Do I like Vikings?

Do I like Vikings?

Vikings like this one?

Or this one?

Why yes, I think I do.

The Swede is descended from Vikings.

So am I, as least in part.

Maybe a Viking and a Scot fell in love a long time ago and to them I owe my whole existence.

Maybe a Viking PLUNDERED and PILLAGED a Scot village a long time ago and to that I owe my whole existence.

In reality, the story of my conception is pretty damn cool.

Two eighth graders fell foolishly in love and whoops!

Made a baby.

The Swede flies in on April 30th and we’re set to go on a date.

If he’s not too jet lagged.

I’m looking forward to seeing this modern day Viking again, just before UnSCruz.

The big news is. . .

. . . I have kicked Tejas out of our tent so that we can have some privacy.

Don’t worry, I’m bringing a backup tent for Tejas.

He was bummed when I told him but said it was predictable.

“Think of it as a way for you to get your own privacy too,” I hinted.

So there you have it.

I’m finally willing to admit I MAY want privacy with The Swede.

And by God, I’ll get it!

The Swede, kissing and UnSCruz

OMG, she’s not going to blog about The Swede again, is she?

Yes.

She.

Is.

Because he’s handsome, funny, and shy and that all adds up to make him pretty fricking irresistible to me.

He’s CHARMING.

Lord knows I don’t meet enough charming men.

Ones who want to cum in my ass and on my face (two things which do NOTHING for me), but the charming ones are few and far between.

The Swede also kisses like a board certified expert.

Trust me.

I’ve kissed a lot of men.

The Swede is EASILY in the Top 5 best kissers of ALL TIME.

The best kisses suck you into them so all you can think about is their mouth on your mouth.

They curl your toes and maybe, JUST MAYBE, get you a little juicy.

That’s what it’s like to kiss The Swede.

I swear I want to just melt into his body and feel every inch of him against me.

I may get my chance at UnSCruz seeing as how we are sharing a tent together.

I warned him the other day, “There will be ropes. We’re staying in a BDSM camp.”

He replied, “I’ve never done that but it could be fun.”

This is exactly the attitude you need to have going into a Burning Man event: open minded, ready to have fun, curious.

“There may be nudity,” I warned him.

Yours or mine?

I think The Swede will have a great time.

I told him my wish for him, “I hope you have a mind blowing good time.”

And I do.

I really do.

The Swede

The Swede has been texting me and it’s been more fun than a tornado in a trailer park.

He went out drinking with a friend and I got fantastic text messages from him as he drank beer.

He asked me if I was interested in visiting Sweden.

Technically, 60% of my DNA is from Scandinavia, and it would love to visit the homeland.

There’s the Vasa Museum, all the canals to navigate, and the ABBA Museum.

You know I can’t miss the ABBA Museum!

Sadly, I have no plans to visit Sweden in the near future, but it’s definitely on my list of places to go.

And it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to Finland where I can sleep in a glass igloo under the aurora borealis.

Sigh.

It’s hard to not imagine snuggling under the glass dome with The Swede.

And, of course, there’s the saunas in Finland.

Nothing like a nice hot naked sweat followed by a giant leap into the freezing outdoors.

Hey, it’s GOOD for you!

Perhaps I will talk my sister into a trip to Sweden next year.

Our last big trip was Scotland in 2008.

I have to admit, it would be nice to see The Swede in his territory.

Nice to see The Swede fullstop.

I’m listening. . .

michelleSomeone asked me to spend the night.

I’d been complaining about driving all the way home only to have him ask me to turn around and go all the way back to visit him.

It was his last night in the Bay Area.

We’d originally scheduled a date however my mom was having a meltdown over my eldest son threatening to quit his job. And my younger son was upset that the bunny he tried to save from being murdered by our cat had died.

So I cancelled my date with him.

I arrived home only to discover that everyone was gone. My boys were at their dad’s house and my mom was nowhere to be found.

So I texted him with my frustrations.

“Come over to the hotel,” he urged.

I just got home, I told him. I’d like to see you but I hate driving all the way home then driving back.

“Then stay until morning. . .”

Uh, no.

Jeez!

I have come to the conclusion that I’m either very discerning about who I spend the night with (aka have sex) or I’m lousy at bedding new lovers. Because I’m definitely not frigid.

I’ve used all of the following excuses to get out of having sex with someone:

  • My kids need me home.
  • I have my period.
  • I need to take a shower.
  • I’m really tired.
  • I’ve got a boyfriend.
  • Big dicks freak me out.
  • And so on. . .

The truth of the matter is I just simply don’t want to for a variety of reasons but I don’t know how to express it.

There’s pretty much nothing that can keep me from boinking if that’s what I truly desire.

But I seldom meet people who create that desire in me, and when I do, they’re usually not into me.

So here’s my question: Do I need to just bite the bullet and give in to casual sex with someone I’m not that into, or do I stay strong and wait until I’m truly moved to do so?

I’m listening. . .