mint and bacon
We had bacon and eggs and pancakes and cereal and orange juice for breakfast.
I have yet to attempt to coordinate when things are made so all the food is warm at the same time on the plate, but I'm cooking different kinds of eggs for the different preferences. My peas and eggs were kinda cold when I started eating them, and by the time I got to my pancakes, they were, too.
I've been munching on the left-over bacon as I try to sort out the events of this weekend. Luckily, my toothpaste flavor isn't clashing.
Mr. C came to my place yesterday (Sat, Mar 1).
Even though he said he'd call when the bus arrived, he didn't. And I'd correctly deduced the timing of the bus and was waiting in the little corner market parking lot adjacent to the stop. I'd given myself enough lead-time so I could buy some breakfast supplies at the market: bananas, milk, pancake mix, bacon. I saw him exit the bus, but he didn't see me and couldn't hear me through his head phones and I couldn't catch up. I'm glad I wasn't feeling well enough to run after him, though, because I'd left my keys in the ignition.
At my place, I encouraged him to take off the wet clothes so I could put them in the dryer, but he said he was fine.
I cooked and he helped.
We watched a movie.
Cuddled.
He said some silly rhyme and I said "I love you."
Had some awkward sex. I zigged when he zagged and we both jammed sensitive spots and killed the mood and the hard-ons.
Plus I was starting my period, so there was a bit of discussion about the logistics and sensations and explaining the term 'earning red wings.'
Pretty much repeated the same awkward sex in the morning (Mar 2).
Then cooked breakfast. He made eggs and pancakes. Helped put away dishes.
More cuddling.
Then to his dad's for dinner.
Watched a movie.
He told me he loved that I knew what I wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it.
And more awkward sex. This time, the droop was due to my requests for deeper and moving his jabbing thumbs away from my ribs and telling him to 'hold me tight and thrust away' combining with his sense of not knowing what to do and feelings of inadequacy.
He laid there and gave me the cold shoulder.
I asked why he wouldn't even look at me.
He talked. Was frustrated. Confused.
I cried.
Finally we talked.
He said he's not thinking when we're intimate and focused on 'hurry up and finish' and when I tell him his hands are hurting me or request a change of pace or angle, the change pierces his enjoyment (during, his affect seems trance-like, I'd say) and he looses his hard-on and that makes him think about trying to get it back and he loses it more and then gets frustrated and truly despondent.
I told him sex for me isn't about the orgasm. "Sure, The Big O is nice, but it's all the other stuff, you deep inside, the feel of your body moving, each sweet sensation that I really enjoy. If all I wanted was an orgasm, I'd just take care of it myself."
He has this interesting opinion that oral sex is something we resort to, as opposed to my view of something equally enjoyable.
I reiterated my earlier thoughts that we need time and experience with one another to develop a sexual rapport and knowledge of one another's sweet spots.
For instance, I learned he brought his fingers to my mouth because I seemed to enjoy licking them, that he only does that for me, and I told him I like grazing my teeth along his thumb, but the rest I did because I thought he likes it.
Hopefully a real break-through is on the way.
I have yet to attempt to coordinate when things are made so all the food is warm at the same time on the plate, but I'm cooking different kinds of eggs for the different preferences. My peas and eggs were kinda cold when I started eating them, and by the time I got to my pancakes, they were, too.
I've been munching on the left-over bacon as I try to sort out the events of this weekend. Luckily, my toothpaste flavor isn't clashing.
Mr. C came to my place yesterday (Sat, Mar 1).
Even though he said he'd call when the bus arrived, he didn't. And I'd correctly deduced the timing of the bus and was waiting in the little corner market parking lot adjacent to the stop. I'd given myself enough lead-time so I could buy some breakfast supplies at the market: bananas, milk, pancake mix, bacon. I saw him exit the bus, but he didn't see me and couldn't hear me through his head phones and I couldn't catch up. I'm glad I wasn't feeling well enough to run after him, though, because I'd left my keys in the ignition.
At my place, I encouraged him to take off the wet clothes so I could put them in the dryer, but he said he was fine.
I cooked and he helped.
We watched a movie.
Cuddled.
He said some silly rhyme and I said "I love you."
Had some awkward sex. I zigged when he zagged and we both jammed sensitive spots and killed the mood and the hard-ons.
Plus I was starting my period, so there was a bit of discussion about the logistics and sensations and explaining the term 'earning red wings.'
Pretty much repeated the same awkward sex in the morning (Mar 2).
Then cooked breakfast. He made eggs and pancakes. Helped put away dishes.
More cuddling.
Then to his dad's for dinner.
Watched a movie.
He told me he loved that I knew what I wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it.
And more awkward sex. This time, the droop was due to my requests for deeper and moving his jabbing thumbs away from my ribs and telling him to 'hold me tight and thrust away' combining with his sense of not knowing what to do and feelings of inadequacy.
He laid there and gave me the cold shoulder.
I asked why he wouldn't even look at me.
He talked. Was frustrated. Confused.
I cried.
Finally we talked.
He said he's not thinking when we're intimate and focused on 'hurry up and finish' and when I tell him his hands are hurting me or request a change of pace or angle, the change pierces his enjoyment (during, his affect seems trance-like, I'd say) and he looses his hard-on and that makes him think about trying to get it back and he loses it more and then gets frustrated and truly despondent.
I told him sex for me isn't about the orgasm. "Sure, The Big O is nice, but it's all the other stuff, you deep inside, the feel of your body moving, each sweet sensation that I really enjoy. If all I wanted was an orgasm, I'd just take care of it myself."
He has this interesting opinion that oral sex is something we resort to, as opposed to my view of something equally enjoyable.
I reiterated my earlier thoughts that we need time and experience with one another to develop a sexual rapport and knowledge of one another's sweet spots.
For instance, I learned he brought his fingers to my mouth because I seemed to enjoy licking them, that he only does that for me, and I told him I like grazing my teeth along his thumb, but the rest I did because I thought he likes it.
Hopefully a real break-through is on the way.