I say he spent over twenty minutes working me over. There were at least five times that I was sure I was about to explode, and each time he expertly stopped at just the right moment. Here's something he did, that was certainly augmented by the piercing, that drove me nuts: he would take it as deep as he could, then slowly withdraw, going even more slowly over the last few inches. That's not the special part, the special part is that for these last few inches, he pulled back (down and away from my crotch) in a way that normally would make the tip pop out of his mouth. But he used counter-pressure from his tongue to keep it in his mouth. The net effect was to create a level of suction and pressure that I had never felt before. Finally, finally he let me have my orgasm. And it was good.

Second one that comes, ahem, to mind... the first time I visited that sex worker who rocked my world. That post has a nice blow-by-blow (again, ahem) of our first time together, but here I'll just focus on the oral she graced me with. She's the one whom I've referred to before as having done a lot of rimming (I didn't know ahead of time that was coming, but thankfully I'd washed myself very thoroughly in my pre-session shower). Before she even took me in her mouth, she'd gotten me harder than I could (at the moment) remember with all the rimming. So when she finally took me in, I was sure I'd explode immediately. She went deep, deeper than I would have thought someone as petite as her could. She used her hands a little more than I usually like, but her tongue never stopped moving, so I barely noticed. God, I was so sure I was going to lose it sooner than I wanted to. Eventually, we stopped and moved on to straight sex. But later, after I'd had time to recover from my first orgasm, she started in on me again and refused to stop until I'd come from her oral attentions.

Thirdly (and for now lastly), I go back a good deal further to before I left Oklahoma for Colorado. It was the first time with someone I'd end up eventually living with and exploring in many more ways, with. But that first time, just stands out. To be fair, this is the more emotionally-vested of the three, so I'm probably embellishing it in my memory. But what I remember is how warm and wet her mouth was, that first time as she slowly took me in and inched her way down. She came closer to taking the full length than anyone before her had, and that last little inch or so of sensory input made me feel like I was going to die from the pleasure. I remember thinking that I had probably fallen asleep in front of the TV and was just having a dream-- after all, I was not the sort who manages to seduce the hot next-door-neighbor into a blowjob. But it was real, all right. I don't remember how long it lasted, but I do remember her taking the time to lick and nuzzle around the base of my cock, not just the balls. it was like she was getting a buzz from the musky scent between the base and the join of my legs to my groin. She swirled her tongue in little circles along the underside, stopping at that magical spot just underneath the head that drives me crazy, before sucking right there and trilling her tongue on the ridge of the glans. When I came, and boy did I come, she swallowed me completely. And when I passionately kissed her afterwards, I had unknowingly passed a secret test in my willingness to do so. Men: if you don't like the thought of kissing her after she's swallowed, you'd best remember that the alternative is that she never swallows again. Deal with it.

Enough for tonight.

Dausa

Jon Stewart on Ted Haggard

2007-02-06T23:35:00.000-08:00

Reacting to the "news" that ultra-gay-bashing former-Reverend Ted Haggard is now decidedly straight:

Sad news for the gays, as they're referred to: unfortunately, they've lost one of their own, this evening, Ted Haggard. The Evangelical preacher, whom you know was caught doing meth and blowing dudes, um, the Denver Post is reporting he is now COMPLETELY HETEROSEXUAL. He went through a three-week, very intensive... of course, a lot of people would say, "How did they do it? How did they turn this clearly, uh, gay man into a heterosexual?" It's very simple. You know when you were a kid, and your father caught you smoking? And, uh, then he decided to make you smoke a carton? Ahhh... Ted's been a busy boy.

(I was living in Denver when that mess first hit the news. And I take unfair satisfaction at seeing that sort of hypocrite get busted and exposed. It's a flaw of mine, I know.)

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 9 - Despair Sets In, and More Links

2007-02-06T21:50:00.000-08:00

First, some new links on my blogroll. I swear, it seems like as soon as I swear off of orgasms for a month I find dozens of super-hot blogs I'd not seen before. Just added to the roster:

la fille mariée - Her writing is just hot. Simple as that.
Polyamorously Perverse - A very loving look as this couple starts exploring poly.
We Could be Naked - She's got just the kind of body I like, and she loves and writes about porn. What more could I want? (Except for her to be closer.)

Aside from that, I confess that things have gotten worse but not for the usual reasons. See, like most addicts, I tend to turn to my drug-of-choice when I get really down in the dumps. And these last few days have been tough. Funny thing is, the temptation is to find a partner of some sort-- I'm not really tempted to wank. Luckily, my tight budget has kept me honest. But the closer it gets to V-Day, the worse I imagine the depression will get.

Make no mistake-- I am delighted beyond measure to read about/hear about people having wonderful, amazing sex (and lots of it). But sometimes, sometimes, I just can't help being jealous. Eh, never mind me... it'll pass in a few.

-D

Sugasm #65

2007-02-05T23:50:00.000-08:00

Sugasm #65

Mon 5th Feb, 07

The best of this weeks blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #66? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Motel Meeting (http://lafillemariee.blogspot.com)
“As always though, coming together for us meant first holding, then kissing, groping, stroking, and suddenly, there we were, as always, naked, lying together, limbs intertwined on DG’s bed under the cozy, thick white duvet.”

My breasts are not safe for work - welcome to the pink ghetto (http://lustylady.blogspot.com)
“I love to find out things about people’s sex lives and thinking about sex that make me see them, and the topic at hand, in a new light, and often I learn about myself that way.”

Richard Evans Lee (http://www.sex-kitten.net)
“An increase in sexual empathy. Being able to put yourself in the other person’s heart would curb everything from infidelity to homophobia.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Sexual Chocolate (http://sugarbank.com)

Editor’s Choice

Midnight Conversations at the Tick Tock Diner (http://perverselypoly.blogspot.com)

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Decay (http://blog.myspace.com/tit_elation)
Fuck Me First (http://loladavid.wordpress.com)
Hands (http://onlyamirage.blogspot.com)
Heels, Stockings, Girdle, Bra, Face (http://aslipofagirl.blogspot.com)
Horny… Period! (http://dirtydetails.blogspot.com)
How Hip Swingster Got His Groove Back (http://fourstate.blogspot.com)
Reluctant Mary - Part Two (http://eroticjournals.blogspot.com)
Sex Party Redux (http://plum001.blogspot.com)
Trade (http://turnthelampsdownlow.wordpress.com)

Sex Advice, News, Reviews and Interviews

33 Days, 33 Posts: Prologue, or, This Is Gonna Hurt (http://dausa.blogspot.com)
Apple, sex toys and the genesis of the iPhone Vibrator (http://sextoysinsider.com)
Reader: But Will She Love My Penis? (http://smutandsteff.com)
Taco Tuesday: Toy Review 1 (http://themilfblog.blogspot.com)

BDSM and Fetish

Anxious Fuck (http://dirtylittlecockslut.blogspot.com)
Caution! The Story You Are About To Enjoy Is Extremely Hot - Part Two (http://stilettodiaries.blogspot.com)
Introducing Prisoner #4228 (http://pandorablake.blogspot.com)
The Itch, Part The Last (http://udoj.wordpress.com)
Little Miss Sunshine (http://sweatshopsissy.wordpress.com)
Meeboguest confesses: “I have been a bad boy again…” (http://anawtymouz.blogspot.com)
Quiet The Hum Part Five (http://kissingcorporalkate.wordpress.com)
Spanking on Honeymoon (http://www.spankingwriters.com/blog)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

Being Bisexual (http://eroticawriter.blogspot.com)
Cop a Feel, Show Me the Love (http://middleurge.blogspot.com)
Eyes Wide Open for Sexual Possibility (http://www.taratainton.com)
The Feminist Who Wanted to Be Fucked Like a Whore (http://brooklynrake.blogspot.com)
How About Now? (http://thismuse.blogspot.com)
Polyamory: The Great Sexual Alternative Lifestyle (http://www.model-chat.com)

Sex Work

A Lackluster Coming Out (http://www.radicalvixen.com/blog)

Sexy Humor

Meow (http://hard-and-fast.blogspot.com)
Seduction Outtake #17 (http://sabrinainstockings.com)
Who would YOU want to make submit? (http://principalquattrano.com)

NSFW Pics (& videos)

Angela Taylor Naked (http://eroticandy.blogspot.com)
Beautiful french maid upskirt (http://upskirtr.blogspot.com)
For Odysseus Love, Penelope (http://marriedexploits.blogspot.com)
Happy HNT - Dungeon Bondage Chair (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)
January’s Cartoon Babe of the Month! (http://secretbrain.blogspot.com)
Slaving Away (http://kitchen-girls.blogspot.com)
Stella & Sandra (movie) (http://myhotbox.blogspot.com)

French Maid Upskirt pic courtesy of Upskirtr.

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 8 - Today Was Just Too Easy

2007-02-05T22:30:00.000-08:00

You know what else will help you curb your sexual appetites? Depression.

External forces beyond my control brought me into the dumps today. I know I shouldn't let these things have that effect (see the "beyond my control" part), but they do. I worry about people and things. And my situation since moving back here hasn't been as elegant as I had thought it would be, what with the boost in salary over my last position. I suppose if my readership climbs enough, I can always go the AdSense route (not meaning that sarcastically, either-- several of my favorite blogs are AdSense subscribers so I figure I'll at least be in good company).

But between that, and having my weekly Russian Language lesson (eh, it's another long story, but I'm trying to learn Русский), I just never had the chance to worry about it, today. (No thanks to BBG, whose posts on MILFblog and her own blog were quite... inspiring. You'll be getting e-mail from me later this week.)

And, on a completely separate note: Hello to any new readers who found their way here from Sugasm. I recently submitted one of my posts (the start of this 33 Days project), and I am thrilled to have been included in Sugasm #65. Seriously-- to be included on my first time trying is an honor, guys. Thanks.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 7 - First Week Status

2007-02-04T22:48:00.000-08:00

The first week is completed. I've gone from frenetic to almost zen-like in my regard for this.

First off, I've developed a new level of admiration for people like AAG who do regularly manage to post at least once per day. It's no mean feat, and I can only hope that after 33 days of it, it's become a habit for me.

Secondly, I welcome the new readers I've acquired this past week or so. Starting this project has had a sort of domino effect: as part of it, I've also been more inclined to check out new blogs as I see them linked in places like Fleshbot and Sugasm. That's led to me being moved to comment on the excellent writing I've encountered, and that in turn has brought new people here. I'm really happy to have found some really good new (to me) blogs (mentioned a few posts back), and I'm thankful for good feed-reader software so that I don't have to try and visit every site every day!

Thirdly (and lastly), I've had to reconsider many of my habits that are directly at odds with my goal. I've given up on visiting porn sites (like the video site I mentioned a few days ago) just as I've had to put away the porn I own. Likewise the trolling of Craigslist under the auspices of "just looking". As BBG said in a comment on yesterday's post:

They encourage alcoholics to Walk in Dry Places, I'm curious as to why you would continue to tempt yourself with sex blogs etc. while going through this?

