I'm going to talk about my time with Slash. This is an in-depth talk. It may be graphic. It may annoy you. It may not be suitable for children, pretty popular girls, or quite a few other people.

It needs to be said, though.

We had sex. This is a very complicated statement, as you are no-doubt thinking 'missionary position' and wondering why I would have sex with someone I've not seen in two years, hated for part of that time, and just barely got back together with in any sense. Well, I am wondering it too. Cope. We all have to wonder, sometimes.

We played around. Fooled around. Played a bit heavier. Paddle. Straps. Cuffs. Leash. Bare hands and bare skin, he held me down at one point and I enjoyed it. I was satisfied.

I gave him a partial blowjob in the Grotto. Penetration, too... my pants around my ankles, his down as well, shifting and wriggling until we were both in position, and I was bitten to death by the mosquitoes - my own fault, yes, and worth it despite how much I bitch about the itching. And I WILL bitch, this is miserable.

We went downtown and to Best Buy, long bus-rides and max rides with my wrists cuffed together by the leash he held. Looks, so many looks, a conversation with a blonde who was quite a bit of a bitch, a friend of hers, and another friend, this one male - we were all oogling a girl with a nice ass.

Slash and I spent a LOT of time oogling. *wry grin* And admiring. And talking about what we would do, if we had this pretty little thing or that hot bitch or the other girls walking hand in hand over there... how we'd break them, how we'd tease them, what we liked and disliked about them.

Admiring the readhead, agreeing that she was the type you could walk up to, slap across the mouth, slam a collar around her throat, and just walk her out of the mall, she wouldn't protest.

Watching the boy who was slumped in front of an empty table, looking so alone, so lost, so sad. I could have had him, ten minutes tops. Made him mine. Could have. Didn't. Didn't even try... but watched, talking, until he left and the hunger for it went away. Slash... daya. He helped. Effectively talked me down. I wanted to hurt the boy, I did, but there was a better one sitting across from me, talking to me, one that maybe I could hurt a part of him, sometimes, and not REALLY hurt him.

Sieia-To... ah, but I'll not discuss that here, again. Enough of that.

Snuggles. I snuggled him. Was close. Remembered why I liked it... and why I didn't, he's HOT in bed, and I mean this in a temperature way. Too much warmth, it drove me half-mad a couple times, so much heat when I was already too hot.

Nearly got dehydrated. Still feel thirsty, it's disgusting. I could drink for hours - have been. I'm about to go get some caffeinated soda and drink it too, just so the caffeine craving headache goes away.

When I got home last night, so late... I came online briefly, angry, tired, wrote a bit, talked a bit, and went to bed. I left ICQ on... several people messaged me, I didn't even wake up. I was out cold. Tired... and trying to blank out my thoughts.

I still am, there's a bit of last night I find myself carefully avoiding. And that's all I'll say about it, right now.

But other than that... ah, do you know the mess I'm stuck in? His SO... she's worried. She says very little about it, but it is written all over her face, her eyes, in her actions. "Jax had him once. He still talked about her, still cared about her, after two years. She's the Enemy, why is he being so friendly and nice and accepting now? Is he going to leave me? Is he going to forget me? Will I be second girl on the chain now?"

That last phrase, that one, that's the one. Second girl. She knows, I think, that he won't leave her... but she wants to be First Girl, and is afraid that won't last. Realistically, that's a wise thing to worry about around me, because I am generally greedy and prefer to be First Girl myself... but this is not generally, not normally, not usual.

He belongs to her, and she to him - I'm at most, a friend. That's how it should be. I talk of a lot of things, dream of a lot of things... and given half a chance, I might try some of them. But I know, now that I am awake and sober, not distracted by pleasure or drama, that it would be bad if I did.

I need to remain free. I need to remember that I do NOT own him, not in any way. I need to keep in mind that I've a Kadin coming, that I've a Caleb here, that I've a Nick who would gladly claim me for his own if I let him. And in some ways he has... but so distant, so much to miss when he's gone.

I know exactly what I DO want. I know what would satisfy my hungers, and still leave me undamaged.

Will I have it?

No idea... I've not talked to Nick in a while, I don't even know how he is doing. *sigh*

"Give me a reason to love you... give me a reason to be a woman..." Portishead, the song is titled "Glory Box". It's in my thoughts.

I talk of love a lot more than I once did. I remember times when I wouldn't even say the word, not for months, for years... but now I toss it out for the slightest things. I say I love coffee, I love the night, I love the way fingers feel around my throat. I say I love Caleb, Kadin, Nick... my boys. Some things, though...

It would behoove me to be wary, now. I'll not say it aloud, not say it no matter how emotional I am at the moment. Not because it wouldn't be true - if I said it, I know that at the moment I spoke, I would mean it. Not because I think it would be a bad idea - it could potentially be a good one. But because I know, have always known, how shallowly I can mean things, how quick to change my emotions I truly am.

Surely he remembers this... months of "I love you", and then... two years of silence.

Surely that's not worth risking again. Not even if it's expected, not even if it's ok, not even if it would only be a mild risk. Not worth it.

S'ok, though.

Like I said earlier... I'm not REALLY swearing. Love isn't REALLY a curse. Right?