As I mentioned in the last post, I am having trouble keeping up the teenage intensity for weeks without respite. Just a few days from my knight, my lover's touch, I strive to regain limitless desire. Last night after a heated misunderstanding ("fight" doesn't really describe what happens these days), I let myself wallow--Kris Kristofferson was involved. Then I meditated on nineteen.
The early growth of my libido focused on Bob Dylan. Specifically Nashville Skyline. I still think that the cover picture on that album is one of the sexiest celebrity photos ever! I've avoided Dylan in recent years because he would just make me cry. Seems its time to pull him back out. The music and voice make my hips feel warm. It may not be the intensity that Mr. White puts out, but radiant warmth. My hips want to sway with big hands on them. Added some White to the playlist and put it on repeat shuffle. Worked like magic.
I couldn't stop moving all day. And my skin is on fire for touch. Yoga in the sunshine. A little self-caress while no one was watching. Lots of fantasizing. Back in a lust circle! Fantasy makes housework so pleasurable. Swaying while washing the dishes, imagining my knight standing behind me. All the dishes were washed. Haven't washed ALL the dishes in weeks. Folding laundry, I couldn't help holding his underwear to my face before putting them neatly in his drawer. Down on my knees scrubbing a spot off the floor in my underwear, and in my head my knight was watching but not allowed to touch. The great thing about it all, is that having such a productive day makes me feel good about myself. When I feel good about myself, I lust. Oh the lust. Everytime my thighs touch--a bolt of electricity. I wonder how women with little thighs get that shock. I feel like a teen bride playing house. What a great feeling. I'd play house like this for the rest of my life if I could.
My knight lands home this Saturday. I got a babysitter for that night. I am so ready. Since moving home, my panties haven't made it in the house once after a date. Not sure I should even wear panties this time. Finally that bolt of electricity can pass through my knight again. He's always what I'm thinking of.
--Nineteen and newlywed
Post Script:
I'd like to share the magic playlist. Enjoy.
I Threw it All Away
Nashville Skyline Rag
To Be Alone With You
One More Night
Peggy Day
Tonight I'll be Staying Here With You
Tell Me That it Isn't True
Country Pie
Lay Lady Lay
Your Southern Can is Mine
Seven Nation Army
The Hardest Button to Button
You've Got Her in Your Pocket
I Want to be the Boy to Warm Your Mother's Heart
Hypnotize
Your Pretty Good Looking
Jolene
Fell in Love With a Girl
Hotel Yorba
Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground
The Denial Twist
As Ugly as I Seem
Offend in Every Way
Little Ghost
Forever for Her
Rag and Bones
You Don't Know What Love Is
Old Enough
Level
Salute Your Solution
I Cut Like a Buffalo
Devils Haircut
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
The Beginning of December
I fell down, of course. And then I got back up, of course, and started over....
Since my last post, I have been 19. Possibly 17. Imagine your one and only love, who is the center of your seventeen year old world, leaving for two whole weeks. Excruciating. If I were really seventeen, that would have about ten exclamation points. About a week into that intense of feelings, my thirty-one year old body could not take much more. Depression set in. Not that this produced any less intense feelings. Every minute away from my night is still a dagger to my heart.
The guilt came after our first child. A daughter. A daughter who I never wanted to experience what I did as a young "adult". Guilt of my pain. Guilt of the infamy I brought to our relationship. Guilt as a result of my knight coming relatively clean to me. Guilt of trying to teach my daughter to prevent the pain. The origin of guilt. Nothing associated with my earlier life was clean. All dirty by association. Obviously this was too broad a net.
One of the things I felt guiltiest about was wasting the intense feelings on boys not worth it. This new intense passion for my knight washes away the guilt. It's everything of a first love. It's everything of an Only Love. It's all consuming. All day. All night. Too much for this old body to handle. Boy is it exciting!
The second day into defeat at the hands of hormones, my knight rode in. He reminded me that being aroused, no matter how aggressively, trumps depression. As usual, he is spot on. On my spot. He also started blogging his fantasies, so that I could be reminded of wild libido anytime I start to forget. Needless to say that I am crouched like the demon waiting for my Pan to take over. My bearded goat-man. I've taught him the lessons he's missed and he wants to take me over.
No guild for the father of my daughter. The father of my son, who I hope to raise to treat his love like his father does. After all of this.. despite of all of this.. because of all of this, I'm the same girl I've always known.
Since my last post, I have been 19. Possibly 17. Imagine your one and only love, who is the center of your seventeen year old world, leaving for two whole weeks. Excruciating. If I were really seventeen, that would have about ten exclamation points. About a week into that intense of feelings, my thirty-one year old body could not take much more. Depression set in. Not that this produced any less intense feelings. Every minute away from my night is still a dagger to my heart.
The guilt came after our first child. A daughter. A daughter who I never wanted to experience what I did as a young "adult". Guilt of my pain. Guilt of the infamy I brought to our relationship. Guilt as a result of my knight coming relatively clean to me. Guilt of trying to teach my daughter to prevent the pain. The origin of guilt. Nothing associated with my earlier life was clean. All dirty by association. Obviously this was too broad a net.
One of the things I felt guiltiest about was wasting the intense feelings on boys not worth it. This new intense passion for my knight washes away the guilt. It's everything of a first love. It's everything of an Only Love. It's all consuming. All day. All night. Too much for this old body to handle. Boy is it exciting!
The second day into defeat at the hands of hormones, my knight rode in. He reminded me that being aroused, no matter how aggressively, trumps depression. As usual, he is spot on. On my spot. He also started blogging his fantasies, so that I could be reminded of wild libido anytime I start to forget. Needless to say that I am crouched like the demon waiting for my Pan to take over. My bearded goat-man. I've taught him the lessons he's missed and he wants to take me over.
No guild for the father of my daughter. The father of my son, who I hope to raise to treat his love like his father does. After all of this.. despite of all of this.. because of all of this, I'm the same girl I've always known.
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