Some days

Some days I feel like I want to hurt myself. I never do but I can clearly picture myself hitting my head against the wall so hard I bleed. I don't know why I get these images. I know it's usually out of frustration and anger but why would my brain decide that pain and injury are the best way to solve the problem?

Today is one of those days. And it's not really a bad day either but I've had a weird (non) argument with the bf. I need cheering up. I wish I had a distraction. Maybe my brain thinks pain is a good distraction.
There's also a fascination with injury and healing the injury. It's like there's a process that is significant and symbolic. I love watching things heal. It's this quantification of time in some way. I can track time by watching something heal. Normally I'm terrible with time. It's a concept that is a little foreign to me. I don't understand it really. But healing I understand. I can see the progress of it.

When I was with Rob, one of the best parts was watching the marks he left on me heal. The hickeys he left on my neck or the minor bruise I found on my arm would slowly, over a week or more, fade. What is the symbolism there? There's part of me that wishes the injury would leave a permanent scar at times. I wish I could have a permanent memory of an event. I suppose that's often why people get tattoos. I would want mine to be invisible or indistinguishable to others, something that only I can understand and recognize. But what's the symbolism behind wanting to watch something heal? I'm always a little sad when it heals mind you. I wish I could watch the progress forever.

Tattoos are something that fascinate me but only superficially. I've always been on the sidelines. If I got a tattoo it would have to be something in plain sight that no one would know is a tattoo. I was tempted to get extra freckles tattooed, something that I could see but that nobody else would know they were there. Like freckles in a constellation or in formation. But the healing factor is missing. It would be something that doesn't really morph or change. I can't track time with a tattoo and that's the element that fascinates me the most.
A cut would work. It leaves a scar, it heals and it changes until it leaves a permanent mark. But I'm not one to cut myself. Never have. I think I tried it as a kid once.

I'm weird. I know.
Would you make an incision on a girl if she asked you to, if you knew the reasoning behind it? It would be on a finger, a thigh or an arm... maybe an ankle or the foot... someplace I can see, possibly in plain sight for others even... I like the idea that people can see it and ask about it, it would be a reminder of that day, that event. Then I'd lie and tell them another story. Or I'd say I don't remember how I got it.

Fucking Neighbour Yet Again.

So some of you may remember my stalker neighbour. He was posting on fb narrowing his audience to just me and sending me what I now call private posts.

This meant that his posts were very specific and only I could see them but they still seem public. Sneaky and a little creepy because you're never actually sure they're for you. The only two giveaways are that: they appear at the top of your feed, as if you've been tagged, but you haven't; and that there's a gear symbol instead of the little people symbol next to the post. So It's a restricted audience but you can't possibly know who it's restricted to.

The function itself: to be able to send someone a post that only they can see is kind of cool... but used this way is very confusing and there's no way to prove it really.

My first tactic was to ignore the private posts. The second tactic was to ignore all his posts. If he continued I would either tell his girlfriend or call him out on it.

I called him out on it. After weeks of him not sending me any more posts I rode past him on my bicycle as he was getting into his car in front of our building. I courteously said hello and he said hi back. It was not the first interaction between us, but during the last one his girlfriend was there too.

Next thing I know, there's a private post for me saying (loosely translated) "give a person a compliment and they give you the cold shoulder". The next one said "kisses".

I decided to write him a message on fb messenger. I told him that his habit of flirting on fb via private posts was inappropriate and making me feel uncomfortable. I mentioned that I wouldn't want to get the wrong idea that he was hitting on me because I'm a friend of his gf and I figured she'd be really upset if she found out her boyfriend was behaving like that.

The letter went on a bit but that's the basic idea.

After I sent it he wrote back "private posts? sorry, I think you're mistaken."
I said "oh ok, I must be wrong then I was seeing certain specific posts that never got any public reactions, but I must be wrong then."
When I said that he said "people avoid me, I don't get many reactions on my posts but now I'm curious."
I then replied "Never mind I must be mistaken"

He's sorta gaslighting me! After our brief conversation I wasn't sure about myself and what I thought he'd been doing. My friend told me not to second guess myself so going back through his feed I'm now certain (I took screenshots of some of them), also he took the "kisses" post down, further proving my suspicion.
Now, the fact that he would deny it and then try to instigate more reactions/explanations from me with "now I'm curious" makes me so angry.  I mean buddy give it the fuck up. His best bet would have been to play dead, ignore my email and just cease and desist.

