Sexy Saturday Video

I'm feeling you.

Roll Bounce.

This Chet Faker video digs into me, vibing with me walking into a room and being on the lookout for you.  We barely know one another, that is to say, you dont' really know I exist.  I'm just a face you see occasionally in a crowd. But you do, for me, and that's all I need to fantasize about the electricity I'd make if I just reached out and touched you. But first I need to flaunt it, to make you see the girl in the room strutting just for you.

Do you feel what I'm putting out there?  Yeah, that's all for you. 

Sexy Saturday Video

It's 4 minutes of the cutest foreplay, a paced opening that quickly leads up to explosive moments of rushing together and merging. There are lusty looks that turn into excited discovery. Followed by lip pressing, playful tugs, dipping tongues, neck caressing, hair pulling, and sated embraces.

Was it good for you?

Men of a Certain Age

I don’t believe in fishing in another woman’s pond.

By that I mean, I won't' date anyone more than 10 years older or younger than myself.  Any guy over or under my 10 ten year barrier, by default, belongs to a woman in his age bracket.

I know what you'll say, age is nothing but a number.  I'm not going to argue that right now because that's a whole other article. I believe in what I like to refer to as an ‘Age Sisterhood’.  It's already difficult for women to find good men and even harder for her to find that guy within a normal or level age difference. For that reason alone, I won't go fishing guys out of her pond.

Having said that, it's time for me to get off my precious little soap box. Only I find I've got one foot still on it. It's being a little stubborn. It doesn't want to make me out to be a hypocrite, but it's stuck in a bit of a quandary. Said quandary arrives in the form of a sexy older man – much sexier than this girl is used to coming across.

Who knows when gears shift down below?  There's no record of me being particularly attracted to older guys. Only as of late, I've been developing this thing for older men. Not just any older guy, though – so don't go rushing the table yet, Gramps. It's a select few, an aged rare cheese kind of guy.  I realize these comparisons are doing crap to justify my position.  Too late to the refresh button on this one.

Some part of me is subconsciously trying slap this truth from my mouth like bad rest stop sushi. So, I'm attracted to older men -- not the end of the world.  Want to know who makes my sexy older guy list? Yeah, I bet you do. There isn't a gaggle of them, just a few:

Keanu Reeves, Jeff Goldblum, Brad Pitt (shocks right?! But he does make the AARP list), Sam Elliot, Idris Elba (doesn't break my age barrier, I just wanted him on this list), Ken Watanabe, Mikhail Baryshnikov and lately 'the guy'.

Let me just say that again - well, more like, let me type that name again. Mikhail Baryshnikov. Just that sound of his name running through my head makes me sigh aloud.

Ok, back to ‘the guy’.  Sorry dears, can't use names because I see the guy on 'the reg'. He was simply a guy, a sweet guy that I enjoyed seeing and chilling with. Then a summer day showed up - a gloriously tinted warm day.  He stepped out of a vintage GTO, looking like a Rag & Bone model.

I.e. like this Rag & Bone ad featuring none other than M.B. looking seasoned and tasty. Moving his body in ways a man of his age shouldn't be able to tempt a young thing with. There was a reason why Carrie just referred to him as The Russian - because she needed some friggin sexy sounding name to match what he was putting out!

How many years older do they have to be to be stuck behind my moral barrier? 10+.

None of that mattered to my lady parts when I saw him, though. The scene was like a game show. It's The Price is Right in my panties - the excitement of meeting the host makes the buzzer go off and the contestants go berserk coming down the aisle. I swear - the entire time we were making with the pleasantries, it was like my vagina became a beacon and I shamefully thought everyone could see me struggling to keep my lewd lusty's in control.

Lest you think me vain, I need to interject with the why of it.  That's the million dollar question.  Is it the emotional maturity they possess that draws me in? All the wisdom that somehow frames itself so handsomely in the lines of their face and in the gray of their hair?

Certain men are weathered in the most interesting ways. They retain a feeling that their age is simply a digit and not a meter running out of time. There emit something that draws women in - not a certain type of woman - just her entire sex.  How does a woman see that and not at least taste it?

Lucky for me, I still know how to look and not touch.

Sexy Saturday Video

It's so simple. A girl, longingly holding onto a microphone for dear life, all her wanting being delivered over a steady gut wrenching beat that culminates into intellectually tragic and lovesick lines:

"Wait, they don't love you like I love you. They don't love you like I love you. Maps. Wait, they don't love you like I love you."

