Elliot smith killed himself, knife to the heart. I am unexpectedly emotional, celebrity suicides not usually moving me, war not even moving me as much as it should. I had two beers and a smoke, listening to his music while contemplating his art and death, feeling poetic but not writing anything grand, journal laid open on my lap sitting by the speakers, ashtray on the floor beside me. After listening to the one album I own, I could only put on Cat Power's "You Are Free" afterwards, needing something soft and dark and potent. Her lyrics saying: "come along for/ a direct hit on the senses you’re misdirected/ its not that its bad/ its not that it’s dead/ its just that its on the tip of your tongue and its so silent." And who the hell knows what that means, music having the ability to take liberties that writing can never, but when you hear it you understand.

The whole while sex is flowing through my veins. A dark sexual artistic mind about me. And I feel again that sex is such a potent form of art I could live for it. I could study it forever; I could do everything, over and over again. There is something about dark sex that satisfies me so- artistically. Pain, desire, desperation, ecstasy. The wanting of sex personifies life. The striving and the consuming love. The power. The childhood of being wrapped in arms. The motherhood of holding in arms. The conquest of you by me. The beauty of your colonization. The beauty of my corruption, my uncivilization by you, the new world, my flimsy excuse to become feral, my becoming wild again. The mestiso culture of our interbeing. Does this not encompass what it is to live? The bastard child of our love, the wild mind of our sexual unraveling, the knife to the heart of our nakedness combined. Despite all my cynicism I still believe we live an enchanted life. Haunted by all our pretty darkness.

I believe you know what I mean.

- posted by Zoe @ 8:34 PM

 
How I masturbate

My traditional masturbation fantasies have taken on new variations. I've been stuck on this secretary theme for maybe two years now. At some point I realized I was the man in the fantasy, only becoming the woman in the last seconds before orgasm. The secretary is usually female, usually Asian, I am rather embarrassed to say. As what people would consider a left wing radical, I still don't feel comfortable with my fetishization of ethnicity. If I didn't believe in total sexual freedom within the bounds what is safe, consensual, and not involving minors, I would feel very judgmental towards myself about this. As it is I feel embarrassed. But here it is for posterity! I fetishise Asian females, well, Asians in general. At least in recent years. Someone should slap me, preferably a gay Asian male.

For your information, I masturbate exclusively with my right middle finger on my clit rubbing in a clockwise direction and a toy in my pussy with rapid g-spot rhythmic pressure. No real thrusting. Further, no one else can ever rub my clit right. I can't even use a different finger. I am convinced my body has become accustomed to the precise fingerprint on that finger and nothing else will do. One must be their own best friend, mustn't one? I almost always do it lying down in bed, anywhere from once a week to three times a day.

Sometimes the secretary is in a corporate office and I'm her boss. (Ok, often her Black male boss... keep in mind in real life I'm basically a White American female.) Sometimes she's the receptionist for some kind of BDSM dungeon playhouse, perhaps inspired by Roissy (or however you spell it) in The Story of O (an early bad influence in my life.) In the office my secretary wears short skirts and fitted suit jackets. She has an extreme hourglass figure due to me forcing her to wear a corset. Her tits are big because I have forced her into lactation by having a male sub suck each breast for half an hour twice a day every day. Her ass and pussy are locked up in a chastity device available only to me. As the receptionist at the house she doesn't wear much clothing over her corset and stockings.

Her duties as a secretary require her not only to greet customers and type things, but also to entertain my guests or business associates, to keep her body trained as I like it with milky tits and lubricated and loose but toned asshole. As a condition of her employment, the girl must take my cock in her ass as many times a day as I like. I need to fuck a girl in the ass at least four times a day just so I can work. Who doesn't?

Usually I fuck my girl bent over her desk, with some lube kept handy in the top drawer. I also like to take her into the bathroom and handcuff her to the towel rack while I fuck her ass while she stands teetering on high heals, her black thigh-high stockings and garters framing her perfect butt. I pinch her tits and make milk run down her chest while I do it. Best of all, I've trained her to cum on my cock with no other stimulation, as a sign of gratitude for my use of her. She may act embarrassed and even frightened, but she can't help cumming for me anyway. And when I orgasm at this point in the fantasy, I am her, with sweet hot milk running down my body and tears running down my smooth olive-colored cheeks as I cum on his cock despite my shame.

I ran out of energy to tell you about the new variations on this fantasy. More about that later.

- posted by Zoe @ 9:47 PM

 
There's a survey/study of bi and poly people here.
- posted by Zoe @ 12:00 AM

 
What I love about anal sex: interview 1

This is an interview with a 25 year old cross-dresser in the UK I chat with sometimes. He looks exceptionally beautiful in a bustier and crotchless panties, what with his delicate figure, long legs, and shaved-smooth body. This is a slightly edited cut and paste from our chat.

so, why do you like things in your ass, sissy boy?
or arse, as the case may be

hmmm...
i'll not argue with a mistress on spelling!

good girl!

for me it's mainly a dominance thing, and a signifier of feminisation
but it can also feel very nice

does it humiliate you?

to an extent, yes -- submitting your ass is letting her do something many people would be ashamed of
i like the aspect of being treated like a girl too

does the fact that it is associated in most peoples minds with homosexuality erotic for you in any way? I mean, does this add to the eroticism or humiliation or gender-crossing?

hmmm... for me, i think no, as the idea of being fucked in the ass by a man doesn't really appeal
i think it's more, for me, a role reversal thing, connected with heterosexual intercourse

I see, very interesting

you are doing wonders to enlighten the world about one of the great mysteries of life, senorita

lol
if you say so!

do you like anal play only as part of cross dressing? or other times too?

oh, other times too, yes
they go well together, i find, but they don't have to be linked to be exciting

ok. And do you like to fuck girls that way too? or only to recieve anal?

yeah, sure, i enjoy it both ways
but only if she actually enjoys it

right
is there anything you would like to add?

well... i think a lot of people don't explore this because they associate it with homosexuality. it's kind of stuck with old attitudes, i feel.

