Mia asked: How far would you go? And then Natalie claimed here: "There is nothing I wouldn’t do for true love…"

And while that post was about sexual limits and compatibility, I did wonder what limits she had that weren't bounded by the bedroom...

What is “true” love? How far would I go for it? And would I even recognize it, even if it slapped me in the face? (or walked up and kissed me)

It would be nice to think that all those who stand before friends and/or their God and join in marriage are in love? But of course this is a naïve view as many marry for security, money, a passport, convenience or to even put respectability on a mistake…and yes some people really do marry for love., about 48% if you believe the divorce statistics.

So then does this suggest that people marry poorly, or rather that many marry before they know themselves sufficiently to be able to truly love another…or is it the natural way of things, that some things are not meant to last…which I really struggle to believe since my parents have been married for 40 years and are still going strong.

I know Mia was merely asking about physical distance when she asked “how far would you go?” but I have to wonder if she meant something so much more…I wondered at how often, how far, at what cost to hip and heart, what would you give up, leave, or even take on, what mantle would you wear, how far would you really take yourself, your life and your dreams, for love?

But where would you find such a thing? And how would you know? Or is that really unimportant, the “knowing”, would as I read somewhere (that I cannot locate or recall) “the heart truly crawl across broken ground for the taste of love”, is that what truly matters, that romantic spirits live and hearts try to join with another…

If technology and in particular this online medium is reducing distance and truly creating a global village, how far is too far? Online dating, once the domain of those desperate and lacking social grace has hit mainstream as well educated professionals utilize the search function to quickly wade through potential “dates” and are able, if filled out honestly, to search for someone who is closely matched to their ideal. The modern take on this is the removal of stress and the “sleaze” factor of bars and night-spots, not to mention the time savings in our already busy lives…in some areas it is no longer regarded as strange to say “we met online dating”, it is becoming normal.

I have to wonder are Blogs the next logical step…the look inside someone’s bared soul and open mind. Is it a way to see the person, before you as it so happens…do? Is Blogging the next insight into people and compatibility? Can you really meet online? Can you engage, impress and pique interest enough to warrant a meeting, and if so how far is too far…or is it as Natalie claimed, there no distance really too great for a journey of the heart? Can the crushes that exist online, like they do in the real world, when revealed, grow to something more? Or are they the sole domain of a digital exchange?

If I wonder at the distance one would travel, and the changes one would make, if online meetings can work do you drop the veil so carefully constructed here, and lose your Anonymity…even to just one person, or perhaps more importantly, for the one person?

I have moved towns; I have flown from one country to another to meet an interest…not once but at least three times, and one really was the other side of the world. I have done the LDR thing twice and only once stumbled over trust, I have sold cars, brought cars, packed possessions, I have lost “stuff” and once after a break-up I engaged in retail therapy of the male kind and brought a home, I have fallen down more times than I really care to recall in the quest for “true” love, but then I think more than a single time is perhaps too much….once I even left a job I loved, to move countries for a woman, only to have it all unravel at the last moment and leave me slightly adrift*.

And probably the most insightful thing I have learnt through out all this is simply…

…that I would do it all again tomorrow if I thought I had met someone with whom there was the spark and there existed a chance for “true” love, I would do it all again, in a heartbeat.

How far would you go for "true" love?

* In hindsight this was a really good break-up, I landed very firmly on my feet, and I like where I ended up, and who the resulting reflection left behind, so I really can’t complain too much.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 00:01 12 comment(s)

As a kid, summer was punctuated by many things, the cricket, smell of impending storms and fresh cut grass, the sizzle of snags on the Barbie and family outings to the beach.

As a right of passage nothing really showed the true character of the members of my family like the family trip…and I’m not talking the long 3 week road trip, that once ended in a storm wrecked set of frayed nerves in a Glenelg caravan park, but rather the sudden waking trip in which Dad in his morning magnificence decides “we’re going to the beach”

The beach for me, like so many of my countrymen and women, is so wrapped up in our identity that it forms part of our soul. For me it was thus. I didn’t grow up in the country, I missed out on the other big part of our national psyche, and it was only as an adult that I lived in “the bush”, learnt to feel it rhythms, taste its dust and sweat the drops needed to see into its simple beauty. As an adult I looked with adult eyes and it probably made a big difference, my innocence was gone I had lost that somewhere on the beach.

A big part of the beach is “fish and chips”, and I loved the salty taste that cracked lips and was washed down with gallons of coke. I still love fish and chips, fresh bread and butter buty's, and the shrill cry of the Sea Gulls ‘mine, mine, mine” as they circle waiting to be fed, as they oft time are.

But places change…images become confused and modern consumerism, has meant that the chips of old are sad reflections of there former self…hollow processed and frozen shells. Not the peeled and washed spuds of my youth…where you’d get scraps and chips of all sizes, perfectly designed to jigsaw puzzle on the slice of white bread ready for eager consumption.

