Okay, so I changed my mind...

Remember in the last post, when I said I wouldn't probably post anything of my writing? Well, I changed my mind...sort of. This isn't actually from a story, but it is from one of the "grand plans" I tend to lose myself in, in my own personal, fictional world. I imagine that once I'm a big, bad lawyer/uber-successful romance author I will have a lovely place to live by myself for awhile. I'll own a penthouse-style apartment with three bedrooms--one will be Asian-inspired, one will be inspired by Carnevale in Venice, and then the Master Bedroom--the master will be luxury on a plate. Half-bordello, half-sanctuary. Chocolate walls with metallic gold writing on the walls...one of the writings will be this:

Watch me. I’ll watch you. Watch the first touch of my body, softly caressing, quickly arousing until I’m touching the perfect spot on my body guaranteed to make me scream, rubbing slowly to build a slow, slow burn. I want you to touch yourself. Already hard, move your hand against the rigid length and pretend it’s my body deftly squeezing you and pulling your body into mine. It entrances me, watching the silky glide of rough, calloused fingers against skin both smooth yet so rigid, so beautifully formed. I would taste, but I dare not get that close, I only want to watch for now. I can see that glistening bead at the tip as I continue to move my fingers against myself, across the soft lips of my sex feeling my arousal grow the longer I watch you. Your thumb moves across that glossy drop that I know tastes salty but oh, so sweet. It’s almost too much, and I can feel that ecstasy overtaking, pushing me over that perfect precipice and into oblivion, but still I watch you. I watch, uninhibited feeling my pupils widen, my body tighten when I see your abs spasm, your hand grip your cock harder and as I watch you come thick and relentless against your hand I lose my grasp on sanity and call out your name.

I wrote that when I thought up the concept of a room like that. Watching a man masturbate turns me on, I don't know why, but it's a fantasy of mine. Hope you like ;-)

The literary aspect...

So, I realized I mentioned this in my original post about why the heck I'm blogging in the first place, but I simultaneously realized that I haven't actually written anything about it since.

What the heck am I talking about?

My "literary" awakening. I figure, it's good to break things up a bit--I've just spoken about porn for the last two blogs (I believe we've established that I quite love the stuff), so maybe I should mention some of my own "porn."

No, I'm not in any porn, but my friends all like to joke that that is what I write. In reality, it's more on the romance side. The romantica/erotica side in some cases, but it is still all about the romance.

I have a minor (possibly major) obsession with reading. I wish I were one of those people who can get lost in literally anything, be it fiction, non-fiction stories/memoires, history, biography, travel, cooking, etc. Yes, I do like some of those things in varying doses, but what I really love is fiction. All fiction (well except horror really, but I have some issues with horror anything). I've read "chick lit" (aka Romance Lite) since the end of high school probably. But a little over a year ago I made the scary leap to romance. And Jesu I've never looked back.

I was really embarrassed by my love of romance, but I'm sort of surprised by this because I've always been a complete and utter romantic at heart. Unfortunately, I was an English major and romance is not always looked upon as a viable genre when you are reading books by Dostoyevsky and Dickens. But frankly? I need a little romance to counteract those guys.

I've probably gathered more than 300 romance/erotica/romantica novels and eBooks in the last year. In fact, I'd actually guess that it is more than 400. I read really, really fast. I just can't put them down.

So, since I have a serious love of these books and since, since I was little (we're talking 5 or 6), I have loved to write any and everything (my cousins and I used to write plays--best one I wrote, and still have--"Return of Malificent's Crow: Malyshane's Revenge"--I was 10, and "Sleeping Beauty" was my favorite movie) I decided that I want to write romance novels. In high school it was the Next Great American Novel--then I read the Great American Novels and am more than slightly intimidated by them, I don't think I can think that deeply on paper. In college I wanted to write Chick Lit, because it was still in the fiction isle. Now I'm gung-ho about romance, and I'm pretty sure I will remain so.

But, I'm a law student, how can this be? Trust me, I've become more determined since entering law school than you'd imagine. In fact, there is a reason why I got the grades I got in law school my first year--mainly because I was writing my novels IN CLASS.

