Pool Table

While I would love to share with you the story of how I gave a 45 minute blowjob to a 22 year old because he said no girl has ever made him come via oral sex, I do believe I have more pressing issues.

Date with a hot, tattooed guy in a band - Free
Drinks at the bar where he tends - Free
1:00 am cheeseburger that he cooked - Free
Getting fucked over, on and around bar pool table - Priceless
Leaving your cute panties in the right corner pocket for the next patron - Wait for it...Totally Fucking Priceless

There is something to be said for being pretzel-ed into positions I wasn't even certain my legs would go. On a pool table no less. Err...pool table followed up by the bar floor. Followed by the bar itself.

I have nothing clever, nor funny to say about this. In no uncertain terms, it was Top 5 best sex of my life.

Honestly...I *try* to Keep Up

Trip Report for 4/11/2008 Date

Purpose of Trip:

§Primary Goal of the 4/11/2008 Trip was to meet a nice boy to which a connection might be made in order to facilitate future meetings.

§Secondary Goal – Get Laid

§Tertiary Goal(s) – Dog Sitter, someone fun to go see shows with, meeting a straight man

§

Duration:

9:30pm MST – 1:30am MST

Key Person(s) Contacted on Trip:

§Me

§HFAZ (Hippie from Arizona)

BB BB – via text to report on cock size

§

Places) Visited on Trip:

§HFAZ Apartment

Narrative Summary:

§HFAZ initially invited me to see a band and a local music venue, but said he would be unable to meet me until 9:30/10:00 due to “helping a friend in Boulder”. He was to get tickets to the show after work. Casual flirtation via text message occurred through out the early evening. I received a phone call at aprox. 8pm stating that the show was sold-out. (This is still somewhat suspect) But that we should still go have some cocktails and conversation. I agree to meet him at 9:30 at his place and we would walk to a few of the local bars. He comes out to meet me, looking nothing like his pictures. He has what is best described as a “pear” body. Not very fitting on a boy. Now, let’s face it…I am not Super Model, so I try very hard not to let that cloud my judgment. However, at least I am proportionately large. And truly, if he dressed better, that would be disguised. Also, shorter then his profile states. Cute face. Nice hair. I comment on the cool “loft” feeling of the building and he offers me the tour. We go up to his apartment, very clean, uber-hippieish. He offers me a beer, I accept. We sit on the sofa and proceed to have polite, funny first-date conversation. He tells me that I have an “amazing vibe and a killer smile”. We discuss politics, family, jobs, Telluride, music, drugs and I drink more beer. He tells me his vice is pot and I tell him mine is booze. He asks if I want to smoke, I decline knowing that I would be asleep before I put the bong down. It is about this time that I realize we are not going anywhere. I stand in the kitchen with him while he smokes, we tell more tales of drug use, he tells me I have “amazing breasts”. We sit back on the sofa and he sits next to me. We discuss his family (mom born in Spain, dad born in Mexico) and how he spent several years living in Spain. He tells me he misses the food, I tell him I make a killer paella. He tells me he wants to take me to Cuba Cuba for dinner sometime. He starts holding my hand. We discuss more about his love of all things Colorado and he leans in for the kiss. I kiss him back, not so much out of attraction but more out of being really into his brass balls of thinking he can kiss me. I am a bit out of his league. (this is less mean then it sounds) He tells me what a great kisser I am. I have another beer. I am now growing oddly more attracted to his confidence and that I am highly amused by his hippiness. We make out on the sofa for about an hour. I have another beer. He takes my hand, leads me into his bedroom and I say “we are not having sex”. He takes off my shirt, bra, he claims to be a big fan of my “great tits”. We kiss, he bites my nipples and asks me if he can bite harder. Uhhhh…knees shaking, I say yes. I feel obligated to go for the penis grab and unbutton his pants. Whoa. Soda Can Cock. I play with it and begin to wonder if my desire to have this huge, hunk of man meat in my mouth makes me a slut. I hear Ben’s guiding voice in my head “points, bitch” and decide to make the move. He says “I can’t decided if you kiss better or suck cock better, but I want you to keep doing both”. I go from mouth to cock. He asks me if I like his dick, saying “it’s thick isn’t it”. Oh and delightfully uncircumcised – to which he was highly impressed I knew my way around an un-cut penis. He then begins the hair pulling. And the pushing my head onto his dick. He asks me “do you like your hair pulled?” Quivering I say “yes.” “Do you want me to pull it more?” “uhh…yes.” “You are a dirty little bitch aren’t you?” Oh god…I am screwed now. “I am going to fuck you so hard next time I see you.” Uhhh…. “I am gong to come all over your tits.” And he does. I lay in bed for a bit, decided I need to clean off my chest and head for the bathroom. I get dressed, tell him good night. He says “I will call you next week”. And done.

