Every once in a while I chat/email with someone and the “click” is there immediately. I wish I could produce the formula that equates to this click, but I don’t really know. It was like that with R, too, except that I had the pleasure of knowing a little about him before he even emailed me. Yet still, R took my bait and we chatted and we never shut up. It was kinda like that with this mysterious J (that’s all he called himself). He emailed me to pay a few compliments about the blog and there was just something there, something in his words. What he said, what he didn’t say, how he said it and his “voice”.

We  both recognized the click and the too-easy banter and the immediate intellectual attraction as being dangerous. Dangerous with the chance of addictive.

And so….at the end of that day full of flying emails, we said goodbye. He gave in briefly once more via my chat box but that was it. Today, nearly 4 months later, I tried to contact him only to find that the email address he’d been using was now closed.

Maybe he was just a ghost?

A figment of my imagination?

An entity capable of communicating through the wires and currents but not of being real?

Pity. I could have used a little more J right now.

Tags: boys, conversations, random thoughts

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The flirting has been coming back in bits and pieces; odd occurrences and mostly lighthearted. Some improper things said, things we used to say, and then 5 minutes later it’s back to talking about whatever.

I don’t know why it’s back.

He is the one who put the ban on this side of the friendship, last year.

I tried very hard to stop thinking about him that way for many months. I wouldn’t let myself. It worked for a number of months though, I kept it at bay. And then the first time of falling off the wagon together I tried to quickly push it away. “Shouldn’t do that”. Teasing here, inappropriate innuendo there.

But every now and then I give in for a few minutes with him. I guess he’s giving in, too. Occasionally he’ll get Toppy with me and that affects me even more. He knows it. But we shouldn’t do this. But I think we can’t help it, given the infectious grins that spread on our faces for the few minutes.

And it always starts off so inconspicuously. Innocent, like the sort of teasing that might occur now and then between any other pair of friends who share a hint of attraction to each other. But the problem with us is the history, the knowing how to push each others buttons. We shouldn’t. But it’s hard to resist. It’s an ego stroke, I guess. It feels good in more than one way.

It always shocks me how quickly an off-hand, innocent “joking” remark can turn into something that makes me squirm. Last week it was bratty banter and a “shut up or I’ll whip you” which, in text, is harmless. Harmless, except for how badly I still want him to actually do it. Before I could catch myself I said something to the effect of “front or back?” and the mental image of him wielding a flogger or his hand to my naked ass and then my bare cunt was just too much for me to handle. He knew it was getting to me; and I told him so. When he gave me an order (half-joking?) it would have been so easy for me to give in and answer with nothing more than the “Yes, sir” that wanted to fall off my tongue. I shouldn’t, I knew it. He tried again and it took all of my self control to stay my course.

Of course, where did I find myself hours later?

Egging him on. Giving in, subtly. Telling myself, telling him (but not outloud) to go there again and I’ll follow. Thankfully (I guess) he didn’t take the bait. Either I was too subtle or the “shouldn’t”s took control for him again or he was merely too deeply embroiled in work drama whereas first thing in the morning he’s still in transition. A minor rebuff, a reality check for me. Just as well……….

Tags: conversations, flirt, kink, trouble

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So the other week I wake up to an email notification in my inbox from the kinky social networking site I belong to. I’m not very active there, so I don’t get a lot of messages. I’ve had a few recently……dominant men who make me snarl and snap, but they’re not worth mentioning. Everybody gets those sort.

But this morning in question I was fresh into my self-imposed hiatus and easily irritated. When I read the message in my email I had no clue who the sender was other than their name but could see that the subject line was “hi honey” and the message was merely: “nice titties sexy girl”. I logged into the site with guns a’blazin’ and was all ready to fire off a “fuck you” email for the offensive and assumptive content (I told you I was feeling cranky and pissy! I’d normally brush it off)

but wait.

It’s not from a guy…..

And suddenly, I was stopped. My first reaction was “hey that’s kinda…..hot”. She appears to be a little butch but she’s in a relationship with a guy and her look isn’t “butch” just “metal/punk/raaaa” tryin to be a hard ass. Her profile though comes across very butch and gruff and Toppy and a few lines in it lead me to believe that anything I might do with her I can expect him to be involved and neither one of them appealed to me quite enough to get involved in a dual-topping session from them.

Mostly importantly though was that lingering word that I hate.

“titties”

I hate it. It sounds like a word used to describe an animal, like a cow’s teets or a dog’s. Which therefore leads me to imagining it coming out of a uneducated redneck-drawled mouth and…….no. Just….no.

Tits is fine. Boobs is fine. But yet I also cringe at “boobies” unless its coming from a kid. The word “boobies” seems juvenile to me. Whether it comes from a man or woman, it just feels asexual. It’s a word that if said during dirty talk would feel like a bucket of cold water.

Of course my skeptical brain then sat there and thought about it and then wondered if that message did, in fact, come from HER. Was it maybe him controlling both accounts? Or just him logging in to her account on a whim? They are local, and if I cared enough I could figure out if she’s actually behind it. But despite a deep craving recently for girly sex or group sex, the intrigue just isn’t there enough for me to take the risk in trying.

Tags: conversations, girls, the dickhead files

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I mentioned recently some advice on What Not to Say to Sex Bloggers when you email them.

