badgirlmeat

Next in line - the other blog

Apologies but this one is just straight forward. No feelings, no emotion. The only thing that was really clear was that I was not attracted to him in the slightest. He runs the blog I shoot stories for. Its all Hip Hop and fun and games until the tragic end of the night when everyone realises that they are as fucked up as each other and go home to the comfort of their Nintendos, Biggie Smalls and eventually bed. No matter how many kicks you own, someone will own more. No matter how much coke you do, someone will always expect you to share.

This guy is actually my friend. Yes, he is hugely annoying but a good friend. I feel mean, but this blog is about truths and so let me pour out truth. You don’t know or care who I am. And neither do I…

I think he thought that it was coming for a while and some friends of mine had suggested it. Honestly, I had never ever thought that I would go home with him. I see his weaknesses and this is a turn off.

I was out searching for a cheap thrill. I found it. After being out with police friends all night (literally) I thought it was kind of fitting. I told him if he bought me a drink I would go home with him. So we did.

I’d been to his house before, in fact I helped him move his bed in. I’m not the ‘help a friend move a bed in’ type. I guess I was when I did. What I hadn’t counted on was that my cheap thrill was not what I thought it was. I had just taken two acid trips. Things were about to get interesting.

We sat there on his bed, watching TV. It was about 4am. He told me to hurry up and get my clothes off. Maybe he thought that talking dirty to me would have some kind of sexual affect. Didn’t. I wasn’t even the slightest bit interested, but I went through the motions. It was a pounding. Then the acid kicked in. I laughed my way into his pillow and then got up to have a chat to his veggie patch. No sexual innuendo.

Then I called my housemate to come and collect me. She kindly obliged and I spent the day at home on a epic mission to find the air conditioning remote. 

Virtual insanity

I want to write about it. Every passionate moment, they way he spoke to me whilst we… Everything he said was perfect. It hurts to run through it again in my head, but I still do it everyday. Friends say that I am crazy. I don’t even know anymore. It’s been over a month since I saw him last. The Cypress guy. This one is not a boy. This one was so, so, so intriguing. I still want him. I want him to be it, the one. Whatever the one is.

Sometimes I don’t even know if I want him to be the one. I know that there is some serious shit going down. 

We met up, he took me out. We made love. He was so amazing. He told me about his life. The things he shared have haunted me ever since. I cannot get it out of my head. Then he vanished.

My new obsession, I now know a lot more than he would know that I know. This is not about him. It is now about her. What happened to her? It has now all exploded. All over the media, his family speaks to cameras. I see his eyes in their eyes. His eyes in his sister’s eyes. It hurts. It hurts me but their hurt is so much more. It’s not my business but I am obsessed. I’m not sure if I am digging too deep. Well, that is a lie. I am. It is not right. Or maybe it is exactly what it is supposed to be. 

I cannot write anymore. Not yet. I’m hanging on. My friends say I am crazy but as I sat there in my car last night, doing something a cannot even write about on here, I was in two minds. Two minds - maybe that’s it. Madness. 

Cypress Hill #1

I always over indulge. Go too far, do too much, say too much, think too much, want too much. Excessive. Racy. Fun. (This time)

Turned out to be the greatest concert I ever went to. Stayed true to form and genre and made the most of the occasion. In this haze I got a little familiar, a little friendly and flirtatious with the crowd. A sea of people who were all there see the same thing, I caught their eye, grasped their hands and held on to the ones I wanted more. They wanted me too, this is why it is fun. In this little game I always win - this time was no different.

I don’t recall grabbing his hand, or maybe I do. I do recall his eyes. I remember thinking that he fit the build and was worthy of a grasp. I was distracted by my own self-absorbed bubble of fun, was so deep into the music. I was so happy to be there, just me, dancing, smiling, laughing, cheering. It was the best that I had felt, well - since last time, I guess.

He grabbed my hand from behind and I turned to see those eyes again, from under his black cap and out from within the black hoodie. This guy was totally Cypress, he belonged here, far more than I did. 

“Did you grab my hand before?” 

I looked him up and down. Yeah, he was fine. He was even fine-er given that he had followed up on my random squeeze. I told him that I had and that I thought he was incredibly good looking. I may have stretched the truth slightly, all part of the fun. It was carefree and I knew that I had him. I worked it a bit and we went outside for a cigarette, he could tell I was incredibly happy. I was. I gave him my number, he gave me his. We went back inside and dispersed through the crowd.

