Been a while since I read anything decent. It always helps me find my own voice, my own tone; makes things flow better.
Hard to decide what to do here. Play guitar? Read? Make connections with the other nite shift people? Not really anyone here, but there are people at other hotels doing the same job with the same level of boredom. Of course, that may mean I call up some little old lady or, even worse, some middle-aged, balding man with bad hygeine.
But what if? What if instead the sexy day-shift girl decides to pop into the bar for 30 min and hang out in the back room for a few. One minute you're awkwardly talking about work and the next her pants are pulled off and you are putting her bare, skinny ass on the desk in the back room while she fumbles with your zipper. Her breath comes in short bursts with hints of black licorice and cigarette smoke. Off-white khakis slip down to cover well polished ebony dress shoes as she pulls out and strokes your dog first over hand, then underhand like she's trying do guage the weight by feel.
You hook your arms behind her knees and pull her closer to the edge of the cheap, Walmart particle board desk. You push forward and she makes that gaping mouthed, pinched forhead look that can only mean one thing. All you can hear are soft moans and the steady drone of Fox news out in the lobby, but the blood pumping in your ears muffles both.
Its a hot moment that neither of you expected 15 minutes ago, but there's no turning back now. Her thin fingers press into you back and against the nape of your neck. Her pussy wrenches down on your cock and she whispers "oh Fuck" in your ear. Her moans change into quick, ragged breathing as you pound away. You know that the thin laminating on the edge of the desk split apart years ago and has to be pinching her ass or the back of her legs, but she either doesn't feel it or doesn't care. She just grips you harder as she begins to cum.
Then there's the slutty girl that winks at u as she checks in. She's 'away' for the weekend and wants to get laid in every state along the way. She comes up to the desk after dark all low v-necks and makeup. She makes a point to laugh at ur jokes just to make u stare at her bouncing cleavage. Moves in close so you can smell her sweet, over strong perfume.
She's the polar opposite of the first girl. A little chunky, cute face and full, soft breasts. She knows exactly what she's doing tonite and you know she's gonna call for extra towels and answer the door in a night-shirt.
You learn things about people that you will never forget. The slutty girl loves doggie style with a thumb in her ass and has her hood pierced. While the girl from first shift is a full-on squirter and doesn't remember anything when she drinks.
Every time you see her you picture the face she makes when she cums. You see it when you stare at her perfectly shaped ass as she leaves at the end of her shift, when she bends over to get the orange cleaner out of the bottom cabinet, as you're hair drying your sopping wet 'get lucky' boxers in the closest available hotel room before you go home for the day.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Peanut Butter Blowjob and Sonic Fellatio
Whenever you start an intimate relationship with someone, at least one with a lot of sex involved, you tend to start to branch out. Try new things, new positions, sometimes with new people in addition to the current ones. The first night you have her in a missionary position and next thing you know she wants to use her 10 speed Jack Rabbit vibrator on you because of some "eye for an eye" rule. These are the types of things I like to avoid. If you're already having this conversation then it's too late. If every time she licks your balls she moves a bit lower, it's too late. As a matter of fact, if you've already put your thumb up her butt while riding her doggy style don't bother sleeping at her place. Get out while you can. Otherwise you may find yourself stuck in a week long sex deprived conversation about "what can go where".
In this case, though, it was nothing like that. This was purely about compatibility. Basically Snow Bunny and I have about the same amount of experience when it comes to sex. It's a very important thing to know about your partner. I always try to ask the same stuff because of past relationships: Do you have Asthma? Are there a lot of heart problems in your family? Have you ever worn a strap-on to fuck another woman in the ass? Lesbians are only cool until you find out you dated the "Man" of the relationship.
Also, It's always important to make sure that you don't start off with anything too kinky unless you know each other pretty well. That's how we ended up at the peanut butter blow job conversation. For the record I have to say that this is definitely better than the "What can go where" conversation, and a lot shorter, so I must be doing something right.
There are also some caveats when you start doing crazier things in crazier places. For example, when your girlfriend almost bites the head off your dick while waiting for food to be delivered at a Sonic drive in you learn that no matter how baggy your jeans are they will always rub against the sore spot as you walk. In her defense the carhop snuck up on both of us.
It's at this point that you have to really start getting creative. It starts to change the way you look at things. I rarely have any tooth pain, but I always keep a vial of Anbesol in my medicine cabinet specifically for bite marks and braces. Tiger balm will sooth sore leg muscles when you cramp up in the car while cumming in a girl's mouth driving down the highway. Also, I now make sure that I always have one of those mini Maglites close by. The ones that take AA batteries are just the right size. Longer than a finger, but not so big as that they look at your dick and choose the flashlight instead. They're perfect for raising the kink level for those "elusive orgasm" girls.
It used to be that before I would go out for a night of drinking I would listen to some up-beat rock song from Disturbed, Drowning Pool or the like, but now it's more like "Back Door Man" by The Doors or "Little Red Riding Hood" by Sam the Sham and The Pharoes.
Overall, I think it pays to see things differently from time to time. You never know when you will be at the hardware store and see a girl buying a mini Maglite without any batteries and before you know it, your weekend is booked.
In this case, though, it was nothing like that. This was purely about compatibility. Basically Snow Bunny and I have about the same amount of experience when it comes to sex. It's a very important thing to know about your partner. I always try to ask the same stuff because of past relationships: Do you have Asthma? Are there a lot of heart problems in your family? Have you ever worn a strap-on to fuck another woman in the ass? Lesbians are only cool until you find out you dated the "Man" of the relationship.
Also, It's always important to make sure that you don't start off with anything too kinky unless you know each other pretty well. That's how we ended up at the peanut butter blow job conversation. For the record I have to say that this is definitely better than the "What can go where" conversation, and a lot shorter, so I must be doing something right.
There are also some caveats when you start doing crazier things in crazier places. For example, when your girlfriend almost bites the head off your dick while waiting for food to be delivered at a Sonic drive in you learn that no matter how baggy your jeans are they will always rub against the sore spot as you walk. In her defense the carhop snuck up on both of us.
It's at this point that you have to really start getting creative. It starts to change the way you look at things. I rarely have any tooth pain, but I always keep a vial of Anbesol in my medicine cabinet specifically for bite marks and braces. Tiger balm will sooth sore leg muscles when you cramp up in the car while cumming in a girl's mouth driving down the highway. Also, I now make sure that I always have one of those mini Maglites close by. The ones that take AA batteries are just the right size. Longer than a finger, but not so big as that they look at your dick and choose the flashlight instead. They're perfect for raising the kink level for those "elusive orgasm" girls.
It used to be that before I would go out for a night of drinking I would listen to some up-beat rock song from Disturbed, Drowning Pool or the like, but now it's more like "Back Door Man" by The Doors or "Little Red Riding Hood" by Sam the Sham and The Pharoes.
Overall, I think it pays to see things differently from time to time. You never know when you will be at the hardware store and see a girl buying a mini Maglite without any batteries and before you know it, your weekend is booked.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Motivated and twisted
Every time I'm in a room with motivational pictures I have to check them out. At least scan over them.
The thought of "What would you really do if you could get away with it?" has been in my mind for several years. It's the classic Invisible Man story. If I was truly invisible I would hang out at the Playboy mansion and porn sets. I would stay in college dorms and watch some slutty coed finger herself every night. But, even without the invisibility this is a very dangerous concept. What if you are just very convincing and good at multitasking? What if you are really good at making things happen the way you want them to? What if you were able to balance having a wife and a girlfriend at the same time without either of them knowing about the other? That's where my moral compass starts spinning in circles like a top.
