Lust, trust and my increasingly shrinking bust

For so long now I have thought, considered, pondered, analysed, re-evaluated and generally driven my poor brain cells nuts with activity.  As with everything I do, I seem to have done it to the nth degree.  As much as it is great to be intelligent, sometimes I wish I could be really stupid so that I wouldn’t have to think and feel.  And I wouldn’t care if I got arrested for throwing something heavy at people who annoy me.  But sadly I know how to behave – except in the bedroom.

Celibacy was great for me.  I learnt a lot, healed from the pain of the past, read.  It was the right thing at that time.  the flipside was I was a little stressed and threw my pent-up frustrations into thinking.  I also realised that I have a very active brain, and that sex and alcohol are ways for me to subdue it a bit.  And I need to go back to studying, to give my excitable brain something worthwhile to focus on.  Because Im certainly not getting that in my job.....

 Anyway, back to the point.  I'm thinking increase the lust, worry less about the trust, and celebrate my ever-shrinking bust. 

For me to fall in lust, I need to be able to trust.  I want to know that we are intimate with one another enough that he will know exactly what I want – in the bedroom.  Outside, not so fussed.  But rather than worry about how this is construed or perceived, I’m going with, what the hell.  Im going to enjoy feeling lusty, enjoy acting upon my impulses, and not give 2 hairy twats whether it will ‘go somewhere’.  I don’t know where anything can go.  But I do know where I plan to go.  To Europe, to visit my friends.  To bed with a sexy beautiful man for one night of amazing pleasure – preferably this side of Christmas.  I miss good sex – and I plan to have it again.  The last time was well over a year ago.  As I get more slender, I realise that guys who notice me are generally better, sexier and more decent upstanding individuals.  Yet I also know that my gut instinct about someone is usually right – the joys of being empathic (yet another mindfuck).  Its not about being shallow or deceitful, its about enjoying being my age and free.  I am not a Madonna and I am not a whore.  I am a human - real, rounded,  I am who and how I am and I bloody well plan to enjoy it.  Less thinking, less feeling, more playing. Once it gets to a point of exclusivity then great, if not then hopefully will have made a mate (or two).  I know Im not everyone's cup of Darjeeling - but I also know I am rather fabulous, so I will not let dating ruin my confidence.  And there IS nothing wrong with casual sex - as long as neither party gets hurt, injured, or STDs.  I would prefer something a little deeper, but why should I deny myself that which I so desire for the sake of some 'morals' I think I should ascribe to?