Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.March 4, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on January 13, 20122:21 A.M.
Henry came over Monday night. He brought me a flower – a white rose with baby’s breath and all that. We got high and then for a little bit we just layed [sic] and cuddled. And then he touched me. His hands all over me pressing and massaging. And when he finally got to my breasts. It felt so good. So good to have his hands on me exploring my body. Then we slowed down and rested for a while. Then he wanted me to take a shower with him but I just couldn’t. He seemed very irritated as well he should have – I know I would’ve been. I’m just really shy about my own body and especially about looking at his. I know I’ll only get over this fear by confronting it but I’m not ready yet. I’m not even ready to admit my real reason to someone else. I told him that showering with someone was a really intimate and personal thing and that even though I should be because we had already shared quite a bit, I wasn’t ready. Which, actually sort of is true.
So he told me to take off my clothes. I complied and layed [sic] down on the bed. I could hear him removing his garments and got excited. He slid under the covers next to me and pressed his warm, naked body to mind. His hands explored my body from behind until I turned onto my back so he could have more of me, so I could feel what he had to give me. His hand found its way between my thighs and dipped into my wetness. It was a relief to finally have something inside me.
[I haven't given myself over to him completely yet. I'm afraid to become to dependent on him and he'll grow to resent me. What's sad is I can see it happening – me suffocating him into running. But I don't want to, I just get so scared that I'll be alone. I haven't come with him yet because I think that would mean he's gotten inside me – to my soul – and will know how to hurt me.]
He pushed his fingers deep into my cunt and twisted and turned his and so I could feel his power. While his fingers were inside me, I reached down to my clit. Everything was so wet and hot. He licked at me and then pushed his cock into me. Oh my god. I told him to talk to me. He said he felt so good inside me, that he wanted to get deeper. I could barely talk but to swear to god I had never felt that way. And I hadn’t. Maybe it was the pot but I don’t really care because it felt so damn good. The whole time I kept thinking about how huge he felt inside me, so big filled me up. I could have died at that moment a very satisfied woman. I got the usual pangs to tell him I love him but held out once again.
February 26, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on December 03, 201112:31 P.M.
I would rather not go to work ’cause it’s such a nice day. I feel like calling in sick so I can lay out. But I can never lay out again unless I want to look old before my time. Why does Henry think it’s alright not to call me during the week? We’re supposed to do something Saturday but I’m not holding my breath, just hoping. I don’t know what to wear. I have to leave soon.
February 16, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on November 16, 20118:59P.M.
We had a nice time. I cooked stuffed shells and we also had French bread and salad. I made a cheesecake but forgot to give any to Henry. I just had some, however, and it was quite good. I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, it felt really nice. He finally brought me my t-shirt – I’m a true fan now. After we ate, we had sex, and then we cuddled. It was nice and romantic. His-uh-well, it wasn’t my imagination, it does go the wrong way. But who cares, it doesn’t matter to me. It still works. And the rest of him has its merits too. I asked him what purpose I serve for him. He said, “You keep me sane.” Oh god, where have I heard that before? That’s just what I need. Or actually not what I need ’cause I probably don’t need it but I want it. So I asked what he likes about me. He likes the way I think – that I’m so open minded. And he likes it when I touch him. I wanted to hear about my looks so I asked if he thought I was a dog. He told me not to be stupid but sill didn’t give me any compliments though I did like the other ones. Oh, and he told me that Blanca told him that Bill was scared at first too. He’s afraid of missing out on his friends. But I don’t think I ever let on that I wanted to monopolize his time and I said as much. I told him I’d like to go out more and it doesn’t necessarily have to cost money. why is it that I always to tell the person I’m having sex with that I love them? Oh well he called to say good night and I asked what he meant about the sane thing. I make him feel comfortable; he can be himself around me. That’s so wonderful. He does need me. I forgot to ask him to call me his little girl. I love his voice and his face. He looks so cute when he smiles.
February 12, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on November 09, 201110:15 A.M.
Why doesn’t anyone call me? The phone has not rung since night before last. The rain just keep coming. I want to spend a rainy day in bed with Henry. The sound of the rain outside and the warm body next to me inside. It’s so dark in here, like a cave. School was alright – the class is going to be easy and Thursday’s class is taught by the same teacher so there won’t be much difference. It’s raining so damn hard. I want to either take Henry out to dinner or cook for him and I want him to be my Valentine. I haven’t asked yet so I don’t know if he’s spoken for so I’d better get my ass in gear. Wouldn’t it be cute to give him a card over dinner? I want to give him a present but he’s hard to shop for. Something personal but what? He doesn’t really war jewelry, I don’t think clothes are close enough, what else? The only thing I’ve thought of so far is a Zippo lighter with his initials on it. But still it doesn’t seem right. God, his birthday is over a moth away and I’m already stressed. If I ask now, wil he suspect? Probably, he’s not stupid.
