There's nothing quite like Being Wanted. More than any drug or alcohol or heavenly food has ever done, the high that follows an intensely focused need for me, my body, and my hands, is fucking intoxicating.

For a girl with a long storied past with an easily shattered self-esteem, I guess it makes some sort of sense. I sometimes hear people write and talk about amazing sex as an experience that empties the mind. But I feel like some of the best sex I've ever had have is when I'm able to leave my body and feed my brain on a richly complex feedback loop of reading them read me, watching my actions register in the nasty part of my lover's reptile brain, watching their verbal and physical reactions to me, and then mirroring back their desire. It's pure fucking unadulterated self-indulgence for a lifelong close reader of people.

Tomorrow, I have a date. And I want me some of that.


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