BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE NEEDS

having sex with a friend (chimp) was going well for me, as mentioned in part one (see a couple of entries back); the only issue I had was the feeling of withdrawal during the week, before the weekends when we would have sex. I wanted to have sex with him during the week. well, actually, I wanted to fuck him five times a day alldayeverydayallnighteverynight. I wanted to fuck him in the library on campus, I wanted to fuck him in a public bathroom, I wanted to fuck him in every position imaginable. just knowing that there was someone there that I could have that great of sex with made me consistently and permanently hot and bothered.

I really wanted to be able to text him during the week, soberly, and just have sex with him. but we hadn’t talked about that. and every time I saw him sober during the week, which is quite a lot on campus, I was just trying to make it through the conversation without blurting out something like “OH HI WE HAD HOT WET HARD AMAZING EXPLOSIVE PERFECT ORGASMIC SEX, HOW ARE YOU ON THIS FINE DAY?!”

things got a little bit complicated at a tailgate party when I didn’t speak to him at all. I just got so legitimately hot and bothered around him that I didn’t even want to talk to him. it was like I could burst into a million horny pieces if we even stood there and had to make eye contact for small talk. that night, though, we texted like normal, and he told me to come to their afterparty. I didn’t go, because I’d been drinking all day and was too wrecked from vodka and redbull since 11 am.

so I didn’t show, and we went a few days without talking.

come the next week, there was a show some friends and me were going to, and I didn’t think that chimp would be going…which was silly of me, seeing as one of his roomies/best friends was going and I knew that.

I got five-alarm drunk and talked to one of my close guy friends about him. I told him, “I want to sleep with him more often, like during the week, but I’m not sure how to talk to him about it I guess.”

“he’s going to be there tonight, ruby,” my guy friend said, “I can talk to him for you if you want.”

the room was spinning a little. fuck. he was going to be there? NO ONE TOLD ME THIS? AND NOW I’M ALREADY DRUNK? THE PREGAME IS ALMOST OVER. IT’S ALMOST TIME TO GO AND I AM HAMMER GIRL WASTED.

at the show, I ended up explaining to chimp that it was paaainful to be around him because I get instantly wet just from looking at him, and having to be around him is sexual torture when I’m not having sex with him. despite this invitation, he was weird to me the rest of the night (later to be explained to me, by him, as “playing hard to get.” UM WTF since when do you play games with a fuck buddy? THERE IS NO ROOM FOR GAMES IN SEXUAL CAMARADERIE, BRO)….

by the time I left I was furious. I put myself out there and had been drowning all week in desire over this douche, and he just goes and, you know, acts like a big dumb dick, like the show was actually interesting enough that no effort be laid down for a foundation to get …laid down later on.

I think he could sense that my immature anger of him not throwing himself at me the next time we all went out with our group of friends, because we avoided each other for most of the night, and when I think he tried to come over to me, I started dancing with one of his friends (but comeee onnnn, dancing is harmless and I didn’t even really realize he was coming in my direction…)

he ended up hitting on an acquaintanceship/somewhat friend of mine. like in some unrealistic movie, I walked into the room RIGHT as he kissed her. and apparently that’s all they did, but of course, like in some bad movie, I stopped dead in my tracks like oh shit please don’t see me standing right here at this exact worst moment, went and grabbed Amber, and we left. I was pissed. like, okay, now when I don’t throw myself at you, you act with immature vengeance? come on buddy. he is so obsessed with his own pride, it’s sick.

I’m done, I’m done, I’m done, I drunkenly told myself, and Amber. Never-a-fucking-gain.

If I hadn’t have been so wasted, maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry. I mean, after all, there were no feelings involved, and there had been no exclusive agreement. I guess I just expected him to come to me before trying out something new at the same event I was at; we both agreed that our sex together is amazing. and I was there. I would have said yes, yes, yesyesyesyes.

but instead the only thing I got in my mouth that night was a piece of pizza, and the only person who got into my bed was Amber, who soothed me to sleep with kind words, trying to defuse all my drunken rage turned sadness over the situation.