I'm not, however, going to stop reading the blogs I enjoy. I read them for reasons far greater than just titillation.I mean, some of the best ones (like Violet Blue) are almost 100% news-and-goings-on oriented. (Of course, her podcasts are a whole different story, but those too are being saved for the time being until the 33 days are up.) What I read, I read because I enjoy it, not because it's wanking fodder. Well, not just because. And I like to keep current with the goings-on of these people, only two of whom I've ever met, because I'm genuinely interested in how life is treating them. So vow or no vow, I'm going to continue reading the blogs. (So DDG and Gracie, do your worst ;-)

Dausa

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 6 - Our Relationship Is Built on Trust

2007-02-03T21:45:00.000-08:00

It occurred to me today (and I have no idea why it only just occurred to me today, and not five days ago) that no one reading this is anywhere near me, geographically. Or, if they are, they're not someone I know personally, and therefore not someone privy to me life or having access to it. In the silly movie I referenced at the start of this (40 Days and 40 Nights, for those late to the show), Harnett's character's vow becomes the subject of a global internet betting scheme. His roommate and some of his co-workers are involved in the creation and maintenance of the site/game, so the roommate is always checking up on him (often with an ultraviolet light, to check for tell-tale spots).What I'm getting at is this: there is nothing preventing me from rubbing my dick raw, squeezing out as many orgasms as my gonads will support, and yet claiming to still be on The Program.

Nothing, that is, except an honest desire to see this through.

When it gets right down to the root of it, I'm doing this for myself, to prove to myself that I still have some degree of control over my actions and behavior. The rest of you are, forgive me for saying, just along for the ride as spectators. I need this. I need to know that I'm the boss of my dick, not the other way around (like it is with my cat). My dick has been nudging me more and more into dangerous territory, so I need to rein it in. And when I have days like today, where just breathing makes me horny, I have to let my conscious, deliberate side run the show. Even when it feels like torture, and like I'm completely alone in it. I mean, when a recovering alcoholic is jonesing for a drink, he usually has someone in his AA group he can call. OK, bad example, since there are in fact SAA (Sex-Addicts Anonymous) programs, and I could get into one and have a sponsor and all that. But that sponsor is going to want to see me go without for longer than any 33 days, and that's more than I'm willing to commit to right now.

Ah well, another day closer to my goal. Now, I worry less about obvious temptation and more about the subtle things. Like, for example, when I bought a new bed and new sheets upon my return to California I splurged on flannel sheets and a microfiber blanket. I'm extra-aware of their softness against my skin, these days.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 5 - Movies I Can't Watch

2007-02-02T22:22:00.000-08:00

I was reading a post by recently-named Best Sex Blog winner Ilyana Lanai, where she refers back to Angelina Jolie's lesbian turn in Gia. (Just so you know... the cute blond she had that wonderful sex scene with? Now playing "Juliet" on Lost.)

My first impulse was to grab my copy of Gia (unrated edition, of course) and re-visit the scene. But that would be counter-productive to the cause. It got me to thinking about the other DVDs I have on hand, that are currently just as off-limits as my hardcore porn:

Sex and Lucia - Probably pretty obvious from the title. Paz Vega's rampant nudity (some deliciously full-frontal) is bad-enough, but there's a scene where Elena Anaya is describing a fantasy scene to the male lead, a scene in which her character is on a couch with a huge dildo playing with herself while watching porn on her TV. Woof.
Romance - Hearing French is almost enough to get me stiff, and the fact that this film featured un-faked sex in some of the scenes (without being as blatant as traditional porn) is even better. The female lead isn't as hot (to my tastes) as Paz Vega or Angelina, but I wouldn't kick her out of bed.
Irreversible - Few actresses currently working just drip sex like Monica Belluci does. You may want to skip the rape scene about mid-way through (it's so violent and explicit that most of the screening audience at Cannes walked out during it). But almost at the end, there's a scene with Belluci and real-life hubby Vincent Cassel. Probably not as real as in Romance, but damn that boy's drawn a winning karma-card this time around.
Y Tu Mamá También - When the three finally have the threesome you've been waiting all movie long for, there's hardly any really hot-and-heavy nudity at that point. But it would set me off, all the same. Oh so hot...

There are other movies just as spicy, but these are the ones I own. There are others I own that would not be so, ahem, dangerous. But these are off-limits for the time being.

Of course, if worse comes to worse, I can just rent The Brown Bunny and let the image of Vincent Gallo getting a true-to-life blowjob from Chloë Sevigny totally kill my libido.

-D

PSA: Wrap That Thumb!

2007-02-02T11:58:00.000-08:00

A German safe sex ad takes "fingerbanging" quite literally.

(Hat tip to Fleshbot's Morning Wood for today.)

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 4 - It Starts Getting (A Little) Easier

2007-02-01T22:57:00.000-08:00

I think I'll be getting through until I fall asleep, without any close-calls like I had yesterday, reading new blogs and watching videos. The reason I feel more confident, is that today I passed on probably the most tempting Redbook/Craigslist ad I've seen in years. A black woman of English/Scottish origin... according to Redbook, an almost perfect 10 rating and not a smoker. Tall, too. My perfect package: tall, exotic, GFE but not a smoker, all wrapped in an English accent.

But I chose to stick to my guns. And maybe it's just because I've been busier today than the last three days, but I'm not chomping at the bit like I was last night.

However I am, to be fair, much more acutely aware of my balls than usual. They seem more... sensitive... surely just my imagination.

-D

Some New Links

2007-02-01T18:17:00.000-08:00

Not ready with today's "33 Days" installment, yet. But I thought I'd point out some new links I've added to my blogroll. I suspect that I'll have to go through hoops to retain my links and other modifications (like the JavaScript I wrote for the "Read More" feature I use on longer/more-explicit posts) when I upgrade to the new formatting engine. Better to get as much of this in one place as I can, before I have to start hacking on the templates with the proverbial blowtorch and pliers.

Bad Bad Girl - Sweet Jesus, part of me is sure women like this only exist in fevered dreams and/or mainstream porn (I mean, look at the URL). But she seems real-enough, and since it's not like I'd ever meet her in person anyway, it's real-enough to keep reading. But hey, DDG? If you're ever in the bay area, call me?
Gracie's Playground - Just as hot, it seems, as BBG. And kinkier in some ways. She has a story of being fucked hard and rough in the bathtub that just about ended the whole "33 Days" experiment for me.
How About Now? - Intriguing blog by a woman who's recently taken to escorting. I'm smitten with the attitude she puts across.
The MILF Blog - Co-run by BBG and a friend of hers that I'll probably end up adding to the roll soon-ish. Toy reviews, hot talk, from extremely hot MILFs.
Retrofap - Mmmm... vintage porn, Russ Meyer starlets, Bettie Page. Hasn't updated much very recently, hope that changes.

I've also added a link to Sugasm, long past due. And one you all might be interested in... www.xxxuploads.com. Tons of user-uploaded videos that actually work in Firefox under Linux! No more having to reboot the laptop to WinXP to look at the porn! YAY! I don't have it linked on the sidebar (might, later), but I enjoyed it so much last night I just had to share. It's got all the Web2.0 buzz-features... tagging, user account that keeps track of your favorites, ratings-system clearly sprinkled with AJAXy goodness. And, like most YouTube-come-latelys, a lot of lame content. But it's also got some amazing content, as well. I may link to some of my favorites in the future. When I dare visit it again, that is.

Seriously-- between the porn and the new blogs, I've only barely kept my promise to myself. I'm going to have to avoid the video site until I finish the 33 days.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 3 - Oh, It's Hard All Right

2007-01-31T22:20:00.000-08:00

Actually, right this minute it's only about half-hard. Fleshbot presented another "take that, Dausa" moment with today's video. I don't want to wonder about the necessary mechanics of filming hardcore sex underwater, but her hair looks devastatingly sexy, flowing around her face like it does.

I came so very close to giving in. It's still way too early in this effort to crack so easily. Several enticing possibilities on the Craigslist m4m casual encounters forum. Multiple opportunities to go to someone's location, unzip, be blown, and leave without any pesky details. But that's the kind of reckless, emotionally-empty encounters I'm trying to break myself from.

It's Wednesday, known in our little sub-culture as Cock-Blogging Wednesday. So, I'm going to think about my friend a little bit, just to assure myself that this isn't about any self-loathing or anything.

The Girl has a survey she put together, asking men to make some honest judgments about how they regard their tackle. One thing I couldn't help but notice, some of her questions lack neutral answers. She asks if you (the reader) think that smaller is better or bigger. Then, asks whether you think women prefer smaller or larger. But neither question gives you an option of saying neither (other than just not ticking any of those boxes). No way to say that you think women (or at least, most of the women you've interacted with) are less concerned with size (big or small) than with skill (or lack thereof). She asks if you are happy with your own size, and if given the chance would you have a larger cock.

Well, I'm pretty damn happy with my little friend. I don't think I'd want mine much bigger, as all of my partners have been plenty happy with what I had to offer. And many of them have had lovers larger than myself (some significantly larger, in fact... at least one person has had two or more that were honestly 12" or more). And if there is anything I've prided myself on more than being an attentive lover, it's that I've managed to foster relationships where I could have these sorts of conversations in honesty. Even now, as I struggle to take this month-long break from orgasms, there's little I'd change about my dick. If anything, I'd opt to be a show-er rather than a grow-er. Neither I nor anyone I've dated has every seen a dick with such a range in growth. When soft, it's smaller than my thumb. If you see me in a completely deflated state, it's pretty unflattering. But once it grows, well, most people forget any misgivings they may have had. But first impressions do count for a lot. When I see dicks like the one Bad Bad Girl shows a picture of in this column, I can't help but be jealous a little bit. I don't have a semi-hard state like that-- for me it's either thumb-dick or billy-club. Maybe that's an erection shot... it looks more like semi-hard to me, but it could be fully-hard. Still, I wouldn't trade my cock for anyone else's, not even a porn stars. Mine makes my partners (when I have them) happy. And, more to the point, it makes me happy.

(Well, when I'm not trying to make a point to myself.)

Dausa

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 2 - OK, This Is In Fact Going to be Tough

2007-01-30T22:35:00.000-08:00

Oh boy. I was hasty in being so flippant yesterday. Today was a whole different story. Not even 48 hours since the last time I wanked, and I was almost ready to say to hell with it. I can't do that-- give up in just two days. Twelve, maybe, or even twenty. But not just two. My own fault... I meant to go and get at least a blowjob on Sunday, before embarking on this, so that I had the memory to rest on. But I didn't, I jerked off instead, and that wasn't nearly as satisfying.

And today's trials are my own fault, of course. I was killing time on Craigslist while some long-running tasks did their thing. First mistake. This is pretty much the equivalent of being on a crash-diet and going to window-shop at a gourmet foods store. So, yeah, it's pretty dumb of me. After about 20 minutes, I had a vicious boner. It was a good time to break for lunch. After a little time away from the computer, I was OK again.

Then, a few hours later, I was looking at Fleshbot (I know, I know), and saw this.

Oh. Wow.

Just watched it again, right now, in fact. It brings back memories... I've had sessions similar to that when I've been to a massage parlor in the past. Not with oil, though, usually just skin-on-skin. And that was clearly staged, unless the customer himself had arranged for the session to be taped (i.e., it's obviously not a hidden-camera video). But that woman, oh wow. So cute, and those glasses? Icing on the cake. I was (and am again) straining against my jeans so hard just moving around in my chair was tantamount to masturbation. And another 31 days yet, to go. I'm going to be a basket case.

In other news, I'm taking advantage of the extra time spent with Blogger to go back and tag my old articles. I hope to get a tag-cloud incorporated into the layout at some point, though I suspect I'll have to convert to the new-style layout engine to get it.

