www.nysgjerrig.net

[smud-nysgjerrig]

The glass door

She could feel him before she could see him. She went into the big, open room, with a tall ceiling and furniture that looked like they were from a Sherlock Holmes novel. The only lights in the room were two lamps, one in each corner of the room. Just enough light to see his silhouette when she turned around.

“What do you want?”, she asked as she pulled out her hair tie from her long, black ponytail.  She shook her head lightly to get all her hair out. She followed him with her eyes. He came towards her while he was opening the buttons in his suit jacket. She kicked off her high heels and pushed them to one side. His jacket was off, and he tossed it onto one of the chairs he passed on his way to her.

She remained standing still looking at the dark shadow coming to her. She didn’t really know what to think. His fingers moved smoothly down over the buttons on his shirt, and they were opened one by one. He stopped right in front of her. She could see his bare chest and smell the cologne that felt so familiar.

“I want you”, he said. He kissed her on the lips and then down her neck. She bent her head back in pleasure and her hands went automatically to his chest. She could feel the hairs on his chest. Her fingers moved silently outwards and up to his shoulders so that his shirt slid off them. He moved his arms back so that it fell to the floor.

He moved one of his hands around her and back to the zipper of her dress. She pushed him away. “I can’t”, she said and walked away from him, towards the garden doors. Two big glass doors led outside to a neatly trimmed lawn and a big pool. The water in the pool looked bright blue and was illuminated by small circular lights around the edge, under the water.

The sky was dark, and the rest of the garden bathed in moonlight. She wanted to open the doors and smell the warm summer air. He stood behind her, pressing his chest softly against her back. “Why not?”, he asked. “There is only you and me. Right here, right now”. His hands went from her shoulders, down her sides and to her ass. His fingers danced across it, and she could feel her whole body tingling.

She turned around and looked into his beautiful, dark eyes. They were black in this light. He smiled and leaned in. She tried to resist, but her body wanted him. They kissed. Her fingers floated through his dark, slightly curly hair. She loved the feeling of him. It felt like home. Safe. Warm. Even though he hurt her one time. She hadn’t forgotten but wanted to forgive.

He had begged her forgiveness. Showered her with flowers and beautifully written cards. Now, in this moment, when his hands were on her body, trailing her curves and his mouth on her neck, nothing mattered anymore. In this moment, it was only him and her.

She let him unzip her dress this time. It fell easily to the floor and left her standing in her black lace panties and bra. He got them off too. She stepped out of the clothes and reached for his pants. He grabbed her hands and led her to one of the chairs. She sat down and he knelt on the thick carpet in front of her. He spread her legs and his head disappeared between them. She leaned back. A moan escaped her lips as two of his fingers glided inside of her. His tongue found her clit at the same time.

Her thoughts disappeared into black and pure pleasure. All she knew was his touch, his fingers that fucked her, the softness of his tongue on her pussy. She didn’t want to leave this place. Where he was. Where his fingers were. She reached down to his head and curled her fingers in his soft hair. She moaned again. She could feel a warmth building up inside of her. Her hand went to her boob and pinched her nipple, softly. She wanted him more and more with the heat that grew inside of her.

At last, she felt the heat exploding. First by his tongue and increasing and spreading with his fingers. She bent her back and forward towards his head. “Yes, yes!” she moaned. He didn’t stop. His fingers moved quickly in and out of her and she could feel her own wetness running down his fingers and her thigh.

He stopped in steps. First, his tongue stopped, and he looked up at her. He kissed her inner thighs, still fucking her with his two fingers. He stood up slowly, kissing her legs, her belly, her boobs. Finally reaching her lips. She pulled him towards her and kissed him passionately. She could taste herself on his lips.

She reached again for his pants and this time he let her. She could feel his cock against her hand as she unzipped the pants. He opened the belt and pulled the pants and boxers off. Their lips were still glued to each other.

He stood naked in front of her. She relished the sight. “Come with me”, he said and took her hand. She obeyed. He led her back to the glass doors. One he opened. The other, he pushed her up against, face first. She could smell the air and felt the coolness of the glass against her boobs and belly. He spread her legs from behind. She felt his cock against her ass cheek.

He pulled her ass out and pushed her face to the glass. She obeyed again. This was home for her. She couldn’t deny it anymore. She knew he was it. Despite the past. That didn’t mean anything anymore. He wanted her and she wanted him. Her whole body told her so. She couldn’t have stopped this even if she wanted to. She was his.

His cock slid inside of her, just as easily as his fingers had. He started to move, in and out. She moaned into the glass and made it fog up. His hands were on her hips, moving them with him. Her hands were on the glass door, trying to steady herself. Her knees felt weak. She could feel him filling her up. Both physically and mentally. She closed her eyes and focused on his member going in and out of her at an accelerating pace.

He bent over and kissed her back. His tongue traced her lines as his hand went forward and found her boob and nipple again. He pinched her lightly. She was not on this plain anymore. She felt her mind going blank again. She was only touch. She was only body and soul. Intertwined with him. His cock, his tongue, his fingers on her. Only flesh.

She could feel his hand on her pussy again, rubbing her clit. The warmth came back immediately. It didn’t take long before she felt the explosion again. She cried out as her juices flowed down her thigh. He moaned, pulled out and turned her around. Then he lifted her and spread her legs around his waist and slipped her down onto his cock. She put her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck, kissing it.

He fucked her standing, leaning her somewhat against the glass door. She bounced on his cock and they both moaned. Her boobs pressed against his chest. His hands were on her ass, holding her up. He could feel his own orgasm coming. He fucked her harder, faster. She moaned into his neck, louder this time.

He came inside of her but kept fucking her for a little while. They kissed again. His cock slid out of her, and she slipped to the floor, still kissing. Then they went out onto the lawn towards the pool.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Why?

Sometimes I wonder why certain things happen to me (also of course in the world, but this is my page and therefore a rant about my life).

During the pandemic, I didn’t have a job and my life was shit. I tried to stay positive and I was lucky enough to have people around me that helped me. I wasn’t really dating anyone… no one I really cared about at least… so my social life wasn’t much to talk about.

About a year ago now I got a job. My life turned around in a couple of days and suddenly everything looked brighter and on track.

These last, maybe two months, other things have started to happen. Some people have come into my life in various ways and made me think things and feel things I don’t understand. I don’t understand why this happens now.

I was talking to a friend of mine about this and she said it was because I was in a better place mentally and I was ready for it. She also meant that I was sending positive vibes out into the universe and that’s what I am getting back. I like that idea and way of thinking. I’m not sure I believe it, but it does seem logical sometimes.

The thing is though, that the stuff that is happening is puzzling to me. It’s about attraction. I haven’t felt attracted to anyone in years. Not really. Sure, I like the way some people look, but not the kind of attraction that makes your body react.

And now, suddenly, several people have made my body react. And I am not sure I like it. And I really don’t understand it. These people are not someone I “can have”. There are several reasons for this… but that’s not important. The thing is… why? Why now, and why these people?

One of them is even a guy that I had a thing with a couple of years ago. He then disappeared, without me feeling anything about that. And now he is suddenly back. Out of the blue. And in my head. And I’m not sure I like it. He is a cool dude, but we live very far apart, so it will never amount to anything. So this is my boggle… why?