That moment at 2:45 when she stops singing - it's just eyes on her and the anguish she's emoting. And that's what makes MAPS as vulnerable, raw and sexy as any intimate moment between a boy & a girl.

 

Sexy Saturday Video

I'm by no means saying you should find Lorde sexy -- maybe you do, and hey, that's ok. She's a bit young & female for my taste.

What I am saying is that this song melts over you like a prowl.  Every slow and steady upbeat is meant to empower you to go after what you want. For the next 3 minutes, you are not the prey...

SEXY SATURDAY VIDEO

Hozier's pleading voice plays as Ballet Dancer, Sergei Polunin throws his tattooed torso around with controlled angst and ache in strong, yet graceful emotive leaps, tombés and pirouettes around the skeletal frame of a white clapboard church... 

It's the perfect combo for a heart palp. In fact, you're bound to have a few. You're welcome.

Relationship Cop Out?

Is there a defining moment when you think your friend could be more than just a friend? Or does it really just boil down to a spontaneous hormonal moment that takes over? Two members of the opposite sex that spend a lot of time together are bound to, over time get a jolt or two…right?

Recently, while on holiday, I spent some time with a friend, who I up until that moment viewed solely as a brother. I don’t know what happened – different time zone, jet lag, and lack of sleep…all these things could have contributed to my single episode of wanting - a brief and ill-advised moment where I crossed the line, so to speak.

I’d like to think I just tip toed over it; only thing I’m not tip toeing over is this newfound habitual tendency of undressing my guy pal in my dreams. Honestly, I don’t know how it came to this. I’d prefer to lavish this post with a more Freudian explanation than that, but I don’t have enough blood flowing to my brain to even justify my inappropriate horniness under the guise of that psychosomatic mumble jumble.

I’m having all these, lusty lunges – yup, I made that up. I’m defining it as ‘embarrassing double entendres you throw out when you start losing all sense of friendship propriety’. The moment when your eyes glaze over and wipe out all proper buddy behavior and replace it with “I wonder what you look like naked?”

I know it’s wrong – wrong of me to suddenly flip the switch on our friendship with overly aggressive flirty behavior – which mind you, I was keeping under control until his mutual attention started pumping me and my game up. Oh lord, I just claimed to have game.

I find myself doing what I call sleazy activities…listening to inappropriate amounts of R&B, basically, whoever sings about sexing you up and slathering you down - and purposely letting my mind wander. I’ve started placing orders to Agent Provocateur and Victoria Secret for future lingerie emergencies. I totally feel like a pervert.

My urges are one thing, but my hesitancy to take this any further boil down to my fear of outing myself more than I already have – I haven’t actually uttered any damning words, so I figure I’m still in the safe place. Right now, I’m enjoying indulging my mind in the ‘what if’s’. I don't want to spoil the mood with having to deal with sudden definites. Frankly speaking, if there’s not mutual want to take things to another level, I stand to lose. So I’m choosing to stay friends and let things evolve naturally – no pressure.

Or is that a cop out?

I Want You For Your Mind, and Other Things That Are Hard To Believe

I am stimulated by engaging conversation and my desperate want of it often leads me into this trouble area with men. Men that I enjoy being mentally stimulated by but don’t have romantic notions of. And so I go out on dates that I don’t perceive as dates. I am naïve on that front because I believe that they are seeking the same from me – mental stimulation and not a physical manifestation of the bonding that just occurred between us.

After a few meet ups, I hear the clumsily hidden expectation of ‘more’ in their conversation. My chest heaved and I realize that we will not be able to have this, this perfect thing much longer. And I am reminded of what most of my guy friends tell me “it’s impossible for a man and a woman to have a platonic relationship”. And I suppose I can understand that, just as much as I understand that in those moments I am playing with fire but I have no hidden agenda here; this is not some ploy to seduce him with my intelligence – which even sounds preposterous in this age of the male obsession with stacked chicks and low IQ’s. My choices are not made within age limits, height requirements or body types. I carry no preconceived notions as to what constitutes a good conversationalist.

Now, by no means am I saying that good conversation is something women are in possession of and not men. I’m just categorically saying that I don’t want to get stuck in another restaurant sitting across from a guy that quotes sport stats all night, my mind secretly clicking into survival mode and translating everything he says in the voice of Charlie Brown’s teacher.

Engaging conversation is rare commodity…tell me, how can I have it with you without you having me?

I Want You For Your Mind, and Other Things That Are Hard To Believe

I am stimulated by engaging conversation and my desperate want of it often leads me into this trouble area with men. Men that I enjoy being mentally stimulated by but don’t have romantic notions of. And so I go out on dates that I don’t perceive as dates. I am naïve on that front because I believe that they are seeking the same from me – mental stimulation and not a physical manifestation of the bonding that just occurred between us.

