Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.No, I Did Not Change His Name
Posted on December 04, 2009[Another OkCupid adventure. Please note the time stamps, which jump around a bit for clarity's sake. As far as I was concerned we had a perfectly pleasant exchange, agreed to meet at a certain place at a certain time, and then out of the blue he canceled.
If he just canceled without the "virtual communication style" lameness I'd've been more than fine. I called him on his bullshit and he became insulting (though it could certainly be argued that my characterization of him as "weak" was the first blow).
This is the entirety of our communication so I am still confounded. By the way, I'm out of printer paper so I did not bother printing up his message and shoving it up my fat ass.]
(9:43:31 am)FromOCtoSF:hey there
(9:46:43 am)FromOCtoSF:I would love to buy you a drink
(9:46:53 am)FromOCtoSF:what neighborhood do you live in?
(9:48:12 am)ShazamSF:The Mission.
(9:48:23 am)FromOCtoSF:when were you thinking?
(9:49:10 am)ShazamSF:Tomorrow during the day or next week, the time of which I cannot now tell you since I don’t have my work schedule yet.
(9:50:22 am)FromOCtoSF:I am out of town next week, but can meet in the later afternoon tomorrow, wahts your name?
(9:51:12 am)ShazamSF:Depends on how late in the afternoon.
(9:51:35 am)FromOCtoSF:4pm
(9:51:53 am)ShazamSF:That might work. Where?
(9:52:07 am)FromOCtoSF:daves on 3rd?
(9:56:31 am)ShazamSF:ok
(9:56:49 am)FromOCtoSF:whats your name?
(9:58:05 am)ShazamSF:You seem to think that’s important. Suzanne.
(9:58:31 am)FromOCtoSF:HI Suzanne, I’m Sean, and yes I think a lot
(9:59:02 am)ShazamSF:So I’ll see you tomorrow. Out front?
(9:59:30 am)FromOCtoSF:sure, I would love to. you know where it is?
(9:59:43 am)ShazamSF:Yeah, I’ve been there once before.
(9:59:51 am)ShazamSF:I think.
(10:00:02 am)FromOCtoSF:its between Market and Mission on 3rd
(10:00:35 am)ShazamSF:Across from one of the many Westins, right?
(10:00:46 am)FromOCtoSF:right
(10:04:01 am)FromOCtoSF:that was easy, you seem amiable enough
(10:08:19 am)ShazamSF:Are most people that try online “dating” sites assholes?
(10:08:30 am)ShazamSF:Why would I sign up if I didn’t want to meet people?
(10:10:08 am)FromOCtoSF:great point
(10:11:10 am)FromOCtoSF:have you met a lot of people from OKC?
(10:14:24 am)ShazamSF:Four: http://www.randomrimjobs.com/2009/12/02/okcupid-not-greatcupid/
(10:17:48 am)FromOCtoSF:oh my god you may be perfect
(10:19:23 am)ShazamSF:I wish.
(10:20:06 am)ShazamSF:Damn, now I can only disappoint you.
(10:20:35 am)FromOCtoSF:nope, I think we will get along just fine
(10:22:56 am)ShazamSF:Keeping my fingers crossed.
(10:23:00 am)ShazamSF:See you tomorrow.
(10:24:43 am)FromOCtoSF:are you leaving?
(10:27:57 am)FromOCtoSF:I could read your blog all day, but you better change my name in it
ShazamSF: Unless their names are extremely common (i.e. Michael) or they’re no longer in my life I give my guys nicknames.
(2:04:13 pm)FromOCtoSF:youre too much, you know that?
(2:04:18 pm)FromOCtoSF:who reads your blog?
(2:04:41 pm)ShazamSF:Probably mostly people who follow me on Twitter.
(2:06:04 pm)FromOCtoSF:how many twitter people do you have following you?
(2:06:47 pm)ShazamSF:About 1700.
(2:06:58 pm)FromOCtoSF:LOL
(2:07:01 pm)FromOCtoSF:thats funny
(2:07:34 pm)ShazamSF:Why?
(2:07:46 pm)FromOCtoSF:cause I thought it would be like 200
(2:08:07 pm)ShazamSF:I don’t knwo if I should be insulted.
(2:08:11 pm)ShazamSF:know
(2:08:41 pm)FromOCtoSF:no, you shouldnt be. Im just not a big twitter guy, so I assume it would be something like facebook
(2:10:02 pm)ShazamSF:Huh?
(2:10:21 pm)ShazamSF:You’ve never used Twitter so you think it’s the same as Facebook?
