Unfinished Articles

So last night, last evening, JW arrived at my place having biked from Glenora over the Malahat. I was dreading hanging out with him as it turns out, even though just a week ago, I was practically inviting him. But when I saw him through the glass front doors, I realized I had forgotten that he was quite attractive.

He was smiling and laughing which I could hear through the doors. When I opened them, I got a whiff of his stinky self. It smelled particularly bad as well because I was not too stoked on having to hang out with him all evening. I even told him, that he stunk.

Since he was so stinky, and I was taking him to dinner at my parents, I offered him to have a shower at my place which he was keen to. I tried to tell him to “gently” use the taps in the shower, even though I haven’t bothered with those instructions in a while to anyone, but since he just muscled his way over the Malahat and seemed to just have intense energy I was concerned he would just crank on the taps – and so I went into the bathroom and turned them on myself. Maybe I did that for him as well to hurry him along as I was already running late.

Luckily, he had a quick shower and smelled much better, but still a bit bad which I commented on. He said it could be the spruce essential oil he used, however I didn’t think it was that as I do like spruce smell. So, I brought out the Daddy perfume and he put some on his wrists which helped. Shortly after the perfume application, we left to bike to Fern to pick up the giftcard from Roman that I was to give to Jill this morning.

JW biked fast. I had to pedal harder than I normally would, specially just getting on my bike. But it was nice to have someone set a pace. He was so hunched over and he kept glancing behind him, at me, and doing his laugh – which was all annoying and exhausting to deal with.

Eventually we get to Roman’s place on Park – and as JW is getting off his bike he somehow falls over which he laughs and laughs about. I, again, find all the laughing annoying as hell. Roman comes out and we had a little chat about how the board meetings has changed over time – before Roman came on, the board meetings happened more frequently and for longer. I think he said that he put a stop to that – that they didn’t have to happen so often. It was eye opening and nice to talk about another person s experiences and perspective as in our board meetings everyone is usually quite polite.

Some guy drove by in a red truck and talked to us about biking.

We went for dinner at dads.

Then we hung out to watch the sunset at dads, inside. I wasn’t sure what else to do with him really and it was so comfy at dads. I liked spending time with him and chatting, and so we stayed until around 10:30pm. We got onto the topics about politics and turns out he voted conservative, isn’t for the whole promotion of gay pride, doesn’t think about Trump… just all red flags. It made me realize he isn’t the guy for me.

JW said he was going to camp either at 10 Mile Point or Cad Bay Road. I was a little sad because I was starting to want him to sleep over/I wanted to keep hanging out with him. I was saying something that made him respond that he would bike me home which is exactly what I wanted and knew I was potentially getting closer to getting him to spend the night.

So we set off to bike back to my house. I took him down Charles Street, left on Son, right on Couver, left on Mason, right on Ora, onto the Richardson Street bridge, right on ---, onto the wooden trestle, and up through Washing Park, left on Washing, right on Orge and right on Rroll Street.

The pace was better and on --- he was biking beside me and I tried to pick up the pace – to exert dominance? To show him I could bike hard too?

After getting home I brought my bike inside. I came back out to chat with him a bit. We chatted a lllooottt. So much that I looked at my phone and it was 12:49 am. His plan at this point was to bike to Sooke to camp. Again, I was sad – but didn’t know / wasn’t sure about him sleeping over. I already offered to him that he could sleep on the couch or spare bedroom which his camping gear. Eventually it came to the point that he was going to move on, bike out to Sooke, and I knew then it was now over never so I ask if he wanted to come in and make out for a bit. He was a bit unsure – especially after the heated conversation back at my parents. He said, after a few seconds, that he’d come in for a bit. Again, I knew I was getting closer to what I wanted.

So I went inside first closing the door behind me. I was a bit scared he would just bike off. I heard him soon enough walking in – I could hear his bike shoes clatter on the concrete. Again, I wondered if he was getting ready to rush off soon if he was wearing his bike shoes as I thought he had taken them off while we were chatting outside.

I was setting up my computer with the speakers and was trying to find a good part of one of my playlists to start playing music. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me which was a good start. I think I turned around then and hugged him? I really am not sure. But I do remember sitting on this couch with him. And I had my hands on him. And then he was saying something about starting slow, light touches – and it just wasn’t computing in my brain that I had to touch him… lightly? I asked him “what do you mean” and then he just stopped talking and took control. I did try to kiss him – and it was awkward – it was too forward it seemed like. He seemed taken aback.

