Back to last year

As I've said before, and as some of you know, this blog isn't about who reads or how many read [although I do love my readers dearly]. It started out when I realized I had amassed 30+ spiral notebooks of diaries. God, what would happen if the apartment burned down? I'd grab the diaries and the photos first. Everything else can go to hell.

But then, from '97-'98 I was studying abroad and while I still created about 3 notebooks, I also started endless hours in the computer lab typing out my adventures in emails to my parents. Typing seemed so much faster than handwriting out the long strings of thoughts. When I got back and plunked a computer in my very first apartment of my own, I found Yahoo Geocities. Then, this guy "rhet0ric" found me and offered to host me on his site. Then, I found Blogger - and found a need for it in '01. I leave no paper trails around for fire to lick or boyfriends to find. I write a lot more quickly and editing is so much more pretty. And, then, there are you all, you dear dear readers who pop in and reassure me that it's a good idea to be so public about my private parts. Because this is my private journal, my 1000+ spiral notebook. A place for me to get it out of my soul, cleanse my mind, jump for joy, sob for hours, and remember all the things and people and smells and minutes.

I'd like to remember the last week in December.

After my dinner with SirMax. The next day I was planning on meeting Roger the Traveller at 10am. I thought we were going for coffee, heading to a hotel room he would rent, play for hours, grab some lunch, play some more and then he'd head back to Chicago. Thank god I kind of cleaned the apartment because it happened just like that, only in my tiny cave-like womb of a studio. [I was embarrassed for him to see it because once bd made like he was really uncomfortable by the size and lack of my apartment. I am working on getting over this. ... Anyway. This isn't about 2003, we're only going back a few weeks.]

I might not be Deep Throat yet, but I do think - with the appropriate coaxing and patience - I have become, and can become for each man quite an amazing cocksucker. Roger Traveller came inside the apartment, kissed me and I reached for his belt, slowly easing him backward to the bed.

Sidebar: Now, right now, at this point in time of my life there is one major change that has occurred. I have quit drinking quite as much as I used to drink. In November, I stopped drinking during the work week when I started writing my personal statements for schools as I applied to them. I just couldn't allow myself to slosh my way through what I would think was a great 3-page paper and then wake up the next day to read shit and realize that I'd already pushed "submit this application." Then, it was a total coincidence that I stopped drinking as much with social engagements. It just so happened that I didn't want to drink before meeting SirMax for dinner. And it just so happened that I didn't even want to drink during dinner. I actually enjoyed the tremors and nervousness and insecurities I felt. From there, it just seemed like I could do anything, take chances, risk myself, be adventurous and didn't need booze to steel me or loosen me. /Sidebar

So, here I was totally sober, 10am in the morning, bright sunlight outside, a guy getting half-nekkid in my apartment. And I just felt like something was missing or something wasn't quite right. It wasn't that I needed a gin & tonic to get that cock in my mouth. It wasn't that I needed to get out of my apartment and into a hotel room. I think what I really needed to do was make it night. Make it dark. There's something so unsexy about fucking under florescent lights, sucking under a spotlight, and having all the light in the world shine down on a new body, a new crotch, a new set of legs. And me feeling hesitant makes me feel less bold which makes me feel less courageous which makes me feel self-conscious which makes me perform less intensely which makes me feel like the whole date just blows.

I fought this feeling though. And after spending about a month's worth of time watching porny videos sent by Roger Traveller focused on girls giving blowjobs, girls giving handjobs, girls facing away as they rode guys' cocks, girls getting their asses filled with cock. I knew what to do and how to blow his mind.