Oh, and this is, I believe, my 100^th post. Yay for me!

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 1 - It's Always Easy At First

2007-01-29T22:14:00.000-08:00

OK, obviously things are going to look easy after just the one day.

Of course, I did catch myself casually browsing over Craigslist.

Also, I may need an additional rule/exception: I all but forgot that there is someone I'd already promised to make a coffee-date with this week. It wouldn't exactly be fair to just blow her off, would it? Besides, I don't think I'm likely to click with this one anyway. But that's no excuse for leaving her hanging.

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Prologue, or, This Is Gonna Hurt

2007-01-28T23:42:00.000-08:00

In 40 Days and 40 Nights, Josh Harnett's character decides that his love life is out of control, so (despite being a very lapsed Catholic) he decided to give up sex for Lent. The ways in which this film becomes tedious and insultingly-stupid are numerous, and not worth listing here. But I mention it only as a point of reference. You see, I plan to go without for the next 33 days.

There are a lot of reasons why I choose this, and probably just as many (or more) why I shouldn't be doing it. First and foremost, while I may still cling proudly to the "unrepentant" banner, I have to admit that this is starting to seriously interfere with my life. I need to know that I can actually exert some amount of control over my own body, however small. In just under two months since returning to the bay area, I've done my "Craigslist Experiment" (which netted 3 different encounters), hooked up with two TVs whose ads I'd answered, and seen three commercial providers. I've been here since December 10. That's 8 different people in 7 weeks, and even for me that's a bad sign.

For me, addiction is best summed up in the statement, "you know it's harmful and destructive, and you do it anyway". I have no intention of trying to reign in my libido. I have no intention of becoming celibate for the rest of my life. In fact, part of the thinking behind the 33 day window is that it ends on March 3, my (and this blog's) birthday. And you can bet your soft, smooth ass that I'll be getting some form of nookie that day. Unless, of course, I've already failed in this effort.

Another facet of this, is to get back into the habit of regular posting. When I started, I wrote almost daily. Some of the blogs I read I can count on daily content, in particular AAG and Violet Blue. But I've been beyond lax in this department, and I strongly suspect it's cost me what little readership I had. The only way I know of to restore readership is to return to the regular writing of quality material. So, for the next 33 days, I shall be channeling all that energy that would otherwise be wasted on wanking into writing. One post per day. Not all of them will be quality, I accept. But maybe one or three will catch the eye of someone on some random search engine or blog-search somewhere. And maybe, along the way, I'll re-develop the habit of writing regularly again.

In this, I'm creating some rules for myself, more like allowable outs:

I'm not going to whack off, and I'm not going to either troll Craigslist casual encounters or any of the commercial-provider sources I generally use (CL erotic services, Redbook.com).
In fact, I'm not even going to try and date during this period, because I have a knack for being in someone's pants by the second or third date. Heck, the last true relationship I had lasted almost a year, and we screwed each other nearly senseless on our first date. Man, I miss her, too.
That said, should an offer of (free, both as in beer and as in speech) sex were to, ahem, fall into my lap, I reserve the right to punt this "33 Days" crap and tap that.
Each day, I will write an entry, with "33 Days, 33 Posts" in the subject line, and "33 days" in the tags. But if something really cool comes along that I want to share with my readers (what few there are that remain), I may make other posts. I doubt I'll reach Violet's throughput, but then Violet is a goddess and I can't really hope to match that anyway.
If I fuck up (so to speak), I'll be honest about it. Part of this is for the catharsis, and lying about things ain't gonna help.
There is no rule 6.
I still get to read sex blogs and sex-related stuff. Albeit at my own risk. I've already made the conscious decision to put my porn away in a hard-to-reach corner of one of my closets. But choosing not to wank is one thing; not reading Fleshbot or Erosblog is a whole different personal challenge.

So, there it is. 33 days, 33 posts, 0 orgasms. At least, that's the plan.

Dausa

Not So Sure Anymore...

2007-01-23T17:51:00.000-08:00

...that I made the right choice in coming back to California.

It's taken only a few weeks to lose all the positive momentum I had after I got my new place. A little longer after that and I was back to old patterns and habits. Not just the cruising-on-Craigslist, but also indulging in commercial providers. Which I've been forcing myself to abstain from for simple reason of budget. But still, I look and consider.

My friend back in Denver pointed out that even if I'd taken the job in London, I might very well be just as depressed there as I am here, maybe even for similar reasons. But last night, laying awake trying to fall asleep, something dawned on me: at least, had I gone to London, I could say that I did something. I tried, I took steps to make a major change in my life. It might not have worked out like I thought it would, but at least I would have had the assurance of having tried. Instead, I look around my apartment, around the bay area, and think to myself: "Didn't get far, did you? Moved 8 miles, into a smaller apartment. Well played."

Saturday night, I went up to San Francisco for Perverts Put Out. As used to be the case, convincing myself to dress nicely and leave the apartment was akin to pulling teeth. The event was stunning; I'll need to do a separate post just about it alone. Of course, once there, I was enjoying myself. But eventually it was over, and I had another Saturday night to go home alone. It was so tempting to go somewhere cruise-y like Blow Buddies or Divas. But I'd spent all the persuasion I could muster just getting myself out of the house. It was the first time I've been back to SF since moving back here last month (actually, the second-- the actual first was for the memorial service for a friend's mother, thus my mind was otherwise occupied that afternoon).

I haven't made any effort to revisit my "Craigslist experiment". There's a lot to be said for quick, no-strings gratification. But just because I'm an addict doesn't mean I don't feel any emotional needs or impulses (the lack of emotional expression comes from the Asperger's, not the addictive nature). OK, that was a weak joke. I don't intuitively form those sorts of connections like others do, but I still crave them. And the CL route was just teasing the appetite, not appeasing it. To make matters worse, there's fuck-all to choose from in terms of independent video stores in my general area (that is to say, those that are not Blockbuster or Hollywood Video). So I don't even have the kind of access to porn I had at the previous address.

(On the plus side, it was around this time last year that I broke my foot, so living a live free of crutches is worth being thankful for. I'm just already dreading the steady march towards Valentine's Day, and my recent attempts at dating haven't panned out very well.)

-D

Men Are Sluts: My Own Craigslist "Experiment"

2007-01-08T17:44:00.000-08:00

So, as I alluded to in a previous post, I'm really in awe of how slutty men are, in general. Now, don't go sending me condescending e-mails that mostly say "DUH!". I didn't say I was surprised, just in awe. Likewise, I understand that politicians on the whole are corrupt and money-driven; I'm still entitled to be in awe of the sheer hubris of people like Tom Delay.

But back to my point: the sluttiness of the male. And not just your garden-variety male, but gay and bi men in particular. See, I learned a valuable lesson a long time ago: if I'm really jonesing for a blowjob, there are plenty of gay/bi men (possibly closeted) who are more than happy to oblige.

Actually, I learned two lessons. The above, and just as importantly, that even though I am somewhat heavy-set and fairly hairy, that's not the detriment with men that it often is with women. Indeed, it can be a bonus! There's a whole sub-culture within gaydom devoted to my body-type: the bear. And there are plenty of self-identified "bear chasers" out there. So, while I'm still trying to lose weight for simple health and self-image reasons, it's not getting in the way in the meantime.

Thursday, I placed an ad on the m4m part of the casual encounters section of Craigslist in the south bay area. It was simple, and to the point: tall bear wants a no-strings-attached blowjob. Honest description of my body, and vague reference to what area I lived in.

I had responses literally within minutes of the ad being posted.

That day, I had three encounters, though to be fair the third was from an ad that I had answered, to go fool around with a tranny (more on that in a later musing). I referred briefly to the two ad-related encounters in an earlier message-- one was mind-blowing, the other disappointing. The latter was disappointing because I hadn't bothered to get a picture of the person first, and he turned out to be a much older man. Having just come my brains out a few hours earlier, it was going to be a feat to perform again so soon (I'm not as young as I used to be, and letting my health go has had other undesired effects). Unfortunately, I really couldn't. Started out OK, but it just wasn't there (even when I broke my own rules and tried to picture straight porn, or even the earlier experience, in my head).

But the first guy? Woo hoo. Younger, clean-cut, and a pierced tongue. I'm such a sucker for piercings. And boy could he use it. He worked me over from tip to taint for a good 20 minutes or more. If we didn't both have places we had to get to, we might still be at it still. I've never been with someone so adept at sensing when I was about to pop and backing off before I passed the point of no return. I can't even describe the sensations in most of the cases, but it may actually be the single best BJ I've ever had. And I've had a lot, let me tell ya. I might go see this one again, if he's amenable.

Mind you, replies continued to come in. I was going to see one person on Friday, someone who actually was hoping for more out of the encounter-- cuddling, etc. I'm not necessarily opposed to that, but it wasn't what I was looking for at the moment, so he got filed away for later. Several got deleted outright; I know it's happened to me plenty of times when I've answered ads, so I don't feel any guilt over it. I saw another one on Saturday. Also older, also less attractive, but almost as good as the guy on Thursday so what he lacked in eye-appeal he made up for with sleight-of-tongue.

Counting him, the one that fizzled, and the TV, that's four encounters in three days. So understand that when I call men sluts, I'm well aware that I'm just as guilty. I guess what shocks me is that the the sluttiness is so highly concentrated, so tightly focused. The gay bathhouse scene was a notable part of the early rapid spread of HIV in the 80's. The clubs I've gone to over the years have had strict latex rules, but only because of the damage already done; back then condoms were considered only for preventing pregnancy and thus were hardly necessary between two men. What I'm saying is, this goes back decades. I wonder sometimes if even Oscar Wilde wouldn't be a more than a little shocked at what goes on these days in the world of gay men.

Here's the rub: not all of the men cruising these ads would identify as gay or bi, even in private, even in the confidence of a therapist's office. They just don't see themselves as such. And the men who are, they know and understand this, too. Watch for ads calling for "str8" (straight) dick to suck. For some of the suck-ers, the straight-ness of the suck-ee is just as thrilling a novelty as the thought of having a guy on his dick instead of a girl is for the suck-ee. And all because we men are basically sluts, and when it comes to coming, we'll do just about anything to do so (especially if we're pretty sure we won't get caught).

You just don't hear about things like this in the world of women, regardless of orientation. I mean, I've had female friends who went through self-identified "slutty phases". One friend occasionally posts to CL casual encounters in her geographical area (and don't even bother asking me because I'm not telling). Posts looking for men, and always gets upward of 200 replies. And she's a big girl, honest and upfront about it in her post. Gives her height and her weight, so that they can't claim to be surprised when/if they meet her. Still rakes in the replies. Some of the men are bonafide "chubby chasers", but most are just so intent on fucking that they'll hook up with someone they wouldn't otherwise acknowledge on the street. But she's the exception; I'd wager that 98% or more of traffic on the "w4m" part of casual encounters these days is either commercial spam or photo-phishing (scammers collecting photos that they can then use to create false accounts and/or post false ads elsewhere, where a photo would be needed).

And if there is even 2% that's legit, in my area, either I haven't responded to them or I wasn't to their liking. Because I'm just as bad as the rest, and frequently answer women's ads in the hope of one day finding that rare gem, a real woman who'll fuck me to the point of oblivion then dress and leave. No questions asked.

