The Difference Between Me and Me

Lately I've been thinking about the difference between my blog persona (Eve) and the "real" me. I've been wondering how much of a difference there is between these two characters, if you will. Everything I write, even the fiction, comes from the "real" me. What you're reading is written in my voice. I haven't made anything up or adopted any characteristics that might be attributed to Eve, but not to me.

But, there is a temptation.

It's appealing, the idea of creating a different character for myself. Acting on-line. Concoting someone with an entirely different life. Other experiences, new parents and family, fictional accounts of all kinds of sexual adventures that are not my own. It's an enticing thought, but it's not me, not here.

I haven't revealed much about myself here but what you do know is fact. The intimate and detailed experiences and fantasies recorded here are more than any person in my true life know about me. Except, perhaps, for a few lovers who I've let in on the secret and led them to this blog. They are the only ones (and, as I give it any thought, it is only one man) who can put a face and a body to the gyrations on the page. So, perhaps, there is only one person that sees the woman and the pseudonym as one.

So, I've been wondering if the blog persona and the non-blog persona, are different. And, I realize, they are not. What you read is the composite me, in so much as we are all composites of our experiences. Traveling through our lives like comets, picking up debris, both good and bad, and adding it to our selves. Amalgams of the worlds we inhabit.

A Me by any other name...

’Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.
What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O! be some other name:
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;

O! be some other name -

be Eve.

Summertime Sabbatical

That's right. I'm off again for a long weekend. I have no spicy prose for you anyway, just now, so maybe it's the perfect time to slip away from the blog.

I will admit though (because I know you all want to hear about it and because I'm really dying to tell you) that I've been making like May and masturbating a bit. So, there you go. All is not lost.

Enjoy till next week when I return with tan lines extraordinaire.

Note to commenters: I monitor all comments, so if you post something be a little patient. I'll make sure to put it on the blog when I return.

The Opposite of Horny

Sex has not been on my mind, of late. (And, by “of late” I mean the last few days.) I haven’t been pondering a pounding, as it were, by some gorgeous, well-hung, hunk of a 20-something. This image, as pretty as it may be, doesn’t make my blood quicken, my cunt clench and moisten, my breathing shallow.

This could be, I hesitate to say, hormonal. I’ve had a few “symptoms” that foretell an imminent hormonal change, and this could be one. I’ve prided myself on, so far, having retained my libido at a time when, I’m told, it could be on the wane. I haven’t lost my umpf, or my juice. I haven’t dried up. I’m a little nervous and wondering if this could be the beginning of such a thing. I try to perish that thought, but it arises and, frankly, that makes my blood quicken. With anxiety.

Can that sort of change happen so quickly? Almost overnight, or within such a short time? I'm thinking not. Considering just last week I had hot, hot phone sex with this fellow.

Perhaps I'm in a place where I want my sexual attentions to come from a partner, a lover, a boyfriend, a mate, or, dare I say, a husband. Someone who knows me intimately, not just because he wants to fuck me (or anybody), but because he wants to know me. His interest in me lies deeper than the depth of my pussy. When the ropes are untied and the toys are put away, we can lie together in confidence and silence.

In fact, I've felt that for some time now. Tiring of disconnected, unapologetic sex with nearly anonymous men, I long for someone who knows me. But, I've thought, I don't need to be chaste while I'm waiting. I can have a little fun in the mean time. I'm wondering if that isn't what's making the search more difficult. If somehow I'm imbued with an aura of the nonchalant connection.

Whatever the case, or the reason, I'm far from horny right now.

So, please accept this post by way of an apology. I am remiss in causing your blackberry screen to steam up as you feverishly scroll down to the finale of something sordid and dirty dreamt up, or lived, by yours truly.

I have no doubt my libido will come around again. And probably not too long from now. And I assure you, I won't leave you out of the proceedings.

HNT - August 2

And just a little more skin....

Well, actually, it's quite a lot more skin.

This is dangerously exciting.

Happy HNT!