The Inner Slut

I am an angry person. I look at the skies and am reminded of past Christamases, the joy of family and the holidays, and my anger sits and waits patiently for me to forget. It doesn't take much for me to forget. And when I do, it looms above me and preys on my fears and insecurities. It thrives on them and grows fat on all my obsessions.

My anger is precious to me. How else to explain my reluctance to let it go? I am unhappy and lonely, and look to others to for the solution.

Mau has sent me email. He has read my blog and his honesty hurt. He saw the void in me and my need for "intense tomorrows" which he cannot give me. My anger flared up at this, of course, ignited by my pride. Again, another dickhead who thinks I'm after him for an LTR. I gave him the url to this blog as a sign of submission, an indication of surrender. I surrendered to him my self, the blog as a manifestation of self, a mirror of self, a record of self. To me, a very private person, this surrender is a death toll. If I wanted an LTR, I wouldn't go on personals sites and reply to invitations sent thru these sites. On these sites, I offer myself as a cunt, nothing more, nothing less. And I take them all as dick, nothing more, nothing less.

Now I take a deep breath and review...

I did say in my last post that I was scared of valuing another person more than he would ever value me; that I was scared of being emotionally attached to another who could never be mine.

The fact that I have these fears indicates that I am very much aware of the implications of an arrangement with Mau. It would be one of todays, nothing more, nothing less. These men are so arrogant to think that I am such a fool. I go to pieces under their strength and they see me as an idiot and a fool.

My fear of being used and discarded like a rag is very intimately related to my fear of being alone and unloved. These concepts need to be redefined.

My concept of love is tied up to the traditional concept of exclusivity. This has to be unlearned. I have already rejected exclusivity. My relationship with Nelson is proof enough of this. I have already recognized the fact, the reality, that I can never find everything in one man and one man alone. Hence, the presence of many men in my life.

Yesterday, I had lunch with Art. His desire for me was so strong, I could feel its groping hands all over me all throughout the meal. We walked around the mall for a while and he paid compliments on my feet and breasts. He paid me attention and was sweet and gallant and never condescending. He's good to look at and nice to smell, and he would touch me lightly everywhere. But he doesn't have the maturity of older men, that wisdom and knowing that penetrate my pretentions, no matter how deep and ingrained.

I will not pretend that I don't wish that I had someone like Mau to spend the rest of my life with. Someone strong and of like mind, to lead me on to higher levels of consciousness, to take me wherever he chooses to go. I will not pretend that I don't despair for this. But only because I am afraid of taking myself there, on my own. Only because I am afraid of my own strength that, should it take form and take charge, I shall truly and for all eternity be alone.

There. I've said it and confronted it and admitted it. And I accept it.

Most people will call it fate. I will not. I told Mau during that time we were together that I felt lost, as I could not feel his limits, his boundaries. Lost on the sea of Mau, I said. In retrospect, I was actually lost on my own unchartered seas.

Now, this is an interesting vision. I was very happily lost, blissful in my ignorance of that fact, until I met these men, Alex/Felix and Mau. They were bright stars on the horizon and, my seas being unchartered, I could not identify them and so, I could not tell whether I was headed north, south, east or west. This is the source of confusion for me. To be lost, and be made aware of this fact, is very unnerving.

I am afraid of being solely responsible for myself.

I feel like the Catholic God who came down to earth to escape himself, to throw away his godship and live as a man. He was crucified for that. Lesson learned: you cannot escape who you are. Let this cup pass, Jesus said in the Garden of Gethsemane. It did not. He died and was resurrected. Lesson learned: this, too, shall pass.

There is a void in me only I can fill. I looked to others when I should have looked to myself. So many things to unlearn.

So where does this place me vis-a-vis Mau? I am student. I should sit at his feet and learn from him. He has offered as much.

I finally met Mau last Sunday. Just to meet. He doesn't look anything like his picture that he sent me. He insists he is not a predator but that was exactly how he looked, sitting there across me at the table, sipping his coffee. As I felt his presence grow increasingly stronger, engulfing my own pitiful blind insignificant self, I could feel myself crumble and fall into pieces. It was strange but I actually distanced myself from me, watching everything from a safe place, with interesting results. I put up this wall of silence, and pulled in all my feelers from the outside world. I closed all the doors and windows but he was still inside my head. It hurt. We connected and it hurt.