(Of course, it helps that I figure any photos of me are already in the hands of all the phishers, so I have little to lose.)

Dausa

Men Are Sluts: Prologue

2007-01-05T01:00:00.000-08:00

Before I get to the longer post tomorrow or over the weekend, let me reflect and ruminate on us men.

God, we're sluts.

I mean, it's no secret that if you're a woman, and you want to get laid right now, hop on over to Craigslist and post an ad. You'll have literally hundreds of responses in an hour, usually less. Even if you don't consider yourself attractive, there are men who will find your body-type attractive. More to the point, there are men who will simply find the fact that you are in possession of a vagina attractive.

If you're a man and straight, however, it's a different story. Lotsa luck, write and let us know when you find work.

But, if you're gay, or bi, or just unconcerned when it comes to getting sucked off, you have another option. Post in the men-for-men forum. You won't get hundreds, but you'll get replies. Why? Why else? Men are total sluts when it comes to this. This is obvious not just from the replies, but from the number of straight men who do actually go this route, and consider themselves straight all the same. They know the score.

As for me? I do identify is at least somewhat bi. I'm not a 3 on the Kinsey Scale by any stretch. More like fluctuating between φ and e on the scale, as my mood moves me. And when I turn down that road for gratification, I'm not pretending that it's a woman with a remarkably flat chest. I don't "prime" myself with straight porn and then keep my eyes squeezed shut. But I do sometimes think of Margaret Cho, when she said (something to the effect of), "I used to think I was bisexual, but then I realized I'm just slutty." I have a more-than-passing interest in this, and I think in 2007 I'll be writing a little more about that.

But my point is, if you want your dick sucked and fast and don't care if it's a guy doing the sucking, craigslist is your friend. And that is how I happened to be blown not once but twice today. One only so-so and one that was fucking amazing. But the details of that are for my upcoming post...

-D

Gay-Bi-Dar Before You Yourself Know

2007-01-05T00:50:00.000-08:00

A short note, before I get to a longer post later on (probably tomorrow or over the weekend). When I was in college, I was in the marching band. In high school, being in band was a cause for scorn. But in college, the band was cool. And since it was cool, it was clique-ish, and I didn't fit in.

Like most my age, in a bass-ackwards place like Oklahoma, I associated accusations of homosexuality with insults and disdain. So, when I found myself regarding certain key members of the band (all male, all high in the pyramid of power) as most likely gay, I chided myself for falling into such a clichéd cycle. It's not like I would have known, anyway, straight and inexperienced as I was at the time.

Years later, I had a brief relationship with someone who had been in the band a few years before myself (she was six years older than I, and she may be the subject of an upcoming post). She knew all of these people when they themselves were freshmen first coming in. Now, I didn't ask her about their orientation... it wouldn't have come up, except that she had married someone she started dating in band, and they'd divorced fairly recently when he came out of the closet. Through him, she learned that there had been a sizable "gay underground" within the band (though, why gays would feel the need to be underground in this group puzzled me, as even though we may have been in Oklahoma this ensemble was fierce in its support of the out gay/lesbian/bi members). And wouldn't you know it, almost everyone I'd mentally labeled as gay was in fact.

Did I actually exhibit gaydar that many years before I'd start exploring my bi side?

-D

Against All Odds...

2006-12-31T18:32:00.000-08:00

...Craigslist might be instrumental in my getting out for New Year's Eve, and possibly even getting some, as well. Having just moved the rest of my shit from Denver back here to the bay area, I had almost written NYE off.

If it works out, I promise details!

Edit: Nope. Shoulda' known better than to get my hopes up!

Back to Familiar Ground

2006-11-23T22:36:00.000-08:00

It looks like I'll be going back to California, rather than immigrating to England like I had planned. It's been a torturous decision for me, literally the toughest of my life. And when I think about it, I'm pretty thankful that this is in fact the toughest decision I've ever faced.

I was in London last week, interviewing. I missed seeing, for drinks, someone whose writing I greatly admire. Alas, I could tell that given the situation it wouldn't have mattered if I could have contacted her weeks in advance, as her prior plans were set well in advance. I did have a date, though, that went well. It's a shame that I won't be going back, as we hit it off so well.

But, that's the way the cookie crumbles, for now at least. Back to the bay, and back to that dating scene. I feel very different, now, though. I feel like I've missed the bay area so much since leaving, that I have an appreciation for it now that I lacked before. I feel like I have it within me to be more purposeful and self-assured. Before, I felt like I would someday return to Colorado, so I didn't try very hard at relationships out there. Now, having been in Colorado for a few months, I know this isn't going to be the place I retire to. Maybe my future home is someplace I haven't been yet, or maybe I'll just comfortably settle in California. I don't know, and right now I'm not worried about it. For now, I just have to plan my return (within the parameters of when the new company wants me to start my job).

(Posted from Mesa, Arizona, aprés turkey. Two Thursdays ago, I was in Mt. View, CA. Last Thursday, I was in London, England. Tonight, Mesa, AZ. Travel can be fun, but this much in so short a span of time sucks the asses of sweaty pack mules.)

-D

Get On the Shortbus

2006-10-15T02:41:00.000-07:00

Voyeurism is Participation

That's the tag-line for John Cameron Mitchell's Shortbus, which opened in general release this weekend. I've been chomping at the bit to see this, ever since I first heard about it and the fact that it featured real, un-faked sex between the actors. I have a weird thing for "real" film fare that dares to cross that line-- I own a copy of Romance, and have also seen Intimacy (which only had one little bit of crossing-the-line). I do confess that my fascination isn't strong-enough to yet experience Brown Bunny.

So I went in, expecting some nice titillation, and hoping there was some reasonable movie around the juicy bits.

This is, without exaggeration, one of the best-written, most moving films I've seen in years. Years. And I see a lot of movies. At this point, I'm easily in the high hundreds, though I doubt I've reached 1000 yet. I truly love the art of film, but I just was not ready for how good, how touching and gripping the characters and their stories were. In my defense, I had not seen JCM's previous film, Hedwig and the Angry Inch. If I had, I'd have had higher expectations going in, and the movie would still have exceeded them.

(As it happens, another theater was doing a midnight screening of Hedwig tonight, as well. So I made the evening into an ersatz JCM double feature.)

It's hard to describe the film without giving away too much about the characters. You need to discover them bit by bit, like everyone else in the theater. The lead character is a couples' counselor named Sofia, played by Sook-Yin Lee, one of only a few of the actors to have an "established" career. I imagine getting actors willing to have sex on-camera wasn't easy, so it's no surprise really that so many of them are relative newcomers. But everyone in this film is good; there isn't a bad turn by anyone. Even the local color-- NYC performance artists appearing as themselves-- avoid the bland and/or wooden presence that usually comes from pulling such a celebrity out of their usual element and plopping them in front of a camera. The movie, in a broad and general sense, is about the intersecting lives of several New Yorkers who are all damaged in some way related to or centered around sexuality. Every one of them makes you ache, because each problem, different as they all are, resonates. And they all end up at the same underground performance art/music/play-space called "Shortbus". I can't explain much more without giving things away. Except that I came close to tearing up at several points, and I'll be back to see it again. And I'll buy the DVD when it comes out. (I'll also be buying the Hedwig DVD, but I don't have to wait for that one.)

It feels sort of like this movie has started a gradual movement of change in me, I don't know how to explain it. Seeing things in these characters that I recognized in myself, gave me a feeling like maybe things can be different, can get better. And, on an unrelated note, this movie has made me feel a genuine pull towards NYC, something that no other film has (and like I said, I've seen hundreds of films, of which several score were NYC-centered). I wouldn't be surprised if there was really a scene similar to what the movie portrays out there. If I thought I had a chance of meeting the right people, and finding that kind of creative, expressive space, I'd be looking at job listings tomorrow.

See this movie. You'll be so glad you did.

-D

Linky Linky

2006-10-11T19:50:00.000-07:00

I've cleaned up my blogroll a little bit, dropping a few of them that haven't been updating. Not that I can exactly point fingers, since it's been ages since the last time I wrote on two consecutive days.

I've also added a new one: Suburban Sex Worker. In the name of fair disclosure, I know this person personally. But even if I didn't, I'd link to any blog that brings the following morsel:

Poor guy huffed and puffed and puffed and huffed until I faked my little house getting blown in!

I'll never read "The Three Little Pigs" the same way again...

-D

Still Not in London

2006-10-11T00:07:00.000-07:00

Things have been almost funny-enough to rate as an evening comedy. Except people would get bored halfway into the first show and start flipping channels.

I have my work permit. I have my residency visa. What I do not have, however, is a job. Due to cuts in funding from their clients, the company I was to work for had to rescind their offer. I'm in full-on job search mode now, and have had some very promising interviews.

I got to Denver on May 10 of this year. At the time, I expected to be in London by mid-June at the latest. It is now October 10 (well, 11th to be pedantic). The person who gave me the spare room to stay in has been patient beyond belief. She's an ex-SO, and yes we've given in to the occassional urge to fool around. I think I even mentioned this before, not sure. Its a shallow substitute for actually being out and meeting someone to have a relationship with, but it beats the five-finger revue.

And that' s another thing. I've shied away from trying to date, except one attempt at placing an ad on the "Casual Encounters" section of the local Craigslist (and we all know what that leads to). After all, I'm not going to be here much longer. A few weeks at best. I've been telling myself that for over FIVE MONTHS now. It's not realistic to try and indulge in commercial sex, for several reasons; I don't have much income (and I need what I have), I don't have my own place for outcalls, and most of all the spam-to-real-ad ratio on the local "Erotic Services" CL section is abysmal. I've actually considered trying to write a 'bot of sorts, to read the ads off of the RSS feed and flag the ones that have obvious tells of spam. I would hope that CL already has something like that, but you couldn't guess it from the Denver ERS section.

I just want to be in London. I'm tired of whacking off because I don't know if I will be around long-enough to justify trying to date. At least when I find myself whacking off (excuse me, I mean "wanking") in London, it'll be because I haven't found a date, not because it isn't feasible to look. And if London completely falls through, I'll head back to the bay area. One of the really promising interviews was a bay area company. Of course, I've given up the apartment that was priced way below market, so I'm not looking forward to trying to find housing. But while I used to wistfully think of Denver, I realize now that I'd been in Silicon Valley long enough for that to become home. So if I don't get to go to Europe, I'm going to go home.

And have all the sex I can.

-D

Such a Bad Role-Model

2006-08-18T17:35:00.000-07:00

I'm totally going to hell for this one (among my many and varied other offenses...)

In this house, my housemate's 17-year-old son has a dog. A 4-year-old Siberian Husky that he named "Nanook" (cut the kid some slack; he was only 12 when he got the puppy, and what else do you call an all-white husky?), sometimes abbreviated as "Nook", "Nookster", and yes, occassionally, "Nookie".

So last night, I'm furiously hacking away at the laptop, as I have essentially two full-time jobs at the moment. The boy comes up the stairs to get the dog to put him in his kennel for the night. He says, "I'm just looking for Nookie."

I caught myself just in time, before I actually said aloud, "Oh, the times I've said that in the past." But I did catch it before it escaped. Still, I'm going to hell for thinking it.

-D

Time Flies Like an Arrow

2006-08-07T17:11:00.000-07:00

(...and fruit flies like a banana.)