I was done with chimp, I told myself.

…oh, but I was so not done.

this had to stop, I told myself; if I slept with him again, I had the feeling it would begin to become more and more of a sick game. an endless invasion of our egos, a constant silent yelling match about who cared less.

I should have listened to my gut instead of my future hormones.

but more on that later.

(to be continued)

regards,

ruby.

by the title, I bet what is to be expected is an entry about some crazy, wild, raging sexual experiences, filled with random equipment and in-depth descriptions of every dirrrty detail.

but this is a little bit different.

it’s about a date.

yeah, that’s new to me.

as aforementioned, I am not a relationship person. I truly mean this. it’s not “grrrl omg i dun need a mannn, now lemma go drank alone in the bathroom and cry omg HASHTAG: FOREVER ALONE~” …. no. I value my independence, and have experienced a long term relationship and many variations of other forms of informal relationships, and I just can’t do it at this point in my life. I don’t get attached, and I’m sober and realistic about love (do I scream child-of-divorce? because I am one). I’m 20. I’m young. right now, like drake, I’m doin’ me. figuratively speaking of course. that’s the way I’ve always thought.

but then, I have this guy friend. let’s call him sugar glider. sugar glider and I have been friends for a couple of years, and an old friend of his from high school joined university late and moved in with him. I met said friend of sugar glider’s this august, briefly; let’s call him panda bear. I didn’t think too much of him at first.

then, so far in this academic year, panda bear and I have had increasing sexual tension. I don’t think it’s ever been so blatant with a person in my life. we will be sober, standing in a hallway on campus after having just bumped into each other.. and it’s this force. intense, locked eye contact. it’s how we invade each other’s space. it’s just undeniable in every sense.

and this year, we’d go out with our friends and we could never really keep our hands off of each other— and yet we wouldn’t hook up. as much as I couldn’t deny my attraction to him, I was mostly content with my situation with my (somewhat on-and-off) friends-with-benefits — who we shall refer to as chimp. am I confusing you yet with all the names? :/ more on chimp later — that’s a collection of stories leading up to a much wilder conclusion than this one.

anyway, I never slept with panda bear, even though we came soclose and made out once on the dance floor before I ran away drunkenly. somewhere along the way, this funny thing happened; we got to know each other. if we are going to hook up at this point, I told myself, I just have this feeling it’s going to be in a more serious situation.

and sure enough, last weekend Amber and myself threw a party — and panda bear asked me on a date.

so, I did something very unlike me last night, and went on said date. a DATE. me. I don’t even know.

and it was easy. it was nice. it was fun. he behaved like a gentleman if I ever knew one. and we talked, and talked and talked and talked. one thing about me, I just about never shut up. but I love getting other people to talk, especially about what makes them tick, what their dreams are, what they’re into, how they see the world, etc. so, someone as talkative and curious as panda bear is a good “match” for me, conversationally.

in the middle of our date, our lovely monthly-friend paid me a visit. I think you get what I’m saying.

but panda bear is so sexy. he’s sexy because of everything that he is, but also, I mean, the guy is VERY easy-on-the-eyes. and muscular. and rugged handsome. okay, stop me, I’m gonna float off into fantasyland in my mind.

I wanted to see his and sugar glider’s place after all the drinking and talking for hours then walking around downtown (he gave me his jacket and made sure to walk on the outside of me at all time - wtf chivalry EXISTS?). when we got to the door of his apartment, he stopped me, leaned in, and I rested against the wall. he’s a good kisser. knows what he’s doing.

we got inside, watched some youtube videos of kittens and then started making out. (sugar glider had just gone to bed, so we didn’t get to say hi)

ruby, remember..your monthly fucking “gift,” don’t be stupid here… I had to tell myself, don’t let this go too far and then have to stop and say — but okay, teeennn more minutes.

we moved to his bedroom. ruby, what are you doing? hands gliding over each other’s bodies, lips locking and smiling and laughing in between. everything felt natural, easy. but ruby, remember… SHUT UP BRAIN!!