Not that I didn't want Mau in. To be honest, I was ambiguous about the entire thing. I wanted him in my universe, but was afraid he would find it bare and boring. I was -- am -- afraid that he would find my feelings and thoughts petty and shallow, too self-involved. Yes, once again, I am up against rejection. It's the Alex/Felix experience all over again. With a significant difference.

I fell to pieces with Alex/Felix and grew angry with him. With Mau, I crumbled but didn't fall. It felt like I was suspended in mid-air, waiting to fall. Wanting to fall. I wanted to fall. I just didn't know how. And I was -- am -- scared to fall. Because I knew Mau would catch me should I fall. And that would be something I will never forget all my life.

A beautiful thing happened and I'm scared of it. I am finally confronted with a man who sees me and appreciates me for who I am and I am scared of him. I am assured of protection and tenderness, understanding and patience, and I am scared of the arrangement. I am scared of giving myself totally and being discarded after use. I am scared of being emotionally attached to someone who will never value me as much as I value him.

Be that as it may, I am prepared to meet my fears head on. I've found what I've been seeking all this time, a Dom. And he has succeeded where all the other self-styled Doms have failed: to have me submit. Yes, I've submitted. So this is how it feels. It's like how Kierkegaard described his leap of faith. This is my leap of faith. And if Mau doesn't pick me up from the ground where I feel myself to be, broken in tiny bits and pieces, then that's a risk I just have to face.

So many things have happened in my life so many times, enough to crush me, enough to crush anyone, and yet I'm still here. One more heartbreak won't make much of a difference. It'll hurt like hell, I'm sure it will, but I will survive. I always do. I die, I rise from the ashes, to die again.

As a sign of submission, I volunteered the information that I have this blog, this online journal, to Mau. I sent him the url to this blog. He has not responded yet. It hurts to wait for a response. But he did promise that should he no longer be interested in me, he will let me know. I know he will.

I was supposed to meet with Art and Anna last Saturday, for that threesome at last. It didn't push through. Art said it was because Anna still had her period. I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. And then she left for Singapore for the week. She's supposed to come home tomorrow, Sunday. So no go. I was on the phone with Art a couple of times this week. Earlier, he floated the idea that he wanted to go see this movie. Then yesterday, he asked me if I wanted to see the movie with him, only to change his mind later on in the day. I guess he's just avoiding getting into anything with me on his own, without Ana and without her knowing it. I can respect that.

My Biker Boy, Dale, sent me SMS asking to see me again. I couldn't schedule him this
weekend as my sked's already full. Neither could I see him next week, as I'm having my period sometime Wednesday. And I'm seeing this American guy on Monday -- with Nelson. Finally, I think I'm gonna have a threesome with two guys. I'm actually apprehensive. I don't exactly know what's gonna happen. But at least, Nelson's gonna be there.

Today, I'm seeing this American guy from Hong Kong. He used to be with the US military, and he's into serious bondage. He says he'll try to get in touch with his friend here in Manila to join us. If she does, then it's gonna be a threesome with two women. Geno, the HK-based Yank, says she's bi and is very interested in playing with me. He probably sent her my foto. I just hope that she's clean and not bad-looking and foul-smelling.

Soulmate

I have been exchanging emails with Mau, a Colombian guy living in Davao, working for a trading firm exporting fresh fruits from Mindanao. He's 47, and not bad-looking, although a bit on the lean side. However, he claims to be well-endowed. We've talked on the phone twice already and I like his voice, very deep and manly. He sounds like Alex/Felix.

Makes me wonder if I'm looking for substitutes: Louis for Renaud; Mau for Alex/Felix. I hope not. I can't get rid of this competitive nature, and I feel that I'm secretly competing with Mara. I feel though that I can easily outpace Mara in terms of alternative sexual activities. She just does BDSM; she's not into couples or groups, although she did say once that she had tried it with a woman using dildos. So am I doing this because of Mara? Nah. I'm just plain horny.

