URNotAlone

The End Of An Era

April 1st, 2008 3:02 pm MDT

The End Of An Era (04.01.08)



Isn't spring supposed to heighten the senses and reawaken the sex drive of people the world over?  I think so, right?  It's spring … so we fuck a lot. 

 
Skirts are worn, covering little.  Tops get tighter, covering less.  Isn't this a rite of spring? 
 
Shouldn't my t-girl honey-pot be longing for a wide range of sexual fulfillment right now?  Shouldn't I be spending my days slowly contracting my legs and core so I can provide an A+ sexual experience?  Shouldn't I be researching the latest oral techniques?  Shouldn't I be doing … something?

 
I should be.  But I'm not.  Why am I so blasé about sex right now?  Is it planetary alignment?  Probably not.  Is it my newfound maturity?  It sure seems like it.

 
I know what you're thinking.  You're saying to yourself, "Danielle, you love sex, drugs and rock and roll too much, both figuratively and literally, to be maturing." 

 
I know this.  I know.  What can I do?

 
I went to a party this Saturday.  Spring was clearly in the air – if you are OK with substituting "spring" with "sex".  There were plenty of hookups.  Tons of propositions.  I could have had sex with any number of people in the place.  I thought about it.  And yet, when the bar was closed and the after-parties were about to begin and I was entering a prime space to slide out of my skirt and slide onto a good man … I went to bed.  Alone.

 
I went to bed?

 
Yup.  Yes.  Affirmative. 

 
I went to bed.

 
So, before you begin to doubt what I'm saying, be assured that I do have it in me to keep certain things out of me. 

 
And I was OK with calling it a night.

 
I went to my hotel room.  I showered.  I slipped into bed.  I considered watching my roommate get it on … but even those plans were overtaken by beautiful, blissful sleep.  It wasn't even 2:00 AM. 

 
And here I am, a few days later … still feeling the same way.  My beloved vibrator sleeps alone, probably feeling discarded and unwanted.  My fishnets have been packed away.

 
Can this really be happening?

 
It can.  It is.  I found myself shopping for shoes on-line last night … and I clicked the "low heels" button for the first time.  There's quite a few good buys to be had in that section.  I was surprised.

 
My sweatshirt is baggy.  My hair is up.  My lips are a soft pink.  My makeup is light.  My inner sexpot has left the building.  If you wanted me and haven't had me, your time appears to be up. 

 
Yes.  I do believe maturity has set in.  And I'm surprisingly OK with it.  I say this with a straight face and not a hint of a coquettish smile:  Turn out the lights … the party's over.

 
Thanks for reading.

 
xoxo
Danielle