Random Acts of Awesome

An orgasm by any other name would smell as sweet, right? Not according to this guy I'm fucking. He found out that I'm a "squirter" (WORST. SEXUAL TERM. EVER), and now nothing will do but that he makes me ejaculate. It's become a quest for him. And it's most likely just not going to happen. We've been fucking for a couple of weeks now, I've seen him maybe 5 times, we have sex at least 4-5 times in a single night, and he has yet to make me cum like that. Don't get me wrong. I orgasm every single time with him. He's extremely talented with his tongue, his cock is the perfect size, and he uses it exactly the way I need it use to make me come to screaming, sheet clawing fulfillment. He's dominant, big enough to pick me up and position me the way he wants me, and he likes doggy. This is a recipe for sexual heaven for me. But it's apparently NOT a recipe for making me ejaculate. It's become kind of amusing for me, because he gets so stubbo

I identify as a switch. A switch is someone who, in a sexual context, is both dominant and submissive, depending on mood and context. I've had the experience to prove to myself that this is definitely who I am. And I've met quite a few people who also identify as such. But, in my experience, very few people really are. It seems to me that most people who say they're switches are actually much more one or the other, but are willing to play either side for the person they're with. This is actually kind of... annoying. Because I can sense who you are. I can tell if you're truly enjoying yourself or not. And when you're pretending to be something you're not just to "please" me, it's a total turn off. People who are really bottoms trying to play at being a top are absolutely incapable of bringing out my own sub role. And if you're actually a top, but are "bottoming" to someone, more often than not what you're doing is just topping

I really love Elizabeth Warren. I fell in love after watching an interview with her on NOW, and my infatuation has just continued to grow. She's an interesting human being into and of herself, with a great personality(you know, as far as I can tell from her public image), and a history that I can relate to. But it's her ideas, her passion, and her intensity that I really love. She's an advocate for consumer safety. That should, quite honestly, be really fucking boring. It's not just economics, it's economics and FRUGALITY ::hisssss::. She's an advocate for safe spending, for conservative(in the true sense of the word) financial measures, and for people taking responsibility for their own decisions. But most of all, she's an advocate of oversight. She's passionately commited to creating a committee that would overhaul the financial sector of our society. And she's fucking hated by most of that sector. Which says great things about her, in my opinion.

I spent a long weekend at the coast with friends, and I’m exhausted. Just completely knocked out. Too much sun, too much time spent scrambling around rocky tide pools in inappropriate shoes, too much drinking and singing and dancing. I’m going to hole up in my house for a couple of weeks and not talk to anyone. I have a very strange relationship with the ocean. I love it. I really do. It’s a source of constant beauty. No matter what angle you look at it from, no matter the weather or the time of day, it’s just incredibly beautiful. I love how the ocean defines the sky, and I love thinking about what’s over that giant, irresistible horizon. I love that sense of fulfillment you get after a day spent at the beach, the tired, sore, and lazily happy sense of a day well spent.But it also scares me shitless. I’m always aware of its vast, impersonal power, and every now and then I get a sense of a not so impersonal hunger. Waves tickling at your feet that seem so playful are just the tendrils

Female power as represented by breasts has nothing to do with sexuality and everything to do with motherhood. And in a lot of ways, it's villified. Large breasts, for me, have meant a lifetime of men and women assuming I'm either slutty or motherly. The slutty comes from modern culture, and assumes lack of power based on an inability to control ones self. The motherly comes from human instinct, and assumes a power based on nurturing and not force. They both rather suck, and I want nothing to do with either of them. Feminine power based on actual sexuality, now, is a whole nother ball o' wax. And it's often called being a whore. I rather enjoy the concept of that kind of feminine power, because it's kind of genderless. Both men and women have extraordinary power based on their sexuality, and the control of it. It's abused just as often by both sexes, which is unfortunate. But I would far rather be thought a whore because of my behavior than a slut because of my b

And god said "Let there be music". My toes tapping, my fingers snapping, and my hips swinging, I listened to the melody. Quicksilver notes flying through the air, slipping into my ears, through my brain, and out onto the next person. Did they carry little particles of me with them? Did they slip from person to person, collecting rhythm and souls? You could almost see them, almost touch them. Sparkly little bits, collected into silky ribbons. I wanted to grab them, hold onto the notes. Maybe thrust them into my heart so I could retain this sense of absolute freedom, carry it with me wherever I went. I wanted to eat them, to let this taste of crisp beauty melt on my tongue and coat my throat with viscous sound. But the notes eluded my grasping fingers. All I could do was stand there as they rushed through me, molten song melting away my sense of self. Well, maybe not just stand there. For a few moments I could let them drive me, push me into movement. Frantic, sensual, slow, fa