Why I Did Not Give You That Quickie In-Public-&-Under-the-Table Handjob the Other Day
I hope you don't think I was ignoring him or that I was simply refusing to give him any attention whatsoever. Both of you must think I dislike him, but nothing could be further from the truth. You must know that I am completely mesmerized by him!
You may just think that I'm reticent and apprehensive about doing it in public during our short visits - but it is much more than that! My first impulse is always to get my hands on him as soon as he makes an appearance. You have no idea. You see, he is simply god-like in my mind. It seems almost sacrilegious to go at him with anything but reverence and respect. To simply have quick and non-meticulous contact with him is akin to eating a communion wafer and wine as a snack with no pre-ritual! It is feeding caviar to your dog or pouring Dom Perignon out on the ground as soon as the cork is popped. It is taking something that should be sacred and revered and making it base and mundane. I don't feel right skimming over something I feel should be savored, studied, worshipped, and handled with respect.
When I see him, I am drawn to him like a moth to a light. I want to trace every contour of his being with my finger and then my tongue. I want to memorize every mark, every movement, every curve and twist of his body. I want to learn everything that pleases him, and to what degree he enjoys each of my endeavours. I want to know him; every nuance of his existence. So much so that I desire the time and ability to do just that - and to interact with him on any level less seems down right blasphemous.
You musn't ever think that I like to ignore him or that I enjoy teasing him. I want only to treat him as he truly deserves, and as I really want.
Always,
Bendis
It's been awhile - quite awhile, in fact. The sad truth of the matter is, my faithful friends, that the nympho just isn't getting any sex. At least, none that's noteworthy.
I am happy to report that sex is not yet dead in my life. There are some upcoming and promising sexual adventures slated for the near future. Just this coming Friday I'm to attend a "fun party". Think of it as a tupperware party for sex fiends like me.
It'll be good times-girls only, alcohol drinking-tasty treat eating, fun with lots of oils, lotions and toys to go over and consider buying. While I'm not in the market for a new toy (I just recently purchased one that's waterproof that I can combine with my shower massager in the bathtub - my b.o.b. life is complete), I am rather interested in sampling some numbing, tingling oils. My friends tell me there are oils to make your nipples tingle and ones to make your clit sing. I'd like 3 of each, please.
Of course, I'll report all of the naughty goings-on and give a full report on the good uses I'll put my new oils to; no worries there.
But today I'm suffering from lack of sex - or lack of really good, mind-blowing sex. You know, the kind that can only be termed as dirty, wild, animalistic, really sweaty sex. I want my toes to curl and my brain to feel like it's just exploded inside my head. I want to be lifted up to the heavens and come back down seeing stars. The kind that makes you find God (for a few seconds at least) and bless his sweet ass for creating the act you are engaging in at that moment. Sex that you just have to smoke a cigarette after.
You know what I mean?
And I like rough sex. If I'm not bruised and bloody afterwards, it wasn't my favorite kind of sex. Hurt me; break me - if you can. The more animalistic sex is, the better. Isn't it, in its purest and raw form, a primal, animalistic act anyway? Certainly. If you think it isn't, you're probably one of those women whose never had an orgasm before, or one of those men that can't get those women to achieve them. Don't argue - it's futile. I'm a nympho, and that means I'm an expert when it comes to sex. Sex should be animalistic - primal - raw - wild.
Know where I can get any like that??
She came to me in a dream the other nite – a vision of loveliness, the goddess above all, my dream woman. My friend and I were walking through this strange party city. It was similar to Vegas but even more bright and colorful (if you can imagine it). Even the streets were brightly painted with murals and lyrical sayings. The shops along the street were nothing but bars, sex shops and whorehouses. We took one narrow alleyway, and found a quaint little porn shop with a room in the back to be “serviced”. We were looking for something – a specific dildo for my friend or some similar item. I wandered into the back room and all of these hookers were standing around; waiting. They tried to talk to me, but I felt uncomfortable so I went outside.
