Saturday, January 01, 2005
Environmental influences
As predicted... nothing going on that's in any way mentionworthy on this blog here in my home town. Too busy spending time with my family and missing The Fiancé like crazy. Trying not to masturbate too much to thoughts of him... sleeping in my parents' living room on my parents' couch doesn't make for the most inviting and comfortable environment for things of that nature. It's a matter of psychology, really. So I am reduced to fulfilling only my most urgent needs. Yeah, feel sorry for me later.
Of course by now I am so bottled up, that I am having confused but highly sexually charged dreams of being invited to take a shower with Brad Pitt, sneaking past The Fiancé so he wouldn't get jealous, finding a naked, wet, and obviously excited-to-see-me Brad Pitt with open arms in a hot shower/steam-room type thing, and the second I move into the water and his receiving arms and he starts to passionately kiss and suck on my naked neck and shoulders I recognize his touch, look up, and realize it's been The Fiancé all along, the thought of which excites me doubly, and we engage in passionate lovemaking under steaming running water (- and let me tell you: my dreams are usually very realistic; in color, sensation, and sound)...
...until I hear my Dad's voice reminding me it's time to wake up and get dressed for last night's New Year's Eve event at a friend's house.
Uh-huh... that's how you imagine being woken up from a dream like that. Sure Dad, just gimme a second! Ugh.
The reality of suddenly being awake has never looked so harsh and unkind before.
On the bright side, however: I have enough Christmas money leftover for my big hole-punching-in-private-parts plans. That's going to be my personal Christmas/birthday gift from myself to myself. And furthermore certainly to The Fiancé, as I hope he'll get his own kick out of my new embellishment on one of his favorite parts of my body.
If it were up to me I'd already go now while I am still here in Europe and get it done. That way it'd be healed (or very close to being so) by the time I return into his arms, and we wouldn't be inhibited by various healing processes and physical sensitivities for a period of time. What keeps me from doing that is of course the fact that I rather have him with me by my side and holding my hand when I get it done, and for him to baby me a bit afterwards and tell me what a good little girl I was, and how brave I was. Maybe he'll even buy me ice cream afterwards. That, and of course my upcoming skiing vacation. I am sure that daily exercise of at least 6 hours stuffed into tight and warm multiple layers of clothing that leave me simmering in my own sweat by the end of the day, combined with the constant movement and rubbing of my thighs against each other wouldn't do the healing of such a thing any good.
So I'll wait a couple more weeks, which also gives me time enough to gather all the necessary courage, and then go with him. I'd pass out without him holding my hand anyways. I'm pretty sure of that.
I hope you had a great New Year's Eve, and I wish you all a Happy New Year. For myself, of course, I wish for my ambition to tell people about who I really am to remain strong... and of course I finally and desperately want to lose my homo-based virginity. *all thumbs up*
Of course by now I am so bottled up, that I am having confused but highly sexually charged dreams of being invited to take a shower with Brad Pitt, sneaking past The Fiancé so he wouldn't get jealous, finding a naked, wet, and obviously excited-to-see-me Brad Pitt with open arms in a hot shower/steam-room type thing, and the second I move into the water and his receiving arms and he starts to passionately kiss and suck on my naked neck and shoulders I recognize his touch, look up, and realize it's been The Fiancé all along, the thought of which excites me doubly, and we engage in passionate lovemaking under steaming running water (- and let me tell you: my dreams are usually very realistic; in color, sensation, and sound)...
...until I hear my Dad's voice reminding me it's time to wake up and get dressed for last night's New Year's Eve event at a friend's house.
Uh-huh... that's how you imagine being woken up from a dream like that. Sure Dad, just gimme a second! Ugh.
The reality of suddenly being awake has never looked so harsh and unkind before.
On the bright side, however: I have enough Christmas money leftover for my big hole-punching-in-private-parts plans. That's going to be my personal Christmas/birthday gift from myself to myself. And furthermore certainly to The Fiancé, as I hope he'll get his own kick out of my new embellishment on one of his favorite parts of my body.
If it were up to me I'd already go now while I am still here in Europe and get it done. That way it'd be healed (or very close to being so) by the time I return into his arms, and we wouldn't be inhibited by various healing processes and physical sensitivities for a period of time. What keeps me from doing that is of course the fact that I rather have him with me by my side and holding my hand when I get it done, and for him to baby me a bit afterwards and tell me what a good little girl I was, and how brave I was. Maybe he'll even buy me ice cream afterwards. That, and of course my upcoming skiing vacation. I am sure that daily exercise of at least 6 hours stuffed into tight and warm multiple layers of clothing that leave me simmering in my own sweat by the end of the day, combined with the constant movement and rubbing of my thighs against each other wouldn't do the healing of such a thing any good.
So I'll wait a couple more weeks, which also gives me time enough to gather all the necessary courage, and then go with him. I'd pass out without him holding my hand anyways. I'm pretty sure of that.
I hope you had a great New Year's Eve, and I wish you all a Happy New Year. For myself, of course, I wish for my ambition to tell people about who I really am to remain strong... and of course I finally and desperately want to lose my homo-based virginity. *all thumbs up*
