Unblog

It has been ten days since I last posted, and that post hardly logged any activity. So I am seriously behind.

Off the top of my head, what do I remember? A night at the Astor with D, preceded by some activity in the afternoon and evening, and succeeded by a morning's worth of fucking too. A Thursday morning in my apartment with Q - thoroughly delightful. Some more time with D at the Kew. I have seen F a few times, Q once more, D even more than usual thanks to her need to use up accumulated off days before the year expires. J I visited just once. So plenty of sex, and all of it good. All of it excellent, in fact. Yet each woman is distinct, peculiar, discrete, particular.

At some crude and cursory level of description, fucking D is like fucking Q - a cock, a cunt, penetration, thrusting, grinding, orgasms, sweat. Sex that is going on only at this level of attention and awareness - porn sex - is barely worth getting out of bed for, and whether you have this kind of sex with one person or many does not really seem to matter. The only reason to be discontented with a sex-life built around this kind of sex is if you don't get enough, whatever the hell 'enough' means. I don't get any sex like that at all, and don't want any. To me, fucking D is no more like fucking Q than talking to D is like talking to Q - and that they are very different to talk to anyone would agree who knew them both (though I doubt that there is in fact anyone besides me in that category). Have I had a lot of sex in the last two weeks? Yes. A fuck of a lot. But the quantitative question, and its answer, misses almost everything. So, then, does this post.