Tonight is one of those nights when I try crying to myself, but no tears flow out. I don’t know why.

Tonight is one of those nights, when I know I will try to fake intimacy with you, when I wake up the next day with you by my side.

It hurts knowing I have to type all these, with the chance of you reading the post.

I start to think,

Will I ever do something to stop you from reading my post?

Perhaps a new address – no, I don’t mind starting afresh.

Perhaps a restricted access – with whatever reason I can come up with.

Perhaps just closing the blog down – it ended when it started.

Tonight is one of those nights, when I feel disgusted looking at you in the eyes.

Tonight is one of those nights, when I want to give up everything just to get you out of my life.

Tonight is one of those nights, when I forget the things that you have done for me, but start wondering what would life be without you in my life?

One of those nights… do you understand where I am heading?

At least we will be worlds apart, as literally as it can get.

Shoot me.

I have always wondered about the value of friendship, when bulk of the time, people meet over dinner and drinks to bitch about other people.

Fact is, most of these opinions are NOT real. I don’t know what is worse - being judgemental or laughing at the expense of other people. Sometimes, when the devil in me starts to act up, I tend to push people a little more. So, why did you say that? Is that a fair statement? I wish more people can answer me objectively.

People don’t seem to embrace differences in this world, as much as they claimed to. They form an opinion all too quicky and I guess the biggest implication is that they are dying to share. It is as if being an information provider will score them more points - they want to be THAT sociable person with the most news in town.

It shouldn’t be that way.

Respect a person. If you need to make an opinion about someone, let it be constructive. At least, let the person know why he was judged that way, before issuing him the social death penalty.

You have a sharp tongue, but that person may have a weak heart. You don’t know how fatal it will be. Be considerate.

In between gasps and an intentional effort to watch him devour me like a hungry desperate man, I saw a red light flickering in the apartment across mine. Only then I realised my curtains were barely drawn. I grew guardful.

“Are you sure you want to leave the curtains open? Can we stop to draw them?” I asked, undecisively.

He ignored and crawled got on top of me instead, classic 69 position, with his balls dangling less than a centimetre from my mouth. I took them in like tea bags, dipping in and out of my mouth.

Then it became a battle of the tongues. We flicked, licked and darted. Neither of us wanted to lose. Our bodies danced in syncronization with each other. It was as if we had something to prove to that somebody who could be watching us. The initial worrying thoughts (Who was that? Are we caught on flim?) were overthrown when the porn stars in us took control of the situation. We were natural performers who adored the limelight.

I smiled as my eyes met the flashing red light once again. I knew who was watching. It could be the neighbour who left me the note. Or… maybe not.

It’s been some time since I surfed other sex blogs but I noticed a strangely disturbing scene.

Good (sex) blogs that have decent writing are dying.  It isn’t difficult to justify the lack of updates – good posts do take time to craft. Words are picked carefully, structures are formed, but there seem to be a lack of appreciation. It’s hard to deny that we do need readers’ motivation to share more. After all, a sex blogger usually has an exhibitionist character, so attention is more than neccesary.

Then I ponder about the staying power of a sex blog. How long can we last? And what makes us?

I thought pictorial blogs will die easily – after all, same boobs, same pussy, same angles. Months and years passed, nothing moves on… perhaps except for effects of gravity. I don’t think it should be that physical. Nor that superficial. However, apparently not. Blogs like that survived, way better than others. Sex sells, doesn’t it? As literally as it can get, a picture is indeed worth a thousand words. One naked picture beats a carefully crafted 1000-word post. Is this for joy? I don’t know.

It’s tricky.

If you have to choose, what’s more naked to you? Baring our body or baring our (sexual & non-sexual) thoughts?

I don’t know what conclusion to draw. I think it’s just a different tier. A different taste. Or perhaps, just different audience.

I miss those days when the blog community was much more active. It’s also funny to note that male bloggers stay on the surface way longer. A few lady bloggers whom (in my opinion) can write have gone missing. Perhaps there are just more reservation for a girl to share. Where is the lady that first started the “One Orgasm A Day” blog? I wish she sticked around longer.