I lament the passing of the real chip…until this summer (Christmas if you’re from the wrong half of the world) I found, tucked into the corner of suburbia of all places, the beach nowhere to be found, a fish and chip shop doing the chips the proper way…

Sure, they no longer come wrapped in newspaper, or paper even, but rather a cardboard tray, they cost much more than the "dollar of chips" of my youth, but they tasted divine, and with a fresh loaf of Tip-Top relaxing by the pool at home, I was in heaven.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 7 comment(s)

Much the same way as silicon perfect breasts at 25 look slightly odd on a 60 year old, a tattoo while being the height of fashion at this age may look a bit out of place amongst a sea of wrinkles and sagging skin at 60…
…but the physical aesthetics of 35 years of life changing experiences aside, are tattoos sexy?

Simply...yes.

There is something sexy about a tattoo on a woman’s lower back, peeking above her thong, revealed by low slung pants or skirt…the lower back bare to the edge of a tight crop top…mmm. The way it is designed as an “arrow” to point lower: to forbidden areas. Or high on the shoulder blade, flicking hair and spaghetti strap top revealing tantalising glimpses, or the hip tattoo peaking over low cut jeans, just begging to be kissed...

Maybe because a well done tattoo is a mark of the individual. With you for life a tattoo is unchangeable and drunken Rugby binges and “it seemed like a good idea at the time” moments aside, tattoo’s should be chosen with care and consideration of who you are and what the ink will say about you. Not just a pick and stick variety but a well thought out, well inked tattoo, subtly displayed by the flash or cut of clothes is sexy, it screams confidence…while a generic tribal says “fashion slave” at best, or “wanker” at worst.

Which is why any tattoo must be chosen with care, a Daffy Duck on your arm may seem cute, but do you really want to spend your life with Hello Kitty tattooed on your booty…also, never tattoo a persons name unless it’s that of your child…a lover is too fleeting for the eternal remembrance and honour of space on your skin. Though for some even this is "right thing" to do and symbolises an "ownership" that goes with giving one's heart...and body.

Let the tattoo talk about “who” and “what” you are, let it be you, let it mirror the confidence in where you are from, and the faith you have in yourself and it will become a part of you not just another mask or a veil to hide behind while creating a façade of belonging. Make it as original as you are and it can be a beautiful, sexy, even sensual thing…and in the right place, you may find it irresistible to the touch and kisses of a lover.

Now how can that be anything but sexy?

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 13 comment(s)

Slowly, cautiously his fingers traced the line over her thigh, upward, gently brushing aside the soft gauze of her skirt, the filmy barrier offering only token resistance to his gently searching hand…eyes focused on each other, looking for sign to stop his tracing pattern that brings a soft moan from her lips, a small shiver from her and his sure movements erase the fear tinged longing that she feels…

…mouths searching for each other, lips entwine as tongues gently probe and search out, exploring…moving over lips across cheek and onto neck and shoulder…

…grazing fingertips lightly over her, his fear for her holding his desire to consume and possess in check, he looks again questioningly at her eyes, half closed in the wonder of the moment…his pause snaps them open, his questioning look and softened smile is returned with a nod and they continue to paint on the blank canvas that is hers to give…

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 14 comment(s)

Do you compare? When you go out to purchase an item, do you compare the cost to your wallet, the overall usefulness and the ascetic quality of a product before you exchange currency to make it yours.

Is it really any different with your heart?

I don’t think so. It would be nice to say that we don’t compare, that each person is weighed upon their merits, but if so what is the yardstick used to measure a persons worth. People compare all the time, it is done sometimes unconsciously but usually with the pragmatic appraisal of past experience. How else could you claim that this is the most gorgeous sunset you have ever seen, or as was said to me recently "that I must have those heels" or perhaps that an individual is the most talented lover you have known. The answer is simple: you compare.

I know I do. And if I didn’t compare, if I didn’t appraise a persons intrinsic and extrinsic value and contribution to enhance my life, wouldn’t I simply be settling on the next person who came along. Without the ability and desire to compare how would I make a value judgment on who was worthy of my time. And I don’t mean that in a haughty way, but my time is the most precious thing I own, it is the only thing I have that is mine to truly give, and the fact that I don’t know how much of it I have makes the giving of it even more valuable. I don’t want to give my time, and ultimately my heart to just anyone, so I compare.

I’m not saying that the person you give your heart too will be the best at everything you ever desired, everything positive you experienced in past loves, but I am willing to bet that they will be better at all the negative things from those experiences, and that may make all the difference…but it is still comparing.

I, and I dare say you, compare everything. How else do we decide what is more valuable to us, how do we differentiate between good and great, or, ok and amazing, unless we compare, how do we give value to memories, individuals, experiences and even loves, unless we compare.

And maybe, just maybe, being compared is not such a bad thing.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 13 comment(s)

Are men really scared of sexually confident women? Or do men honestly as they claim, desire a lady in public and a whore in the bedroom (and maybe out of it)?
LMD, one of my first reads, and one whom I have traded numerous verbal spars when I penned beneath a different veil, has mentioned that to release her fantasies on a man would be to scare him away…and I think I understand exactly where she is coming from.

