It was 7 years ago that my uncle taught me how to pick up women. Twink. That's what I called him. That's what everybody called him. I didn't even learn his real name until his funeral. He was one of those unrelated uncles, but his birthday was the day before mine so we had a bit of a bond and extended birthday parties.
I arrived on Oct. 16, his birthday, in the afternoon. He had already been partying for two days. What can I say? He was like the living embodiment of Dionysus. Crazy hair, always smiling. Live hard, drive fast. A good man.
I found him in the 'garage' section of his house modifying the frame from a volkswagen to build another trike. I say 'garage' section because he lived like the free spirit he was. He had moved two mobile homes into a V shape and built a roof to cover the gap. Which actually made for a very nice bar/garage combo. Every mechanics dream.
As always he was happy to see me and I had brought him a few metal flames that I had cut out at the laser shop at work. He was always building new, random things and little stuff like this always gave them more character. He wanted to start a business called Twinker Toys to sell them. He mumbled in his unique, normally slurred, voice about everything from elaborate motorcycle mailboxes to small mechanical kids toys.
Over the next 3 hours he told me about all his ideas as he drank and people started arriving for his 'official' birthday party. When it started getting dark I remember helping him start a car that was dedicated to running the lights via the battery. This was back when gas was considerably cheaper and, after a few tries, the house lit up from one side to the other with mismatched lamps and rope lights. It definitely had a carnival look to it; crazy, but fun.
I would have to guess that most people aren't up to this type of craziness, but for all of you people that didn't know me in high school this wasn't that far out of the ordinary. City life where I live now is significantly different from this. There were some similarities; singing, dancing, drinking. But on the other hand you rarely see target practice going on at night or someone pulling the motor out of a car outside in the lawn with a tree, a chain and a flashlight. The weird part was that these people actually knew what they were doing. By morning the car was fixed and no one was accidently injured in the crossfire. Maybe Dick Chaney should have been drunk during that hunting trip.
Anyways, I tried to mingle, but there was always so many people at these things that I didn't know. I always ended up just wandering around for a while until I ran across someone I knew by name, but that night I ended up finding Twink again before anyone else I knew. He was outside by the picnic table telling jokes to a small crowd.
I didn't hear them at first because of the loud classic rock music blasting from the living room inside, but as I walked up everyone was laughing and puffing their cigarettes. Twink took a drink of his beer as he turned to me. He held up his right hand like a native american greeting of some sort. I did the same. With him it was always just best to go with the flow. Following his line of logic was impossible. I just held my hand there for a second while he chugged the last of his beer waiting for him to say "How!" in a solemn voice. Instead he reached up and, using his hand, closed my all my fingers into a fist except my pointer finger so I was pointing up at the cloudy sky. Then he proceeded to firmly grab and hold my hand in this shape and aimed that very finger towards the exposed butt crack of the girl sitting cross-legged on the picnic table next to us.
It took absolutely all of my strength to NOT put my finger there. I distinctly remember thinking that he was waaaaay too strong for someone who had been drinking for days on end. I must've been only an inch away from embarrassment when he finally decided to release my hand and put his arm around me.
"C'mon" he said "I'm gonna teach you how to pick up women." I probably wasn't nearly as afraid as I should've been at the time and within a minute or two we had ditched the party in his truck bound for the local bar.
Of course with him it was like walking into Cheers. As soon as one person greeted him everyone else began to follow suit. Even the bartender did an extremely friendly Hello before asking for my ID. Twink was all over it though. "This is my nephew." he said "It's already 11:45 and I'll cover for him."
The bartender looked at my ID again then handed it back. "Ok. What'll you have?" he asked and Twink ordered for us both. After he paid we collected our drinks and regrouped at a quiet part of the bar for a second as he surveyed the crowd.
He looked over at me and unzipped my leather jacket. "Relax. Be cool. Now just do what I do." And that was when I bore witness to the secret that all men wanted to know. It was the pinnacle of God's creation. This was the absolute purpose of men from every walk of life and every corner of the earth.
I sipped my drink as he walked up to a skinny 30-somthing blonde at the bar and firmly grabbed her ass. She turned to look at him. "So what are we doing later?" he mumbled in a casual tone as he leaned on the bar and she smiled a bit.
There must've been an olive or something in my drink because for a moment I choked and coughed. By the time I recovered Twink was walking back over to me. He looked at me for a second then turned to face the bar again and pointed at a college girl waiting in line for a drink.
"She's all yours."
and he pushed me towards her.
I'm not going to bore you with what comes next, or rather, I'm not sure if I should disclose such facts online. lol. Needless to say I'll never forget the night that someone ditched their own birthday party to take me out drinking. His wife was so pissed when we got back that he stayed at my house that night.