“okay,” I stopped, as I was straddling him, still fully clothed. I started pulling his pants down, “only doing things to you. you’re not doing anything to me.”

“you…have your period, don’t you?” he asked,

“yep.”

“you don’t need to, I mean we can just go to bed if you want, keep talking or whatever, I’m good with anything.”

pfft as if I’m gonna let a guy as nice as this off that easy.

I took him into my mouth. he is a nice size; I was pleased. and after licking everywhere, I took him all the way in. I could feel it pushing deep within my throat, as deep as I could make it, over and over again. he was pleasantly surprised and vocalized his opinion on my ..abilities. he tried to touch me more, but I kept reminding him.

“over the panties,” he said, as he began stroking my clit over my lacy thong. now, usually this is kind of pointless. I’m pretty weird: I usually only get off on penetration. but somehow, he did it for me. my feet went numb.

I made him cum and swallowed it back, making sure to get every bit in my mouth. and there we were, relaxed and laying together, ready for sweet slumber.

in the morning we kissed a lot, he made me breakfast, we hung out with sugar glider in their living room and they played guitar for me (swoonsville). the only thing that weirds me out is their friendship; they’re a little too close. I know that panda bear is very sexually open, and I have been subjected to an odd love-triangle before where the two guys were hooking up and I didn’t know. so I’ll keep that in mind. maybe I’m paranoid, but maybe I’m on to something.

panda bear drove me home and walked me to the door step. “do this again sometime?” he said, and I nodded, and we kissed, which turned into a lot more kissing, until he finally drove off.

I know that this thing with panda bear could actually turn into something “real.”

but I know myself, and I know that I’m such a commitment-phobe, and am so used to being on my own and being so free, that I could really mess this up. and there’s still a lingering situation with my former friends-with-benefits chimp — and uh, one of his friends. but we’ll get to that. hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.

regards,

ruby.

when I met Amber on campus at our university, we connected right away. alike in many ways, we both have similar views about many things in life — including sex. with each other, we are both very candid, very open, and very uncensored. we have had close friends overhear our conversations and get uncomfortable or freaked out. we don’t feel ashamed that we enjoy sex. women are allowed to enjoy all the pleasures of the erotic world, and we embrace it. I would never refer to Amber or myself as a “slut.” that’s an ugly and hateful word, and doesn’t belong to strong women with (mostly) good intentions. we are real girls with real thoughts, real feelings, real beliefs, and — sometimes to our frustration — real, ragin’ hormones. 

as for my so-called “love” life, I’m not a relationship person at all; I enjoy my freedom and independence way too much. my longest relationship was completely unenjoyable emotionally; the sex was the only thing that dragged me back every time, unfortunately. more on that later. for now, let’s call him vulture for now. if you remember for later, good. if not, don’t worry, I will remind you.

things that I will not need to remind you of eventually are my sexual tendencies. you will find that Amber shares many of the traits and tendencies I’m about to associate with myself: I can be sadistic, I am open to trying pretty much anything if it feels right, I do happen to enjoy giving oral a lot, and I definitely get some random girl crushes — but I haven’t really acted on them.

this blog is going to be uncensored and brutally honest. I’m always writing all over everything, all the time. I am an incessant journal-er; my thoughts leak out all over my notes in class, seep out through the notepad function in my phone, or get poured out into my actual, jam-packed journal. I know that this blog will receive judgment, but it’s nice for me to have my writing read at all, even if it is only specific to this kind of content. and I think it will be a fun outlet. I am naturally curious about all the wonders of the world, so for anyone else who likes a some “TMI” infused blogging, keep reading! 

xoxo gossip girl.

just kidding.

regards,

ruby.