If I waited until tomorrow to post this, it would be exactly 5 months since my last post. This is not hardly what I had in mind when I started doing this.

So, where do I begin with the excuses and apologies? The circumstances are that my foot required not one but two surgeries; the second one delayed my move from California back to Colorado (Denver); problems with paperwork have meant that I'm still in the U.S., and not in London like I was expecting. But the truth of the matter is that I've been riding emotional ups and downs, and just haven't had anything to write about, let alone the emotional motivation to write.

I was in Kansas City, MO, this past weekend. Alas, I was there for a convention geared towards a very male-dominated hobby, so I wasn't able to add Missouri to my list of "states I've had sex in". (Somewhere, there's a site that lets you tick off the ones you have copulated in, and creates a map of it. But I can't find the link with any amount of Google-fu.) During that time, the person behind one of my favorite blogs was outed in relation to the book she wrote. I was very saddened for her when I heard; it's not just in America that silly throw-back attitudes towards sex make life unnecessarily difficult for women. I hope this smooths out for her without her being subjected to waves of crazies. The author of the newspaper story (not deserving of a link) didn't need to reveal her real name. But when has that ever stopped someone?

So, the late-breaking news is that my work permit for the UK has finally been approved, despite the delays caused by my making mistakes in my initial applications, and my prospective employer having problems when they decided to sponsor me instead. Optimistically, I could be in London by the end of the month, though I think this time next month is more likely.

And none the sooner...

D

New York, Performance Art, Bloggers

2006-03-08T23:08:00.000-08:00

Alas, my time here in NYC has thus far been too busy to get into much trouble. That should hopefully change tomorrow evening.

Last night, I traveled to the Knitting Factory to see the Sex Workers Art Show. While there, I got to meet Waking Vixen in person, after an exchange of e-mails (it was her that led me to the show). She introduced me to Cherry Bomb, who's blog I've only just started reading (but will probably soon join the link-roll on the right). The show was a treat, and not just because there were several bay-area performers on the bill. On my way out, I picked up a few issues of $pread Magazine, which WV works on and promotes tirelessly. I've read the first issue through cover-to-cover. I like it a lot, enough that it deserves a separate post later on.

All in all, enjoying myself. The broken foot is slowing me down (brilliant plan, this-- going to the most pedestrian-oriented city in the U.S. with a broken foot), but I'm getting around. And I have two more nights yet, to get myself into some sort of memorable trouble.

D

And Lastly for Tonight-- NYC

2006-03-05T04:18:00.000-08:00

Just a note that I will be in NYC all next week, from Monday evening through Saturday morning. I've already talked to a few bloggers about grabbing a drink or something while I'm in town, but if there are some readers in the area that I wasn't aware of, feel free to drop me an e-mail.

D

Post Surgery

2006-03-05T04:09:00.000-08:00

I realized from a comment by AAG, that I haven't updated to let people know how things are with the foot.

I had surgery on Friday (February 24th), and it was blissfully uneventful. Well, for the most part. The plan had been to put a single screw in place to hold to the parts of the broken bone together. That had to change-- there was a hairline fracture that hadn't shown up on the X-rays, that started to expand when they were drilling the channel for the screw. So I got a plate and three screws, for the price of just the one screw.

From my vantage point, it was in fact uneventful. As a chronic insomniac (check how many of my posts are as late as this one, or close to it), I find the thought of anesthesia very novel: I know that I will be unconscious in a matter of seconds, something I never have to count on when I'm actually in bed. Ahh, blissful anesthesia. The nice man put the oxygen mask over my face, and told me to breathe deeply and count the breaths. One breath. Two breaths. Oh look-- the recovery room. It almost makes me want to have surgery more often. Or date an anesthesiologist.

The foot itself is sore, still. I was a dumb-ass and didn't have my Vicodin scrip filled before surgery, so I had to do so afterwards. And since I was still numbed, I thought I was OK to walk around on it and get some groceries while they filled the prescription. That caused some unnecessary bleeding, and when they were to take the stitches out on Thursday, part of the suture area wasn't ready for that step. And only myself to blame.

I'll be on crutches another 3 weeks or so, and the franken-foot for a couple of weeks after that. But it already hurts significantly less in just one week. So I may yet run that Boston Marathon.

(I have no intention of ever running a marathon, unless I'm being chased by vicious carnivores with exceptional endurance.)

D

It's My Birthday...

2006-03-03T20:00:00.000-08:00

(Yes, I'm back-dating this post to make it fit, because I was out with friends and forgot to write the post on the actual day.)

...and it's the blog's birthday, too.

I started doing this one year ago, on my 37th birthday. I'm 38 today, and when I look back over the archives I'm actually a little disappointed in myself. Mostly for not writing more frequently. But also because I see in stark terms how little effort I was able to put into sex, let alone actual relationships. I say "able", as if it were entirely the fault of my company for overworking me, or my (platonic) friends for hogging my time. But I have the lion-share of the responsibility, for basically laying back and letting things stagnate.

In my defense, the last 12 months have also marked a painful condition that required surgery. Some sexual function problems due in part to the health issues but also due to my letting my own general health and fitness decline. Then, of course, there was the breaking of the foot and the losing of the job (update on the break will follow this post).

But I did have some sex in the past 12 months, some of it just so-so and some of it really amazingly good. But I truly hope that the second year of Dausa is overall better. I'm about to embark on an exciting, new, scary chapter in my life as I leave California for England. When I moved from Oklahoma to Colorado, and from Colorado to California, I kept telling myself that this would be my chance to start over as a new me-- one that wasn't shy to the point of debilitation, one that wasn't still affected by the guilt and hang-ups that came from being raised in a fundamentalist evangelical Christian church. Of course, each time I moved I woke up to new surroundings, but I woke up as the same me.

So this time, I'm not fooling myself into thinking that moving to London is going to magically change me into the smooth, ultra-extroverted persona I often wish I could be. No, this time I'm going to go to my new home expecting to have to make all those changes manually. But I will go with the hopes for starting fresh, on a clean slate.

So here's to the next 12.

D

This Blog(ger) Will Soon Be Moving

2006-02-28T20:58:00.000-08:00

In a curious twist, following on my lay-off of last month, it looks like my next permanent job will not be in the bay area of California. Oh, I'll be here for at least another month or so, as I take care of a contract with a NYC firm and some local contract work. But somwhere around mid-April or so, I'll be leaving.

Leaving California, leaving the U.S.

Unless something goes completely awry (such as, say, failing to be granted a work permit), I will be joining a company in London, England. This is at once exciting and a little scary. Maybe a little more scary than exciting, I don't know.

D

Someday I'll Get Back to Blogging About Sex

2006-02-24T03:39:00.000-08:00

I have surgery on my foot in a few hours (can't sleep). The foot issue and the whole looking for a new job thing have just taken the libido right out from under me. I did have a great time with a local escort, and I've been prompted to write some entries on a particular theme (anonymous encounters) that already has me cherry-picking from my memories. I promise I'll be back to normal soon.

D

Who Doesn't Enjoy a Good Cheney?

2006-02-15T02:27:00.000-08:00

From Violet Blue, I learn that "Cheney" is starting to pick up steam as a euphemism for facial come-shot. I heartily approve. There is some debate as to whether it should be limited to "unexpected" shots or not. I think it should. Otherwise, we end up retroactively naming an entire sub-genre of porn.

Here it is, used in a sentence with another, related name-cum-noun:

So she was doing this amazing Lewinsky on me, but at the last minute she decided against swallowing and tried to pull away, and she ended up getting Cheneyed, big-time.

Spread the word, and remember to duck!

D

More Travel in my Future

2006-02-08T01:54:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back from Denver. No nookie for Dausa, I just can't bring myself to lead people on like I might have 10 years ago, and the person my friend was trying to hook me up with didn't seem to be on the same page as I was.

However, all is not lost! While sex continues to elude me in both California and Colorado, I have just learned I'm being offered a contract to do some work in New York City. Without giving away too much (and linking this blog to my Real Life Blog), the work is highly specialized, and I literally wrote the book on the subject. As in, available at Amazon or a Barnes & Nobles near you. The schedule remains to be ironed out, but I'm looking forward to it. There are several amazing bloggers in that area that I'd love to meet in person. And one or two that I'd love to do more than just meet...

D

Back in the DNVR

2006-02-04T00:15:00.000-08:00

Spending a few days in Denver, again. Just felt like getting away from California for a bit, and the ticket was cheap. My friend out here is trying to set me up with a female friend of hers... I kind of blew the first meeting pretty badly, though. We all had dinner this evening, but I didn't feel like I had any real chances at opening a conversation, and after the friend left, my host gave me grief over not talking to her more. I didn't sleep last night, and I had to do a lot of walking on my broken foot-- I had to go from one concourse to another in Phoenix, and pulled into the the one concourse at Denver's airport that doesn't have people-movers in it. So I was tired, my foot hurt like hell, and apparently I wasn't suitably flirty-enough. Better luck tomorrow, maybe. I mean, she's more than cute-enough, but she isn't someone I'd date on a long-term basis. And if I tap that, and then move out here, she may expect a longer commitment out of me...

D

More Soloing For CBW

2006-01-25T23:39:00.000-08:00

All the paperwork was taken care of today, and I am now completely and officially unemployed. So I won't be visiting any pros anytime soon (well, maybe a little nibble off the severance check wouldn't hurt). As such, looks like it's me and my left hand for now. So for this Wednesday, here's what I just finished doing...

Even though I see the lay-off as a good thing for me, it still has me tense. The best way to relax my tension is a good orgasm. And not just a quicky-jerk into the bathroom sink, either. So I settled myself in to allow myself to completely enjoy it.

Lately, I've been getting rid of a lot of my porn. It's mostly old, and boring to me anymore. Same goes for the erotica I have, even the old Penthouse-letters-style magazines. So I figured I would see what I could do with just my hands and my imagination, without any priming. To do this, I laid myself on my bed all stretched out and bare. I started by just running my hands over my skin, not even focusing on my genitals just yet. I'm moderately-hairy, so I can elicit a fair amount of sensation just from doing this. This isn't meant to produce the hard-on, it's just to just warming up my sensory system, get it to start paying attention.

I started to think about some of the really hot women I (used to) work with. When I am looking at a woman as a potential sexual encounter, I think about two things: what will her pussy look like as I'm about to eat it, and how will she look while sucking me off.

(There's a young-ish East Indian woman I would have loved to chat up, but she stayed tightly clustered with other Indian women all the time-- lunch, breaks, etc. She had beautiful, playful eyes. I could easily imaging looking into them as she looked up at me from between my legs. And I loved to think about how her face would reflect what my tongue was doing to her.)

Hard-on is almost 100% now. I start to actually stroke my thighs and around the base, but not the cock itself yet.

(There's J, the cute little Asian who sits/sat right next to me. The one who could drive me crazy with just plain white cotton panties, who alas is married. I have a harder time picture her going down on me, but oh can I imaging what her body would feel like in my hands while I ate her out. Barely 5'2", I could probably hold her up to my face, hoist her in my arms while licking away.)

Now I'm totally hard. Cat can't scratch it. I'm placing my hands at the base gently, and just massaging the skin there, ticking my sac with my fingertips. I lightly start to trace my fingers up the center of the underside, along the way to the head. Light, tickling caresses.

