Archive for September, 2013


September 27, 2013 Leave a comment

Sexual frustration hits me hard. It’s distracting, makes me snappy, things you’d expect. Then there’s the paranoia: maybe I’m not having sex because my partners don’t find me desirable. Maybe I’m not desirable. It all gets disgustingly self-pitying and the worst part is that I know better, but knowing there’s not a sound rational basis for these thoughts doesn’t make them go away.

I haven’t had sex in over a week. More to the point, I haven’t had an orgasm since last Monday. As in, eleven days. It’s contributing to an unhealthy retreat away from people and into my own head, but I don’t seem to be able to pull out of it.

I don’t even know how to talk about this without sounding like a complete brat, because I know how lucky I am to have Spouse and the Techie, and plenty of people go for far longer than a week or two without sex and manage not to whine about it all over the Internet. If it were just a brief period without sex, I’d probably be just fine and move on. It’s the circumstances that my brain twists into paranoia and self-loathing that are making it so hard to deal with right now.

Spouse has a fairly low sex drive. (Okay, just about everyone does compared to me.) If I initiate things and he’s not exhausted, sexy times will ensue (and be awesome), but he’s typically not going to be spontaneously in the mood. Lately, his mouth has been in so much pain that he can’t enjoy kissing at all. Since kissing is probably my all-time favorite activity, it kind of makes the process of initiating sexy times unpleasant and awkward for me.

The Techie’s been busy. It’s something we’ve agreed to talk about, because it’s getting ridiculous. He works late into the night on weekdays, and a significant portion of weekends. Essentially, when he’s free and invites me to do things, it’s after 2300 and I should be sleeping. When I’m free, he’s working. We met for a while last Friday night, but the girl who lives with him got back into town that same evening and he said he had to be responsible and talk to her alone a while: there were things to process.

Since I’m not seeing anyone else right now, and masturbation is just not working (because my brain hates me. Seriously. I need a new one.), I’m feeling kind of stuck. The feeling-undesirable could probably be alleviated by dirty texting or something, but because I feel that way I can’t bring myself to hit send so they get deleted.

So, yeah. I need to get laid. This will require being all sorts of proactive.

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Oral Fixation

September 15, 2013 2 comments

I’ve been in bed for hours. I should be sleeping, but I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.

I’m thinking of kissing you. The lightest touch of lip against lip, not quite a kiss but charged, waiting. It takes me back to Millikan, to drop of oil hovering still in the air, to an impossible calm. Hard, bruising kisses while we crash into each other, fumbling out of clothes or just yanking them out of the way. Long, slow, good-night kisses that can’t be allowed to end because when they do I have to leave. Kissing you while you laugh. You kissing me to devour the screams when you hit me, when I come, sometimes both at the same time.

I’m thinking of the way you damn near maul my ears. Your breath and tongue invasive. My body wants to pull away: it’s too intimate, too much a breach of my defenses. I can’t be still. The writhing makes you growl, so close you might as well be in my own head. It’s invasive, excruciating, sends a terrible need shivering across the whole surface of my skin. I can’t stand it. I don’t want it to stop.

I’m thinking of your teeth. Anywhere and everywhere never biting quite hard enough. I can feel the restraint in your jaw when you close it on my collarbone, your beard scratching against my skin. When I look in the mirror in the morning I want to find your bite written on my skin somewhere among the bruises.

You’re in my head. Not just on my mind but my whole nervous system. I want so much out of so little time: conversations and meals and projects and scenes and places we could go.

Tonight, it’s simpler than all that. I’m missing you, of course, and wishing that tonight for once you could have been free as planned, but I’m not worried about any of it. I just can’t quite seem to stop thinking about your mouth.

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Stepping Out, a Little Bit

September 9, 2013 7 comments

Last night I asked my sister to call me. We don’t talk on the phone all that much, just text about projects or trivial nonsense. So I’m not surprised that she called about forty seconds after I texted her. If I ask her to call, she’s going to assume something is wrong.

“I’m dating someone,” Even over the phone I have my eyes closed, braced for yelling. It’s hard to know what to expect. She’s a lesbian, so it may be easier for her to understand alternate sexuality. On the other hand, she’s a registered republican, very conservative. This could go badly.

“What the hell?” Okay, at least she’s calm.

She has questions. Does Spouse know? (Of course, I’m not a monster.) Are you getting a divorce? (No, we’re doing fine.) Does the Techie know you’re married? (Of course. He and Spouse are friends, actually.) Is Spouse dating someone else too? (It’s complicated. I guess not really right now. He sometimes does.)

She says she doesn’t understand. That if her girlfriend were to go out with someone else and still want to be with her, she’d like to punch her in the throat.

“That’s not a good spot for punching.”

“That’s kind of the point. I couldn’t–I mean Jesus, Nic, there’s no way I could live like that.”

“No one’s asking you to.”

“Have you told dad?”

“I don’t think the afterlife has cell phone reception this good.”

“Fair point. What about mom?”

“Not yet. I wanted to ask you about that.”


It’s what I expected to hear. Expected can still be upsetting. I ask why. Clearly mom’s calmed down to some degree. When I told her I had a girlfriend in high school she cried for days, called a gay uncle and blamed him, shouted and denied and cried some more. Now she facebook chats with my sister’s girlfriend, and talks about her like she’s family.

“Why do you want to tell her? I mean, this is hard for me. Her generation, and the way she is about marriage. She won’t get it. I’m glad you’re happy, if everyone’s happy that’s fine. Mom will just hear that you’re cheating on Spouse, and Spouse is cheating on you, and it’s just going to make her miserable. It’s not like you live near home [over 800 miles] so you don’t have to sneak around and hope she never sees you in a restaurant or anything.”

She’s right. The problem is, my mother gets upset when she thinks I’m hiding things from her. I usually am hiding things. We had so many fights when I was a teenager, most of them because I was too blunt about things she didn’t want to hear (and also because I was a snotty monster of a teen). She’s been asking me to call more often, tell her about life and not just grad school. She met the Techie briefly in July, and has asked a few questions about him since.

The Techie won’t say either that he’d rather I keep quiet or that he wants to be a part of my life that the family knows about. I suspect that he has an actual preference one way or the other, but is trying not to influence my decision on the matter. Of course, I could be projecting what I would do and he may actually not care either way.

We talked a bit more, about her remodeling project and upcoming move. My hands were shaking when I hung up, so I IMed a very old friend to help process the conversation. One of the first questions he had was “why did you tell your sister?”

I’m not completely sure. A few reasons, maybe. I don’t know. I’ve been seeing him about six months. I think I’m trying to have enough faith that this is actually a relationship and not a fling, that he is going to be a part of my life for a while yet. It’s hard–not long ago I might have said impossible–for me to build real trust anymore but I trust the Techie. He says he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. The people I’ve known longest and care about most deserve to know about him.

I guess I’m still processing. I know not many people read this, but if anyone is, input on this one would be especially appreciated.