Sure, I would like to meet someone to share my life with. But I can’t date someone who lives in another city. So what did I put out in the universe to attract this?

The positive thing about all this is that I am feeling things I didn’t know I could anymore. I thought my feelings were shut down. I never imagined that someone could arouse these kinds of visceral emotions and reactions in me again. So I am grateful for that. Grateful to know I’m not totally dead inside. But still… why? Why these people? Why now? How am I supposed to relate to this? Am I supposed to learn something? I have no idea what is going on… but I’m kinda intrigued and I’m kinda curious about what comes next.

If anyone has some sort of explanation for this, I’m all ears. I’m clueless.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Men = fascinating

Men can be very fascinating. There is a big difference in how us womenfolk perceive them, depending on our mood, what kind of situation it is, what they are wearing, how they talk and so on.

I know I keep coming back to this topic, but it is so fascinating and I learn something new every other day. I also discover new sides to my own personality in relation to this, and things that I am attracted to and get curious about.

There are definitely things that women are attracted to in men, in a general sense. But it’s also individual. One thing I notice and like about a guy could seem idiotic to another woman. And vice versa. Sometimes it is really incomprehensible why a guy gets all the attention, and other times not.

I do think though, that some things are universal. There are always exceptions, but there are some things that are mentioned a lot when I talk to women about this.

Two things are eyes and hands. Something most women notice quickly about a guy. We also usually like the same kinds of eyes and hands. Big hands, strong hands… hands that are taken care of, but also show signs of being used. Eyes… some kind of clear colour… ice blue, nut-brown or so dark that you can get lost in them.

How they hold themselves is also something we often notice. How a man enters a room, how he looks at us when we are talking to him, if his eyes connect to ours or if he is looking away a lot. This applies both when he is talking to us or to someone else. If we see a man we like we can be very observant, even if we aren’t in direct contact with the guy. We notice the little movements in his face, his smile, his eyes, his lips… we see how he stands, how he holds his arms, if he fiddles with something, if he is mirroring the person he is talking to and so on. Sometimes it is scary how many details we can see in a short amount of time.

If we have his social media in addition to this, there are no limits to what we can find out and see. Videos are the best media, especially if we haven’t seen this guy in real life. Then we can study his motions and hear his voice. Always a good thing. (This might be why we “fall in love” with actors so quickly).

There is a clip floating around on the interwebs of Mr Sebastian Stan from a Prada campaign. He walks into a room, sits down on a couch, puts his arm out on the back of the couch and looks at the camera. The look he gives the camera can not be described, but I think I can safely say that almost every woman in the western hemisphere feels that look in her bones. For some of us, it goes right into our souls.

There are a lot of women who would become butter in a man’s hands if he gave her that look. Even women who aren’t naturally submissive (like me) would cave in an instant. I could also mention (as I have in a previous post) that in the movie The 355, Stan says in a scene “Do as you’re told”. Another peak example of what I am talking about.

The problem is that some men believe that they can give these looks and commands, but fails miserably. Then the reaction they are getting is the opposite of what they want, and it can’t be fixed. If we place you in the “aww, that’s cute”- category, you will most likely never get to the “yes, master” – category. The cute category isn’t necessarily negative, but it is not the same and fewer women want that. There is an in-between category too and that can be good for some people.

My point with this rant is that men can get women so much easier than they think. And with different methods than they think. So, stop sending dick pics and give us THE look that shows us what you want.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Men and their (fucking) bodies.

What is the deal with men and their relationship to their own bodies? Why is the body so important? And why do they put so much pride in their dicks?

I am always amazed by how much men (in general) talk about their dicks. I hear it amongst friends, on YouTube, social media and some podcasts. Some are talking about the body in regard to training and health, and that is understandable and relatable. Women do that too. But when men talk about it, it is focused on that one part of their body. Size, girth, colour, balls etc. Why? Do they believe that women care? I can tell you right now, we don’t. If we like a guy, the dick is the last thing we are thinking about. What MIGHT be a theme is how it is used. Not how it looks or what size it is.

“What would you prefer? An ugly guy with an 8-inch dick, or a handsome one with 4 inches?” My answer is always the same. “Which one is fun to be with and makes me laugh?” Most men are puzzled by my answer. ‘Cuz that wasn’t the question. They were asking about the size, not the guy. The question is really, 4 or 8 inches? And once again I am surprised that they think that that has any value. Both can be great if we like the guy, and he knows how to work it. 8 inches isn’t anything if the guy doesn’t know how to satisfy a woman.

I am wondering if guys think that women automatically get an orgasm if there are enough inches. That, if the dick is above some magical limit we will all be happy and the rest of the guy isn’t important.

I have yet to meet a woman who says after a date: “He was really ugly, but at least his dick was big” I also don’t know ANY woman who is attracted to just a dick. We usually see the whole picture. The whole man. And that includes personality, how we are treated and what he makes us feel like. Sure, we can be captivated by looks, but that is also centred around other parts of the man. Never his dick.

If a woman talks about the fact that she has a crush on a guy, she talks about his eyes, hands, the looks he gives her, what kinds of emotions she has when she thinks about him and that sort of thing. NEVER his dick.

So, I ask again. Why are men so focused on the dick? Are you being told something when you are growing up that we don’t know about? Is it because it hangs outside of your body and you see it all the time? My curiosity about this is high. Maybe because I get dick pics all the time, in addition to the fact that I hear men talk about it on various media.

The sad thing about this is that I think a lot of a man’s self-image and self-esteem are related to how the dick looks. And that a lot of younger guys think that the dick is the only body part that means anything. This isn’t true, of course, but I can understand it if you look at society today.

Women talk about boobs and the crotch area too, but in a whole other fashion. It is not a standard topic of conversation, but if it comes up it is usually health related. I have never discussed size, form and colour on my bits with friends. We MIGHT have compared boob sizes at a party, but if that happens it is usually in a jokingly manner, and never in detail.

I don’t have a conclusion for this rant. But if anyone out there wants to discuss or tell me about this, please put it in the comments. I just want to point it out again; size, colour, and how it looks (as long as you are taking care of it) don’t matter. How you behave towards us; if you make us laugh, if you are caring, if you have a playful look in your eye and you know what you want, make that shine through. THAT is something we notice.

I want to add also; the size of your dick doesn’t matter in general, because women are different too. An 8-inch dick could feel big to someone and small to someone else. We are all built differently and no one has a standard size inside. We have different depths and can take all kinds of thicknesses. So if this is a theme with you because of us, stop. If it is about something else, tell me! I wanna know!   

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Confidence.

I think I have talked about this before, but I have recently discovered some stuff that I want to add to the discussion. I talked about how I like the word “fuck” and how some sentences are more impactful than others. I’ve also mentioned that some voices have more effect on me than others.

Recently I’ve discussed this with some friends, and there seems to be an agreement about how men sometimes move. How they walk, how they carry themselves, and how they stand in front of us when talking to us (this goes for some women too).

Personally, I’ve had some experiences with a couple of people where this has come into play. One was when I got someone to laugh and we shared a joke. I got shivers hearing his laughter in my ear. In a very good way (also, just his voice in general, but that’s not as fun to write about). And then there was this other guy and how he walks up to people. How he enters a room. So confident. So strong. So self-secure. He knows what he wants and how to get it. It radiates from him.

