Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.Donate, Bitches
Posted on September 10, 2009You, lovely readers, make me exceedingly happy, ’tis true. However, very few of you have availed yourself of that donate button.
I’m poor. Really poor. So poor the Ex and Roomie have moved in with me. If you’re unclear as to what a big fucking deal this is, let me make it clear: The Ex is my ex-husband (10 year anniversary would have been yesterday 9/9/09; we’re officially divorced as of 12/31/08) and Roomie is his girlfriend.
The three of us, along with Isis, an adorable doberman, and Joaquin, an extremely furry but tiny (7lbs.) feline, live in a one-bedroom loft.
“Loft” is euphemism for no fucking privacy whatsoever. The bedroom is in the loft area, but it has no 4th wall or door, just some curtains. The couple sleeps in the “bedroom” while I sleep on the couch.
Tough economic times.
But I want to be able to keep writing, to continue to post daily, to occasionally give y’all dirty photos. To do so I need some financial incentive. I know, money is dirty and disgusting, but it’s a fact of life.
So please, donate. Every little bit counts, though as readers of Random Rim Jobs you know I like ‘em big.
Donate, bitches.
Oh, yeah, those who donate generously will get dirty pics of me. WAY dirtier than I’ve ever posted either here or on Twitter. Trust me, they’re hot. If you want to see ‘em donate generously.
Smooth as Silk (Part 4)
Posted on September 09, 2009[Continued from "Smooth as Silk (Part 3)."]
The Ex returned from his trip to the Northeast early. He was severely sunburned and clearly sick. He told me he and Jesús had rented scooters so they could take a day trip, but that his scooter broke down so he couldn’t go faster than 20mph most of the trip back, hence the sunburn. I’m still not convinced the sick wasn’t just too much damn alcohol and Xanax.
There are pictures from their trip. Jesús looks gorgeous, and the Ex looks wan. Jesús was beautiful when we met him. He was about 6’2″; with slightly long, silky, black hair; and paradoxically small, delicate hands. He was thin, and although I never saw him sans shirt my suspicions that he had a nice body were later affirmed by a girlfriend. And that charm. That summer he was on fucking fire. He fucked so many chicks and did so many drugs and went on so many adventures. I think he went to the emergency room twice, both times because he took too much of a drug or drugs. His behavior that summer, combined with subsequent seriously depressive behavior, convinced me Jesús was bipolar, a condition to which he would never admit or seek treatment. He died two years ago this month (2007 was a truly shitty year).
I felt guilty about the night with Mickey and the Thai boys and confessed to the Ex almost immediately. He was upset but said he could understand and that it was ok. I can’t recall if I told him at this time about the guys back in San Francisco. I know I didn’t mention that I gave any blow jobs, though of course I had at that point sucked three non-spousal cocks.
We continued to go out drinking, popping pills, dancing, and eating. Jesús and the Ex graduated from Xanax to Rohipnol around this time. I opted not to. Also around this time a friend from law school, Maggie, decided on a whim to come visit. She joined the ranks of us alcohol-and-Xanax-induced zombies wandering around the streets of Bangkok.
The soundtrack was the live version of “Let’s Get Loud” by Jennifer Lopez. Every time we walked in any Watsons the video was playing, on repeat. Loudly, as I suppose is appropriate. We were in Watsons a lot; it was very well air-conditioned, and it was fun to see the various beauty products sold there. Skin bleaching creams were all the rage since pale skin meant someone was high class enough not to have to work outside in the unrelenting sun. More times than I can count (and not just because I was zoned out on Xanax all the time) I was told how lucky I was to be so pale.
Somewhere in this haze I paid for sex for the first time. Mickey had paid the boys before, and in my mind that meant it didn’t “count.” Also, he paid them to be with him, after I left, not with me. I felt like I was a bonus since I was a girl.
