Schmoop.

I haven't had sex in a month. Not for lack of drive nor lack of boys, but for lack of Tommy. He's... not perfect, now, but he's a lot of what I could want in a man. He's smart, funny, geeky, tough, responsible, affectionate as hell, and a sick bastard. Even though he's in Boston now, we talk all the time and it always makes me happy.

The word we've been using is "schmoop." Schmoop covers a lot--everything from "call me when you've had a bad day" to "I'm going to tell you exactly how cute you are and I won't take no for an answer" to "let's just stay up late on the phone talking about nothing for hours." Schmoop feels good.

And it just wouldn't feel right to have sex with someone else now. Having Tommy find out about it would make me feel horrible, and hiding it from Tommy would make me feel horrible. I'm horny as hell, like always, but right now I'm really only horny for Tommy. The sex we had a month ago was rough and sweet and fucking amazing. Maybe I'm spoiled, but I don't just want to have sex--I want to have that sex.

I'm going out to Boston some time in the next month or so. Eventually, he might actually move to Seattle. Which scares me that it might be too much too soon--how could someone think of changing their whole life because of lil ol' me, he must be crazy--but it also feels like something that would make me fantastically happy. I almost don't want to talk to him about it for fear that I'll wrongly encourage him to do it; I'd love to have him here so much that I don't want to influence him into making a bad decision.

(This isn't as out of the blue as it may sound. Tommy and I have been schmooping for several months. I've just been circumspect about posting about it because Tommy reads the Pervocracy. But now we've talked about these things so I feel okay posting them.)

I like Tommy so much that I'm actually giving up my slut ways. It's bizarre. Thank God he's a sick fucking freak in bed, or I don't know what I'd do with myself.