I know part of why I’m not writing.  

Life.  Life kills my boner to write. 

I’m currently sitting at a bar alone and all I want to do is write.  Partly because I’m alone and bored, but also because the energy is filling me up, like foam from the tap.  My mug spilleth over.

I feel more observant, more on point, energized.  For months I have typically felt spread thin.  I’m worn out, sad, hopeful, determined, grinding, slugging through.  It’s a lot of emotion to sort through every day. But I rarely am filled with brimming creativity.  Until moments like this.

When I’m surrounded by strangers, completely ignored. 

 It’s like writing pornography.  I’m so turned on to write.

I was here exactly one week ago today.  One of the many Chrises had texted me and wanted to see me again.  We met here and talked and laughed and drank fancy hipster cocktails before walking around the hipster neighborhood and binging on sake and sushi.

He lathered me in compliments all night long.  My hair, my body, my dress, my ass.  He loved it all.  I was sopping wet with his attention by the end of our night.  Figuratively speaking.

We drove back to his house and smoked “the finest weed you can find in this town!” while I deftly avoided the inevitable.  He’s not that great at sex.  

The first time I blamed myself.  The second time I realized it was him.  But he is friendly to a fault, cute, attentive, a true pleasure to spend time with so I willed myself to relax as he began to touch me.  Softly, timidly, too intimately.

When the licking, whining, cuddling dogs no longer provided enough buffer between us I decided to give it another whirl; the weed had relaxed every nerve and I floated slightly above the both of us.  Let’s do this.  

Upstairs he moaned as I undressed and I savored his sweet kisses.  We moved better together this time, though I still yearned for more, for less thought and more abandon.

I came a time or two, eyes closed willing it to be just a bit better while trying to  immerse myself in what I was actually getting.  And then it was suddenly over.  He’d silently cum and I’d fucking missed it, robbed of even the pleasure of his.

I asked him how he’d like it if I did that.  He got the message.  

We dozed sideways on his king sized bed for a minute or two before I begged off.  

“The dog.”  

He understood.

It was the next night when I was out with another man trying to get into a bar that I realized my ID was gone.

I looked for it everywhere – including my date’s jeans and underwear – but to no avail (though I did find a perky, willing cock).  

A day or two later I called the bar from my date with the Chris and voila!  They had it.

And so here I am, alone, thrumming with creativity and verve, and chatting up a handsome stranger who sat beside me while he waits for his date.

The Chris knows I’m here and will be here shortly.  Maybe this time I can parlay this surge in creativity into more than just a blog post and finally get him to make some noise.

[Ed. note: He said he’d be 45 mins.  Forty-five minutes in I was at 6% on my phone and texted him as much.  He was on another work call, don’t wait on him, sorry. And so I left.  Alone once more and robbed of the will to write yet again.]

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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9 thoughts on “I know part of why I’m not writing.  
  1. “For months I have typically felt spread thin. I’m worn out, sad, hopeful, determined, grinding, slugging through. It’s a lot of emotion to sort through every day. But I rarely am filled with brimming creativity. ”

    You have captured my present state to a T.

    I want to be creative with my writing, art, cooking, music…etc…but rarely does that urge build enough pressure to blow past the daily shit that keeps me in a stupor.

  2. Is there anything you do, think, or say that does not involve sex? Do you have a life outside the bedroom, like career, family, friends social causes, volunteer work, hiking making your street neighborhood, town, city, state, country, the world a better place? Maybe the reason you feel “worn out, sad, slugging through, surrounded by strangers, completely alone” is because you are so obsessed with sex?

    1. Nope. ALL I do is obsess about sex. I never leave my house unless it’s for sex, never have a conversation unless it’s about or for sex. It’s my sole reason for being.

      Actually, I CANT BELIEVE YOU ASKED THIS.

      What a short sighted, small minded individual you are to take a little of what I’ve written here and make such ridiculous assumptions about me. It clearly has not occurred to you that I use this forum (and all associated with Hyacinth) to express a singular facet of my life: sex. Nor has it occurred to you that I keep it that way to protect the rest of my life from the public. If I were to divulge more information about my life I would be jeopardizing my anonymity. Jesus Christ, man. Your words are so scathingly disdainful, yet dripping with ignorance and a lack of imagination I laughed when I read this.

      What an sad, pointless thing to do to come to my little corner of the internet and lecture me. You are the definition of a troll, you realize that, yes? Ugh. So dumb!

      1. Just as I suspected. Someone who has little else going on in their life other than sex and ,obviously, your child. So when someone points this out, you immediately strike out in anger and resentment because you do not want to be reminded of this.
        This blog and its content are the only thing that truly matters to you(again other than your child). Your inability to establish long lasting relationships and your preponderancy to attach yourself to men who are unavailable strongly suggest that this blog and compulsive sex have become a substitute for both. Wishing you the best
        wayne

  3. Wayne, ordinarily I would remain in the background but the sheer idiocy of your comments warrants a response. As someone who has met Hy, your assumptions could not be further from the truth. She is a bright, creative, beautiful woman/mother who has had normal human struggles with relationships in her recent past, most notably her breakup with TN, which she has chronicled extensively in her blog.

    Especially ridiculous is your assumption “Your inability to establish long lasting relationships and your preponderancy to attach yourself to men who are unavailable strongly suggest that this blog and compulsive sex have become a substitute for both”. Exact opposite of the truth and what she’s searching for.

    In my opinion, when she finds what she’s looking for, he will be one lucky dude. As for your assumptions, you know the old saying about assuming…

    As for your original post…I spent several enjoyable hours with her socially and sex was not involved. So yes, she does have a life outside her bedroom.

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