The young, cute boy from the night with Mickey, who was apparently Chinese, not Thai, had become a favorite of mine. I faintly remember fucking him in my own hotel room and handing him 1000 Baht (the exchange rate at the time was 40 Baht = $1 US) as he left. He never asked for money, which helped me with that feeling that I was doing him a favor by fucking him, and by giving him money.
I was working in a law office with Michael during the day. I turned out to be the token white woman in the office so I went to meetings and just stood there looking white and womanly. It wasn’t a terrible gig. Other than meetings, I hung out at the office a lot, and checked my email. (It was 2000 so accessing the internet wasn’t nearly as easy as it is now.) It was from the law firm’s office that I read the email from Dean that informed me that Jason had died.
I was completely shocked. Jason and I had become very close quite quickly. Apparently he had crashed into road construction equipment while driving at night somewhere in the Northwest US after having visited his brother in Washington. To cope, I did more drinking, Xanax-ing, dancing, etc.
I took everyone who would go to the go-go bar to which Mickey had introduced me. I was a regular at that point. The boys I’d been with the night with Mickey, and subsequently, always greeted me and then chatted with me at my table. Their friends joined them. I felt popular. The boys were so fucking cute. And young.
It was one of these nights that we all went out together, but I took my leave to go to the go-go bar, that I decided, in an alcohol-and-Xanax haze, that I wanted to fuck two of the boys. I thought it would be disrespectful to do so in the room I shared with the Ex, but didn’t seem to have a problem with parading the boys in front of the Ex when I asked Maggie for her hotel room key so I could fuck them there.
The Ex was even more zonked out than I was and just kind of stared. I got Maggie’s room key, and the two boys and I made our way to her room. The three of us were in various states of undress having a whole lot of fun in Maggie’s room when there was a loud knock at the door.
At first I suspected it was hotel staff come to tell me I was not allowed to have prostitutes in the room so I told the boys to be quiet and went to the door. It was the Ex. I told him to go away. He insisted on coming in. I opened the door with the chain lock still on so I could peek through the opening. I again told the Ex to come back later.
Those chain locks–not so strong. The Ex pushed the door open, breaking the lock. The edge of the door hit my right brow bone and I was pushed back. The Ex burst into the room. The boys gathered their clothes and ran out of the room.
My eye really hurt. I looked in the mirror and I was bleeding. A lot. I’m sure the alcohol in my system didn’t help, but I could not stop the bleeding. In the mean time the Ex kept saying he just wanted to talk to me. I was angry that he had scared my cute little bar boys.
I told the Ex to leave. The country. I didn’t see him again until I returned to the US two weeks later.
I went to the hospital because I could not get the bleeding to stop. The ER was not crowded at all. The staff all spoke English very well. The vertical cut just above my right eyebrow was stitched up and I was given some medication. I went back some time later to have the stitches removed. Total cost: About $20 US.
Since I was alone I proceeded to do whatever the fuck I wanted. I recall walking on Convent Road one night thinking trash bags piled up for collection were stray dogs. Yeah, I was a mess, though to be fair, there were a lot of stray dogs around town. I knew almost immediately that I was lucky for not getting raped or some other horrible thing considering my inability to discern reality from hallucination based on my overconsumption of Xanax and alcohol.
More than once I woke up in my hotel room with absolutely no clue as to how I found my way there. One morning there was an issue of my room, Jesús’s and Maggie’s room (by this time they had become an item), and who was in whose bed in the morning and what happened the night before. None of us remembered a fucking thing, but I am almost positive I never fooled around with Jesús in any way, in Thailand or later in the US.
At the go-go bar I had met a boy who was neither a go-go boy nor a bar boy; he was sort of a manager/bouncer. We started spending all our time together: He shared my hotel room with me; we went out to eat together; etc. I paid for everything but I didn’t pay for his time. He had freckles and the softest skin and didn’t freak out too much when I cried while we fucked.
I learned that one of Jason’s last acts was to mail my August rent check. When I returned home I would have trouble accessing my apartment since my subtenant had given him her set of keys and I had no extras. Let that be a lesson, kids: always keep extra sets of your house keys because you never know who’ll die.
