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Monday, May 02, 2005


I am a masochist.

Not just in the push me down on the bed roughly, rip off my clothes passionately, bend me over quickly, spank my arse sharply, tie my hands together tightly, spread my legs widely, fuck me from behind forcefully, kind of way.

Well of course like that, but not only in that way.

I am a masochist because I allow myself to become entwined in situations that will inevitably result in my getting hurt - emotionally.

I contacted SP today. It’s been 6 months since we last had sex together, almost 5 months since I last spoke with him. He’s been on my mind a lot recently; all I could think about when wandering around the Southbank, was feeling him inside me once more.

I felt compelled to see him, to lose myself physically and mentally by having sex with him. So I texted him:

“I want to taste you again. Lick and suck you deeply. I am wet thinking about your lovely cock in my mouth. Feel like something sweet to eat? I can be at yours in 2 hours...”

Of course he replied immediately. (What man ignores a booty call when it involves his cock being sucked?)

SP told me that he had already made plans, but that we should get together soon. I responded that I would think of him when I played with myself later. He said to “have a good one” for him, and that he would be in contact soon to make alternate plans.

I don’t expect to hear from him again.

He may have addressed me by the nickname he used to call me (“Sexy”), he may have flirted sexually in the texts, he may have even stroked himself tonight whilst thinking of me, but I doubt very much that he will contact me.

For his own reasons, SP is not able to be in a relationship with me, be friends with me, or even be fuck buddies with me. At this moment I don’t know whether I am happy or sad about that. But what I do know, is that attempting to have him in my life one way or another, will inevitably lead to my being hurt.

Texting him today was, in my view, weak. It showed me I am still vulnerable. I may want to shag the living daylights out of him (or, more correctly, have him fuck me as hard as I can take it), but I am conscious of what doing so might involve: eventual head-fuck and probable heart-ache for me; turning to the bottle for him.

As my friend K put it to me this evening, “SP is just bad news, why go there again?” and I cannot answer that right now. I know exactly what I would be getting into if we were to have sex once more, and yet I wasn’t able to stop myself from contacting him again, after all this time.

For a normally rational woman - and somewhat neurotic, but who’s perfect - consciously behaving in such a way as to end up leading to my being in pain, doesn’t quite fit in with my regular balanced perspective. Therefore I must be a glutton for punishment – there is no other explanation.

In bed I have come to understand this somewhat – I am beginning to accept I prefer to be submissive, (ironically I learned this through being with SP) and this is fine with me, I rather enjoy it. But outside the bedroom, this behaviour doesn’t make sense to me: I am an open-minded, progressive thinking, intelligent woman – what the hell am I doing walking into a situation (with my eyes open), where I know I am gonna get shafted, (in every sense of the word)?

I feel very uncomfortable that currently my masochism seems to be manifesting itself in a non-sexual context; I don’t want to be doing things or getting myself into situations that will leave me feeling shit or filled with self-hatred. I am aware that my contacting SP suggests that this is the path I might be going down.

But I hope this is just a blip, a temporary moment of blurred decision, out-weighed by my usual clarity. And perhaps if I stay focussed on the overall picture – being happy, having fun, moving forwards – SP will become a signifier of my past, not an indictment of my future self.

Even if he still makes nightly appearances in my masturbatory sessions.

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