Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman

by Lorelei Elstrom

  Owning Regina

  Diary of my unexpected passion for another woman

  LORELEI ELSTROM

  Sebastopol Bay Press, LLC

  Copyright 2014 Lorelei Elstrom

  Manufactured in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Published by Sebastopol Bay Press, LLC.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Lorelei Elstrom

  Owning Regina: Diary of my unexpected passion for another woman

  ISBN NUMBER: 978-1499362190

  Cover art painter: Eric Wallis / wallisart.com

  Proofreading by Marianne Haynes

  Audio version narrated by Hunter Keanon

  The author or publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for any content of this book on third-party websites or distribution platforms.

  This diary has been fictionalized in order to protect the privacy of certain individuals. Though it may bear many striking similarities to real life situations, people and relationships, any such depictions are purely coincidental. Many punctuation, spelling, and grammatical errors have been preserved to illustrate the spirit of the original work.

  --- THURSDAY MARCH 1, 12:01am --- It’s all about me.

  My boyfriend is an ass!

  Hello Diary! I’ve always wanted to keep a journal, but never had enough motivation to actually do it. I should have gone to you a lot sooner, but I usually just bitch a while about things until I calm down, then change course until some other episode arises. But today is different. My boyfriend’s an ass. Did I make that clear? Ass Ass Ass Ass Ass dickwad fuckface. Ass.

  Let’s see, how long have we been dating? Um, about one and a half years. And how many times does he initiate ANYTHING with me? Umm, about zero. He takes me for granted. When I was a kid, I used to think it was “take me for granite.” Ha. I wish I were granite. That way I would never be the one to make the first move. I would just sit there as a rock. If boyfriend Stephen would want to do anything with me, then he would have to come over and say… hey Rock, wanna go to a movie? Or wanna make out? It’s like this song by Eleni Mandell, “I’m Soulful” where she sings, “Treat Me Like I’m Heavy”. What a great frickin’ song. I want to mean something to Stephen. But I mean jack to him. Dick! Did I mention he is an ass?

  When we first met, he fawned on me. “You’re beautiful! You are amazing. I’ve never seen a grown up with dimples. It’s so childlike and magnetic. I love how smart you are. Not many girls I know are as outgoing and charismatic as you! You are absolutely my dream woman. I can never imagine anyone sexier than you. Your dark red hair glistens. Your body is amazing, always looking like you could be teaching a yoga class or appear in a Broadway dance show. You are amazing! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.” Yeah, right. He’s so full of it. Yeah, I’m so great.

  But I swear, nothing would ever happen unless I made the first move. Did he think to go to the movies on Friday? No. Did he think to sneak the chocolate and drinks into the theater? No. Did he call me to ask if I wanted to take a trip up to Sonoma this weekend? He never does shit. If I’m so hot and sexy and beautiful and smart and dimply, then why does he never initiate anything? Even with sex, it’s always me. It’s supposed to be the opposite with dudes. They are supposed to be the horny ones.

  So is Stephen gay? Far from it. I caught him with porn a few times and it was exotic women… Indonesian, Egyptian, Mediterranean, all exotic with long, skinny legs and bony everything. So he definitely likes the copper colored women. Oh, and flat too. They were all flat. I don’t blame him for the porn, but I blame him for faking that he was attracted to me and my boobs. Why would he want to be with me and pretend he’s attracted? Is it because he is too checked out to be real? Is it because his friends always tell him I’m a catch?

  I’ve been keeping score for the past couple weeks to see if he would ever initiate a single thing with me. Nada. During the whole two weeks, he only called me twice. Both times he wanted to share something about work or whatever. I think he was sensing that I was testing him and wanted to make a showing. There is only one reason I have stayed with him: It was better than being alone. Better than being with someone strange. At least with Stephen, I know his flaws and being with him is harmless. Well, if you want to be in a lame relationship, it’s harmless.

  Besides, he’s extremely good-looking and it feels good when we go out. People think we are the couple that has it all. In public, he hangs all over me, as if to show me off. That feels great. But in private, I may as well be a sofa. I’ve never seen him pop a spontaneous erection over me.