The Ex and I returned to San Francisco where we worked on being normal again after the debauchery that was Bangkok. We celebrated our one-year anniversary in the shitty studio apartment watching the video tape of our tacky Las Vegas wedding. The tape broke on first viewing. Which maybe should have been a sign. But we didn’t break up until he caught me cheating in 2007.
I swear. True story.
2/13/90: A Letter
Posted on September 08, 2009Approx. 1:15 am
Erica ~
I love you and I guess it will take some time to get over you but I can to it ’cause I’m strong. I don’t want to let you go but you aren’t going to make any effort to keep me, you save your efforts and begging for that who is special to you. Yes, I do believe you think you love me but have you ever wondered why it’s so easy for you to “fall in love with” someone? I love you more than anything but you can’t return that kind of unrequitted [sic] love to me. Maybe I’m being selfish and asking too much of you but you wouldn’t believe how much it hurts not to have someone return your love because they feel it for someone else. I guess I’ll probably be alone for the rest of my life because I can’t let anyone in. But I can handle it. (I think.) Please, tell me you still want me an love me and need me but no, you should do whatever you want. What do you want me to do? Because you know no matter what that is, I’ll do it. did you care that you wouldn’t have me anymore or was the risk simply worth it? I guess it wasn’t that difficult a decision to make. What would’ve happened if I’d been in town? If you’d just seen me, just made love to me, just told me you loved me? Would things have been different? Once again, my timing’s screwed. The only time my timing has been good is when I caught you in a bummer and got you to come to LA.
Another Experience (Part 2)
Posted on September 07, 2009[Continued from "Another Experience (Part 1)" by M_Hunt.]
As time further went on, I chatted to some more guys, sent some pics, indulged in a little phone sex, met a few people and indulged in some oral pleasure but nothing more than that. Until last week ….
My work is boring and with that in mind, I spend a lot of time on the internet. It’s never got me into any trouble, no one has ever said anything to me about the sites that I look at, the fact that I’m logged into god-knows-what at anytime, and that I have the Gaydar messenger client running constantly. It allows me many an avenue of escape from the work I have, that would have to be otherwise filled up with … well, work!
I had recently started a new profile on Gaydar, deleted my old one, changed my pics, and written the following about myself:
Hate writing these but here goes…35 year old guy looking for simliar to join me for some mutual fun…. watching porn, sucking, fucking…. you know… :-)
Looking for a daytime meet during the week….anytime is good but with fair warning.
Hung, fun and willing…. Someone that will turn up and not make plans and then drop out…
I’m just looking for some fun, no strings, can’t always accom but can travel. Would like to meet someone to play with, oral, anal, lots of kissing and maybe take some horny pics…
Interested… let me know!
New to all this so someone/some-ones with a nice cock to take it slow with me would be ideal….
Any guys who just want to chat are welcome too.
Nothing special, nothing amazing, but it worked. I started getting messages from a guy who lived a few miles down the road from where I worked, a short walk in fact. We did the usual back and forth, and one day last week he texted me and we arranged to meet. As usual I pondered, posted on Twitter asking whether I should go and meet the guy. ShazamSF responded and told me to go. Taking her advice, I did.
I took a stroll down the road from my office, and 5 minutes later I neared his house. I hovered outside and around the corner for a while, thinking about what was going to happen and I looked at some of the pics that he had sent me on my phone and felt myself start to get hard. I figured, why not. I walked up-to the front door and knocked.
He opened the door, and looked just like his photo he had sent. He smiled at me and beckoned me inside. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and I couldn’t help but glance down at his groin to see a nice looking bulge. We went into the living room and exchanged the usual small talk, looked about his living room, commented on the things that were there. All the while, the usual conversation was going through my head, did I want this, what was I doing, it’s time to leave.
An uncomfortable silence entered the room, and with him sitting next to me, I swear I was about to stand up and make my excuses when he leant over and kissed me. And that was it. None of the other guys I had met had kissed me, or had told me that they didn’t do that. This guy had none of that and feeling his lips on mine was really all it took.
