The Smell of Sex

28 10 2008

I love how my hands smell after sex.

I feel like its a bit of an odd thing to say. But it’s true. Very true.

Its a mixture of things all combined to make a scent that brings the weight of his body against mine and the feel of his cock inside me back to the forfront of my mind. And it doesn’t wash off easily. I’ll be sitting in class after a morning quickie with my hand cradling my chin and I’ll catch a whiff of it. Do you know how frustrating it is to be soaking wet in the middle of a three and a half hour block of classes when all you can think about is getting fucked? Not fun. And all it takes is that scent.

It’s all begins with the sweat. The sweat of my body rubbing against his and mixing, getting on my hands as I pull him tight against me, as my hands roam his back and chest. Layered over that is my spit, slick over his cock as I take it deep down my throat. My hand strokes him, makes him whimper and moan, adding more spit to ease the friction. Then he’s pulling me on top of him and thrusts hard into me. I bite back a yell and buck hard against him, trying to reach my peak. We roll over and he slips out. I reach down and grasp him, my jucies covering my hand as I slide him back inside me. He presses against me, harder and harder. I grind up against him, my limbs tight around him. I tense up as I get closer. And all of a sudden I’m limp and he’s fucking me like there’s no tomorrow. He grunts as I begin to moan louder, getting close again. All of a sudden he pulls out and comes on my stomach with a yell before collapsing beside me. I run my fingers through the cum and bring them to my lips to lick clean.

That’s the scent. The sweat, spit, juices and cum. It’s a dark, musky scent that can linger for days. And I love it.

Update on Life

20 10 2008

Oh wow….it’s been almost a week since I last wrote, it feels like forever.

School and life have been crazy as of late. I went home this weekend for the first time in 2 months and I’m not kidding when I say I barely had time to breath while I was home. I was gone 90% of the time and I got back to school exhausted.

H was texting me on and off the whole weekend. I really like talking to him. He’s a nice guy. But I’ve made up my mind that I’m not going to get overly attached to any guys from now on. No falling in love with them like I did with X. It’s too harmful to my mental health. So, while H is becoming a good friend, I’m also trying my damndest to make sure I don’t get too many feelings for him. I mean, he does live 12 hours away, and he has a girlfriend, though they are in an ‘open relationship.’ He was actually whinging to me about that last night. How he fools around behind his girlfriend’s back, and she told him to get annother girl on the side, and he’s pretty sure she has another guy on the side, and it upsets him. I just sighed because he’s obviously going about the open relationship the wrong way, or at least not the way I would.

X came over last night, and he’s been in sort of a slump recently. I mean, sex has just been really boring. Well, he fixed that pretty damn well last night. The sex was AMAZING.


14 10 2008

I just feel off.

Maybe it’s because I’m really tired. Thanks so much to a dear hockey player, who forgets there’s an hour time difference between us, for keeping me up until 330am for the past week. I really enjoy texting H but it leaves me dead the next morning. Oh well.

In news about X, he’s been interesting as of late. Like today we laid in bed watching movies and TV and cuddled. For FOUR HOURS. That’s a lot of cuddling. Not that I’m complaining. I love cuddling. But he’s been really….lovey… of late. Like, texting me that he was worried about me this weekend because of me being out of town. And wanting to take me to dinner tonight (I felt like shit, so I declined.) And just in general being cutesy. Kissing my forehead, my lips, hugging me, telling me he cares about me and how amazing I am. I like it. But it’s just been increasing as of late. And I don’t know if he’s trying to get me out of the funk I know he knows I’m in, or if he’s gotten over something in his life that’s made him happier. I dunno.

In general, life has been kicking my ass again after a hard weekend. I can’t wait to get home this weekend.

Memento Mori

11 10 2008

Seven years is a long time…..

Good for Something

8 10 2008

Yesterday was bad……

I had a bit of an emotional breakdown because the seven year aniversary of my dad is on saturday. I hate not being home for this time, and I just couldn’t put up a happy face anymore. I broke down.

I texted X that I knew he didn’t feel well, but that I needed a hug. Even if it was a metaphorical text message hug. He responded “What’s wrong hun?”

“This week gets harder every year. And I really, really hate not being home.”

Ten, almost fifteen, minutes went by. Nothing. Not a text from him. Then I get a phone call.