I have really only known one woman who was 100% sexually confident, she wasn’t mine, never would be, and I think knowing her tainted the glasses through which I view the world, but it was also incredibly refreshing to know someone for whom sex was about pleasure, complete abandonment, anything goes, lets explore, lets trust and lets above all give pleasure…and to those who know her, this is her in nutshell. Most people are restricted by mantles put upon them by society, parents, peers and the media. Most people live lives less than they would have them, and then wonder what went wrong and as was once written then “live lives of quiet desperation”. Which is not the way I would live…but I do wonder if I would be so brave to utter true desires to another or would I contain them like LMD.

A long time ago, when I had passed a magic milestone of life I was dating a pretty incredible woman, and I say that in unabashed truth because I was in love with her, and probably still hold a small spark for her…but I crossed a line and learnt a lesson that I have yet to have the courage to repeat…I told her my fantasies, and everything unraveled. I have never done it since, I have been tempted and I have come close, but never have I really revealed my desires.

I think men, and this is coming totally from me, so I should say I do want a sexually confident woman, I want a woman who wants to revel in her sexuality and sensuality…but the selfish side of me, wants it to be for no-one save her and I. I know that I do want the classic lady/whore package, I’ve wanted it for sometime, and I want to be able to share completely with her when, in fact I do meet her…yet/but there is always that "fear" that gives pause...

Maybe fantasies are meant to be just that, the sexual flight of imagination that takes place within the safest bounds of all…that of your own mind. But I can't help wonder that at the same time wouldn’t be a shame to not let some out? To be trapped in a relationship where fantasy and desire took a back seat to life and everything else would be a little too…

…vanilla.*

* I am aware that this term means different things to different people, for some anything other than the missionary position is kinky, and for others anal sex is the norm and therefore vanilla...use your own interpretation. ~grin~

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 13 comment(s)

For no other reason than Giggles asked me too…

1. How old were you when you lost your virginity? Who was it to? Describe the event.
I was 17, two days before my 18th birthday and five days before I moved away from home. I didn’t want to go where I was going a virgin (and I have no valid reason today for the why of this) SO I pretty much seduced the girl I had dated through out year 11 (US: Junior year), I had broken up with her 9 months previous, but we both involved in something together (maybe it was a church youth group, though I don’t remember)…we had sex, and I am sorry to say that if I don’t rank on the bottom of her list I probably deserve to…I was nervous, we were operating against a clock, and I know she never climaxed.
I thought so little of the event, that it took me nearly 18 months do it again…thankfully the act, and my skill at it has improved since then.

2. What is the strangest place you've had sex?
There have been a few:
Behind the Mummy display in the Nicholson Museum at Sydney University
On the bonnet of my car parked beside the road at night, illuminated by the lights of passing cattle trucks,
And on the back stairs of the local council building after meeting a “good” country girl one night in a Pub way up the bush.

3. Who would you consider "switching teams" for?
No one, there really isn’t anything better than discovering all the curves and places a woman likes to be touched…why switch?

4. Do you prefer to give or receive?
Well I would be lying if I said I didn’t like to receive, but I have to be honest I love the look on a woman’s face just as she is about to climax, and the look she gives you just after she has…so I am a giver.

5. One night stands- What's the protocol? Stay the night or get the hell outta there?
I have only ever had 2 one-night stands that stayed with such a label, my more usual experience is a “dating thing”, I don’t want to call them all relationships, but the usual is that they conintued for a month or two…the usual protocol has always been: at my house, where if she stays the night, and the offer is usually made for her too stay, I will find something for her to put on and at the very least cook her breakfast…I have always believed if she was willing to play with me, the very least I can do is show her respect and treat her nicely…I mean it’s just the right thing to do.

6. Favourite body part/parts of the opposite sex?
All of it, I mean what is not to like. But if I had to specify the parts, or lines that I love, I think I have already made it pretty clear: here, here and here.

7. Quickie or long and slow?
Both, as often as possible, as the situation, the time and inclination allows or demands. Preference would be slow, take my time, enjoy the woman I am with, savor everything that makes her different from me.

8. Noisy or quiet?
Well it doesn’t have to scream the neighbors or result in a noise complaint, but lets be honest a little bit of noise lets you know you are doing a job, she enjoys the way you are touching her, and is a little bit like having the traffic police guiding your actions without having to stop and ask for directions.

9. Ideal amount of sex per week?
Realistically, I think an average of once a day would be fantastic…life really does intrude to make it too many more, and while some people would say “as often as I can” I don’t know many people that can maintain that pace, and have a life as well.

10. What's your number one sexual turn off?
A woman who is not into it, who is there because, for whatever reason, she feels she has to be, but isn’t really there with you enjoying the moment.

11. Number one arousal trigger?
Her arousal, and her pleasure.

12. What constitutes bad sex?
No connection beyond the physical, and unresponsiveness in a partner.

13. Celebrity you would love to shag right now?
I’m only allowed to have one. ~damn~ I thought according the “Ross List” I was allowed to have 5.