I shut my eyes and pretended that the birds were silent, that my music was cooing, that he couldn't see every little blemish on my back, and I proceeded to give a blowjob he wouldn't ever forget or ever be able to match with one of his glossed over porny girls. His hard cock laying on his belly, I went down covered by my hair. From the base of his cock, open-mouthed, tongue sliding up slowly like a snail. Fat, round licks on his head, my mouth a natural cave of glistening wetness. A few pointed flicks just under the head around the sensitive cap. A perfected no-hands quick suction-up of his head into my flush lips. Cradling just the helmet between my wet lips, a slow inching downward, a gentle pull upward, moistening and wetting each inch as I dropped lower, lower, lower. Sucking so hard as to pull my cheeks in as if drawing the life out of him. Tightening my mouth closer around him, and slowly, slowly back up. I pulled up, opening my mouth, allowing that lovely walking bridge of saliva to dazzle between me and his body, wrapped my right hand just under the curve of his head, and covered it again with my mouth. My hand holding him at attention, my mouth was free to release a wide open smile with my tongue again lapping in fat strokes at his head and down, underneath his shaft and up, again pointing my tongue just a bit, like licking up the center of an ice cream bar.

I wrapped my hand around tighter and started pushing all the way down the shaft to stretch his sensitivity followed by my wet mouth sliding down, and he stopped me. "I don't want to come yet." He pulled me up to him and kissed me. It always surprises me when men want to kiss their own taste and it surprises me more when men I don't expect to want this, do. He told me to get a condom - something I'm running a bit short on in Chez Lola - and I balked, "You didn't bring your own?" Secretly, I wasn't sure if he'd want me whipping out the Magnums [leftover from James]. "I don't know what size you are or what you'd like!" He told me to reach into his bag o' goodies [a mini Rubbermaid container - hrm]. I'm also not the one to usually put the condom on either, but this doesn't mean I don't have excellent training in how to do so.

I started wondering if maybe his naivete about dom/sub interactions led his mind to think that he'd get a sex slave out of the deal and not have to work much at all on this adventure. Maybe it wasn't just that it was bright as hell daylight outside. Maybe there were things starting to rub me the wrong way. Or, maybe it was me entering total PMS zone. I pushed through it nonetheless.

I turned around and eased myself back onto his cock - again, something I rarely do and never do as the first act [I'm not very coordinated or strong legged for on top] and haven't done the backwards rodeo in years. Luckily, I was wearing a skirt when he came over and luckily, I kept the boots on. Boots on the floor for bracing is the best way to do this. If he could have laid down on the carpet it might have even been better at least until my thighs gave out.

I bounced, I contracted, I slid slowly, I turned my face to him and spied from between my arms, I spied around my shoulder, I used my arms and my legs, I pulled my legs together between his, I put my legs around the outside of his and then I came in sweat and panting and exhaustion. I turned around and laid my head on his chest. He put himself back in me and slowly, slow, slow, slowly pulled out and pushed in. At every inward push I could feel ripples, tiny ripples, little soundwaves emanating from my pussy all the way to my head and toes. Each time he pushed back in I mewed. And each time I mewed he wanted to hear it again. Another tinygirl sigh squeak. And the more he wanted to hear me the more I wanted to feel him. The faster and harder I wanted to feel him. The faster he moved himself into me and the harder he pulled me over him, the closer I got to exploding a mini-fireball born from glowing waves and tired tides.

Somehow I was down between his legs again using my hand to twist up and push down and my mouth wasn't far behind. I didn't want his cum just then and so I let it erupt below my eyelashes, shooting up to my shoulder and arm, landing on his belly. A mini geyser.

We cleaned up and went for Laotian. I felt like I was driving the date and I didn't like that very much. We had decent conversation over lunch. I learned about his 6 month travels in the East. I'm not sure how much he learned about me.

We came back to my apartment and he asked if I wanted to try on the suit now. Sure! I'd never worn a fishnet bodysuit. The busty blonde on the cover definitely pointed out the attributes I would not be featuring in my modeling of it. But she wasn't snickering at me. I think the crotchless part was probably the least flattering of the whole get up. It could stand to be slightly less huge and obvious. But I liked the feeling of being a mermaid trapped in netting. It's a bit of bondage of its own. Not tight, not snug. Just a light decoration holding me. [no, sorry, no pictures of this]

