no shirt on

“Do you think Desire is going into the kitchen with no shirt on because of me?” I asked.

Two weeks ago I texted something to Desire about how their hugs are like none other.  The next day my spouse reported that Desire has been in the kitchen with no shirt on in the early morning, which my spouse had never seen before.

“Maybe,” my spouse said.  “It’s really early, when you would be in the kitchen.  They can hear someone’s there, but not who it is.”

I puzzled at Desire’s behavior.  Why would they do that?  And is it fair?  Probably if I was in the kitchen with no shirt on, that would not go over well.  These tits could cause a riot, or at least the dropping of a dish.


I fantasized that Desire’s motivation was wishing me to see them with no shirt on, as a form of intimacy.  And they would ask to hug me like that, and I would learn about their body in a new way.

I’ve never had an orgasm from someone hugging me, but I would like to try.  Being closer to their body would feel sweet as death, sweet as cherry icing, sweeter than anything.

There’s a specific format to their hugging style.  The beginning part of the hug feels like getting acquainted.  We settle in and feel our togetherness.  Then they move their arms on my back, and something shifts emotionally–not sure what’s happening, really.  They might make a small sound, and I might too.

Then there’s the third part of the hug, which feels like it’s sealing something in place.  Some kind of energy exchange–reminds me of reiki, but do I want this person doing reiki on me?  Not sure my spirit-body should be their business.

Is it all them, making this hug style happen?  My soul rises to the occasion, but they seem to be controlling the whole format.

The result is my body is flooded with oxytocin, and I feel deeply safe.  Afterward I want them to fuck me for about three days.  Then I get disgusted with how they actually don’t care about me, rue that I ever touched them, and stew about their faults.  It’s not my favorite cycle, but it’s familiar.


The hug is a ten second ritual, if I’m lucky.  Usually I say “thank you” at the end or right after–they thank me too.

My entire body is swept up into love.  But for them, it’s nothing–it’s actually tiring.  I’m ready to hand my body over to them and cum for them as many times as they’ll allow me to.  But they just move on with their day, watch a show, smoke a lot of weed, and life is unchanged.  For me, life is changed.

I want my life changed–I’m here to learn.  What are they here for?  They think they’ve seen everything.  Oh, to be beautiful, brilliant, 29 years old, and uncuriously unsurpriseable.

It’s heartbreaking to endure this cycle, and I’ve decided not to share any touch with them then changed my mind countless times.  I’ve told my spouse, “This person is a distraction.  They are not compatible with my life goals.”

Desire is a boss to defeat at the end of a video game level, not a kind, collaborative partner to respectfully adventure with.  With no shirt on, it would be even worse.


Probably I don’t need to explain my fantasy of Desire fucking me in the kitchen, how a hug turns growling and my fingers dig into their back, and they respond, and I respond, until my mouth is on their clavicle, our private places are humming, and our bodies are sexually aligning in a kitchen supernatural way.  Woe betide the housemate who comes downstairs for early coffee.

Mmm, I can’t help myself but think of that.  But they will never love me, and I can’t be close to someone I can’t argue with.

Still my mind chews and chews on the puzzle–if I changed this factor, what if it could be ok?  What if we could relate happily, if I didn’t need such and such, or we behaved such and such?

It’s hopeless.  There’s no tetris-ing a relationship together.  It’s funny how I adored them and adore them.  And they’re mostly indifferent, but not indifferent enough to leave me the fuck alone.

no shirt on

It’s been a few days, and I still never saw them with no shirt on.  I’m guessing the partial nudity was coincidental and not for me.

I wish they cared.  Maybe in a few years, they will be a slightly different person, and so will I.  Maybe those future people could be close, in a way that the current people can’t manage.

Last night I pulled a card about the situation–it was The Tower.  Wow, I’m not surprised.  Things are changing–I’m happy to level the relationship to dust.  Let it burn!

questions for discussion
  1.  Do you know your own motivations, for why you do what you do?  Do you think Desire knows their motivations for going into the kitchen with no shirt on?
  2. Who do you imagine fucking you in the kitchen?
  3. How do you tell whether someone’s a distraction or central?  Are there certain signs that help you differentiate?
  4. Are Desire’s hugs calculated to kindle love, even though they know they won’t love back?  If so, are they evil?
  5. When your body and your mind want two different things, who wins?
  6. Could I force myself not to want what I actually want?
  7. Where in the world did they learn to hug like that?

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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