Two words: Angelina Jolie

14. Define sexy?
Confidence, sensuality, intellect, sass, a mental/intellectual connection and physical attraction. Sexy will always be about Chemistry and that is a different thing for not only everyone but at different times in your life (or should that be week, or is it day)

15. Remember the best sex you ever had. What made it special?
Well hopefully the best sex I have ever had, is yet to happen and will be with my wife, when I find her…until that time, it was all about the moment and the woman, and even my inept fumbling aside, every single time I have had sex with a woman has been special.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 18:00 10 comment(s)

Reading this quote I have to wonder if this lack of foresight is the sole domain of youth or does it rather rest more accurately with those who dream, desire and walk the inner paths of their imagination.

…but the more I thought about this quote, the more I returned to concept behind Blink, that many of our best decisions are made in an instant, past knowledge and experience let us, instantly decide what course we will set. And the more I thought about this I had to wonder does youth have it right, is there something to be said for the impetuous rush of head-strong, or maybe that should be heart-strong emotion? Is there something to be said for the simple ‘thin-slice” and the rush into life?

I have always struggled with my dreamer and my realist, two diametrically opposed forces that tussle within me and act as my internal advisors whenever I face my Rubicon’s. For the most part I have let my heart rule, and my more sensible side has stood by and watched dreams fail and love fade…until recently where I find it is my more pragmatic and practical nature that is asserting itself and it is the heart that has less say in my choices… and in those most quiet times before I sleep I have to wonder if this really is such a good thing? Is this “sign of maturity” something to be admired or reviled?

Who is to say that the youth truly do not have the measure of it and are doing as we all should, that is, chase rainbows, unfetter our hearts and reach for our dreams?

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 11:00 6 comment(s)

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog, and use it as the base inspiration for the post.

Note: Don't search around and look for the "coolest" book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you. Originally found here.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 05:00 9 comment(s)

A passing chat comment to a fellow Blogger left her indignant, irate and sitting in firm judgment against me. Labeling me a “shallow ass”, she attacked me as judgmental, as “a wanker” and short-sighted…and yet when she simmered down, she allowed me to explain the motivations and reasons for my stance…

…the comment: “I will never marry a woman who won’t go down” (although I think I used the term Blow Job)

As I tried to clumsily put into text the bombarding thoughts and images ~grin~ in the brief chance she gave me I outlined much of my stance and the reasons I had adopted this seemingly shallow soap box. And while the paragraphs below are much more articulate in there expression, for me the act comes down to two things:

Acceptance and limits

This is the age of “platonic friends” where women might still want the knight to slay the dragon but they don’t need him too, it is the age where the quiet vulnerability has disappeared beneath a veneer of Dior and perched on Manalo. The roles we held are gone, and they have yet to be replaced, the sad truth is many men, Indy included, often feel displaced and unsure of where our feet can make their path from day to day…

…and nowhere is this more evident than in a relationship. The distance from “platonic friend” to something more is a very small line, and with much of a man’s relationship identity being made up on the sexual front, the sad truth is that we are only elevated above those “platonic friends” by the very act that we get to know you, in the biblical sense. And while this will make little sense to many, and seem like pathetic drivel to others, the truth is that as men our identity is made up in you…and much of our happiness in a relationship is derived from physical touch, which for the most part is sex.

“Platonic friends” confuse this. They occupy a place in your life were we can never tread, we can never completely relax around them, they are your friends, and yet we are expected, up to a point, to like them, even, and this is the hardest part, even if they would be the last mates we would chose in the world. They are important to you and they have your ear. They are the one’s that have been there to start your car in the morning, assemble your Ikea purchases, move that chest of drawers down four flights…and it is a position that we cannot, without a lot of time, occupy…yet it a position of need and value to you, a place where our masculine strength, our logic and our resilience can be given to you…but it is not our place and yet we so want it to be. Many of us struggle with where we fit in? In what is it that makes us important to you?

And so while I have to come to accept that my wife will have male friends and that she will “hang out” with them, that they will occupy a place of import that I never will, I do not have to accept a sexual relationship based on limits. I do not have to accept that the clearest most identifiable act that separates me from them is one of limits and non-acceptance. I do not believe lovers should be closed to each other, I believe that complete openness, acceptance and no-limits is what is meant by a loving relationship….and since I offer my heart, the place I hold in the centre of my universe and no-limits to my partner why should I accept anything less.

And although very badly expressed I stand by the statement, though now I would revise it to: “I will not marry a woman who is not accepting and desires no sexual limits.”

Why should I?

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 20 comment(s)

Fire.

The single unsteady spark and the match ignites, the flickering crimson-orange, black framed with carbon waste, eating, feeding as it dances just over the surface…mesmerizing as it destroys all it touches, the gentle warmth, the power of heat, the provision of comfort from the cold and the power to…there is a line in Back-draft where Robert DeNiro says “fire hate’s”, Booby got it wrong here in his pseudo religious likening, fire doesn’t emote, it doesn’t hate…but it does consume, and it does so without thought, feeling or caring for the damage that it does…

The alternating strobes of red and blue flickered there silent yet totally unnecessary signal…the dark night was aglow and the wooden house was a Guy Fawkes pyre…

They say: well the truth is “they” say a lot and most of it is shit, but the job is like this:

90% Boredom: training, cleaning, repairing gear and waiting.
8% Anticipation, and,
2% pure adrenalin

And it is that last in which so few people truly get to experience, for in the heart of the excitement when all around is chaos, when time has gone slow and stretches before you like a distorted forever there is: a calm. And it is here that you operate, muscles charged, senses working overtime and yet rational decisions made with calculated coldness.