(ML has a beautiful smile, and an amazing chest. When I think about her, I fantasize that I'm laying on my back and she's sitting on my face. I want to be able to reach up and play with those fantastic breasts. Something about her, something in the way she carries herself and her sense of self-assuredness, tells me she would give killer head.)

I don't usually use lube, and I'm not using it tonight. But I do sometimes wet my fingers with saliva, and let them play along the underside of the glans, to really whip up my nerve-endings. If I'm not careful, I could set myself off too quickly this way. God, sometimes I wish I could still bend over in half and lick myself. That's what I try to simulate with my fingers-- those tentative first few times when I could only just reach the head of my cock with my tongue. I was young-enough then that even such a tentative tongue-to-cock caress could send me over the edge. But I can't do it these days. I can take the little drops of pre-come that work their way out of the tip, take them on my fingertip and rub it on my lips, on my tongue.

(EC is the ultimate, though. Beautiful red hair, gorgeous blue eyes. A few discreet tattoos in discreet places. And a very playful, flirty nature. It is so easy to picture her nibbling and nuzzling the base, the side of my shaft, before actually taking me as deeply as she can. She has porcelain skin, and I have a ruddier complexion courtesy of my mom's side of the family. I can picture her skin against mine. I wonder if she's as red below as she is above. And I somehow know she's a screamer. I can only imagine how hard she would clamp her legs around my ears when she came.)

Sometimes, when I get really close, and I'm really turned on, I have a really strong desire to taste myself again, like I used to when I could blow myself. I imagine myself twisting around into a yoga-like position so I can aim it into my mouth. Or just letting it go all over my stomach and chest, then running my fingers through it and licking them off. It's a function of my arousal level, though, because the feeling passes as soon as I'm actually climaxing.

This time, I wanted it pretty badly again. But with my foot being broken, I couldn't go the yoga route. And like I said, once I start actually coming the desire isn't as strong. After spending about 10 minutes just bringing myself to the edge and backing off, I finally let myself finish. It mingle with the hair on my chest and tummy, and I lost the urge to take a taste. But it felt so good when the moment came. I laid here another 10 minutes or so, until I had to do something about the mess on my chest.

Mmmm... a day without an orgasm is a day lost, that you can never get back again...

Dausa

Familiar Melody

2006-01-24T15:47:00.000-08:00

I know this tune... this is the melody of me getting laid-off by a company that is also hiring at the same time.

I'm not sure what this will mean for me. I may move back to Denver. Maybe I'll apply for a work permit in the UK and go to London for a few years.

More detail to follow...

D

Links in Lieu of CBW

2006-01-18T12:31:00.000-08:00

Still here, foot's still broken. I hobble around pretty effectively, but it's draining having to use the crutches all the time.

So for now, I can only offer you interesting links. Useful to anyone who thinks I might be their "kind of guy"...

Ten Reasons Why You Should Date a Geek

The Do's and Don't's of Dating Geeks

(taken from Erosblog.com)

Forgive Me, Readers, For I Have Sinned...

2006-01-08T23:28:00.000-08:00

It's been nearly two weeks since my last orgasm.

According to the foot doctor, I only broke one bone, not two. I have an "Aircast", which at least lets me wear my jeans instead of the athletic shorts or running pants, none of which have pockets for my keys, wallet, etc. They gave me Vicodin for the pain, which I've stopped taking now. The pain is now pretty minor, and the V upsets my stomache and prevents me from enjoying the food I have to eat in order to keep myself on the mend.

So, part of my pondering for 2006 is what exactly I want to try and do, relationships-wise. I've already been bolder than usual, actually actively flirting. In an optomitrist's office, no less. But I'm still not clear on what I really want out of it. Part of me wants to try to hit the 100 mark this year (by my best memory, I'm at 92 partners thus far), but another part of me would be just as happy to find one person to have 8 persons' worth of sex with, instead.

As I've thought about this, I realized I haven't rubbed one out since just before I got back from Oklahoma. Of course, I haven't really been in much of a mood these past 2-3 days, with the foot and the drugs and all. This happens, sometimes, I get too busy or too preoccupied to wank for days at a time, then make up for it by going 2-3 a day for a week or so. But the first one, after such a break, that's a treat. All the pressure has built up. When I had the money to go to escorts or massage parlors, I'd prefer to break a fast like this under those circumstances. When I do next orgasm, it'll be high in both volume and pressure. It seems almost a waste to send it down the sink or shower drain. Much better to be buried to the balls inside someone, or have them taking as much into their mouth as they can, looking up into my eyes while I come.

Damn. I think I'll go break the fast, now...

D

Oh, I Needed This

2006-01-06T02:54:00.000-08:00

I just broke two bones in my left foot. This blows, since I live in a second-floor apartment, and drive a manual-transmission car. I'm going to be on crutches for the next six weeks, and boy is it going to get in the way. Not to mention the joy of showering with a trashbag tied over the cast for the whole time.

Maybe I can at least garner a little sympathy out of it. Grrr.

D

I'm Way Too Shy To Have Just Done That

2006-01-03T13:30:00.000-08:00

I had an optometrist appointment this morning (I've had these glasses about 8 years, and the lenses have finally gotten scratched). Now, I haven't written yet in this glorious new year, about how one of my goals is to be more social and out-going. That will come later (later today, or later this week).

Anyway, after the exam part, I'm sitting in the "boutique" part of the office as they try to find frames that stop just short of making me look like a total dork. As I am doing this, there's a cute Asian woman to my right doing the same thing. She keeps trying on the same two pairs, trying to decide. I happen to catch her eye, and nod vigorously at one pair over the other. (For the record, they really did look better than the others.) Right answer-- they were quite a bit cheaper than the others, and she was looking for an excuse to pick them (the saleslady was of course pushing the more expensive ones).

Holy shit-- it dawned on me I was actually flirting with this person.

I don't do that. I don't know how to do that. Many of you are probably thinking that I'm kidding, or just being too hard on myself. No. Part of my problem is that I have so little comfort in social-type situations. (Yeah, I'm past the 90-partner mark, but almost 2/3 of them were business transactions.) Generally, I have to be hit over the head to know when/if I'm being flirted with.

So back to this person. A little short (but then at 6'4", everyone is from my perspective), but really, really cute. And we seemed to have at least a little click over advising each other on frames-- I had turned the tables and asked her opinion on the 2-3 pairs I had narrowed my choices down to. And I picked the ones she preferred. While our respective sales-people were away doing paperwork, I actually introduced myself and asked her name. But when she was done, she said goodbye and off she went.

I hadn't gotten the courage to ask for a phone number, or give her mine.

So, in a burst of impulse totally alien to me, I walked up to where she was waiting to clear out with the office's receiptionist, and asked if she'd like to get together for a drink sometime. Gave her my cell number.

It was totally clumsy and awkward, and if she calls me I'll be about as shocked as Stephen Rea in The Crying Game. Because, you see, I just don't do that sort of thing...

D

No Love in OKC

2005-12-24T00:19:00.000-08:00

Sorry for my long absence. This time it really wasn't about busy work-schedules or the like. I have to confess that I've been really fretting over my issues in Denver. By the end of the week, I had managed to play with my host a little bit, but it was limited to her watching (and encouraging) me as I whacked off. Mind you, she really gets into that, so it wasn't a loss by any measure. Looking back in the weeks following my trip, I also pondered whether I was also slowed by the acclimation to the higher altitude. Might explain why I was able to keep it together that last time before flying home.

Either way, I'm now off in Oklahoma for the Christmas holiday, visiting family. And let me tell you, trying to get laid in Oklahoma City is about like trying to get robbed in an Amish community-- it could happen, but someone will have seriously compromised their morals. I mean, no "War on Christmas" here... there's an office building that proudly leaves select office lights on, on each building-side, in the shape of a cross some 11 or more stories tall. Needless to say, the "casual encounters" section on the OKC Craigslist node is pretty lacking. As is, it happens, the "women seeking men" and even the "erotic services". 99% spam in ERS and CAS, in case you were wondering.

Mind you, there are quite a few ex-lovers around the area, were I able (and in some cases, willing) to get in touch with them. The Older Woman is out here, and I could probably manage a hook-up with her without too much trouble, unless she's re-married (and who's to say that would prevent it?). Most of the exes aren't likely to be interested more in a brief chat, though, even if I could get in touch.

But no mile-high altitude screwing with my oxygen supply, so I at least still have my hand to rely upon. I don't, however, have much in the way of porn. You can't get hardcore out here, and my internet connection is choppy. Life sucks all over, doesn't it?

D

We're Past Anxiety, and Well Into Panic

2005-11-22T18:38:00.000-08:00

Anxiety is the first time you can't do it a second time.
Panic is the second time you can't do it a first time.

I'm here in Colorado, and damn it all to hell but I'm not able to perform.

I guess it's time I came clean, mostly to myself: I've let my health go these past few years, and I've been getting progressively worse. And now, it's gotten to the point where I can't get it up or keep it up for someone I have a long (pleasant) history with. I came out here looking forward to several sessions of no-holds (or holes) barred fornication. And yet, both times we've tried, I had trouble getting it up, and eventually lost it.

I know I have to get myself into a more healthy place. And I know that doing so will address this problem. But right now, I just feel like a total waste of space.

D

The Other PBF

2005-11-18T19:06:00.000-08:00

No, not the Perry Bible Fellowship, I mean Pussy-Blogging Friday. Plenty of female sex-bloggers write Cock-Blogging Wednesday posts, so I can play, too!

This is a little piece I like to call, "What my bisexual ex taught me about going down". It's nice and topical, since I leave in the morning for a week in Colorado. Since neither of us is in a serious relationship (she has a friends-with-benefits going on, but that's all), we plan to screw each other senseless, at least until Tuesday or Wednesday when Aunt Flo comes to visit in time for Thanksgiving. Not that we're opposed to playing in those conditions, but at least the first few days are generally extremely rough on her, for medical reasons.

(If only I knew of any interested readers in Denver!)

Anyway, let the descriptive begin...

I've said before, that the greatest lesson I got from P was patience... be patient with the woman, because some go off like a rocket, but some (most?) take time to get the motor running.

Following a close second, though, is this: don't be afraid of the pussy! Get down there and come face-to-face with it. Get close enough that she feels your breath on her outer labia. Not only does that tell her that you're close, it will contribute to the sensations turning her on. Be ready, and willing, to spend an hour or more down there before you can call the head complete. Odds are you won't have to. But if you're trying to rush things, she'll know that too. And it's an effective mood-killer.

My tongue is wide, as opposed to long. I can't lick my eyebrows (I can't even reach the tip of my nose), but when I flatten it out I can completely cover most outer labia. One of my favorite ways to start in on her, is to flatten my tongue and press it against the labia, dragging it slowly upwards until I'm able to flick the clit with the tip.

I like to treat cunnilingus as a complete course of seduction all by itself. I kiss the woman down there, and I'm not using that as a euphemism. I kiss her opening as though it were a mouth; I lightly probe with my tongue, I work the lips of my mouth against the lips of her pussy, as though it were her second mouth. I tease and nip at the "taint" like I would the tip of her chin. I kiss around the area, always working my way back to those wonderful lips.

Just hold that image in your head for a moment, make it a part of the way you regard the pussy.