I don't feel like I'm necessarily good at, or even have what it takes, to balance a wife and a girlfriend, but I do feel like I have exceptionally good luck. I have been able to balance two girls at once and I loved it, but I have never been able to decide if it is something that I SHOULD do. In one hand, there really isn't anything that says I can't have two girls at once, but it was never mentioned that I could either. On the other hand, I shouldn't pass up a perfectly good opportunity. I know that they wouldn't be happy if they found out about each other, but right now they are both elated and joyful.
One instance in particular comes to mind. I was dating this girl who was incredibly smart and insightful, but wasn't very social. I could tell that I made her very happy. I was once very anti-social and I remember what it was like to finally have someone. It's the best thing in the world. You gain so much confidence overnight it's unbelievable. I got her out of the house more often and she was able to realize that she had a lot to contribute to society; that many people were interested in what she had to say. I got her to come out of her shell so everyone else could see what I saw in her. I loved to hang out with her because she was able to teach me things and we could talk about complex ideas with ease.
Unfortunately, though I'm one step away from being a sex addict and we weren't on the same level in that respect. So I found another girl to fill that gap. She wanted sex all the time because all she had ever had was bad sex. Believe it or not, the kind of sex that they have in pornos is not good sex, it just looks good on camera. Sex, in my opinion, is the only thing I'm good at. It's the only thing in my life that I've been told multiple times I'm good at, so I did what I could for her. After a while of 'getting to know each other', she didn't feel like she needed sex 10 times a day anymore. Just good sex every other day. She turned off her webcam and started to learn things on her computer that didn't have anything to do with lining up another guy for a weekend fling.
After a while, the smart girl and I broke up on good terms. We had fun, but the relationship just wasn't going anywhere. Since then though, she has kept her confidence and has been talking to other guys in situations that she previously would've passed up. The other girl was Snow Bunny. We still have fun on a regular basis and she is still learning about computers
I'm not going to say that things always turn out for the better, or that there are no downsides to the things that I've done, but all these posters speak of action; of believing in yourself and trying things even if you don't know if you'll succeed.
My current theme, though, is "What you want and what you need are two different things." I want Avril Lavigne, a modern day Marilyn Monroe and both the girls from Tatu in my own personal harem, but I need a girl who is not too pretty or too rich so that she knows what it is like to struggle and not have things handed to her at every turn. I would have to say that this is definitely the biggest reason I'm happier with two girls at once. My ideal girl is a contradiction in and of herself. There's a better chance of a horse growing a horn or wings.
"How many of these would get me into trouble?" I think to myself.
The first one is OPPORTUNITY: "Don't wait for extraordinary opportunities." It says. "Seize common occasions and make them great." All I can think of is that the girl giving the tour is really hot. She has an ass that you could bounce quarters off of. Fifteen minutes in a closet with her at the end of the tour would make this a great occasion. One to write about. Definitely.
Their poster shows a basketball on the floor of a gym. Not too far from the basket, just waiting to be thrown. Mine, I think, would be a little different. Something you would see in the changing room of a strip club next to the mirrors. OPPORTUNITY: "If they aren't horny, make them horny!" In the picture there would be a screenshot from some Yahoo messenger clone with two conversations going on at once. One is with his wife. She says that she is going to be out of town this weekend. The other is with a girl from work saying that she wants to hang out sometime. The reply to the girl has yet to be sent, but says "How about Saturday?"
The next one is DARE TO DREAM: "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!" It has the standard crescent moon and stars just behind a spindly looking tree. Again, mine would look a lot different. There's actually a poster from Demotivational.com that is not too far off the mark. It shows a guy playing his xbox naked while this hot, also naked girl, is bouncing up and down in his lap. Personally, I would give up the xbox for another girl or two but I think it's close enough.
I follow the tour guide out of the room and I notice another poster out in the hall. I peel my eyes away from the ass she's hiding under her beige miniskirt long enough to read TEAMWORK: "Work together towards a common vision!" A bunch of dudes in a boat is the last thing I want to see, so I picture another girl helping me with the tour guide in the closet. Then I will help the tour guide with getting the other girl off. Seems like a fair trade to me.
Even with these wall-to-wall posters I can't help but think that there are some very important ones that are missing. They aren't necessarily motivational, but they're still integral slogans for my day-to-day decisions.
The thought of "What would you really do if you could get away with it?" has been in my mind for several years. It's the classic Invisible Man story. If I was truly invisible I would hang out at the Playboy mansion and porn sets. I would stay in college dorms and watch some slutty coed finger herself every night. But, even without the invisibility this is a very dangerous concept. What if you are just very convincing and good at multitasking? What if you are really good at making things happen the way you want them to? What if you were able to balance having a wife and a girlfriend at the same time without either of them knowing about the other? That's where my moral compass starts spinning in circles like a top.
I don't feel like I'm necessarily good at, or even have what it takes, to balance a wife and a girlfriend, but I do feel like I have exceptionally good luck. I have been able to balance two girls at once and I loved it, but I have never been able to decide if it is something that I SHOULD do. In one hand, there really isn't anything that says I can't have two girls at once, but it was never mentioned that I could either. On the other hand, I shouldn't pass up a perfectly good opportunity. I know that they wouldn't be happy if they found out about each other, but right now they are both elated and joyful.
One instance in particular comes to mind. I was dating this girl who was incredibly smart and insightful, but wasn't very social. I could tell that I made her very happy. I was once very anti-social and I remember what it was like to finally have someone. It's the best thing in the world. You gain so much confidence overnight it's unbelievable. I got her out of the house more often and she was able to realize that she had a lot to contribute to society; that many people were interested in what she had to say. I got her to come out of her shell so everyone else could see what I saw in her. I loved to hang out with her because she was able to teach me things and we could talk about complex ideas with ease.
Unfortunately, though I'm one step away from being a sex addict and we weren't on the same level in that respect. So I found another girl to fill that gap. She wanted sex all the time because all she had ever had was bad sex. Believe it or not, the kind of sex that they have in pornos is not good sex, it just looks good on camera. Sex, in my opinion, is the only thing I'm good at. It's the only thing in my life that I've been told multiple times I'm good at, so I did what I could for her. After a while of 'getting to know each other', she didn't feel like she needed sex 10 times a day anymore. Just good sex every other day. She turned off her webcam and started to learn things on her computer that didn't have anything to do with lining up another guy for a weekend fling.
After a while, the smart girl and I broke up on good terms. We had fun, but the relationship just wasn't going anywhere. Since then though, she has kept her confidence and has been talking to other guys in situations that she previously would've passed up. The other girl was Snow Bunny. We still have fun on a regular basis and she is still learning about computers
I'm not going to say that things always turn out for the better, or that there are no downsides to the things that I've done, but all these posters speak of action; of believing in yourself and trying things even if you don't know if you'll succeed.
My current theme, though, is "What you want and what you need are two different things." I want Avril Lavigne, a modern day Marilyn Monroe and both the girls from Tatu in my own personal harem, but I need a girl who is not too pretty or too rich so that she knows what it is like to struggle and not have things handed to her at every turn. I would have to say that this is definitely the biggest reason I'm happier with two girls at once. My ideal girl is a contradiction in and of herself. There's a better chance of a horse growing a horn or wings.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Welcome Back, Me!
Been a long time. Way too long. Can't expect a milestone once a week, but can't think I dropped off the face of the earth either. I think from here on it's gonna be shorter posts, but more often.
As for today, I'm reflecting. Got a couple things to say. First off, I didn't start drinking until after I turned 21. I have fun when I drink, but I don't know if i remember having much fun before I turned 21... everything had such bad consequences. This year I had a few incidents that made me not want to drink again and I went quite a while not drinking because of them, but recently I've decided to pick it up again. Ironically, I feel that the Skyy vodka helps create stability in my life. Finally I can sleep well again and feel reset, if a little hungover, the next day. I actually feel like going out and doing things after drinking instead of staying home and drinking again.
