<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:22:43.975-07:00</updated><category term='affection'/><category term='sex'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='personal'/><category term='fantasy'/><category term='girlfriend'/><category term='toys'/><title type='text'>Dirtier Mind</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-8948406807429340385</id><published>2008-06-18T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T06:48:53.462-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='affection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>It's been a hard week</title><content type='html'>No pun intended. Well, sort of. We haven't been very close lately due to a traumatic event that happened in her life a short time ago, and because she "just isn't a very horny girl." Truth is, I don't think it has anything to do with her physically. She has some pretty profound issues with self esteem and a fear of being close and vulnerable. Part of me thinks that if she could somehow resolve some of these issues, she'd be much more emotionally available and listen to my needs a little more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of not meeting needs, we had a fight the other night about how she's been distant and how I felt sort of abandoned and lonely. It seems like I have to ask for any sort of affection, and most of the time when I do ask, she pushes me away, makes a face or is somehow uncomfortable. I grew up in an affectionate household and she didn't, so I can see the disparity, but still I feel left out. When I told her that, she said something about not caring about her needs. I didn't say it at the time because I didn't have the words, but thinking about it later I realized the implications of what she said: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;She's more interested in her needs than mine. &lt;/span&gt;Strong statement, I know, but hear me out. She's worried about her needs for space and distance, but I'm worried for my needs for closeness and affection. I've been trying to meet her needs for space and swallow much of my desire to be loved, but when I try to meet mine, she stifles them, so it seems to me that I'm catering to her needs far more than she's concerning herself with mine. It all struck me as kind of selfish and uncaring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's just the affection part, stay tuned for the sex part. A-whole-nother story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-8948406807429340385?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/8948406807429340385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=8948406807429340385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8948406807429340385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8948406807429340385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-been-hard-week.html' title='It&apos;s been a hard week'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-8454791789648151913</id><published>2008-06-04T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T05:35:19.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've started to take notice of the ups and downs of our sex life and how it relates to her period, and it seems like right after her period is over it's up, then a week later fizzles out then it's dry until her period comes again. I'm sure there's a medical reason for it, but I'm just not sure why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just had an amazing week of sex at least once a day for the whole week. It was glorious, but like everything good it had an end. It's been two weeks of a dry spell, and of course it coincides with the time when I'm the horniest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It figures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-8454791789648151913?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/8454791789648151913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=8454791789648151913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8454791789648151913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8454791789648151913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2008/06/ive-started-to-take-notice-of-ups-and.html' title=''/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-7038538133466196048</id><published>2008-01-24T11:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T11:17:22.125-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like A Drout</title><content type='html'>The last time we had sex was last Sunday. I'm starting to feel like we only have sex something like every two weeks and that's that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my OCD plan everything and document all the facts mind, I'm inclined to keep a calendar and track the frequency and figure out patterns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just going crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-7038538133466196048?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/7038538133466196048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=7038538133466196048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/7038538133466196048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/7038538133466196048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2008/01/like-drout.html' title='Like A Drout'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-8944694025339884589</id><published>2008-01-18T07:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T07:03:55.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I just read an old post and got hard.</title><content type='html'>I love how sexy my girlfriend is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been horny all week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-8944694025339884589?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/8944694025339884589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=8944694025339884589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8944694025339884589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8944694025339884589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-just-read-old-post-and-got-hard.html' title='I just read an old post and got hard.'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-7939430634475070416</id><published>2007-12-11T10:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T10:42:00.225-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'>Up and down, like a rollercoaster</title><content type='html'>I had some of the most amazing sex over the weekend. It all started with a conversation and shedding some light on the frigidness that has been our sex life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started a conversation about how little sex we'd been having and why. She got pretty upset about some of it, and further into the conversation, she told me she felt like I didn't listen. Now I've heard this a thousand times before and felt like they were just being crazy. I've always been told by friends that I'm an excellent listener and I've always been the guy people go to to vent or get advice, so when she had said it before, I just thought she was being sensitive. Well, she told me why. Apparently, I cut her off sometimes (not meaning to, that just my conversational style) and she doesn't want to finish what she's saying after that. I told her I didn't realize I'd been like that.  