Transitions.

It is now Spring. Spring is such a transition where everything blossoms, and goes from being dull, grey, and lackluster to beautiful and in full bloom.

It is the season of change.

I am personally making big changes. I am trying to decide what to do about the Mr. Nice Guy situation. I feel like this is the most difficult decision I have ever had to make. When I left The Ex, I knew I was ready to leave him and that it was the right thing to do. Mr. Nice Guy is such a good guy, that making this decision is anything but easy. I don't want to divulge too many details, but I am not seeing him in the same light anymore. He is being very irresponsible and it is emasculating him to me. I want a manly man. I am feminist, and it is my right to say that that is what I want. I want a man who can make decisions and be a partner to me.

Is that too much to ask?

In relationships, When is Enough, Enough?

I know that relationships have seasons, just like life. And sometimes there are long winters you have to endure to get to the spring. You get that sense of renewal of your love. I don't feel that way anymore. I was talking to him the other day and I said, "I love you, but I'm not in love with you."

I have never had to say anything to him that was so harsh and crude. But, it needed to be said. I believe in total honesty and I want him to know how the situation is making me feel.

It's not a sexy or fun thing to do. But, it's real.

How long do I hold on and hope for him to change? How long do I wait for my feelings to change?

I may never be IN love with him again.

This makes me terribly sad. We have gone from being such a happy couple to this in such a short time. I don't know how it happened. I want to work through it, but you can't force yourself to be in love.

So, for now, I am going to enjoy Spring. I am going to let myself blossom into something beautiful.

Aroused.

Things are complicated for me right now.

But instead of focusing on that, let's focus on Eclectic Listener.

The second time we were together was different than the first. Things were easier. We talked more easily and I felt more at ease. Something about him made me feel out of control while still feeling sexually powerful. It's a strange set of emotions, but I was enjoyed the feeling of a loss of control.

In my daily life, I try to always be in control. I know where I am going, who I am going with, what the plan is, and I work very hard as a supervisor, so I spend most of my time telling other people what to do.

In the bedroom, I don't want to be in control.

He is a strong man who easily overpowers me, but not in a frightening way. He's tall with eyes that make you want to look into them and you know there is a story there, you just have to wait around long enough for him to tell it.

We sat on the edge of his bed and talked about music and a million other subjects that I have since forgotten. Finally, he turned toward me. I felt myself take a breath in knowing he was about to touch me. First, he complimented my heels. He told me he loved heels because they help make up for our height difference and they are fucking sexy. I couldn't agree more. He ran his hand up my leg and I felt the stirring of arousal surround me.

I wanted him.

I leaned into him and we kissed. The kissing was as fantastic as I had remembered it. He used this opportunity to push me back, onto the bed, and continue kissing his way down my body. Each kiss drew waves of anticipation. I felt like my body was electric.

I removed my heels and undressed for him. He put his hand between my legs and I felt as though I could cum immediately. I resisted the urge and moaned, arching my back. He positioned his body so he could continue to touch me while he kissed and licked and sucked between my legs. I don't know how many times I came because almost as soon as I finished cumming, I was ready to cum again.

It honestly gets a little blurry here.

I remember going down on him. How good it felt to have his hands pushing my head down on his cock. I remember moaning with him in my mouth.

And I remember him fucking me.

From behind. It was fantastic. Our bodies so incredibly in sync as he pounded into me and I met each thrust. The pleasure almost unbearable. He continued, grabbing my hips, I felt myself tighten around him, making him cum.

We laid there a minute, basking in our pleasure.

Moving. And Interview Me.

Today is moving day.

Things have been crazy with work, and my commute is far too long, so I am moving. I'm excited actually even though the house will be a downsize. It's a cute 1940's bungalow in a nice neighborhood, so I can't complain.

But, that means no blogging for a bit. Need time to unpack and get the Internet set up before I can start up again. I am hoping by the end of next week to have some incredibly fun dirty posts up for you.

But, to tide you over until then, Let's Interview Me.
TAG, a fantastic blogger friend, did a fun Interview Me on his blog where we could ask him questions to answer and he would return the favor. So, I am going to answer the questions TAG sent me, and feel free to send me more!

• The President has decided that blogging is so chic that he simply must have a "State Dinner" with a few bloggers. You are not only invited, but you get to make out the list of other bloggers that will be invited. What 10 bloggers are on your list for the President to invite?

I love this question. I would invite Vix from the Over-Educated Nympho, The Taoist Biker, TAG, Sexie Sadie, Kevin, Complicated Kitten, PostSecret, Susannah Breslin, and The Onion.

• One of Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny, The perfect guy who is your soul mate..... (take your pick as none of them really exist...lol)... comes to you with the power to grant you one super power. What super power do you choose?