Secondly, I think drinking makes me do crazy things. For some reason, when I drink I think I can pull off anything. James Bond has nothing by comparison. I feel like the mental equivalent of McGyver. Funny thing is, so far everything has worked out in the manner I had hoped for when I was drunk. I feel like I'm abusing Murphy's Law or something. Everything that I expect to go wrong doesn't. How the fuck does that happen? I've been in an orgy, a three-some, had a one night stand while my girlfriend is away, had a full-time mistress and two girlfriends at once. The whole time I kept waiting for it to all fall down around me, but it has yet to happen. There are always a few slightly negative parts to the goodness like being late for work and exhausted or hungover or even the pain of denial, but it's all turned out ok so far. I'm 100% amazed at what has already happened and continue to expect 100% failure at every turn.
At this point I can't go into too much detail because of my own Statute of Limitations, but there is definitely more to come in the future. Not to mention posts that have been started, but not polished to my standards yet.
As for today, I'm reflecting. Got a couple things to say. First off, I didn't start drinking until after I turned 21. I have fun when I drink, but I don't know if i remember having much fun before I turned 21... everything had such bad consequences. This year I had a few incidents that made me not want to drink again and I went quite a while not drinking because of them, but recently I've decided to pick it up again. Ironically, I feel that the Skyy vodka helps create stability in my life. Finally I can sleep well again and feel reset, if a little hungover, the next day. I actually feel like going out and doing things after drinking instead of staying home and drinking again.
Secondly, I think drinking makes me do crazy things. For some reason, when I drink I think I can pull off anything. James Bond has nothing by comparison. I feel like the mental equivalent of McGyver. Funny thing is, so far everything has worked out in the manner I had hoped for when I was drunk. I feel like I'm abusing Murphy's Law or something. Everything that I expect to go wrong doesn't. How the fuck does that happen? I've been in an orgy, a three-some, had a one night stand while my girlfriend is away, had a full-time mistress and two girlfriends at once. The whole time I kept waiting for it to all fall down around me, but it has yet to happen. There are always a few slightly negative parts to the goodness like being late for work and exhausted or hungover or even the pain of denial, but it's all turned out ok so far. I'm 100% amazed at what has already happened and continue to expect 100% failure at every turn.
At this point I can't go into too much detail because of my own Statute of Limitations, but there is definitely more to come in the future. Not to mention posts that have been started, but not polished to my standards yet.
Monday, May 31, 2010
What's in a name Part 1
Names are always interesting. They've always fascinated me. They can define a person in a single word or be a complete misrepresentation that you have to spend the rest of your long life trying to reshape. I was named after a character in a book and have, inadvertently, felt a connection with the character and now the actor since it was turned into a movie. It's weird how sometimes, when you change locations a lot, you forget that the Sarah that you know now is nothing like the Sarah you knew 5, 10 years ago. You get so used to a single word representing the entire being of a person that you forget that there is another person that you knew with the same name. That's why I like nicknames you can pick something that really describes them.
This story is actually about the exception to that theory however. Two girls with the same first name are both etched in my mind forever. I had sex with both of them and neither one remembered a thing the next day. In the long run I suppose that the first event kinda led to the second one, but both situations, no matter how eventful, are completely opposite.
The first event started the evening of my roommate's birthday party. Yeah, my old roommate. I'd probably would've forgotten about him by now if it wasn't for this. Let's call him "D". That's a capital "d". Not like God where the "g" is always capitalized, but he certainly thought that there was a significant likeness. His best friend from college or where ever, Lonnie, came to visit and brought along his wife, Liz. My roommate's girlfriend was there too and for a short period of time other people he knew stopped by long enough to drink a beer or two. Nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary except the Vanilla Vodka. Let me just get that right out of the way. Vanilla Vodka makes people do crazy things. Things that you would never expect. Things that you have to be explained to you the next day because you don't remember them.
I worked nights at the time and typically slept in late in the afternoon. I remember waking up in my bed with the sounds of women laughing and giggling. I thought for a second that I had died in my sleep and someone had opted for the "full pardon" for good behavior, but as I began to regain consciousness I realized that it was neither. I decided to strut down the hall in my boxers on my way to the bathroom to investigate. It was D's girlfriend Shaylynn and someone I had never met. A fiery red-headed gal with porcelain white skin and cute little orange freckles painted lightly on her arms and face.
By the time I exited the bathroom they were gone. For a second I thought that I was having one of those weird dreams where you're in a Salvador Dali painting urinating in the lake where the swans used to reflect elephants on the surface. The ones where you wake up and have to pee like you've been drinking Corona out of a beer bong for the last 5 hours. After getting dressed I found D in the kitchen and he filled me in on the plans for that evening. Party. Here. 7:30. Shaylynn, Lonnie and Liz went to go get alcohol.
I didn't drink at the time, so I decided to opt for some Taco Bell for the time being. By time I got back the drinks had already been poured. I don't really remember a whole lot of what happened next or what happened in what order, but I remember that Liz and I made an instant connection. She was a teacher with a good sense of humor. We made each other laugh a lot and her and Shaylynn got along really well.
After a few more drinks they started to get along quite a bit better. Before I knew it Liz and Shay were making out in the living room. Then they would laugh and giggle a little more and go outside to smoke a cigarette. As they were coming back in Liz looks over at me and comments on how bored I look. Then she runs over and pulls her shirt over my head so she can rub her tits in my face. Nice, firm, round titties that fit in the palm of your hand and cute little nipples that would just melt in your mouth.
Now would be a good time to mention Lonnie's line of work. Lonnie happens to be a 6"3' 268lb Marine. I wasn't prepared for today to be my last day on earth so I decided to not get too carried away and she and Shay skipped to the kitchen to make some more drinks. Afterwards Lonnie seemed okay with what he had seen, even brought up simple conversation.
We decided to watch a movie and Liz sat on the floor in front of Shay and played footsie with me while Shay fondled her. I honestly wasn't very interested in the movie. Matter of fact I'd seen it and it was "okay" at best. At one part another of D's friends stopped by with his wife and another woman. He sat in the chair, his wife on the couch and the other woman, on his lap. He was very drunk and was openly fondling the woman in his lap. His wife had to have noticed, only sitting 2ft away, but simply didn't care. I felt like I was witnessing something totally bizarre. This sort of stuff never happens, but there he was, passed out with a hand down this woman's shirt. His wife even commented on how he was asleep. Those 3 went home when the movie ended, but I was still in awe. There was no arguing, no explanations requested or provided. It was like nothing happened.
Meanwhile Liz and Shay decided to keep the entertainment going and were getting pretty handsy with each other on the floor. They had started to surpass the "I'm just doing this to tease my boyfriend" phase and had clearly started to forget that they were being watched. D broke their concentration when he got up to go to the bathroom though and they all decided that it was, once again, time for a smoke.
I stayed on the couch and reflected at all I had seen so far. All the alcohol that they had bought earlier today was already gone. It was past 2am so all the bars would already be closed. Soon they will either start to sober up or go to sleep. Maybe I should just go to my room and listen to some music or something. I'm still pretty tired from the work week.
The front door opened and Liz came running in, her breasts bouncing under her shirt. I noticed that her pants were undone. She grabbed my hand and jerked me up off the couch and down the hall to D's bedroom. She pushed me down to sit on the bed and plopped down next to me, almost falling off the edge. I was trying to figure out what to do when I noticed D walk in, followed by Shay, followed by Lonnie. When someone from the Army goes crazy and kills somebody they always just say a "man" killed somebody, but when it's a Marine, they always say a "Marine" killed somebody. Reasons may include: rage, honor, jealousy, etc... See: Threatening his family, stealing from him, sleeping with his wife.