After a few meet ups, I hear the clumsily hidden expectation of ‘more’ in their conversation. My chest heaved and I realize that we will not be able to have this, this perfect thing much longer. And I am reminded of what most of my guy friends tell me “it’s impossible for a man and a woman to have a platonic relationship”. And I suppose I can understand that, just as much as I understand that in those moments I am playing with fire but I have no hidden agenda here; this is not some ploy to seduce him with my intelligence – which even sounds preposterous in this age of the male obsession with stacked chicks and low IQ’s. My choices are not made within age limits, height requirements or body types. I carry no preconceived notions as to what constitutes a good conversationalist.

Now, by no means am I saying that good conversation is something women are in possession of and not men. I’m just categorically saying that I don’t want to get stuck in another restaurant sitting across from a guy that quotes sport stats all night, my mind secretly clicking into survival mode and translating everything he says in the voice of Charlie Brown’s teacher.

Engaging conversation is rare commodity…tell me, how can I have it with you without you having me?

It's The Return Of The SEXY SATURDAY VIDEO

HMMM...LYKKE LI touching herself as she deadpans her face toward the camera, caresses her crotch and with a disarming flatness in her voice, Li sings, "I'm your prostitute, you're gonna get some". MY, oh MY.

I'M OK, YOU'RE OK

I haven’t had time to do one bad thing since I’ve been away these many months. Not unless you count climbing into bed with a friend and not giving it up a sin. OK, so it’s a cock tease but I don’t think I’m going to hell for it. Or is there a special place reserved for girls who think they want to give it up and then change their minds?

God, it feels good to be back. I mean, I think I’m back, as long as you want to keep hearing my insane thoughts.

So here’s the deal…I’ve been editing an online magazine and it keeps me pretty busy. Things are finally starting to level out to a non-crazed pace. My calendar has stopped smoking, my eyes are starting to roam, my hands are idle and I need to do something or someone. Hitting these keys and crafting these thoughts are a start but momma might just need something stronger. Like a life. But right now I’m OK settling for sex. Actually, I’ll take baby steps trying to get back into the game and wish for an earth shattering kiss – that leads to touching.

Problem is, in the midst of the all the recent hubbub I’ve only been hanging with people in the same industry, which is to say the pool is shallow. What passes for dates these days, are really just meetings held in restaurants, this way I can work and eat at the same time. Flirting is carried on with the same people and is generally understood to be the glazed gleam and wink of a second glass of champagne courage. I did get propositioned by a pretty decent looking gal sometime ago, but by the time I realized I was being hit on she’d already left the room with the guy sitting beside me. I don’t even have a time of reference for the “some time ago”. So you see, I’ve been a social retard for the better part of a year. And as it winds down I find myself in that awful dilemma of wanting to screw one of my ‘see you all the time’ friends. Oh, that sounds awful…how about, “wanting to make love” –nope; too serious. “Wanting to sleep with” – too gentle. I’m aiming for primal.

I have been having twisty pretzel dreams about him. Knock all the stuff off the kitchen table dreams about him. What I’m trying to do is put the hormones aside for a sec to see if there’s any depth in this situation. I’m not capable of using a good friend for a one nighter. And I’m pretty sure a Walk of Shame will have a negative effect on our friendship. So, is it just lust or have I been in a unique position of gaining something positive from all this one-on-one time and its him per say, and not his hot bod that’s got me all worked up?

As I ponder this with my third jumbo cup of coffee for the day – I wanna say hey, hello, how you been? Did you miss me? I missed you. See you soon.

The Willing of Stuff

I have long since willed many things to come, the first of which being the publishing of the novel that I have worked on for over five years. The second, a man – a creative, sensitive without being wussy, lanky without being underfed, geeky but with the ability to whip off the glasses and expose his inner Clark Kent, lustful without needing to exhaust himself outside of our shared bed. Lastly; world peace. Well, I had to say that didn’t I or else the other two would just sound superficial and self-serving. And yet none of those things have come to fruition, to which I draw a long sigh and hit the period on the keyboard as if it cements its finality in ever coming true. And then I’m here after so long a period of not writing, I’m here and missing my readers and the comments and the moments I set aside to read your blogs and wishes and dastardly deeds. Somehow it becomes new air and all consuming, and I feel right and fulfilled. I find the patience to wait for all these things to come.

It feels good to be back – how are you?