…a glance at the Capt. as you slide from the still moving truck itself still braking, a quick nod and on goes the BA gear already strapped to your back, a single breath or two, and a big sniff…carbon, the acrid smell of plastics and smoke…but no burning bacon: maybe nobody is home, I hope so. I play rugby with this guy and his wife has just given birth…but no bacon is a good sign…

…a charged line is heavy, it drags as it slowly leaks water to protect itself, so you have to brace it against your body and use your legs to advance on the target…a hand in the center of your back braces you and guide’s you, as sunseen a partner helps with the load…

…it is noisy inside a fire, the roar and crackle of both the whip of flames through the air and the escaping gas from anything caught in the inferno…normally the safest course is let the bitch burn, control the area, prevent spread and let the bitch kill herself in self immolating exhaustion, and she will…two things prevent this safer course…the risk to life, and the simple fact that the public expects to see fires fought, fires tamed and fires water whipped into control…and for both these situations lives are at risk…fire fighters accept the first, it goes with the job: protect lives…the second is tax funded lunacy…

…your BA restricts vision…it doesn’t take too much smoke to do the same…the gun sprays a water shield ahead forcing radiant heat away, as step by step you enter, the hell of the unknown…blind you are crouched low…the floor is unknown, walls are unstable and the ceiling is your enemy…two rooms to check…I had walked this house in the daylight…that door was a toilet…kids bedroom to right, master to the left…empty and fire dancing hell…but no smell…a slight retreat…don’t wish to outflanked…nobody in there would be alive anyway…shield to stream and the fire starts to lose to the inevitable onslaught of water, and the loss of fuel…

…elsewhere a small hose covers external gas cylinders…which contrary to what Hollywood would have you believe if kept cool and wet will not explode…so they are covered, and two more lines bombard the fire through a blown out window the kicked open front door…and with flames out the job shifts to making everything a sodden mess to prevent a re-flash…

And then the job shifts again, back to boredom and waiting…

See here for photos

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 12 comment(s)

The inspiration for the Jimmy Buffett song, Cheeseburger in Paradise, can be found on Harbour Island in The Bahamas at a little out of the way place called Ma Ruby’s. I’ve eaten there a few times in my life and while the Bahamas and that time in my life are long past, the tastes and sounds of the song inspired me to develop my own “Indiana in Paradise”.
Also see Cheeseburger Brown's history of the Cheeseburger.

The Dog's Bacon Cheeseburger

Ingredients

500g of lean ground beef
4 Hamburger buns
4 slices of extra tasty Cheese
¼ tsp leaf Oregano, crushed
¼ tsp of Salt
¼ tsp of Ground Pepper
8 slices of Bacon
4 large mushrooms, sliced
BBQ Sauce

Instructions

Preheat BBQ Grill and Hotplate
In large bowl combine ground beef, oregano, salt and pepper
Shape into 8 thin patties. Divide and place cheese on half the patties. Place remaining patties on top and press edges to seal well.
Toast buns, set to one side.
Cook bacon and sauté mushrooms on BBQ Hotplate
Grill patties for 4 minutes each side.
Serve over 4 buns, adding patty, 2 bacon slices and mushrooms. Add condiments to taste, BBQ Sauce is best. Extra cheese may be added at this point.

Serve hot, in the sunshine and by a pool ~grin~ and to honour Ma Ruby serve them as she does with a dark Rum based drink.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 11 comment(s)

Apparently 58% of women fake orgasm at some time or another (why I don’t understand since it only perpetuates the problem?), so how do you know you’re pleasing her? Though according to Ananova the number is closer to 80% and 70% of women have never even reached orgasm. (this number seems a little high, and I think other studies that suggest it between 25-40% are probably more accurate) FUCK, boys we are really letting our side down here, I think more men should read Tracy Cox’s book “Hot Sex”, and more should learn how to eat “vaggies” properly.

Now in completely arrogant fashion (so unlike me ~grin~) I am going to say I am very skilled at going down, I love doing it, and find it extremely arousing to please my partner. But how do I knowif I am any good at it?

Sure you can ask…but then as Wegg says “you’re an artless fucker” and in truth “artless fuckers” do not get invited back for a second date. And we all want that second date, that chance to get over the nerves you had the first time. (To female readers, hint here: a guy who really likes you will be nervous, if he doesn't give a shit about you he won't care enough to worry about pleasing you)

And remember if a woman loves and cares for you she will lie. It's not really a lie, after all she's protecting your ego, which she will morally justify, but still, she will lie. So how do you really know?

I suppose the only way to really know is the passing shots a woman trades at you as you break her heart. If you’ve hurt her she will, in defence, attack, and your manhood is the easiest target. But this is where women differ from men; they won’t attack your strengths…when in attack they are rarely liars. So if you’re breaking her heart but she doesn’t attack your skill in the bedroom chances are, you may be, to use a quote from a consulted “friend”, “amazing”.