At first, I was on my back and he was on top of me – but he started to get crampy and so he pulled me on top of him. My blue shirt came off and then he pulled the straps of my bib down and started to massage my tits through my see-thru pink tank top. I was grinding on his crotch even though I wasn’t sure about having sex with him still – especially since I was on my period. He was admiring my tits. I said they were bigger since I was on my period. Eventually he took off my tank top and I was slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He took his shirt off too so we could be skin to skin which was so nice to have that recognized.

I can’t remember what happened but eventually he was trying to completely peel off my bib. But I said I had bled through my panties – he didn’t respond at all and so the bib came off. And then I was standing beside the couch as he was lying down and he was moving the crotch of my panties to the side and touch my labia. I must have said sorry at one point and was acting  insecure that he said “don’t be sorry” and something else and that just snapped me out of my self-consciousness.

Then I was straddling him in my period-stained panties and grinding on him which I was aware that I could be staining his pants with my blood as well. Then he was on the floor, and moving my panties to the side, rubbing his fingers on me, and then he went down on me which was so interesting and brave of him, to go down on my bloody pussy. He started off quite gentle and then he was fully on my pussy which was so nice. And then it stopped, and he was pulling down his pants. I said I did not want to go down on him.

I was then standing up alongside him and again was grinding my crotch on him. He pulled down my panties – and then he was holding up a leg of mine while trying to penetrate. I was a bit unsteady and trying to gain my footing and then he picked me up so he was holding me while penetrating me. That was crazy. He kept readjusting me and so I was at a better level while he rocked me with his dick in me. I asked him if he was actually thrusting in me – or was it just a rocking motion. I wasn’t sure if this was actually enjoyable for him – even though he was initiating everything (so I shouldn’t have been so concerned). It did feel good because there was pressure on my clit. It was an amazing show of strength to hold me while he was fucking&rocking in me. I think after my question, he slowly let me put my legs on the ground and then he was fucking me on the couch and I started my usual furious clit rubbing.

He asked me what I liked and eventually I said I wasn’t sure – but also I just wanted to be on my back. And so he just fucked me. Eventually I told him I do like it slow. At some points the penetration alone did feel really good. At one point he seemed quite deep and was asking how I liked that and I said it felt crampy – especially since I had my diva cup in. He was also thrusting in me shallowly a lot and at one point said he “loved doing it and that usually he feels selfish doing so but I seemed to like it” which I did. And then he was just fucking me, trying to get me to cum, and I was just fiercely rubbing my clit trying to cum and then I was cumming and he was stilling thrusting, so I had another mini orgasm and then I was close to another one, and possibly had a mini orgasm as well, and then he was thrusting super hard and fast and then we were done. But his dick was still in me which felt nice. I didn’t want his dick to leave me. He told me that he came in me 10 minutes ago, which was surprising as I didn’t actually give him the okay to cum in me. He told me though I wasn’t fertile. He assured me.

And then we had a shower together afterwards which was nice. As he was toweling off in the shower I was going pee and just as he was opening the shower curtain I was in mid wipe – which still felt very comfortable.

Was it sabotage I was doing again?

“So will three and two trigger points be on the exam?”

I should know better to ask this question with the door wide open, into the hall where other faculty could hear from their offices, or walking by, or other students walking by. 

“No” he answers quickly.  “Remember don’t tell anyone.”

“No, I definitely will not,” I assure him. I already feel guilty, knowing this is against the college policy - it is outright cheating. I could have written down all the answers he was going through, all the questions, so I could remember where I had to show my work - but I felt bad and so guilty, that I couldn’t be bothered. 

A part of me felt relieved that I would be done with this class, finally, ill pass!

I’m going on a date, and I realize it is just a date. I realize I have unhealthy expectations of relationships - I realize I don’t know how to date/meet someone/be in a relationship. 

Just because I am going on a date(s) does not mean I am in a relationship, a partnered one that is. Honestly, this literally dates back to when I was 19. When I met C, and quickly entered into a bf/gf relationship. I could have just dated him and figured things out as time went on. 

Finally in March we see each other, but only under the pretence of you inspecting a wound I have. 