Back to my bubble, back to the music, the smiles, the laughing and the happy. I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He waved me over. I pushed through the crowd to get to him. No one else mattered. I wrapped my hands around his neck, up to his face and touched his lips with my fingers. We kissed and I turned around. His hands were all over my body, I reached behind me and felt his muscular chest as he pushed it into my back. Hands on my breast, my hands down his pants. In through the fly, I wrapped my hand around his penis, it was long and hard. I thought it was fair game. To be proven wrong later. We danced like this for a while in the hazy darkness of the crowd. He bit my neck and pulled me away from him, I knew what was happening. I smiled and slipped away. He said he’d call me. 

After the concert it was back to the hotel room. I messaged Alejandro. Stupid move. He turned me down. I wanted someone, anyone. Out of the blue a sweet Colombian boy I had met the week before messaged me. It was on. He was on his way to the hotel when I noticed that the guy from the crowd had tried to call. Too late now, I brushed him off and met Colombian in the foyer.

Back to my house in a cab, his hands all over me. Out of the car (he paid, nice gesture), up the stairs and quietly into my room. Light off. He gently, yet forcefully slams me up against the wall. Kissing me all down my neck, lifts my dress. I pull my stockings off and push him onto the bed. It continues on like this and we make love, I was too out of it to remember. It must have been ok. 

I wake to the light through my blinds. He pulls himself out of bed and puts his clothes on without making eye contact. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Once dressed, he reaches down and kisses me. “Thank you” he says in broken English and he leaves the room. The door closes and I realise that I don’t know his name. I also realise that I don’t care. I’m glad that he left straight away. Easier this way. I know I’ll never see him again and this is marvelous. 

So what am I supposed to do now that you’ve gone?

This was never supposed to be about love, or falling in love. It is, and will continue to be about a woman expressing honesty about sexuality.

A woman who is trying to make her way through this life. A woman who is comfortable with having sexual relationships with men that are supposed to mean nothing. 

THIS IS HARD

New York has left, he has left me heart broken. The night before he went to the airport he took me out to dinner. It was the first time we had talked properly. Sex talk does not count. His piercing eyes continued to read me, this time it meant more, he told me the the old version of himself would have given up his NY dreams to stay here with me. I told him that this was all I wanted him to say. 

We made love all night, yes love, not fucking. In between we stopped and talked. Earlier he had asked me what it was that I was attracted to, what did I see in him? I had avoided the question, as I generally try to avoid emotions. As we lay there, face to face, he stared through my eyes and into my soul. This time I felt it. He cut me. I told him that it was this look. I asked him what he saw…He said that he saw someone who is happy, but also a little sad. My heart stopped. 

A little sad. Do we all have a little sadness inside of us? How can I find this little sadness and flesh it out so that it will go away?

Saying goodbye to him was hard. I wanted to pretend that it did not affect me and tried to play it cool. Epic fail. Since he has been gone, a week and one day, all I do is think about him. His smile, his perfect skin, his hands holding mine, his eyes reading my soul. We could have been so much. We could have been in love. We could have been soul-mates? We could have been…

A few days ago I sent him this email:

So this is sent and you’re reading it which means risky business won!! She is pretty persuasive ;)

I want to tell you so much, I want to scream out at the sky, I want to say everything exactly the way it should be said.

These days my world is almost perfect. City life is amazing. I walked to work the other day, 15 minutes of sunshine and river. I even almost got sun burnt. 

On the way I stopped at my favourite little shop with the dog-budgie in the window. Turns out they were asking $900 for him. Seemed almost meant to be, the details became irrelevant. The next day he was sold. 

Now he sits in the window with a little red dot next to him, I know that this means he will be leaving soon. Given that I can’t have him I am going to take a photo of him everyday until he leaves. Whenever I miss him or want to admire his perfectly arranged feathers, I will have enough photos to remind me and also help me feel like he may not be that far away. Not really sure if  I am doing this because I don’t trust my memory or if it is just another whimsical distraction. Either way, $900 was way out of my league right now and there are so many other things surrounding me (including me) that I should be focusing on. Who was I kidding?