So how do you, and I mean I, do it? How do I ensure my partner loves me going down?

Some generalizations:

1. They are all different, like their owners they all like to treated slightly differently, but the C-Spot is your friend…if you treat this bit correctly the lady will be asking you to play again.
2. Unless she has been wearing tight jeans all day and riding a horse, I have never met a woman who tasted like anything but herself or what she had recently eaten, it never smells bad (afore mentioned exception, but then since I also stunk of horse, it really didn’t matter)
   NOTE: I do have it on reasonable authority though that some women do have a funky smell and taste, I am yet to meet one, but I do trust my source.
3. If you don’t like doing it, then she is going to know, she isn’t going to relax, and she won’t climax if she can’t relax…she needs to know that you want to do it, that you love doing it with her, and there is nothing you would rather be doing than making her feel great…And she will be very worried about point 2. Guys orgasm from friction (actually it takes a bit more than this) but a woman’s orgasm starts in her mind…you have to get inside her head, and manipulate her into relaxing and trusting you…If you enjoy it, you are half way there…but if she can’t or won’t relax you have a lot more work to do.

So how do I do it…

So assuming you have mastered the art of getting her clothes off and have lingered enough kissing her lips, have sucked, gently bit and kissed her nipples to hardened points and then trailed kisses down her belly across one hip and down the outside of her thigh.

You are about to move over her knee and start your approach…kiss her lightly, the line of kisses moves up the inside of her thigh, slow kisses…moving upwards, and past her…across the top of her pubis and down to the other inner thigh…kiss this line…small kisses…kiss up her inner thigh…kiss her at the crease where her leg becomes something much nicer…gently lick her outer lips…change sides…at this point do not touch the clitoris, kiss close to it, lick as close as you dare, but do not touch.

Alternate, gently sucking, kissing and licking…if she moans when you do something, note what you did…move away, kissing, then come back and do it again…if she moans again you have just learnt something she likes…

Keep this up until her hips start to rise…or her hands start guiding your head…this is women silent sex-talk for please touch my clit. So do so…gentle licking, light sucking and kissing are all advised…what is important here is a steady rhythm…each woman will like it done differently…so you need to work out how she likes it fast, slow, light and gentle, or with more pressure and slow circles…increasing pressure…at this point it is important to maintain contact…she may move around a bit, if you are doing it right, she will be moaning…her hips will rise into your mouth…keep licking…at this point you may wish to use your fingers at the same time…trace her outer lips and enter her…curl your finger towards your own face and stroke her g-spot while you continue to lick…reach up with the other hand and gently squeeze her nipples…while never stopping you licking…or gently stroke the area between her vagina and her anus…even stroke around her anal area and penetrate her lightly, if her comfort zone and yours extend to that….keep this steady rhythm up, and she will start to climax…
VERY IMPORTANT: Do not stop licking as she starts to cum…maintain rhythm and pressure, keep licking…she will thank you for it.

At this point one of three things will usually happen…she will push you away, as her clit becomes too sensitive….she will begin rising again and orgasm very quickly (which means she is multi-orgasmic), if she is keep going do not stop, or she will pull your face up to hers…and tell you to “fuck her”…it would be rude to not comply with her request…

NOTE: Not all women like the taste of themselves, so some will not want to kiss you immediately after your trip below…move in slow for the kiss as you enter her…if she turns her head, then you know…if she kisses you…mid kiss thrust into her and watch her gasp into your mouth… ~grin~

Indy’s rules for eating vagatarian…

1. Take your time…unless she is begging you to get your tongue in her, in which case just bend her over, push up her little mini-skirt and go from behind…take it slow…treat it like you wash your car…slowly, methodically, covering all areas, start with the bigger spaces and close in on the intricate details…and like washing your car, a good job may take an hour…this is ok. (Trust me, when she is smiling at you wondering how you did that, it will be all worth it)
2. Kiss everything…and then because you are typical guy and rushed that part, kiss everything again, and once more for good luck.
3. The clit is your friend, it is in the same place on 98% of all women, and in the general area for the further 1.5%...the other 0.5% I have no idea.
4. Do not waggle your head around, you are not a dog with a bone…be gentle and let your tongue move, not your head.
5. Get inside her head. She has to know you are enjoying it with her, that you want to be doing it, WITH HER.
6. Watch her, look for her sighs, her moans, the gentle rising of her hips, her hands clenching, her nipples staying hard…her body will betray her arousal…use that betrayal to give her more pleasure.
7. DO NOT BLOW INTO HER VAGINA…you can lick her clit and then gently blow over it…but NEVER BLOW INTO HER.

NOTE: If you think she is not enjoying the experience…ask her to either “show you” or “guide you, in pleasing her”, it would churlish of her to not help you bring her pleasure, not to mention a tad counter productive…at which point any woman who won’t help you please her is best left alone anyway.

