...Long Time

Young and full of running
tell me where is that taking me?
just a great figure eight
or a tiny infinity?

love is really nothing
but a dream that keeps waking me
for all of my trying
we still end up dying
how can it be?

don't say a word
just come over and lie here with me
'cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see

I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe
there I just said it
I'm scared you'll forget about me

so young and full of running
all the way to the edge of desire
steady my breathing
silently screaming
I have to have you now

wired and I'm tired
think I'll sleep in my clothes on the floor
Or maybe this mattress will spin on its axis
and find me on yours

don't say a word
just come over and lie here with me
cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see

I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe
there I just said it
I'm scared you'll forget about me

don't say a word
just come over and lie here with me
cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see

I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe
there I just said it
I'm scared you'll forget about me

Edge of Desire - John Mayer

J.J.Wait

I sat in Jimmy Johns reading a Cosmo while waiting for Mr.U to pick me up.SexTips&Unwich.
Nothing better.

I Remember

CuriosityKilledtheCat
I don’t remember the moment that my sexual curiosity developed. I don’t remember a distinct day when I wanted to kiss my best girlfriend in the 5th grade. I just remember kissing her. I remember sleeping naked next to her – our 10-year-old bodies not understanding why we desired to do so. I remember stolen kisses in laundry rooms and provocative dancing at underage parties. I remember using booze as an excuse, but knowing full-well what my intentions were. I remember kissing boys cos I was “supposed to.” I didn’t mind – but I don’t remember enjoying. I remember being jealous and feeling guilty. I remember wanting. I don’t remember feeling like I shouldn’t “feel things” but I remember knowing that I shouldn’t tell.
I remember and I forget and I erase and I imagine.
I remember the first time my roommate touched me. My entire body tingled. I’d stifled my desires so incredibly that her fingertips seemed to burn my skin. I remember aching for more – but burying my hipbones in the beige carpet to avoid turning and allowing both of us to acknowledge how little control I had. I remember wincing in agony as she traced the back of my ribcage. I remember my breaths coming merely from the back of my tongue – the depth of my existence had been captured by her hands. I remember when she finally kissed my shoulder and the surrounding carpet turned to undulating, warm liquids. I remember shadows and darkness and panting and rubbing. I remember yearning and knowing. I knew that she held all the cards. And remember giving them to her.
I remember opening my sleepy eyes to the note on my pillow:
“thank you for the night.”
I remember feeling like all the things I should or shouldn’t, have or hadn’t, want or waited for made sense. Reality had set in. Those naked nights in my awkward pre-teen body – those lip-locks on the washing machine – those shirtless grinds to Ludacris: they’d been nothing to be ashamed of. I’d known all along that I shouldn’t be. I remember knowing. I remember feeling set-free and released, though. I may've never felt stifled – but I felt like shouting, now. Curiosity hadn’t killed this cat – it had released the soul inside of me. I remember wanting everyone to feel what I was feeling. But I knew that that’s irrational. Curiosity can break a person down – ruin the life they’ve been happily leading – boggle their mind and jumble their spirit. I was lucky that night on the floor. I remember knowing that I was meant for that moment. Not everyone is meant for those moments.
The key to remembering is not needing to forget or erase or imagine.
I remember. And I thank her for the night.

WindyCity Weekend

Mr.U and I decided to take a last-minute trip to Chicago this weekend.
Friday, we stayed with his cousins on the south side. I love meeting people’s families. You know you’ve got a good person on your hands when you love their family. We had homemade pizza, drank a ton of beer, and I toured the neighbors’ houses – absolutely in love with all the architecture.
Saturday we got up and got mexican breakfast at Bialy's – went into the city and walked around – laid on a bench in Millennium Park for a couple hours – checked into our hotel room – took a nap – went to dinner and drank all night at Timothy O’Tooles.
Sunday we woke up – had sex – and I went out for coffee while he slept some more. When we finally got around we headed to Wrigleyville for the day – got breakfast at Pick Me Up Café and drinks with friends at Red Ivy. A million too many shots later and I was turned away from the next bar – passed out on the train – wandered away from Mr.U and got a ride from some generous college students.
I need to stop getting lost and being saved by strangers. One of these times I won’t be so lucky. And one of these times he won’t be so forgiving. Fortunately, he was and our weekend was wonderful.

Captured Happiness

If I never wake up next to you again
I'd still be thankful
for the mornings I was able to.Some moments are uncapturable.
Indescribably irresistible events.
This weekend was full of blurry bars, stumbling steps, and morning sex.
I’m still not sure what I’m doing with you, Mr.
Or if I should be doing it at all.
But I’m happy.
Truly content with my moments in your presence.

"When can I call you my girlfriend?"
"Ask me again in January."

Stinky Kisses

I simply don’t like morning kisses. I honestly never ever have.
Morning sex?
Yes.
A different story after teeth brushing or mouth wash using.
But simple morning kisses with nasty morning breath are absolutely anything but appealing to me. I feel like a meany when I avoid them, but someone coming at my cotton mouth with their stinky breath makes me want to jump out of my warm cocoon and kick them out of my space.
Snuggle away.
(if I'm feeling snuggly)
But save all face to face contact until you’ve gotten rid of that morning breath.
Please.

Stranger Sex

So
a friend of mine met a guy on Match.com
went to his apartment
and had sex with him.
soberly.
on a random Wednesday evening.
(their 1st encounter)
I could never ever do that.
I feel I’m pretty comfortable with myself and my body, but
– when it comes to sex –
I need to be comfortable with the other person and their body also.
I guess I’m just glad I don’t have a sexual “need” for another person’s contact.
Cause the idea of sex with a stranger is actually a little terrifying to me.