  There’s never been passion. From day one it was really difficult to get him in the mood. Whenever he finally would get an erection and we would start messing around, it would only take about 5 minutes until he was not present and the passion would turn cold. Then, as soon as he was gone, I would have to play with myself in my dark little fantasies of being used as a sexual object. The few times when I had tried to get kinky with Stephen, he would close down faster than anything. I tried to explain to him that I want to explore dark and dangerous sex, but he just poo-pooed me every time. He has no clue what turns me on.

  Me, on the other hand, I know him well. I know he likes me to give him a hand job while we are kissing. That’s his thing. Cool. But that’s the extent of it. He has a very narrow sexual appetite. Very narrow. If I want to get him off, I just start kissing and doing the hand thing. Two minutes later, he’s done. Does he like oral anything? No. Does he get turned on by my breasts that other men have described as “large and perfect”? No. Does he ever want to stick his cock up my ass while I offer my yoga butt to him doggie style? Not in a million years.

  Back to testing him about initiating things: Last week I called him and said that today I really want to drive up the coast to Petaluma. It was supposed to be foggy and Pete (from work) told me about this awesome restaurant near the water. So when today came, I called Stephen to see if he still wanted to drive up there with me. He said, “Sure.” I was really excited. I played all these fantasies in my head about how today would be the day he really appreciated me. I put on my olive sweater dress with a thick brown belt and wore my brand new really tall cognac colored boots.

  I have the biggest boot fetish. Boots always look strong and powerful and sexy. And brown boots have this earthy, yet commanding feel to them. These particular boots have a 4” stacked heel (kind of blocky) and a rounded toe that is absolutely classic!! Last night, crazy as this sounds, I slept in them!! I swear to God. I was trying on outfits for today, and then sat in bed to watch a news story for a minute and before I knew it, it was morning and I still had my boots on. I was surprised when I woke up to see them on me. But they looked pretty hot, I must say. I started pretending that a beautiful 42-year-old woman was sitting across the room, staring at me… as I was naked with just my high brown boots. I was imagining she was getting secretly turned on.

  I don’t know why I was thinking about a woman, but it felt nice. In fact, I started slowly playing with myself as she watched. She seemed to be encouraging me with her eyes to keep going. I kept looking at my high heels digging into the sheets and then back at her. She seemed to be leaning in and getting very interested. I kept going with myself. The woman (dressed in a fresh white blouse, tweed wool skirt and high
maroon pumps) was calmly drinking a glass of water as she watched. I love the way the leather looked against my legs. Finally, I exploded! It was fireworks. Right then, the woman had vanished.

  So I showed up at Stephen’s in those same boots and my dress. I felt so alive and sexy and excited to be heading up the coast with him. Just the word “Sonoma” sounds sophisticated and romantic!

  But when I got Stephen’s, he gave me a retarded excuse about not being able to take the trip. He had to move the crap in his storage unit and didn’t realize it was the last day of the special they were offering to upgrade to a bigger space. So he dissed me. And when I was walking away, really hurt and pissed at the same time, he said, “You sure look great. Sorry I can’t go. By the way, that outfit would look way better on you without those boots. Too overbearing.”

  I shot him a look and took off. AAAAAASSSSSSSS!!! I resolved myself to give him until midnight to make amends and get back to me about missing the day up north. He didn’t call me after 4pm, when he would have supposedly been done with his storage thing. He didn’t call me at 6pm. He didn’t call me at 8pm. Not at 8:05. Not at 9:00. Not at 11:15. It was 11:59. The fuckface never got in touch with me during the whole day. But when there was still one minute left before midnight, I thought… maybe… maybe. Maybe it was all a blunder on his part and he would call to profusely apologize and get us back on track. Oooops! The clock just flipped to 12:01. Nice year and a half wasted. I will never contact him again. … I can’t remember his name… What was his name again?!!

  Happy birthday, Meg! I had taken the whole day off work for absolutely nothing! Happy Birthday, Meg Curtis. It only comes once a year, and this one just passed with no acknowledgement whatsoever… Not even a candle on a cupcake!

