Monthly Archives: August 2008

New Horizons

Well, I’ve been working on this new project for a few days now. It seems like there are so many NYC sex bloggers and in looking around for them I realized there is no real list of them, so I am making one. Thus nycsexblogs.com was born.

I’m pretty excited about the whole thing, if for no other reason than I think I made it look pretty. Plus I get to make lists, which is always a nice thing. Also it will help in people meeting people and all of us NY people getting even cozier.

Speaking of which, I think I am going to In the Flesh @ Happy Endings tomorrow. Having just listened to Rachel Kramer Bussel‘s interview on Bedroom Radio and having just finished three stories in RKB’s anthology Tasting Her: Oral Sex Stories, I am very curious to hear what will be read. Plus I’m sure there will be all sorts of interesting people in the audience.

As for stories on this webpage, Mister McIntyre Eight is almost done. I had to figure out where to go from the last part, I wanted to introduce a few new people as we take Abigail deeper into her merciless boss’s life. Plus I want to get the first scene with both Mister M and Marcy just right. Should be up soon. Plus some more stories on the way, ones that are actually being edited! (I know you will miss my charming spelling and grammar errors.)

And with that, back to work. No more link dropping for this morning.

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Secrets

I was talking with a friend the other day about secrets and how I tend to be obsessed with them. I like to know secrets, I like to be told secrets and I like to find out secrets, for better or worse. Most of my life has seen the better, though certainly the worse arrived a while back and curiosity killed the cat. Still, knowing is always better than not knowing because let’s face it even when you don’t have proof you always know.

Still secrets are always floating around in my head and they are always tickling my fascination. Looking over the things I’ve written, stories and fragments and smut and so on, I see that the common thread is people finding out things about other people. People eavesdropping or finding diaries, people following people, people spying on people, the skeletons in the closets being revealed. It is a climactic moment and it makes for a good story, I think.

The conclusion of the conversation was that the desire to learn other people’s secrets is the desire to find evidence that the things I think and the things I do are not deviant or unique. To find evidence that perversions, both sexual and emotional are not isolated. More so the feeling that my thoughts and emotions are somehow “not right” is because of my upbringing where people didn’t talk about their emotions ever, so I never got any validation that the things I felt were “normal.”

I also realize that when I am in a relationship I long for my partner to find out things about me. I have this need for my partner to dig and to investigate because if they don’t then they don’t want it enough. Love and passion should always have at least a touch of obsession.

The thought of a partner writing something or creating something and not wanting to read it seems foreign to me. Does that make sense?

I think my goal should be to write stories like secrets so that when someone reads them they are filled with the excitement of finding something out.

Anyhow, tell me some secrets. Comment anonymously. Tell me something.

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Dating Archive: The Awkward Red Head

Sometimes a chaste kiss is all you need.

At the movie your arm brushes against hers. In the dark her lingering perfume is a constant reminder of her proximity. You think about how your body is positioned and how hers is, what it all means. Is she moving closer? Are her legs positioned away? She she trying to give you a sign?

After the movie you make small talk. Funny movie! Serious movie. Scary, sweet, political. I remember this movie once… That happened to my cousin.

A bite to eat? Sure. Eyes become bolder over a table. No dark I hide behind. You can make look right into her eyes while you talk and when she looks back and your gazes linger your heart starts to pound. You can make jokes that are a little more pointed. You can flirt.

You loiter at your table after the check has came and went and the waitress is getting annoyed. Out in the street walking down a quite block, you pause. She looks at you, then down, plays with her hair. You move in and she meets you. A kiss. Center kiss, upper lip, bottom lip. Bolder, you move in. She smells like fruity body spray. She sighs onto you as she pulls away.

“We should go, it’s getting late.” one of you say.

You get to the train. She moves in now before you can. She is pulling away will half her body and pulling you in with the other half. The kiss is hungrier, sucking each lip. Open mouths for a second but then she is away.

“I should go.”

“We don’t have to. We could get a drink.” but it is half hearted. You don’t have the strength or really even the desire.

She is blushing she looks up through her bangs. She doesn’t trust herself. She had rules she can’t afford to break. You like making girls not trust themselves.

“You kiss really well.” she mumbles, again her hand in her hair, twisting and playing.

You move in but she moves back.

“I got to go, thanks. I had fun.” and then she is gone.

You smile because it is nice to just have that, just a chaste kiss in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t want any more and you probably couldn’t handle anymore. She is just a good girl and it is lovely to make a good girl blush. She knows you’re not going to be her boyfriend. She knows what one more kiss could do.

She is a lovely flower but you have roses on my mind. Oh the roses you have in mind.

Dating, Non Fiction