When you inspect me, you rub my body saying it’s so toned. I wasn’t expecting that and dissociate. I end up sucking you off for some reason. Then I go home. 

A few hang outs later I learn that you were dating your old girlfriend again. During the time we weren’t hanging out and I was missing your presence. 

It clicks. That is why we weren’t hanging out and that is why we are hanging out again. That is why we are banging again.

Because you are single and horny. 

I question why you didn’t tell me you were dating her and you back track. Saying you weren’t actually. You become defensive and you even try to call me. But I don’t want to talk to you. 

3 years ago exploring small towns around Belgrade, my friend and I came across these houses that looked abandoned. The properties seemed to be in a canyon. The first house, closest to the road we were just on was plain and vacant looking. The grass and plants were overgrown on the property. When we peered into the window though there were two single beds, each at either sides of the room. In each bed a person was sleeping, their hair visible. It was very creepy, why were these people sleeping during the day? And what a weird bed set up. I guess my friend and I were actually the creepy ones, trespassing and peering into peoples houses while they slept...

We could see there was more properties behind this house, so we decided to keep walking when this guy walked out of the overgrown bush, probably from his a few houses back.

The next property we came upon was this unfinished house. Everything overgrown, mostly blackberry bushes and lots of thorns. It was very private, and the abandoned environment would make for a perfect nude I realized, so I stripped down and Instructed B how I wanted him to take the photo.

I love the tone of my skin in this. It was a very bright day, but no sun light was hitting the property, except behind the house up on the mountain as you can see. I have scoliosis so that is why my hips are out of line.

Half-way through “The Erotic Cookbook: Love + Cooking” by Tanille Geib. Each chapter takes on a story of an event in Tanille’s life and ends with a recipe in which a meal in that event was served. The meals look and sound delicious from how Tanille describes them in the story and the ingredients listed. 

This book was given out at Red Umbrella event this past December 17th and I am so thankful it has. This book is not about sex work but simply about love and cooking. I am thankful it was given out at the event though because it reminds of the feeling of belonging and acceptance of having been a part of the sex work industry. 

“well, is he creepy?” I asked

One - M is not going to break up with L, specially since there is only two more months before he leaves again and once he is gone sailing again in Mexico L will be joining him. Why would he sabotage having a skilled sailing partner join him?

The next day the clouds had lifted. Still a dull white, but the pressure relieved the gloominess among the household. I pick up the black heavy-set binoculars, meant to be used for fishing on a boat, but since five years ago my parent claimed they have no money for a new motor for the boat, these oculars have just been used to look at passing sea life, other people fishing, and for people spying. I press the eye pieces to my orbital plate and direct the objective lens to rocky areas of the beach. Everything on the beach is dark brown for the days of rain; boulders, logs, seaweed, and unidentifiable objects. As I scan from right to left my eyes pick up what looks to be an animal; possibly a seal. I hold the binoculars as still as I can, and focus on any details of this object to help me make a clear definitive answer. I want the skull of the seal. A small surge of excitement floods through me.

**

My feet skip brown, rock to rock, to the spot where I saw the seal lying through the binoculars, however the body is not there. I walk a few more steps, past the small tad pool I use to hold in fish as a small child, catching them in bigger pools and placing them here. I jump to boulders, a little less limber from my fishing days. In the crevice of the rock formations, I see the seal. I bend down to the plump body of this creature. The fur glistens from the bright overcast clouds. Entirely intact, I cannot even spot a telling deathly wound. I probe the head with a stick figuring unrealistically the time it will take for the flesh to decompose from the skull; a few days, or at most a week.

Days later I check on the body, but to my disappointment, it has vanished. I reason with myself though, figuring a wildlife organization picked up the body incase some unwanted wild animals were attracted, or perhaps to make a study of the reason of the seal body washed up like it did. 

I didn’t want to see him. He was annoying, is annoying. Needy. But the sex was so good- and would it really matter if I had sex with him. He seems to have changed. After each time I tell him he’s being annoying.

Before I know it I am inviting him over. He has been so supportive with my job hunting, house hunting, arrival back home. I wonder, a little, subconsiouly, how it will be to see him. I am so over him. But not ovet the potential monetary value he offers my life- except I just realize him offering to pay for my bus rides, and other future little things, and right off the bat, is again a way to lure me into his arms. He knows I am broke, and my tendency to rely on dudes for money even when I hate them. That is how our relationship started, of course. 