  --- FRIDAY MARCH 2 --- Burn sucker

  Ok. Now it’s Friday and I’m at work. Boyfriend X called me at 10:30am. I didn’t answer and he didn’t leave a message I was hoping for such as, “Oh shit!!! I feel like a jerk!! I totally forgot your birthday! Let me take you to Santa Barbara for a weekend trip to make it up to you!!” But he left no message at all. At 12:15 BX (Boyfriend X) called again and left a message “Hey. How’s it going? Haven’t heard from you today.” At 2:15 he called again. But this time I was ready for him. Pete, the coolest guy I know (too bad he’s gay) picked up my phone and said “She’s done with you. Never contact her again.” Burn BX. Burn. I wondered what would happen after that. Will he call me 20 times in a row in desperation to make amends? Turns out he got the message loud and clear and never called again. He was probably relieved. He can go suck on the toes of his exotic brown girls. Ciao, BX.

  --- SATURDAY MARCH 3 --- Stewing versus lamenting

  Don’t know what to say. Kind of pissed, but kind of don’t care about BX. Didn’t really do much but lie around and channel surf.

  --- MONDAY MARCH 5 --- Not big with strangers

  A guy hit on me today at Starbucks. He seemed really cool and had some charm. He was about thirty, 4 years older than me. But something told me to blow him off. I think my intuition is always right. Besides, I have rebound goggles on and every guy looks like my savior. Then again, part of me just wants to have a one-night stand to shake off BX.

  But as much as it sounds exciting, I’m embarrassed to say that a real life one-nighter is not really for me. I’m the type of girl that needs to warm up to a person… for like a month. After that, there are no depths of passion I won’t explore.

  It was that way with BX at first. But for whatever reason, his passion faucet turned off and he left me high and dry. X is the best part of his name. I’m going to call my best friend Victoria to celebrate my belated 26th birthday with some margaritas. Whenever I see her, my mood lightens up. She’s a hoot! She’s got one of those big “let’s talk to strangers” personalities and has no trouble getting guys. The funny thing is, she is pretty curvy. But guys still go crazy for her because she is so fun and willing to do anything in the name of bringing up a room. She’s a bombastic class clown with a giant potty mouth, a super beautiful face and a seductive smile when she works it. See ya.

  --- TUESDAY MARCH 6 --- Big meets little

  Had a great time with Victoria. But then, sure enough, she had a few too many drinks and bailed with a short guy in a big BMW. HOLD ON --- She’s calling.

  Ok, I got the low down. She had a great time and the guy was really nice. They didn’t end up doing anything other than kissing a lot while he fondled her boobs. Then she was too tired and split. Shorty was cool with it.

  He drove her home… during which time she learned that he doesn’t even live here. He lives in Baltimore but was just renting a condo in the city for a week for some biz thing. It’s funny that San Francisco has so few single men who aren’t gay and one of them just left to diminish Victoria’s odds.

  --- WEDNESDAY MARCH 7 --- Rocking the job

  I really like my job. Takes my mind off BX and guys in general. When I started this job, I never realized what a good fit it is for me. It’s a boutique commercial production company. We have made some of the top ads in the world. We have a director that earns at least $120,000 per commercial. Fucking guy is so loaded! Whatever. It would take me a year to earn less than half of what he makes on a single commercial.

  But I’m not complaining. I get all kinds of perks. And without me, one of the sharpest production coordinators in the business (I must say), that company would earn way less money. I have single-handedly saved the company millions of dollars because of my ruthless negotiations with vendors and talent.

  People think of me as really friendly and accommodating. But I always get what I want. I don’t have an asshole style, so people tend to acquiesce when I want something. It’s a talent I guess. My boss says I can talk anybody into anything. You get more with honey than with vinegar. Also, I always try to help anyone I can with favors. I like helping people. I get good Karma, but mostly I just like the feeling of helping. It also magically translates into dollars.

  On a side note, I think I look really good today. Been getting a lot of compliments. I wore my cognac boots, no wonder.

