I have issues with biting. By that I mean that I have had experiences with biting that have caused me to not like it. The first time I was bitten was in some sort of wierd street fight when I was 11. My neighbor, who was a year younger than me and who both realisticly and ironically refered to himself as a 'full-blooded Navajo', made some Aryan-ass comment about my adopted sister's dark skin. When I called him out on it (read: punched him in the gut), his response was to bite me. Hard. Hard enough to draw blood. That earned him another stomache-shot, because I still had not gotten over the false-honour that ya just don't kick a guy in the nuts. You didn't bite, either.
Fast forward through time and we add some crazy, bloody finger-biting when I was a street-performing "Living Statue" ('just to see if I would move') and the 6-month period that I couldn't feel the left half of my face because a drunken, rough-sex loving friend of mine severed a nerve in my neck. No joke. Six months. And that was with reflexology.
Eight months ago, a dear DEAR loved one got married in a Dr. Suess themed wedding. Standing in front of the 7' by 20' mural I painted for the occasion, her mother... And let me say it again: Her MOTHER, the mother of the bride, bit my nipple pretty fucking hard. I was asking for it, though. I WAS wearing red.
That was the last straw.
So, now I have a strict "Watch the Teeth" rule. It's not a ban on biting in general, but it does say "I am watching this and I reserve to put the kaibash on it if it gets out of hand."
Last night, I had to enforce it.
Ashley and I had our first date on Tuesday. It was perfect. Japanese food, a couple of hours of coffee at a suitably quirky cafe, and a first kiss in the parking lot before we headed off for the hour drive that each of us had to make in opposite directions. She waited as her bad-ass robot van from the future unfolded it's ramp, like she was about to embark on a 9 light-year journey to her home planet and I'd never see her again. The kiss was sweet, nervous, hungry and demanding all at the same time and it left me in the heavens I pictured her blasting off to.
On Wednesday she invited me, via cheeky text-message banter, to her place for the night. Although shocked and lustfully short of breath, I had plans already with a birthday-boy friend and we settled on a raincheck for last-night. (After the bar-hopping, karaoke and the downing of much "Cheap-Ass Whiskey, thank-you-very-much, Barmistress", I was pulled over ON MY BICYCLE for not having a light on the back fender.)
Tomorrow came, we had the obligatory dinner with dad and his new girlfriend (which was excellent and loose and not scary at all, mostly) , the tour of her fully-accessible house and I met her little chihuahua, MacKenzie, who is actually the only chihuahua I HAVEN'T wanted to smother with a pillow. Then, I got to do something I have never done before:
I carried a Lover to bed.
Just because it was a necessity did not make it less beautiful. I lifted her from her chair, laid her down on black-satin sheets, and read to her the haunting "The Music of Erich Zann" by Lovecraft. As the clock slid to midnite on the 23rd of March, we made love. Exactly 10 months after the last time I felt passion freely, I was moving inside a gorgeous woman. At about the same time (although I wouldn't know it then) I was being left a message from that same darling ex in New Orleans. Responding to my blog about the pain of choosing or not choosing NoLa, she gave me her blessing to follow my bliss. She would love me regardless. That would already be more than my fair share of blessings in one day.
Ashley has a wheelchair because of Muscular Dystrophy. Her body is a little slighter, her spine a little less straight, her legs a lot less functional (On the 'walking' front. From the 'being sexy' angle, they manage juuuuuuust fine. Oh, yes, indeed.). I cannot honestly say that these things did not make a difference during those hours, especially as we were exploring each other for the very first time. But, neither can I use any other word than 'different'. Every single body is so, but hers was enough that I had to let go of any assumptions and simply be. We had to be there, focused, 100%. We even laughed out loud (as I hoped we would) when she said, "Look, baby, I'm going to have to get my ankles around your back and I can't do it myself, so grab a foot.."
But, she's a biter. Luckily she's a scratcher, too. I told her she could go as deep as she wanted with the nails, draw blood, all is well, but no biting. She growled in frustration at her recently chewed fingernails, but she took it like a champ. Relationships are all about compromise.