While all these thoughts were going through my head Liz had decided to help Shay undress and vice versa. I was about to get up when Liz, now topless, decided that she wanted to suck on my tongue. She hopped up on my lap and pushed me down on the bed. I couldn't even remember the last time I made out with a girl let alone a hot one like Liz. It occured to me that this probably wouldn't be the worst way to die so I decided to just go for it. I teased her tongue with mine and finally got to grab those nice breasts that she had tempted me with earlier.
To my surprise Lonnie actually helped Liz out of her jeans and began to tease her from behind. Liz took off my glasses and they vanished behind her, but I could tell that D and Shay were having a good time too. Shay and I had always gotten along and I will never forget the next part. It was the only full sentence spoken for the next 30 minutes or so. She pointed right at me and said: "You've got more clothes on than the rest of us." Thanks, Shay. You've always had my back.
Liz took that as an open invitation as she ripped my shirt of and began tugging off my jeans. Before I knew it I was getting a world class blow job before she climbed back on top of me. It was, without a doubt, the best part of the night. I got a blow job, I was getting laid and her husband wasn't interested in killing me at this point.
We decided to roll over and she kissed me hard and ran her hands down my back. I kissed her neck and she gasped a little as she scratched me with her fingernails, then clawed at my back with another gasp. At first I thought she was having an orgasm, but she started to panic a little.
"Let her up!" D yelled. At this point she was clawing herself right off the bed and I tried to keep from letting her fall on her head while I rolled off her. She was making a strange motion with her right hand, her thumb pushing an invisible object towards her middle and pointer finger. The international sign for "injection". I didn't get much of a chance to reason it all out in my mind when she leapt up and ran out of the room. I heard the door to the bathroom slam and Lonnie ran after her.
I'm sure I had one of those dumb "what the fuck?" faces on. Like what Hunter S. Thompson should've had when he woke up in the hotel room filled with water; a microphone taped to his face and tape recorder taped to his chest, wearing the bottom part of some lizard costume with a long thick rubbery tail and three-toed rubber lizard boots. It's in the movie.
After a few minutes of talking through the door, Liz finally let Lonnie in and he got things settled down. Then he came back and explained to us what had happened. Turns out Liz has bad Asthma and all the excitement of the evening had provoked it. Normally when she has an attack like this she takes a shot that helps open her lungs back in, but she forgot it at home which was out of town. We all decided to retreat to our separate rooms and relax. Lonnie and Liz had the pull out couch in the living room.
I don't know how long I stared at the ceiling above my bed reflecting on the night, but next thing I knew the sun was creeping in through the windows and I could hear stirring in the other rooms. I was dying of thirst and got up and walked through the living room to the kitchen and back. As I noticed the two blurry images on either side of the couch I realized that I never got my glasses back, but more importantly, was just happy that Liz was still alive and conscious.
Next thing I knew I awoke in my bed again. D was knocking on my door. It cracked open and he tossed my glasses in to me.
"Thanks man." I called back and went back to bed. Later I was told that Liz was very disappointed in me for not averting my eyes when they were getting dressed that morning when I was getting a glass of water and her husband had to explain on the drive home what had happened the night before.
This story is actually about the exception to that theory however. Two girls with the same first name are both etched in my mind forever. I had sex with both of them and neither one remembered a thing the next day. In the long run I suppose that the first event kinda led to the second one, but both situations, no matter how eventful, are completely opposite.
The first event started the evening of my roommate's birthday party. Yeah, my old roommate. I'd probably would've forgotten about him by now if it wasn't for this. Let's call him "D". That's a capital "d". Not like God where the "g" is always capitalized, but he certainly thought that there was a significant likeness. His best friend from college or where ever, Lonnie, came to visit and brought along his wife, Liz. My roommate's girlfriend was there too and for a short period of time other people he knew stopped by long enough to drink a beer or two. Nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary except the Vanilla Vodka. Let me just get that right out of the way. Vanilla Vodka makes people do crazy things. Things that you would never expect. Things that you have to be explained to you the next day because you don't remember them.
I worked nights at the time and typically slept in late in the afternoon. I remember waking up in my bed with the sounds of women laughing and giggling. I thought for a second that I had died in my sleep and someone had opted for the "full pardon" for good behavior, but as I began to regain consciousness I realized that it was neither. I decided to strut down the hall in my boxers on my way to the bathroom to investigate. It was D's girlfriend Shaylynn and someone I had never met. A fiery red-headed gal with porcelain white skin and cute little orange freckles painted lightly on her arms and face.
By the time I exited the bathroom they were gone. For a second I thought that I was having one of those weird dreams where you're in a Salvador Dali painting urinating in the lake where the swans used to reflect elephants on the surface. The ones where you wake up and have to pee like you've been drinking Corona out of a beer bong for the last 5 hours. After getting dressed I found D in the kitchen and he filled me in on the plans for that evening. Party. Here. 7:30. Shaylynn, Lonnie and Liz went to go get alcohol.
I didn't drink at the time, so I decided to opt for some Taco Bell for the time being. By time I got back the drinks had already been poured. I don't really remember a whole lot of what happened next or what happened in what order, but I remember that Liz and I made an instant connection. She was a teacher with a good sense of humor. We made each other laugh a lot and her and Shaylynn got along really well.
After a few more drinks they started to get along quite a bit better. Before I knew it Liz and Shay were making out in the living room. Then they would laugh and giggle a little more and go outside to smoke a cigarette. As they were coming back in Liz looks over at me and comments on how bored I look. Then she runs over and pulls her shirt over my head so she can rub her tits in my face. Nice, firm, round titties that fit in the palm of your hand and cute little nipples that would just melt in your mouth.
Now would be a good time to mention Lonnie's line of work. Lonnie happens to be a 6"3' 268lb Marine. I wasn't prepared for today to be my last day on earth so I decided to not get too carried away and she and Shay skipped to the kitchen to make some more drinks. Afterwards Lonnie seemed okay with what he had seen, even brought up simple conversation.
We decided to watch a movie and Liz sat on the floor in front of Shay and played footsie with me while Shay fondled her. I honestly wasn't very interested in the movie. Matter of fact I'd seen it and it was "okay" at best. At one part another of D's friends stopped by with his wife and another woman. He sat in the chair, his wife on the couch and the other woman, on his lap. He was very drunk and was openly fondling the woman in his lap. His wife had to have noticed, only sitting 2ft away, but simply didn't care. I felt like I was witnessing something totally bizarre. This sort of stuff never happens, but there he was, passed out with a hand down this woman's shirt. His wife even commented on how he was asleep. Those 3 went home when the movie ended, but I was still in awe. There was no arguing, no explanations requested or provided. It was like nothing happened.
Meanwhile Liz and Shay decided to keep the entertainment going and were getting pretty handsy with each other on the floor. They had started to surpass the "I'm just doing this to tease my boyfriend" phase and had clearly started to forget that they were being watched. D broke their concentration when he got up to go to the bathroom though and they all decided that it was, once again, time for a smoke.
I stayed on the couch and reflected at all I had seen so far. All the alcohol that they had bought earlier today was already gone. It was past 2am so all the bars would already be closed. Soon they will either start to sober up or go to sleep. Maybe I should just go to my room and listen to some music or something. I'm still pretty tired from the work week.