So it’s only fair that I show you that not only do I get my share of nice, complimentary emails – I also get ones that bring me to happy tears. Seriously.

Here is part of his email I received today:

I want to thank you.

See, I remember when I first read your post regarding the Hot Fat Girl Revolution. I found it brave and (humorous as it sounds) even heroic. While I’m certainly not a woman, I couldn’t help but agree with each and every bullet point. The other day, I decided to show your post to my best friend of many years. She is that rare mixture of beauty, seductiveness, and allure the likes of which one only gets to observe once in a lifetime (and if you’re lucky, at that!). Despite this, she is what society deems “overweight,” and she cannot help but see herself flawed.

I don’t know exactly why I decided to share your post with her. Maybe it’s because she was feeling particularly downhearted that night, or maybe it’s because you remind me of her in some ways. Regardless…As she read your post, I saw a gleam enter her eyes and a confidence flash into her smile that I haven’t witnessed in a very long time.

So thank you, Lilly. Thank you for your courage, and for making another sensual, charming woman feel just that. Your inspiration and example is a truly fantastic thing.

This absolutely warms my heart, I love this email.

But I’m no hero….I’m not without my flaws and my faults and my moments of weakness as I stand in front of the dressing room mirror. A day spent shopping is my Kryptonite, it will reduce me to a curled up ball of despair, sobbing on my husband’s lap. That’s a bad day. A good day is today – when I know that one more person read those words and felt a little more powerful, a little more beautiful. A good day is today, when I can look in the mirror and like what I see.

However, models and shopping and clothes…that’s a topic for another day. Monday, perhaps.

Tags: conversations, fans, hot fat girl

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I wouldn’t say that I get a lot of reader emails. Perhaps 2-3 most weeks, sometimes more -  sometimes less.

Some are sweet and don’t expect anything in return, they just wanted to compliment in private.

Some are a little cheesy and make me roll my eyes, but I smile nonetheless.

Some give me a glimpse of a person that I could enjoy chatting with – and some do lead to that.

Some are from greedy lil bastards asking for more photos.

Some mean well but missed the mark a little – one that comes to mind bore the subject line of  “Guess who found your blog!” and I swear to you my heart stopped for a moment. He was referring to himself and all in all it was a really nice and sweet email but that subject line….to an anonymous blogger…..whew!

Some try to jump right into cybering and sexy chat. Some ask me what bra size I wear. To those types I have one thing to relay: Have a little respect. Yes, I blog about sex. Yes, I post half-naked photos. And I do indeed have “those” sorts of conversations with other people – people that are not strangers, people that I clicked with. I get these kinds of emails a lot especially from guys on the message boards that I (used to) post on. In general it just rubs me the wrong way when “hello” is barely out of the gate (sometimes not even!) before the schmooze and slippery talkin comes to the table. YOU might be in the mood and horny as hell but consider what the chances might be that I am as well, at the same time as you are, and equally interested in virtually sating that horniness……your chances are pretty close to nil. I might be a sex blogger but I’m still a regular person – not a sexual automaton here to turn it on when you put in your quarter. Try a little intelligent conversation first – smart, eloquent, funny men get my attention right away. (Such as this one, which I had to share because it made me a little weak in the knees: “Your prose sparkles, and as a professional writer, I admire that; after all, there’s nothing sexier than a wicked mind.  Most blogs I’ve chanced across are the text equivalent of porn — all harsh fluorescent glare and workmanlike efficiency; yours is soft light on naked skin, the heady bliss of that first stolen kiss… and the difference, as they say, is ALL the difference.” THAT is the type of mind/man that can make panties drop with words alone.)

Some are…..I don’t know what their intentions were. But it immediately offended me. For example I got an email from someone who was just starting to browse sex blogs and proceeds to tell me all about these other 3 (that I’d actually not heard of) and how great they were but that mine was….well, I’ll let him tell you: “And your thing seems interesting too. But unless I am missing something, it’s kind of just a…”I am getting married and got a lab kind of blog, no?”" I was quite baffled. Think what you want of my blog, I don’t require that everybody likes it, but is it necessary to go that route? In the end it turned out that he somehow had assumed that my side blog (which is now private) was the “sex blog”…..despite all other evidence to the contrary. Or at least thats what he finally claimed after I lit into him.

In short – my tits are big. I know this. You like my pictures? Awesome, I’m flattered, but I won’t be privately adding to your spank-bank stash. You get what you get here, and thats all there is. Now, if you’ve seen an erotic (not pornographic) artistic photo that you think I could emulate for a future HNT, that’s a different suggestion altogether. Did my prose make you horny? Cool, it’s nice sometimes to know I’m not the only one – but I suggest reading more of my blog or reading more of my friends’ blogs to help you finish because I most likely won’t. At least not for free and I’d bet I’m out of your price range :P

But if you want advice? Want to have an intelligent conversation? I’m your girl. If it’s just a few words you can say it right over there in the sidebar, in that IM widget. And if you worry you’ll say the wrong thing – let me assure you, your concern already puts you ahead of the unsavory ones.

Oh and always, always….spell my damn name right. It’s Lilly….not Lily.

Tags: blogging out loud, conversations, duh, fans

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