Sadly he died last year. He hit a deer at night while driving one of his trikes. I had to borrow a car and lie to my job to get the day off just so I could be there for his funeral. I got there late, but when I arrived I thought I was early because of all the people standing around outside the church. As it turned out there was no more standing room inside the church and the sermon was already underway. It was a small-town church and it would take me more than a paragraph to explain how to even get to the small town where the procession was held, but there were more than 200 people attending, including the bartender from that night. He wore a suit even. Said that he couldn't miss the event, but that Twink would never recognize him in such attire so it was win-win. I felt like it was the appropriate sense of humor for the legend that is no longer with us.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Forbidden Fruit (Fiction)
As I lay there I look over to see that she is asleep, or rather I see on the monitor that her eyes are closed and I feel her breathing rhythmically below me. She still looks like a radiant angel on the screen. Her halo of blonde hair now matted with sweat to her forehead and cheek. This was all her idea actually. Starting with the vanilla vodka and something called Alize to the snapshots to the video that was still recording as she slept. She had pretended to be so innocent, but there it was. The camera time stamp showed 4:41:21, hours: minutes: seconds. That makes for a good hour and a half at least. I shouldn't even still be here and I definitely shouldn't leave any damning evidence behind. This was, after all, her husband's house. Maybe once I sober up a little I'll remember why I thought that this was a good idea, but for the moment, 4:43:37am, I'm exhausted, drunk and all I have are flashbacks.
* * *
I had arrived at the pub wearing a bowler hat, an all black fleece jacket and a white shirt with a skull-tie printed on it. It was a crowd pleaser and started a lot of conversations. I can't remember how her and I actually met, but as I remember I had to approach her. She was wearing a 50's-style white dress with blue dots on it and a small blue flower just over her left ear. I remember her being shy at first; her friends did most of the talking.
* * *
I feel her shift a little underneath me and something starts buzzing against my leg. Reaching between us I pull out a rubbery, humming vibrator and open my eyes wearily to search for the off button before letting it drop to the wooden floor. Looking over at the monitor her face looks completely relaxed; lips gently parted as she rests. Bottom right now showing 4:58:18 and the curtains behind us dance slowly in a light breeze.
* * *
It was sometime around my third or fourth drink when her shyness started to give way to playful flirting. One of her more promiscuous friends was now wearing my hat so she took it upon herself to return it to me. I noticed the look of enjoyment on her face as she ran her fingers through my hair before setting the hat on top. I wonder why I hadn't noticed her wedding ring then? She had to have been wearing it.
* * *
The bedroom had started to cool off. Between the breeze and the bare skin something had to be done. "I should get dressed," I thought as I reached toward the foot of the bed for the sheets and comforter. 5:07:53, but I'm so relaxed.
* * *
Her friends decided that they were going to go to another bar just down the street, but the blonde-haired angel had gone to the bathroom only moments before.
"You'll wait and walk with her, won't you hun?" the promiscuous girl asked as she put her arm around me and laid her head on my shoulder. Then she gave me a kiss on the cheek and left with the other girls, leaving me to hurry up and finish off my vodka and orange juice. I had lost count by this time, but I know that my drinks had gotten progressively stronger as the night went on. Next thing I remember was the bumpy cab ride and us whispering funny things back and forth to each other in the back seat. There was a moment when we both got quiet and I leaned over and kissed her. By the time we got to her house we were desperate to get inside as soon as possible.
* * *
I became conscious again. Sometimes I just can't sleep when I've been drinking. Especially while in unfamiliar surroundings, but that doesn't keep me from being completely worn out. 5:25:13. I tell myself that nobody will notice me leaving at 6am on a Sunday.
* * *
She had mixed up some drinks she called Blu Ice. I told her that the drink matched her dress and she had asked me to take a picture of her with it. That's when things started to get a little crazy... and a little blurred. We went from the camera on my phone to a Polaroid that she had stored in a closet at the end of the hall, next to the bedroom. The light from the lamp next to the bed made her even more photogenic and each photograph I handed her seemed to make her more and more bold as she posed on the bed.
"I'm just curious..." she trailed off as she stared at me and I was just about to make a whitty comment when she suddenly reached out and grabbed my package through my jeans. My jaw dropped for a second. Then I heard myself say "Well you're never gonna find out that way."
* * *
Somewhere around here there's a couple pictures of her going down on me. I open my heavy eyes to see if I can find them, but give up after a second or so. 5:37:08
* * *
She hadn't been wearing any panties, but at the time it was one hell of a bonus for me. I was rock hard and had climbed onto the bed with her. Not sure where the Polaroid had gone by this time; I was too busy lifting up the hem of her dress and pushing her down on the bed so I could return the favor that she had just given me. Again she ran her fingers through my hair and for a second I wondered if this is what she had been thinking of when she did it back at the pub.
I remember her moaning loudly the first time she came. She threw her head back, her legs quivered, then the room was quiet except for some heavy breathing as I kissed her inner thigh.
