Ex – Experiments

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Aren’t those just nine of the worst words in the English language? Sigh!

Let me state for the record that I’m not good at being friends with ex-lovers. It takes a lot of work and sometimes it simply isn’t possible.

I also like to separate my romantic life from my work life.

Okay – you can start laughing now. I know, I know, I write about sex, talk about sex, and sex is my job. But, grow up, just because I talk about sex with you doesn’t mean I want to have sex with you.

If I want to have sex with you… trust me you’d know.

But back to my story.

Last year a friend and I had a long discussion about whether we could be friends with our ex-lovers. Neither of us have a history of this and the few women we knew who did this tended to beat themselves up when the ex became someone else’s lover. I’ve never really thought about the fact that I just end things and move on.

So the question became, was there value in reconnecting with an ex?

(Sorry that sounds so Sex in the City…. Forgive me)

A few days later, curled up with a cocktail and my cell phone I decided to give it a try. I sent a text to several ex’s and waited to see what happened. There were a whopping three that I had kept phone numbers for so not exactly a huge sample size. Like I mentioned I tend not to keep in touch. 

• One had a happy ending – I got the apology and the closure that I never got before. Oh, how good that would have felt four years ago.
• One had a yo-yo ending – it went something like this: Let’s be friend, I can’t be friends, Let’s be friends, I can’t be friends…
• One created an interlude – we reconnected for awhile

On the whole, not a bad experiment, but then I left out the crazies, the stalkers, and the pathetic-sex-guys. Except my yo-yo. Him I’m having issues with… but apparently this is my fault.

Sigh!

I opened a door and assumptions were made about why I opened it. The fact that it was just an experiment was known only to me. Men are really simple creatures… at least most of them…. Or so I’m told.

So, here is me closing the door… and moving on.

Licks!

WTF was I thinking?????

I’ve had the debate many times…
The first time I was 19 and it wasn’t a common practice but my lover at the time swore up and down that I would before too long.

I laughed at him.

I’m really a no-muss no-fuss kind of girl.

Although I’m not reconsidering my stance after (ahem) a decade or two, I’ve finally come across a lover who would prefer a less furry look.

Yes – I’m talking about my bush.

Every lover in the past either hadn’t commented or preferred me al natural. The preferred group felt that stripping off the hair would make me look pre-pubescent and they were into women not girls. (Oh, how that line was music to my ears.)

But this one, this lover, made a snide comment about the fur.

Ouch!

So I did something I haven’t done in years, I shaped it a little… Holy Hell!!! I have been itching and uncomfortable ever since. The blunt ends of my curls rubbing unpleasantly against some of the most sensitive skin I’ve got. A constant brush of sandpaper no matter what I ware or how I sit.

I’ve done bits before and the grow-out is a bitch.

I think “tough shit” is the line I’ll be taking this weekend. Having a lover may inspire me to many things but in the end I don’t do any of it for them – I do it for me.

My body is mine, inside, outside, and in-between – take it or leave it…

Licks!

Mmmm….

Nothing quite like it.

Waking!

Knowing that your lover isn’t there

Yet trapped within is the memory of when he was

Shiver of desire courses through you

Memory!
Feeling his hands on your body
His lips on yours
Rippling desire echoing
He pulls you close
And doesn’t let you go
Holding you
Enclosed within his arms
Feeling the warmth of him
…and the strength

Oh, yes…

Waking to the memory and yearning for more. More time to explore. More time to learn what our bodies can do together.

Progress…

At times I worry that I’ve been alone too long. Adjusting to another person is a process. When we were young we tended to jump in and drown in it thoughtless in our headlong pursuit of passion. Heedless in our search for lust. The joyous bubbly intoxicant that floods your system when you start to fall.

Now we are older, wiser or simply scarred. And my friend keep telling me to take it slow, keep my heart safe. Pace myself. At the same time my body is crying out for attention.

To know and be known.

Licks!

The Power of Touch

This morning as I was lying in bed, waiting for the sun to come out, I was thinking about touch.

How I miss it.

I miss the feel of a warm body next to mine. That moment, in the early morning, when you wake and wonder if you should wake your lover too and just how much you can touch him before he stirs.

Fingertips tracing a line of neck…
Lips gently brushing a shoulder…
Hands roaming between the skin-warmed sheets and his warm skin…

I miss sitting with my lover in the cramped space of my chair-and-a-half, more than a chair but not quite a love seat. It forces intimacy: sitting hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Accidental touching, intentional stroking, kissing as the ottoman shifts away from the chair causing us to slowly sink to the floor.

Once on the floor, we give up the pretense of watching our movie or interest in the discussion we were having and begin talking with our hands.

Hands that touch, tease, torment and tear at clothing…
Hands that caress in ways words never can…
Lips that speak eloquently of desire and the promise of pleasure, without uttering a word…

Oh, yes… I miss touching and being touched.

Licks!

Working the Sex

Writing is work.

Sex is work.

Anyone who says that sex isn’t work isn’t doing it right. It takes attention to detail, to your partner’s responses, and focus. It also takes remembering what worked before and creativity for finding new ways to thrill them next.

The delightful thing about sex is the payoff and that you don’t do it alone.

Okay, there are some times but I’m not talking about them.

Writing takes attention to detail, memory, creativity and focus. The thing about writing is you have to do it alone.

Ever had one of those nights where either you or your lover was more “on” than the other? Or a lazy night where casual caresses blossomed into an exhilarating evening?

With sex, you have someone to play off of, someone to pick up the slack when you run out of steam. With writing you are simply alone playing mind games with yourself.