I see him walking towards the gate. It’s weird. I can’t believe he is here. I can’t believe I am having a visit with him. I dont care, my body says, I dont give a flying fuck about this dude- I have no interest in him. After more than a year.

He comes in. I offer him tea. It’s polite, but I am also nervous. It feels surreal. We talk about some things… I hardly remember because I was so nervous. I look at his face. I am reminded he is tall. His ugly fucking hair framing his ugly face. Again, after more than a year, I realize he is not that attractive. 

I hand him his cup of tea and we go into the living room to sit. Except the couch is completely covered in the former alcoholic roommates things. I feel awkward that I told him to sit yet there is nowhere to sit. He says it’s fine and looks about like he can just move the shit, but I decide to go into my room because that is where I feel more comfortable surrounded by all my own shit- at least there are places to sit. 

We sit and chat. And then I am searching, wasting time and my nervous energy, for photographs to show S- even though I don’t really care to show him and I know deep down he doesn’t really care either. He flips through them silently and quickly. 

I am getting ready for a Seeking Arrangement meetup. I am asking for his advice. He doesn’t like it and decides to leave. But I don’t want him to leave. And I realize I could make him stay if I had sex with him. And I realize- if I had orgasmic sex I would feel a lot less nervous about this other date. 

We start making out. He’s on top of me. Feeling up my boobs. My boobs are so responsive. Please touch me. More. My tits, my boobs, knead them. I go on top then. He takes off my shirts. I grind his crouch. Then he is on top again and he pulls off all my pants. And then he goes down on me. And it is a million times better then B. It is wet, it feels good, its correct. And then he places his finger and moves it in expertly. He stops and he pulls off everything. His shirt, his pants. He is doing it all. Condom on. Inside me. Fuck it feels so good. Human dildo, HELLO. He does that move, that I like, so expertly, I can rub myself off better. It feels amazing. We are making out and he is thrusting in me. He is fucking me. I feel like a starfish. His body is so warm, his skin so smooth. I hug my legs close to him to feel his warmth. I want to press my feet against him but they are frozen as fuck and I don’t want to shock him. I try to rub as he fucks but our bodies are too close together. It feels like he is fat and his belly is spilling over. He tries to get me to go on top, lying down tits up- I know that move and I hate it. So I get on top, cow-girl, and he fucking fucks me from the bottom until there is that feeling, and with rubbing my clit and him thrusting his dick up and into me I start to cum, and I’m cumming, it has been so long that this cumming has happened it overtakes me. I let it over take me. The feeling is in my stomach and my body is doing whatever. 

He cums and his face scrunches up into a scowl. It’s over. My vagina feels done. 

Slide, slide, slide. I could be reading, I think. 

I roll to my right side, pushing with my right arm, I sit up. And very purposely I put pressure on me feet, and lift my body straight up into a standing position off the floor where I lay. I walk briskly to the mud room and look in my pane bag attached to my bike, but it is empty. I panic and think the worst possible situation- Did I leave it at Paul’s house? I would have to bike all the way there and talk to him just to get the one thing that would fulfill my sad lonely life. I realize in that second of the world ending I should do a quick look around my place. So I walk back to the room I was just sleeping in, and there on my make-shift table of stacked boxes filled with junk, rests the pink covered feminist book that feeds my soul (at this point of time, anyways). I pick it up relieved and go back to my bed. I am hungry I think, eating some frozen blue berries while I read would be nice, but that would take another bit of effort so I don’t put the fantasy into action. 

I am reading in bed now lying on my right side to get the little bit of light coming through the small window. I am re-reading a page I realize, but continue on because I know it would remind me of where I left off. It’s about the show Girls. My eyes lift from the bottown of the left page to the top of the right page where I begin on unread words. Already I feel better reading a book than reading one-liners and scrolling through pictures after pictures. Halfway down the paragraph, my eyes register a seeemingly familiar word because of the root - ‘neo’- but the ending - ‘potism’- is foreign. I don’t know what it means, but I keep reading as I usually do with words I do not know, so never really learning new words and never knowing exactly what idea is being conveyed by the writer. As the paragraph is coming to a close the word ‘neopotism’ is used a few more times and my brain registers the meaning of the word, by way of the writer conveying her point.