Archive for September, 2011

Like Lady Liberty

Posted in Uncategorized on September 24, 2011 by sanguinesnow

In the summer of 2003, I had just moved into a new house full of roommates, and was already packing for a trip.  The last couple of months had involved me being fired from a job I had thought was secure, allowing a friend who turned out not to be such a good friend to talk me into moving to a town I wouldn’t otherwise have considered living in, and emptying out my embryoinc retirement account to cover the move and any time I might spend looking for a new job.  Not the best time to travel, but I remember clearly why I did it and I’d probably do it again today.

When I moved, it was mostly because I’d been talked into it, but what had made me open to the suggestion was the youthful desire for a fresh start.  The town I’d been living in was the same one I’d grown up in, and that tends to get stale.  Also, I had romantic issues.  I had been trying to meet someone worth my time, but just had more bad dates and dead ends.  The one person I was really interested in was Joe, but I was just too nervous to actually make any kind of moves.  We’d known each other for maybe a year and half or two years, and had gotten right into a physical relationship of sorts, but based on my experience I was pretty sure that was all it was.  Emma, the mutual friend who’d introduced us kept nudging me toward it being more, but I suspected that she was just being romantic or something.  Sometime around the whole moving and unpacking project, she told me that after I’d lost my job Joe was maybe going to suggest that I move in with him but then I’d left so quickly and seemed so sure of it that it never got mentioned.  How much of this was ever true I don’t know.  Maybe it was just the impression she’d gotten, but it does stick in my mind.  In any case, after getting the idea that I had seriously misjudged things, I called Joe up and asked if I could drop by for a visit.  (“dropping by” involving many hours of driving . . . )

So then I was packing.  My old job had paid me well enough to allow me to stock up on clothing and things, so I was going through a pile of lacy underwear that I hadn’t even worn yet trying to pick out the best things to wear.  As I was starting to pull tags off knickers, one of the roommates stuck her head in my room to talk to me about something.  Seeing what I was up to, she said, “You bought underwear just for this trip?!”  Well . . . not really . . . but . . . I realised I was possibly about to Try Too Hard.

The trip itself didn’t work out so well.  Instead of laying it all on the table like the current wiser version of myself would, I nervously asked if he was happy with how things were.  When he said yes, I assumed I really was just a warm body and should move on if I wanted anything more, and (as I know from comparing notes later) he thought he was agreeing to long-distance dating and not pressuring me into more commitment than I wanted at the time.

What reminded me of this old story today was shopping for more underwear.  Also a bedframe, and some “adult” books.  But mostly underwear.  When I was still in my last relationship, I would dress up in sexy nighties and not get any kind of response at all.  I eventually gave up on all that, and my lingerie collection got more and more sparse and worn.  Now that I’m single, I like wearing pretty underthings even when I’m just going to work or the grocery store.  As I was browsing online earlier, I found myself thinking of how I used to save the “fancy” underwear for someone truly important to see.  Now I want to wear it all the time, since it’s more to make me feel good than to show off.

Still, it creeps into my mind.  We’re  “just friends” at this point, but I can admit now that I have been carrying that torch for years.  I enjoy my life for what it is, but every time I put on an especially nice pair, knowing no one else can see them, I really just want to make that long drive again and do it right this time.

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Time Suck and No Posts

Posted in Uncategorized on September 11, 2011 by sanguinesnow

I have a draft I’m working on.  I have ideas for future posts.  I have a million distractions and a full calendar.  I have been able to keep up with my goal of writing something every day, but having something ready to post here every day is not going to happen anytime soon (not this semester anyway).  I’m a bit frustrated, since I enjoy blogging much more than I enjoy some of the class time I have, but that’s the reality I’m facing right now.  I’m mostly just venting right now, since I feel better after I’ve done so, but I also want to mention how much the lack of time can weigh on someone trying to work on a project purely for the sake of working on it.

Most of my friends can relate to this.  I remember someone – I can’t remember who, or what prompted this observation – saying that the old system of artists working for patrons needed to come back.  If you look into it, you’ll find that lots of the greats, the ones remembered by history, were able to work because they had the financial backing of the church or the local nobles.  I’m not anywhere near the point that I could get a patron if such things existed, and I wouldn’t want to live under the feudal or religious system that would bring them back, but I would like just a few more hours in each day.

Standards, Continued

Posted in Uncategorized on September 5, 2011 by sanguinesnow

The original idea for this project was to keep a sexy secret diary about sexy sex.  I’ll get around to that (hopefully), but I have a Nympho With Standards rant that I need to get through first.  My last post was a general lead-up to this, so I might as well get it out of the way.  It may be educational, too!