The front door opened and Liz came running in, her breasts bouncing under her shirt. I noticed that her pants were undone. She grabbed my hand and jerked me up off the couch and down the hall to D's bedroom. She pushed me down to sit on the bed and plopped down next to me, almost falling off the edge. I was trying to figure out what to do when I noticed D walk in, followed by Shay, followed by Lonnie. When someone from the Army goes crazy and kills somebody they always just say a "man" killed somebody, but when it's a Marine, they always say a "Marine" killed somebody. Reasons may include: rage, honor, jealousy, etc... See: Threatening his family, stealing from him, sleeping with his wife.
While all these thoughts were going through my head Liz had decided to help Shay undress and vice versa. I was about to get up when Liz, now topless, decided that she wanted to suck on my tongue. She hopped up on my lap and pushed me down on the bed. I couldn't even remember the last time I made out with a girl let alone a hot one like Liz. It occured to me that this probably wouldn't be the worst way to die so I decided to just go for it. I teased her tongue with mine and finally got to grab those nice breasts that she had tempted me with earlier.
To my surprise Lonnie actually helped Liz out of her jeans and began to tease her from behind. Liz took off my glasses and they vanished behind her, but I could tell that D and Shay were having a good time too. Shay and I had always gotten along and I will never forget the next part. It was the only full sentence spoken for the next 30 minutes or so. She pointed right at me and said: "You've got more clothes on than the rest of us." Thanks, Shay. You've always had my back.
Liz took that as an open invitation as she ripped my shirt of and began tugging off my jeans. Before I knew it I was getting a world class blow job before she climbed back on top of me. It was, without a doubt, the best part of the night. I got a blow job, I was getting laid and her husband wasn't interested in killing me at this point.
We decided to roll over and she kissed me hard and ran her hands down my back. I kissed her neck and she gasped a little as she scratched me with her fingernails, then clawed at my back with another gasp. At first I thought she was having an orgasm, but she started to panic a little.
"Let her up!" D yelled. At this point she was clawing herself right off the bed and I tried to keep from letting her fall on her head while I rolled off her. She was making a strange motion with her right hand, her thumb pushing an invisible object towards her middle and pointer finger. The international sign for "injection". I didn't get much of a chance to reason it all out in my mind when she leapt up and ran out of the room. I heard the door to the bathroom slam and Lonnie ran after her.
I'm sure I had one of those dumb "what the fuck?" faces on. Like what Hunter S. Thompson should've had when he woke up in the hotel room filled with water; a microphone taped to his face and tape recorder taped to his chest, wearing the bottom part of some lizard costume with a long thick rubbery tail and three-toed rubber lizard boots. It's in the movie.
After a few minutes of talking through the door, Liz finally let Lonnie in and he got things settled down. Then he came back and explained to us what had happened. Turns out Liz has bad Asthma and all the excitement of the evening had provoked it. Normally when she has an attack like this she takes a shot that helps open her lungs back in, but she forgot it at home which was out of town. We all decided to retreat to our separate rooms and relax. Lonnie and Liz had the pull out couch in the living room.
I don't know how long I stared at the ceiling above my bed reflecting on the night, but next thing I knew the sun was creeping in through the windows and I could hear stirring in the other rooms. I was dying of thirst and got up and walked through the living room to the kitchen and back. As I noticed the two blurry images on either side of the couch I realized that I never got my glasses back, but more importantly, was just happy that Liz was still alive and conscious.
Next thing I knew I awoke in my bed again. D was knocking on my door. It cracked open and he tossed my glasses in to me.
"Thanks man." I called back and went back to bed. Later I was told that Liz was very disappointed in me for not averting my eyes when they were getting dressed that morning when I was getting a glass of water and her husband had to explain on the drive home what had happened the night before.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Undying Memories and Sadness (Feeling)
They say that when you are alone late at night, if you can't sleep, that all you have left are your memories to keep you company. That can be a very scary thought. I know enough to understand that just because I thought something was the right choice at the time it doesn't mean that it was the right thing to do. All you can do is try to believe in yourself and try not to second guess. On the other hand if you want to learn from your mistakes you can't just forget about them entirely.
Relationships easily fall under this category. Whenever someone hears of a past girlfriend/boyfriend wife/husband getting together with someone else your mind instinctively goes into "what if?" mode. Unfortunately I suffer from the same problem. I could drown in the what ifs. It would be easier than drowning in the vodka that normally precedes it. I've had a couple of serious relationships that could have ended very differently. There's a very good chance that this blog may not have ever existed, but I always feel like there's something pulling me to where I need to be. Somewhere I need to make it to or something that I have left to do and the only way that I will be prepared for it is with the experiences that I've had. The down side is that I'm not sure that that something or somewhere is what I actually want.
I'm in my mid 20's. Definitely old enough to get married if I choose to, or at least to have children. Hell, if highschoolers can do it why can't I? I've had at least 2 chances to have a child. The first is the reason for my current mood, triggered by an event and the second hasn't left my mind since I first found out about it.
I dated this girl for 3 years. (I use the term "girl" loosely. I only date females older than myself, but that's just what I've always called them.) I will never forget the first thing that I liked about her was her attitude. I was destined to love and hate that very aspect for the rest of our relationship. She was cute and had a good sense of humor and wasn't from my home town which is a horrible place to live. Also she had 2 kids from a previous relationship. Both were fairly young. I'm horrible with numbers, but I believe the boy was 5 and the girl was 4. Unfortunately the kids were the conflicting part of our relationship. They were, and probably still are, good kids, but I just couldn't stand how they were being raised. I really hated how I was raised and I saw the same thing happening to them.
For as long as I remember my mom has been yelling at my sister and I about anything and everything. Whatever it was, it was always our fault. After several years of depression for my sister and I both I have finally started to come out of it. I really believe that there is a time in everyone's life where you get to decide whether or not to continue to do things the way you were raised. I know that somethings aren't just skin deep and can't be forgotten in a day. I still live with some form of depression. They probably have some sort of long, scientific name for it and everything. Standard doses of the standard medication. Overall I really hate living in general. That said, I don't believe in suicide either.
I treated her kids as my own. I wanted them to be able to do better than me and not have to deal with the same problems when they grow up as I have to deal with now. That includes mental problems. I know that my dad had to deal with a lot when we were kids, probably more than my sister and I, but I just couldn't do it all over again. It makes me feel weak, but I know that that reaction is just from how I was raised.
Still, love is a strange thing. I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay with her while she screamed at her kids, but I still loved her and wanted to stay with her. Some times were better and some times were worse. I loved them, and her. It's not something that you can just turn on and off.
After 2 years the subject of having kids came up. She told me that she didn't want anymore, but I knew that she did. I've always thought about having a child. Someone to help make the sleepless nights less lonely. And to do it soon enough that they will be able to benefit from my dad's wisdom. Someone who would, without a doubt, be mine to keep forever.
This was the first situation where it was a possibility. All I would've had to say was that I wanted it to happen and my girlfriend would've agreed. Even if she wasn't sure at first I know that I could've talked her into it and she probably wouldn't have regretted it. Not to my knowledge anyways. But in the end I know that the newborn would get a little older and be treated like the other two and that I would never be able to change that so I never let that happen. Still, I feel like I abandoned them. They don't have a dad growing up like I had. Something to keep them sane with all the craziness. A wall to put their back against. I don't know if I could've been that for them, but I could've at least tried.
I broke it off. Plain and simple. I just couldn't do it anymore. She didn't take it well and wouldn't accept it. That's how I had a cast iron skillet thrown at me. Not like a 7 inch, 2 egg, frying pan. I mean a full-sized 10 inch dutch oven. Actually I was probably lucky. If it would've been smaller it would've been easier to throw in her drunken state. All I ended up with was a bruised shin and a blackened toenail. I've never been one for violent relationships though and since I had been drinking was not ready for that kind of confrontation. Also luckily neither one of us had to go to jail, but were both strongly advised by the local police to go to our respective homes.This was a solid month after I gave her the news.