(2:19:12 pm)FromOCtoSF:I just guessed that you wouldnt have a bunch of people following you if you werent directly and regularly connected to them
(11:24 pm)ShazamSF: You must not understand how Twitter works. And you’re judging me based on the number of Twitter followers I have?!
(8:02 am)FromOCtoSF: I dont judge, it wasnt a judgement it was my lack of understanding.
You have some real probelms.
(10:09 am)ShazamSF: Still confused as to how you can determine that I have problems considering you’ve never met me and don’t want to do so.
Please, oh wise one, tell me how to make myself better so that I may please you.
(2:20 pm)FromOCtoSF: Hi Suzanne,
I think I am going to cancel tomorrow. I dont think the way we communicate virtually is laying the groundwork for a good personal interaction, so I am going to say good luck to you and be well.
Take care,
Sean
(11:17 pm)ShazamSF: Thanks for letting me know.
But I’m not really sure what the fuck you are talking about. I don’t need a lame-ass excuse – you could have just canceled.
I think (and I really don’t need you to confirm or deny this) you read my blog and got freaked the fuck out for some reason. That’s fine. The weak are not my type.
(8:01 am)FromOCtoSF: Actually no, your blog was actually pretty hot, it wasnt that at all, but from your response you are obviously lacking in any tact at all. You are abrupt, rude, crass (not in an endearing way), and matter of fact.
And while I dont mind whores, I don’t date bitches.
I find it particularly telling that I cancelled with an amount of kindness and the first thing you reply with is an insult. You know what, fuck you.
There is a difference between weak and discerning, but from the sound of your blog, you have no idea what discerning is so here is the definition:
to distinguish mentally; recognize as distinct or different; discriminate.
So why dont you print this email out, roll it up really tight, and shove it up your fat ass?
(10:07am)ShazamSF: I’m not even sure between our IMs and messages (until this last one) when you think I was too matter-of-fact, which, by the way, cuts through the bullshit.
I believe you described me as “perfect” at one point.
But thanks for the material.
April 18, 1991, 9:05pm: A Diary Entry
Posted on December 03, 2009Just got off the phone with Erica. Yep, she called me, finally. She’s bumming around with Michelle and them. She said, “I’ve finally found someone who equals if not surpasses you in bed.” Should I be worried? Should I care? I do sort of but not as much as I could. She said she’s still getting over me and still talks about how gorgeous I am. I told her I’d rather not have her come visit me ’cause we’d just have sex. She was so surprised that I didn’t really want to. I told her about Rachel. She got quite jealous. I feel so evil because the only reason (at first) I had sex with Rachel was because I wanted to finally do something Erica hadn’t, finally make her jealous, to be better than her. But I used a very sweet, innocent little girl to “get back” at someone who had never intentionally actually tried to make me feel the way I felt for so long. Now I think I’m much better – more sure of myself – more of a complete person unto myself.
OkCupid, not GreatCupid
Posted on December 02, 2009I have now met four guys in person from OkCupid.
At my advanced age and due to my significant experience I’ve come to the conclusion that it is definitely true that I know within about 30 seconds whether I’ll fuck a guy. Sometimes it’s even less.
The first guy I met through OkCupid was nice enough to drive up from San Jose to meet. I made it clear that I couldn’t host. We met in front of a bar of my choosing. He was tall and looked like he could be thin under the sloppy clothes. And behind the beard he looked cute.
We went inside where we had a few drinks and talked. I really like that feeling of being “on” and getting the distinct impression that I’m charming the guy. I think that was the case with that guy.
We made our way to my building where I showed him my stairwell. A stairwell in which I’ve fucked a couple of other guys. I don’t know if the knowledge of the other guys scared him, or just being in what was to him a random stairwell, but his cock did not get hard. I tried. I sucked on that thing.
We went in my apartment where the Ex was watching television. The three of us hung out for a bit. Then the guy left, and we’ve had one text exchange since saying we need to fuck.
The next guy I met in a bar of his choosing in my neighborhood. He bought me one drink. I talked. He was cute in a completely different way from the first guy. Though I talked he didn’t seem to have much to say to me. Uh, ok. I excused myself to use the restroom; he excused himself from the bar.
On my walk home I texted him that our meeting was a fucking disaster. He agreed. He said I didn’t seem too into it. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to show my interest; I think he wanted me to present in the animal sense of the word, like a dog or a baboon.
The same night I met the Ex and another friend at another bar and vowed never to meet a guy again at Elbo Room, where I had had another disastrous meeting in the past. I had a few drinks with the Ex and our friend, the whole time continuing to text the guy from earlier in the evening.