I doubt I'll post anything on here of what I'm actually writing, but I guess we'll see. I'm horrid at short stories and mini-fiction, so I tend to write in lengthy scenes...but maybe one day you'll see a post.

So that is my literary awakening. Coming soon to a bookstore near you (hopefully, one day).

Reflections on Porn...

When I was about 16 or 17 I got curious about porn. It was probably closer to sixteen, because that's around the time I started masturbating regularly. The point where I realized, "Holy crap, this is awesome. How can I do this more often?" I'm not at all sure what triggered the idea, I know I knew about it in its incarnations in Playboy and Hustler (if you want to call those porn), as my brother was quite a bit older than me and as I had guy friends who had turned eighteen when I was about 15 and had to go out and "buy porn and cigars." I happened to be with on one such occasion (dressed in my preppy little clothes that I now have to cringe at how dorky I probably looked) and when we went to his older brother's house the brother and his friends were watching porn and smoking weed (it was a big day of revelations for me). So, I knew about it, but I was never overly curious. I was too embarrassed to be.

So, who knows what triggered my curiosity enough to decide to write a paper in high school about the pornography industry. It was obviously pretty one-sided. I did look up some porn on the internet, and happened to run across a site at the time that was about "real rape." I've always had a fairly healthy fear and disgust for rape (I can't quite get my head around that kind of fantasy), and frankly think that rapists should be castrated and watch while their balls are fed to rabid dogs (I'm in law school, I get a little fired up in Crim Law about this stuff...I promise I'm down from my soapbox now though). Generally, though, I assumed that this was what porn was. I was unlucky to find that site right off the bat and I was even unluckier to read pieces by Andrea Dworkin and take them as law. I was a naive, goody-two-shoes 16-year-old, of course I took it as law.

Then I hit college and that whole point of view changed. I had loved masturbation in high school, but sex was sort of off my radar, then I got to the point where sex was all my radar saw and my roommates and I had male neighbors surrounding use who LOVED porn. Loved porn so much they wanted to share their love of it with the world. I found the "Taboo" porn of the 70s with Kay Parker, discovered what the word "squirt" meant, and discovered that shots of guys coming over and over again with no scene previewing how they got ready to do so made my gag reflex kick in. I also became comfortable with the words "pussy," "cock," "finger" (my friend hated that word in the context of sex), and all the other veritable array of words used in sexual situations. That was five years ago.

And now? Now I love porn. Yeah, I am sure there are plenty of things that Andrea Dworkin talks about that are true--maybe women are subjugated in porn, maybe it gives guys an unhealthy outlook on what sex is like, maybe it does present a Barbie-style body as normal and desireable (okay, so I don't love that one cause I'm never gonna look like Barbie), but I'm also turned on as hell by porn. I get extra worked up now seeing a guy come all over a woman (still don't like facials, but coming on a woman's stomach? Love it), or actually seeing the guy coming IN a woman, the way his cock pulses and pushes against her pussy is so hot.

The point to all this? I just discovered youporn.com. How the hell did I not know about this as soon as it came out?! I'm enraged. Almost. But I'm also so happy to have access to free porn that indulges the voyeur in me that I can hardly stand it. I was almost upset to get out of Rome and go to Naples this weekend (I was upset AFTER the fact because Naples is decidedly the armpit of the Universe), because I had been so ecstatic to find this site!

I've been home from Naples/lunch in Rome for a little over two hours. I've gotten off twice in the last hour (would have probably been more, but I had to do some catch up).

I love youporn.com. Porn lovers rejoice!

Horny Italians and porn...

Truly, I haven't met any horny Italians...but I haven't been out that much since I've been here (Rome, Italy). At least not to clubs and packed bars where I would feel them feeling me up and hoping for some action that night. Instead, I'm referring primarily to myself as a horny Italian. Regardless of the fact that I am not by any means Italian, I am living in Italy, so I figure I'll loosely refer to myself as such.

But I am horny. Damn am I horny. I mentioned this earlier about the fact that holding hands turned me on considerably one night that I was out. I don't think that has ever happened to me. I hadn't gotten off, before last night, in over a week, and I was sort of hoping for a bit more long-term satisfaction from that mini-orgasm.

