Non-Sexy Time

Perhaps you're wondering why meaningful updates have gone out the window. Perhaps you're sitting there thinking to yourself, "Jeez Louise, if I had the exciting life that Lexi seems to have, I'd have so many blog posts to make that I'd have to limit myself to three or four a day, just so I'd have the time to fit in some of that excitement. What the hell is wrong with that girl? She should be posting more."

Perhaps not.

Either way, things wax and wane for me as for everyone else, and occasionally there are periods where either nothing is happening worth reporting, or nothing is happening at all, or too much is happening, or too much not worth reporting is happening to give me time to report anything that was worth reporting, or tragical historical pastoral comical. Speak the speech, I pray you, like a dead ox that hath lain too long i' the sun.

Wait, hang on a minute. Get out of here, you Shakespearian thespians! Go on, scat! You're not even saying the lines right!

Okay, there we go. Anyway, at the moment I am hard up for time and for things to talk about, not necessarily in that order. The time can be explained by work, and the things to talk about can be explained in a slightly longer manner, and it's gotten to the point where it needs to be explained because otherwise it just seems like I'm holding back vital information when really I'm not.

I am not getting my regular sex. Or even much irregular. This is due to a condition which can be most accurately described as paternal inability and fraternal unavailability. Accurate, but not helpful. I don't really want to talk about it overly much, but in fairness I must.

My dad had a health issue last month, the culmination of a number of things, which has left him sadly unable to do much by way of erection. We're hopeful that, with treatment and practice, this situation will improve, but at the moment he's out of action, and unfortunately medication is not an option. It's a circulatory thing. Don't ask me; I'm not a doctor. Anyway, just to prove to all the doubters out there, I love him just as much if not more, and should the horrible possibility happen and he never be able to regain his vigor, I wouldn't stop loving him. We have tender moments, and in the spirit of recuperation both Mom and I have engaged in spirited attempts at revivification of the flaccid, but thus far while he's been able to achieve momentary stiffness, of the half-staff nature, nothing which could be maintained. It seems like it's getting better though.

My family's bond doesn't depend on sex, but sex strengthens it I think, so we've been a bit testy at times. Dad feels like he's letting me down, which I try to tell him he's not, but to tell the honest truth (and why not) I really, really miss having him inside me, to the point where I do feel a bit let down, even if I don't blame him for it. I'm not perfect.

This is not me being sob-y at all either; he recovered from his medical complications, and at the moment there's no reason to believe that he won't recover his former mojo. He's not in danger. We're happy to have him here. And it does mean that I've been getting a lot more from him in an odd way; it used to be that once a day would be the limit, but now that it's mostly about me (and I feel selfish about that) I've been getting shorter encounters at an increased rate. I spend a bit of time doing my best to liven him up, but I think the lack of ability is really driving him as nuts as it's driving me; it's hard to go from once a day to nothing at all, and my father is a man who enjoys sex a lot.

So I've been getting plenty of orgasms. Dad is really getting back into eating me out, something which we almost never bothered with much before; he lasts so long typically that I just want to spend as much time as possible being penetrated, without worrying that I won't get mine. I always get mine. Now, he's falling back in love with my taste and smell, or so he says. There have been a few days, lucky days when no one had to be anywhere (something that seems not to happen all that often these days) when Mom would work on his cock while he ate me out until I was gasping for air.

But despite having plenty of orgasms and plenty of what could definitely be called sex, I miss penetration. I'm just a gal who needs to be filled with a cock, often. I think the last time I had a cock was when I visited Sveta in college. Oh lord, and don't get me started on Sveta; Dad is really worried that she'll freak out about this, even though she knows and hasn't freaked out yet. I don't know why she would. But I think Dad's just projecting his anxiety or something.

Anyway, as horrible and selfish as it is of me, I need penetration. I can get by with just orgasms, but at a certain point my brain begins to deteriorate. So right now I'm engaged in an experiment to see if I can deal with months of no penetration. I can do it for anal, and have, but none at all will be tough.

I'm really not telling you all any of this for sympathy purposes; it just has gotten to the point where I really needed to clear up the situation so I'd stop hinting obliquely at it. Dad is fine, I'm fine (if a bit cock-crazier than usual), and I am confident that things will return to, if not normal, at least close enough to pass muster without worrying. These things happen. I know I'm not the only one, and I know people who suffer from various forms of impotence (or whatever the correct term is; like I said, not a doctor) who manage to deal with it. It's life. Just thought you should know.

While I'm giving status updates, to save from having to make another filler post of status:

Mike is working at some menial job he hates and can't get time off from, but it's better than nothing. Last I heard, he was trying to nail a waitress. I had hoped to see him over Easter because that was my closest hope for someone with a cock who knows how to use it, but I'm not hoping much because it doesn't seem likely.

Sveta, on the other hand, will doubtless be here for some kind of spring break, Easter or not. I told her, as a joke, that she should bring Ernst and they could both stay at my house. She laughed. To tell the truth, I'd rather she didn't; despite needing a hot beef injection, I'd rather have some alone time with her. Talking would be nice, as would other things we do when alone.

Sheri is being an idiot. I'm currently in a drawn-out cold war with her. I love her, but sometimes she drives me nuts. I won't go into it; too much drama already in this post. The one positive is that makeup sex is always nice.

Mari is really hoping that more states will pass gay marriage bills, as should we all, but she has a more immediate reason for hoping. She refuses to take sides in the cold war. Thus, I hate her too. No, only kidding. I just treat her like Switzerland and try to get her to give me gold.

The blog is coming up on the anniversary again, and I have something a little exciting planned, nothing major. The banner appears to be coming down 2:1 in favor of the skinnier banner; keep voting, although while I probably shouldn't tell you this I've already made up my mind, unless there's a huge groundswell for one option or the other.

I'm still not doing Formspring, mostly because they won't let you ask the right questions. But I still love questions, and you can always either comment (even off-topic; I'm not a topic-Nazi) or email me at lexinaughtygirly[AT]gmail.com if you've got one. Or if you've got quizzes. Or memes in general. I promise nothing, but I love fodder.

And lastly, I'm coming up on crazy time again at work, so if posts become slightly more scarce, I'm not throwing in the towel, I've just got a show to do. With partial nudity. Hooray!