Another friend suggested I tag his girlfriend in his private posts to me... but I tested that out with a friend and it doesn't work. The person tagged can't see the tag or the post.

I'm very very tempted to send him a private post saying "playing with fire" or something similar or sending him a private post tagging his girlfriend just to scare him, even though I know she can't see it.

I'm a little afraid of making him angry. I'm afraid he'll stalk me harder looking to dig up dirt on me and I risk getting exposed on here. So I'll likely not do anything.

I am still contemplating telling his girlfriend. I had originally thought I'd give him this last chance.... but now I'm not so sure.

I'm back... I tried a pregnancy test!

Let's start with the strange stuff. last week I tried my first ever pregnancy test. I was five or six days late on my period. A couple weeks before the bf and I had fairly intense sexcapades, he always pulls out but there's always a chance.

It was weird, I wasn't expecting one result or another. Maybe I'm still processing. Maybe I'll burst into tears at some point. But I was fairly indifferent about the whole thing.
After day 4 of being late and complaining to the bf that I couldn't fit into last year's jeans I joked saying, maybe I'm pregnant and we laughed.

Is indifference even possible for me around this topic?

Anyhow end result: I wasn't pregnant.
 
I was however over a week late and well, that's when other thoughts of running out of eggs crosses my mind and I feel slightly depressed about it. Possibly more about the age than not having kids tho.... or maybe it's just me processing. Everything went back to normal eventually. 

I haven't been able to post regularly recently because I Apple is boycotting Google or vice versa as far as I can see it. They removed the Blogger app from the Apple store and the version I had on my phone obviously stopped working. So I'm forced to use my computer. I might be able to find another solution but for now my posts will likely be slower to come. 

Rob
In other news. I got around to altering that Beastie Boys shirt Rob sent me in his care package with the ceramic bowls ages ago. Which means I can wear it on a regular basis. I was a little scared to work on it, I didn't want to ruin it. But I'm happy with how it turned out. It was a colour that was too similar to my skin tone so I dyed it grey and then I cut the sleeves off and the neck off to make a tank top and put brass eyelets up the sides to make it a lace up. It looks good. I love it and wear it often. It is obviously a constant reminder of Rob. I wouldn't take it off if I had a choice.

There's a ton of stuff going on in terms of my inheritance and I have to go back to North America soon to sort some things out so I've been very busy getting things ready with that. I asked Rob if he wanted to come with me. I knew it wouldn't be possible but it was fun to fantasize about. I have a week right at the beginning where I will be alone without anyone to hang out with. So I thought I'd ask him if he'd join me. He said yes... but obviously he can't. We joked about it for a day, I even looked up flights for him, all in good fun.... I wish... I totally wish. That would be so cool.

Co-W
Things with Co-W have been pretty usual. There was one minor slip on my behalf the other day. He had told me something and I contradicted him, and when I realized I was wrong I apologized. He was so smug about it he put his head in front of my face, with his ear next to my mouth and said, "say that again" when I apologized again, he came closer to my face with his ear and said "what was that?" so I licked his earlobe. 

It wasn't a decision. It was instinct. After it happened I just sat there stunned at myself thinking what was wrong with me. 

I couldn't concentrate for the rest of the afternoon and kept making stupid mistakes.

Not dead

I'm still here. I will be back soon with actual posts. So hi.... 

Changes

Every time I lose a piece of my family I feel less tethered to this planet, like a helium balloon tied down with a lot of strings that someone keeps cutting. 

I feel like I'm going to fly high into the atmosphere and off into the nothingness of space. I feel like I'm disappearing. 

My uncle passed away last weekend. Mother's Day to be specific. He was my mother's brother and died of the same (non-smoker's) lung cancer she had. My mother passed away 12 years ago. She died young. So did my uncle. My grandmother passed just three years ago. She was 94. All on the same side of my family. That side of the family is gone now. There's nothing left. Sure I have my grandmother's brothers and sisters. But close relatives are gone. 

I wasn't close to my uncle, but I'm still sad. The whole thing brings up a lot of issues and guilt but especially memories of my mother's death. 

It will also bring change. Huge change I think. There's an inheritance. In my great aunt's words I'll be "set for life". It feels like something so foreign to me I can't quite comprehend it. Since I was a kid I've always struggled for money. 

But this massive change also brings a lot of questions. What do I want? What do I want to do with my life? If I wanted a kid the bf wouldn't have the 'financial' card to play anymore. He always said that we didn't have enough financial stability for kids. 

