Tainted, love?

Well, this is turning up to be a Summer of Bananarama proportions. cruel, in a very light-S-&-M way. Wonder why? Well, as soon as I was charging my mojo, we moved to our friends' house for what has been almost three weeks. Funny, when you are out of your usual element it all feels like a vacation. Kind of.

I've been so fucking busy trying to finish all I have to finish that I have almost not noticed that we have not had all that much sex. And I discovered that it is because I don't like to have sex when there's other people around.

Who would have THUNK. I'm shy. I'm coy. I'm private and I don't like other people messing up my vibe. I like to have sex and be loud, sweaty and almost rough. Funny, don't you think? People would assume that someone who bleaches his hair almost white and sometimes comes across as sexy wouldn't mind the people in the next bedroom hearing him moan and groan and bang his head against the headboard. But I do. Sex is something too intimate to not enjoy it thoroughly. I like to hear my man moaning, groaning, calling my name, whatever it is that he wants to say or do. At whatever tone of voice: a shout or a whisper. And I like to do the same. I like to watch him come and enjoy looking in his eyes at the first spurts come out. I like to get hoarse after having one of those orgasms that seem to go on for ten minutes even if they last a pitiful eleven seconds. I like to lay there exhausted, collecting my breath, feeling my heartbeat slowly going back to normal, while I kiss his mouth and feel that hot little cold varnish of sweat that covers you when you've just come. But you know that, don't cha? I still remember how you feel. And taste. And sound. After all this time.
Now I'll have to go and get one of those Stone Cold ice creams. Probably peaches and cream. With cake and white chocolate thrown in for good measure.
I'll ask for the LOVE IT size. And will eat it slowly.