This is, generally, something women like. You can find communities on TikTok that show this. Where men try to copy what we are talking about. Both in ways to walk, and how to speak. Not everyone is successful, but at least they are trying to figure it out.

As I talked about in a previous post, it all comes down to one thing; confidence (and playfulness). And I am not sure if it can be taught. The sound/voice thing is not easy to replicate, but the way someone walks might be something someone could learn.

I have also mentioned this before, but the way a guy says “good girl”, “do as you’re told”… my god. I had a real visceral reaction to those sentences and they weren’t even said to me. It was in a couple of movies. But the way they were uttered. Sort of out of the blue. I was not expecting it. Instant submission. I am not a submissive person in general, but say the right words at the right time, and I am yours.

So, in addition to my last post, be confident guys and you will get whoever you want. But it can’t be faked. We can tell.

Oh, btw, do you want examples? Sebastian Stan in Captain America: The Winter Soldier and The 355 (in this movie the women also have the it-factor). Chris Evans in The Grey Man. Andrew Lincoln and Norman Reedus in The Walking Dead. Manny Montana in Good Girls. Michael B. Jordan in Black Panther. Charlie Hunnam in Sons of Anarchy. Keanu Reeves in John Wick and The Matrix. All of the Peaky Blinders people. Tom Hardy in The Dark Knight Rises. Tom Hiddleston as Loke and Kong: Skull Island. Lee Pace in Guardians of the Galaxy. Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction. Tessa Thompson as the Valkyrie. I could probably name more, but I’ll stop. You get the point.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Are you playful?

There is a lot of talk about the female and male gaze these days on social media. And how men don't understand why women like certain men.

Sure, Chris Evans is hot. Sure, Henry Cavill is handsome. Sure Jason Momoa is muscular. But that's not why we like them. We like them because they don't take themselves too seriously. They are nerdy about certain things. They are playful.

What happened to being playful? I recently 'discovered' a guy on TikTok. Kinda normal guy who dances with other people. The first time I saw him wasn't even on his page and he was dancing in the background. The reason why I noticed him? The look in his eyes. His mischievous smile and an eyebrow that would not quit. My god. Sure, he can dance. Sure, he has tattoos and is handsome in a conventional way. But the smile...the eyes...

I watched a few more of his TikToks, both with only him and with other dancers. I couldn't take my eyes off him. It was so obvious that he loves to dance. He enjoyed every minute of it and his face did not hide it.

That's what made me think about this gaze thing. Some people will never get it, and that's fine. But people... if you want someone to fall in love with you.... be nerdy. Be playful.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Suddenly

Online dating is just bullshit, she thought. No one is serious enough to do anything other than fuck one night and then never see each other again. She had all sorts of people on her “match-lists”. Some she had talked a bit with, some not so much. Most of the conversations were about sex and usually, there wasn’t a meeting.

It seemed to her that most of the guys online was just into “dirty talking” and didn’t really want to meet. They always had an excuse. She didn’t really get it. She didn’t really like all this texting. Sure, the attention was fun, but she would like at least some of the conversations to become something else.

She had met some though. There had been some nice ones and some she wanted to get away from after 5 min. Her conclusion was that it was a lot of different people out there and not all of them was interesting enough for her. She had also noticed that some people were more exciting online than they were in real life. She guessed that it had something to do with thinking time. When you are texting someone, you usually have some time to think about a response. In real life, you don’t.

She laughed to herself. It was funny to think about how “easy” some guys were. Just mention the word “sex” and they stayed glued to their phone for hours. The fact that she could (and wanted to) talk about sex was shocking for many people. But they all liked it. They all wanted more. They usually wanted more details. But it all got boring really fast these days. She needed more. She needed skin.

There was, however, a couple that had grabbed her attention. A couple who could hold her focus. But only one of them made it tickle inside her when he answered her texts. Sadly though, he lived in another city. They had talked about meeting. Played around with the thought of laying next to each other, feeling each other. Looking into each other’s eyes. She had even dreamt about him a couple of times; how his hands would feel on her skin. How his lips would taste. How it would be to wake up next to him. It had felt so real that she had a smile on her face when she woke up.

He was beautiful. His smile lit up her whole world when she saw him. She loved to make him laugh, and luckily that wasn’t difficult. That really went both ways though, they had the same kind of humor. She looked up from her book. Looking around the pub, she tried to change her focus. She was sitting in her favorite pub and saw some familiar faces. There weren’t too many people here, but enough to make her disappear a bit. She was usually the center of attention in her friend group, so she liked the anonymity sometimes. The book she was reading didn’t really capture her that much and her mind began to wander. She really wanted to text him. Wanted to see him. Wanted to hear his voice. But she was a girl, after all, so she had to play “hard to get”. Stupid really. Though, she didn’t want to seem desperate.

On the other hand, she didn’t really agree with that sort of thinking. Why couldn’t she tell him that she liked him? Why couldn’t she be honest and upfront about it? Why did people play this game and pretend like nothing? People complain about the fact that it was difficult to find someone to spend some time with, but they weren’t honest about their emotions. She tried to not be like that. She had given her number to people in the pub if she liked what she saw. She had talked to people and really told them what she thought about them, without any shame. But if she liked someone a bit more than that, it suddenly became difficult. She didn’t see any problems with those kinds of things when it was someone she had just met or just saw across the room. But when she had talked a bit with the person, shared thoughts and feelings, it was a different thing. Then you had to be careful. You might get hurt. This time it was no question about if the guy liked her or not. It was fairly obvious that he did. But she usually let him make the first move.

“Fuck this,” she said to herself and got her phone. She texted him. He had just moved into a new apartment, so she asked him how the first night was. He didn’t answer. He usually answered quickly. She put down her phone and opened her book again. “I guess he is busy”, she thought. Minutes went by, still no answer. Dead silent. Her head was empty. The words in the book didn’t have any meaning. It was kind of irritating that this meant so much to her. She would probably never even meet this guy. But he had gotten under her skin. Through text, skype and with his smile.

A sound punched through the silence. A message. From him. They ended up on Skype that evening. A beautiful night. He had even said he was sorry for not responding right away to her text earlier. He was gorgeous and her world was once again quite nice.

The summer was coming in fast and it got hotter. She didn’t have any summer plans until the end of the summer, so she was looking forward to some quiet days at work. They talked almost every day and she always went to bed with a smile. She noticed that he became more distant after a while. She didn’t think too much about it though. They both had jobs that took up a lot of time. She was also being more social than usual, and their days weren’t always compatible. One day he started asking about her work and where she lived. He wanted more details of her life. She wondered why. He said he just felt like he didn’t know as much about her as he wanted to. She smiled. This made her happy. This was not expected but she liked it. They talked for many hours about their life and work.

The conversation glided over to their dreams again. He told her what he wanted to do to her. How he hoped he would get to touch her, kiss her neck and taste her. He wanted to feel her skin beneath his fingertips. Follow the lines on her body and the contours of her breasts and down her stomach. He wanted to spread her legs and feel her wetness on his fingers. He wanted to put his head between her legs and let his tongue play on her clit, feel it pulsate. He wanted to satisfy her in every way possible, with his tongue and his fingers. Her body responded to his words and she felt horny. She nodded in agreement with everything he said. Maybe more so than she wanted to admit.