Do I want to travel for a while? 

Do I want to concentrate on my art career? 

Should I take over the art school when my boss retires in two years? 

Should I buy a house?

WHERE do I want to live?

The one sure thing I think I've decided is that I'll be cutting down or eliminating my English teaching. It's the only thing I know I really want. That, and doing something big for my mom. For years I've wanted to put together a book of her art and I'd like to finalize it. 

Creepy neighbour update... I should number these.

Creepy is definitely the term I'd use, yet again, to describe my neihgbour's behaviour. I always had that sliver of doubt that the Facebook messages weren't just for me. Now I'm 100% sure they are. 

He started again. This time he's being more obvious about it. It had stopped. I hadn't heard from him in ages until I stupidly sent him a message asking if he'd heard the same motor sound on the property that I was hearing at night. I knew his gf was at work so I messaged him on fb about it instead. Stupid move on my part. I should have just waited and asked her about it. The motor ended up being a water pump that activated during recent rain storms. 

The past week he's been sending me private posts. Not messages. Posts, where the audience is just me. The first was a (bad and) sexist joke. There have been numerous messages in English. There was a video about ejaculation (from a Woody Allen movie). Today two posts: one saying how good my jeans looked on me. I was leaving the building, he was in his car parked out front so he saw me leave. Then he posted a song with the title (translated) 'If you Make Love the Way you Walk'. Lyrics like "I can't touch you, I can't taste you, I can't eat you....you're with him..." Bizarre song. 

I'd have half a brain to screenshot his posts and send them to his gf. 

I'm tempted to send him a private post myself telling him to bug off but I don't know if that will just fuel his attention. I've never, ever acknowledged his private posts. 

I just like her so much I feel like a horrible friend not telling her that her long term bf... The first guy she went to live with... is a fucking dick. Ugh. Shoot me.

Who is dumb enough to go to such lengths for someone who clearly isn't interested and who is a friend of your gf? I don't get it.

Update on Wrist and Physio Hottie

So the final update on my wrist is that I don't need surgery. I will be continuing physio, although not with my current therapist. I managed to get put into the healthcare system and will be doing physio at the hospital... As soon as they call me. It will be a couple of weeks. 

During our last physio session the boy was distracted and somewhat distant. I finally found out what was going on. He broke up with his gf of 8 years the week he met me for my first sessions. I'm guessing he was/is an emotional wreck. Anyhow his interest in me dissipated or was transferred to whatever else, so our last session was as tame and boring as a bowl of steamed white rice. 

Since his interest in me has gone, mine in him has miraculously gone too. It's not uncommon for me to be attracted simply because there is attraction. Once that's gone my interest just dwindles. He was cute though. 

Anyhow my wrist is still the same. I can use it sparingly, with very careful and controlled movements. Any tiny distraction can leave me clutching my wrist in pain: turning the key too fast in the lock, pulling the car door shut too quickly etc... 

The specialist told me it would take a year. 

The doctor in rehabilitative medicine told me to start with 15 sessions of physio and added "which surely won't solve the problem entirely". 

It's going to be slow.

Spring Warrior

My inner warrior came out of her hiding place just in time to play. 

*Click thru to see more*

I stumbled upon this quote and found it fabulously appropriate for myself. I thought it was perfect for a picture I took yesterday. Plus I haven't posted pictures in ages. I've hidden another pic on the page somewhere. There are a total of three including the one you see here. It's spring!

Physio hottie

I went in for physio again today. God that guy is hot. Today he asked me if I had a younger sister. When I asked why, he said that he likes blond haired blue eyed girls. He also admitted that he's single. 

While I'm a little disappointed that he asked if I had a younger sister (made me feel kinda old lol... He's 28... 10 years younger than me), I'm guessing that it was a slightly unfortunate excuse to flirt. There's this uncomfortable silence when we do the physio if we're not talking. We're both too shy to really talk much so that doesn't help either.

But I now understand why people get pulled into spending money on prostitutes or masseuses. I'm totally tempted to get massages from this guy.

In fact I almost wonder if he uses his good looks and flirting to gain customers... I mean purposely. He hinted right off the bat that he has a private practice as well (I've been seeing him at a centre he works for). He also sent me a link to a hand strengthening tool on Amazon through Whatsapp so he has my phone number and vice versa.  