Our texts began to negotiate what we wanted. I said I didn’t need a conversationalist, but at least a conversation. But I was also horny. Finally we negotiated that he would pick me up in his car where I’d play with my pussy, we’d go back to his place, we’d not kiss, he’d fuck my ass, and then he’d pay for my cab home.
Which is exactly what happened. It was dirty and hot. He mistreated me in a way I really seem to like. No, I wouldn’t want that all the time, but yes, I like a guy to disregard my feelings every once in a while. He talked at me, not to me. He told me what to do. He said he didn’t care if I came, which, at the time made my pussy wet. Not that he knew, since he had nothing to do with my pussy.
After he fucked my ass, which must’ve really gotten him going because it didn’t take him long to come at all, he said I did a good job, which gave me a little thrill, the pleasing him. Yes, I do need to be treated like shit sometimes. Yes, I want him to fuck my ass again. No, I do not have any interest in “getting to know” him.
The third guy I met at a bar. He was there when I arrived. He had a beer. I sat down. We chatted. He was cute enough, if a little boring. I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I returned. He never offered me a drink. I took a cue from the prior guy (the ass fucker) and took my leave. I should not have to ask for a drink, dammit. I never even bothered to text or email that guy.
The fourth guy I met in a bar. He was cute. He offered me a drink. We had what I thought was a decent conversation. I had to go to an engagement, the nature of which I explained to him. We parted amicably. He said he would “definitely” be in contact but I’m honestly not all that sure.
I just want people to be honest with me, and I’ll do the same.
I’ve been mid-fuck with guys who say they want to fuck again but then never contacted me. It would have been so much better if they just fucked me and didn’t talk about “the future.”
I’m hoping for more OkCupid luck; I’m meeting six new OkCupid people in the next four days.
I swear. True story.
Alameda Guy (Part 3)
Posted on December 01, 2009[Continued from "Alameda Guy (Part 2)."]
We saw each other when we could, which wasn’t often considering on many weekends he was in charge of his kids. We talked about getting our dogs together for a play date but nothing came of the talks.
One time he came over with his overnight bag, which wasn’t unusual since he had spent the night several times before. But that particular night was different because he had a harness and a dildo in his bag.
Of course we had talked about me fucking his ass many times before, but had never had the equipment to do so. But that night he had planned for it to happen.
After he showed me the goods I made him leave my bedroom so I could put on the harness in privacy. There is not much more awkward than putting on a new harness for a strap-on and I certainly did not want him watching my clumsy attempts.
I felt like I should have had a certain amount of confidence if I was to be fucking his ass. Which I did. Fuck his ass. There is something so so nice about the look of ecstasy on a man’s face when something is in his ass.
However, I was a tad disappointed at the size of the dildo. Alameda Guy had supplied it, and we had previously discussed that he should be comfortable with the size of whatever went in his ass, but I’m a size queen and truly do think bigger is better.
Especially if I’m the one with the cock. I’m pretty sure if I was a man I’d have a big cock. This is partially due to fantasy and partially due to what my mother told me.
My mother was always what’s called an oversharer. I recall she would often tell people some very intimate things when she first met them. (No, it hasn’t escaped my notice that this could be considered oversharing.) Her sharing was to the point that it made others uncomfortable, only I didn’t realize it when I was a child since I didn’t know anything else.
By the time I was in my late teens I had figured it out. When I was in my early twenties I accepted it. When I was 23 she and I took a trip to Arizona to go to DJ’s wedding. (DJ was one of my mother’s exes.) DJ lived several hours’ drive outside of Phoenix in the White Mountains.
During that drive Mom and I got to talking about life and sex and stuff. I had known since I was quite young that my mother and my father married because my mother was pregnant with my sister, and that four years later my mother got my dad drunk on a camping trip with the specific intent of conceiving me. The night we drove into the White Mountains she told me that she got pregnant the first time she and my father had sex, and that she had conceded to sex with him because he kept his hands off her tits when she told him to do so.
She also told me that he was well endowed. If only I could un-know that knowledge! I don’t want to know about my father’s penis in any way. But I do, so I know if I were a boy I’d probably have a big cock.
The night with Alameda Guy I had an incredibly average cock. I really didn’t feel like it was me. Nonetheless, I persevered and fucked his ass good and hard.
Then, when I still had my cock in place, Alameda Guy fucked my pussy. That was extra hot. There was this thing in the way between us but he was still putting his cock in my pussy. I liked that a whole lot.
And so did he. Until the dildo broke. Since “my” cock was still hard (since it couldn’t be any other way) the pressure from being sandwiched between our bodies broke the dildo off at the base. I felt bad, but we still had a lot of fun.
[To be continued ….]
I swear. True story.
