(no subject)
Dear Journal,
O.m.g. For the first time in my life 20 (well near twenty, I turn it tomorrow), I was actually sexually attracted to someone. Yesterday on the subway. I was sooo surprised. I had honestly seriously thought I was asexual. But I guess not. Well actually, perhaps I still am, just an asexual fetishist. But that's besides the point.
The point is this guy made me exited. Like, guh. He was so guapo. Around my age, I think Hispanic, but with really light skin like porcelain white. Wide face, yet defined cheekbones, hooded eyes, sort of slightly spiky hair, tall(ish), slim business suit with sharp angles, brief case, leather soles, just snazzy looking. I couldn't stop staring! Even when we got on the train, I could see his reflection from where he was facing a reflective surface away from me, so I could still stare (breaking periodically of course). But omfreakingod. That was the first time I wanted to do things to a person. Like, I wanted to wrap his tie around my hand and pull him down to my lips; I wanted to plant sensual hot kisses to the skin above his sharp crisp white collar, and flick my tongue out to get a taste of hot, male species with warm skin that I knew would warm me right up. Rip open the dark suit and run my hands down his white button down shirt and then sneak my hands through the button openings to get a feel of smooth hot skin before either unbuttoning the shirt or just getting impatient and ripping my hands away and untucking the shirt and run my hands up under the shirt, feeling up on a gloriously warm chest with lithe, (lean?) muscles under my hands as I slide them up- I just wanted to do sooo many thing. Omg.
Seriously, my eye was twitching with my surprise and arousal. I felt like a freaked out prepubescent boy that was trying to hide his boner for the first time for fuck's sake. I didn't know how to handle my attraction. It was nerve-wracking. I was scared everyone on the train would see that I was thinking perverted thoughts. God I was in some kind of shock.
Guh, still thinking about that guy (who was probably an intern or looked younger than he was) makes me shiver with excitement and want. Ughhh. And I want.
Maybe his business suit just appealed to my fetish? After all, I scored high on self-sexual asexual and asexual fetishist. Perhaps (puede ser), I was just thinking of all the hot bdsmy sex? I'm not sure. Cause I wasn't actually thinking about sex itself, more like just making out with him. Hotly. Guh. I really wish I could have taken a picture of him. =_=
Ugh, damn him.
Love,
Natasha
P.S. Making out with Denzel wasn't fun. Last time I do that. He's clingy again now. I'm such a dumbass.
O.m.g. For the first time in my life 20 (well near twenty, I turn it tomorrow), I was actually sexually attracted to someone. Yesterday on the subway. I was sooo surprised. I had honestly seriously thought I was asexual. But I guess not. Well actually, perhaps I still am, just an asexual fetishist. But that's besides the point.
The point is this guy made me exited. Like, guh. He was so guapo. Around my age, I think Hispanic, but with really light skin like porcelain white. Wide face, yet defined cheekbones, hooded eyes, sort of slightly spiky hair, tall(ish), slim business suit with sharp angles, brief case, leather soles, just snazzy looking. I couldn't stop staring! Even when we got on the train, I could see his reflection from where he was facing a reflective surface away from me, so I could still stare (breaking periodically of course). But omfreakingod. That was the first time I wanted to do things to a person. Like, I wanted to wrap his tie around my hand and pull him down to my lips; I wanted to plant sensual hot kisses to the skin above his sharp crisp white collar, and flick my tongue out to get a taste of hot, male species with warm skin that I knew would warm me right up. Rip open the dark suit and run my hands down his white button down shirt and then sneak my hands through the button openings to get a feel of smooth hot skin before either unbuttoning the shirt or just getting impatient and ripping my hands away and untucking the shirt and run my hands up under the shirt, feeling up on a gloriously warm chest with lithe, (lean?) muscles under my hands as I slide them up- I just wanted to do sooo many thing. Omg.
Seriously, my eye was twitching with my surprise and arousal. I felt like a freaked out prepubescent boy that was trying to hide his boner for the first time for fuck's sake. I didn't know how to handle my attraction. It was nerve-wracking. I was scared everyone on the train would see that I was thinking perverted thoughts. God I was in some kind of shock.
Guh, still thinking about that guy (who was probably an intern or looked younger than he was) makes me shiver with excitement and want. Ughhh. And I want.
Maybe his business suit just appealed to my fetish? After all, I scored high on self-sexual asexual and asexual fetishist. Perhaps (puede ser), I was just thinking of all the hot bdsmy sex? I'm not sure. Cause I wasn't actually thinking about sex itself, more like just making out with him. Hotly. Guh. I really wish I could have taken a picture of him. =_=
Ugh, damn him.
Love,
Natasha
P.S. Making out with Denzel wasn't fun. Last time I do that. He's clingy again now. I'm such a dumbass.