§

Problems Encountered:

§Hippieness – Too Much Hippie (example: He has followed the band Phish and String Cheese Incident around the Western US)

§Soda Can Cock – Not sure I want that in me. Wait…yes, I do.

§Weird, Disproportionate Pear Body – Unsettling

§Dodgy – He seems slightly on the shady side

§Low Motivation – Smoke pot = never get out of the house

§

Recommended Action:

§Let it be as it was, perhaps follow-up with an email later in the week. Pathetically curious about SCC and the potential power top.

Immediate Action Taken if Any:

§None

§

Final Take-Aways/Grade:

§C+

§Worth the time, not set on a second “date”

§Still looking for someone to see live music with

§

§

It's About Fucking Time !

In the words of one of my most favorite employees "So, you know when you go on vacation and you come home with only a handful of photos taken because you were too busy to snap
pictures" … so goes the life of a budding blogger when she is off having dirty fun.

Just a very quick catch up -->

• OKC (the devil) and I haven’t seen each other in a while, but mostly due to my change of jobs putting me in San Francisco every week. I still have not met his girlfriend although have had several phone conversations. “So how was work today, oh great…oh yeah, I fucked your boyfriend last night…oh yeah, it was good”. Bizarre. I love it. The last time he stopped by he stayed the night. Not sure I like my big, scary top staying the night…

• Chicago broke up with me. How do you tell a girl you are in love with her and less then a month last decide to give up? Weirdness. I guess it is for the best considering the last time I was out there I basically fucked his hot roommate and passed out at his friend’s party only to wake up in his bed with the drummer rubbing my leg up and down asking me if I wanted to do some blow. Might have been a sign. Opps!
  

• Speaking of break ups, the angle broke up with me too. Thank God for small favors. I was concerned with how I was going to deal with that. He met another girl that seems to be living quite happy in an alternate yet equally as boring universe. He did send me a xmas present which shot a millisecond pain of guilt into my heart. Then I was fine.
  

• Stalker. This is a new one. I placed my email address on a furniture’s company website looking for a coffee table. This was about two years ago. Right before xmas I get an email from someone I used to work with seven years ago! We fooled around in my office a few times but never completed. He now comes by when I am home. Makes me breakfast, brings me music. And performs the best oral sex I have ever had. It really is amazing. I come, and I roll over and fall asleep. He can stop by anytime. I wish I was attracted to him. Even remotely. Even just a tiny, tiny bit. Is it okay that I am border line repulsed by him but really enjoy it when his head is buried in-between my legs and he asked nothing from me? That’s okay, right?

• There has been some randomness with a boy that I thought I loved. He spent Thanksgiving with my family and wow, the sex is fantastic. Were together on New Year’s Eve and I gave up a super hot guy from Egypt because I thought it would be inappropriate. Imagine how silly I felt when the boy I thought I loved was getting the phone number of another girl. Damn it! I wonder if my collection of bad karma is finally out grown its container! Son of a!

For the exception of my next two posts, that about catches my faithful readers up on my whorish ways. I am taking a well deserved brake in January!

Date with an Angle/Sex with a Devil

I met a man on Match this past week. We exchanged a few, somewhat dull emails. Stable job, loft downtown, funny, excruciatingly nice. Clearly I will eat him alive. He is 44 yet looks like he is 20. A cubby, Michelangelo figure last seen wearing wings and painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Wait, is that mean? No. I agreed to a date mostly because I miss having someone in DTown that will go to shit-hole clubs to see live music with me as does Chicago.

*side note – Chicago is a regular you have yet to hear about*

There was also the promise of sushi; frankly I had no choice but to say yes.

Simultaneously, I met a man on OKCupid. Also stable job, house in my same neighborhood, funny. We exchanged several long and detailed emails discussing our various sexual conquests. Witty repartee, and biting sarcasm abounded. As did the increasing hardening of my nipples with each email. This man made no secret that he had a girlfriend and a 100% open relationship, the inner workings of which fascinates me endlessly. I bombarded him with questions and was having a most excellent dialog when at one point he writes to me “My girlfriend and I read your last email and were laughing our asses off. Her exact words were – Oh my god, you HAVE to fuck her!”