My last relationship had been a little short on affection.  Very short, actually – it was officially the longest I have ever gone in my adult life without sex.  Once I was out of it, I was all ready to go!  A good friend of mine spent a couple of days (and nights.  Especially nights.) reminding me how much fun it is to have a body.  This rant is not about that friend.

This happened after I’d gotten back home from our extended visit and popped my hip joints back into place so I could walk normally again.  I was feeling great, and alive, and ready for more, but Joe does not live in the same town as me.  Obviously, the reasonable thing to do was to start looking for someone a bit more local who might serve a similar purpose.  Being a young, tech-savvy sort of person, I keep up with everyone from good friends to my grandma to random people I meet at parties on The Facebook.  This one facebook friend dude I knew from “around” (you know – mutual friends, seeing each other at social events) had drunkenly tried to kiss me once at a party.  I was still attached at the time, so I dodged that shit as gracefully as was possible.  I will absolutely end a bad relationship before I’ll even think of cheating.  Anyway, Dude was clearly interested, so the next time he tried to drunkenly kiss me at a social event I was all for it.  No way was I inviting him back to bed though; he probably would have fallen over and hit his head on something and I’d have to play nurse but not in a fetishy kind of way.  Also, if you’re too drunk to actually stand up you are probably too drunk to satisfy me.

Well, not long after that, he messaged me saying that kissing me had been hot.  After a bit of online flirting, he went ahead and told me he loved eating pussy and wanted to come over to my place to please me.  Hell, yeah, I said (or something like that).  I was all for it, but wanted to lay it all out on the table first.  I wanted the sex, but No Boyfriend.  Just to make it clear that this was going to be a hookup and not a relationship with gooey emotional feelings.  He says that sounds great, but then tells me this long story about how he doesn’t want a relationship because the last girl he was in a relationship with hurt him this way and that and blah blah blah . . . .  (Red flag there, regardless of gender.  If you are about to hook up with someone and they need to emote about their last relationship it is not a good sign.  A simple statement that it didn’t work, or even that it was bad is probably okay, but a Tolstoy-length whinge is dodgy territory.  I know, I know; this post is a lengthy whinge on my part, but you are probably not about to see me naked so this is an entirely different situation.)

Possible red flags ignored, I continued the flirting/negotiations.  I had a free night that would be perfect for a visit, so how about then?  He suggested bondage as part of the evening, which made me all the more enthusiastic.

Now, I’m sure you all know what bondage is.  Maybe you have some experience, or a lot.  Maybe you just googled it and will be busy for the next several hours.  The point is, although it had been a while, I’d always enjoyed it and was happy to have found someone to play with.  The other point is, I enjoy bondage, but not S&M.  If you don’t know the difference, please look into it before you get involved.  Experimenting is fine, but if you already know what you do and do not like (which I do) you will not appreciate someone trying to go for the old “if you’ll do that, you’ll do anything” trick.  With that in mind, I am going to refer to the dude as “DB” from here on out.  Because he ended up being a douchebag.  (This is such a handy insult.  It’s a thing that is useless and may be harmful to women.)

The date was set, and I was getting ready.  I’d stocked up the fridge with beer and food, showered and shaved, and was putting on my makeup when DB called.  He said he’d be over soon, and I should “put on something sexy”.  I got into a mesh thong, my shortest miniskirt, and a tiny camisole.  I was ready!  When DB got out of his car, I was a wee bit disappointed.  Although he had demanded that I dress up for him, he was wearing ugly old gym shorts and a t-shirt, and clearly hadn’t bothered to clean up.  This is the appearance standard I mentioned in the last post in action!  Sure, I love to dress up for someone I’m with.  The last person who actually gave me instructions on what to wear did so as part of a Master/submissive  relationship, but he had actually dressed for his part as well.  If I’m going to dress like your slutty pleasure object, I expect you to look (and smell) a bit more like a powerful Man and less like some kid who just grabbed some dirty laundry on the way out the door.  But okay, who cares, right?  Let’s move on.