Anyway. The exchange of emails between Mau and me has been very inspiring. This is an intelligent and sensitive man, very poetic and philosophical in his dealings with people and the world. He's actually a breath of fresh air in this jaded world, my almost crumbling universe, held together only by old hopes and struggling dreams.

Comments

I received a comment to an earlier post and I'm feeling ambiguous on writing about it. I was pretending to be writing in a private journal when I very well knew that this is a public forum. The fact that I put in a tool for interaction means that I'm open to responses from the public. In fact, I make it a point not to use cultural indices (at least, I make a conscious effort not to) in view of the diversity of the readership. So, thank you to Me, 23, female who gave in her comment.

Yes, it is a personal and sexual awakening for me. It's actually a conscious opening up of self to all the hurts and pain that the world has to offer, along with all its beauty and inspiration. I've lived in this world for forty years. It's about time I truly experienced it in all its glorious sadness.

My meeting with Bond didn't push through. Neither did the Saturday tryst with Art and Anna. Art's not even calling up on the phone anymore. He did once this week, after I had sent him SMS. Ana's gone to Singapore for the week. She's coming back this Sunday. They're a couple of pretentious people but if I can take Mara, I can take these two. Besides, I'd love to see what Art has to offer.

Dale

My Biker Boy. He's 47, around 5'5", stocky, balding. The GM for this garments business that supplies garments for Anne Klein. Whoa. So the first thing I asked him was to inform me when the next surplus sale at the factory was going to be. He's also a member of the biker group, Mad Dog.

It was the most amazing three hours of my adult life, the time I spent with Dale. He didn't fuck me with his cock, but I came so much in a way I never experienced in my entire sex life. He used his fingers -- all of them. He'd eat my pussy and suck on my clit, and then he'd fuck me with his fingers. It was amazing. I came so much and my cum was so different: not creamy and oozing, but wet like water and flowing. I squirted cum through his fingers, splashing it all over my tummy and thighs. I couldn't believe it. And I came so many times like that, not just once. Or twice. Or thrice, even. I must've cum like that at least ten times. The sheets were so wet, there was hardly any dry spot left on the bed to lie on.

Days after that, I swear I didn't think of sex at all. I felt all aglow and so at ease with myself. Hallelujah! It's a miracle. So that's how it feels to be so sexually gratified. Now I know. My standards seem to be going up. It's gonna be difficult to get a guy who can perform like that.

Dale is the sweetest of men. The attention he gave me was amazing. I didn't get up for anything. Everything was handed to me: tea, towels, soap, everything. None of the men I've met so far had been this attentive to me. Not even Bond. Free spirit that one was, but certainly not a gentleman. Oh, well. It does take all kinds.

I met Louis yesterday, Wednesday, for breakfast. He was on time. Not that I was surprised. Just noting. He stated in his profile that he was athletic and handsome. Well, he's athletic, alright. But not much else although he isn't what you'd call ugly. he's just not handsome.

Louis

He has a short forehead. His eyes were not that blue. In fact, they looked like a washed out blue. His unbridled passion compensated for his physiologic inadequacies. Average-sized cock. Not very hard as it kept slipping out but it felt good up my ass. I didn't come at all, I think. Not very satisfying but I would definitely see him again. Why?

There are men who fuck really well but make you feel bad about yourself. That's Alex/Felix and his group of arrogant dickheads. And then there are men who, although they don't perform well in the sexual act, make you feel like a million bucks. That's Louis. He kissed my forehead very gently, then my cheeks, down to my neck. He loved my breasts and nibbled and sucked on my nipples. He increasingly became rougher as we progressed. He slipped in his fingers in my pussy and up my ass while he sucked on my clit. It hurt and wasn't very pleasurable, but he so obviously enjoyed it, I let him be.

Interestingly, he's one of Mara's rejects. Apparently, Mara was expecting a European who was into the BDSM scene. As Louis wasn't, Mara never responded to his follow up emails or text messages. They met once and that was only for preliminaries. Perhaps because Louis was not a looker, unlike Renaud who is definitely handsome and fully aware of that fact.