His voice felt like velvet around her and she closed her eyes. Got swept away with his words. “Did you fall asleep?” he asked. She opened her eyes and looked at him; “No, I’m just thinking about what you are saying. I like how your mind works”, she said. They both smiled. He got a spark in his eye and kept talking. Sadly, it was getting late. They both had work the next day, so they hung up.

The next day she was at work alone. It was a slow day and it was kind of boring alone, but she still had stuff to do. The sun was shining, the air was warm, and the customers were happy. It was a good day. Right before closing time she went into the backroom to shut the lights. When she came back out, he was standing there in the middle of the store, smiling. She stopped and looked at him. She couldn’t believe that it was actually him standing there. Here, in her store, right in front of her. She couldn’t find the words. He walked a bit closer to her and said “hi”. She was in shock. They were close enough to touch each other. He reached out for her and she did the same. Their hands met in the air and she felt a prickling all over her body.

Their fingers intertwined. He pulled her closer and took her other hand too. His hand matched hers perfectly. She looked up and into his brown eyes. He didn’t smile anymore. His face was serious; “I had to see you. All my doubts were gone after our last conversation. I had to see you in real life to find out if there were something more here”. She nodded. She still hadn’t found her words and her head was a chaos of thoughts and feelings. “I guess I should’ve told you”, he said. He looked down. Suddenly felt shy. “No, yeah, maybe”, she said. “But I like the surprise”. She smiled and lifted his face with her finger under his chin. “Hey”, she said. He grabbed her waist, pulled her closer and their lips met. A warmth spread around inside her. She pulled away and said; “Let me just lock the door”. She smiled and pointed to the backroom.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Porn

Who is the porn made for? Some of the titles on sites like Pornhub and Xhamster could indicate that they tried to lure women in; huge cock, huge load, shares a cock, gets a huge cock. While others are obviously meant for men; huge tits, tiny tits, teen, tight hole, gets fucked in every hole and so on.

But who really watches porn? It is mostly men. Women watch too, but it is mainly focused on men. Worldwide there are under 30% of women who watches porn (at least who admits it). That is still a very small amount, even though it has increased after porn got more available online.

There are sections on the sites that are for women, with “porn for women”. Those are usually more soft porn or more sensual. Luckily there are people out there who are making porn for women, people like Erika Lust. She makes porn based on her own preferences with real people and all types of sex.

In my experience, porn for women is femdom-stuff or very sensual. It’s either sweet and romantic or hardcore BDSM. But maybe I’ve just not looked closely enough.

It seems like there is a general obsession with watching the cock go in and out of the woman. sometimes the woman is even forced to look at it, or they ask to see. Is this realistic? Personally, I’ve never wanted to see it, or needed to. I really struggle with understanding the obsession, in general, with the cock. I guess that is a lot of the reason why I’m even writing this.

There will, of course, be a lot of opinions about this. Everyone has their own take on it. But I’m trying to speak in general terms. I have, for instance, never met a woman who is as occupied with the cock as men are. I watched a podcast recently, called The Basement Yard, where Danny and Joe are talking about seeing their buddies’ cocks. Danny wanted to know how many Joe had seen. It was never a question of IF, just HOW MANY. And Joe told. He admitted having seen a lot of them, not all, but a lot. They talked about it like it was a totally normal thing to do. Danny had also seen some.

How many women have seen their girlfriends’ vaginas? Not many. Very few. Maybe some have seen some boobs, but then it usually is a slip or something special. And if we see the boobs, they are usually covered with a bra. I don’t know any girls who have seen their friends’ vaginas on purpose or someone who would see that as a natural thing to do.

Is this a coincidence? Is it just me and my girls who are shy and prudish? We talk a lot about sex, but those kinds of things have never been natural. We never really talk about the details of sex either, just the general sense. If we are going to describe a sexual encounter for our girls, we talk in general about how the guy makes us feel, how good he was, maybe some moves he had and if he knows what he is doing. We do sometimes talk about fetishes, but that is also rare, and it depends on who I’m talking to. It is very rare to talk about size or how hard he fucked us. We talk about the general feeling.

So, what gets people going? Does a hetero man get off on watching another guy fuck a woman? Does a hetero man get off on watching another man’s cock go in and out of a woman? Does a hetero man get off on seeing a man fuck a man? How important is the cock, really?

POV is porn filmed by the man’s point of view. You see the woman in different positions and the lower half of the man (usually). You will then see the cock go in and out of the woman. I often hear that POV is the best kind of porn. Is that because it’s easier for the guy to place himself in that situation? But it’s still another man’s cock you are watching. Maybe they aren’t watching the cock at all? I’ve often also heard guys say that they don’t want to share a woman or be in a threesome/gangbang with several guys. But it’s still a very popular search on the porn-sites. The same goes for cockhold stuff.

Are there cultural differences in this? I would assume so, seeing that porn, in general, is illegal in very many countries in this world. So, I guess there are different things we want to see and get off on. But in many of those cultures, they worship the penis. There are penis festivals in several Asian countries and phallic symbols over the entire world. Have we always been this obsessed with the cock? Maybe so. There is evidence all the way back to ancient Egypt where the people have drawn pornographic pictures on papyrus. In some of them, the men have massive cocks and are fucking beautiful women in unrealistic positions.

Despite all of this we are in a world (at least in my country) where the most sold sex-toy is a clitoris stimulator that doesn’t resemble a cock at all. Have we as women finally taken back the orgasm? Have we finally understood that it takes more than a stick to get the job done? Have we as women, finally started to explore and understand our own sexuality? Have we started to actually like our own bodies? And have we started to look at the vagina as something beautiful and not something ugly that we must be ashamed of? Are we standing in front of a worldwide change?

Maybe even the men are starting to understand that it’s not about the size? That it’s more about how you use it and if you know what you are doing? Have they stopped believing that big = good? Are they starting to realize that there are more points on a woman’s body that need to be stimulated in the search of a good orgasm? Have they finally understood that the cock isn’t the most important thing?

One thing that definitely has changed over the years is the type of porn we watch. A lot of people are into amateur -porn these days. They want it as “natural as possible”. And that is exactly what they are getting; bad lighting, bad filming, bad angles but very real people. Also, real enjoyment (usually). I like this change. The Swedish filmmaker Erika Lust (who I mentioned earlier) talks about this in her TEDx talk from Vienna. She talks about the first time she watched porn. How the woman looked like a Barbie doll and the guy looked like a Greek god with a cock that should be on a horse. This made her feel repulsed instead of happy. I can relate. I never understood how men can be turned on by a doll. Something that clearly isn’t real or natural in any way. There is, of course, a fetish that covers this too. But those are more like porcelain dolls who are supposed to look like actual dolls and are being moved around like one.

That is not what I am talking about and what we are seeing in “American bunny-porn”. There we find the “girl next door” who has long, blond hair, lots of makeup in pink hues, fake lashes that makes her gaze look blurry, a waist that swings in so much that it looks like she is missing some organs and boobs that pokes right out. Why do men like this? Why is it okay to show a girl like this being fucked by a man when her enjoyment and squeals are obviously fake? There is also this thing in porn with the enjoyment. We usually only hear the woman. She is loud and is supposed to be liking it, but it’s only the man who gets to finish. (Luckily there are some porn movies where we see the woman finish too, but those are rarer).

