This year Saint Valentine was a good to me and it was quite unexpected. How could I resist a sweet and charming cock with an suprise offering of a Valentine and chocolate? I couldn’t.

I dreamt about you. I hate when I dream about you, it reminds me I still love you.

At one point the need for his cum to fill me up was so great that I begged for it. It is some sort of sick game my body and mind play with each other. The mind knowing I cannot be filled with the potentiality that cum can bring–my body crying out for it literally. Crying and begging for him to fill me with his cum. The motion of his head shaking “no” in the dark made me cry harder. This need for cum was so strong in this moment of being fucked and still being asleep–woke up by cock, my pussy opening wide, the tip of your cock hitting my cervix, hurting, yet so good at the same time. Middle of the night sex is often my most vulnerable and freeing of moments.

The industry of librarianship is overrun with females.

So– he, was easy to spot.

I can tell, or shall I say- smell- a Northern Cali guy from a mile away. And– that is just what I needed.  A good ol’ stoner boy to make this work conference far less boring than it had become.

My cock dry spell has finally been broken! Cue in angels singing and sun shards filtering down through my cum filled locks of hair.

I didn’t know I had a new neighbor until I broke my leg and had to hobble down the stairs to the laundry room.

There he was– older maybe, salt pepper and big full lips (that instantly made me think about them kissing), and obviously still quite fit under those jeans and baggy hoodie. He raced up the stairs to come to my aid. He had my laundry bag at the washer, before I even made it down the stairs. What a nice guy.

Fucking around in a cars always makes me feel younger than I am. I think I missed out on some quality time with cock parked in cars when I was young, so that now anytime the opportunity comes along, well I’m all for it!

The mountain boy was in the city for a meeting– which meant I got to have some long awaited meat for lunch.

Despite the sadness and death in our air, I was on a role with the patrons (or patients as we sometimes call them). Then he  walked in. From my vantage behind the reference desk I could feel him sizing me up. Glancing up, I see his eyes looking me up and down– fidgeting his library card in hand.

I am now going on 3  long weeks of no cock, and that will just not do. The first two weeks were merely wallowing in the rejection and loss of love and fuck with Easter candy, weed and scotch. Followed by week of self deprecation from all Easter candy, weed and Scotch– now here I am day dreaming about cock, I am taking  it as a good sign.

Ok, so I have been hiding up in a Brooklyn tower, getting bonked all day, eating fine breads, cheeses, delicious salted greasy pork products, and a steady bottle of wine a day—vacation is good. Though traveling often seems to allow a bit of melancholia into my system. The goodbyes, the returns, large amounts of people on their way to other places– other places that I make up in my mind as I encounter each person. The smile on their faces, the tears welling in their eyes. The long and lost looks of weary travel shows in the creases of their faces.

Sometimes I like to give nice long massages– there is something about him that makes me want to be sweet and almost serving. I have very strong hands too. It starts with my fingers dipping in the coconut oil– getting it warm and liquefied, strong legs, hands, arms– limbs pulled in four separate ways. His cock, balls and ass all getting glossy from the oil my hands strokes across his naked skin. I love the way his hair feels under my fingertips.

Leaning over the desk with my bottom jutting out, panties skewed around my ass and thighs, still doing a slow grind for my cohort behind me with his dick kind of bouncing around me. As I continued my lean over the desktop I thought about a change of pace, just for the moment at least. We need a dick dancing thumping, a change from the Marvin Pontiac we had just listened to and fucked to– in various situations, positions, bend me over, slow spank me, and smash my face into pillow postures played out to the backdrop of bluesy strange humored slow cries of pain in love that Pontiac belts out.

We smoked a little weed, got a little too high at first, but with a bit of music and a bit of stroking and touching I began to come down and enjoy myself. Being able to enjoy the cock that was hardening between my ass cheeks as I did a slow bump and grind move.

Technology how I love thee- and with love comes my hate for thee.

I live in this two (three, four..) realmed world of computer life and real life– we all do– nothing big there. But in my search to explore my sexuality, computer technology has had a big impact. My longest sexiest relationship lately- has been with a man I’ve never met- I will not say “never will,” because you know I’m a hopeful girl– but I love what it is– 100% electronic relationship. The expectations are defined by our hard drives and my wired electric little clit.

I waited for you to discover the jewel hidden between my cheeks- laying across your lap my ass swaying to tease you, my tits gazing your lap as your hands begin their examination of my panties, my ass, and my hidden treasure.

You all know how I like to play sexual risk sometimes– playing in public, stalker role play, blow jobs in cars, on trains, in alleys, camping…

It is hard to believe it has been a year– every morning, afternoon and evening still poses the same sadness and loss– and none of us are okay- we remain in a collective sadness, but– we remain. Joy slips in and we have to take when we can- knowing the lows can only follow.

Who loves getting felt up on park benches?

I do, I do!

Such slutty behavior–I’m quite sure it was all that cock fever driving me slutty crazy, my mouth a magnet to his cock.

I’ve  had a weekend of cock fever.

Saturday I went for a brief few hours to the Masturbate-A-Thon (strictly as a representative of the CSC).  While masturbation is certainly a pleasure I partake in often– masturbating in front of a group of people is not something I would say I am into. For an hour or so,  I stood on the outs, looking in– a giant room of men, there was a serious lack of women– or they were just all in the Women’s only area– but when a friend of mine arrived I joined him in the main room.

I really wasn’t expecting anything other than dinner with a long time email correspondant from the East Coast. I knew we had a lot in common– music, film, art..sex- but I have those things in a common with a lot of people.