Louis is a warm soul, a dedicated father to his kids. There is no mean streak to him. Thus, only plain vanilla. No alternative stuff for this guy. The most charming and heartwarming thing he said to me was that I had so much to offer. That was after he had cum and was resting from all his efforts. It's fantastic.

As we were dressing up, I heard him whistling a tune. I didn't recognize what it was but it sounded beautiful. I can whistle but I can't whistle a tune. It turns out that he was a musician when he was young, playing the sax and the guitar. Classical guitar, at that. This is such a talented and warm, intelligent man in his early 40s. And he's just a few of those who contacted me right after an encounter, not for anything else but to thank me. He said he felt so regenerated after his time with me. That felt good, to be affirmed like that. The only guy to do it as well was Kenny.

Kenny

This guy sent me email just to tell me that he was back in Hong Kong and that he had a wonderful time with me. Again, small dick but huge heart, lots of warmth and spirit. This seems to be an emerging pattern. Interesting.

Bond

I was surprised early this week to receive a text message from Bond, asking for another session. Only if I were interested, he goes. Sweet guy. Ok, this is a sweet fella, large dick -- 8 or 9 inches, I would say, and thick -- not gallant at all, a free spirit in every sense of the word, looks after his money well. He doesn't fit into the pattern but he's not a perfect specimen either. You can't hold on to him. That's scary. Not that I would want to. There is no certainty to the guy. You can't tell if you're really important or significant enough for him to come back to. You're always left hanging. No security there.

We're meeting tomorrow after work. I hope I'm not too tired from gym to have fun with this ride.

The 29th came and went and...well, no Gianni. In fact, after that last phnoe call when he exploded so nicely and loudly in my ear, he never called again. In fact, that last phone call was so abruptly ended, I never got to hear him finish panting after all that exertion. The only logical conclusion, of course, is that he only wanted to stare at my fotos and listen to my voice while he jacked off. Considering that he was calling from Hong Kong, I guess I should be flattered. That was quite an expensive blowjob. Well, another lesson learned.

Last Friday, I was at Nelson's place. He's becoming more and more aggressive with me. He stuck all four fingers in my pussy and fucked me like that for a long time. My pussy was so sore. Of course, it didn't help that, before that, I was with this Brit Wednesday evening.

Bond

Bond' 45 and he has this "007" tattooed above his left nipple where he has a ring. And it doesn't stop there. He has another at the tip of his cock which is huge. He is the biggest I've had so far. And it hurt. Not because of the ring but simply because of the size.

He's the proverbial free spirit. Dive instructor, based presently in Palau, goes wherever his job takes him. He says he used to be married and has three daughters. Asked why he's called Bond, he says it's because of all the women he's seduced. I'm not surprised, because I've never met any man so sensitive and so attuned to me and my thoughts so well. It was like he knew where I was coming from and where I was going. Eerie. Uncanny. So it wasn't surprising that he was into pranic or spiritual healing.

It must be so great to go diving down into the deep blue of the ocean. Bond told me about this one time he was swimming alongside this whale shark. I found it so amazing that the whale was aware of the diver alongside it. I suppose that kind of environment changes a person, makes him more at peace with the world and with himself. I suppose that's what happened in Bond's case.

Kenny

Yet another Brit from Hong Kong. He came in late Friday evening and called up the next day. We met for lunch and had sex till 2.30 in the afternoon. He's from Scotland but, no, he doesn't own a kilt nor has he ever worn one. And, yes, he confirmed that they don't wear anything underneath. I asked him to say something unintelligible in Scottish and he very gamely agreed. It sounded German. He loves movies and books. We talked about Robert Burns and his poems. We hit it off very nicely.

He has a very charming smile, with dimples on his fat cheeks, but only a small dick. It was a good thing that I had Nelson the day before and my pussy still sore from his efforts. Otherwise, Kenny would have been very frustrating. But he's very sweet. I hope I see him again. I promised him that the next time he comes to Manila, he should stay a bit longer so I could show him around.