Besides, I think we are going out next week and five days should be enough time for the new growth to satisfy everyone.
Love,
jdm
Fast forward through time and we add some crazy, bloody finger-biting when I was a street-performing "Living Statue" ('just to see if I would move') and the 6-month period that I couldn't feel the left half of my face because a drunken, rough-sex loving friend of mine severed a nerve in my neck. No joke. Six months. And that was with reflexology.
Eight months ago, a dear DEAR loved one got married in a Dr. Suess themed wedding. Standing in front of the 7' by 20' mural I painted for the occasion, her mother... And let me say it again: Her MOTHER, the mother of the bride, bit my nipple pretty fucking hard. I was asking for it, though. I WAS wearing red.
That was the last straw.
So, now I have a strict "Watch the Teeth" rule. It's not a ban on biting in general, but it does say "I am watching this and I reserve to put the kaibash on it if it gets out of hand."
Last night, I had to enforce it.
Ashley and I had our first date on Tuesday. It was perfect. Japanese food, a couple of hours of coffee at a suitably quirky cafe, and a first kiss in the parking lot before we headed off for the hour drive that each of us had to make in opposite directions. She waited as her bad-ass robot van from the future unfolded it's ramp, like she was about to embark on a 9 light-year journey to her home planet and I'd never see her again. The kiss was sweet, nervous, hungry and demanding all at the same time and it left me in the heavens I pictured her blasting off to.
On Wednesday she invited me, via cheeky text-message banter, to her place for the night. Although shocked and lustfully short of breath, I had plans already with a birthday-boy friend and we settled on a raincheck for last-night. (After the bar-hopping, karaoke and the downing of much "Cheap-Ass Whiskey, thank-you-very-much, Barmistress", I was pulled over ON MY BICYCLE for not having a light on the back fender.)
Tomorrow came, we had the obligatory dinner with dad and his new girlfriend (which was excellent and loose and not scary at all, mostly) , the tour of her fully-accessible house and I met her little chihuahua, MacKenzie, who is actually the only chihuahua I HAVEN'T wanted to smother with a pillow. Then, I got to do something I have never done before:
I carried a Lover to bed.
Just because it was a necessity did not make it less beautiful. I lifted her from her chair, laid her down on black-satin sheets, and read to her the haunting "The Music of Erich Zann" by Lovecraft. As the clock slid to midnite on the 23rd of March, we made love. Exactly 10 months after the last time I felt passion freely, I was moving inside a gorgeous woman. At about the same time (although I wouldn't know it then) I was being left a message from that same darling ex in New Orleans. Responding to my blog about the pain of choosing or not choosing NoLa, she gave me her blessing to follow my bliss. She would love me regardless. That would already be more than my fair share of blessings in one day.
Ashley has a wheelchair because of Muscular Dystrophy. Her body is a little slighter, her spine a little less straight, her legs a lot less functional (On the 'walking' front. From the 'being sexy' angle, they manage juuuuuuust fine. Oh, yes, indeed.). I cannot honestly say that these things did not make a difference during those hours, especially as we were exploring each other for the very first time. But, neither can I use any other word than 'different'. Every single body is so, but hers was enough that I had to let go of any assumptions and simply be. We had to be there, focused, 100%. We even laughed out loud (as I hoped we would) when she said, "Look, baby, I'm going to have to get my ankles around your back and I can't do it myself, so grab a foot.."
But, she's a biter. Luckily she's a scratcher, too. I told her she could go as deep as she wanted with the nails, draw blood, all is well, but no biting. She growled in frustration at her recently chewed fingernails, but she took it like a champ. Relationships are all about compromise.
Besides, I think we are going out next week and five days should be enough time for the new growth to satisfy everyone.
Love,
jdm
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i would love to trade addresses =) but you might find my student hovel a little...hovel-like =) its a roof over my head though so i'm not complaining =p
and yes...i do love the usa...hopefully if everything works out in the next few years i will be moving over there to find work and live for a year at least if not longer =)
have fun sweetie and i hope to hear good tidings from you soon <3 xxx