Sexuality Happens

Me: I’m just an acquired taste.
My sister: No…*I’m* an acquired taste. You’re more than that. It’s rare that people like you…but then they really do. Kind of like eating cockroaches as a delicacy.
Me: You’re saying I’m a cockroach??
My sister: *Silence*

So I’m chilling in Florida with the family until Sunday, when I fly back home to Philly. Tomorrow, I’m so excited to get to see Miss Avarice and her lovely partner tomorrow!

I finally heard from my friend who just got his top surgery done in late April/early May. Congrats to him. He was telling me about how he was washing his car with his shirt off for the first time ever, and how wonderful it felt. I’m so happy for him. I can’t imagine being in such a situation, but the closest I’ve got is being able to run, or climb a few sets of stairs, or something like that. To finally have something work for you; your body and your mind more in synch. I mean, I know it’s not the same, but it’s the best I’ve got. I am happy and proud, and all those things.

It’s interesting what people think about me and what I’m doing with my life. My grandfather thinks I’m going to be a psychiatrist…I can’t quite tell him I’m going to be a sex educator, so we’re working on “counselor/educator” as a correction. My aunt’s trainer asked me if I was a licensed therapist…I told her no, more into outreach and consulting (because until I find a job, that’s really what I am).

I saw the new Indiana Jones movie with the family today. It wasn’t very good (IMHO). It started off ok, but without giving any spoilers, REALLY? Writers, wtf were you thinking?

My bruises are finally beginning to fade. The last few days, my ass has been black and purple, slowly beginning to mottle. Today, they were more red, with a ring of black, and the outside edges are starting to become yellow. Quite pretty, actually. Is it weird that I’m kind of sad to see them begin to go? I mean, they probably have a few more days – a week of some color, but it’s just like derby bruises. I like having them (except for the “damn it, how do I cover my ass at the pool” issue), and I feel (like my old derby bruises) that I kind of earned them in someway. They are marks of good memories; an intense hit, a nice block, a bite in a scene. But then again, I cherish all my scars too; they’re part of me, a history. From riding an exercise bike at a friend’s party to being hit in the head with a baseball at an MBL game to my surgeries to burning myself while cooking hammentaschen, they all have a memory behind them.

I’m also horny. I know, big news, but like seriously horny. Remember last fall, when I didn’t want to think about/talk about/write about/learn about/have sex at all (due to the lovely Topomax)? Well, it’s like the reverse. Everything I hear sounds like sex, I saw a skink (lizard) humping the sidewalk (whereas my sister said “oh, look, he’s doing push ups), I’m reading about it, writing about it, and cruising everyone between the ages of oh, 18 and 80? (that’s a LITTLE exaggerated). I’ve even posted an ad on CL. Shame shame, I know :) I mean, it’s hard enough being like this, but I couldn’t bring a vibrator, since I’m sharing a room with my sister, and doing stuff by hand doesn’t do it for me. I’m eying the massaging shower head in the bathroom…hmmm. Flashback to being 12-15. The plane ride home is going to be killer (I always get really horny on planes for some reason…).

One of my readers was at the Submit party…and she didn’t say hi! I knew she was going, but as at a disadvantage; she knew what I looked like, but I had no idea about her. Moreover, apparently, she DID see me. She and her friends were some of the peeker-overs from the next area. I guess I’m really loud. I never thought I was (and compared to J, I am actually quite reserved), but K and this reader tell me I am loud, so I guess I can’t argue. Also, it’s probably good I was only bitten twice, and didn’t have anything incredibly painful used on me (and only came twice); I don’t want to scare the kinky people…that’s a bad sign.

Totally random thought; I remembered the day I discovered I could bite my own nipples. That was a good day.

Also random: I was informed by K that his fourth finger went into me far before I thought it did. This clinches it; I will get fisted in my lifetime, preferably sooner rather than later. I refuse to be resigned to my fate like my friend Captain Cunt, the Hoodless Wonder. I am the Voracious Vulva (oh god, that was a horrible HNT pic!), and I will not be beaten (except when I ask for it, and it is consensual, and then carry on). We talked about it, and he had a good point about it being my first time, and I agree. Especially when one is expecting it, it is hard to “make” your body relax, even if you want it. I think once I am fisted once, future fisting will be much easier. It’s like having PIV intercourse…it took me forever to “lose my virginity” even though I didn’t want it to be a big deal, and once I did…well, bad comparison. I never liked sex with him. But anyways.

Ok, I’m getting loopy. I need a shower (with or without the massaging showerhead)and bed. Like woahfuck. Sometimes I ramble; I need someone on the side of the stage to cane me off (and I mean pull me off the stage with a cane, not hit me with it).

Last side note; a well know BDSM author is coming to Philly for a talk (which I am going to – yay!). He’s also teaching classes at a place where my friend works, and he may need a volunteer for his rope bondage class, and it may get to be me. Cross fingers please!

Ok, really done now.

-Essin’ Em