I agree
now, why dont you take me to your webcam and show me your pussy, pretty lady

of course mistress


- posted by Zoe @ 11:44 AM

 
Gayboy and I went to our enclave high in the dunes again today. My partner was shocked when I set the alarm for 6 AM the second week in a row, and I was surprised to see how the world looked at dawn.

I met him at the specified location near his apartment, we got coffee and my lunch, and then we headed through a primordial swamp and forest into the high dunes. My car still had the beach blanket in it from the week before, and we lay it down where it had been the time before. Our old footprints were still there in the sand.

Afterwards now, his marks are still on my breasts from where he sucked them while he masturbated himself to climax next to me. His first time masturbating in front of someone, masturbation being one of my favorite aspects of sex. This time was very relaxed and dreamlike for me, beginning with a long snuggle and lots of talk and caresses. Ending with me pulling his balls down and digging in with my newly-cut fingernails, slapping his cock, pinching and flicking it. I watched his face as he winced and moaned and wanted more.

Over the four hours we were there the sun came out through the mist and disappeared again. We enjoyed a lot of silence and eye contact, and later on it rained the first rain of the season.

I had my own hand in my pants too, and when I took it out and rinsed off the bright red menstrual blood with my water bottle onto the sand beside our blanket, I watched his face. I was nervous for him to see my blood. Afraid that the reality of my femaleness would finally be too much for him, that it would make us estranged. But if he was put off I couldn't tell, I only know he isn't scared of me.
- posted by Zoe @ 8:27 PM

 
My gay boy has a new blog of the erotic variety. Not much in it yet, but if I have anything to do with it there will be.
- posted by Zoe @ 9:34 PM

 
Dreams Coming True

I'm drinking red wine and eating chocolate cake to celebrate. Today a long-dreamed dream was made real. I laid a gay boy.

And I mean gay. 10 year long relationship with a man, gay. 6 years without a woman, gay. Gay I can feel, even though he's butch.

And I mean laid. Cock-in-pussy, het style. It was among the most transgressive sex I've had. When I heard him moan when he went in I knew it had been so long since the last time he'd done it, he must have been practically a different person then. Almost like having a virgin, though we are not so young anymore. When he went in, behind me as he was, I knew I did not look like a boy with my ass in the air. No, not at all.

And I was not like a boy when I was straddling his face and he wrapped his arms around my legs and would not let me up, and I said "do you like eating pussy, gay boy?" He nodded silently, his mouth full of me.

We've seen each other a few times now. We have met about twice weekly, each of us having a serious partner we're committed to, mine male, his male. Both of our partners are in favor of our getting together, we're not cheating. There's nothing wrong about it.

And I love how willingly he offers me his ass. A little wanton, if you ask me, which is how I like it.

- posted by Zoe @ 10:20 PM

 
I was just reading through Geek Slut. A gay man's sex diary. Its nice if you like the nitty-gritty of gay sex, as I do. Why I do, as a woman, is beyond me. It's in the same category as any other fetish I might or might not have.

More interestingly, writing this, I am struck again by how hard it is to say anything original about sex. Even for me. Its almost as difficult as having anything interesting to say about anything, anymore, now that theres the internet and everyone is saying everything I always say all the time, at any given moment. Do I have a fresh take on sex worth sharing or not?

Today I was at work, teaching children. I was helping them with an art project, and they were wild 'cause it was friday at five-o-clock. As restless as hungry customers at a restaurant. I had to understand this and make a place for them where they could be wild children at 5-o-clock on friday who did not want to sit down or be quiet.

I thought about how faciliating an activity with a group of children is like making love. I thought about how you have to be present and read the energy level of others and think of what others need. I thought of how you have to abandon your expectations and open your heart to the moment. I thought of how you have to love people for who they are, how ever imperfect. I decided that every act in life can be an act of lovemaking and that perhaps the highest level of morality is to be a good lover.

Be a good lover. Love without reserve. Love well, with focus and skill. Be an ambitous lover, I thought, your goal being to devistate anything in your path, nothing the same after you.

This in every act of love, everything being an act of love.
- posted by Zoe @ 10:30 PM

 
Youre perfect, he says, and I know its true. For this moment I am, for once in this life perfect. But thats not why I do it. I do it out of a desire beyond emotional fulfillment. I am as though posessed in my focus. It is unlike any other need.
- posted by Zoe @ 10:02 PM

 
I had to look up the definition of postmodern to see if I understood it correctly. Merriam-Webster online did not have the current definition, having last updated the entry in 1949. The net was a better resource, and I found a lovely explanation here, which turned out to be more informative than my entire college education.
- posted by Zoe @ 12:00 PM