santianna

Well Laid

I am definitely not well rested, but certainly very well laid. Which is fine by me. Very fine. And very healthy.

Richard must be the only person Ive slept with in the last 2 years that would make sense going out with. Mostly because I like him a great deal (yeah its only been 2 days, but youve no idea how fantastic its been). Its kinda strange, but this really is something that could make sense. Im not going to bother to think about whats going to happen one month from now, and I dont think that really matters. But its actually the healthiest relationship Ive had this year. That the sex is so mind-blowing aside, I like him a great deal, and he likes me back. Which I would suppose is always a good thing.

I was contemplating between finishing my painting and dropping by his place last night, although I was sure I would have been too sore for anything more than a cuddle. Texted him, but he didnt reply, and I didnt want to call Its always weird at first, everyones trying to behave as cool as possible. Its almost like a pre-requisite, and in some ways I guess this sort of behaviour has its merits-) He eventually did though, and Id pretty much finished what I needed to do with the painting (Its called Drip Garden loosely based on a composition I wrote when I was 15, about a park where drug addicts went to for an overdose and then euphoric death).

I asked him what he would normally be doing if cute, barely legal girls werent coming round for a shag.

Masturbate to porn and then to bed.

Oh lovely. Then its not like Im distracting you from saving orphans in Cambodia or writing the next Man-Booker.

He told me hed been sitting on the couch earlier with a massive errection thinking about fucking and contemplating calling me over. But hed decided against it, for reasons I suppose like wanting to play it cool. Like I said, there are virtues in that, but sometimes, somethings are worth compromising for.

At one point in time I agreed with him that he was a pervert. And he hit me back and said I wasnt any better. Its the first time someone actually actively called me a pervert, and after a few seconds of thought, I couldnt disagree. My death fantasy is after all to get my mouth blown off while riding my kidnapper. Or giving a blowjob to a trucker driving a Shell oil tanker down the autobahn in the wrong direction, in perfect collision course with another such similar vehicle.

Christ. Hes so edgy I love it.

Im not insane-crazy about him like I was over Martine, but that was completely unhealthy for me anyway, and it did take me awhile to realize the fact. Theres absolutely no need to rationalize how another individual feels.

I mean, how the fuck do you rationalize, I enjoy hanging out with you, youre a great shag, and when youre into me, you make me feel damn good about myself.

I dont expect much in my men. As long as theyre interesting, stimulate me in every possible way, and viscerally attractive. Oh, and they shouldnt be broke.

Oh, and that I should know Im someone they can be crazy for.

xoxox