Of course, there really isn't a parallel between the clit and the any part of the face. But that's OK, because I think about the clit as it's own distinct personality. I mean, every one is as different as the woman it's attached to. So I can't give a definitive approach to this, other than to recommend paying close attention to her-- her body will tell you if/when you're doing it right. Anything from dragging the rough surface of my tongue across it, to directly twiddling it with the tip of my tongue hardened like a finger. Sometimes, I just purse my lips and suck on it like it were a nipple.

I'm always torn at the moment of orgasm, though. Generally, I want to hold on and keep working on her for as long as she can take it. Sometimes, I like to climb up her body and plunge in to the hilt as her orgasm starts. When I decide to hold on and ride with it, I'll wrap my arms around her waist if I have to, to make sure I don't get thrown off. Whatever I do, I throw myself into it completely.

I guess I just have a love-affair with the vagina. I appreciate nice breasts, and flaired hips. But I could spend hours gazing upon and playing with a pussy, if the owner let me. Well, I'd start out gazing, but eventually I'd have to start playing with it again. It's just the way I am.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have packing to do...

Dausa

A Late Wednesday Cock-Blogging: My First Other

2005-11-16T23:41:00.000-08:00

My experimentation with bisexuality has been somewhat limited. That said, my first direct encounter with another penis still stays with me...

As it happens, I have had very little exposure to penii other than my own. In junior-high and high schools, I was in music programs that took the place of gym classes. That meant that I never had the experience of communal showering. Even when I went to church camps over the summers, I managed to avoid showering with others. Mostly, I was afraid that I'd get caught looking, if I did.

A side-effect of this was that the only other dicks I saw belonged to porn stars. And not only are they put in that line of work because of their size to begin with, but actresses tended to be petite to further the illusion. Thus, already-sizable cocks look even bigger.

One night in Colorado, I had my first experience with another man. I was out with three other people, two women and a man. One of the women was visiting me, and all four of us were (at the time) regular readers of the USENET newsgroup "soc.bi", a bisexuality discussion board. We had dinner, hung out. Eventually we started playing cards, which of course led to strip poker. Except we really didn't know how that sort of thing worked (how do you raise or bluff a bet?), so we ended up all four of us sitting there naked. After a very Monty Python-esque period of just sitting around carrying on conversation in the buff, people started giving each other backrubs. Still nude. Still, nothing going on.

I'm not sure at what point things finally started picking up, but I was being massaged by the other guy, who said aloud, "I think I could go for some MOTSS^* action." I was still a little nervous, but decided to give it a toss.

So he moved around in front of me, and we just started caressing each other. This was all new ground for me. At first the two women were playing with each other (but later I would find out that they shortly gave that up in favor of the free show). Soon, I wasn't paying attention to them.

This was my first chest without breasts. I mean, I'm not a breast-fixated person, and I'd dated several women with small chests. But this was different. He was smooth, too, and I'm moderately furry (consistently hairy, but not thick matted hair), so that was new. At first, neither of us was hard. Then we started making out.

That was so strange to me. His lips weren't as soft, and there was stubble around them (I had a beard at the time). Aside from that, it wasn't that different. His style was more aggressive than most of my girlfriends had been, but hey, kissing is kissing, and after a while we were both showing signs of, err, growing interest.

And here's where we get to the cock-blogging part: I was stunned at the difference in our sizes. This guy was almost exactly my height (though more slender in build). And I just assumed that most cocks were about the same size. Not having ever seen any John Holmes films, most of the porn cock I had seen was relatively close in size. And this all being straight porn, you rarely saw two dicks close-enough together to compare size. But here mine was, vein-to-vein with another one, as he stroked us both with the same hand. And there was a pretty visible distinction between the two.

But putting all that aside for the time being, I was in a state of wonder. I'd never held another one, and here I was with the chance to jack one off. Looking back, I guess it was assumed that nothing more that mutual-masturbation was on the menu. I wasn't thinking about it at the time. But that's all we did. Though, we certainly took our time with it. I think we must have spent 30-45 minutes just kissing and necking while we stroked each other. At one point, he got one of the girls to get his lube, and the stroking improved immensely. Somewhere between 30 and 45 minutes, I came.

Hard.

No, harder than you're thinking.

We were seated, facing each other, on the floor. Our legs were somewhat intertwined, and our cocks were pointing at the ceiling. When I started to orgasm, the first few jets were strong-enough to go straight up with enough momentum to hit my chin, a distance of nearly two feet (remember that I'm over 6'3"). And it went everywhere. I was used to either using a towel, standing over a toilet, or (frankly) being inside a woman's mouth or her vagina. And when I wanked, I just didn't get that kind of volume!

But these things eventually end, and after we cleaned me up, we remembered that only I had come, thus far. So I turned my attention back to him. This was the first time I heard about anti-depressants impacting the male's ability to orgasm (years later, I'd experience this first-hand for myself).

I did everything I could to that cock. Everything that I had always wanted a partner to do when using their hand on me. But five, ten minutes passed with no results. Oh, he was loving it, but my wrists were getting cramped. He started to stop me, explaining about the meds issue. But I was having none of that. I was going to be patient and persevere (an attitude I later applied to learning to go down on women). And after another five or so minutes, I (and the two-woman audience) was rewarded with another (more sedate) fountain. Mission accomplished!

We then cleaned up, got dressed, and went to Denny's.

Looking back, I wonder what might have been different if we'd tried to do more. Would I have been as willing to dive into oral sex? It would be several more years before I started sticking my toe into the murky waters of cruising for anonymous blowjobs from men. What if he'd blown me that night? Would I have ended up on the cruising scene sooner? No way of knowing, I suppose.

So that's the story of the first time I touched a penis not my own. Funny (and sad) part is, I can't even remember his name, some 11 years or so later.

Dausa
^* MOTSS means "member of the same sex", and is an old USENET-era abbreviation for same-sex play. MOTOS meant "member of the opposite sex", and MOTAS meant "member of the appropriate sex", for when you wanted to be politely neutral.

I (heart) BBCA

2005-11-16T18:22:00.000-08:00

I've been TiVo'ing more and more material from BBC America. It started with me using BBCA to get the 4th season of Coupling before it came out on DVD. From there, via commercials for other programs, I also took in Wire in the Blood, and Second Sight (I'm a proud Clive Owen fan ever since Croupier, which I had initially only watched to see Alex Kingston topless). But after those series ran their length, I hadn't been watching BBCA much.

Then Violet made a passing comment about Desperate Housewives being a take on Footballers' Wives, and how the original did it so much better. So I set the TiVo to grab an ep or two, to see for myself. I love the show now, but I think it and DH are more different than alike, but that's not the point.

The point is the other stuff I've begun watching. Mile High looked to be more of a comedy than a drama from the ads, but it's been more dramatic than funny. But it also has loads of boobies, and you can never go wrong with lots of boobies. Bad Girls is another can't-lose proposition: lots of attractive women in prison. It's like Oz meets Sex and the City. Except that there is no humor at all; I guess it's more like the ladies of SatC locked up in Oz, being subjected to abuse. Not that that wouldn't have an appeal all its own.

Mile High and Bad Girls. Joe Bob says, "Check 'em out."

D

It Actually Reads Kinda Hot (In Places)

2005-11-14T02:51:00.000-08:00

Came across this just now, you may have already seen it:

Instruction and Advice For the Young Bride on the Conduct and Procedure of the Intimate and Personal Relationships of the Marriage State for the Greater Spiritual Sanctity of this Blessed Sacrament and the Glory of God

By Ruth Smythers

beloved wife of The Reverend L.D. Smythers, Pastor of the Arcadian Methodist Church of the Eastern Regional Conference

Published in the year of our Lord 1894, Spiritual Guidance Press, New York City

Just as she should be ever alert to keep the quantity of sex as low as possible, the wise bride will pay equal attention to limiting the kind and degree of sexual contacts. Most men are by nature rather perverted, and if given half a chance, would engage in quite a variety of the most revolting practices. These practices include among others performing the normal act in abnormal positions; mouthing the female body; and offering their own vile bodies to be mouthed in turn.

Couldn't have that, now, could we?

D

Tagging is the New Black. Not Really.

2005-11-10T14:20:00.000-08:00

Having completed the easy parts of the meme, I'm now trying to find 5 people to tag. So, I'm tagging: Jo, DarkNeuro, Avatar, SpankMe and Laura the Tooth.

Hopefully, none of you will hold this against me...

D

Edit: Looks like DarkNeuro already did it. Gotta find someone else...

Score: 23 to 5

2005-11-09T21:40:00.000-08:00

ArousedGirl tagged me with a meme, of all things. Funny part is, I see it going around LiveJournal all the time, but I only use my LJ account so that friends can let me in to locked posts. I never post to it, so I never get tagged. Clever, crafy Girl, though, tagged me here. The basic instructions are:

Delve into your blog archive.
Search the archives for the 23rd post.
Find the 5th sentence, or closest to.
Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. Ponder it for meaning, subtext or hidden agendas.
Tag 5 people to do the same.

So I'm to go back in my archives, find the 23rd post I've made, and the fifth sentence. That post would be this one, and the sentence itself is:

But it got me thinking about my earlier years, and some of the people that I so desperately wanted to shag, but with whom it was not meant to be.

That sentence actually has some fairly recent relevance, as the person who is probably the most unrequited of my unrequited crushes just got married. She and I will always be very close friends, but I had to accept the fact years ago that friends would be the extent of it. Beautiful as she is physically, and wonderful as her personality is, the hard truth is that we were different in a few small-but-critical ways. But most of all, the person she married is wonderful not just to her, but for her as well.

But also, I'm in the middle of a long dry spell. Certainly I wasn't too worried about it while recovering from surgery, but aside from one (awfully nice) blowjob, it's been the first week of August since I've had any nookie. And a part of me, the part that gets desperate and throws better judgement out the window at times like this, is berating me for the opportunities I turned away last May-ish. Not that I'm second-guessing my logic or reasoning; it was the right thing to do, even if it meant settling for Rosy Palm. But like anyone, I'm occassionally plagued by self-doubt (I'm just plagued by it more often than most, I imagine). And those doubts have lately been having a field day.

I'm also in the midst of some financial problems, and I don't really have the money to be trying to go out on dates. Even a few drinks at a bar would strain my budget, let alone a nice dinner. Despite this, I find myself vainly reading the local women-seeking-men Craigslist ads, as well as the casual encounters ads. I even skim through the "erotic services" (read: escorts) section, just to "window shop". I've seen an ad in the W4M section a few times over the past few weeks that I'm 99% certain is the woman I saw in May, but chose to not pursue because I knew I'd just be using her. So not only is part of my kicking the rest of me over it, but I have the reminder.

So, I've been making due with a more hands-on approach. I've actually been playing around with sensation and technique, just to mix things up. I've been trying to achieve the phenomenon that Avatar recently wrote about, but thus far to no avail. Personally, I'd be elated if I could do that, and definately understand that fellow's sense of satisfaction at his body's function.

I've also been weeding out more of my old porn. It's kind of funny to re-watch tapes that used to set me off like a rocket, and realize they don't even lift me up any more. (That, and these days I just fast-forward any scene that has Marc Wallice in it on general principle. I don't care if the scene was shot 10 years before he falsified his HIV status. He's forever and always a turd in my book.)

So, aside from some minor regrets, I'd still say I did the right thing last May. And as for those who never were, the truth is I have more regrets over people I have fucked, than people I haven't.

I don't know if I can manage to tag 5 people, but I'll try to over the next few days...

