Sexuality Happens

*I just bought over $350 of sex products (retail value, but I paid a little less with my discount). I’m talking a spanking book, a guide to meeting queer people, a double ended dildo (nexus sr.), vaginal balls, two types of lube, lingerie, massage oil, etc. I need someone with whom I can try it all out (and of course, then review it for you!).

*My normal massage therapist/bodyworker hurt her wrist (poor thing!), so there is this really hot woman subbing for her. Ok, I KNOW I’m not supposed to be lusting after my massage therapist. I KNOW it’s rude and impolite, and it would be like crushing on my gyno or something. But she’s just adorable, and nice, and has a wonderful touch and yeah. My gaydar says dyke, but I am just trying my absolute hardest not to think about, because that is disrespectful and taboo and all that jazz.

*I am lusting. Badly. And have been for more than a week. I interviewed this person for work (a guy about to begin medical transition) who is ridiculously hot. I mean, he’s attractive overall (I’ll elaborate later), but I mean…wow. Like he walked in behind this couple while I was waiting to interview him in this restaurant, and I didn’t realize he was the person I was waiting for, and I watched him walk in, and my thoughts were something to the effect of “daaaaamn. That’s the type of person I’d love to meet at these parties I keep going to. Maybe when I’m done with the interview, I can head over to meet…oh! That’s the person I’m interviewing.” Yeah. Awkward. Welcome to my world. Anyways, I mentioned attractive. I am of the opinion that one can find any random person to be “hot” – someone on the street, a celebrity, etc, but that someone cannot actually be “attractive” until you get a taste of their intelligence and personality. He’s got both, in spades.

So I interviewed him, and he’s perfect for the position, and we wound up hiring him. I’m going to train him one night at my place, one night at his place, and his first day is my last, so it’s not sketchy or anything to be lusting (not to mention that there is already an inner-officer couple at my job, so yeah). After his interview today, we hung out by my car talking. God, maybe I just need to get some, but seriously. Smart, good looking, funny, sex-positive, knowledgable, and oh, did I mention his ‘hawk and stunning blue eyes. Seriously, someone needs to slap me, because I am so attracted to this person that I was nervous when talking, and I literally think I stuttered a few times. Listen; I am a talker, a Jewish talker. I don’t stutter, but all I could think about was how much I wanted him to just bend me over the hood of my car and fuck me (see the Parking Garage, written by me, in Wetter, edited by Nicole Foster, available for the first time ever TODAY).

I know, I should not be drooling over someone I am kinda sort of working with for 2 half days and 1 full day. But talking to him was like some kind of mental foreplay, and I drove to my internship (a 90 minute drive) just imagining all the kinds of ridiculous hot and kinky sex we could have, what with toys, and vampire gloves and and and.

And I have no clue as to whether he is possibly even slightly interested in me at all. Sigh. I’m so bad at these things. There are all these little “signs” which SEEM to me that he might have some interest, but then again, I’m so bad at this, that they could just be politeness, or “you’re a cool person” indications. I just don’t know. I try to be a good Femme and flirty and such, but goddess knows I’m a mess. What I need is someone to pin me against the wall, slamming their lips against mine, wedging their leg between mine. THEN I know, THEN I am sure. Hell, flip me over onto the bed, or just bend me over it; I read those signs super well. Wrap your fingers in my hair and pull as your teeth nibble at me; I get it loud and clear. But this whole “Essin’ Em tries to flirt and understand the freaking signs” spiel? I suck at it, and not in any good way.

Before you point it out, I know I’m leaving in 2 months. I’m not interested in some long term, lovey dovey relationship. I want sex. Friends with benefits. A couple of dates would be superb. Maybe accomplishing some of the items on my “sex to-do list.” Anything like that. Again; I can never tell when the chemistry I feel is returned. But at least for me, the sexual tension was incredibly thick – you could cut it with a knife (or maybe a Wartenburg wheel?), and from our disussion, I think we’d be incredibly sexually compatible.