Is it the bad boy attraction factor that lures me in?  The devlish goatee.  The glint in the eye.  The smirk that says yeah, I'll make you cry but you'll beg me for it first.

Tracing the tattoos on his body with my eyes, lips, tongue, nipples.  Finally, pressing against him so he can feel how wet he makes me.

His lips slide down between my breasts and I press my lips against his bald head and brush my cheek across it.

God lord, I think, I'm fucking Mr. Clean!  But the commercial never made me feel like this.  Once he pushed my legs wide and rubbed his shaved head against my shaved pussy until it was slick.  I begged him to finish me with his tongue but he just laughed.

I had a canopy bed then.  A canopy bed with four tall posts set wide enough to be an effective movement deterrent when used efficiently.  And he was an efficiency expert.  Not since then has my collection of cotton and silk scarves been used so extensively.

The foot rail was cold and pressed against my belly and thighs.  I was pulled forward, my wrists pulled taut at the head of the bronze headboard.  I felt as though I might fall back but it would have been impossible with my ankles bound to the legs of the bed.

I still hear him sometimes when I dream.  A hoarse whisper just behind my ear that sends shivers down my back, " You're mine.  You're  fucking mine."

I watch RuPaul's Drag Race on LOGO.  I am watching Pageant, a movie about the Miss Gay America Pageant.  Once, long ago, I was helped to dress as the Fabulous Devine by a drag queen who performs regularly in Arizona.  And oddly, dressed as a man dressing as a woman was one of the times in my life when I felt the most beautiful, confidant and outgoing.

Right now I'm sitting in sweaty yoga pants with unwashed hair and bare feet in front of the telly.  My cat is pawing at the air begging for attention.  My erstwhile beau is upstairs doing god knows what.

I live in Portland, Oregon.  I miss hanging out with gay men.  I'm not that familiar with gay women, to be honest with you.  But Drag Queens, to me, are like the cool kids in High School.  They are so beautiful, ultra feminine and incredible performers, too boot.

There is an established venue in downtown Portland called Darcelle's.  I'm dying to go.  A lot.  Drag shows give me the chills and put a huge smile on my face.

I need gay friends in the PacNW.  You know, girlz to go to brunch with, talk shit about my boyfriend with, tell me how to dress and especially to fix my makeup so I look like a girl instead of a bag lady.  But the Holy Grail of gay friends for me?  A best friend who is a drag queen.  Will I ever achieve this?  Doubtful, because I think you would have to be a far more confidant woman to be able to spend a great deal of time with someone who is always going to be more beautiful, stylish and feminine than you even if it were your Prom Night.  But I can dream.

The other night I was in chat and some random fellow I have never spoken to and have seldom seen in chat said, "It looks like we are neighbors.  Wanna PC?"

My response was - "Sorry, I don't PC with people I don't know."

I did not say fuck off.  I did not say you have no picture so you do not exist.  I did not say you can't type and therefore I have absolutely no interest in corresponding with you.

What I will say here and forever more to all I encounter is why the fuck would I even consider inviting you into my PC if all you have done is almost-sort-of-kinda-a-little-bit acknowledge me and nothing else?  I certainly don't pop into chat and start asking people to do headstands on their cams, tattoo my name on their foreskins and mail me checks for millions of dollars!  (At least not until we have built some kind of rapport.)

Look, I know that chat sessions have relatively new etiquette in communicative scheme of things but would you really walk up to a woman/man/goat/octopus you have never seen, say nice day and lead them to a secluded closet?  OK, well, goat and octopus might have a higher chance of going willingly but even critters like to take a survey of who the fuck you are before they go traipsing off with you solo.

But then again, even those who have at least taken the time to read all one sentence of my ad and like to use it as an opening line seems to think that this will make me swoon with appreciation and toddle off to a private chat session.  And frankly, private chat for me?  Not all that it's cracked up to be.  Why? you may ask.  Here is the reason I have sworn off of PC with strangers.

>So are you wet?
>You like a hard dick?
>I want to make you come so hard.

First thing off the tip of their fingers is soooo cliche and banal that all it deserves is to have the window closed and reassures that I have done the correct thing in only allowing PC with a very few cohorts that have taken the time to cultivate an interest for me. 

But, how dv?, you may ask yourself, how do we become pals, buddies, cyber sex partners? 

Hmmm, I say to you, don't be an idiot.  How do you do it anywhere else?  Just because you have a 10 inch dick and abs like an iron six-pack does not mean you are remotely interesting to me in any way shape or form.  It is very likely I can get the same connection and pleasure by simply starting at your profile pic, if you even have one, without ever having to start or maintain a conversation.

But, if I were interested in getting to know someone I would probably at least say hello.  Perhaps comment on the current thread of conversation they are participating in within the room.  Dare I say, I might even compliment them on their profile/blog/picture and see if there is any reciprocation.  Who knows, it might just open other avenues of communication to others in the room.  And doesn't any one like to tease any more?  That erotic banter of double entendre that gets your minds juices flowing at about the same time your nether regions kicks in?

Best bet for actual PC opportunities with just about everybody?  Be astute.  Brilliant isn't necessary but paying attention should be a given.  Think with your head, the big one.  The little one will get significant attention if you let the big one do the introductions.

I have come to the conclusion that karma knows something I do not. 

I travel quite a great deal and people to meet and greet are everywhere that I'm not. Truly!  I now know this to be true.  So here I sit in downtown San Francisco, all alone and bored silly.  I know at least three guys from ths area and none have been around the last few times I have been on here so I could let them know or make plans to hang out.

Perhaps, karma knows that I have a tendency to live in the moment?  Hmmm, could be.  Or, if there is someone that is new to me and in the immediate area often he has no picture or is using his latest mug shot.  I don't always feel comfortable saying I'll hang out with guys I've never seen or talked to in chat.  Go figure.

OK, I found the reason to continue going to yoga classes when I was poking around on the internet.  I find internet porn to be very inspiring.

The other night I found an interesting clip.  The girl was reclined and strapped to a long pole, arms straight out at her sides.  Her legs were splayed wide and strapped back and the oddest thing about the scene was that her big toe was lassoed on each foot and suspended from the ceiling.  Like a big fleshy V.

A man entered.  He kneeled and pushed his face against her.  Her mouth opened in surprise, pain, sensation?  He sucked hard, I could see that much. 

When I was younger and I learned what I preferred in sex I dreamed of a man that would always be oral.  Now that I have that I crave a man who is more into fucking, or maybe just really likes both. 

What's the addage?  Be careful what you wish for?

So does that mean that some day I will find a man that likes to tie me up and force me to come over and over and over.....

I have no idea, but, just in case, I'm going back to yoga class.