February 11, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on October 20, 20118:30 A.M.
He asked me what I would say if he asked me to marry him. I almost died. That is so sweet. So my romantic side said yes. The practical side had absolutely no say. I told him that I’m so scared because I can feel myself falling and I know what it’s leading to. I said that I was going to love him – I told him that. It must’ve been the rain that made me talk. He said he wants to get to know me better still. Talking about wary. This thing he wants to talk about so bad in person so he can see my reaction is driving me crazy. HE brought it up again last night but refuses to tell me over the phone. However, I got two hints – it’s in his head (which one I’m not quite sure) and he’s had it for a long time and hopefully I can be part of the solution. I guess that’s kind of three but he thinks he only gave me two. He wouldn’t tell me what it had to do with ’cause then I’d know what it was – he said. Does it have to do with sex? God, and he has to know how dam curious I am. Maybe he’s uncomfortable ’cause he doesn’t know everything there is to know about the anatomy and the pleasing of a woman. If it’s something that simple then I’ll laugh. Hell, I can show him all that. We don’t even have a chance to see each other until Friday so I have to wait and guess. He’s so damn stubborn too. I begged, I pleaded, I threatened to withhold (not in exact words but I believe he got the general idea) but still he would not budge. I kind of respect that; I wish I were immovable but if certain people look at me in certain ways, I’ll do anything. Of course Henry’s one of those people but I don’t want him to know yet.
I wonder if I should tell him about my sexual obsession. Well, he knows about the visual part of it by the stuff I have at my house but I don’t think he has any idea about the physical. I like sex, a lot. I’d give up food for sex. If I had my choice, I’d have sex at least once a day, sometimes more. The thought sometimes grosses me out but doing it more than makes up for that; I like the skin touching skin, the heavy breathing, the sweating. But I get this way more so for someone I care about. The sex is so much better; more personal, more raw. I let the other person see more of me; know the real me while clothes are striped away and nothing is guarded. Should I tell him what he’s in for? I think it’d be only fair.
10:08 A.M.
Just remembered. I asked Henry what he wants from me. Help. That seems to perfect for me. To mother him, to let him grow and change. Yet it worries me too. There will be a point when he won’t need my help anymore and I’ll have to let him go. But hopefully that won’t be for a while. I asked if I helped him, could I get what I need from him? He said yes, probably, most likely, yes. But what do I need? Love, caring, someone to be there for me. I like it when he calls me a little girl and when he says my name. His voice so deep and smooth. After I told him that I’m going to love him I got a tight feeling in my chest. He said he felt “funny.” I find it interesting that just by saying something or hearing it, it can be measured physically. Love, or whatever this is now, is wonderful. More of me wants this so bad than that little part that wants to run. It’s been two years since I’ve felt this way but now it seems more pure. I don’t feel nearly as much insecurity or competition.
February 10, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on October 15, 20117:34P.M.
Henry said he’d come over tonight but who knows. I’ve been trying to call him at work but he phone’s been busy and now I finally got through and some girl answered. Could have been anyone but no one I wanted to talk to. He probably won’t call at all tonight and I don’t have any other night free ’cause I start school tomorrow night. And he makes me so mad. To think I was going to call to apologize for nagging all the time about him being a flake. And I’m still hopeful, dammit. I imagine what it’ll be like when he’s here. How it will feel to touch him and kiss him and hold him. Why do I let this happen? I just want to surrender everything to him and he doesn’t even want it.
February 9, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on September 26, 20119:47pm
Henry was supposed to come over today but he was too tired ’cause he did acid last night. So we talked seriously some more. Wow. I’m actually telling him stuff that I’ve been thinking about for a long time. Like the fact that I blush and get flustered around him. And that I could see myself taking care of him, that I think he’s high on my priority list, that I just want to tell him how to feel and what to want – but only because I’m so frustrated. He said he’s never told anyone any mushy stuff. He thinks he’s the only one who feels the way he does and that he’s very inexperienced for someone his age. He thinks that I’m doing all the relationship things right. We’re both the same – both waiting for the other one to make the first move and neither one very worldly when it comes to relationships. I wanted to tell him that I could love him and I want him to love me. We’re talking so much and he keeps saying that we have a lot more talking to do. But I’m getting scared. We’re talking about feelings and getting vulnerable, opening ourselves up to be hurt. He asked me what he could do to show me that he cares. And he said he wanted me. It’s raining very hard. I hope it’s raining tomorrow night when Henry’s here ’cause I like to have sex while it’s raining. And it’s so loud, how exciting. I want to have sex outside in the rain sometime when it’s warm. He said that if he commits, he’s afraid he’s going to miss something. How do I get myself in these messes? But I think I can get him to see things my way – I hope I’m just so afraid I’m going to tell him everything and he won’t care. Part of me wants to run and hide. Just get the hell out before it’s too late. But I don’t want to be alone forever so I have to take a chance.