I need an excuse to not use him anymore. If I can get the healthcare system to cover my physio I'd have to change therapist. At the moment I'd feel bad switching without a good reason. He's good at what he does and I'm guessing he can use the money. 

Visions of massage therapist porn videos run through my head, I get myself off thinking about it. 

Bad, very bad. 

Physiotherapist

I was told to do physio for my wrist. Lucky for me the physiotherapist is this young and very handsom guy of 28. Even though he's 10 years younger than me I can't help thinking he occasionally flirts with me. It's hard to tell though. He's extremely quiet and rather shy. 

I've had a hard time relating anything sexual to my physiotherapy apart from him acting as eye candy because the therapy has me in tears almost every session. 

The first day I went in he said that he thought we could get through the pain and regain movement without surgery. On day three an intern came in and took a look at my file and we were all dubious about how I should proceed. They both suggested I go to a specialist at the hand surgery clinic in another city.

Today he started a phrase with "I thought of you last night..." And me, slightly surprised said "Oh, really?" I was a little disappointed when he said that he thought I should avoid sugery at all costs. I was half expecting him to just leave me hanging.... Leave me wondering what he'd been thinking about me... at night.

He also mentioned reading some stuff about my country of origin. It was mildly flattering. Sometimes I'll catch him stealing peeks at me while he thinks I'm not looking. We both keep our heads down while he flexes my wrist but still I catch glimpses out of the corner of my eye. 

As for my wrist I'm not sure how I'm doing. It's very hard to gage. I have some bad days and some good ones. After physio everything hurts and swells. But then I have more range of movement in my wrist. The morning I'm stiff as hell and everything is in agony, not to mention the swelling pulsing and aching at night. I was up at 4:30 am today from the pain. 

I'm reserving the possibility of getting myself off to thoughts of him taking me on the massage table. It's a fantasy that I'll make use of at some point I'm sure. 

Health Rambling Again. Apologies.

I had a mild panic attack yesterday. I'm guessing it was brought on by the fact that a woman came to take an art course at the school where I teach and she asked about my brace. Turns out she had fallen twice and was operated on, her hands and elbows. All sorts of damage. When I asked her about her hand injuries she basically described what I have, or may have (I go to see the doctor tomorrow). 

The ligaments in her hands were hyperextended. 

I know I have a torn ligament and often with these injuries hyperextended ligaments is the most common damage. She could barely hold the tools we use and her right hand had a bad shake. 

I'm terrified. There is a high level of detail I do in my work, with all of the art I do. I can't fathom losing the dexterity in my right hand. 

I am frustrated with the system here because if I want to use the healthcare system I need to wait over a month for an appointment with a specialist. The laws are that if it's 'urgent' they are supposed to guarantee an appointment within 7 days... But they can't keep up with the demand. So I have to pay for a specialist, which leaves me trying to find one that is good and available relatively soon. Plus it's expensive. 

Scared

I finally got my MRI done. I got the results and things aren't looking great. Oddly, I've got what I had initially diagnosed myself with. When I first heard the sounds my wrist was making I thought I had something called a TFCC injury. It involves damaged ligaments and cartilage of the wrist. 

When I got the second set of x-rays they found a pit on my pisiform bone and so I though that it was a fracture. 

After the MRI, it turns out that I was right. But I almost wish it were a fracture. This type of injury is not easy to fix and it likely needs surgery. 

I'm trying to stay positive. This kind of surgery is done with little incisions and cameras. It's not hugely invasive. But I don't think you can regain 100% of the hand strength. From what I have now it feels like an impossible jump. 

This sucks 

Narcissism

Today I had a lesson with a student who has been coming for years now. He's a psychoanalyst. He'll be teaching sex ed to a group of middle school students in the next month. Here, where I live, they don't have sex ed as part of the program. This is a one-off thing that he got called to do. The parents of these students actually had to request it. On a side note, I find this entirely ridiculous. It should be part of the program. 

This morning we started talking about selfies and yes, it's all related, let me explain. 

So, in his opinion, selfies are something we do because we see ourselves seeing ourselves. It's not just a simple factor of seeing a picture of ourselves to try to understand how someone sees us from the outside. He believes it mimics motherly love. 

When a mother looks at her baby, there is a period in the baby's life when it can see its reflection in her eyes, he/she sees the affection the mother has for him/her. A selfie replaces that figure. We see ourselves looking lovingly at ourselves. 

This also means, that there's no distance between the viewer and the viewee which, is one and the same. 