No such luck. I'm horny again.

I'm not going to lie, I don't always have traditional female ideas of what is sexy--I like porn. In fact, I sort of love porn sometimes. I developed a fascination with "cartoon" porn a few years ago, and like to use that since it makes no noise from my computer--and even though a lot of the series have a bit of taboo subjects, I like them all the same (Freud's heyday--that is my mind). I also like traditional porn when I can watch it, as well. Preferably with some sort of storyline. I don't like the ones that simply show up on the screen and the fucking starts. I can deal with it and it will do in a bind, but even a really weak storyline is better than nothing. I had a "full immersion program" of porn when I was in my freshman/sophmore years of college from the neighbor boys (five different neighbor boys) and even if the storyline is ooh-I-just-got-caught-with-the-babysitter-and-my-wife-is-going-to-punish-us-both-by-making-us-fuck-like-rabbits (one I have seen) and the acting would have been better accomplished by my dog, I get turned on. That "program" must have stuck. :-)

Of course, I seem to get turned on by holding hands, so maybe I'm just always on the brink.

I think the combination of both the fact that I'm in a foreign country and that I haven't been getting any (from myself) is affecting my liberality (not sure that that is a word, but oh well) on the writing of this. Maybe I'm just more likely to think, who could possibly see this that knows me here?

Watch someone find it from my program and take a wild guess. Great.

That sexual feeling...

So, I have officially been in Europe since last Wednesday. It feels more like five weeks instead of five days, but I think that's mostly because the days in Iceland were light ALL THE TIME, so my internal clock was all screwed up and I slept funny. Being in London was better, even with the problems with the bombs and that kind of thing. The attention seemed to have diverted to Scotland about the time we got there, so it was lucky for us, even though my heart goes out to those people who were injured and scared.

Anyway, that has nothing really to do with sexual feeling. What does have to do with sexual feeling is one of the guys I'm traveling with. There are two girls, and three guys in our little group (well, we're at the study location now, so that's different, but it was just the two girls and three guys for the last five days). One is married, but away from his wife. The other female and one guy are dating and have been dating for six months. And me and the other guy? The loners and the singletons. The married guy is a bit quiet, but the single guy (let's call him C), it definitely an extrovert. We sort of knew each other this past year, but never really spoke much, so I was wary. He was always very nice, but I also momentarily wondered if he wasn't a closet case because he was SO nice. Probably doesn't speak highly of the guys I've known to say that, but his niceness was a little confusing.

So, now we're on this trip. Thrown together and chatting, and I tend to catch him looking at me. Not in the you're-in-a-general-area-and-I-am-staring-off-into-space kind of look, but actually looking at me. And then I catch his eye and hold his stare for a moment and then one or both of us will look away. Sometimes I'll make a funny face, or he'll make a funny face to break that momentary tension, but there is definitely some tension--even if I'm not sure if it's sexual in nature yet.

As I have previously mentioned, I"m not so adept in the sex category of life, but even I am seeing that this is a little different feeling than the guys that I've hoped were looking and took any excuse to say to myself that they were looking. He really is looking. It's almost unnerving.

Okay, okay. Sexual feeling. There is all that, but there is also this odd little thing that happened when we all went out in London the other night. The crowds were incredible, so I grabbed onto his arm to make sure we didn't lose each other, but then he would grab my hand and entwine our fingers. Seriously? I have never felt such a sudden rush of heat between my legs from such a simple touch. I don't even get it! I do consider myself fairly pretty, probably even beautiful when I put a little effort into it, but I am also not gorgeous all over. It's something I work on both physically and mentally, but C doesn't seem to notice that other part.

And more to the point, we've been sleeping in the same bed the last two nights. The first, he was drunk, and I was horny as hell but not drunk, and we were in a room with three other people--so there would be nothing happening. But my entire body went shivery cold in anticipation of him touching me in the middle of the night. He didn't do anything so blatant and spoon with me, but he touched me the whole night (and there were definitely one or two "accidental" brushes of fingers). He was up and down going to the bathroom a number of times, and each time he came back he moved closer to me. I thought my panties would explode.

More to come of course, because that's what I do. But I am dog tired and need a nap.