zig-zag

Follow this long blithering trail of jagged thoughts at your own peril.


I wrote out the whole three-way phone call a while back, examining all the thoughts that had been racing through me throughout. I stared at it in ashamed dismay when I was done. How much of what should have been fun and exciting perished in a bumbling, tumbling sea of competition, control and pride?

So I don’t have the heart to put it up all here. Besides, it’s too long, even by my standards. But I will leave the three paragraphs that I do actually like so that they are not lost completely in my deluge of self-doubt.

This is forgotten quickly because he is talking and she is responding. From the first trembling of her oh-mmm-um, you are arrested. She cuffs you to the moment and you are sentenced to repeating her every sound. To do any less would be impossible. He is leading his hand down to her cunt you think, you are still losing track of words, not because of the volume, because of your reeling mind. But it is ok because she moans, you moan, she groans, you groan, she thrills, you thrill, it is all just fine.

You find your voice modulating to her timbre in a strange way over the course of the call. You are one to moan desperate and edgy, she seems to moan more delighted and free, but then this seems to change, you find that maybe you are beginning to unwittingly meet each other halfway. You are cooing sometimes, she is fighting sometimes, you do not know, you are not thinking.

And he tells you both to cum finally, and you forget all in the final moments, everything is forgotten in that cacophony of throaty noises. They course through you and rush you even faster than you thought possible. He is groaning, she is deliciously loud, screaming, incredible, and you are surprised that you are too, just as loud, echoing her unwittingly to the very end, absolutely bawling, fingers soakily pushed inside.

So let' s just leave it at that, parts of it were fun and bold and fantastic, parts of it were not.

But things become clearer.

One is that the phone is a poor, contrived medium for this, especially for me. Phone sex has its limits. It can turn suddenly very silly if your mind slips a little, even with two people, so you can imagine with three. I do not think I will become a master pro at talking on the phone any time soon. Even in the flesh, I am more inclined to move and moan and tense and grab, then actually talk. I’ve become better, but under the pressure of novelty, it can slip back easily.

Second of all, it is imperative that T be attracted to this woman. I have always felt this. Anything less is flattering, maybe even exhilarating, but not worth it. It’s a cheap thrill, and I don’t need it. It really killed the mood of the whole talk, that he was talking about someone he said he didn't want to fuck. The subterfuge doesn’t work for me. It doesn't seem to be in the right spirit. I suspect that if he does find the woman more attractive, he will still try to keep it partly back, but I want to keep any hiding to a minimum. I know it will probably make me jealous, but it's more inportant that I have comfort in that moment that he is saying what he means.

Finally I realized that I cannot help but battle to maintain a certain kind of unsexy, stiff pride in front of strangers. So this dispels any delusions I had about not needing to talk to the possible woman for very long beforehand. It seems fairly obvious, that I would need to talk and meet and form a connection with someone, before I could relax enough around them for me to enjoy having sex with them. Duh.

But I think it was just that my focus was always far too much on him, maybe since my experience has been with him. Hopefully if I shift more on to her, really try to savor my experience with her, it will ease the balance. It will let T feel more free to focus on her without worrying about me. No one will have to feel disconnected. And though he may feel a tad jealous at first, he must know by now my perchant for men and cock, especially him and his cock.

I think tripods are naturally unsteady, but then some of them seem to remain on their feet for so long. So I remain hopeful. (ed note: no, I'm not talking about two legs and a cock, hah, just caught that while reading. Maybe not the best place to put this thought then, but oh well.)

We talked on the phone only one more time after that call. It was the phone call that had me kind of anxious beforehand.

Incidentally, ‘I hate phones’ is a common theme, it seems, judging from the comments, the surge of people who got to my blog from a search to that effect, as well as all the other blogs that have an entry eerily exactly like mine. Quite funny.

The call went alright. He was convinced quickly enough that “girlfriend feeling” had not been the best way to describe my twinges of jealousy and absolute need in that moment. We discussed why he couldn’t cum, if doing this was going to feel like too much of a responsibility and struggle for him.

Though he gave me no clear answer, he sounded shaky overall about doing this threesome. He didn't throw it out the window, just said much of his earlier strident need for it had faded.

I think the reality of it is that he does want to move on, and I begin to really and truly see this for what it is, a dying gasp from something that needs to be let go. I’ve only typed it before, but it is starting to hit home. If he needs to go, if he feels like stepping up again and opening up to his need for a partner, I don’t want to be the smokescreen like this for much longer either.