Logic? Not quite. Not for me at least. Finding Erika Lust films were a revelation for me. She is showing the world like it is. Sure, the woman is very beautiful, but they are all different. They may be a bit polished, but they are real. They have different body types, different heights, different colors. It is also very clear that both men and woman are enjoying the experience. There are no doubts about if the sounds and expressions on their faces are real. And it is beautiful to watch, and sometimes arousing. I would argue that Lustfilms got it right.

The fact that amateur videos have become more popular is also an indication that we want something other than the barbie-dolls that never gets off. But even in the amateur-world, it seems like it’s always the man who gets off in the end. And I think it’s time to change that.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

Sex-toys and prostitution

Why is there a difference between how men and women are perceived when we talk about sex-toys and prostitution?

I heard someone say “if a woman gets a sex-toy she is seen as liberated. If a man gets one, he is seen as a pervert”. This made me think. Why is this true? Why is it different when it’s a woman? Why is a woman liberated when she uses sex-toys when a man isn’t? They most likely both have them for the same reason and are using them in the same way and setting. Most likely, both are using them alone, at home, in their own bed.

So why is the man a pervert? Why is the man doing something “dirty” while the woman is “taking control over her own sexuality”? I am guilty in thinking this too. But I don’t know why. I’ve talked to guys about sex-toys and that there really aren’t that many options for men. Sex-toys in general, are for women or for couples. There are of course some for men, but I will argue that the selection is better for the women.

Does the types of sex-toys have anything to do with our perception? The sex-toys that are made exclusively for men are usually flesh-lights, a blow-up doll or parts of the female body. There isn’t anything like that in the women’s department. You could maybe find a blow-up man, but those are rare. So maybe society finds it more “perverted” to fuck something that resembles a human being than a plastic thing that looks like a penis.

Sex-dolls are also targeted to men. They are made to look like women. Not real women though. Most of the sex-dolls look like barbie dolls in a human size. I’m sure you could get one made that looks like a guy too, but I’ve never heard about that. Most documentaries are made about men who buy these kinds of dolls. The interesting thing is though, that some of the men who buy these dolls aren’t single. Or they are single, but have no problems getting laid by a real woman. So why do they buy the dolls and why do we see it as something dirty or tragic?

I discussed this the other day with some people, and it seems like some people think that the bigger the sex-toy is, the more pathetic it is. Also, the person that buys them seems lonelier if the sex-toy is a doll. A pocket-pussy is equivalent to a dildo. So that is “allowed” and not really weird in any way. But if the toy is a part of a body or a doll, the man who owns it is on the brink of being a “weirdo” or lonely. And that goes for the woman too. If she has a blow-up Ken in her closet, she is also considered lonely.

Again, I wonder, why is there a difference at all? Is it because men see it as a turn-on if a woman owns a sex-toy? I have, on several occasions, been told that it’s “hot” that I have sex-toys. The men I talk to want to hear more about what kind they are and how I use them. Of course, some of them wants to see it too. I have yet to meet a woman who thinks like this. We usually think it’s cool that a guy has a sex-toy (as long as it’s not a doll), but we don’t find it “hot” and we don’t want to see it.

What about prostitution? Let’s say, for the sake of the discussion, that it was legal and consensual. No human trafficking and no abuse. Is it okay for both genders to buy sex? Is there a difference? In my opinion there is no difference. If you want to pay for sex, go right ahead. I won’t judge. Sometimes it’s easier and you just need a quick fix. Maybe you don’t want any drama, you don’t feel the need to know the person you fuck or maybe you find it more exciting. You do you.

But a woman who buys sex is portrayed “cleaner” and more “liberated” than a man. And I’m talking about how the media and the pop culture is showing it. I watched a tv-show that told the story of a male prostitute. He had a female “pimp”. When this pimp is trying to get clients and are “selling the product”, she is using terms as “liberating”, “make you feel like a queen”, “you deserve to be desired for once” and so on. So, the woman is supposed to feel more in control of herself and her body when she buys sex. She is being a modern woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid of getting it. It all plays to her desires and her terms. This works on both single and married women. If a woman is married it is justified by the fact that her husband works too much and doesn’t consider what she needs. It is never shown as something negative. Sometimes the women who buys this “gigolo” doesn’t even want sex. They want to be held, they want some kind of dream date or other things like that. They want to be seen. They want to be wanted. They want to be the center of attention. The transaction is also interesting. The woman meets with the “pimp” beforehand in a cozy café and gives her the cash up front. Then the woman either rents a nice hotel room or gives them her address. The gigolo is dresses nicely in a suit and looks like any other man who was there to ask the woman out on a date.

If a man buys sex, it’s just dirty. A guy drives up to a girl on the street. She is dressed in a short skirt and a top that barely covers her. She gets into the car and maybe he just wants a BJ right there and then. Or maybe he takes her to a motel near by and fucks her on a dirty bed. In some cases, they are even out on the street in an alleyway. She is usually cheap and the whole thing is over in under an hour. No one talks about the liberation of the man’s sexuality or that the man has the right to feel like a king for just a moment. There is no talk about the fact that he deserves it or that he would feel better after.

If a man pays a bit more for sex, the woman is a “high-end prostitute” or an “escort”. That is maybe more okay in a social sense, but it’s still seen as “desperate” or “sad”. Sometimes these escorts are also used as a trick to make someone feel more welcome in a country. Like in the business world, someone might pay for girls to entertain their clients. So, the girls are essentially dolls. They are being played with and used. It’s very rare that the female prostitute is portrayed as someone who wants to do it. And if they do it of their own free will, there is usually some big money reason. (So maybe it’s not free will after all).

I still don’t know why these differences exist. I don’t understand why it’s sadder that a guy owns a sex-toy than a woman. Why is it dirtier for a guy to watch porn or buy sex? But I find it interesting how society differentiates between genders in such ways. Are we just following the society blindly in this matter? Have we really thought about it? I haven’t, until now. I used to think it was kind of weird when a guy told me about his sex-toy. And I thought that the dolls were kind of creepy. I don’t anymore, really. And the sex-trade? That’s a shady business no matter who does it and I guess I think it is kind of sad if you have to pay for it. But at the same time, I understand why some people do it. I definitely understand why people sell sex. There is a lot of money in that field and it is, after all, the oldest trade in the known world.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

New Future

A break-up is never a fun thing. Your future is suddenly changed. In the course of a day or two your whole future looks different, and maybe not better. Maybe you thought your future would be with this person. You thought you would be with this person for the rest of your life. And suddenly that’s not the case anymore. One of you decided that this wasn’t going to happen. And the second person usually can’t do much about it. A relationship is usually over if one person decides it is. And that sucks. It sucks to be abandoned like that. To be told that you aren’t wanted like that anymore. Maybe you aren’t wanted at all.

People need to be wanted. We want to be wanted. We want someone to like us and belong. I did, at least. I belonged somewhere. My future was set, and I was home. Then something changed. I’m still not sure what that was. Even after all this time, I still don’t know why. But I have to accept it. And I have to make a new future. Without him. Without the life I lived for almost 10 years.

I miss the sound of him coming home. The sound of his jacket being hanged in the hallway and the joy in his voice when he called out to see if I was home. I miss his arms around me and his nose in my neck. I miss the way he sniffed me and smiled at me. Home. I miss the way his mouth felt against mine and how close he held me. I could easily tell if he had thought about me that day or not.