Our tongues playfully darted in and out of each others’ mouths. He placed his hands on either side of my face and pulled me closer, pressing his lips harder onto mine. We broke from kissing and undressed quickly. I was in my work clothes so my shirt and trousers fell to the floor and I swiftly pulled off my boxers and socks til I stood naked in front of him, my cock stiffening as I took in the sight before me.
Now, the guy I was naked in front of had also removed all his clothes and he stood naked in front of me. However, he looked far better than I did: Slimmer, fitter, well toned; he looked amazing. More than that, his cock swung impressively between his legs. In comparison I don’t think he was as large as the previous guy, but that really didn’t matter as I knelt down before him and took hold of his cock and began sucking.
Looking up at him I watched his expression change as his cock filled my mouth and began getting harder and harder the more I sucked on it. I alternated between licking up and down his huge length and sucking on his slowly tightening balls. My lips closed around the head of his cock and sucked hard, which he seemed to like, especially when I ran my fist up and down his shaft at the same time.
He grew harder and harder as I sucked him. It took both my hands to effectively rub him up and down and still I could have done with another to help me take it all in my hands at the same time. I had the same trouble taking all his cock in my mouth, and found myself gagging as he began thrusting his hips back and forth, forcing it deeper in.
He grunted with each thrust, and started moaning to me to suck him, suck his big cock harder like the cock sucker I was. Hearing this and having his cock in my mouth made me harder and harder and I reached down and began wanking my own cock at the same time.
I stopped wanking his cock and reached round with my other hand, grabbing hold of his arse, squeezing tight and pulling it open. I moved my fingers in between his arse cheeks and slowly found his arsehole, and placed my finger over it. Pressing gently I began to work my finger inside, and he began pushing back on me and thrusting forward again so in one stroke my finger slid slowly deeper into his arse and in the other his cock pushed further into my mouth.
I stood and pulled him close for another kiss. I felt his hands reach out and take hold of my cock and begin pulling at me. My hands were still on his cock and we began tugging and pulling at each others’ cocks. Slapping them back and forth over each other and stroking each other.
His fist clasped hard around my cock and he dropped to his knees and began sucking me. It wasn’t the best blow job I had ever had (that’s another story) but the feel of a guy’s mouth around my cock, and looking down seeing him with his huge cock swinging each and every time he leant in for a hard suck on me, kept me hard and inching ever closer to coming.
As if he sensed this, he rose and roughly turned me around and bent me over so that I was leant over his sofa, with my arse in the air. I felt him bend down to his knees again, and suddenly I felt something wet against my arse. His tongue began licking me up and down, around my arsehole, making me wet, pressing deep, slipping inside me. His hands holding my arse cheeks wide, he licked me and I pushed back, letting him know that this was something that I was really enjoying.
After a while of this, he stood and I looked back over my shoulder to see him reach onto a shelf and take out a condom. Unwrapping it, he looked at me and said something surprising, “Are you ready?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. Thinking back, there was no hesitation on my part at this point, nothing inside my head saying that I should leave, only a desire to have my arse pounded by this guy’s cock.
I stayed where I was, opening my legs slightly wider and felt his fingers on me. A finger slid inside my arsehole, it worked itself deeper inside, feeling amazing and whilst it was inside me I began to feel the tip of his cock pressing against me also. He slowly pushed the head of his cock into me, pulling out his finger at the same time so that the space taken by his finger was now taken up with his cock. His cock being one hell of a lot thicker than his finger, I felt my arse stretching to take it and accept it as he slowly began rocking back and forth pushing it slowly inside me.
I remember thinking there was no way I was going to be able to take the whole of his cock inside me in between feeling him fuck me and my arse widen with each slow thrust. He put his hands on my shoulders and began pulling me back onto him, slowly but surely we got into a rhythm with him slowly pushing in and out of me, my arse clasping tightly around his enormous cock and me beginning to groan and moan as he fucked me.