“Hey, are you okay?”


“I’ll be there in like a minute and a half. Come let me in.”


And I let him in. And we walked up to my apartment. I wouldn’t let him touch me because I knew I’d break down if he did. I walked up to my door and tried to open it, forgetting it was locked. I was frazzled and not thinking. When we got to my room, I curled up on my bed, tears welling in my eyes as he kicked off his shoe and emptied his pockets of his phone, wallet and spare change.

He sat down on the bed next to me and without a word pulled me into his arms. I couldn’t hold it back. I started sobbing uncontrolablly, clinging to him like my life depended on it. And he just listened and hugged me closer; kissing my hair, my forehead. I let go about how I missed my father, and how I hated not being home with my family around this time.

I don’t know how long I cried.

But I finally caught my breath and wiped my eyes. I kissed X softy, getting tears on his face.

“You didn’t need to come.”

“Yes I did.”

“No you didn’t. I feel bad. You said you weren’t feeling well.”

“Z, you needed me. And you don’t know me very well if you actually thought I wouldn’t come.  You’re my best friend at this school, and I care about you a lot, more than you know.”

“Thank you….”

“Don’t forget how much I care about you.”


He stayed another two hours or so, snuggling and cuddling and talking. It made my night a hundred times better.

As much as he can be an ass, I’m glad he’s my friend. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Hockey Players; Part Duex

7 10 2008

Well, I eat my words.

Hockey Player who I said I’d probably never meet again….well…guess who asked my roommate for my number tonight? And then proceeded to ask me for it on Facebook so he wouldn’t seem like a creeper for getting it from someone else? Hockey Player boy who I wanted to jump when I met him.

He now gets an official letter because we’ve been talking for the past two hours or so. He’s told me numerous times that I’m hot. That’s I’m awesome. That’s I’m definitely sexy. And if he was in town he can honestly say he’d be trying to ‘tap that.’

I think he has some promise. At the very least in the fling department.

So, from here on out, Hockey Player will now be called H.

Look forward to some new developments with him in the coming months. Lol.

Rants and Raves Because I’m Procrastinating Again

7 10 2008

I have a feeling that these procrastination posts might become a regular thing on my blog. Because when I have a six page paper due tomorrow, the only thing I can think of to do is blog! :D

Which is not good.

My back hurts. I blame X. We’ve fucked on my bed enough now that it squeaks. It didn’t used to do that but I guess give it two months of rough sex and things like that happen. And the walls in my apartment are ungodly thin. Like I can hear everything that goes on in the living room thin. Despite the fact that my bed is against two outside walls, the squeaky bed makes X nervous or something probably because of my thin walls. So his new thing is to throw my comforter on the floor and fuck on that.

My floor is hard. X is not exactly Mr. Dainty. I HURT.

Get me a tool set and some 151… wait……that’s the shit that makes my tongue go numb……..WD40 and I will make my bed not squeak. Until then, I guess I get fucked on the floor. Which was fun at first but the novelty is wearing off with the development of aches in my back.

In class today, I learned I’m a total and utter loser. We were given a ditto with 13 questions about John Locke’s Second Treatise on Government. I answered every single one in detail without once opening my book. My group was done in ten minutes. It’s really sad that I know that piece of writing so well.

It’s just as sad that I’m planning on naming my first son Locke. Yes. I am a political philosophy nerd. Yes. I am a freak. ::bows and exits stage right::

In less amusing news, I’m anxiously awaiting my period. I missed last month but didn’t tell X because I didn’t want him to worry. I’m on a pill where it’s not uncommon to miss periods, and I’ve also been really stressed. So it’s probably that. But I still worry. So, by this time next week I’ll either be happy or panicking with X over buying a test.

And the part that scares me the most is that I may be pro-choice all the way and gung ho, but I personally would choose life because I don’t think I could ever live with the decision. The only grey area is what I would actually do about it all. Which is scary. And I don’t even want to think that way.

And honestly I highly doubt I am. I’m just a natural worrier.

And I should be writing my philosophy paper on Aristotle and blah and bleh and other shit. But I’m lazy. And I don’t like the prompt. I want to say fuck it and make my own but I would not get a good grade with that. Sigh.

Memories and Words

4 10 2008

It’s funny how certain songs can take you back in time.