Have you ever read a blog and went, “I can relate to this person. There is a special bond. I don’t know why, but there is. It’s real.”?

Sometimes I thought I found it, but then it went missing shortly. It’s like a bad breakup – I wish there were more reasons given before I was ditched.

I wish there are avenues in life where you can get to know someone in its entirety – friends, family, relationship, sex. There’s no pressure to be politically or even morally right. You are who you are. I thought that will be found in blogging. Maybe, not yet.

Check this out: Great Wall of Vagina

Valentine’s Day flew by. What’s memorable about this date is always the sight of stressful men at flowershops. Roses? 1? 2? or 3? It’s cruel – the game that how cupid plays on couples, isn’t it? I skipped the commercial date night and had a great time cooking and eating at home, whilst watching drama on the computer. Who say you need to make reservations way  in advance, pay X dollars for some dinner sets and receive expensive presents, in order to be happy? Why complicate love with materialism?

I am getting torn by porn. Not physically, of course. Yeah, you wish. Japanese porn has ridiculous acts, but yet to be honest, they put in more effort than American porn for acting and story lines. Don’t you hate how you were initially led into thinking that it is a true clip and then suddenly the lead actress stares right at you and give you that slutty fuck-me look? Well, since porn is meant to deceive, I rather they deceive me right from the start until the very end.

It’s a strange month. One of my male friends was angry because a lady that he was interested in met him up to just have a fuck. Booty call at 4am. He went, he fucked and then she fucked him up further by not returning his calls. Interesting. Since when did gender roles reverse? I told him he should charge her money… for taking his virginity away. Told you, roles are changing. Women taking men’s virginity away? WOW… I didn’t there are men who are still virgins!

Work’s getting easier. Or at least in terms of work flow. It’s funny. As much as I hate routines, I realise I do need them in order to make my life better. So now, I have finally regained some free time for my social life and hopefully, even more so, for my blog.

Check this clip out. Click here.

This is my fantasy. I’ll do this one day.

Wait for me while I find my guts (and a decent size towel).

I no longer believe in stories like, “They have been together for x years but they are still virgins. They are waiting for marriage.” I mean, how is it possible to constantly kiss and hug and yet not venture further?

When people say that marriage is the grave to romance, that’s because back in the olden days, people do not have sex before marriage. When sex is bad and in times of quarrel, there really isn’t a way for people to kiss, make out and then make up. Do you seriously want that to happen? (Psst: angry sex can be hot. The aggression – oohlala!) It’s 2012. I think the right mindset today should be: bad sex after marriage is the grave to romance.

It’s like heading to the mall to shop. I never like the idea of “once broken, considered sold”. I prefer it when there are free trials, so that I know what I am getting into. After all, sex is a huge component of a relationship, or even marriage. In fact, aim for more sex during the relationship. We know that sex will get worse (in both quantity and quality) the longer we date a person. So it’s mathematical. Start with a large number (say everyday), then when it eventually cuts down, it won’t get too low.

Happy New Year. If 21st December 2012 is supposedly to be the end of the world, you wouldn’t want to die a virgin, would you?

As he walked me home along a quiet street, I found myself asking him unbashfully, “hey, how about a quickie at my place?”

He didn’t say no. I probably had him prepared when I deliberately caused his hand brush across my breasts as we were buying drinks. Clearly, there wasn’t a bra under the sweatshirt that I was wearing.

We wasted no time as he had to get back to work. We started making out barely a metre from my house door. I’m not sure if you agree, but there’s something really sexy about a man in working pants.

I hastily cleared the area in front of my full length mirror, where we stood right in front of it. I bent forward, watching my breasts bounced up and down as he took me from the back.  I loved how my juices were making me proud by throroughly wetting his balls so effortlessly.

“You are a porn star. Look.” I drew him into my fantasy. Or maybe it was his. With him then seated on a chair, I started grinding my hips while his tongue teased my erected nipples. The chair was a perfect height for us – when it was my turn to sit, he fucked me with my legs hung high up in the air, and every single thrust (I’m not kidding you) hit my aching G-spot.

I came hard. So did he. So this is it: dessert after lunch. Or maybe this was the main course. I’m not too sure about that. It doesn’t matter, I suppose.