It shot through my head, he was fucking me. This guy with his massive cock, whom I had spoken to once or twice and only just met, was forcing his cock deeper and deeper into me. He was pushing into me faster and feeling thicker and thicker with each thrust. He began groaning deeper with each thrust and I propped myself up on one hand and reached down to my cock to stroke myself whilst he continued.
I barely had time to touch my cock, and feel how incredibly hard it was, before an intense orgasm raced through my body and I came. My cum shot out of my cock all in front of me, landing luckily mainly on the floor and only a little on his sofa.
My orgasm made the muscles in my arse tighten further–it was indescribable and had the effect that it made my guy begin to come also. I felt his cock stiffen further as he held my shoulders tight and thrust into me faster and faster, further and further, and then with an enormous grunt and powerful push I felt him coming. His cock pulsed and expanded inside me as I felt his condom fill with his cum. He cried out very loudly as it continued and my own cock, still engorged and hard bucked and twitched with each pulse of his cock.
For a second we stayed there, his cock in me, until he gently pulled himself out. I felt empty when he had done so, and turned and sat on his sofa. It was the single best orgasm I have ever experienced, and for hours after I could still feel him inside me, I could still remember the feeling of him coming inside me.
As I said before, if you are a guy and never have done, you really should try it.
Thanksgiving (Part 2)
Posted on September 06, 2009[Continued from "Thanksgiving (Part 1)."]
Once in the bedroom the four of us began fooling around. When the guy revealed his little thing I hope the look of disappointment on my face wasn’t too transparent; clearly none of my fantasies of getting fucked with two huge cocks were going to be realized that night. Poor guy must’ve realized that he most definitely did not measure up to Thanksgiving cock-wise because the two men were never in the same visual space, even in my very small bedroom.
I tried very hard not to show that I thought the guy’s weenie was tiny. That I knew it was tiny. And apparently so did she. She, however, went above and beyond not showing her disappointment to pretending like his dick was big. When she sucked his cock she gagged, a lot. At the time I thought she just wasn’t very experienced at cock sucking to be having that much trouble sucking that little thing off. When I put that teeny peenie in my mouth I treated it like a bubble tea straw.
I went down on her. She came (or pretended to come) way too easily. I barely got the tip of my tongue on her clit when she acted like I was rocking her world. I like getting my face wet with pussy and finger fucking a cunt good and hard to get a lady to come; I barely even tasted clit at that point.
She then went down on Thanksgiving. And this is how I know she was acting when she was sucking the guy’s pee-pee: She deepthroated Thanksgiving. I had never deepthroated Thanksgiving, and he made it clear that she was taking in more cock than I ever had; that she was doing a much better job sucking is cock than ever I did.
I don’t think sex should be a competition; it should be fun. I said nothing, but felt angry that he was trying to antagonize me.
Then Thanksgiving fucked her in a way that was clearly not nice. She definitely seemed like she was getting fucked too hard. Thanksgiving had a maniacal grin on his face. I told him to back off multiple times. Finally, I offered to take over as the fuckee. She commented that he was being very vigorous, but I made it clear that he and I were used to each other and that I was fine.
After they left I asked him why he was such an asshole. He said he thought it was funny to put us ladies in competition with each other, and he grudge fucked her because he got vibes that she didn’t really want to fuck him. What a shithead.
We didn’t see each other again for a while. When we did, he seemed to be in the submissive part of his cycle, because he kept asking me to arrange for him to suck cock. Ok, sure.
Thanksgiving was bisexual and not at all ashamed of it, but he liked being “forced” to do things with men by women. He wanted me to be in charge. I placed an ad on Craig’s List under Casual Encounters mw4m.
The guy showed up and I poured him a glass of wine. I explained what we would be doing. The guy was nervous; he claimed he’d been wanting to be with a guy for a while but was too scared. I assured him that getting a blow job from a guy — and with a woman present — was a perfect introduction to man-on-man sex.