Smokescreen. Well, that's what it feels like. A little bit on my side too.

It is difficult though, ending anything with anyone is difficult. We are going to stop having sex starting riiiiiight… now. It doesn’t work quite like that huh? It sounds like it should, but it doesn’t. There are always a few last coughs and hiccups, a lag between the realisation and the action. It's a bit sad, maybe, but it's beginning to feel normal.

He said that he hadn’t felt as much sexual interest from me in these past few months. Not quite as much energy. It’s true. I’ve been down on the whole, rare half-bursts of energy now and then. I haven’t been able to write too much. Also, the novelty is naturally wearing off, so I can’t exactly bounce off the walls the same way I did at the beginning. But I know it’s still all there inside, still lots to do. It may have ebbed but it’s not gone.

He needs to be around for it though, and he’s not. It is strange, for we are both coming into this from different ends of the same circular struggle. I have felt really very low at times, while he has been in a lot of debiliating physical pain, apparently the common bane of a working musician. I have felt physically tired as a result of my mood, losing appetite, losing sleep, my limbs and back always aching, whereas he has fought to not have his mood drop into depression while fighting and worrying about the pain.

We are both alone. We need comfort and we cannot quite give it to each other. What to do?

Still, he has been in my thoughts a lot more recently, because of his pain. Compassion clings like plastic wrap maybe, but I really need to extend it sometimes. I wish I could do more. I wish I could do something. I don’t know what it is.

I would like to lie him down sometimes and tell him to relax, to give up complete control of his pleasure to me.

It would also be completely fucking sexy. I have the whole scenario tingling in my head. Let’s see if I get the chance and courage. The time for that may be over.

He said maybe we had been analyzing too much with this threesome, needed to get back to the basic feeling of fucking. It was what had been in my thoughts already after writing down about the call. I had felt strongly that it shouldn’t be this difficult. It’s sex. It feels good. I’m not discounting all the analysis, but again, enough with that focus. We need to relax, honestly.

So I talked through this call, the same threesome scenario talked out over and over. I started it, and he ended it. This time it was easy and sweet, not dark and deep at all. I watched them, sliding a finger in the same time he slid into her. She lay beneath him, pleasant and and wet and quivering around him. I wanted him to enjoy her, wanted to hear her enjoy him. But I needed to be fucked so badly, and I said this, and we laughed easy laughs. I asked him to make her cum soon, quickly. She came around him finally, bursting wet and loud onto him, so that I had to groan. And then he moved to me. I felt bright and relaxed. I moaned frantically when he pushed inside. The need was surging, easiliy overwhelming, like simply closing your eyes while waiting for a wave of salt foam to crash over you. I had pushed in two fingers and found myself really pushing them in deep, really trying to hit hard inside me. I told him this. So he told me to fuck myself then, like he would, though I could never quite reach like him. And I did, pushing in fast rhythm, both of us grunting quietly with the exertion, and he felt me building, and we came together loudly, lovely, left me with a smile on my face.

We both had to run immediately afterwards. This is tradition, he has joked, it’s way beyond a habit at this point.

I have never been one for tradition. It only makes me want to at least question it, try it a different way. But I guess we are masters of last-minute timing.

I found the one-word message he left me on my screen later on, and it cracked me up in its brevity.

Pleasure!!!! :))

Pleasure indeed.

I know my focus was still nearly solely on him our last talk, like a one-last lingering kiss, if I can be allowed the romantic allusion. But it has left me strangely more inspired about this threesome than I have in a while. I’ve been writing out a whole new possibility. Hopefully I can post up soon. The ending is the tricky part always, how to wrap things up, leave everyone satisfied.

I will give this one last try, start the search anew, see if something comes up.

The truth is I just want to meet a woman I like.

Spring is here, what’s left to do? I feel a smilling calm that comes I think from knowing I can step outside, breathe in air from a warm breeze. Tomato and herb planting time again soon.

I used to wonder at the beginning what would happen to my blog once (if once) T moved out of it. I wondered what I would write about, if I would just close this place down.

But I feel ready now to start making the changes already. It seems easy again. There is much to explore. I’m feeling a bit lazy about it right now, but I expect it will be reflected here soon enough in the coming months. Blogging has been the most insiduous of any of my relationships, has always been about that corny inescapable relationship with myself.

I think it’s time for that to come through even more.