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Recreated Thoughts… – From my Old Clié Journals

Well shit, I had a really long, drawn out process of thought on sex and sensuality here and when my Clie up an dies on me. Now I have to try to recreate some of my thoughts on what I had here before.

I know it was all based around looking at women and how I felt about that. You have personally distorted both my sense of perception and also my own self esteem. I think your compliments are finally getting to me. Your compliments and all the sex.

I know now that I feel sexy, I feel sensual. I feel like someone worth seeing in a senual way, someone that people would look at with a hungry eye. That’s not exactly right, that’s not exacly what I’m trying to say, I think I’m trying to hard. Let me try to start again.

You make me feel sexy, you say I have “a look” when we’re having sex, I wonder if that look is present at all times. I wonder if other people can see that look, that look that tells them I am sexy and good at what I do. I wonder if that look is strong enough to exude a sexniness that may or may not be physically present. I feel that “sexy” is a combination of things, do other people see me as sexy? I feel like they can see it, I have a calm demeanor with bright cool eyes. Can other people see what is behind those eyes?

And if so, do they want what I have. More importantly would they benefit from what I have to offer?

It is these thoughts, these questions, that led me to my next series of thoughts and observations.

As I sat in the airport for five hours, I began to notice that I was looking at women differently. I began to realize that I was evaluating women differently. I have never been a huge subscriber to the idea of “media-beauty” but I can’t say I wasn’t unaffected byt those ideas. But as I sat in the airport I began to see more than just that, I began to see women that were sexy on thier own, not in comparison to other women or icons. I began to evaluate each woman independantly. It was throughthis vision that I began to think of how I could help those in need of sexual release, of sensual caress. I began to imagine these women – the ones I found attractive – in the throes of passion. What did their faces look like when they orgasm? what did their legs look like bent up and back? How would they most like to be fucked? The thoughts when on and on, when I saw a women I found attractive with my new perception, I would look to see if I saw a loss or hunger in their eyes or posture, I would look at them and see if I could see a need, and if so, what they looked like getting that which they needed. It wasn’t until I saw one that I started to imagine myself as the one to give them what I needed. It’s not that I didn’t imagine myself being the one to give them what they longed for, but I couldn’t actually create an image.

She was waiting for a flight to Omaha. For some reason she did not wait in the actual waiting area, she sat on a wall across the hall from the gate area. She sat all alone, bored and lonely. A very sad site she was. She definitely looked like she needed something, and quite honestly she looked like she needed a good fuck. Maybe she was going home to someone who would fuck her brains out, but she almost looked to sad for that. I don’t pretend to have any idea what her situation was. I just know I placed myself in the waiting area in such a way that I could keep an eye on her. The scary part was I think I began to notice her keeping an eye on me (this was not in the old text as this all went on after I fiished writing). Every now and then one of us would move to anew place in the waiting gate area, each time a little closer, it was obvious that if there was any form of recognition of supply and demand there, we didn’t know what to do about it. Her flight was canceled ad rescheduled. She did get very agitated and went to the pay phones I wished I could have offered her my phone, it still had batery at that time.

I’m still not open enough with myslef or my sexuality to even think I could talk to someone randomly in an airport with any results in mind, let alone even offer any kind of sexual convergenct to them. But I could imagine myself doing it for her. You have to remember, though, I am very shy.

Sometimes I think about these new thoughts and I scare myself. I’ve never been remotely this confident with my sexuality. I mean I’ve never really doubted myself too much, I know that I’m handsome, and that I have a presnetable body and a more than acceptable cock. But at the same time, I have never seen myself as someone that random women would just want to fuck. Every now an then, like that day at the airport, I felt that way, I almost felt confident, not just with that one woman going to Omaha, but all the women that walked by. I felt like that “look” that you told me about was just plastered to my face. I felt like evey woman walking by could see that I could fuck them and fuck them well. Especially the ones that were in need of sex. I felt, that morning, that I could be a Gigolo, that I had exactly what women wanted and needed, that I my cock, and what I did with it, was ultimately desireable. I haven’t necesarrily felt that way since, at least not to that degree, but I can still remember how I felt.

Thank you for that feeling, be afraid, you may be creating a monster.

this is not nearly as good as the first time, especially since it’s not written in the same mood as the first. I was in a very distinct mood the first time I wrote this so it’s just not as good.

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