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2001-08-03 / 1:26 p.m. ~This one's about sex~ (I wrote this at work, this morning) I just ran into the cute boy, the temp. Oh wow, face to face with the object of my desire. And it had to be now, as I am in this mood, this intense fuck-me-now kind of mood. I have this smile on my face, I feel sexy, like I could get any man I wanted. It feels good, but it's also horrible because there is no fulfillment. It's simply fantasy, all fantasy. I was reading about Bathsheba's hair in her diary last night, and today I'm thinking my hair looks damned good. It's getting really long, and it's got this real cool curly thing going, and it makes me think of all the African American women here at work who've looked at it, my hair, and asked, "Have you ever considered straightening your hair?", and I want to say a big and loud FUCK YOU, I have great naturally curly hair. After I wash it I comb it and let it dry, and it forms these really cool ringlets sometimes, all on its own. It looks different every day. Today, it looks fab. Right, so here's the thing, despite all our advancements as a species, despite all the technological achievements, we are still animals. This is evident on a daily basis, as all our motivations stem from biological urges. True. Oh yeah, it's documented, I'm not alone on this. Today, for me, I believe it's my own fertility. I believe that I am naturally desirous of sexual activity, i.e. "horny", when I am at the most fertile stage of my cycle. Sort of like this, if I were to have unprotected sex right now, and Jesus God I'd love to!!!!, well, my belief is that I just might succeed in having an egg fertilized. I'm not 100% on this, but it's my theory. And it makes perfect sense, to me. I'm not saying I want to fertilize my egg, but it's a biological, and wholly subconscious effort on the part of my physical being. To pass along my genetic material. I am still, even at this late date in my childbearing years, not at all certain I want to pass along my genetic material, but I might decide to at some point, probably not today. Although�..it's only 10:30 a.m. I have this great sound byte from some Monty Python web site, well, I have several from there, but the one says, "Sex, sex, sex, it's all you ever think about!" and I don't know what movie it's from, but if it's not the case today! Okay, every day. I'm dying to be with a man, I can see it, I know just what I want to do, I just don't know who yet. Last night I was thinking about Nelson, because I wrote about him in my diary, I finally mentioned him here. One year ago we were heavily ensconced in a phone sexual relationship. It was intense, and it was oddly satisfying. We met on ICQ, immediately graduated to the telephone, then he called me, always late at night ("booty call") maybe once a week. Sometimes more. Sometimes I called him. We'd talk a long time, about everything and anything, argue about politics, etc., then we'd move into it, and on occasion I'd get out my little clitoral stimulator (oh, run get one now!) if I couldn't come on my own (and I usually can't on the phone, someone listening to me) and have at least one delicious orgasm, because he wanted to hear me come. He ached to hear me come, he practically begged, and that was delicious as well. Nelson is a New Yorker, by way of El Salvador. His accent is a mixture of both, and his command of the English language is good, but sometimes he'd speak Spanish to me - I wouldn't know what he was saying, just would catch bits and pieces, but it was so fucking sexy. There were times when I wanted him, really, in reality, not just on the phone, so badly it hurt. I would be overcome with emotion, with desire. So we planned a visit, as so many cyber/phone lovers do, and it was his idea. He would come here, stay with me, for Labor Day. I had extra days off, vacation time, and it was gonna be so good! I was so nervous, what if I didn't like him physically? I'd only seen one picture and it's never the same as being right there with him. What if he didn't like me? Oh, but we'd get past that, we'd be good, we just knew it, it was going to be great��I couldn't wait, so nervous, so excited. I still have the list of things I planned for us to do, touristy things, me showing him the city I know so well. I can't bring myself to throw it away. He canceled on me. I was devastated. It was never the same after that. I knew too much about Scorpios, their secretiveness, their deception, and I couldn't trust him, stopped believing him. It was awful. We were through. I had too much anger to enjoy our sex. I'd come when I wanted to, not when he wanted it. He couldn't control me any longer. We lasted months though, really, all last summer, and through the fall, so many phone calls, so many late nights holding the phone in one hand, and a breast, a hip, a sex toy, or just my own delighted vulva, in the other. I blasted him in an article for Themestream, then sent him the url in anger. How mean. I hated him. Now, I wish I could pick up the phone and say, "Eat me, you know you want to, you know you want to bury your face between my legs and stay there until I force you to stop.", but I can't. I feel really close to finding someone else - waiting any longer than necessary is going to kill me. Cost of the War in Iraq
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