If I could have one super power it would be mind-reading. I was born without a filter. People tend to know what I am thinking because I can blurt it out at any moment. But, the plus side of this is, you always know where you stand with me and never stand around thinking, "Is she mad at me?" I hate that. Loathe it actually. So, if I could see what other people are thinking this would be very useful. I could walk up to Eclectic Listener and say, "You want to do what to me?!?"

• Your boss has heard some wacky study that indicates that people who listen to music from one artist or group every day at work are more productive. You have been asked to choose the artist or group for the entire office. We know this will only last a month before your co-workers revolt and kill either you or the boss. Even so, you have to choose. Whom do you choose and why?

This is a tricky question. I don't believe I have mentioned this before on the blog, but I used to be the General Manager of a radio station as well as a DJ. I love music. I love making love to music. I love hearing a song and feeling moved by it. But, if I was wanting my co-workers to be productive, What would I choose? I choose Beethoven. Lyrics would grate on your nerves over time. And you would get sick of hearing the same intonations over and over. With Beethoven the pace would vary and enable you to really think and be productive. In college I listened to him incessantly.

• That knock knock at your door is Ben and Jerry. (Yes the ice cream dudes not traveling gigolos with a flair for the kinky. Then again, who is to say what those guys do when they aren't working.) They have noticed your blog and love it so much they want to make their next flavor of ice cream in your honor. The thing is, you have to come up with the flavors. What about it Nik. What are your flavors?

Energetic Existentialist would be the name of my flavor.
It would be a mesh of things that probably shouldn't go together but would somehow taste fantastic. Much like the dimensions of my personality. It would probably be vanilla based as I hate chocolate ice cream, with a hint of cherry because cherries represent something wholesome and to the majority of the American public my first impression is very girl next door. And definitely have an undertone of Red Bull. Because I am addict. I talk fast, walk fast, and am always trying something new.

• A co-worker you despise lies on the floor gasping for air. You are the only person who can save them. It is up to you to act (or not). This person is the bane of your existence and often you have contemplated leaving pipe bombs or poison insects in their car. Now is your chance. You can let them die while everyone stands around watching in horror. Or you can act to save them, thus prolonging your own suffering. What do you do?

Unfortunately for me in this situation, I would have to act. For one, my conscience would come after me. And two, I am a Certified Professional Rescuer Instructor. I can train others on CPR, AED, First Aid, and O2. So, technically I could go to jail for not helping. *sigh*

• In a recent blog post you mentioned not liking a part (or parts) of your body. What parts and why?

I have learned to love my body. I love the power it wields. But there are parts I'm not crazy about. Mainly, I wish I had longer legs. I was cursed by my Father to have short legs and a long torso. They aren't ridiculously short, but I notice it. They are very strong though and I appreciate that. And the second thing I dislike I inherited from my Mother. It is my inability to have a flat stomach. No matter what size I am, it is never flat. We are built with hips, and curves, all six of my sisters and myself. But, in some ways, I think that is beautiful too.

Loss.

I feel it surrounding me right now. When loss is surrounding you, it almost consumes you and makes you feel like your are suffocating in it.

I have had my fair share of loss. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, and I have never looked back, I felt loss when I left The Ex. I felt like I was mourning what we were supposed to have. I was mourning the loss of hope for our marriage and future together. Everything that I thought we would have and everything that I had put into it. I mourned it as though I was grieving a loved one.

Then, I lost my Dad. He wasn't perfect. No one is. He was technically my stepfather, but they had been married since I was 8. He sewed my dance costumes, went to my school plays, cried when I graduated from high school and paid for college and my wedding. He was a fantastic father. He was so supportive when I left The Ex. He hated The Ex for abusing me and wanted to kill him. He restrained himself but felt as though he had failed me somehow for not saving me from that situation. And then one morning, he had a massive arrhythmia in our backyard and died. He suffered lack of oxygen and was brain dead. We had him on life support for 10 days before finally letting him go. It was the hardest thing I have ever gone through. Even though its been about a year and a half, I am crying as I write this.

Now, my life is different. I have Mr. Nice Guy and everything is great. Or it is supposed to be. things are spiraling out of control and our relationship isn't what I want it to be. And it isn't because of OMFG. In fact, I haven't really seen him in three weeks so he isn't factoring into any of what is transpiring at home. Mr. Nice Guy is acting more like Mr. Irresponsible. I feel like I am falling out of love. It makes me sad to imagine that. When we met, I though this was it. I had found the guy that was everything I wanted. But now, I am coming to realize it was too soon after The Ex and decisions may have been made too hastily. I honestly don't know what to do.

On top of this, I have lost a close friend this week. He lost his battle with brain cancer. We just found out he had it on Christmas Eve and now he is gone. I know he is no longer suffering and I am thankful for that. But he was far too young for his life to end. I am mostly sad for my niece and nephew, he is their grandfather, and I hate seeing them go through this all over again. First my Dad, and now this. It's terrible.