I sat next to him on the couch in front of his laptop. This was one of his fantasies. He has a ton - I mean ton - of porn and I was kind of interested in watching it with someone. I've never really done much of that at all. [Maybe because I do fine making it on my own?] He told me to just pick. It was hard because porny clips are never named "Beth_cocksuck_assfuck_a_bit_of_goth_and_a_castle" or "Mary_beach_2_guys_collar_cocksucking_double_pene" or "Total_gaping_assholes_get_filled_and_stretched." Most of them are all of these undecipherable names like "x9ue8239-karri-cum23490" or "erika_fuck_2_t987d." So I had to just click and try. A lot of them are assfucking and that just made me feel bad and made bumstar want to cry. Finally I clicked on something about a girl kind of dressed in punk rock slutty wear with a collar and leash, 2 super cheesy slick-back hair guys on a couch in a beach house and something about her getting both cocks. It was good enough to continue watching. I liked how she was somewhat degraded, being pulled from one cock to another. I played with myself just to see if I could get it up. I sucked on him just to see if I could get him up. As we neared the end of the film he stood up and went around behind me. "Get on your hands and knees, Lola." It didn't take long for him to come.

We mumbled and thanked each other and he said he had to go. [rolling my eyes - as if I'd want anything beside that?] I got my night to myself. Slight let down. I wasn't really feeling his kink. Over the past days he's emailed me all kinds of naughty words and nasty ideas. I kind of ignored them but decided to tell the truth. I just wasn't sure that our kinks were matching up. We need to have another date to see what's the what with it all. I don't want to write him off completely just because he's a vanilla coming out of his shell and he does have many kinky ideas.

Friday I stayed on my own in my own world. I received instructions from SirMax for our playdate on Saturday. Nothing too serious, but serious enough:
"Beautiful girl,

There are a number of things that I want to be sure to get done tomorrow. I will do what of them that I can before noon but I won't have time to get it all done then. I will have to do some of it after my walk with James.**

Therefore I will come by to pick you up at 6:00pm. This time, however, I want you to have already eaten. I also want the following:

1. E-mail me a list of foods that you enjoy snacking on so that I can have some of them in the house.

2. Bring a toothbrush and clean undies just in case. I am planning and expecting to take you home, but this gives us options. Just in case.

3. Bring music that you think might suit tomorrow evening.

4. Wear similar undies, or, if you've had the chance to do laundry, the same will serve just fine.

5. Check your e-mail sometime between 5 and 6:00pm tomorrow should I have additional directions.

I trust that if my sweet girl needs more specifics that she'll let me know.

Tomorrow, lovely one."

**James did go for a walk with SirMax. Interestingly, they talked about everything but kink.

You can see the end result of Saturday's playtime with SirMax in the Flickr photos. I'll have to spend some time at another time writing about it. It was quite the mind trip for me. And, very very much the body trip. I don't know that I've ever been that bruisey. I do think that some of the pics make it look like I've been visiting a Russian prison.

I might have to interject the retelling of the last week of December to skip to this week and weekend. Andy stopped by on Wednesday night and god, that was delicious and new and bumstar got a nice, slow, gentle treat. This past Saturday James and I went to the gym together and man, we laugh a lot. Then, this afternoon I visited SirMax again. I never figured that I'd become a spank-o or flagellation whore. I never, ever thought I'd let someone use a violet wand on me. I've never cried out orgasming, "Oh, Daddy! I want to be a big girl!" [don't laugh - well, okay, laugh - I guess you had to be there.] I've never kneeled naked in front of another man's girlfriend/slave/lover/partner, a woman I just met 2 hours earlier, as I stank of sex and was covered in the after-effects of a good ol' beating. I guess the theme for 2007 so far is: adventure, dare to go where Lola has not gone before.

Life is not a journey to the grave
with the intention to arrive safely in a
pretty and well-preserved body,
but rather to skid in broadside,
thoroughly used up,
totally worn out,
and loudly proclaiming,
Wow!! What a ride!


The human body has limitations.
The human spirit is boundless.

[1st part: a running buddy of Dean Karnazes
2nd part: Dean Karnazes]