Art & Anna

Nelson and I've been actively seeking a couple to swing with. There've been some candidates but the most aggressive have been Art and Anna. She's 43 and he's 35. I met them last Saturday and it turns out that Art's Anna's second husband. She had the first marriage annulled.

Art and I've been talking on the phone for the past two weeks before that meeting so there wasn't much tension there. Not that there was a lot with Anna. She had a firm handshake, like a man's. She was taller than me, maybe 5'9" or even 5'10" to my 5'7" and wide hips, big butt, smaller upper body. But her profile lists her breastsize at 38C.

Art, on the other hand, is a hell of a handsome hunk. Tall, very dark, well-proportioned, and what biceps. I can't wait to see those thighs. And he very clearly was hot for me that time. He kept encouraging Anna to go and check out the pastries on the counter, or go to the ladies' room, or this and that, so he could have me alone. But he didn't make any proposals, interesting or otherwise. Apparently, he looks to Anna to make the decisions. Anna, I suppose, is a dominatrix in the making. She's just not aware of it.

I would really like to try it with a woman, especially one as firm and aggressive as Anna but, in this case, I'd really like to get Art alone for a one-on-one first. He is so manly, a virtual testosterone factory.

I met them at 4.30 in the afternoon. They had a dinner at 7.30 that evening. Anna tried to get Art away three times, worrying about the traffic, before he finally agreed. There was even a proposal to get back together after the dinner, for sex, but I declined, saying that would be too late. It was Anna's idea, really. I don't know how to take it, having a woman go so aggressively after me. It was, however, Art's animal interest in me that I found exciting. I say, animal, because that's what it felt like: I was the prey being eyed by two predators, one fiercer than the other, and I found it extremely exciting. It's a sub's dream come true, two dominants tearing me apart and having their way with me.

That didn't stop there, either. at around 9.30 that night, Art sent me a text message saying that Anna was inviting me again for sex later. I declined, being very tired already and in bed, and told him that we should set it up right. I reminded him that patience is a virtue.

For some people, yes, it's a virtue. For me, it's a means to an end. Let's whet his appetite a bit more and let's see if he's going to ask me out for a one-on-one. Anna's having her period this week so she won't be available for any fun till early next week. Plus, she's going to Singapore sometime in the near future. I'm hoping that would encourage Art to see me alone.

Nelson doesn't know that I've met Art and Anna. In fact, I think that the couple isn't as interested in Nelson as they are in me. I'm rather hesitant to have Nelson and Anna in one room. They're two very aggressive people. But I suppose Nelson will be able to rise to the challenge and charm Anna to doing what he wants her to do. He's very good at that.

The Gym

Tuesday last week, I enrolled myself in a gym. Good bargain. Great place, very clean, very professional equipment and trainers. Let's see where this goes. I really would like to lose weight (I'm 20 lbs. overweight) and tone my body. As I told Nelson, it's jsut a matter of time before I get strong enough to squat on him and fuck him the way he likes it done. The problem with me is that I tire so very easily. No stamina. That's the main reason why I'm so lazy during sex. I want to be more active. I'd like to sit on cock and make myself come again and again.

Louis

I'm meeting Louis on Thursday freo breakfast and perhaps more. He's French, in his forties, an engineer working as a consultant in a water utility. His favorite phrase: very busy.

I don't know what it is with these Europeans. They're always very busy. Renaud was like that. In his case, I know now what "very busy" meant: too busy to see me ever again. It seems that European men are wary of the Filipina getting attached to foreign men. Not that I blame them. Most Filipinas who engage in sex with foreigners do want to get hitched, for the main purpose of getting financial support for their extended families.

I guess I'll just have to set Louis straight from the start. I do, however, find it extremely insulting to be lumped together with these desperate women. I make no judgment calls here. Life is what it is. You survive in whatever means available to you. It's just that all this arrogance is making me really angry.

I'm surrounded by arrogant people, both local and foreign. And it's not just about sex, either. In the workplace, in school, in the courts -- it's everywhere.

Arrogance.

I never knew that there were so many painful ways to die quietly.