Checkmate–Game Over (Asexual Post).

Jealousy: Hostility toward a rival or one believed to enjoy an advantage.

I’ve always hated that word, it’s ugly and pointless, but alas, it happens to be a part of almost every persons vocabulary and there isn’t a bloody thing I can do about that, is there? No, there isn’t.

But what I can do is address the issues some maniacal, narcissistic, egotistical and I suspect psychotic person and/or persons have with that rather childish emotion in regards to myself, my blog(s) and those whom I love.

People who have a predilection for playing God annoy me, they really do. Why? Because us mere mortals always end up caught in the crossfire, shoveling shit that isn’t ours to shovel and some poor unsuspecting and blissfully innocent soul always ends up getting hurt because someone decided their ego needed a bit of a stroking. Pardon my language, but fuck that.

I sat back and watched while some asshole parodied blogs and compromised peoples real life identities because apparently their goodies just weren’t enough to fill the cookie jar and they weren’t having that shit. Well, guess what? That’s life–deal! You don’t go trying to fuck up other peoples “real” lives and chase them off the internet because you’re apparently not as good a fuck as you thought you were. You don’t own the fucking internet for fucks sake–no one does. Really, who the fuck do some people think they are? Anonymity as far as blogging goes, especially sex blogging, is a personal choice and I imagine there are a vast amount of reasons people do it. For me, it’s not a personal need to protect my identity, but more of an “it’s more mysterious” thing. If my anonymity were blown today it wouldn’t affect me one way or the other, I have nothing to hide, most, if not all, of my family and friends know that this blog exists (most have the URL) and pretty much all of them know about my relationship with Dane. But it’s not like that for everyone and for someone to take it upon themselves to start “outing” people because it feeds their God complex is disgusting.

And now, after enduring that disgusting display of narcissism, I have to sit back and watch some “anonymous” commenter go around spreading their ignorance in some childish smear campaign they’ve launched out of envy or spite or any other number of bullshit issues against ménage à trois and the women affiliated (myself included) with that blog.

Sorry, folks, not this time. I refuse to sit back and watch this time around, I’m jumping in head first and sink or swim, no more bullshit games, no more playing God and no more jealous attacks of insecurity launched our way.

You wanna play, let’s play.

Anticipation: Part II…

To softly rub my cheeks and my chin and my lips against the velvety skin of your cock. So hot and so impossibly hard. Knowing that when I do, I won’t be able to stop my hands from coming up to wrap around all that hot, hard, velvety skin. Loving you. Learning you. Knowing you.

To lightly run my fingers from base to tip, stopping to trace the tiny eye with the very tip of my finger before moving back down, transfixed by the rhythmic beat of your cock as my fingers move over your skin. Knowing that when I do, I won’t be able to stop myself from leaning into you, my tongue stretching out to trace the pattern my fingers just made.

To slide my tongue unabashedly up, down, over and around the rigid length of your cock in long wide strokes, soft feathery caresses, light teasing flicks, feeling the beat of your pulse; a steady tattoo against my tongue. Knowing that when I do, I won’t be able to stop my hand from slipping in between my own thighs to press wantonly against my aching pussy.

To take you, inch by divine inch, into my mouth until I can take no more. Filled. Completely. Joined. Intimately. Your cock blending into my mouth until it is impossible to tell where I begin and you end. Connected. Knowing that when I do, I won’t have the will to stop my own fingers from pressing deep inside myself.

To wrap my hand tightly around the base of your shaft while I continue to make love to you with my mouth, waiting, longing, needing you to come apart, to come. For me. Knowing that when you do, my own surrender of self–mind, body, soul–will begin… powerful, raw, uninhibited and pure, solidifying the bond of love and trust, lust and passion, want and need which connects us.