Is this you?

I've been thinking in recent days about the past three-and-a-half years and the people - male persons, in particular - that I've met online. Some have been just simply amazing men who I still talk to, laugh with, cry with and enjoy. Other men are also great guys, but perhaps we don't speak anymore like we used to, though we would if we had the chance. Some of those guys showed themselves to be flaming pricks - mentally unbalanced, jealous, possessive, demanding - just generally high drama.

I thought about Jeff, one of those I still talk to, and all that our friendship has endured over the past 3+ years, not the least of which was his tour of duty in Iraq. If it can withstand that, it can withstand anything! Then there's Jim, arguably my best friend in the world. He deserves his own post, all to himself.

I thought about Psycho Ex (aka, "He who shall remain nameless") - speaking of mentally unbalanced, jealous, possessive AND demanding - and how he's done every substance known to man and is proud of it! If it can be snorted, injected, smoked, ingested, inhaled, whatever, he has. Might explain a lot. Over against him is Jimmy, who's hung out with some of the biggest names in classic rock history - Santana, Grand Funk Railroad, among others - yet has never even smoked a cigarette. That's character, right there.

I thought about how each guy handles a fight or me in a hormonal mood swing or doing an admirable immitation of a stressed out bitch. From the low-drama set:

"I wish you'd trust that I'm NOT breaking up with you just because we're having a fight."
"OK, so you want to vent. Go ahead." (I strongly suspect this one was watching a Braves game while I was ranting.)
"I hate fighting by IM. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

Then there's the high-drama group:

"Apology NOT accepted!"
"We're through!" "No, I want you back." "We're through." "I want you back." (I broke that pattern by agreeing we were through and there'd be no going back.)

I'm being nice and not mentioning names here, but if you're reading this and you're one of the guys, chances are you can pick yourself out. The second one above in the high-drama group is the psychotic one. Actually, he wouldn't be clinically psychotic - more like clinically borderline personality disorder. Think Glenn Close's character from Fatal Attraction. Yep, he has serious bunny-boiler tendencies.

The other high-drama one is really just a grossly overweight, middle-aged, balding, perverted drama queen who has no idea what he wants. The one opportunity we had a few years ago to meet, he cancelled at the last minute because his momma needed him. In fact, he has lived his entire life in the same town. I know people do that, but most people at least go away to college or join the military for a while. He's the type who'll tell ya he loves you one minute, then two days later will be pissy because you're demonstrating... uh oh... no, it CAN'T be... that you're *gasp* human! His life is nothing but a fantasy world, and he expected the same from me. Sorry, babe, but after the fantasy's worn off, there's nothing left but the reality, which Jeff, Jim, Jimmy and a whole slew of others will tell ya is MUCH better!

Writing, Writing and more Writing

Patience, patience... I haven't gotten anything new finished this week, but I'm working on it. I have an email writing buddy and we shoot emails back and forth containing segments of a story we're messing with. I've spent time, too, on Mike's Enlightenment (Ch. 2), a sizzling hot BDSM story to follow one I wrote last winter. That one will have my brother-in-law with a cameo role as someone's "pet," which I can't wait to write! If you're reading this and you know anything at all about my brother-in-law, then you'll understand why I'm looking forward to making him a submissive. >:) Bwahahahaha!

In addition to these writing endeavors, I'm also working on a story that I'd started a couple of months ago. That one I ended up scrapping, because, while I had all the sex scenes worked out, the beginning was puny and weak. So, I trashed the beginning and went after the story again, and now I've got the beginnings of a hot sex scene and a story that's going to really roll.

Bleeding Out a Story

In all honesty, writing and finishing a story truly isn't as bad as a slow bleed-out that drains the life force ounce by precious ounce. While I enjoy the process of writing, I also find immense satisfaction in having a story finished. I can close it out, content that it's the best it's going to be (after I red-pen it in the proofreading and editing process).

