I'd Like Some of THAT Sex Please.

When is it time to decide the party is over? Why does it have to end at all? Why do I love to feel the confetti drop from the sky and dance upon my skin? Is there not some fancy and frilly way to keep everything in check and still have more fun than you remembered you ever had? I don't know. If I had the answers I wouldn't be asking the question, would I?

I actually found someone with whom I am completely sexually compatible with. I honestly didn't think it was possible and had just about given up hope. Given up hope and resigned myself to a life with less than satisfying sex. How pathetic! Especially since I know it's out there somewhere! But there comes a time when you don't think you should have to teach anymore. Shouldn't have to be the instigator. Shouldn't have to be the more adventurous one. Sometimes it's just really fucking nice to be with somebody that has all the same thoughts and ideas as you. It takes the pressure off and lets each person enjoy themselves and each other, that much more. It's bloody refreshing. Exhilarating. However, don't get me wrong. I'm not that blindsided that I have let go of the reins. Nope. I've just loosened them up a bit and am enjoying the taste of the wind in my hair. And there's not a damn thing wrong with that.
I'm such a suck with certain things. Yes, I do love stealing kisses in the shadows. Sneaking glances from across the room. Feeling the warmth of his touch caress my neck. It's nice. I didn't know how much I had missed intimacy until almost this moment. I guess I had started to get used to the cold. And contrary to what others may think, I'm not cold in relationships. I'm the complete opposite. I enjoy loving one person.

Where the hell am I going with this? Apparently no where but here, which is to say no where at all. Just a bunch of rambling nonsense that has neither helped nor hindered my thoughts. I guess this was just a way to fill up some space without having to talk about how wonderfully delightful my night went, in fear of hexing something that may very well be nothing at all. Sometimes I just don't know when to shut my trap and write in my journal instead. This little piece of work would have probably been more suited for my journal. Meh. Well, I'm not deleting this now and I'm not about to write all of those words by hand after I just typed them all up. I can do whatever I want to do. Within reason, of course. Of course. Now get back on the dance floor and shake that ass like you own the place. That's right.