What this does is it generates narcissism, we become self involved and lose connection with others. This bleeds over into sex. Nowadays we're all using the web for personal pleasure, porn is available all too easily. In the past magazines were used. Magazines left things to the imagination, it left the possibility of connection. Videos don't. There's no connection between participants in the video nor between the viewer and the video. And the viewer has no need to use imagination. 

In real life this leaves people feeling like the only thing that satisfies them is themselves. It is a completely introverted and narcissistic behaviour that doesn't allow for a partner. The partner could never, and will never reach that same level. She/he could never compete with self satisfaction and the ideals of porn.

It was an interesting topic. Something I've thought about quite a lot and it was cool to be able to talk to someone who 'gets it' and who has professional insight. 

Rampant Incompetence

So remember that wrist story? I fell at Christmas and a month later went to hospital, well that was a month ago now and I've still got a brace on. I had to go back to the hospital last week to get more x-rays, they found a small irregularity that could be a fracture but they won't know until I get an MRI. The whole situation was a pain in the ass because one of the doctors yelled at me and made fun of me in front of other doctors or nurses, which was rather humiliating. He yelled that I had just been at the hospital not 10 days before, that I was fine and there was absolutely nothing wrong with my wrist... And this was after the x-rays. 

It was such a frustrating experience that I burst into tears right there. Plus I was already frustrated with the bf because he came with me to the hospital and then got angry at me for wanting to go through with the ER doctors that evening, even if it was my GP who sent me. He then refused to come in to see the doctor with me. I was so angry when I left, with both the doctor for yelling and humiliating me, and at the bf for not putting aside his fucking pride to come in with me. I'm sure I'd have avoided the situation or it would have been more manageable. 

I'm pretty sure my wrist is fractured, and I have a feeling it's fractured in a couple places. On the 10th of March I have the MRI and then I'll have to wait for the results for a week. Then I'll have another appointment with an orthopaedic doctor. So it will be a slow process. 

Meanwhile I sent a letter to the hospital about the jerk at the ER. 

The healthcare system here can be good but it can also be a nightmare. Not only did I get the jerk at the ER that evening, I also got an incompetent woman take the orthopaedic appointment. She put it in February instead of March. I was lucky that someone from the hospital called me asking to move my appointment to an earlier time that day and she caught he mistake, otherwise I'd have had to pay for the missed appointment plus I wouldn't have been able to see a doctor after the MRI. I'd have had to wait another month. 

It all makes me so angry. Grr. 

Not only that but I've had no real help regarding my wrist. The first doctor I saw said it was a sprain, the second said I had nothing. The only one who confirmed anything was a radiologist...

I've still got the brace on and it still hurts when I move it in certain directions. 

I'm worried about work, I've got a group of 5 students in mid April, that are coming for a specialized course that is MY specialization and without my right hand I can't teach it. 

The Art of Masturbation

The title of Rob's most recent video. 

There's these overlapping, swimming images, alternating between aproximately four different videos. 

I sent most of them ages ago. One I had no memory of, another was much more recent. 

There's one where I'm wearing tight and very fucking short jean shorts and a lace top. One where I'm sitting naked, or almost, and pouring coconut oil onto myself. Another where I'm in fishnets and yet another where I'm just on the bed with a tank top. 

The background sounds are an intoxicating mix of me whispering desires and needs into a mic, my breathing and Mezzanine, a Massive Attack song.

The videos are often in split screen, sometimes it's a video box over the main view. Some clips border on black and white with an industrial steel blue feel to it, others a sort of Polaroid, slightly overexposed and warm toned. They have a filter of soft fairy lights. But there's this glitch. The glitch is brilliant, it's intentional, the video skips, the audio clicks and it repeats almost imperceptibly. I love the glitch. He's inserted it into numerous places. It makes the whole thing unique. It's industrial and harsh and contrasts the soft and sexy images. It gives it an imperceptible edge. Maybe it reminds me of his attention to detail and the fact that it wouldn't be there if he didn't want it there. I think too that It almost mirrors his personality in a way. This warm exterior with unexpected playfully harsh undertones.... Maybe we both have that. 

When I record a video for him I don't watch it. I will sometimes roughly edit them down so they're not too long, but I generally can't stand to watch myself. I can watch myself live, I can watch myself no problem, but once I lose touch, once I get closer to coming, I get embarrassed. I don't want to see myself cum in a video. 