  --- FRIDAY MARCH 9 --- Dinner at my sister, Jenna’s

  I had dinner at my sister Jenna’s. She is my only sibling. Even though we are only 18 months apart, it’s clear that she’s older… in more ways than one. She started a family right away. I haven’t found the need yet. She was always the pleaser; I was the mouthy rebel. She got A’s in school. So did I, but only in classes I cared about, psychology, for example. But I always got D’s in classes like biology and Algebra. I just didn’t care about that crap and knew I was never going to be working in a physics lab. My parents were always exasperated with my 2.5 GPA throughout my whole school career. If you take the average of a bunch of D’s and a few A’s, it pretty much rounds to a C.

  Anyway, Jenna’s “happily” married and has two kids. Truth is, she and her family are perfect. Nothing’s ever wrong. Everything is fine. Her job’s fine. His job’s fine. The kids are fine. Even when we go to the movies, I say “how’d you like the movie?” and she always responds, “It was pretty good.” Really? Even when it’s a piece-of-junk annoying movie? It’s always “pretty good”. Me, on the other hand… I’m the first one to say it was terrible. I never hold back on having an opinion. I feel like I’m more real than my sister. I’m not afraid to be vocal. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop with Jenna. All that “pretty good” has got to be a cover for something.

  In fact, I know one thing that is not “pretty good” with them. She and Mark probably never have sex. They never touch each other. They are so pleasant and happy, but there is never raw passion. Doesn’t Jenna ever just want to get fucked in a gutter somewhere? Doesn’t she ever fantasize about being chained to a floor and having some guy ram her until she can’t take it any more? No. Jenna would freak at that kind of a thought.

  I’m telling you, we are all complex people and have complex personalities and sexual needs. I love a good back
rub or cuddling as much as the next girl. I can be silly and playful. I can have fun just kissing. But I need the full range of expression and feelings. Some times I need to fuck and sometimes I need to cuddle. Sometimes I need to have road rage and some times I need to be a good Samaritan. How could anyone mask her emotional diversity like Jenna does?

  And then there is the judgment. I always feel like she judges me for being so colorful and unabashed, no matter what my mood. I can be pissy or sweet. I can be a raving bitch or an adorable angel that everyone loves. I love contrast. Contrast is what makes us whole.

  Jenna and Mark could live in San Francisco where they both work. It’s a city with culture and wealth and poverty and lots of contrast. The ocean meets the skyscrapers. But instead, Jenna and Mark live in Burlingame, a boring suburb where nothing happens. There is no contrast there of any kind. “Pretty good” I guess.

  Come to think of it, that’s what was going on with Boyfriend X. For a year and a half I couldn’t figure him out. Why was he so attracted to me, yet so distant at the same time? But I think he’s like Jenna. He is afraid to let it rip. He’s afraid to show more colors than tepid grey. I think he was super attracted to my sweet and pleasant aspects. That’s what he wanted me to be all the time. But then, when my burning passion for something would show up, he would withdraw. I could never really be myself. I sensed it. And, trying to make it work, I would curb my wild self. But after about a year, it was getting to me. I felt like I wasn’t living a truthful life. I was a closeted mood swinger and thinker. I was always tempered and contained.

  Finally, after many vocalized observations from Victoria over cocktails, I discovered that I was, in fact, not living my true personality. So I started to be more of myself. And the more I stepped out, the more BX couldn’t roll with it. He started pulling away. Sex was ridiculous. There was no passion at all. The more I pushed, the more reserved his sex was.

  But the thing is, my natural sexual orientation is kinky. People are born gay, straight, or… kinky. I’ve always craved wild and dangerous sex. It sounds like a fake cliché, but it’s real. I literally can’t get turned on without thinking of being tied up or doing it in some shady back alley. The missionary position does nothing for me. When I was a little girl, I remember playing cowboys and indians with the neighbor kid. I always tied him up and would think of ways to torture him. One time, I humiliated him by bringing my littler girlfriend over to see him tied up. But I think he was kinky too because he kept coming over to play the game. More than a few times, I saw that he had a “stiffy”. Ha. That’s what we called it.