I finished a Jimmy/Arane story last night, and I'd like to think that this one is one of my best ones in this series. But, then again, I say that about all of them, though the critics and reviewers tend not to agree so much. This story's HOT! In fact, it's the first story I've written in a long time that's turned me on. That's all I can leave you with for now. My personal policy is, I don't post any story publicly before the "hero" has at least had the opportunity to read it.

So, now what? Well, first of all, I'm going to indulge my absolutely girly self and paint my nails. I just found an out-fucking-standing sale on China Glaze polish at Sally's and treated myself to a dazzling Red Pearl polish. Then, perhaps while my toenails are drying, I'll work on one of the other two stories I have in queue. One's been sitting dormant for nearly a year now, and the other... Well, I've got pretty much all the sex scenes worked out in my mind, but I'm considering scrapping the beginning. It feels weak to me, not at all something that would grab a reader. More later, dear readers. Girly arts are calling. :-)

Research, Research, Research

As an intrepid writer of erotica, I can appreciate the value of research. In addition to being well-written, I'm also an avid reader, and there's nothing that annoys me more than reading a book or story that's obviously poorly researched. Of course, the research for erotica is nothing if not highly enjoyable. My first published story, "Home for the Holidays," includes a scene in which I finger my lover's bum while giving him a blow job. Yet, I didn't actually do that to a guy until 20 months after that story was published. Incidentally, my real life guy enjoyed the experience considerably more than my fantasy guy; I think it would've killed a lesser man.

I'm currently working on a story, and the bulk of the story will have the female wearing a butt plug as she works as part of an anal training exercise. I'm not going into more detail than that. Well, I've done some anal play and there's a line of guys who'd happily take my ass virginity, but I haven't committed. Anyway, I wondered, would I truly be able to endure having a plug up my ass for hours at a time? Only one way to find out, so...

I made it over 3 1/2 hours (and this isn't no tiny plug, either, though it's far from the largest on the market). I got a lot of work done with it in, and after a while, I sort of forgot it was there. Even an orgasm, which usually makes it super tight and uncomfortable, wasn't bad. Well, of course the orgasm wasn't bad (is there such a thing as a bad O?), but the aftermath wasn't bad at all. One friend asked how I kept it in. Apparently, my butt muscles were working especially well today. That, and I had a thong on, which helped it stay in place.

When I have time to write some more on that story, I know that (1) it is possible to get stuff done while wearing a plug, and (2) it feels really damn good! A couple of other observations... From the moment I stuck it in, my nipples went extremely hard, puckering up as tight as I've ever seen them (like cold shower tight); and I stayed wet the entire time, which was erotic as hell. Now to find that one guy who can enjoy pleasuring all my holes...

Hoo boy!

I look back at what I've written and can't help but think, What the hell was all that clap-trap about my younger man??? We didn't talk again after he returned home, which was fine. It was really telling to me that my favorite part of the whole week was dropping him off at the airport (in the wet and cold), then going back home to crawl in between the nice warm sheets and falling back to sleep.

Don't get me wrong. He's a nice guy and quite attractive, but I guess I just prefer poets and writers to fighters. I prefer my guys to show me they have souls. It's a little thing. Give me a good intellectual discussion on politics, religion, the economy or life in general. Share with me what's going on in your world and listen as I share mine with you. Show me your heart, and thank you for fostering an atmosphere that lets me trust you enough to show you mine.

A kiss (soft kisses, hard I-need-you-now kisses, brief kisses hello, kisses that go on forever, or all of the above), a compliment, a sexy voice (whether deep and Southern or deep and Northern), humor that still makes me laugh when I think of it three years later (flatulent warthog from the Dark Side) and humor from more recently ($20 words and a wildly fun piano bar). And a good ol' boy's ability to shoot a gun, with the soul that'd hurt if he had to hurt or kill someone in doing his duty.

It's nice to know that some things simply will never change. There's a whole list of things that fall into this category, but right now I'm thinking of the stubborn love of a dear man - or would that be the friendly love of a dear, stubborn man? Either way, even though there have been no claims of eternity or forever, I know I'll have his love and friendship for the rest of our lives. I'm glad he and I have never hooked up romantically; his friendship is way too important.