Undocumented Birthday Sex (NSFW) | 1996 diary

Sunday August 8, 1996

10996657_679931672111769_717209370486383676_nWhy do I keep doing this?
Having sex with Bear and then refusing to write about it in my diary?

Is it still the fear I will freak out when I think/overthink letting him come in my mouth?
Are the Aids phobia and the panic attacks still haunting me, is that what this is?

As if I would not take any risk for him, for Bear.
Maybe it is because this fear has been with me for as long as I can remember, longer than Bear.
The fear is more a part of me than Bear is, that much is certain.

But was it really taking that step, about six weeks ago or something, that has made me so careless with cherishing the memories of us having sex?

Or is it the unease of being his mistress since we started having sex again this year?

Why do I throw away memories of something that is so precious to me..
If he decides to stop seeing me, I want to hang on to them, have them in a little box and caress them with my fingertips when he gets married, has his first child, moves to the other side of the country or possibly even migrates, given his work.
I need to build a memory of him, if I can’t build a life.

Yet just like last time, I didn’t.
I didn’t polish that memory and didn’t put it in a jewelry box.
But I did write about it to Nikki, and photocopied that letter before I mailed it out to him. So I have that here in front of me, hoping it will make me remember more.

In the letter, I compared Bear to a professional football player, able to score with the smallest window of opportunity.
Of course! It starts coming back to me now.

I didn’t feel like having sex, and he had made it into such a fun experience. The letter to Nikki was about my understanding that I had to get better at this.
I wanted to be the one who could do that, make things really good in bed and be there when the other is dropping out.
Yet my new year of life started off being just as flaky with sex as ever!

It was Bear who saved the day, and me feeling wishy washy and being totally dependent on his magic.
Even when I should be the one who is flexible and talented, because if I want to have more sex, more lovers, or who knows maybe even a man-
I was about to say “a man for myself” but that is of course not what I want at all.

But let’s say, if I want to have a boyfriend to whom I am the most important girlfriend;
Then I need to “man-up”! 

I can’t keep relying on Bear to warm me up with that deliciously long menu that he serves me a chef’s special of every time I m like:
“I don’t know, I m just not feeling it”, when we’ve already kissed, and I m in his arms and I can feel I m wet, but indeed telling the truth when I say I’m not feeling it.

His jam-packed box of tricks.
The way he pokes around in my head to see what angle I respond to…
We role-played for the first time since we got back together this year, and damn that felt good. It was just a light, exploring session that definitely did not have the emotional danger and intensity we had experienced in our best years.
But Christ, how good to be home.
To be doing this again, him and me.

When he hugged me goodbye at the top of the stairs, and descended to the front door, I stayed there watching, through the long rectangular window in my door.
I admired the determined way he took the concrete stairs to the street, and all I thought was;

“I m fucked”.

And not just literally.

“I asked him to take me in doggy,” I wrote Nikki.
“And that was risky, because it hurts. I could have ruined it all, but I think I was so into the role play that I really wanted to be taken like that. And he did.
I m not going to tell you how dominant he was, because it’s like it ruins it. Like I betray the moment.
But it was so good!
Bear said exactly the right things, everything I wanted to hear and needed to hear, to fully submit and let it come.
It hurt so much, I had forgotten all about it. You can’t remember pain, not like that. Yet I wanted it, and I definitely did not want him to stop. I was afraid that if I expressed the pain he would back down, but I couldn’t help myself.
I was totally into it, the pain, the agony, and a pleasure so deep and raw I had never experienced anything like it.
For the first time ever I came like that. And so did he.
In sports they’d probably call it a team effort.”

.
~Lauren96
An unexamined life is not worth living

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Undocumented Birthday Sex (NSFW) | 1996 diary
is the fifteenth chapter to
1996 diary 

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1994 A Performance Project
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