Bunches and bunches
Demystified Burger King
I endeavor not to set sex up as overly romanticized. My morality cares not a fig if sex is within a relationship or outside of. It's a shoulder shrugger for me since I am all about the sex and the choice, not some silly notion of romance to cover my copious needs. Why bother feeling shame when you get so much more out of throwing your back, and ah, other parts into it? My first time I wanted, nothing do with love or scented candles, I wanted a good friend who could laugh and still like me in the morning if the sex was abysmal. I am above all else a practical soul.
I have been accused of stripping meaning from sex and behaving coldly after satisfaction. For me, sex changes nothing. You don't magically metamorphosize into a relationship of mine if you were not prior. I don't use it as some tired device for trapping the other person into a deeper relationship. If you're my friend and I trust you, I'll happily enjoy a jaunt into sexy times with you and then brush it off and go eat. About the time I'm dressed again, my relationship has reverted, or rather failed to change from, its original form.
However, being too cool about it equals boredom for me and that's the death knell of wanting to get down. Tell me we need to schedule some time and then try to prompt me into it and you will find me icy. I am not a dog to take your command at a time that's most convenient to you. I am not a Burger King, if I can't get it some of my way, you'll not be getting it yours. I have no intention of sexual production on command unless I decide I am the Burger King and ask you to order up.
I do run into people who are way more matter of fact than I with sex and frankly it's a boner killer. Tell me it's a yes and wait, I will exercise my newfound privileges. But the mystery of when and how, that's not romanticism in the classical sense so much as it's an enticement and intriguing. There's little mystery about 10 past 5 sex and much about I wanted you to know I want to, if you do. There have been times there wasn't a second of lag time and times where I dallied until I felt sure and days passed. Sex with me is best served piping hot and like anyone, there are times my oven isn't fully preheated.
Enter our newest friends, Leaf and Kismet. It has been rather tame as we have had a great deal of getting to know each other. The conversation has been easy and free flowing. I am still feeling out the dynamic between them and just who's who. In every relationship there are elements of a more take charge personality and often the other partner is more retiring. It's not a chiseled in stone rule but it is oftentimes quite useful to know which is which. Also, given my background, it is quite pertinent, for both parties. I do not catch them conferring, so they seem very knowing about where the other one is and either find unnecessary or that isn't the power dynamic they share. I care primarily about the second choice. If they're fully in sync or this just isn't their first rodeo, fine, great even. If there's a power dynamic such that Leaf runs the show, well dear readers, now we have a hitch.
Certainly, they are welcome to it if they do wade into D/s, as a fellow traveler to those parts I understand the draw, no doubt. And if it stays between them, i.e. there exists no such expectation on that Mr. Curved Line nor I must become extensions and submit, then there exists no issues, really. Mr. Curved Line is a trifle trepidatious of option two, he highly values autonomy in decision making. I find that cutely quaint of him. Having been served, I lost such views of submission quite long ago.
Moreover, I feel it is the relative cooler reception we have gotten from Kismet to the both of us that makes us wonder. Not that I expected, nor wanted, some theatrically inspired performance art of woman lost to lust. I covet no such garish displays of purchasable goods. But she's a hard read when there's a dearth of customary flirtatious markers. She seems shy, but honest to g*d if I say that about one more f*cking person and they turn out to be some flip the switch J*sus Chr*st I am not old enough for this sex show person, I will scream, and not in the good way. I warm slowly, a comment here, a half smile there, a lingering touch, and an easy, flirty laugh. The classics, really. It's not as though I cannot adapt to on and off people, it's really just that I don't quite feel the same being dropped into things instead of the steadily increasing climb. I'm going to catch up, yes, of course, wasted opportunities suck. But I am on home turf when it's a slow, steady climb, a warming and thawing until the water bubbles and steams.
I am wanted for my earthy passion, which is not a switch, ladies and gentlemen, it's an experience. If you want me distracted, just short circuit the system, if you want me to smolder, well, relax, lay back and be receptive. I am worlds better when I can do my processing ahead of time and decide on a course of action. I can do it live but it feels live, distracted and awkward. I become mediocre! Argh, is there anything worse than doing a passable job on something you truly excel at. After all, I can be and am the walking, talking sex fantasy, the girl next door you wanted and got for people, who would want the half assed present girl?
It is not much of a seduction if you just need to figure out a good angle. Fabulous if your trying out to hold my vibrator, f*cking awful if you want me to melt, at that point I am much more likely to yawn and tell you how late it's gotten. I'm like frozen meat, best if thawed for several hours prior. Shitty direct from the freezer and slapped on the grill. I just don't care for being a demystified Burger King.