D

Spread the Ass Blogging Meme!

2005-11-07T20:20:00.000-08:00

I can't get Ass Blogging Monday off the ground by myself, people! I need my loyal readers and fellow perverts to spread the word and spread their cheeks!

Help me make this my legacy to the world of sex-blogging!

D

Ass Blogging Monday: Ass Health

2005-11-07T19:40:00.000-08:00

As of this morning, my ass has a clean bill-of-health. The doctor who performed surgery on me a few months ago said I probably wouldn't need to come back for a good 13 or 14... years.

That's a nice span of time, as far as I'm concerned. I'm not looking forward to having a colonoscopy ever again, but if I have to do it at least I have enough time to forget just how unpleasant it was. That way, it will all be fresh and new and exciting again.

So I'm cool again. Mostly. Still occassional soreness. As I said in an earlier post you really don't appreciate the little things, like not having persistent rectal pain, until you lose it. So what happened, you ask? And what were the ramifications? (Note that the part after the cut is less sexy and more TMI-like.)

I had an anal fissue. Most likely, I got it because my diet is crap, and I used to get constipated occassionally. Now, I'll be taking Metamucil daily for the rest of my life. If I get another fissure, more surgery could mean a loss of sphincter control. And while I have minimal fashion sense, I'm pretty sure I won't look very good in an adult diaper.

So this thing had been bothering me for well over a year. For the longest time, I thought it was just 'roids, because I sit on my ass for a living (I'm a software engineer, and I also do a lot of open-source projects in my spare time) and that happens. But it kept getting progressively worse, and started bleeding more and more. On at least one occassion, it seemed like I'd lost at least a good half-cup or more of blood. Best of all, every time I took a dump, it felt like I was trying to pass a jewel-encrusted howler monkey. So I finally broke down and went to an ass-doctor. (They have a nicer name for themselves, but "ass" is much easier to type.)

Ass-doctor explained everything to me, and even had me try a regimen for a few weeks that might have promoted the healing without the surgery. He rocks, and if you need an ass-doctor in Silicon Valley I'll whole-heartedly recommend him. The regimen didn't work. He didn't actually think it would, but he wanted to rule it out before resorting to surgery. Alas, surgery was my destiny.

First step was a colonoscopy. This was, as it happens, the first time I'd been under anaesthesia since having my tonsils taken out at age 4 (which, as it happens, I still remember 33 years later). As an insomniac, I found the thought of knowing I am going to be asleep within the next three seconds to be kind of novel. Until I started coming to about five minutes earlier than planned, and got to experience the last few yanks and twists of the 'scope. That's a memory that'll be sticking around for a while.

Next was an upper-gastrointestinal tract test. The less said about that, the better. Large quantities of chalky-white barium solution. I was shitting heavy cream for a solid day.

Then the surgery. As I've mentioned before, I grossly under-estimated the time it would take to recover. I was on Darvocet, and even that barely made a dent in the pain. But I'm better, now, and I'm pretty-much pain-free.

For me, the ass has long been a source of pleasure. I've personally manipulated it, I've used a variety of dildos, vibrators, other small smooth items that I could wrap in a condom, even a banana once or twice. I haven't been fucked by another man, nor have I been fucked by a woman with a strap-on. One really hot girl I knew in Long Beach managed to get three fingers in me, but that's the closest I've come (and I think this was also around the time the fissure had formed). As I wrote about the really fantastic time I had with that one escort, a good rimming drives me wild, and I'll happily scrub myself extra-clean if I think that's on the menu for the evening.

So it's safe to say that I'm happy to have my ass back. Take care of your ass! It will always be there to prop you up!

Dausa

Brain-Sex Test

2005-10-25T19:21:00.000-07:00

An interesting test of how your brain scales on the male-to-female spectrum, over at the BBC.

My results below the cut, as the output is pretty long-ish...

(Edit: This is "sex" as in "gender", not as in "yes please")

Part 1

Angles

This task tested your ability to identify the angle of a line by matching it with its twin. This is a spatial task, which looks at how you picture space.
Your score: 17 out of 20
Average score for men: 15.1 out of 20
Average score for women: 13.3 out of 20

What does your result suggest?

If you scored 0 - 12: You have more of a female brain. Scientists believe that people with a female brain find it more difficult to judge the slope of a line because they're not wired for spatial tasks. In past studies, 65 per cent of people who scored in this range were women.

If you scored 13 - 17: You found this test neither hard nor easy. This suggests your brain has male and female traits when it comes to spatial ability.

If you scored 18 - 20: You have more of a male brain. On average, men outperform women in this task and those with more mathematical knowledge tend to score quite high as well. In past studies, 60 per cent of the people in this range were men.

Interestingly, men's testosterone levels fluctuate through the seasons and studies have shown that men's scores are lower in the spring, when their testosterone levels are at their lowest.

Spot the difference

This task tested your ability to identify which objects changed position. You lost points, if you incorrectly identified objects.
Your score: 43%
Average score for men: 39%
Average score for women: 46%

What does your score suggest?

If you scored between 0 - 33%: You may have more of a male brain. Scientists say men tend to under perform in this task. The corpus callosum, the part of the brain that links the right and left hemispheres, is a fifth larger in women. This means women can process visual and other signals at the same time more easily than men. There is also a theory that oestrogen levels in women give them an added advantage in spatial memory.

If you scored between 34 - 66%: You may have a balanced female-male brain.

If you scored between 67 - 100%: Those with a female-type brain generally score in this range. Your ability to remember where objects are may serve as an advantage to you when you're trying to find your way around places. You're more capable of recalling landmarks to get from one place to another.

Part 2

Hands

You said your right thumb was on top when you clasped your hands together.

Right thumb on top: This suggests the left half of your brain is dominant. Many studies have tried to establish whether there is a relationship between handedness and brain dominance. Some scientists believe that if you are left brain dominant, you would be more verbal and analytical.

Left thumb on top: This suggests the right half of your brain is dominant. Some studies theorise that as a right brain dominant person, you may excel in visual, spatial and intuitive processes.

However, these theories are debatable and leave much to be said about the small percentage of people who are ambidextrous.

Part 3

Emotions and Systems

This task looked at whether you prefer to empathise or systemise.

Empathising

Your empathy score is: 6 out of 20
Average score for men: 7.9 out of 20
Average score for women: 10.6 out of 20

What does your result suggest?

Empathisers are better at accurately judging other people's emotions and responding appropriately. If you scored 15 and above, you are very empathic and would be an ideal person to comfort people in a time of crisis. Women in general are better at empathising.

Systemising

Your systemising score is: 20 out of 20
Average score for men: 12.5 out of 20
Average score for women: 8.0 out of 20

What does your result suggest?

Systemisers prefer to investigate how systems work. A system can be a road map, flat pack furniture, or a mathematical equation – anything that follows a set of rules. A score of 15 and above suggests you're good at analysing or building systems. Men in general are better at systemising.

Scientists are keen to learn more about people who score high or low on both tests. They want to find out whether or not empathising and systemising are linked. Is a possible to make yourself more empathic?

Some scientists claim that our empathy and systemising abilities can be traced all the way back to prehistoric times.

Eyes

This task tested your ability to judge people's emotions.
Your score: 8 out of 10
Average score for men: 6.6 out of 10
Average score for women: 6.6 out of 10

What does your result suggest?

If you scored 0 - 3: Do you think you're good at judging how another person is feeling? Your score suggests this doesn't come to you quite so naturally.

If you scored 4 - 6: Your result suggests you have a balanced female-male brain and find it neither easy nor difficult to judge people's emotions.

If you scored 7 - 10: Your result suggests you are a good empathiser, sensitive to other people's emotions. Women generally fall into this category.

Professor Baron-Cohen at the University of Cambridge says that people usually perform better than they expect to on this test.

Men often think a person's eyes are sending signals of desire when that's not the case at all.

Part 4

Fingers

We asked you to measure your ring and index fingers. Your ratios came to:
Right Hand: 0.95
Left Hand: 0.94

Average ratio for men: 0.982
Average ratio for women: 0.991

It's thought that your ratio is governed by the amount of testosterone you were exposed to in your mother's womb. The ratio of the length of your index finger to the length of your ring finger is set for life by as early as three months after conception. Even during puberty, when we experience intensive hormonal changes, the ratio stays the same.

Men generally have a ring finger that is longer than their index finger, which gives them a lower ratio than women, whose ring and index fingers are usually of equal length.

Studies have found that men and women with lots of brothers generally have more masculine finger ratios. Find out what other things scientists think our ratios may tell us.

Part 5

Faces

This task looked at how you rate the attractiveness of a series of faces. The images you looked at were digitally altered to create slight differences in masculinity.

Your choices suggest you prefer more feminine faces.

Highly masculinised male faces possess more extreme testosterone markers such as a long, broad and lower jaw, as well as more pronounced brow ridges and cheekbones.

Interestingly, women's preferences are said to vary across the menstrual phase. A more masculine face is preferred during the 9 days prior to ovulation, when conception is most likely.

A typical 'attractive' female face possesses features such as a shorter, narrower, lower jaw, fuller lips and larger eyes than an average face.

Part 6

3D shapes

This task tested your ability to mentally rotate 3D shapes.

Your score: 12 out of 12
Average score for men: 8.2 out of 12
Average score for women: 7.1 out of 12

What does your result suggest?

If you scored 0 - 6: Do you find yourself having to physically rotate a map to point in the direction in which you're travelling? This might explain why you scored in the lower range in the 3D shapes test. Twice as many women as men score in this category. Previous studies suggest that those with a female-type brain or with an arts background fall into this range.

If you scored 7 - 9: In past studies, 50 per cent of the people who scored in this range were women and 50 per cent were men.

If you scored 10 - 12: Are you an engineer or do you have a science background? People with these skills tend to score in this range. Past studies have concluded that people in this range have a more male brain.

Nearly a third of men who took this test got full marks, whereas less than 10 per cent of women managed the same.

Words

This task looked at your verbal fluency.

Your score: you associated 8 word(s) with grey and you named 9 word(s) that mean happy. We are assuming that all the words you entered are correct.
Average score for men: 11.4 words total
Average score for women: 12.4 words total

What does your result suggest?

If you produced 1 - 5 words: You are more of the strong, silent type with a male brain. You probably find it easier to express yourself in non-verbal ways, preferring action rather than words.

If you produced 6 - 10 words: Most people in this range have a female-type brain.

Women are said to use both sides of the brain when doing verbal tasks while men mainly use their left side. Studies have shown that girls develop vocabulary faster than boys. This difference in brain power is caused by levels of pre-natal testosterone.

Ultimatum

This task asked you how you would divide money.

If you had to split £50 with someone, you said you would demand £25

So far on the Sex ID test, men have demanded 51.6% (£25.80) of the pot and women have demanded 51.0% (£25.50), on average.

What does your response suggest?

Sex differences are small in this task. Demanding less than 60% of the pot (ie £30) is more typically female. Demanding more than 65% of the pot (ie £32.50) is more typically male.

Scientists believe that people with lower testosterone levels tend to take fewer risks so they are probably more willing to keep less for themselves. Those with higher testosterone levels tend to drive a harder bargain and are less compromising.

Men's testosterone levels fluctuate over the seasons and are at their lowest levels during the springtime. This is said to influence their bargaining power.

(Not sure if I agree with it all, but it was fun to take. --D)