I miss the feeling of his freshly shaven head and the smell of the lotion he used. I miss sitting in the passenger seat of our car and the way he grabbed my hand sometimes. I used to love that feeling. Especially if he kissed it. I miss the smell of our tv-room where we used to watch movies. The way the darkness surrounded us, and I got to curl up close to him. How his arm felt around me, and his fingers intertwined with mine. His kisses on my head. His laughter. His soft voice and lips when he woke me up in the morning before he went to work.

I have to miss all of this and more for the rest of my life. Even if I find a new future it won’t be with him. It will never be the same. I have to create new moments and a new home. With different smells, voices and kisses. And I’ve already started that journey.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

The Discussion.

The discussion was loud like it usually was when our two heads collided. We had very different meanings about a lot of things but remained good friends. It felt good to have someone to discuss all kinds of things with, without becoming hostile towards each other.

I can’t really remember what the topic was that exact night, but we were both passionate about getting our opinions through. He was about to leave my apartment. I followed him out into the hallway. We stopped in the staircase. He was on the step above me. I was about to pitch my last argument when he grabbed my neck and pulled me towards him.

Our lips met and the argument faded away.

[smud-nysgjerrig]

The pianist

Her fingers danced across the keys. She closed her eyes and just let it happen. She had played for so long now, that her hands knew the music better than her head. She could feel all of the eyes from the crowd on her. There weren’t too many people, the lounge wasn’t that big. But still, it was packed, and they all were there to see and hear her.

She liked it. She liked being in the center of attention. Her hands stopped and the clapping started. Someone made a whistling sound and she could hear someone cheer in the back. She opened her eyes and looked out at the people. All of their beautiful faces smiling towards her. She smiled back and bowed. As she looked around, she saw one guy watching her. He didn’t clap, but he saw her. His eyes were glued to her and he smiled. She wondered why he didn’t clap or cheer. She stood up and bowed again. Said “thank you” into the mic and went off -stage.

He had lovely eyes. That was almost all she had seen, really. His eyes. How he had looked at her. She sat down in her dressing room and waited. This had been her last set tonight and she wanted to practice some more for the show the next night. She just had to wait until all of the people were gone. She didn’t like to practice with an audience. She usually did it after the lounge was closed at night. The owner let her stay as long as she wanted.

Someone knocked on her door. “Are you in there?” a voice asked. She said yes and the door opened. One of the guys who worked behind the bar came in. “We got all the people out now, so it’s all clear”, he said and smiled. She nodded and he left. She took off her “stage clothes” and got into a more comfortable outfit. She put on her sweat-pants and a t-shirt. Her hair was up in a ponytail and felt tight. She pulled out the hair tie and let her hair down. It fell down her back like a stream of ginger.

She took her notes with her and went back onto the stage. The room was silent. Only one spotlight was on, and it shone on the right side of the stage. It was still bright enough for her though. She didn’t need much light. She sat down on her little stool and put the notes on the piano. After cracking her knuckles, she placed her fingers on the keys once more. The music started flowing out from the piano and into the air. She could almost see it as colors floating in the air.

After a little while, she heard a crack in the back. A door was opened. She stopped and looked up. The guy from earlier came into the lounge. He smiled and sat down at a table close to the stage. “Hey”, she said in a questioning tone. “Hey”, he said. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Play. I wanted to hear you play”, he said. She was baffled by his response but started playing again. She played for a while, tried some new stuff and some old stuff. After she finished, he clapped. She turned and smiled. “Thank you”, she said.

“Are you single?” he asked. She nodded. She had a hard time looking away from him. His eyes and the way he looked at her had her under some kind of spell. She didn’t want to look away either, really. She liked him. He had dark brown hair, blue eyes. He was taller than she was and had broad shoulders. He was dressed casually and looked relaxed. He stood up and got closer to the stage. It wasn’t more than one step up from the floor. She turned around on the stool so that she was facing him.

“I’ve been here the last three nights,” he said. “I love the way your fingers dance across the keys and how effortless you play. How long have you been playing?”, he asked as he got up on stage. He grabbed another stool and sat down in front of her. “I’ve really been playing all my life”, she said. “Only been here for the last couple of years though”. They talked for a while. He seemed very interested in her music career and in her in general. At some point they ended up sitting on the same stool, facing the piano. He wanted her to teach him something. So, she did.

She suddenly felt his arm on her back. He was caressing her lower back, sliding the hand under her t-shirt. “What are you doing?” she said, almost laughing. “Me?”, he said, looking innocent. “Nothing….” His hand went further up and as she turned towards him again, he leaned in and kissed her. She leaned into it and let him pull her closer. His lips felt warm against hers and she could taste something sweet.

He pulled her t-shirt off her and turned her all the way around. One of her legs went over to the other side of the stool so that she could get as close as possible. She opened his shirt while he kissed her on her neck. She loved the feeling of his warmth against her skin and a little moan escaped her lips. His hand came around her front and squeezed one of her boobs gently. She still had her bra on. Her fingers moved over his chest. Followed all of the curves on him. She bent down and kissed his neck and then his chest. She could hear a slight moan coming from him as she did.

She knew she wanted more. She wanted him right here and now. She started opening his pants and he followed her lead. Suddenly another spotlight came on behind them. She looked up, startled. “Having fun?” she heard a voice say behind the light. She knew the voice. It was one of the workers. She laughed and covered up. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else”, she said. They both got up and got dressed. “Wanna go have a drink?” he said.

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[smud-nysgjerrig]

The kitchen

She watched him in the kitchen. He had his back to her. She could see his arms moving. He was baking something. He had asked her before he started if she wanted something sweet. She said yes and he went into the kitchen. She liked watching him. His broad shoulders and back moving a bit to the music that was playing in the room.

Bowls were being moved and different things like flour and such stood on the counter. The mixer was buzzing in the corner. He didn’t seem to even notice it, but she knew he was in control. He was really the one who liked being in the kitchen. He liked making food and baking. Much more than she would ever do.

She was laying on the couch in their living room. The apartment wasn’t too big, so she could easily see into the kitchen. She had just taken a shower so all she had on was an oversized t-shirt. She felt comfy. He came over and kissed her on the forehead. “Do you want anything?” he asked. She smiled and pulled him close. “You”, she said. He kissed her passionately. She didn’t let go so he got on top of her. “I meant a drink or something”, he said laughing. She kissed him again.

She put her leg on top of him, caressing his ass and thigh. Doing this, her t-skirt slid up and revealed her upper-thigh and hip. His hand was on her quickly. His fingers danced along her skin and sliding up underneath her shirt. She giggled. She was a bit ticklish.

He grabbed her boob and squeezed it. Pinched her nipple. Her body responded and she arched her back. A moan escaped her mouth too. “You like that, huh?” he whispered into her ear. She answered by kissing him. Her tongue played with his. She started unzipping his pants, but he stopped her. “I can’t” he laughed. “I have to check my dough”. He kissed her again and got up.

She pouted and looked at him with her big eyes. He smiled and went into the kitchen. That didn’t work anymore. She knew it, but it was still a bit irritating. She stretched on the couch. Her t-shirt slid up and her naked body was exposed. She didn’t care. She could feel her body tingling a bit after the make-out session. She usually responded quickly to him. She liked the way his fingers caressed her and explored her body. Even though they had been together for a while, it felt like the first time almost every time.