We continued to chit-chat. Thanksgiving was upstairs in my bedroom, blindfolded. We were within Thanksgiving’s earshot; I wanted him apprehensive for what was about to happen. We went up to my room where Thanksgiving was on my bed. I could tell he was agitated. I told the guy to pull out his cock and stick it in Thanksgiving’s mouth.
After that no directions were necessary. Thanksgiving eagerly sucked on the guy’s cock. Eventually, I, too, sucked the guy’s cock and Thanksgiving removed his blindfold. I don’t think I ever removed my pants.
I know I drank a significant amount of red wine that night, and that a lot of red wine plus cock sucking equals red wine stains on the ceiling. Not every time, of course, but that night somehow red wine ended up on my bedroom ceiling. The stains are still there.
Thanksgiving loved that experience so much he wanted to up the ante. He wanted me to place ads in CE m4m for him. Again, he had no problem getting guys to fool around with on his own, but he liked the idea of me forcing him to be with men.
He tried several times to get me to do this. He would text me letting me know he’d be home alone for the next x number of hours so I could place an ad on Craig’s List and send guys to his house, where his door would be unlocked, so they could fuck him. He wanted me to send guys to fuck him sight unseen and with little more screening than that they could respond to a Craig’s List ad.
This made me extremely uncomfortable because it is so unsafe. Finally, after ignoring several of his texts I told him that he was too far out there for me. I like my sex a little dangerous, but I did not want the responsibility of possibly getting him hurt, or worse.
I last saw Thanksgiving on New Years 2009. I was with the Ex and Roomie (the Ex’s girlfriend) and had no interest in awkward introductions, so I hid myself amongst the crowd and avoided him.
I swear. True story.
2/13/90: A Diary Entry
Posted on September 05, 200912:41 am
Well, she admitted it almost straight away. She says she’ll probably never see her again and she felt special because she wanted to spend the night with her and no one else. She gave her her leather and is going to pay her rent. She’s just all well you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do so just give me my chain back tomorrow and that’ll be it. She sounds like she doesn’t even care. She can only think of Juree. Why can’t I ever be that special? She’s so tired because she hasn’t gotten any sleep, aw, too bad. She keeps saying she does love me but I don’t know. She said she’s been through all this before, trying to convince her girlfriend that she’d never do it again blah, blah, blah. Well it didn’t work w/Juree so she’s not going to try w/me. Well, newsflash, I’m NOT Juree. She can be so confident because she knows I could never do anything to hurt her. I want to make her hurt as much as I am but there’s no way I can. “‘Vengeance be mine,” sayeth the Lord.” “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” Quotes–the first from Erica, the second from me. She said so you’re mad at me because I had sex w/my ex-girlfriend? But she didn’t just have sex. She did something so beautiful that nothing could even compare. Erica is still in love with Juree and always will be. I will forever be insignificant in comparison. I can say she’s a cheat and she has no moral fibers but I can never say she was dishonest with me, I can give her that much. All I wanted was the truth and I got it. Even if we do every have sex again it won’t be as good and I can just forget about ever being able to do anything right. She also said that she felt bad afterwords. Yeah, right. And that it “just happened.” Since when do things like sex “just happen”? Dropped dishes just happen, forgotten phone messages just happen but sexual intercourse doesn’t just happen. I can’t even write anymore. I told her I feel like I’ve done something wrong. I feel like haven’t done enough. Juree told Amy that she and Erica didn’t do anything because she didn’t want Amy to beat up on Erica. Why does this shit have to happen to me? Maybe Erica deserves it. I’d like to beat up on Erica. Is Amy so dense that she believes that shit? She’s just as dumb as Juree was when Amy and Erica were fucking. She doesn’t care about me, she only cares about sex and Juree. Then when I said I wasn’t Juree because I have a brain she said I didn’t have to cut on Juree. “Oooh, so sorry,” I said. “Didn’t mean to get you at your heart.” She has said herself that Juree isn’t very smart. It’s O.K. for her though ’cause she loves her and knows you don’t have to be smart to be extraordinary in bed because supposedly Juree is. I’m quite bitter right now but I