The next clue that this night was not going to live up to my expectations was the tying-up part.  DB had suggested shibari, which I really hadn’t done before but had wanted to try.  Well, it quickly became apparent that he had never done it before either.  That alone would not have been a problem at all.  Nor would it have bothered me that he had to keep referring to an online video with shitty trance music that he played over and over as he tried to figure out how to get the ropes knotted properly around my naked body.  What ruined the mood for me was that he would get all into getting the ropes right and then stop to be “dominant” and then go back to fiddling.  Some people can show their dominant side to great effect.  Other people are DB, and resort to grabbing you by the hair and snarling for a few seconds to “set the mood” before going back to staring at a half-done knot and saying “hmmmm . . . “.   I am not making fun of DB for being a beginner.  I am making fun of him for making claims that he should have known he couldn’t live up to, and then being a dick about it later.  See, after he finally got me tied properly we decided to have a cigarette break.  During this and every other cigarette break we took, DB would squint at me and say, “Mmmmm . . . I’d like to – but no, you’re not ready for that . . . “.  Well, he never told me what I wasn’t “ready” for, so I can’t tell you what it was.  I didn’t bother to ask, since I assumed he was trying to psych me out and I didn’t want to play that particular game.  The important thing about this is that there is a HUGE difference between not being “ready” for a thing and just plain not being interested in it.  When we finally got back to it, DB decided to put some nipple clamps on me.  Had he bothered to spend any time at all getting acquainted with my body, he’d have known that I have extremely sensitive nipples.  This would be a good thing to know before you just slap some clamps on someone.  I said that was something I didn’t really enjoy (also, this is where the line between bondage and straight-up pain comes in for me) and I’d rather not have them on.  DB just loosened them a bit, and started yanking.  They were loose enough to come off, so he told me my “titties” were “weak” and “useless”.  This is absolutely the point that I should have just given up on the evening and kicked him out.  Things pretty much went downhill from there, which is how I now know what a good point to kick someone out is.

All of the above reflects standard #2 (I’m still writing about that, in case you got sidetracked while reading).  The Master I mentioned earlier was highly intelligent, and had the ability to turn any given evening into something deeply intriguing with few or no props.  His approach to our relationship was also based on a mental connection, so He understood what worked with me.  He never used humiliation or insults as part of play, so I never thought that was automatically part of a bondage session.  As far as I’m concerned, it isn’t, unless one party knows the other party is receptive to that kind of treatment.  He also knew my body so well that He always used just the right amount of pain or firmness.  (And that’s not because we had a long-term thing going; it’s because a skilled lover knows how to tell what their partner is responding to and will act accordingly.)  I’m not saying this just to compare the two, but to give an illustration of what works and what doesn’t.  This applies to every kind of sex that exists.  Involve the brain, and be attentive to your partner and you can’t go wrong.

That’s s good sentence to end this post on, but I did mention a third issue with hookups in my previous post.  After the whole thing was over and I’d send DB on his way I was done.  He called that same weekend and wanted to come back, so I said (politely) I wasn’t interested.  He then started sending me messages that were increasingly insulting and pathetic at the same time.  He told me would “help me work through my issues” and have “vanilla sex” with me and so on, although a more perceptive person might have realized there was not going to be a second time and also moved on.  He even pulled out the old “I value you as a friend” card, even though we’d only ever seen each other casually and were never “friends” in any sense of the word.

Not long after all this nonsense, I found someone else to hook up with who also didn’t get a second time, but for different reasons.  Joe’s still not exactly local, but he is terribly good at phone sex, which has been tiding me over lately.  One of these guys will be the focus of my next post, unless I think of something else I want to say.

She Nailed It . . .

Posted in Uncategorized on September 5, 2011 by sanguinesnow

One of the little things that always makes my day is when some clever person has the exact perfect way of putting things.  Something that sums up what I’d been trying to say, in fewer and better words.

The She in the title of this post is someone I don’t know very well yet, but get along with well enough to be beyond the small talk phase.  The other day, she referred to herself as being “a nympho with standards”.  Why didn’t I think of that?  I didn’t, but I am absolutely stealing it for future use.  There it is, in just three words.

When dudes are sitting around bemoaning the fact that they’re not getting laid, someone will eventually mention that it’s SO hard for guys, and SO easy for girls, since supposedly anyone with more than one X chromosome can just stroll into a bar or whatever and just pick someone up.  (I’m going to put aside the fact that that’s not even true to start with, since  that would be another post altogether.  Trust me, it’s not actually true.  For the sake of this post we’re going to assume the lady in question is attractive enough by local standards that she could in fact pick up someone fairly easily.)