She got up and walked into the kitchen. She leaned against the kitchen counter behind him. She watched him. He turned a bit and smiled. “Did you want something?” he asked. “I’m not sure yet”, she said. “Let me know”, he said. She sat on the counter. Thinking about what she could do. She could feel her pussy getting wet just by the thought of it, of him, inside her. Touching her. Kissing her. Fucking her.

Read more: https://nysgjerrig.net/2019/03/08/the-kitchen/

[smud-nysgjerrig]

The auditorium

He sat behind his desk. The students were filing out of the big auditorium. He closed his books and watched them all leave. It had been a good lecture. He had felt confident and the students had asked the right questions. He loved his job, but as any other job, there were off-days. This was not one of them.  

It had also been a good day because two of the cutest girls in his class had been seated in the front row. They were usually somewhere he could see them, but today they were very close to him. He had smiled and engaged them in the story, and they had responded. They were also in the top of his class. He had had many talks with both. Separate and together. They really knew their stuff and they seemed genuinely interested. There were, sadly enough, some people in his class that couldn’t care less.

He shrugged. The last student had left. The door was closed, and silence filled the room. He looked up the rows. Such a big room. He didn’t really think about that when he was teaching. But now, when he was alone, he felt it. There were three doors in this space. One at the top of the rows and one on each side at the bottom. One of the doors on the bottom opened. A girl stepped inside and smiled towards him.

“Hey!” he said, smiling back. It was one of his assistants. He had two. This one had been a part of his team for about two years. They had hit it off right away in the interview. She was smart, loved the subject and was thirsty for more knowledge. He had liked her also because of her edgy style. She didn’t look like someone who would work in a university. She was tall, had long dark hair and was almost covered in tattoos. He had always been drawn to people who looked different. People who knew who they were and wasn’t afraid to show it.

She came over to his desk and sat down on the corner. “I brought you something to eat”, she said. “I didn’t know if you had anything. You seemed stressed this morning”. She put a brown paper bag in front of him. A smell of fresh baked goods hit his nose. “Thanks! This is awesome. I actually did forget my lunch today”, he said and opened the bag. He grabbed a croissant and offered her half. “Wanna share?” he said. She nodded and took the pastry.

They ate and talked about todays lesson. She asked about what he had talked about and how the students had responded. They also talked about what the next lessons was going to be about and the test they were preparing for next week. He suddenly found himself looking at her outfit. She was wearing a black skirt that stopped at her knees. No pantyhose. Converse shoes. Her top was a black t-shirt with a picture of a unicorn on it. The unicorn ate a donut. He smiled. “Was that funny?”, she asked. He looked up at her. He had blanked out for a couple of seconds and hadn’t heard what she had said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that. I was looking at your shirt”, he said, laughing again. “Oh! I love this shirt!”, she said and pulled on it to show the unicorn better. She told him where she got it and the story behind the donut-eating unicorn. They both laughed when the story was over. She smiled. He thought she had a beautiful smile. He had complimented her on it several times. And she always blushed. Which just made the whole thing cuter.

He hadn’t really thought about the fact that he liked this girl. That he actually thought she was cute. They had worked together for so long that that hadn’t really been a thing. They had flirted a bit at a office party, but nothing had happened. He had wanted it to, though. But because he was her boss, sort of, he hadn’t acted on it.

“You know”, she said, interrupting his train of thought. “I kind of thought you were gonna ask me out after that time at that party”, she said. “That’s weird,” he said. “I was actually just thinking about that party”. “So… why didn’t you?” she said, twisting her hands slightly in her lap. “I guess I didn’t want to seem unprofessional” he said. “Yeah, I get that”, she said. Some redness crept up into her face. He knew she wanted to say something more but didn’t know what.

“You should have”, she said. “Would you have said yes?” he asked. She nodded and looked up at him. Her eyes stared straight into his. He felt an urge to kiss her. He leaned forward, hoping she would do the same. She did, and their lips met.

She giggled a bit and pulled away. “About time”, she said. He smiled and got up. She was still sitting on the desk. He got closer to her. He bent over and kissed her neck. His hands went around her back and down. He wanted to feel her. He felt a movement in his pants. His body had responded to her. He wanted her. He kept kissing her, more on the neck and back on the lips. Her arms started to explore him too.

Read more: https://nysgjerrig.net/2019/02/19/the-auditorium/

[smud-nysgjerrig]

The studio

She was laying on the table with her bare leg exposed to her surroundings. Her tattoo artist was hunched over her leg and the machine was buzzing. She liked the sounds and the feeling, but the pain was strong today. It felt like her leg was on fire and she counted the minutes until this was over.

She was looking forward to seeing the design though. Because of the way she was laying she couldn’t see what was going on. She had just seen the design drawn on her before the machine started. She was facing the door. There had been some people coming in and out of the studio, but she was in too much pain to really notice.

She closed her eyes and just focused on her breathing. The buzzing from the machine crept inside her head and filled it up. This was the sound of her hobby. The sound of the ink being pushed into her skin. The sound of a design being made on her body. Something she would enjoy for the rest of her life. She had been doing this for 20 years and didn’t know if she would ever stop. She loved it. The sounds, the pain, the smells.

Suddenly the door opened, and she instinctively opened her eyes. A man walked in. He smiled and said hey to everyone in the room. It wasn’t a big studio and you could see everyone there when you first walked in. He swiped the room and looked back at her. He smiled again and she said hey back. He walked closer and asked if he could take a look. She said yes, of course. They smiled to each other once more and she could feel some redness creeping up into her face.

He walked to the other side of her to see the leg properly. He talked a bit with the tattoo artist. “Looking good”, he said. “Thanks!”, she answered. The smile hadn’t gone. He lingered a bit and she could see his eyes scanning her body. She felt exposed again, but kind of liked it. He was a handsome guy. Tall, broad shoulders, dark brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. She felt his gaze moving up from her leg to her ass, to her chest and then finally to her eyes. He smiled the whole time. He winked at her and turned to the other tattoo artist and started talking to her.

She closed her eyes again. This didn’t happen often. She had been single for a while but wasn’t really looking for anyone. And she rarely got attracted to anyone. But this was definitely an attraction. This was something animal-like. Something primal. She wanted to rip his clothes off there and then and have her way with him. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt like that. It had been so long since anyone made her feel anything, really.

She could hear his voice as he talked to the other artist. They talked about his design. What he was looking for. They obviously knew each other and had talked about this before. The artist asked him to take his t-shirt off. She wanted to start the drawing on him. He did as he was told. She couldn’t resist. She opened her eyes and looked over. Her breathing skipped a couple of beats. His chest was as broad as she had pictured. Just the right amount of body hair. Strong arms. He had some ink already, on his arms and it was obvious that this chest piece was going to bring it all together.

He laid down on the bench behind her. She couldn’t see anything anymore. She could only hear them talking and the smooth sound of the marker going over his skin and drawing something. She wanted to see so badly. But she couldn’t move. She had to lie still. At least this had made her forget about the pain for a couple of minutes. Now it came back in full force though. She could feel something cold going onto her leg and the artists hand drying it off.