She basically said it's like I'm trying to have sex with a stranger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This opened my eyes some and made me realize how I should act in the future. Well, after such an open and revealing conversation, she hopped in the shower and shut the door, usually a sign to not come in. The thought (and hope) that I'd hear her call my name was running through my head and I nearly jumped when she actually did. My heart kind of dropped when she said, can you open the door, it's getting too steamy in here. I took my que, and peed, and coyly said, "want some company in there?" I was half expecting her to laugh and say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, want to switch? I jumped at the chance, took off my clothes and hopped in. She's fucking beautiful naked, and still doesn't believe me, no matter how many times I tell her. Of course I got inavoidably hard, and of course, she noticed. Usually she'll giggle and pretty much ignore it, but I handed her the soap and held my arms up. She soaped me up. Even "him." After a little kissing and rubbing, I said, let's dry off and go downstairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran down there, turned on the heater and waited for my beautiful girlfriend. She came running over, jumped in bed and scooted over to me to get warm. Of course, I got rock hard again so I jumped on top of her. Both of us get really excited right out of the shower and we covered each other with kisses all over. She jumped on top of me and teased me for so long. She wrapped her mouth around me, she got me so close and when she came up for a kiss, just rocked my tip across her lips, but refusing to let me get in. We were touching and being close for so long, she got really excited when I ran my nails down her back, squeezed her ass and spanked her. She was getting wetter, and I was getting harder. Both of us wanted it so badly, it hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when things got dirty and rough. She even went so far as to put her hands around my neck. Fuck, that made me so damned hard. She held my hands above my head and wouldn't let me touch her. She ran her nails down my chest and back. We both pulled each others' hair. I like it rough, and it makes her giggle, another thing I love. When she finally let me inside, I almost exploded. We fucked so hard and she actually sat up and let me watch, another thing I love that she's getting more comfortable with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her to leave some marks on me, just not on my neck. She lovingly ablidged. She was on top of me, my thumb rocking back and forth over her button, she she couldn't help but dig her nails in my chest. I don't think she realized what she was doing until later when she saw the marks on my chest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll be listening a little harder to her from now on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-7939430634475070416?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/7939430634475070416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=7939430634475070416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/7939430634475070416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/7939430634475070416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/12/up-and-down-like-rollercoaster.html' title='Up and down, like a rollercoaster'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-3266354916204973967</id><published>2007-12-05T10:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T10:25:16.310-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I guess I have a really high sex drive. I just can't seem to get enough. I could go everyday if given half the chance! As it stands, i get it a couple times about every two weeks. Kinda sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm a patient guy, but jerking off all the time just doesn't cut it for me and makes me feel sorta lonely. I want to fuck in the shower, in my bed, in my kitchen, on my couch, bend her over my office desk, fuck her in my car, in her car, fuck her on the floor of my apartment, anywhere and everywhere, but it seems like the only places we do are the couch, the shower (only very occasionally. she doesn't have the same wet fetish I do) and almost always in the bed. Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sometimes says I'm a sex freak and always horny and such, but it's not true. I'm a horny guy, it's true, I like sex pretty often, but I know there are people with excessively high sex drives that get them into trouble, and that's just not me. There are also times that I'm &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; horny, but I guess it doesn't seem that way to her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the hell do I express to her that sex isn't all I want from her and that it's the way in which I feel close to her and that it's what brings us together in my world?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-3266354916204973967?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/3266354916204973967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=3266354916204973967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/3266354916204973967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/3266354916204973967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-guess-i-have-really-high-sex-drive.html' title=''/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-8887203472590598920</id><published>2007-12-03T07:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T07:48:25.831-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'>Like a roller coaster</title><content type='html'>It seems like everytime I think things are better, they get worse. I guess it's just part of the natural ebb and flow, but I'm really starting to feel the disconnect between our needs and desires. She could go a whole day without a hug, and just a simple kiss, but I need more. That might seem needy, so shoot me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for sex, sometimes I feel like if I don't make a move, she never would. She's told me she just doesn't think about it, and it's not a huge deal to her, but she doesn't seem to care that it matters to me. My attempt to keep it in her mind and get her to think about it more backfired, and now she feels like I pester her and like it's all that matters to me. oops. She couldn't be more wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-8887203472590598920?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/8887203472590598920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=8887203472590598920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8887203472590598920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/8887203472590598920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/12/like-roller-coaster.html' title='Like a roller coaster'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-4961780339640335837</id><published>2007-11-27T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T07:54:18.964-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toys'/><title type='text'>To toy or not to toy?</title><content type='html'>That is the question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been slowly planting the bug in her head about introducing sex toys to our bedroom. As I'm sure you've started to gather, she's not incredibly experimental sexually and likes what she likes. She had one before and loved it apparently, but we don't have one now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always liked spicing things up in the bedroom and exploring other ways of getting off, and vibrators (both on me and on the girl) are a perfect option. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing what she liked when we started talking about it, I suggested something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.adameve.com/Vibrators/Clit-Vibrators/sp-wallbangers-waterproof-clit-vibrator-11495.aspx?f=1&amp;itemtype=30"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.adameve.com/images/products/A/a659_1030499-xl.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In talking with her, she wants something like this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.adameve.com/Vibrators/Pocket-Rocket-Vibrators/sp-i-vibe-pocket-rocket-9447.aspx"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.adameve.com/images/products/4/4292-big.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't blame her, honestly. It's much less threatening and more approachable. Besides, she's not really interested in anything besides me going inside. I'm thinking of surprising her with this for Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I'm hesitating so badly on this...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-4961780339640335837?