He sent me the video the other day. I'd seen a version at a moment when I couldn't watch. But Saturday I took my time with it. I actually managed to distance myself from it enough that it turned me the fuck on. I came hard, it had been weeks since I came. It was delicious. 

I'm so fond of the videos he's made, I feel sort of bad that I can't show them to anyone. Don't get me wrong... I'm not posting them anywhere public. But man, I wish I could. They are awesome. 

Answers

The poetry of abandoned places, consumed by time and devoured by nature. There is a village in Africa where the desert is slowly taking back what was once her territory. Sometimes I feel like we are all just waiting, like the village, to go right back to nature. Back to whence we came. My body gets tired though. It is decaying as we speak. We all are. From the minute we are born we start decaying. We are simply moving toward closing the circle.

What makes it worthwhile are connections, emotional growth and what chemicals we manage to release into our systems and how often. That craving for oxytocin, the love chemical. It's probably the strongest chemical we have. I'm no scientist but I doubt there's anything stronger and more lasting than oxytocin. 

So the short of it? We're all here to get drugged up before we die. The important thing is who we get drugged up with. That's what counts. That and how many times we can get drugged up. Some people aim for the lowest count, others aim for the highest. 

Sometimes it's inevitable, sometimes we can choose. There's no right or wrong. Just cock and pussy juice running down my legs. That's all that really counts. 

The ancient civilizations all had it right with their female deities. The ancient Venus. The large bellied and large breasted, faceless and limbless statue.

Provocateur par excellence. The embodiment of sexuality. She IS sex. (She is what the warrior in me wants to become). The ultimate objectification of woman like the phallus is the ultimate objectification of man. That is the meaning of life. Therein lies the answer we've all been searching for. Reproduction. But not just any reproduction. Reproduction with the goal of more connection. Oxytocin. 

Missing Luck

I fell at Christmas. Almost a month later my wrist started really hurting and making horrific noises when rotating. 

I went to the hospital to get x-rays but they didn't find anything so I went to the emergency ward and they gave me the option of a cast or a brace.

I obviously chose a brace. It's my right wrist, so that's a ton of fun. I can still do minor things like writing and painting, thank god. 

The other day, I got a cold sore, it was so much worse than normal. The day after I broke out, the whole side of my face started hurting, pain, burning sensation, pulsing and even just to touch the skin or hair around my ears was agony. 

This morning I wake up, cold sore almost gone, but I've got blood in my ear. Scary fucking shit. So now I'm at the doctor's office. 

Waiting. 

Stupid.

...

She can't tell what's going on. She can't even see my eardrum it's so swollen. So, meds to take the swelling down, then we'll see. 

Gah... Feeling sorry for myself. Joy. 

The Neighbour (Cont.)

So he's doing it again. And there really is no way of knowing what exactly is going on, but I seem to be getting personalized messages on FB again. They are mostly small emoticons or simple phrases, they look public but aren't, at least not completely. They aren't offensive or flirty at all. 

He had stopped for a long time but it started again a week ago. I noticed because the postsweren't getting any likes or comments, and they always appear at the top of my feed. Once he even made the mistake of forgetting to change the target audience back to public because he posted the same thing twice. Once to just me, and once publicly. 

I am still ignoring these posts. But I do admit to being mildly attracted to the attention. Then again I'm always attracted to attention, more so from certain people, mind you, but still an attention whore. 

Submissive or Lazy?

I'm lazy. I'm really fucking lazy. I'm lazy in some things but not all things. One of those things is sex. I'm very happy to just lie there and get fucked. I'd much rather get fucked than fuck. I am a submissive lover, I wonder if it partly stems from my laziness. 

There are times when my libido is so strong I am tempted to throw a man onto a bed and fuck him, and I have done this numerous times. But if I had to choose, I'd definitely choose to be fucked. 

I'm happy just laying there while you slide your cock into whichever hole pleases you. I am not a strong woman, I'm not acrobatic, or one for a lot of bouncing, I get tired fast. I just want to take your cock any which way I can. I want to feel useless and used, helpless but helpful to your orgasm. Most importantly I want to feel worn out and worked hard. I want to feel exhausted and spent. To the point I can barely move. I am here, take every pent up emotion, frustration, anger, love, passion out on me. Use whatever you find, nothing scares me with you.  Traditional? Sure. Unusual? Even better. Dangerous? Try me. But I love that exhilaration. I love it when you do all the work. I love feeling your total control. Your guidance, your direction, your ingenuity. I need it. I crave it.