Let’s keep it hypothetical for now and say this reasonably good-looking female is in the mood for some sex.  Being unattached and open-minded, she’s going to go find a guy to hook up with for the evening.  Easy enough so far.  Now there’s the first level of standards to deal with – appearance.  Some guys understand that this works both ways; they have a certain “type” or a set of grooming/presentation standards that need to be met before they will consider hooking up with someone, so they know that the someone in question will also have purely physical expectations.  Some guys don’t get this at all.  Again, this would warrant an entire discussion of how gender is handled in this culture, but for now I’m just going to point it out and move on.

Once our hypothetical lady has found someone who seems physically interesting, she might strike up a conversation.  This is the point where plenty of hot guys become . . . less hot.  There is no nice way to put this at all:  stupid people are boring in bed.  Also, this is the point where regardless of intelligence, the red flags for “dangerously unbalanced” and “misogynist ass” will sometimes show up.

Now the third thing, I’m not sure even falls under the “standards” category, but it’s been enough of an issue with HL that it’s a Thing To Be Wary Of.  It’s less obvious than the first two hurdles, but can be more problematic.  This hypothetical is about fun, NSA sexy times.  The lady in question will have made this clear.  It is a one-night stand.  If the guy agrees to this, and then calls/texts/e-mails over and OVER after the deed is done, with no prompting or encouragement, it is just plain obnoxious.  If both parties want to revisit the fun sexytimes, great!  If one party is obviously ignoring the other, that means it really was just one night and it’s time to move on.  Again, culture may be partly at fault here, since dudes are constantly getting the message that women “play games” and it’s up to them to pursue us and not accept a “no”.  This is bullshit.  There are plenty of games I like, but none of them involve pretending to be uninterested when I actually am.  When I say no, that is the only thing it ever means.

Those are the standards, and they do make it difficult for someone like me, who just wants a good dirty time with no trouble or nasty surprises.  Next post, I will go ahead and get in a good rant about Why I Will Not Compromise The Standards, Though I Be Constantly Horny.

First Post is Always Boring, Right?

Posted in Uncategorized on September 3, 2011 by sanguinesnow

Reader, I’m starting a blog.

This is an idea that’s been knocking around in my brain for a while now, so might as well get into it.  Being less-than-tecnologically-inclined, I wasn’t drawn to blogging as an outlet for my writing urges to start with, but here we are.

I’m not entirely sure what this spot will turn into, but what pushed me into it was having a specific thing to write about, and a friend encouraging me to do it.  The friend (let’s call him Jonathan.  Maybe John for short) is one of those rare people who used to be a lover and is now one of my closest friends.  One afternoon recently, we were sitting on the porch together catching up on our lives.  I’d just gotten out of a relationship that had been – not to be too dramatic here – soul-crushing.  The ex did not want me to so much as speak to someone I had actually slept with at some point in the past, so I didn’t have much contact with Jonathan for a few years.  I’m skimming over things here, but maybe it’ll come up later.  It will if it’s relevant.  Anyway, catching up on our lives; I’ve always been a highly sexual person, but that side of me had been unwelcome in the late relationship.  I’d done my best to compromise and keep it all buried, which anyone will tell you is not a healthy approach to one’s feelings.  Since I’d been single and free I had dipped my toe back into to world of sex and all that comes with it.  In just a few months I’d already had bad experiences, amazingly great experiences, and experiences that I wanted to examine more closely.  I’d been playing with the idea of a “sex blog” to use as a dumping ground/shooting range for all these ideas and such, and mentioned as much to Jonathan.  He said, “Hell yeah!” or something to that effect, and we moved on to other topics.  Weeks passed with no writing, and then maybe a few more weeks passed with no writing and then tonight I said, “Might as well start now.  Got to get that boring introductory post out of the way.”

Once again I was talking with Jonathan.  I mentioned that all the names I had thought of for this thing had already been taken and I was stuck trying to come up with what to call the damn thing.  He thought for a moment and said, “Sanguine Snow”.  I checked and no one had taken that one yet!  Might as well use it.  That’s why this post is partly a big “Thank You!” for the name, and also for always encouraging me to write.  Years ago, when we were together, he and I shared a creaky old attic.  We were poor students, which is never actually as romantic in real life as it sounds in novels (neither is living in a creaky old attic, for that matter).  A friend of mine had given me my first computer – a laptop which was so outdated that I couldn’t use it for much else than writing.  I used it for school assignments, but also for short fiction.  I was sure that I’d keep hammering away on those keys for a few years and then be ready to start submitting things for publication.  Plenty has happened between than and now, and I’m not half thinking of publishing anytime soon, but it feels good to be hammering away again.  I’m just going to ramble to my heart’s content and if you want to, you can read all about what’s on my mind.