I guess I thought that somethings cannot and should not be given a dollar value and in life the greatest things happen when one takes risks. Money is far less deserving. Somethings are better left behind? (maybe). Still unsure but I do know that dog-budgie will always, always make me smile. I know that having him in my world added so much, beyond anything he could ever imagine. Whilst he sat there looking out at me from behind that glass, my fascination for his combination forced me to think about things I tried to avoid. Like why he was so incredibly appealing. Why does he conjure and motivate my passion for life? Why is it that even with everything racing about in my world, dog-budgie makes me stop, reflect and rethink things? 

How is it that even with all of this worldly craziness going on, most moments, the only thing I want, care to and seem to think about is a little dog covered in budgie feathers?

You were so good to me Mr. XXX and I really, really miss you.

X

He never replied.

I was heartbroken.

A few days later he popped up on FB chat “Hi there Pretty Thing”. For that moment my world was alright again. But it faded and the fact that I could be so easily affected by a simple flirtacious comment cemented to me that I was in too deep. He will never come back to live here and as much as I would love to jet over to NYC, it won’t be happening anytime soon.

Tonight he popped up again with “I loved your email but I don’t know how to respond”. I told him that I didn’t know how to respond to that comment and that my email was never about getting him to respond. It was about telling him something. It was time.

I told him that I needed to let go and that this meant disconnecting him from my world. I said my final good byes and blocked him from Facebook, deleted him from my Skype contact list and Unfollowed him on Twitter. 

I then cried, and cried and cried. Then I cried some more.

So much for my thick skin, being able to sleep with men and feel nothing. He got me. He got me bad. I know we could have been in love. The worst part about this is that I still think that maybe, just maybe, one day I will be somewhere and we will just randomly bump into each other. We will share that same precious moment that we shared the night before he left. He will take my hand in his left hand and touch my face with his right. I will stare back into his eyes and gently bite my bottom lip as I watch his face light up with his perfect smile. We will kiss and this kiss will seal it. We will fall madly and deeply in love. Everything else will be irrelevant. 

My fear is that next time we meet he will have someone else, or I will move on and forget this feeling. This feeling is truth - at least right now, and letting go of him is gut wrenching. 

Could have been.

Empire state of mind

This one is not only about a new lover, this one is about stereotypes and what we think we are going to experience vs what we do.
We never want to admit to the less PC thougts that run through our minds. Some of mine have just been torn down, ripped with lust, passion and a whole lot of F.A.F (fucking amazing fucking)
In typical fashion, this one was not expected. He’d been trying to get in touch with me for a while, but never assumed it was like that. Don’t know if he planned this, either way I don’t mind. F.A.F
Again an afternoon after work. He came to hang out and drink beer. Typsy promptly I am. We head to a seedy bar. I give the sexy guy behind the bar my number. We head some where nicer. I request some bad ass dub step and rock out alone with the loner DJ. Bored, I hit up my friend to join me else where. Involves the odd stimulant. He agrees.
The next one is a club. On the dance floor with 3D glasses. Some how I realise he has been holding my hand. We kiss. And again. Always the best part.
Outside in the smokers area. So hot that we get asked to leave. It’s on and we head to his.
Inside his room. I loose my clothes quickly. I show him all of my tricks. He says I’m hot. We fuck forever and ever. Must have had some F.A.F karma laying around somewhere for this one. He stares into my soul through my eyes. His eyes are deep and black. His skin is soft. He is beautiful. He is defined. He is small but strong but his penis is perfect. It curls upwards. Conveys a kind of animalistic conciousness- it knows the task, pointed in the right direction. Erection. Fuck.
He is kind and caring and giving. He sucks on my ear lobes. It drives me insane. Over and over and over again. I fuck him, he fucks me. He licks me, I suck him. I only want more and he says that I am amazing. This ones a talker- I’m a talker. This one is perfect. Except.
Fucking is fucking and he is moving on. The big apple calls him and he leaves in 10 days.
10 days turn into 8 and we are at it again. I sneak into his house and we blow each other’s minds. His deep,deep dark eyes. His perfect skin. His kiss. He is beautiful.
Thursday comes around and we plan it out again. He comes out to meet the indies. But as soon as he arrives all I care about is him. His perfect skin. Deep eyes. His smiles takes my breath away. The thought of my mouth biting his lips makes me take a lusty breath. He wears this beanie and it makes him look incredible. Fuck.
We head out, he drives this time. Back to his bed. But this time it wasn’t as amazing. He was amazing and fucking was amazing but something had changed or was missing.
Now I sit and wait it out. Stupidly smitten. Stupidly craving his perfect skin, those deep, soul reading eyes. His lips on my thighs. The sounds he makes when we both acknowledge an amazing thrust. And he takes my breath away.