feel I have every right to be. And she’s not even trying, she doesn’t care about me. She probably would rather that I get the fuck out of her life. I want to get away from here, quick. I don’t want to see her again. She said it was probably the last time she’s see her so she had to have sex with her. So it’s as if that last time was always waiting to happen because the time before that was before Christmas (I think). That probably made it all the better that they got to go back to doing it the way and with the person they had done it every day for over three months. I read an old entry that said Juree was out of the picture, boy am I fucked in the head. Now she says I’m going to keep throwing stuff in her face and not let her forget it. She expects me to do nothing? There’s no way I can hurt her so why not a few sly remarks now and then? It must have been really wonderful for them. Nothing can ever be that good for me. She wanted to show Juree that she had changed, that she didn’t cheat anymore but then she cheated with her so she hasn’t changed much. Why can’t I ever be that special? Is my timing off? Should I have come around before school got out last year? There’s no way I could have known. I really do think I’m numb because I can’t cry, I can’t get real angry, I can’t do anything. I still love her and I don’t know why. I love her so much that it hurts. She says she felt guilty but if she felt bad enough she wouldn’t have done it. But no, it was Juree, she’ll always be better than me. If Erica and I have a rock-solid relationship for the next year and Juree comes back for a visit, Erica will fall in love all over again. She said we didn’t have a healthy relationship anyway because of mistrust and insecurities. She said she could tell me she loves me 10,000 times a day and I still wouldn’t believe her. I do believe she loves me, it’s just that I want her to love me to most, which she can’t do as long as Juree’s still alive. But if she was dead, she would be in love with her ghost. I do trust her. I trusted that if I let someone into my heart that I’d get hurt and I did. She doesn’t want me to go I told you so but I knew something would happen because something always does. She told me she’d never intentionally hurt me but here I am hurt and her intend maybe was to get a good fuck but she knew I’d get hurt in the process.
Saw Erica first thing this morning ’cause she came to 1st period French to see me. She cut the sides and back of her hair. I felt sort of uncomfortable because I thought of what she did. But if she wants things to work out, she’s going to have to try too. I wonder if she noticed that I didn’t have the chain on? But I took it off before she told me herself–it was after Shannon told me that she was over at her house. But when she had to try to fix things up with Jureee, I was part of the problem, I think, even though they had broken up by the time we did anything. But then Juree said I fucked her over because she still might have cared about Erica. But I don’t know if you can stake claim to someone if you’ve broken up. Well, now she’s fucked me over, I supposed we’re even. But I notice it all has to do with Erica and I wonder if she’s worth it.
Here goes — I think I have a crush on Beth G. I had a cute little fantasy about her on Friday. I was touching her thighs which are very muscly and I imagine have blond soft hairs on them. Anyway they were shiny and they felt really nice. She has great cheek bones too. She walked into French and right away she said something about my hair. What am I thinking? Like I’d ever have a chance. But then Erica thought she’s never be able to do anything or ever be with me.
1:37 pm
She has tried to butter me up by telling me I look good. But we do have a lot to talk about. She asked where her chain was and I told her it was in my bag. Then I asked if she wanted it back.
Thanksgiving (Part 1)
Posted on September 04, 2009I met Thanksgiving through Craig’s List. On Thanksgiving 2007.
The previous three Thanksgivings the Ex and I had an orphans’ dinner at our place. Along with the Ex went a lot of my so-called friends. Even if I still had any friends I was unable to keep it together enough to plan and execute a meal, even a potluck. I was a fucking mess.
The few friends I still had were being distant at best. Understandably they didn’t know how to deal with me at the time. Nonetheless one friend, Liz, invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner.
I took a cab over to her house even though it was within walking distance because I had a pumpkin pie and cookies I had made to contribute to the dinner. I arrived at Liz’s house and met the other attendees at the dinner, a married couple.
