I have a feeling of not being in charge. Of my arousal, of what's going on with S.
Ever since the very day I started talking with S, my arousal has been closely connected with him. He's part of most of my masturbation fantasies - not often as my immediate counterpart (though it happens), but more often as a more or less active onlooker, or as one of the persons I'm watching, for the fantasies where that's what I'm primarily doing. Sometimes he's only there as a whispered voice.
And even when he's not there... I often tend to think "I need to tell S about this" (or even "I can't possibly tell S about this").
And now I'm going through a rough time with him. And I say "I", because I'm not sure he's going through a rough time with me... but I'm finding it difficult right now, with a lot of worries and sadness and brooding. (I'm so good at brooding!)
Sometimes to the point where the mere thought of masturbating makes me panic, since I know it will bring out so many thoughts of him, and of where we may, or may not, be heading. So I don't.
And my frustration is growing. I need to touch myself. Soon. I need to come.
I need to find a way to deal with this.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Another kind of release
Yesterday morning I had an errand to an area which is not within easy reach of a public bus. I had to leave my car there, so going back I found myself having to walk quite a distance. To shorten it a little I decided to walk across a cemetery, which I actually know quite well, but it's huge and I needed to cut through a corner of it that I've never been to before, in order to exit on the other side.
My eyes fell on ten similar gravestones, side by side, joined together with chains. The first stone was that of a young boy, only 18, and it had a beautiful poem inscribed on the stone. The next stone was also a young person, with another lovely poem... I realized they were all in their late teens or early twenties, and saw that they all died on the same date, almost 15 years ago.
And when I remembered that horrible fire in which so many young people died, and saw the fresh flowers on each grave, I started crying - not over anyone I knew, but over lives and dreams and loves lost. I read the rest of the poems through a haze of tears.
After a while I continued walking, lost in thoughts. When my tears had dried up I found myself in a clearing in a beautiful forest, on a hill, with a clear view over the city. I stopped and enjoyed the moment, and though it felt odd I had to admit to myself that I knew that feeling so well. The feeling of being released, of my body feeling relaxed yet light, of my mind feeling clear and resolved.
I won't recommend crying instead of masturbating, but it did bring me a little closer to understanding the mystery that is the human orgasm.
My eyes fell on ten similar gravestones, side by side, joined together with chains. The first stone was that of a young boy, only 18, and it had a beautiful poem inscribed on the stone. The next stone was also a young person, with another lovely poem... I realized they were all in their late teens or early twenties, and saw that they all died on the same date, almost 15 years ago.
And when I remembered that horrible fire in which so many young people died, and saw the fresh flowers on each grave, I started crying - not over anyone I knew, but over lives and dreams and loves lost. I read the rest of the poems through a haze of tears.
After a while I continued walking, lost in thoughts. When my tears had dried up I found myself in a clearing in a beautiful forest, on a hill, with a clear view over the city. I stopped and enjoyed the moment, and though it felt odd I had to admit to myself that I knew that feeling so well. The feeling of being released, of my body feeling relaxed yet light, of my mind feeling clear and resolved.
I won't recommend crying instead of masturbating, but it did bring me a little closer to understanding the mystery that is the human orgasm.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
#122, May 5, morning
(If you've come here HNT surfing and are in a hurry... skip to the next post.)
I talked with S last night. We were whispering in the dark (though it was the typed kind of whispers), secret thoughts.
It was late and when he suddenly had to go I went to sleep, without making myself come first. I love doing that, knowing that I'll wake up in the morning, or even a couple of times at night, feeling just like I did when I fell asleep - aroused, unreleased, mind full of images.
After an eventful morning, which I may write about in a separate post, though it was completely un-erotic, he said good morning... I was out, on my phone, but close to home, and it didn't take us long to get back to where we left off last night. As soon as I got in I quickly shifted to my laptop, and got right into bed, my dress up around my waist, tights down around my ankles, my vibrator out of the secret drawer.