Umm what? How does that work. Turns out that he shares with her his ‘hunt’ and she was particularly intrigued by my notes. Have I mentioned that this man is a Dom that is also interviewing full-time Subs for playtime *gasp*

Need I mention how ridiculously turned on I was by the thought of him discussing me with her. What is wrong with me…And what bizarre universe have I landed in.

At one point he mentioned her name to me and it did not take me long to locate her profile. Yes, I was curious…so sue me. Little did I know she would check who was “stalking” her and send me a note less then an hour later. She was so flattering and funny and well, down right gracious that I immediately was taken with her, as well. Best line out of an email “we decided that no matter what happens sexually with you and X, we want you in our lives as our friend. You and I can drink wine together; you can fuck X and if he treats you well in bed, he can drink wine with us too”. Wow. In the words of BB – I have landed in my perfect situation. A power top that that can NSA fuck me and a super cool chick that I might actually be able to get along with. I happen to mention my date and what club I will be at with the Cherub and the unmistakable pink coat I would be wearing. Just sayin.

Cherub and I meet at the sushi restaurant. Despite it being less then two blocks from my house, I felt like I needed an out. We had nice, very benign, very ‘first-date-ish’ conversation. He paid for dinner – love that. We head to the club and upon my entry, my senses are on high alert and my heart is pounding as I survey the area trying to catch the eye of any man that resembled my OKCupid Dom. Nothing. Given this, I send Cherub off for cocktails and sit back and enjoy the eye candy.
*who knew there was this many hipster/rockabilly boys in DTown and why the fuck am I not hanging out with them*

During one of the many trips Cherub made to the bar, I feel someone standing behind me. So close that I can feel breath on my neck. A hand moves my hair away from my ear and says “Your date is boring”. I smile. Predictably my nipples instantly become rock hard. “How long have you been standing there?” “Long enough for me to know your date is boring.” I whimper. Now given how many stranger danger situations I get myself into, I am only 75% sure this is OKC. As Cherub approaches with a drink for me, the strangers says “I like your coat”. And I know it’s him.

While I enjoyed the drinking and the bands, he seemed to delight in ensuring I knew of his presence. A brush of a hand across my arm. Fingers pressed into the small of my back as he walked behind me. A breath on my neck. Anything he could get away with. Needless to say, I was dripping wet. The show goes on and towards the end, I lose track of him. Cherub and I walk out and I start to think that I cannot get home to masturbate fast enough. Cherub returns me to my car, a few hugs, a kiss on the cheek and an invitation to a movie and I was speeding the blocks to my home.

I crashed through the front door, shedding clothes as I leaped into my bed and grabbed my trusty vibrator. I just get comfortable when I hear the telltale jingle of a text message. “What is your address, I want to fuck you”. Ahhhh….the evening has just begun.

Without saying a word, he enters my home, takes hold of me and proceeds to kiss me. He tosses me on my sofa and attacks my neck, my nipples, my lips. He pinches at me, prods his fingers into me, all the while the only words are “do you like it”. Finally he asks “do you want me to fuck you?” I am not sure how audible my agreement was, but he must have gotten the point. “Then strip and get on your knees!” Uhhhh… Imagine if you will, a cross between a kitten sighing and a moan and the sound a starving man makes when presented with a juicy, medium rare fillet. I waste no time getting out of my clothes and he wastes none pushing me down on the hardwood floor and shoving his cock in me. Oh my… “Do you like that you little whore?” “For such a slut you sure are tight.” Slap on the back of my ass. Hair pulled. Teeth bearing into my back and ass. “I am going to fuck your tight hole.” Slap, pull, bite.

*wait, am I having sex with BB…no no*

Two and a half hours and several orgasms later, he announces he must go home. When questioned about what I am doing the next day, I say that I am spending it with my nephew and he suddenly morphs into the Avon Lady. “Oh that is great! He is nine, right? Oh they are so fun at that age. Wow, I really like your place. Thanks for having me over. Call me next week when you are in town. Bye”

Okay…what just happened. And how to I ensure it happens again.

Sushi dinner, zero dollars. Tickets to a great band, zero dollars. Cocktails at a hip club, zero dollars. Getting fucked by a guy you picked up while on a date with someone else, POINTS!