Loss is an overwhelming emotion. I need room to breathe.

Reflections.

The first time I was with Eclectic Listener he made me cum in ways I never had before. Literally.

But, let's start at the beginning. We met through a mutual acquaintance and it was one of those rare first meetings where your instincts tell you that there is a connection. I have only had this happen a few times in my life, and these people turned out to be some of the best friends I have ever had. Eclectic Listener turned out to be one of the best fucks I have ever had. I could immediately tell he was intelligent, which is a huge turn on for me. And, I instantly felt at ease with him. Within five minutes I told him two things about me that two of the people closest to me don't even know.

That first conversation led to a second conversation, and a third. By the end of the third I knew I would have sex with him, even though neither of us had discussed it. Since then we have talked about it, and he said he knew too.

Within a couple of days of that last conversation he invited me over. We both knew the reason I was going to visit him. I had to feel him inside me. It was like my nerve endings were pulsing with the need to see how well our connection would translate in the bedroom.

When I first arrived we chatted a bit, I met his dogs, and we made our way to the bedroom. Let me preface this by saying prior to this night we had never even kissed. When we got in the bedroom, I laid down on the bed. I tried to make it unassuming. Like I just needed a place to rest a minute. I didn't want to come off as a complete whore who just laid on every bed she passed. He laid next to me, and it was difficult for me to make eye contact. I NEVER have an issue with that. But I wanted him to kiss me so badly I was afraid it was written all over my face.

We were laughing and joking about his love of scented candles. I asked if you could mix the scents or if you needed one to make a 'theme' for your house. He said you could mix them and they even had a chart that would explain which scents go best together. Then I looked at him. "Are you sure you're not gay?" I knew good and well he wasn't, but I begged the question and smiled. He said, "Positive." "Let's test it." I said, and leaned into him and we kissed.

Immediately it was apparent that our connection translated into the bedroom. The kissing was hot and hungry. With each sweep of our tongues the intensity grew. Within minutes he was groping my breasts, pulling down my top and grabbing at my flesh. I felt his teeth on my neck and his hand between my legs.

I was wet.

Even though he was there pleasuring me, my body ached for more. I wanted to feel his tongue between my legs and eventually his cock. He removed my clothes and fingered me while we kissed. He said, "I have to taste you," and maneuvered himself in between my thighs. I was moaning, writhing, and bucking my hips while his mouth worked against my pussy. HOT. He had me cumming in a matter of minutes.

I got him naked and admired his dick. I licked it up and down, moaning, before taking it all in. Well, taking in as much of it as I could. I had been craving giving him a blow job all week. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and took control of the rhythm of my head. I love that. I wanted him to cum in my mouth right then, but I also didn't want to have to wait for him to cum during sex later.

He asked me to get on top of him and we fucked. He had me lean back and I could feel him so deep inside me, my breasts bouncing with each thrust. He used his hips to lift my body causing him to be as deep as possible, causing almost too intense pleasure. I looked to my right and in his dresser mirror, I could see myself fucking him. I had never had this opportunity before. I watched our bodies move in sync. It turned me on even more than I already was, and I came. Again.

He had me on all fours near the edge of the bed while he stood behind me. He thrusted hard and I heard deep grunting matching my moans. I could hear him dirty talking me. "You like that?" I wanted to answer but I was at a loss for words. The only reply I could muster was a loud moan. But for the record, I liked it. He could tell my breathing was getting fast and the moans sounded like pleas. "Cum on my cock. You like it. Cum on my cock, let me feel you cum." I moaned and came again.

He laid me down on the bed and put my legs in the air and pounded me until I was breathless. I could tell he was close to orgasm and I clenched myself around him. His moans became more pronounced. He told me he was about to cum and to let him know when I was close. He was so deep inside me, so aggressive it was impossible for me to not cum again. We came together and collapsed on the bed.

And this, was just our FIRST encounter.

Curves.

I have curves.

It has taken me years to come to love my body. I don't love everything about it. There are parts I loathe. But, it's mine. I'm not a skinny girl, I never will be. My body is made to have meat on it.

I have curves.

I love the curve of my calves, lean and muscular. They look great in heels. I love the smoothness of my legs and how when OMFG runs his hands up and down them, I quiver. My legs are tan. And strong, from ten years of work on my feet. Desk jobs never did suit me. The one concussion I have had in my life I got working a desk job. I'm a busy body. It keeps my body strong.

I love having an hourglass figure. When I wear a tank top and skirt, like I did today, I feel beautiful. I love the roundness of my breasts and their silhouette when I catch a glimpse of them from the side.

I have curves.

My body is fleshy and mine. I didn't write this post to be narcissistic. People who know me well read this blog and know that I am insecure but confident. It's an oxymoron but it suits me. I know what I look like and I embrace it. I am comfortable in my own skin. I love my curves.

Here's to my first HNT.