I’m sick. It’s too bad too, just when I felt we could do things together that we haven’t been able to do in a long time. Just when I got comfortable. I’m sick and he’s religiously going to the gym. I’m not sure what that’s all about. He’s lost a lot of weight and is trying to get fit now pretty seriously. And he was already really skinny to start with. I admit to liking really skinny men, I do. It turns me on to see his hip bones stick up and his pack showing, even if it’s not a sixpack but something less defined.
Anyway. I also discovered I have herpes, the secondary one (I had to look this up). It turned out on my lip when I was really stressed about a week ago and made me realize, for the first time, that it’s not just another pimple. It can be transmitted. My sister was horrified as she exclaimed that she didn’t know I had it. I really thought almost everyone has it, because I remember we all did when we were children, and it doesn’t go away, because it stays in your blood.
The thing is. I’ve just found out that one of my friends has the same virus in her vagina. That really made me react, because I didn’t know the secondary virus that erupts in the mouth area can be transmitted and somehow transformed to a STD. Turns out, my friend told me, it’s almost worse than the real STD herpes, because almost no one has it. She has to tell everyone she wants to sleep with from no on that she has it. That’s some pretty heavy shit for a woman who’s just broken up with her boyfriend and is quite used (and entitled) to playing the field.
So… Do you see where I’m going here?
I can’t blow Wonderboy. I can’t lick him, even his balls. When he went down on me yesterday and earlier this week he had to go wash his mouth thoroughly before so I don’t get my own herpes from his lips! Wonderboy hasn’t been getting off, because he’s not likely to come if I only use my hands and he’s been pretty out of it anyway.
It makes me feel bad. Well, not bad exactly, but unfulfilled. I want him to orgasm. I know, I know. He will. It just sucks to be sick and unable to make him come. It just does.
And I know he enjoys it when I come. It makes him happy to be able to make me come. And I hope that his masturbating in the shower or something, because I really don’t want him to just lose all interest in sexual things like this, for whatever the reason.
I however have been more than sexual for the past couple of week. Wonderboy fucked me real good on sunday. It was so perfect, that I came just from fucking alone, not much of foreplay or magic tricks needed. And after the great fuck I had to masturbate four times just to bring myself down from my extatic fuckstacy.
And I’ve been thinking, thinking and watching men masturbate, fuck themselves in the ass and fuck and suck each other – my favorite past times – if I’ve silenced my hyper mega sexdrive somehow. If I’m trying to reach the same levels as Wonderboy to feel fulfilled by the sex we have? Because, to be honest, however brilliant and exciting the sex, if I have to masturbate four fucking times after it, the meaning of the sex itself kind of diminishes. I don’t want that to happen, but it seems kind of inevitable.
I do love myself and I don’t necessarily feel bad or guilty about masturbating… But it does make me feel like I’m not being fulfilled (this word just keeps popping up now!). I thought that our libidos weren’t that different. Probably they arent that different, but the work situation now is kind of unbearable. Wonderboy spends 12 hours or more (yesterday it was 14 hours) in work and commute, and that really leaves little time to anything else.
But my body and my sexual self don’t go for these explanations. I want sex! they exclaim. And then they’re unhappy when it doesn’t happen.