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/4961780339640335837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=4961780339640335837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/4961780339640335837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/4961780339640335837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/11/to-toy-or-not-to-toy.html' title='To toy or not to toy?'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-2710006374343248335</id><published>2007-11-26T12:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T12:52:49.782-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'>an update I suppose</title><content type='html'>Things have gotten better and more open in the sex department so I stopped focusing on this blog so much. I just looked over it again, and even at three posts, I can see some potential and if nothing else, than this could serve as a story for me and become a personal journey and diary of a dirtier type. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an update, things have become much more open between us and she's trying hard to get more in touch with her hornier side and is trying to please me more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm appreciative of this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-2710006374343248335?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/2710006374343248335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=2710006374343248335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/2710006374343248335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/2710006374343248335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/11/update-i-suppose.html' title='an update I suppose'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-5427640222130285580</id><published>2007-09-29T12:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T12:35:15.169-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'>Affection affliction</title><content type='html'>My girlfriend didn't grow up in the most affectionate or loving of households, so she's  not the most verbal or physical with her feelings. It couldn't be more opposite for me. My parents were always affectionate towards each other and always made sure to let us kids know they loved us. Like a fish out of water, I don't like it when I'm not getting  that affirmation and physical closeness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to work on this with her, but it's difficult when all shes known has been in direct contrast to what I want. It sometimes feels like she doesn't care, though I know she loves me. I don't think she realizes how important it is to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see how all this goes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-5427640222130285580?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/5427640222130285580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=5427640222130285580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/5427640222130285580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/5427640222130285580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/09/affection-affliction.html' title='Affection affliction'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-1781892818588255729</id><published>2007-09-28T20:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T20:46:36.289-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fantasy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'>A story....</title><content type='html'>I wish this were true. She's mad at me tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come home, she's already there. I love it when I come home and she's already here and she greets me at the door with a kiss and hug. She love it when I come home. It's like we're playing house and I'm the papa and she's the mama and our fur kid is excited to see me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's validating. I can't help it. so she kisses me deeply, happy to see me, then kisses me a little more deeply, a little more sensually. I love it when she's this open. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put down my bag and grab her around the small of her back and push her up against the wall, not taking my lips away from hers for an instant. I kiss her neck, grab her ass, grab at her pants while she's grabbing at mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pulls my shirt up and right after pulls at the elastic of my boxer briefs. I pull off her shirt, letting her hands play where they might. I find my self pulling off her underwear as she's grabbing at me. I pull her hair and pull her onto the couch, where i decide I want to taste her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit her on the couch and kiss her longingly, slowly traversing the valleys of her luscious womanhood finally (achingly) reaching her legs. I kiss the soft skin and lick her. She's wet. She's moaning. For once she's watching. I touch her softly. Then a little harder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pulls me up; she wants me inside her and I lovingly ablidge. Our loving moves the couch and she touches herself while I'm deep inside her. She's coming. So hard. So loud. So am I. Oh god...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-1781892818588255729?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/1781892818588255729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=1781892818588255729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/1781892818588255729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/1781892818588255729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/09/story.html' title='A story....'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2023824096796851754.post-3216116759908195504</id><published>2007-09-27T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T06:20:00.500-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Welcome. A rant.</title><content type='html'>Here's what I don't get. I do all the things that I've always read girls love and say they want and tried to do things to clear her mind and make her life less stressful (like cleaning up and cooking for her and such) and she still doesn't seem to want it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took her on a date last night, and granted she was upset about something earlier in the evening, we had a great time. She was smiling a lot and really seemed to enjoy it. Even though I'd expected not to get laid (kinda bad that I can expect that, huh?), after the night was through, she seemed to be in such a good mood that I thought, maybe tonight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, nothing happened. I was kinda upset last night going to bed. She wasn't very affectionate (a problem that has been bothering me and I had brought up to her before), and she just said thanks for tonight as she was on her way to sleepyland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laid awake for a while last night just thinking about it. It feels like she's keeping herself at arms length and it doesn't make me feel very comfortable and I've completely stopped trying to initiate anything with her partly because (and I know this is wrong and like playing games) I want to see if she's eventually going to try to initiate sex with me like she used to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More on this to come. Welcome to my blog, sorry to start it off on such a sour note. Better things to come, I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2023824096796851754-3216116759908195504?l=dirtiermind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/feeds/3216116759908195504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2023824096796851754&amp;postID=3216116759908195504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/3216116759908195504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2023824096796851754/posts/default/3216116759908195504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dirtiermind.blogspot.com/2007/09/heres-what-i-dont-get.html' title='Welcome. A rant.'/><author><name>charlesforster</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