The other girl I met afterwards. Well, I already knew her, but didn't know her that well. She happens to be the only one of my ex-girlfriends that I am still able to speak to and the only one I really wish that I was still with. It's one of the universe's paradoxes (paradoxi?). I know that if I had stayed with her that I would always be broke and that we would fight constantly, but she's also the only girl that I know that can make me smile no matter what.
She wasn't able to take the more popular kinds of birth control, so I did what all young, stupid males do, I got her pregnant. For reasons that I can't go into online she felt that we wouldn't be able to keep it. I've never really been able to decide if that decision was good or bad, but as with all unclear choices the most confident answer is always the right one. I don't know if she would've made a good mother or wife, but I know that we would've continued to fight over everything.
but, what if....
There's never a way to go back. This isn't a playstation game where you can just reload the last save point and you may regret it if you did. All the new experiences that you've had in the mean time can't be re-lived either. If I had had children with the first girl I would've never known the second. It's both depressing and encouraging. All I know is that it still keeps me up at night years after it happened and I can't let it go.
Relationships easily fall under this category. Whenever someone hears of a past girlfriend/boyfriend wife/husband getting together with someone else your mind instinctively goes into "what if?" mode. Unfortunately I suffer from the same problem. I could drown in the what ifs. It would be easier than drowning in the vodka that normally precedes it. I've had a couple of serious relationships that could have ended very differently. There's a very good chance that this blog may not have ever existed, but I always feel like there's something pulling me to where I need to be. Somewhere I need to make it to or something that I have left to do and the only way that I will be prepared for it is with the experiences that I've had. The down side is that I'm not sure that that something or somewhere is what I actually want.
I'm in my mid 20's. Definitely old enough to get married if I choose to, or at least to have children. Hell, if highschoolers can do it why can't I? I've had at least 2 chances to have a child. The first is the reason for my current mood, triggered by an event and the second hasn't left my mind since I first found out about it.
I dated this girl for 3 years. (I use the term "girl" loosely. I only date females older than myself, but that's just what I've always called them.) I will never forget the first thing that I liked about her was her attitude. I was destined to love and hate that very aspect for the rest of our relationship. She was cute and had a good sense of humor and wasn't from my home town which is a horrible place to live. Also she had 2 kids from a previous relationship. Both were fairly young. I'm horrible with numbers, but I believe the boy was 5 and the girl was 4. Unfortunately the kids were the conflicting part of our relationship. They were, and probably still are, good kids, but I just couldn't stand how they were being raised. I really hated how I was raised and I saw the same thing happening to them.
For as long as I remember my mom has been yelling at my sister and I about anything and everything. Whatever it was, it was always our fault. After several years of depression for my sister and I both I have finally started to come out of it. I really believe that there is a time in everyone's life where you get to decide whether or not to continue to do things the way you were raised. I know that somethings aren't just skin deep and can't be forgotten in a day. I still live with some form of depression. They probably have some sort of long, scientific name for it and everything. Standard doses of the standard medication. Overall I really hate living in general. That said, I don't believe in suicide either.
I treated her kids as my own. I wanted them to be able to do better than me and not have to deal with the same problems when they grow up as I have to deal with now. That includes mental problems. I know that my dad had to deal with a lot when we were kids, probably more than my sister and I, but I just couldn't do it all over again. It makes me feel weak, but I know that that reaction is just from how I was raised.
Still, love is a strange thing. I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay with her while she screamed at her kids, but I still loved her and wanted to stay with her. Some times were better and some times were worse. I loved them, and her. It's not something that you can just turn on and off.
After 2 years the subject of having kids came up. She told me that she didn't want anymore, but I knew that she did. I've always thought about having a child. Someone to help make the sleepless nights less lonely. And to do it soon enough that they will be able to benefit from my dad's wisdom. Someone who would, without a doubt, be mine to keep forever.
This was the first situation where it was a possibility. All I would've had to say was that I wanted it to happen and my girlfriend would've agreed. Even if she wasn't sure at first I know that I could've talked her into it and she probably wouldn't have regretted it. Not to my knowledge anyways. But in the end I know that the newborn would get a little older and be treated like the other two and that I would never be able to change that so I never let that happen. Still, I feel like I abandoned them. They don't have a dad growing up like I had. Something to keep them sane with all the craziness. A wall to put their back against. I don't know if I could've been that for them, but I could've at least tried.
I broke it off. Plain and simple. I just couldn't do it anymore. She didn't take it well and wouldn't accept it. That's how I had a cast iron skillet thrown at me. Not like a 7 inch, 2 egg, frying pan. I mean a full-sized 10 inch dutch oven. Actually I was probably lucky. If it would've been smaller it would've been easier to throw in her drunken state. All I ended up with was a bruised shin and a blackened toenail. I've never been one for violent relationships though and since I had been drinking was not ready for that kind of confrontation. Also luckily neither one of us had to go to jail, but were both strongly advised by the local police to go to our respective homes.This was a solid month after I gave her the news.
The other girl I met afterwards. Well, I already knew her, but didn't know her that well. She happens to be the only one of my ex-girlfriends that I am still able to speak to and the only one I really wish that I was still with. It's one of the universe's paradoxes (paradoxi?). I know that if I had stayed with her that I would always be broke and that we would fight constantly, but she's also the only girl that I know that can make me smile no matter what.
She wasn't able to take the more popular kinds of birth control, so I did what all young, stupid males do, I got her pregnant. For reasons that I can't go into online she felt that we wouldn't be able to keep it. I've never really been able to decide if that decision was good or bad, but as with all unclear choices the most confident answer is always the right one. I don't know if she would've made a good mother or wife, but I know that we would've continued to fight over everything.
but, what if....
There's never a way to go back. This isn't a playstation game where you can just reload the last save point and you may regret it if you did. All the new experiences that you've had in the mean time can't be re-lived either. If I had had children with the first girl I would've never known the second. It's both depressing and encouraging. All I know is that it still keeps me up at night years after it happened and I can't let it go.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Time Lasts Forever, A Vampire's Perspective (Feeling)
12 hour shifts. I come in as the sun is setting to relieve Russ. His shirt is sky blue and covered in black powder with sweat stains around each arm pit, neck and back. The front of his jeans have the same powdery look from moving chunks of dirty steel. Darker spots are located on his thighs and knees. Even his hands, arms and scruffy face are covered. The only "clean" spot is the back of his jeans. There's no sitting down at this job.
He gives me a quick run-down and finally gets to go home. He scrubs arms up to the elbows and rinses his face. This is how he looks at the end of the day. Dirty, sweaty and obviously exhausted by the way he lumbers towards the door.
For the next 12 hours I run the machine for the same exact part. Cut. Clean. Reload. Cut. Clean. Reload. After a while I lose track of how many I've cut and have to stop just to re-count the parts. 3,527. Every 10 minutes there's another load done. A flat, clean sheet of cold rolled steel goes in and 30 parts come out. Cut. Clean. Reload. The newest revision of Webster's Dictionary is going to have this listed under "tedious".
tedious [ˈtiːdɪəs]
After lunch is even worse. Only 300 more sheets to go. It feels like an eternity. The gratification of productivity is dwindled by the futility of actually completing something. 7 hours in and I forget what it was like to cut the first load. I estimate that I can only remember the last 10, but they all seem the same. The sun set hours ago, but it feels like 10AM. I keep waiting for it to come back up, but really I feel like I already missed it. Maybe my watch is broken. Maybe I worked into the weekend and didn't realize it. "Only a few more hours," I tell myself, "only a few more hours." Cut. Clean. Reload.