All misconceptions here are my own, based on my experiences and the lessons they have taught me...any comments to further improve my ability to please a partner would be appreciated...I am sure my future wife likewise appreciates it ~grin~

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 20 comment(s)

“…I believed that it was my duty to love a woman who gave me nothing, who betrayed everything I lived for, who demanded her happiness at the price of mine. I believed that love is some static gift which, once granted, need no longer be deserved…I believed that love is a gratuity, not a reward to be earned…”

How many people are like Hank, trapped in a relationship in which they give but never receive?

My guess is a lot (otherwise the divorce rate wouldn’t be so high) but you have to wonder why? Why do people torture themselves so much? Is it that basically we have such low self esteem that we cling to, even a parody of love, hoping that we are worthy of the attentions of another. Or is it as Hank did, that we chose to believe in the standards set by another, and therefore live in a world not of our own making and of our own desires? Do people value themselves, their worth and their dreams so low?

Why is it that some people settle for less than they desire, when what they desire may be right next to them, just around the corner, or residing on the other side of the world?

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 16 comment(s)

The cooling waters didn’t really seem to put much dint in the heat emanating from the top of my head…face down in the crystal water, the cooling of my extremities was sadly lacking in the region of my skull, as I gently touched at my face, the heat still very noticeable as I soaked up the waters and enjoyed the ‘dip’ after my hour of squash…

…perched on the edge of the pool looking up into a sky littered with too few stars, I was amazed to peer through the branches of an overhead palm tree…and while I internally chuckled at the heat from my head, and the fact that I would feel my hamstrings in the morning, I still couldn’t admire my surrounds and wonder “How good is this?”

Lifestyle is important, one’s lifestyle, whatever that may be, dictates much of the happiness we seek from the world around us, be it material, emotional or even sexual…the lifestyle choices you make, will accept and even yearn for give you a innate sense of your place amongst things…but more accurately the world. I sort of knew all this.

But a few nights past, enjoying a beer with new friends, a guest in their less than guest-ready home bought home to me the importance of finding one’s place and that it wasn’t really money that creates happiness, but rather the lifestyle one chooses to lead. I’m not saying money isn’t important, me I love the lavish parties, coffee at noon, art gallery openings scrunched up against theatre bonanzas. But I am also just as happy with a meat-pie at the Rugby, or a lazy lie-in with a loved one, sipping coffee, reading the papers and wasting the day exploring the way only two naked people can, and that is a completely different fiscal level, but not so a lifestyle one.

Sure I sometimes lament my lack of female partner, a problem that is not really insurmountable, and one I have choosen to not really do too much about at the moment, paticularly more so as I admit my interest has a focus…and though I have no real idea where my love life will or may go, I do have a pretty good idea of where I would like it too, and that, for the moment, is fine by me.

But what struck me at that moment in the pool, the palm fronds overhead, was that if I had not ventured abroad, I would not be here, the person I am would not be and I wouldn’t be me…I’d be someone else, I’d be somewhere else…and since right now I am happy with both who I am and where I am…I take great satisfaction in the thought ‘How good is this?”

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 9 comment(s)

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 7 comment(s)

I once dated a self admitted “coffee snob”, and thus during those first few weeks of dating, especially after those nights that became mornings I was subject to the “coffee court”. Now it is important to realize that the coffee court is not just about coffee, though the murky mud like brown stuff is vital for getting the judges approval, the coffee court is about how well your fridge is stocked to prepare a spur-of-the-moment sumptuous breakfast feast for her, and her alone. Apparently it shows you were thinking about her, you cared enough to get in things she likes, and I have had this confirmed by a number of women, they find it really “cute” when you serve them breakfast in bed if you have prepared it. But back to the coffee……coffee theory goes something like this:

If you care enough to grind your own beans, and make the perfect cup of coffee, it shows that you like to start your day with the finer things in life. Since you woke up with her, and therefore started your day with her, you are in fact, by your very coffee snobbery saying she is a finer thing in life. I have it on good authority that women really like to be thought of as the finest thing in your life. Go figure!

Sadly I was once an instant guy…I know you are all shocked, but it is true, admittedly I went for the Moccona Indulgence, but still I had an instant mentality when it came to coffee…but my eyes were opened. A very patient woman, who saw much more in me than my coffee, took me by the hand and turned me into a Krupp’s Coffee Machine wielding snob, she taught me about temperature, water quality, the grind, the blend, the difference between espresso, dripped and plunged, until with a smile and kiss on my check she could send me scurrying to the kitchen to make for her a perfect roast. Did I mind doing this for her?

Of course not, I too became a coffee snob, and along the way managed to learn all the tricks for swaying the judge and passing the coffee court. The upswing: she really enjoyed ensuring nights out ended at my place just so she could watch me in the kitchen…me, I just enjoyed being with her.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 14 comment(s)

She was stunning.

Simple understated low-slung jeans, heels and a black tank top that left just the right amount of tanned and toned expanse exposed to ensure she got noticed.

And she did.

I was on Emerald Hill. Where? It doesn’t really matter, but it was mid-week, my usual nocturnal pattern had been broken and I was there with a few mates to basically enjoy an ice-cold beer or three. I didn’t notice her when I walked in, my eyes only briefly scanned the group she was with…ex-pats, but the Aussie accented group turned my head for a second look, again she didn’t register on my radar, so I really didn’t get a good look until she went to the toilet…but every male, and a few female eyes followed her as she sauntered through the room.