Jesus Christ - Someone please disable my OK Cupid Account. NOW!

The Disneyland ride sexuality Test

Your Score: Thunder Mountain

42 Speed, 49 Bizarreness, 76 Roughness

You are Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, and baby hold on tight; This here's the wildest ride in the wilderness. Dude, you are out of control like a mine car. You're whipping from side to side, dropping, swinging, curving... You are all over the place. Chances are you go through beds on a regular basis. Everyone wants to ride you, but not everyone can handle you, and chances are that they won't come back that often... unless they like a little chaotic old west action.

You scored higher than 28% on Speed

You scored higher than 80% on Bizarreness

You scored higher than 98% on Roughness

The Fourth Circle of Hell or Five Days in Lexington, Choose!

What started out as a laughable flight into Atlanta turned into Grade A Blog fodder when I discovered that my tiny, tiny airplane from Atlanta to Lexington was me, a man on business with Lexmark and the ENTIRE U of K women’s soccer team. I immediately starting texting my compatriots to alert them of my predicament. One suggested a porn movie in the making, I countered with a horror movie and Chicago promptly messaged back a porn/zombie movie – now that I could be ummm…behind.

My patience for bubbling, giggle prone, vapid Barbie dolls (even if they play sports) wore thin in Jr High, let alone as I grow older and more bitter but after the third of fourth time of hearing the word “fag”, it was all I could do to stay sitting with my seat belt fastened. “You are being a fag” “Stop acting like a fag”. Eh…so ugly coming from these girls who would never in a million years say “nigger” on an airplane or anywhere else, I hope. I decided to let it go, but the more I thought about it, the more I was unable to give them a pass. I took the media blitz route and sent an email to all the Lexington media (newspaper, tv) as well as all the LGBT organizations in Lex and about 45 people at the university. And I waited…and waited…I received one response from a TV guy that suggesting if I “felt strongly enough about it…contact the school”. Finally a response from someone that works for the athletic director. We had a nice chat, said she would look into it and get back with me. And I wait.

My week out of town left me unfulfilled, to say the least. Craig’s List contained nothing but, well…nothing. My saving grace is bringing back affirmative proof that Lexington is not the place for me. Even if I was dead.

~Enjoy~

What ever happened to just having the stupid little Garfield cat suctioned to your car window?

Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell else would you go about getting a tattoo? This one picture was worth my trip. Brilliant.

Washington D.C. Debrief – So to Speak

The 2007 Out & Equal Conference (an organization committed to equality in the workplace, specifically concentration on the GLBT constituency). This is an organization that I am extremely dedicated to, however the ancillary benefits include a tremendous amount of drinking with hot, gay boys and crab cakes. It’s a good thing.

The gay boys were beautiful, the drinking was top notch, the crab cakes were lumpy and the conference was extraordinary.

I quickly, love-at-first-site-like, fell for Seattle (tall, expertly tussled hair, gorgeous) and Joey (as in cute and little, like a baby kangaroo). I immediately made a note to make them mine. Eight hours later, Joey and I were drunk as skunks. I had him fully enrolled in the Sex for Points program and neither of us could stop talking about Seattle.

I worked the conference for some hot girl-on-girl action…it really is a shame that the lipstick lesbians or the hot bi girls are not more politically active. Alas, girl had NO game with the bi boys either, as there were way too many cute boys for them to play with. Seattle, I am talking to YOU.

Seattle and Joey had some mad chemistry that had me climbing the walls. Especially given the amount of booze I had ingested. Thankfully I had Bob (never leave home without him) to help cure the ache. Is it too much to ask just to let me watch, good lord?

My BFF also flew in to meet me and my new boys. He has a fabulous D.C. tour guide that is so alarmingly beautiful that I could not stop staring at him.

More drinking, more boys, lots of site-seeing, Drag Queen Brunch, pandas and the BFF. Really, what more does a girl need.

Week Points Winner – Joey, huge score with the friend of a friend hook-up

New Alternate Reality – Have Seattle’s boyfriend’s baby (what is cuter then a chunky, freckly, red-headed baby?), move to Seattle and live in a wing of their house, run a non-profit.

Near Orgasm Moment – (Tie) Joey discussing with us how his fantasy job is a Supreme Court Judge so he can “be paid to think”. Intellectualism is beyond hot. Seattle telling me and BFF about his wife and his best friend. My panties are still wet.