He leaves in 3 days. It’s for the best. The apple has spoken. He is hooked. In a perfect world, my new amazing would fly me out with him. But that’s not me right now, and don’t know if he’d appreciate my fantastical fantasies. But his eyes pierce my soul. He stares through me as he fucks me. I bite my lips. He drives me wild. Lust is not love. Love does not happen so quickly. Love is not lust and love is a dirty word. Fuck.

Melbourne

So many expectations. I went on a mission. I knew what I wanted and I knew how to get it. The target: One per night, Friday and Saturday.

Friday night.

So incredibly silly. At a club. Can’t believe that I remember this much. I wanted the love drug. I tried to line it up with my smooth charm and it seemed to do the trick. Four, in the hand. One down my bra, one to my friend, Two in the mouth. Double dropped. What an idiot. A few minutes later I find myself awake, in my best friend’s bed. A change of clothes and sunshine. What the hell happened?

Rewind….

Two guys in a club. One white, stocky, typical football/now party with drugs. The other, more my kind: Maori, tall, built. The white guy lined me up - had to show some kind of fleeting loyalty. The Maori was hot. Loyalty? Dancing upstairs, Dancing downstairs. At one stage even dancing in between the two. Oops, yeah that was me. Was on a mission and was half way there. Or two halves there.

Then came the double drop. I am a douche. What a waist of a night, waist of money and waist of two boys. Oh well. All I remember was walking past a 7 Eleven. Flashes of black stairs. My girl told me she carried me down those black stairs after that. Love her.

So, no luck on either fronts then.

Saturday.

Started at this club that was apparently the hottest thing out. So many girls, so many guys, all after one thing. Sex on legs. Sex in between legs. It was time to leave.

Down to a cosy bar. Still on a mission. Sighted some guys in a booth. They sighted us. It was on.

Into the booth. Graphic designer/surfer. Hot. So I thought. Think it was the designer factor. He gave me his card and offered me a job. Said I could take his business to that next level. All talk. 

As the night progressed it became apparent that some of the guys we were hanging out with were apparently slightly famous, you know the type. A little bit of novelty and a whole lot of Coke. Coke off their keys. 5am came around too quickly. It was time to go.

Home with him in a cab. It was so cold outside. Into his house, the sound of my heels on the wooden floor. Into his room. 6 surf boards and a whole lot of high top shoes. Crisp white sheets. Glasses of water and some hip hop. It felt so expected. So rehearsed. Through the motions. This guy was too predictable. I also found out that night that Coke messes with boys in ways that are not good. We fucked for a while. It was just that. Fucking. But the lack of feeling or passion was almost a relief. Unattached, removed. Guess this way is safer? My hands in his hair, curly under his beanie. His hands all over me, but not how I wanted. And then I got bored…

When it was finally over I asked if he wanted me to leave. He gave me props for my bikini wax. I told him that if he was a girl he’d do it too. He agreed. He told me to stay. I told him to pretend he was a sweetheart. He said he was, we spooned and he held me all night. Still no sweetheart.

9am and I am awake. His arms still around me. I roll over and stretch out. The sweetheart was gone - he was pretending like he was still asleep. It was time to go. Walk of shame. I sneak my clothes back on quickly. I know he is awake. I take a few snaps for the little black book. Sneaky. Heels on and out the door. It’s too early for that dress.

On the phone to my girl, grab a cab and pick her up from her lousy one nighter. Both agreed, the night did not live up to expectations. What a laugh. Coffee time and then onto the couch at hers for the full run down.

Wanted Alejandro.

Don’t want no paper gangster - The sex was Hot

Post one. Thou shall not over quote Lady Gaga. Apologies. She makes me hot.