I didn’t approach her, some actions require more courage than that which would see a man fight fires and approaching her or any woman for that matter is an act that has never sat well with me and has never come easy. I lack the confidence and I am too shy, a statement that would bring snorts of derision and peels of laughter from my friends but sadly it is true…although I am quickly at ease once introduced I have always struggled with the approach.

So while I admired her, I also couldn’t help but think I had seen her before…

…and looking over the rim of the bottle, its lip tipping the ice-cold amber fluid down my eagerly awaiting throat, I had to pause…are there Bloggers in this bar? And with slow deliberation I took in those around me, the small groups, laughing, sharing, and imbibing a favored drink and loosening inhibitions…all fodder for a Blogger, all of them possibly Bloggers.

I often wonder what it would be like to tear down the veil I have created, to strip away the digital wall and just meet the people behind the Blogs I read. Would it be an experience that I would find Blog worthy, or possibly a worse case, would they? What if I hit on one and got "shot down"? Would I want all my failings released not as I would pen them, with control and in small releases, but rather as they would?

...and so with a deliberate turn I drained my beer, turned back to my mates and joined in the laughs. I am not really keen on being the object of someone's Blog ridicule...

...still she was stunning.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 09:30 10 comment(s)

Passions, not the lust inspired risings that border on fetish but those things that excite you…that make the day worthwhile and the rising from bed just a little easier and more purposeful…

My weekend (a few removed) involved vast amounts of time with a repetitive nothingness of the silent observer…people around me did their thing, and the digital feedback from an array of electronic sources were processed and then observed as they were reported…nearly always with the quiet monotony of passing time…so I had plenty of time to think…and use it I did…almost exclusively to think and write, save some stolen moments of bandwidth where I re-allocated processing time so I could exchange some e-mails with friends.

But what is it that you are passionate about?

A good friend once remarked that he loved that his wife had passions. For in meeting her he could imagine the passion she held for her interests one day extending to include him. For him, his wife embraced her interests; she gave focus to them and gave them priority in her life…

…his hope, his desire was that she could do the same for him. (and since she did, I’d say he was right)

I like this idea. Show me someone who is truly living with their passions, embracing them and not just living in remembered glory but continuing to revell in the joy they derive from the activity and I will show you someone capable of great love, someone who can make something important in their life, someone who can transfer their passion from self to others…

And that something could be you, or better yet, me!

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 23:30 13 comment(s)

I love (that should read loved, past tense) going shopping with my gf. And before you worry about some deeply hidden question about my sexuality let me assure you it is purely 100% selfish and therefore all hetrosexual male. Nothing beats lingerie shopping with a gf, but clothes’s shopping comes a close second.

You see for years my wardrobe has changed over time to reflect the tastes of my then paramour, it happens to every guy, I am not alone in this.

But the great thing is that it can also work in reverse. And it goes something like this:

Walking through a clothes shop looking for jeans…she picks out a few styles, you should know her size (if you don’t it’s really easy to help her and find out). You casually pick out a style you like…you know the ones, low slung, belly baring and painted on, she looks at you with that “I’m not sure” look, to which you respond with

“You will make those jeans look amazing” *,

So try them on she will…and because you selected them, not her, she will try them on last. (It’s a phenomenon, but it just happens this way), you casually feign disinterest while she models her selections for you, screw up you nose at the ones you don’t like, but when she tries on the pair you chose, you're like…”WOW”, low whistle, big gulp…and then even suggest that she not buy them cause you won’t be able to keep your hands off her…she will complain that she should have worn a g-string or that the make her bum look fat, while smiling at your obvious interest…and you have the perfect diversion here, you casually add “well lets get these ones and we can swing by VS and I’ll buy you something that would look great under them.” All women love lingerie, so you score big points for suggesting she get more and even more points because you offered to buy it…and so the dress up game continues.

You can’t lose. It’s kinda like having your own grown up Barbie doll, only a lot more fun.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Some women will cotton on very quickly as to what you are doing, and some will even let you choose items for them to wear, knowing that in doing so you will get turned on…these same women will usually expect it to be your credit card at the register. (The ones that play this game and then pay themselves are definitely worth keeping)

* It is never the clothes that make the woman; it is always the woman that makes the clothes.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 11 comment(s)

"If" too often transforms and limits our life by being too IF

Chatting online with a friend I had a revelation about "if", I was talking in a largesse sense, meaning that the word "if" is so small yet we use it to stop us reaching for our dreams, we use it to define our world and contain it within boundaries of someone else’s making rather than letting ourselves truly be ourselves...instead we say only "if"

So in our vernacular "if" becomes both the biggest hurdle and the biggest crutch we have, it goes from being one of the smallest words we use to being one of the biggest, and not in a way that is freeing but a way of “safe” boxed protection, in other words it confines our dreams and makes them prisoners of our perceived limits, rather than encouraging us to truly live.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 6 comment(s)

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00 5 comment(s)