I so wanted to hear his voice... it has been so long. I hesitated for a while, then asked if he could possibly call, though I knew he was on his way to work, or even already there. He couldn't, he was on a bus. I got so very embarrassed... I'm not sure why, I really don't think he minded that I asked, but it's probably the first time ever that I've asked him to call. I was lying on the bed, blushing, and it took me a while to get back into the fantasy.
Not too long though, and once I was there, there was no going back. I came, spasming, lost, moaning, with a feeling that I had finally arrived at a place I had been on my way to since we started talking last night.
I talked with S last night. We were whispering in the dark (though it was the typed kind of whispers), secret thoughts.
It was late and when he suddenly had to go I went to sleep, without making myself come first. I love doing that, knowing that I'll wake up in the morning, or even a couple of times at night, feeling just like I did when I fell asleep - aroused, unreleased, mind full of images.
After an eventful morning, which I may write about in a separate post, though it was completely un-erotic, he said good morning... I was out, on my phone, but close to home, and it didn't take us long to get back to where we left off last night. As soon as I got in I quickly shifted to my laptop, and got right into bed, my dress up around my waist, tights down around my ankles, my vibrator out of the secret drawer.
I so wanted to hear his voice... it has been so long. I hesitated for a while, then asked if he could possibly call, though I knew he was on his way to work, or even already there. He couldn't, he was on a bus. I got so very embarrassed... I'm not sure why, I really don't think he minded that I asked, but it's probably the first time ever that I've asked him to call. I was lying on the bed, blushing, and it took me a while to get back into the fantasy.
Not too long though, and once I was there, there was no going back. I came, spasming, lost, moaning, with a feeling that I had finally arrived at a place I had been on my way to since we started talking last night.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
#121, May 3, mid-day
Me, my vibrator, a 7 minute video of my choosing, a lunchbreak, a lovely climax.
That's all that needs to be said about #121.
That's all that needs to be said about #121.
#120, May 2, night
I was working towards a deadline, which I honestly didn't think I'd make, but I did, and when I finally finished toward the end of the work day I suddenly found myself so very horny. I knew I wouldn't have much time to myself, but I still gave it a shot... but after two minutes my kids came home. Ah, the frustration.
But perhaps that's what made it so good later on, when I was alone in bed, having one of those incredibly (and, yes, considering the past few weeks - surprisingly) intense conversations with S.
After about an hour or so none of us could hold it any longer. Again, I had that new type of orgasm that starts with a few mini climaxes that seem to whisper of even greater pleasures ahead.
Sometimes it feels as if I have to work hard to come - but tonight the hard work was all about stopping myself from coming too quickly.
But perhaps that's what made it so good later on, when I was alone in bed, having one of those incredibly (and, yes, considering the past few weeks - surprisingly) intense conversations with S.
After about an hour or so none of us could hold it any longer. Again, I had that new type of orgasm that starts with a few mini climaxes that seem to whisper of even greater pleasures ahead.
Sometimes it feels as if I have to work hard to come - but tonight the hard work was all about stopping myself from coming too quickly.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
#119, April 30, late night
I've been so anxious, not having talked with S for many days, wondering, worrying, like I always do. But tonight we reconnected, with a conversation that lasted over three hours, moving from this to that, ending with both of us masturbating and typing unmentionable details to each other.
I came first, as usual. But then I tried very hard to keep going... I'm not a woman who does multiples, and after an orgasm I get incredibly relaxed and hopelessly chatty, which sort of kills the mood for him, which makes me feel very selfish. I tried very hard not to let that happen tonight and it seems I succeeded.
It got very late and he had to go, so no cuddling. But since we're in this strange land somewhere between reality and fiction I can still imagine it as I go asleep.
God, I've missed him.
I came first, as usual. But then I tried very hard to keep going... I'm not a woman who does multiples, and after an orgasm I get incredibly relaxed and hopelessly chatty, which sort of kills the mood for him, which makes me feel very selfish. I tried very hard not to let that happen tonight and it seems I succeeded.
It got very late and he had to go, so no cuddling. But since we're in this strange land somewhere between reality and fiction I can still imagine it as I go asleep.
God, I've missed him.
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