Friday night.

Brown eyes, it is always brown eyes. This one I have wanted for a little while. Lets call him Alejandro. In the heat of this moment.

We work together. I boss him around. He loves it. So do I. We have made out a few times. Always bitey. Always hot. I was never really attracted to him until one night. A club opening, one of our clients. It was time for me to go home, I started kissing the crew goodbye. Started with Alje, as I went to kiss his cheek, he went to kiss mine and our lips met. Just that one time. Didn’t think about it again, until…

Another night, after work. A friends going away. I got too drunk. Licked his face. Repeatedly. I blacked out. Apparently he tried. Apparently I was too drunk to realise. Guess I must have been.

A few weeks ago: drunk again, he and I and some friends. Getting frisky. Was a bit over due. Making out in the corner of a seedy bar. Hot. Hands all up all over each other. A cab ride home. I didn’t want it. I said I did, but I didn’t. We left each other in the taxi. Stupidly I messaged him. As if I wanted him. Didn’t think I did.  He is smaller than the type of guys I am into. I thought it would just get awkward, I thought initially that a smaller guy means smaller anatomy. I thought a younger guy like Alje meant his experience would leave him in a place that I wasn’t interested in. School boy excuses.

After two weeks of trying to get over being weird at work, last Friday happened. Drunk again. Work party again. We left with a group of friends. Went to some clubs. He was trying to be all up on my friends. I knew he was trying to get me to bite. Or trying to make me back the fuck off? Either way it wasn’t necessary. He was annoying the hell out of me. I thought I wanted him to leave. I got all up in my gay friend. Guess this did the trick. He grabbed my hand. He said he was going to leave, wanted me to walk with him.

Making out in another seedy bar. My friends were heading home. We shared a cab again. This time we went to mine, I got my car. He was too scared to come inside the house, thought the other one would catch us out. R Kelly In The Closet.

Driving him home, we pull into a secluded parking lot. It is cold outside. We share a lollipop. He kisses me. I don’t know if I actually want to go ahead with this. I thought it would be awkward. I underestimated him.

Into the back seat, his hands up my shirt, his face in my bust. His tongue all over my nipples. I take my top off.

His kiss is amazing, he bites my lips and sucks a little. I blush, I know I want him. I know he wants me. His hands all over my body. His hands on my crotch. Fuck.

All of a sudden I am chicken shit. Whats happening here? I don’t know if I want this.

Tickling me with his fingers down my pants. Okay so I do want this. I want him. I want to find out what is under his clothes. I reach in, it fills my palm, I wrap my hands around it. Large, warm, hard, hot. I want this.

Unexpectedly he wants to show me what his mouth can do. I thought younger guys weren’t into this, he asks me “Have you done this before?”, poor guy, little does he know that I am an addict. I have had some amazing guy tongue and hands.  Its all I ever want.

I say no. A wax is overdue, not too bad and naturally I am okay but who is this guy? He insists. Turns out he knows what he is doing. Can still see his eyes, his smiles, my hands in his hair, his fingers slip inside me. Fuck.

I can’t stop biting my lips. Relax, it does not mean a thing so why does anything else matter? I let myself go. This guy is amazing. We fuck for what feels like forever. A few hours. The suspension in my little car will never be the same. He likes it better when I am on top. I kiss him, lick him, suck him. He wants it. We do it again and again and again. Fuck.

He asks me before he does things, “Is this alright?”. He cares? He asks me, “Can we do this again?” whilst I fuck him, I bite his cheek and tell him he can have it whenever he wants it. I always give myself away too easily, but this guy blows my mind.

I turn around, he fucks me just the way I like it. I don’t want it to end. After hours it finishes for him, but not noisily. Not like the way I faked it. I only had too because I was too drunk to cum. Maybe he was too.

Stupidly I ask him “What if it starts to mean something to me?”, “Well that’s just you being silly” he replies. It is the truth. but I don’t want him to try to hit on my friends again. I am not introducing him to the friend I said I wanted him to marry. This guy makes me feel amazing, where has he been hiding? How could I have been so wrong? I didn’t know why I was into him before and now I have a reason. It was amazing, he is amazing.

But I can’t fall or go there.  I will not. It would be way too complicated. I want him again. Lets see what happens.

Alejandro.