There are some songs that when I hear, I get transported back to memories I sometimes otherwise forget. Some songs remind me of people, others of seasons in my life. And at Amy’s request to know more about ME not just about my sex life and X, I thought this would be a good way to explore it.

Scotty Doesn’t Know by Lustra: This was the anthem of my summers in High School; summer after Freshman, Sophomore and Junior years. It will forever remind me of the time when BFA and BFL and I were inseparable. BFL’s dad called us the Three Musketeers, cheesy and cliched, but it was true. You didn’t invite one of us somewhere without knowing the other two would come. It reminds me of summers up at BFL’s cabin on the lake, where we’d get slutted up. Or as slutty as one could get for 15 year olds. We’d dress in jean skirts and flip flops and cleavage showing tank tops. We’d strut around the lake town, showing off to all the townie boys how we were hotter than the girls they had. I got my first kiss up there. We’d met these three boys and led them to a secluded pier. Sitting with our feet in rocks and the water lapping nearby, we each picked a boy and made out with them. BFL called out switch. And so we did. Every so often we’d call it out when we got bored of the boy we were with. So in one night I went from never been kissed, to having kissed five people, two of them my best friends. And Scotty Doesn’t Know will always bring me back to that time.

We’re not as close now. BFL lives an hour and twenty away from me. And so it’s not hard to go see her, but she’s very busy this semester. I feel like she and I are growing apart. She’s all grown up. She doesn’t party anymore, or hook up with guys. She’s got her boy. I wouldn’t be surprised if they got married.

BFA is a bit different. She’s back home still, so that’s five hours away. But I’m going home in two weeks, so I’ll get to see her which makes me smile like a fucking idiot. Of all my friends, I think she’s the one who will be there for me forever and ever and ever. We talk anywhere from once every two weeks to two or three times in one. And we can talk for hours. She actually baby-sits my younger brother still. So she’s over my house more than I am during the school year. She see my mom more than I do. I miss her.

Smooth by Rob Thomas: I did debate for four years in high school. And my senior year, I actually qualified to go to nationals in Wichita, Kansas. I totally bombed, going 2 for 10 and not getting past prelims. And there was drama galore. My own teammates tried kicking me out of my room. And I was in general not treated like a member of the team to the ire of my head coach. The old head coach had come with some of the other kids, and they stood behind her as she caused problems for me. My coach, however, was judging and taking care of my friend who was is student congress and was actually doing really well. So I was adopted by another school from my area. I hung out with them and this one other school for the rest of the week. This song reminds me of the night I got shoved in a van with a mix of people from those two schools. And this song came on and everyone started dancing. The guys sitting in front of me pretended to rub their nipples and drap themselves on each other, just to make the people in the cars next to us uncomfortable. And we all laughed. It’s one of the happiest memories I have from high school and it doesn’t involve a single person from my school.

Bruised by Jack’s Mannequin: I bought this CD the day it came out. And I drove to my last summer of band camp listening to this song. It reminds me of hot summer days spent on the black top marching around in my favorite pair of jeans and a tank top. It reminds me of pepperoni rolls and sombreros and not knowing who I was yet. It reminds me of cymbals and bruises all up and down my arms; little black and blue lines of pinched skin. It reminds me of blisters on my hands and band aids and drum tape wrapped around my fingers. It reminds me of late nights on buses driving home from football games. It reminds me of what I used to be.

Come on Eileen the version by No Doubt: This song reminds me of middle school and the snobby girls I called my friends. They would have been considered snobby hipsters by today’s standards. We loved this song. And thought we were so cool for knowing it. It reminds me of nights spent watching Almost Famous and messing with Tarot Cards.

Life of a Salesman by Yellowcard: This one is simple. It reminds me of my father. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here before, but I lost my father when I was twelve. Actually, come next saturday, it will be exactly seven years since I lost him. My dad and I were very, very, very close. He’s honestly the only person I think actually understood me until I met X. And X actually reminds me a bit of my dad in some respects. I think part of my problem with men stems from losing him when I was young. It don’t trust men easily. And I’m terrified of losing people in my life. Like literally full body petrification of losing someone.