There she was. There were a few other streetwalkers out there, hanging around, and her. I thought she must be a hooker, too, because she came right up and started talking to me. I was immediately mesmerized. She was petite and olive-skinned with thick and wavy long hair. She had large, dark, almond-shaped eyes and a perfect little baby-doll mouth. When she spoke I saw that she wasn’t like all of the other ladies out there – she was cultured; intelligent. She had Alyssa Milano’s body – need I say more? She kept talking to me, apparently wanting to hang out. I told her I had to go and started to leave. My friend was ready to make it back to the car, but she followed us. I really wanted her to come, but still believed she was a hooker trying to make her move. As we walked back to the car I explained to her that I thought she was really cool and very nice, but I just didn’t have any money. She insisted that she wasn’t a hooker. She said she was drawn to me, and she told me her name was Lola.
I didn’t know what to think – I wanted to believe her, but was afraid she’d spring the “It costs this much…” on me any second. We stood next to the car talking for quite some time, and I was really falling hard for her. Suddenly, she kissed me. It was all over then. In the next second we were in the back of some station wagon-type car having wild, hot sex. I can still remember the feel of her soft skin and wet lips.
Afterwards, I took her back home with me. She was the woman I’d been searching for all my life, and we were mad about each other. J. called and when I told him he was thrilled. I couldn’t have been happier. I never thought I’d find a woman that fit the bill – but the dream has told me that she’s out there. Now, I’m on a quest to find her.
* 11:29 am *
Not but a few hours after posting this, I got one of those aggravating sex/porn junk emails in my box. As I went to hit Delete, I noticed the sender - it simply said "Lola". A sign? Perhaps. 
I want to be kissed. Badly. I miss being kissed – sometimes I miss a simple, sweet, soft-lipped, glancing tongues kiss. Or a deep, wet, rough, passionate, tongue-twisting kiss. Can one be horny for a kiss? What would that be called? Korny? That works. Since it is kind of “corny”, in a way, to being lusting after a romantic or passionate kiss. All right, then – I’m korny as hell!
The other night B. was spending the night. He’s my used-to-be-boyfriend who is now my present-platonic-friend. Though I still lust after him. And with him it’s more than sex, because there are real feelings there. With him I could really kind of join with someone. As much as he and I could ever “join” – we have lots in common and a lot of love, but no passion, no real, soul-deep connection. One of the lessons I’ve learned in life is that just because you love someone deeply, doesn’t mean you should be with them. But B. comes over just about every weekend and spends the night – some weeknights, too. On rare, and splendid, occasions we have sex – around every 2-4 months. The ones I want, I always have the least. Anyway, getting back to the point, he was over this past Sunday, and before dropping off to sleep, he leaned over and gave me the sweetest, softest kiss on the lips. It lasted a trifle longer than these normally do and I immediately felt a burning tingle in between my legs. Then he lay down, turned over and went to sleep. This was our entire relationship – being unsatisfied – so I’m used to it. But, DAMN!
I was so horny that a kiss got me wet – not only wet, but TINGLING! You know that feeling? When you want to be touched so bad you literally tingle with the want – kind of like an itch that must be scratched? That’s what this was like. So I ended up having the sex with P. the next night (that was the last post). But P. doesn’t kiss well – at least, not by my standards. I’m sure to some he may be a great kisser. But I just feel like he’s prying me open and drilling for oil.
B. is sweet and soft. He really is a sweet guy – all sensitive and adorable. I really love him – not in love with him, but he means the world to me. And I love having sex with him – he’s good in bed and he makes lots of noise. I love a man that makes lots of noise in bed! Though B. was never into oral. He didn’t even like getting it that much – and I think, in our year and a half together, he maybe went down on me twice. And though I missed it, I let it slide because the sex was good and plentiful. Then it just stopped. He says he doesn’t know when it stopped, or why – but our relationship became asexual. And I just couldn’t abide by that. There were other things, too, of course – I’m not so shallow that I’d dump a guy for not fucking me. But it was a major problem. But I like the way he kisses – and I miss it. I’m korny and I want to be kissed – all soft and sweet and sensual. It’s very lonely to want a kiss. Being horny is frustrating. Wanting a kiss is just lonely.