I must've zoned out. Not sure for how long, but there is light creeping in through the garage door opening. What the hell day is it? I think I came in on Wednesday. Or, was it Thursday? I can't remember. Too many days with not enough sleep. The fatigue is really getting to me.
After a few more sheets I see Russ prancing through the door. Smiling. Energized. His scruffy beard is gone. The small cuts and oily dirt stains on his hands have totally vanished. Clean white shirt and light blue jeans. No more bags under his eyes, his weariness has been completely erased. He seems like an entirely different person.
They say that time is relative. I don't think that this is what they meant, but it's definitely true. I feel like a Vampire watching the ages go by. People change and I haven't even slept. I don't even feel hungry, I just want sustenance. A break. I want to just relax without just watching time go by.
He gives me a quick run-down and finally gets to go home. He scrubs arms up to the elbows and rinses his face. This is how he looks at the end of the day. Dirty, sweaty and obviously exhausted by the way he lumbers towards the door.
For the next 12 hours I run the machine for the same exact part. Cut. Clean. Reload. Cut. Clean. Reload. After a while I lose track of how many I've cut and have to stop just to re-count the parts. 3,527. Every 10 minutes there's another load done. A flat, clean sheet of cold rolled steel goes in and 30 parts come out. Cut. Clean. Reload. The newest revision of Webster's Dictionary is going to have this listed under "tedious".
tedious [ˈtiːdɪəs]
adj
1. causing fatigue or tedium; monotonous
2. progressing very slowly
3. cutting the same sheet of metal over and over again for hours on end
tediously adv
tediousness n
After lunch is even worse. Only 300 more sheets to go. It feels like an eternity. The gratification of productivity is dwindled by the futility of actually completing something. 7 hours in and I forget what it was like to cut the first load. I estimate that I can only remember the last 10, but they all seem the same. The sun set hours ago, but it feels like 10AM. I keep waiting for it to come back up, but really I feel like I already missed it. Maybe my watch is broken. Maybe I worked into the weekend and didn't realize it. "Only a few more hours," I tell myself, "only a few more hours." Cut. Clean. Reload.
I must've zoned out. Not sure for how long, but there is light creeping in through the garage door opening. What the hell day is it? I think I came in on Wednesday. Or, was it Thursday? I can't remember. Too many days with not enough sleep. The fatigue is really getting to me.
After a few more sheets I see Russ prancing through the door. Smiling. Energized. His scruffy beard is gone. The small cuts and oily dirt stains on his hands have totally vanished. Clean white shirt and light blue jeans. No more bags under his eyes, his weariness has been completely erased. He seems like an entirely different person.
They say that time is relative. I don't think that this is what they meant, but it's definitely true. I feel like a Vampire watching the ages go by. People change and I haven't even slept. I don't even feel hungry, I just want sustenance. A break. I want to just relax without just watching time go by.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Self loathing and boredom Part 1 (Fiction-ish)
The god-awful lingering taste of the Vanilla Absolut wasn't gonna be enough to quench my self destructive thirst at 3:15 on a Thursday morning, but it's the closest thing to the Pale as I was gonna find. I knew that I would need all the help I could get for this particular journey through the valley of the shadow of death. Who knows where I may end up when the sun peaks over the mountains. Dead? Alive? Even if I'm alive I don't want to recognize my surroundings. I've had enough of the familiar. The same four walls, the same music, the same magazines, the same bored and alone 3am.
Another shot. Another "that's god-awful" face. Slip on shoes, leather jacket, lift the door to close as I leave. Chilly outside. Stars. No moon, but dry. The alcohol laughs at the cold. This isn't Russia so the Vodka doesn't care.
I'd rather go straight to Hell as long as it's not boring, but maybe that's exactly what my Hell would be like. Maybe I'm already there. Dunno, but I'm gonna go do something interesting. Don't know what it is yet, but that's probably the only reason to do it.
By the time I realize I've been walking, I'm already on my way down town. My jeans feel frozen; like they were taken out of the wash machine and hung up in a meat locker, or a blizzard. Stiff and cold against hot skin.
I totally bypass all the main streets. I don't have that kind of money. Expensive junk to keep on the shelf and look pretty. I've got more than a house-full of stuff and I don't care if any of it looks pretty. It doesn't interest me. But the side streets have alleys and less proper businesses. Tattoo parlors, sex shops.
The concrete beneath my feet is the only thing that feels solid. I make a right turn down an alley way. What's the worst that could happen? Get Mugged? I don't have, or even look like I have anything worth taking.
Two people up on my left. The world spins a bit. Finally the Absolut is doing something. I think I see some skin, but I can't tell where or from who. The girl is almost completely flat-chested. Young, but too skinny. Definitely drugged out. She drops to her knees and faces away from me, towards the guy as I pass.
Maybe it's the scenery or maybe just the brisk walk as I pick up the pace, but my breath leaves a vapor trail as I walk by. The only sounds are the soft click-click of my heels and a slight slurping sound. Definitely not my destination. Not exactly at least. I'll skip the STD's thank you very much. I don't think I've ever been that bored.
I don't know if alcohol is the catalyst or is what has kept me from being here sooner. As I'm pondering this I realize I came in through the back door of this operation and the pimp is very unhappy that a potential pig is in between him and his whore. It's very ironic. He trusts her with total strangers until there is someone blocking his view.
There are so many obscenities screamed within the first 30 seconds that I can't even begin to count. "WTF?" as they say at work doesn't even begin to describe it.
"I'm just looking for a good time." I say.
"A block too early." I say.
He grins. A long-hair looking for a good time. Drunk. He smells fresh meat and saves the rest of his curses for one of his girls. The sonova bitch. But I need companionship more than I need to be a witness at a trial for prostitution. Funny how God has planned us. Deny our impulses and be saved!!!
The pimp grabs one of his girls by the arm, pushes her toward me and mentions something about stairs as he hikes his thumb over his shoulder. Either this guy has a strange, thick accent or I'm drunker than I thought. The girl looks me right in the eye for a split second then looks down and say's "C'mon" as she turns and leads me up the street. I wonder if she can tell how much I've had to drink as I follow the click-click of her high heels on the frozen pavement. She opens a metal and glass door to an apartment complex and the chilling frame stings against my burning fingers. She walks on her tip toes as we climb the stairs and I finally start to lose my nerve. What the hell am I doing here? I could be saving up money and leave this place or put that money towards college. Work at learning something instead of blowing it all in one night.
Yeah, but fuck that. Too much knowledge is what got me here to begin with. All the games at work to climb the company ladder makes all to much sense. It's when I act like the company man that I hate. You just have to be false. Act like them. Care about no one except your boss. Fuck them too.
Another shot. Another "that's god-awful" face. Slip on shoes, leather jacket, lift the door to close as I leave. Chilly outside. Stars. No moon, but dry. The alcohol laughs at the cold. This isn't Russia so the Vodka doesn't care.
I'd rather go straight to Hell as long as it's not boring, but maybe that's exactly what my Hell would be like. Maybe I'm already there. Dunno, but I'm gonna go do something interesting. Don't know what it is yet, but that's probably the only reason to do it.
By the time I realize I've been walking, I'm already on my way down town. My jeans feel frozen; like they were taken out of the wash machine and hung up in a meat locker, or a blizzard. Stiff and cold against hot skin.
I totally bypass all the main streets. I don't have that kind of money. Expensive junk to keep on the shelf and look pretty. I've got more than a house-full of stuff and I don't care if any of it looks pretty. It doesn't interest me. But the side streets have alleys and less proper businesses. Tattoo parlors, sex shops.
