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Wednesday, March 30th, 2005
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1:36a
Ironically enough, this song is only making me want it more.
I don't know what's gotten into me tonight but fuck, fuck, fuck. I just want.
I think I'd probably come around her hand five or six times before it felt nearly enough. I'd be half-asleep by that point, still gyrating my hips onto her wrist, arms bent over my head. Talking my way through each orgasm. Keeping my eyes open until they flutter shut. Loving the way her fingers feel, turning me inside out, tying me together.
Maybe it's because I'll be there in like 15 hours. Maybe it's because I just want to feel loved and possessed and wanted, because this is a week of both anniversaries I love and anniversaries I'll never celebrate. Because I wonder if I shouldn't be more afraid than I am.
My dad told me he liked my hair tonight. He also was telling me about his co-workers. His Big, Manly Co-Workers who prove daily that inside every man, a poofter is lurking. Yeah, I just said poofter. I'm not sure why.
Anyway, my father's Big, Manly Co-Workers like to make comments about his hair. He's been going silver for ten years now, but apparently, some people are only noticing recently. He told me his co-workers are constantly saying, Will you look at Pat's hair? and then putting their hands in his hair. Then other people come over. He said sometimes there are five men touching his hair at once.
Also, he wears colored contacts. His eyes are naturally a sort of pale blue, but he likes to wear darker contacts that make his eyes look more intense. He's worn them for years. Normally he keeps a pair for work and a pair for his days off, but his work contacts are torn right now. So he's been wearing his nicer pair, which are apparently darker than what he normally wears to work.
Dad: I've got dirty construction workers saying, Don't take this the wrong way, but your eyes are really beautiful. Then they call other guys over, like, Hey, bud, come look at his eyes! These are construction workers! Men are strange.
Tonight he checked the oil on my car and gave me some gas money for the week. I love when he does little things like checking my oil. The other day, my mom randomly did all my laundry for me. I think there were like two loads or something. I had it all down in the basement, I just hadn't washed it yet. She even folded the clothes for me.
My bras are getting to be a little tight. It's kind of cool. I like the way my breasts feel heavier lately, the way their lower slope has grown rounder, hung lower. I'm feeling very womanly.
current mood: needing
current music: Scared of Girls -- Placebo (2 comments |comment on this)
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11:37p
In the middle of getting my wish, one of Kristin's floormates began to play an old Mariah Carey song. My friends and I used to listen to her all of the time. The first three CDs I owned were The Moffatts, the Grease soundtrack, and Mariah Carey's Daydream. My friends and I thought that in 'Fantasy,' when Mariah sang about sweet, sweet fantasies, she was singing about sweet, sweet medicine.
The song that came on was Always Be My Baby. I started singing along and when Kristin caught on, she sang too. Then she pressed her face into the crook of my neck and giggled. I love this about us, she said, that we can giggle over Mariah Carey while my hand is down your pants.
Here's what I love about us - she's sitting at her desk across the room. Her right leg is tucked beneath her; her left toes are slighly curled over the front edge of the seat. She's studying her Latin, talking to herself, freezing every time she catches me watching her.
I don't want to stop. Now her left leg has dropped, her foot grazing the floor, bouncing. Her hair is pulled back. She's wearing her brown, plastic-frame glasses. There is a piece of gum in her mouth, which she gnaws at between pronunciations.
It's amazing to think that I'm going to be doing this constantly next year. The other day, Ali asked, Why don't you room with Kristin? I told Kristin tonight, between kisses and cuddling. She told me she'd considered rooming together, but that the housing selection sheet was due for her before I'd been accepted.
Which is fine with me. I'd rather wait, not rush, see what happens. I'd rather do that than chance not being ready. My New Year's Resolution was to make sure this remains good.
Briefly, in non-Kristin news, my French teacher never called today. That's fine, I won't really have any work done until tomorrow morning/afternoon. I'm a little concerned though. I wonder why she didn't call.
current mood: content
current music: I Know -- Jude (1 comment |comment on this)
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