The Queen and I by Gym Class Heroes: This was my personal anthem first semester last year. I partied HARD. And it wasn’t good. X got me out of that cycle for the most part. He told me at the end of last year that he worried because I was a borderline alcoholic then. I laughed and told him it isn’t alcoholism until you leave college. I still drink pretty hard, having learned how to party from a frat. I don’t chase shots, I can chuge a beer and kick your ass in beer pong. I just try to limit myself.

Dirty Business by The Dresden Dolls: This is my personal anthem right now mostly for a few lines. “She’s the kind of girl who looks for love in all the lonely places, the kind who comes to poker pockets stuffed with kings and aces.”   “She’s the kind of girl who leaves out condoms on the bedroom dresser just to make you jealous of the men she fucked before you met her.”

How to be Dead by Snow Patrol: Reminds me of the boy I was head over heels for my Sophmore year of high school. He was a pot head, but he was smart and funny and deep and I wanted to be with him. But it never happened. We had an awkward relationship where we talked all the time and hung out all the time, but never did anything. I think he was as confused as I was as to what he wanted. I went to England that summer for two weeks. I asked if he’d miss me. He told me ‘no,’ and when I got back from my trip he never talked to me again.

Just recently he’s tried to start talking again. And honestly, I never forgave him for what he did. But I guess since I grew out of my awkward phase and I’m now hot, I’m worth his effort. I try to ignore him.

Paper Bag by Fiona Apple: This song reminds me so much of the cold winter last year. Things had just gotten deeper with X. We’d gone from making out and fooling around to having sex. I gave him my virginity. And this song just embodied my confusion. I wanted him to be with me and at that point I had yet to accept that he was still with his girlfriend. I was coming to terms with what was going on between us. I was falling in love with him and denying to myself that I was.

So there you go. I have given some insight into my life though songs that can still make me cry remembering what used to be.


2 10 2008

Public Administration is the most difficult class I’ve ever taken.

“It was pointed out some time ago that any one-paragraph or even one-sentence definition of public administration is bound to prove temporarily mind-paralyzing” From Public Administration: Understanding Management, Politics, and Law in the Public Sector by Rossenbloom, Kravchuck and Clerkin.

Shoot me now. I don’t understand this shit very well and it’s making me want to tear my bloody fucking hair out! The professor talks and talks and talks but never actually says anything of any worth, or ever even really teaches us anything. The most I’ve gotten out of this class has been the details on our school’s pet policy in dorms.

But I can’t risk failing this class. I CAN NOT. I get anything below a B and my mother is pulling me from my university and making me go to the shit one back home. (Which is my WORST NIGHTMARE EVER) I’ve been working so damn hard and getting good grades in other classes. This one……it worries me. And fucking X went to bed 15 minutes ago. So I have no one to freak my shit out to anymore. He’s my go to guy for my own personal mini mental breakdowns.

I tend to hold things in until I burst into either a fit of rage or hysterics. I once had a crying fit over the fact that my printer wasn’t working. X was only able to calm me down after an hour of messing with it, and then finally printing out what I needed on his printer for me. I didn’t sleep without being heavily self medicated with Nyquil for almost a week because I thought X was starting something with another girl.

Thankfully, I seem to be in a happier place now, well, now relatively speaking. Now as in this year, not this second. I’m freaking out this second. Though part of the reason I’m not freaking my shit out more often this year is because X has gotten me to the point where if something is bothering me, I tell him. And I don’t stress, or stew or simmer over it anymore for days.

So yes. Right now. Freaking out. Exam tomorrow. And freaking out.

fajkdsfjhudksgvnkmjdasuhfvcklmhrfkdsfjuioerkldsjmlxc.,mnsiolka.,mfnmhislo;lkndvk shlek.hrdnmklc

Reader Interactions!

2 10 2008

I think that I have enough relatively regular readers that I can do something like this: I want your guy’s opinions.

Tell me what you want to see more of, and what topics you’d like me to write about. If I should do more fiction or more opinion based stuff. Tell me what you like and what you don’t like.

I want some feedback!

And on another note, I think I’m going to try to expand my blog a bit. I’m thinking more ‘interactive’ posts for me. Interactive meaning going out and trying things/doing things/talking to people and then writing about it. I know, it’s a little vague right now, but expect some funny and obviously dirty posts in the future. To give you an idea of what I’m thinking of here’s the title for a post I’m planning on doing with the help of BFJ: Testing out  ‘Pub Games for Whores’