The concrete beneath my feet is the only thing that feels solid. I make a right turn down an alley way. What's the worst that could happen? Get Mugged? I don't have, or even look like I have anything worth taking.
Two people up on my left. The world spins a bit. Finally the Absolut is doing something. I think I see some skin, but I can't tell where or from who. The girl is almost completely flat-chested. Young, but too skinny. Definitely drugged out. She drops to her knees and faces away from me, towards the guy as I pass.
Maybe it's the scenery or maybe just the brisk walk as I pick up the pace, but my breath leaves a vapor trail as I walk by. The only sounds are the soft click-click of my heels and a slight slurping sound. Definitely not my destination. Not exactly at least. I'll skip the STD's thank you very much. I don't think I've ever been that bored.
I don't know if alcohol is the catalyst or is what has kept me from being here sooner. As I'm pondering this I realize I came in through the back door of this operation and the pimp is very unhappy that a potential pig is in between him and his whore. It's very ironic. He trusts her with total strangers until there is someone blocking his view.
There are so many obscenities screamed within the first 30 seconds that I can't even begin to count. "WTF?" as they say at work doesn't even begin to describe it.
"I'm just looking for a good time." I say.
"A block too early." I say.
He grins. A long-hair looking for a good time. Drunk. He smells fresh meat and saves the rest of his curses for one of his girls. The sonova bitch. But I need companionship more than I need to be a witness at a trial for prostitution. Funny how God has planned us. Deny our impulses and be saved!!!
The pimp grabs one of his girls by the arm, pushes her toward me and mentions something about stairs as he hikes his thumb over his shoulder. Either this guy has a strange, thick accent or I'm drunker than I thought. The girl looks me right in the eye for a split second then looks down and say's "C'mon" as she turns and leads me up the street. I wonder if she can tell how much I've had to drink as I follow the click-click of her high heels on the frozen pavement. She opens a metal and glass door to an apartment complex and the chilling frame stings against my burning fingers. She walks on her tip toes as we climb the stairs and I finally start to lose my nerve. What the hell am I doing here? I could be saving up money and leave this place or put that money towards college. Work at learning something instead of blowing it all in one night.
Yeah, but fuck that. Too much knowledge is what got me here to begin with. All the games at work to climb the company ladder makes all to much sense. It's when I act like the company man that I hate. You just have to be false. Act like them. Care about no one except your boss. Fuck them too.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Flashback: September 2008
We lay in her bed. Lights out. It'd been a rough day. I'm on my back wearing boxers and a cover. She has her head on my chest, her hand lying gently on my stomach. I wrap my arm around her, rub her back and fiddle with her hair as I begin to drift off to sleep. It's been quiet for the last 35 minutes or so and she shifts her head forward a bit for comfort. I can feel her perky breasts pressed against my side. No bra, just a tee shirt and panties. I feel my body react to that kind of thinking, but I'm too close to sleep for it to matter.
I feel her shift again. This time she puts her head on my stomach and pushes the covers down a bit so it's not in her face. I start to come out of stupor a little and begin to get anxious. "Is she gonna do what I think she's going to do?" I thought.
She moves again and pushes the blanket away. This time she reaches into my boxers and pulls out my hard on. She strokes it a few times before I feel the heat of her mouth on the end. She licks it and puts it in her mouth a little at a time before I feel her start to go up and down on it. Her hair dances over my stomach as she starts to really work it. After a few minutes she stops to catch her breath, but continues to stroke it, before she giving me more.
She had always told me that she doesn't give head. It must just be my lucky day.
I feel her shift again. This time she puts her head on my stomach and pushes the covers down a bit so it's not in her face. I start to come out of stupor a little and begin to get anxious. "Is she gonna do what I think she's going to do?" I thought.
She moves again and pushes the blanket away. This time she reaches into my boxers and pulls out my hard on. She strokes it a few times before I feel the heat of her mouth on the end. She licks it and puts it in her mouth a little at a time before I feel her start to go up and down on it. Her hair dances over my stomach as she starts to really work it. After a few minutes she stops to catch her breath, but continues to stroke it, before she giving me more.
She had always told me that she doesn't give head. It must just be my lucky day.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Magdelina (Fiction)
A cold draft woke her late that night. A frozen breeze drifting out of an open mausoleum during a starry winter night. With it came the musky smell of mildew. That of old newspapers stuffed in the attic and stumbled upon after years of a leaky roof's water damage. With sleep still clawing at her weary body she pulled back the blankets with a heavy arm and sat up. Her shoulder length brown hair danced like will-o-the-wisps on another chilly gust of air while she attempted to collect her thoughts. Like an old man in fully body armor or a deep-sea diver looking out from behind his goldfish-bowl helmet she stood up. Her frame swaying back and forth from the lead weights of fatigue. Her eyes were more closed than opened as she drifted from her large wood-frame bed to the old, mahogany carved balcony door. An enormous, full yellow moon transformed her shape into a glowing white specter as her nightgown caught the pale light. The thin, satin curtains reached out to her like an expectant lover waiting for an embrace. The winds howled as if in pain and the curtains whipped back and forth.
"Come to me." Came a voice. In her sleepy state she couldn't discern whether the voice echoed from her dreams or if a man uttered those three quiet words. And if it was a man, then from where did his request come? Certainly not from in her room or from outside.
She leaned on the edge of the window a bit confused. The curtains now wrapped around her body, softly caressing her back and arms. The satin felt like a baby's skin or what the touch of an angel must feel like.
"Come to me, my Magdelina." The voice came again. This time it wasn't a request. It was a command and she stepped out onto the balcony.
"Come to me." Came a voice. In her sleepy state she couldn't discern whether the voice echoed from her dreams or if a man uttered those three quiet words. And if it was a man, then from where did his request come? Certainly not from in her room or from outside.
She leaned on the edge of the window a bit confused. The curtains now wrapped around her body, softly caressing her back and arms. The satin felt like a baby's skin or what the touch of an angel must feel like.
"Come to me, my Magdelina." The voice came again. This time it wasn't a request. It was a command and she stepped out onto the balcony.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Origin (Fiction)
He was good at exactly two things; making crossword puzzles and sex. Not a combination that typically goes together. Sometimes your talent and dreams don't go hand in hand. He was a prodigy among his peers. The youngest crossword genius to not care about the 13 different words for snow or even the 37 different words for sex for that matter. Lily cared. so did Carol, Faith, Chastity and all the other secretaries. More about sex than synonyms. Actually they would've cared more about sex than him if he wasn't making their business the most popular puzzle company in the US. Please note that being good at sex is not the same as being good at love. Some measure love by sex, but the yardstick is always changing shape depending on the mood. The best way to measure a relationship is a complete mystery, but addictiveness is definitely a sign. Some can't help themselves. Day in day out it's all they can think about.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Prologue
Let's get the boring crap out of the way. Currently I'm a 26 year old pale white guy. Lot's of synonyms to go along with that description. I've only ever been good at 2 things: Sex and crossword puzzles. All the baggage that goes along with sex still makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. The only thing that I can figure is that it will all come to me in time. All I can do is try it all and see what happens. Hell, Even crosswords come with practice.
What you need to know about these posts is that they are definitely more for me than they are for the reader, but I know of at least 2 people who will be interested in what I have to say. Other than that, this is just a way for me to keep track of where I've been and what I've done. This is where the narrator from Law and Order comes on and says something like:
"In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the police who investigate crime and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders. Both sides would be interested in the facts behind these stories. That's why all names have been changed to protect the innocent and all current girlfriends need not subscribe to this blog."
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