I was still feeling a lot of shame over having participated in the destruction of my marriage. The couple was nice and told me that they had been married before they married each other, and that I’d get over feeling so shitty about myself.
I, however, was not ready to hear that, or to forgive myself, so I began drinking. A lot.
Of course we ate, but I never got a chance to taste any of the pie or cookies I had brought because I left well before dessert. I was quite drunk, and, according to what Liz told me later, had insisted on walking home. She insisted I take a cab, and put me in one.
Once home I sought the comfort of my computer and lovely Craig’s List. The guy who showed up was about six feet tall, roughly ten years older than me, and kind of dorky. The dork factor came in because he had big ears that stuck out.
We chatted a bit. I think I drank — and spilled — some more wine. We fucked.
The next day Liz called me to make sure I was ok and then gave me a bullshit “you’re too smart and good to be behaving in such a way” speech. I thanked her for inviting me to dinner, apologized for getting too drunk, and told her I knew she was right, but my behavior continued pretty much on the same drunken path.
Apparently Liz thought a speech from her was all that was needed for me to whip myself into shape when I felt like everything was going wrong in my life, the boring details of which I’ll not recount. It was not. So instead of being a supportive, if absentee, friend, Liz later didn’t allow me in her home when she hosted a baby shower for a mutual friend, even after I promised to behave myself. People don’t even serve alcohol at baby showers anyway, right? Out of respect for the mother-to-be? So I wish shitty, shitty things on Liz. I hope life kicks her ass and she has some difficulty dealing with it. Maybe then she’ll have some fucking empathy.
I’m not sure who, how, or why, but Thanksgiving and I kept in occasional contact with each other. He would come over, we’d have sex. Despite his dorky looks he had a nice, thin, body, was just rough enough in bed, and he had a great, big cock. He had amazing stamina and a short refractory period that allowed him to pound away at me for a long time, come, and then pretty quickly do it all over again.
One night he was over when a guy I had just begun seeing called. The guy on the phone was, well, odd. He said he wanted a threesome with me and another guy, I told him Thanksgiving was willing, but he didn’t want to come over, even to just meet. I tried to convince him to come over.
The phone conversation eventually ended up with my phone on the kitchen floor. I was bent over at the waist grabbing the handle to the broiler while Thanksgiving fucked me from behind, nice and hard. The guy listened to Thanksgiving and I fuck for a while. He even commented that we had been going at it for a long time. He still did not come over and things with that guy eventually ended very poorly (and all the facts make me look like a fucking idiot so I’m not sure if I’ll ever write it down).
On another occasion Thanksgiving and I advertised on Craig’s List so we could fuck a heterosexual couple. We were in the mood for instant gratification so our CL listing directed anyone who responded to the ad to send pictures. We weeded through the photos, and then gave Thanksgiving’s cell number to those whom we wanted to voice-verify. We wanted to make sure that there would be an actual lady in the couple who would arrive at my house. We settled on a couple after she and I chatted on the phone for a bit.
The couple that showed up was not exactly as advertised. She did have pretty strawberry blonde hair. She did have lovely, soft, pale skin. But she also had about twenty pounds around her middle that she neglected to mention. Call me shallow, but I think that is something that should be disclosed so all parties are fully-informed.
He did have tattoos. He he did have a cute face. He neglected to mention that he had a tiny peter. Call me shallow, but I think that is something that should be disclosed so all parties are fully-informed.
The guys went outside to smoke while us ladies chit-chatted inside. Then the “couples” (it had been revealed that they were no more a couple than were Thanksgiving and I) talked separately. Thanksgiving told me that the guy was under the impression that the guys were to watch us ladies only.
Thanksgiving and I had placed what we thought was a clear ad. We wanted all four of us to fool around, including the guys. Thanksgiving was willing to forgo cock but I most definitely was not. Pussy is great, I dig it a whole lot, but I wasn’t about to put on a stage show for the two guys.
I swear. True story.
[To be continued, of course.]