“You can take a little break if you want”, the artist said. “Yeah, thanks”, she replied. She got up and stretched her legs. It felt like the skin on her leg was too tight for her muscles underneath. She stretched. And looked over at him. He turned his head and looked right at her. “How does it feel?” he asked. “It hurts like a motherfucker” she said, laughing. He laughed too.

She got back on the bench. The artist told her that they were almost done. She sighed and said “good”. The minutes moved along slowly. She focused on the buzzing and his low voice. She couldn’t really hear what they were talking about, but she could hear his sound. She liked it. She wanted him. She thought about how to approach him after this. Maybe she should just give him her number when they both stood up again. Just be as straight forward as possible. But would she dare with three other people in the room? She didn’t really think so.

The buzzing stopped again, and the coldness returned. It was done. “We are finished”, the artist said. She silently cheered and got up from the bench. She stretched again. She saw the guy sitting with the other artist further back in the studio, still talking. He looked at her. She had a hard time taking her eyes off him. She asked for the bathroom key and went outside. The bathroom was in another part of the building and she had to go through some kind of a hallway. She had a hard time walking. The leg was pumping with every step. She liked it though. This was the best part in the whole tattoo process. This pain. She wanted to feel every second of this.

She opened the door to the bathroom and went inside. Before she could get her pants off though, someone knocked on the door. “Occupied”, she said. “Ehm…it’s me”, the voice said. She recognized it immediately. The guy from the studio. “Let me in”, he said. She reached for the door but stopped with her hand on the handle. What was he doing here? This was weird, she thought. But she also wanted to know why he had come after her, so she opened the door.

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[smud-nysgjerrig]

The desert

He laid down the blanket on the soft sand dunes. She smiled at him and sniffed in the desert sent. She sat down on the blanket and felt the warm summer winds brush her naked shoulder. It sent a shiver through her body. “Are you cold?” he asked. She shook her head and laid down. She could feel the sand through the blanket. It felt soft and warm.

She watched the night sky over them. It was full of stars and she could easily see her favorite constellations. She named them in her head while she could hear him shuffling around beside her. And then he settled down beside her. Offered her something to drink or eat. She didn’t want anything yet. She just wanted to watch the sky and hear his breathing next to her.

He put his arms over his head and asked her if she was thinking about something in particular. She said she was thinking about all of the stars above them. She knew that some of them were lost from the universe even though they could see them. She found that to be very sad but kind of beautiful at the same time.

She moved closer to him and snuggled onto his arm. He turned and kissed her forehead. They had been together for some time now and this was not the first time they had been in the desert together. Their first date was at this very same spot. She had watched the stars that night too. They had talked a lot about everything. Music, family, religion. And then he had leaned over and kissed her.

She knew he was something special about him the first time they spoke. But when he kissed her it all made sense. She felt calm. Warm. Happy. She had felt like she was swept away into his arms, into the desert. The warm sand around them seemed to respond to their embrace and she felt like the desert accepted them as its own. They both felt like home here, for some reason. Neither of them knew why, but they had both said it on the first date. That’s why he had taken her there.

The sand was his home. The dusk were where he felt safest. And when the night came, the stars came, and he felt enlightened. She felt the same way. When he told her about it, she felt like he was talking about her own story. Her own past and hopefully her future.

They had been together ever since. They had returned to this place more than once and each time it felt like coming home. They belong here. They felt like they needed to be here and just breathe in the air. The smell. The sand. She felt his hand on her face, turning it towards him. She smiled and looked into his beautiful brown eyes. He kissed her. Passionately. She turned her body towards him and put one leg over his. His arm went around her, and they became one.

It felt like they were floating. Over the blanket, over the sand. Like the desert was breathing with them and pushed them forward into the darkness. Letting it embrace them both. Letting them know that everything was going to be alright. They were safe. They were together and they belonged somewhere. Here. Among the brown sand.

She could feel his warm lips on hers. His arms around her. She felt his tongue play with hers. A tingling went through her entire body. It lingered a bit, and she could feel her pussy getting wet. She wanted him. Her body wanted his body. She wanted him to take her right here, right now. On the warm sand. She wanted to feel his body on top of hers. His cock inside her. A soft moan escaped her lips. He responded by pulling her even closer. Every inch of his body was touching hers.

His mouth went down her neck and his tongue brushed her collar bone. She moaned again. “I want you”, she whispered. His hand went up inside her t-shirt and her entire body responded when his fingertips touched her bare skin.

Once again it felt like they were swept away together. Like the desert wanted them too. She could feel the night sky and stars watching them this time. She opened her eyes and saw the stars shining down on them. She stretched out her arm and touched them.  

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[smud-nysgjerrig]

The suit

She opened the glass door. The cubicles was all she could see. Such a big room with more cubicles than she could, or would, count. She knew all of the faces behind the small walls. She had seen them every day for the last three years. And she liked them all. They were all great people. So many different faces, brains and voices.

She liked one more than the others though. One in particular. She saw this one every day too. But she had never dared to say anything more than the usual stuff to him. They’d only talked about work so far. Except on one occasion. The last office Christmas party. They had talked a lot then. Shared a drink or two. Flirted. At least she had. And she thought it was mutual. It felt like he liked her too. But he had never said or done anything to clarify it.

Her eyes searched around the room. He wasn’t at his desk. She had already checked there. His desk was the first place her eyes went when she entered the office space. Maybe he was in the copy room or the break room. Who knew. She shrugged and went to her desk. She had stuff to do even though she did want to say hey to him first. She usually did.

What she hadn’t had yet though, was her coffee. She grabbed her mug from her desk and went to the break room. The first thing she saw when she entered the room was a dark blue suit. He was standing with his back to her, but she knew that it was him. Short, blondish hair and broad shoulders. She went over to the coffee machine without saying anything. She turned a bit and smiled. He did the same. “Good morning”, he said. She replied and got her coffee.

She wanted to say something else. Something cute. Something witty. But she froze. Didn’t know what to say. She could feel a slight redness creeping up onto her face and she turned away. “Have a good day”, she said, walking out of the room. She didn’t even give him a chance to reply. She got back to her desk and sat down. So stupid. It shouldn’t be this hard. He was just another co-worker. They had known each other for years. Not a big deal at all. But still, it was.

The day went on and lunchtime approach quickly. The spaces around her became empty. People left in groups and went either outside or to the break room. She looked up over her little wall and couldn’t see many people. Just a couple left. Her eyes drifted towards his desk. He was still there. She could only see the top of his head. This was her chance. Not many people around and she could ask him to lunch with her. She stood up and walked towards his cubicle. Her stomach was turning, but she was determined.

He looked up as she approached and smiled. “Hey”, she said and sat on the corner of his desk. “Hey! You disappeared so quickly this morning”, he said. “Yeah, sorry. Needed to get started.” They talked a bit about work and such. She smiled, flirted, felt good. She even started to feel something more. A slight tingling in her body. She felt like she wanted him. She wanted to do something. Something dangerous, something unexpected. In a split second she made a decision, leaned over and kissed him. A quick kiss, but enough to leave him silent and shocked.

“What was that for?” he asked and smiled. “I just wanted to”, she answered, blushing hard now. He stood up, grabbed her neck and kissed her again. Harder this time. His tongue hit hers and she could taste the coffee on him. His other arm went around her and pulled her towards him. She could feel the tingling in her body increase and she wanted more. She pushed him away and got down from the desk. All the way down on her knees.

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