I could use one of those creative nights between the sheets. As usual my lover is away. Someday I’ll take a lover who doesn’t travel… no I won’t I like too many things about the leaving and the returning. Whether I am left alone or we take the trip together there is something about travel, time apart, time together, different places, different people…

Hmmm….but I was talking about wanting one of those nights.

A night to stir the creative juices and provide grist for the mill rather than mining the past would be pleasant. But until he returns I’ll struggle though writing sex without my muse.

Licks!

The things you don’t remember…

An old friend reappeared in my life this weekend. Truly unexpected.

With him came memories of a time when we almost became lovers. Let me emphases the ‘almost’ part of that sentence. Our timing must have been very off. Sitting with him, drinking wine in my living room, was delightful. Remembering with ecstatic joy the insanity of that short period of time when we attempted to be together was entertaining.

Our conversation was punctuated by a bubbling up of amusement that I couldn’t control as memory returned. He would ask me what was so funny and I would tell him. Nice to know he can laugh about it too.

One of the things I had forgotten about him was his love of watching.

This came up when I mentioned that I wanted to write up some sex toy reviews for the blog. He asked if he could help. Since I’m single again my intent was to focus more on the masturbation aspects of the toys. He said that was fine…he just thought it would be good to have an observers viewpoint.

Ahhh…. The things you forget.

I started to laugh. Yes, my old friend likes to watch. I’d forgotten. A memory surfaced of a time when he came over. I had just finished my workout and needed to shower. He asked if he could watch me. I acquiesced. He sat in the bathroom watching me shower following every movement of hand and soap. I asked him to wash my back. He did taking the opportunity to explore my back, my ass, and my legs, but then he backed off, and just watched as I finished.

It was a strange feeling – being watched – knowing that the person watching was experiencing something erotic. Odd in that he wouldn’t have touched me if I hadn’t asked. All he wanted was to observe. I didn’t experience any specific thrill other than the enjoyment of providing something that he desired.

The conversation moved on to other topics, as conversations often do. However it wasn’t too long before there was a pause in the natural flow and he brought up watching me play with toys again.

I was noncommittal.

He brought it up yet again, and again.

Hmmm…

I may have to think about this.

Licks!

Love…

I have always had a theory – that you couldn’t love someone who didn’t love you back.

Don’t get me wrong – I’ve had my share of infatuations and lusts. But love… love is a rare thing and something that doesn’t come along much… if ever.

My lover is gone.

And I am left alone with memories of what was and what might have been and the wish that our moment could have lasted longer.

There are so many songs – of love gone wrong. We all have our favorites to comfort us when love leaves and we are left in that moment between…

Breathe.

In that moment between each breath that catches us and pains us and in that pause, between breaths, we wonder if we will ever breathe again.

Tomorrow will be a new day – with new opportunities – new doors that will open on different lands…places of surcease…places where I will find again the bliss that I once felt with you.

Licks!

The Longest Night of the Year

Tonight darkness will fall early and stay late. Time best spent reveling in the darkness. In the in-between places.

Enjoying the cover of night that brings lovers together, knowing that dawn will be held back.

It is a perfect night to while away the hours. Slowly unpeeling layer after layer – until each is revealed, shameless, vulnerable and naked.

Drifting in the darkness, caresses flickering as the candlelight cast pools of shadow.

Moments pile against moments – the slow long kiss that begins chastely and moves to demanding, devouring breath.

Hands, familiar and knowing, seek the tender places. Places of delight and ecstasy. There is no rush – dawn is very far away.

We rush to the finish, then back away, delaying yet again our fulfillment. Knowing as we do that each retreat moves us that much further to the ultimate surrender of self.

…and we have all night for the journey.

Licks!

Sex in the Afternoon

Sunday morning I got a visit from my lover at 8 am. We crawled back into bed and spent a glorious morning exploring each other. This morning as I lay in bed with my coffee I remembered when I was living with a man and we got into a bad habit.

Sex always came at the end of the evening. We were both night owls so our evenings ended in the wee hours of the morning. As you can imagine the sex itself became very perfunctory – often we were too tired for anything else.

From midnight on all I really want to do is go to sleep. Granted, curling up with my lover is the best kind of sleep. And there is value to sleepy sex. The slow almost dream like sex you have when you are both aroused but tired from a good day. It unfolds gradually and never goes anywhere but has a satisfaction all its own.

A diet of too much of the same thing makes Emma a dull girl.

I remember trying to break the habit but it was strong and we never changed. It was one of the reasons our liaison ended. Our sexual life had become stale.

That was what I was thinking about this morning. How much I enjoy the unexpected in a lover and the value of changing times, places, and positions. The more variety the more we have to explore. And I for one, value that highly. I also value the joy of learning someone. Taking the time to get to know their body and for them to know mine finding new places, movements, sensations to exploit. When it is a mutual exploration it is a wondrous thing.

But I think we sometimes forget the value of time.

A quickie is fun and definitely adds spice but there is something sublime about the different hours of the day. Sex first thing – when you are just waking up. Sex later in the morning after you’ve showered and dressed for the day. A nooner – meeting for an illicit tryst. Sex in the afternoon – on a Saturday after teasing each other while running errands or coming home early from work just to be together. The random middle of the night wakeup call when you wake to your lover’s touch.

There are so many possibilities.

As the sun arcs through the sky and the moon follows. Bodies at rest and motion collide in different patters – none of them the same – like snowflakes – unique and ephemeral.

Licks!