But volcanos are surprisingly hard to come by in the suburbs of Denver.
So instead of driving into an actual volcano I will have to do it metaphorically.
I have to be precise. One wrong move and instead of a volcano I am sinking into a huge pile of cotton candy.
All wrong. Delicious but all wrong.
In better news I did catch this amazing sliver of moon last night, as we pass from new moon into less new moon.
Here’s the special kind of heaux I am. when a new guy texts me “hey what you up to?” I respond with something like this:
“Oh just watching a movie.
What you up to?”
All nonchalant and innocent.
Cuz I’m a dirty slut bag.
Look, I’m not proud.
Ok maybe I am a little proud.
But in the most tragic of endless relentless tragic news, Joanns closing down has absolutely devastated me. I do not know how I am suppose to function. This is not ok. I am not going to be ok.
I will probably just drive into a volcano this weekend. I see no other option.
I have lost complete control of my life and I don’t even care.
I was chugging along. hoping something changes. something goes my way. someone notices.
And then someone did. In the most sudden unexpected profound way. someone noticed me.
Only see… the situation is very tricky. It’s uncharted waters for me, and I truly don’t know how to navigate it.
So what can I do except go along with this current?
I am living so dangerously right now.
It’s thrilling beyond belief.
I will drive into a volcano when this all ends in disaster and embarrassment.
I had a night. Boy did I have a night. A sleepover. At a boy’s house. A SLEEP OVER. I spent the entire night. I slept in his bed. On his pillows. Under his blanket. In his shirt. NEXT TO HIM.
The intensity. The emotion. The connection. The conversation. The sex.
Oh my the sex.
What I need to talk about tho is a moment. There was a moment that happened last night. An experience. a transcendence. I want to share with everyone. But I can’t. I can’t tell people. They don’t care, they don’t want to hear. They can’t understand. But I can tell you. You always listen.
We are watching a movie, lying on the couch, fully clothed. We are both live wires, buzzing, but it is not frenetic, no. it is slow, it is honey, it is molasses. He’s between my legs, the back of his head resting on my lower stomach, lower even. My legs are wrapped around him, and he starts removing my socks. Slowly peels them down and off.
I ask you this. How is taking off a pair of boring old cotton socks sexy? How is that even possibly sexy? But it was. It is.
He slides them off little by little and then his fingers are stroking my feet, the tops, the bottoms, the heels, those long brown fingers, between my toes. I feel his tongue all over, his teeth. He blows on my wet skin, a warm gentle breath, sending shivers up and down my whole body. This is his fetish not mine but his hunger is a wave that pulls me under, impossible to resist, and it’s no longer a fetish, it’s no longer his, it is ours, ours, ours. Our bliss.
My hips start moving, my thighs squeezing, my fingers in his hair, because his head is heavy in exactly the right spot. It’s building. The feeling is in my brain (in my spine, in my pussy). I am swimming, spinning, sinking, soaring, expanding into the universe, spreading through galaxies. The song that is playing in the movie at that very moment is the perfect soundtrack to my desire, and it’s sweeping through me, through every nerve every synapse every cell. And it takes me. Up and over the edge and down into the abyss and I am falling fast, I am flying, I am floating, down, down, deep, into the darkness, deep, into the endless still waters.
https://youtu.be/ckM_TklU_AQ?si=uKCjor2E8lQ6Bdk9
There is no return.
He tells me today that I am a “clumsy sexy” and I consider this and think ugh, but he explains what he means. And then I get it. It is exactly what I am. I am not overtly sexy. I don’t work to be sexy. I stumble into it, in my Christa way, and catch people off guard. Maybe “unexpected sexy” is a better way. But that also isn’t right, the implications of that word are off target.
So I’ll stick with clumsy sexy because I like how that sounds, how it fits, how it hugs my curves.
Where this goes no one knows. but I’m along for the ride and we’ll see where we end up.