"Oh, wow" she giggled. "You deserve a present for that!"
She got up, staggered into the hall and came back naked with a camcorder in hand.
"How about something for the occasion?" she asked with a smile and plugged it into the flatscreen TV on top of the dresser. Within seconds it displayed her stroking my cock as she straddled me. I got to see her breasts bounce in front of me and watch her cute ass on the monitor while she rode me. She had also began talking dirty at this point. I could tell that she was pretty drunk, but certainly enjoying herself and really getting into the whole video tape thing.
"I want you to take me!" she stated breathlessly rolling off of me and facing the camera.
I got behind her and starting pumping into her hard.
"Oh God, baby! Give it to me good!!" she yelled.
I could tell that she was getting close again. She just needed something to put her over the edge. I reached up and knotted my fingers in her hair and smacked her ass. Within seconds she was screaming into a pillow as her pussy pulsed around my rigid cock.
"I really needed that I think!" Her voice was getting raspy from the yelling and the alcohol. "Now we just need to get you taken care of." A hint of determination in her voice. After a slight pause she added "I'm open to anything."
"Oh?" I replied in a challenging tone. She giggled a little.
"Oh yes. Why don't we try something new?"
On the monitor I could see a tiny evil grin on her face. She moved forward a little and I slipped out of her. Then she reached behind her and led me, cock first, right into her tight ass.
"Isn't this what all the boys want?" she asked. "Just go slow, okay?"
Within a minute or two I couldn't hang on any longer and I was starting to throb.
"Make me your dirty whore!!" she screamed and I began to cum as I thrust deep inside her.
After a couple of seconds I pulled out, but otherwise just lay there on top of her and let my heart slow down as I caught my breath again.
* * *
I awoke again in a bit of a panic. Light was creeping in past the curtains of the now-closed window. I glanced at the monitor only instead of a live feed I saw my direct reflection. Plus, the camera was gone. I quickly tugged my jeans on and pulled my phone out of the left pocket. 7:15. It looked odd to not have the seconds listed. There's gotta be a way to fix that.
I put on the rest of my clothes and nervously wandered out into the hall. The Polaroid photos that had been strewn about had been picked up. This is like Hansel and Gretel all over again. The veritable bread crumbs had been pecked away one at a time. "I hope her husband isn't a raven." I thought in my weary, half drunken state. "He might come gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."
It was at that moment that she came around the corner in a bath robe with her hair wrapped up in a beige bath towel. Her face glowing with that I-just-had-sex smile.
"Good morning you!" she said in a chipper voice as she walked by. "I've got to get dressed. I promised Sarah that I would have breakfast with her today."
As I recall, Sarah was the promiscuous girl. Yeah, Sarah. I tried to connect the name with the face for a second but my brain was just too muddled.
"Oh, and she'll want to know all about you." She said as she turned the corner to the bedroom. "She's been trying to hook me up with guys for months now."
"Wait. I thought you said you were married?" I called out quizzically.
She poked her head out to look at me for a second with a big smile on her face. "I just said that to make it more exciting. Forbidden fruit and all that. Next time we'll have to hurry before your wife gets home." she giggled.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Adventures of Kimbre-San (Fiction)
Ah.. the start of a major project. They always take too long for my taste and I end up rushing them in the end, but I'm going to attempt one anyways. This is by no means a finished product, but only a very rough draft and only the first chapter at that! Either way it feels good to actually get something worthwhile posted this month.
KIMBRE was beginning to get very tired of sitting by herself at the front desk, and of having nothing to do : once or twice she had peeped at the blog on her computer screen, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a blog," thought Kimbre "without pictures or conversations?"
___________ CHAPTER 1 ___________
KIMBRE was beginning to get very tired of sitting by herself at the front desk, and of having nothing to do : once or twice she had peeped at the blog on her computer screen, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a blog," thought Kimbre "without pictures or conversations?"
So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could for this being her second shift today made her feel very sleepy), whether the pleasure of starting some poking wars would be worth the trouble of pulling up Facebook on her phone, when suddenly a customer came in. A small man with white hair and a rough, plaid coat and matching pants.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that, nor did Kimbre that it was so very much out of the way to hear the man yammer to himself "It started?! It started?! I'm gonna be too late!" (When she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but he had a Bluetooth earpiece resting on his ear ; but when the man took a broken cell phone out of his waistcoat-pocket, and looked at the cracked screen, and then hurried away from the front desk, Kimbre started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen anyone with such a damaged phone or such a new handsfree device, and, burning with curiosity, she ran out into the lobby after him, and was just in time to see him hop inside one of the hotel rooms down the hall.
In another moment down went Kimbre after him, never once considering who in the world was going to watch the front desk while she was gone.
The darkness inside the room made it very hard to see for some way, and then it dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Kimbre had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down what seemed to be a very deep well.
Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything: then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves: here and there she saw cell-phones and purses hung upon pegs. She took down a bottle from one of the shelves as she passed: it was labeled "Carona™," but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to throw the bottle, for fear of it killing somebody a ways off, so she managed to put it into one of the purses as she fell past it.
Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end? "I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?" she said aloud. "Jack and Cheif will miss me very much to-night, I should think! I certainly hope someone will give them some food and water at dinner time. Oh! I wish that they were here with me! There are no bones in the air to chew on, I'm afraid, but you might chew on a log, and that's very much like a stick, you know. But would a dog chew on a log, I wonder?" And here Kimbre began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, "Do dogs eat logs? Do dogs eat logs?" and sometimes "Do logs eat dogs?" for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Jack and Cheif, and was saying to them very earnestly, "Now tell me the truth have either of you ever eaten a log?", when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came on a freshly made king-sized bed, and the fall was over.
Kimbre was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long hallway, and the small man was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Kimbre like the wind, and was just in time to hear him say, as it turned a corner, "Oh bald spots and mustaches, how late it's getting!" She was close behind him when she turned the corner, but the man was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.
There were doors to the rooms all round the hallway, but she didn't have any keycards and they were locked; and when Kimbre had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.
Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it but a tiny house-keeping key, and Kimbre's first idea was that this might belong to the doors in the hallway; but alas! Either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, it was the size of a memory card for a cell phone. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she swiped the house-keeping key, and to her great delight it opened!
Kimbre opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those kewl fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway; "and even if my head would go through," thought poor Kimbre, "it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could if I only knew how to begin." For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately that Kimbre had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.
There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it ("which certainly was not here before," said Kimbre), and tied round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words "DRINK ME" beautifully printed on it in large letters.
It was all very well to say "Drink me," but the wise little Kimbre was not going to do that in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she said, "and see whether it's marked 'poison' or not"; for she had seen several nice little movies about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that if you drink much from a bottle marked "poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
However, this bottle was not marked "poison," so Kimbre ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot buttered toast), she very soon finished it off.
"What a curious feeling!" said Kimbre. "I must be shutting up like a telescope."
And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further.
After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas! poor Kimbre! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the house-keeping key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor thing sat down and cried.
"Come, there's no use in crying like that!" said Kimbre to herself, rather sharply, "I advise you to leave off this minute!" She generally gave herself very good advise (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes. "But it's no use now," thought poor Kimbre.
Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in currants. "Well, I'll eat it," thought Kimbre, and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!"
She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself "Which way? Which way?" holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this is what generally happens when one eats cake; but Kimbre had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seamed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.
So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.
There were doors to the rooms all round the hallway, but she didn't have any keycards and they were locked; and when Kimbre had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.
Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it but a tiny house-keeping key, and Kimbre's first idea was that this might belong to the doors in the hallway; but alas! Either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, it was the size of a memory card for a cell phone. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she swiped the house-keeping key, and to her great delight it opened!
Kimbre opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those kewl fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway; "and even if my head would go through," thought poor Kimbre, "it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could if I only knew how to begin." For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately that Kimbre had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.
There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it ("which certainly was not here before," said Kimbre), and tied round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words "DRINK ME" beautifully printed on it in large letters.
It was all very well to say "Drink me," but the wise little Kimbre was not going to do that in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she said, "and see whether it's marked 'poison' or not"; for she had seen several nice little movies about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that if you drink much from a bottle marked "poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
However, this bottle was not marked "poison," so Kimbre ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot buttered toast), she very soon finished it off.
"What a curious feeling!" said Kimbre. "I must be shutting up like a telescope."
And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further.
After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas! poor Kimbre! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the house-keeping key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor thing sat down and cried.
"Come, there's no use in crying like that!" said Kimbre to herself, rather sharply, "I advise you to leave off this minute!" She generally gave herself very good advise (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes. "But it's no use now," thought poor Kimbre.
Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in currants. "Well, I'll eat it," thought Kimbre, and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!"
She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself "Which way? Which way?" holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this is what generally happens when one eats cake; but Kimbre had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seamed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.
So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.
Monday, May 2, 2011
[dark thoughts]
When death does come for me
I shall rejoice
Chemicals of the brain
Cannot compare
To the pain of the body
Leading to the
Pain swirling in my mind
And frustrations
Of day to day living
Women are my only source
Of pleasure now
And even their dull thorns
Cut me to shreds
What else can be in store
As I bleed out
But more agonizing
And horrible
Suffering before me
I shall rejoice
Chemicals of the brain
Cannot compare
To the pain of the body
Leading to the
Pain swirling in my mind
And frustrations
Of day to day living
Women are my only source
Of pleasure now
And even their dull thorns
Cut me to shreds
What else can be in store
As I bleed out
But more agonizing
And horrible
Suffering before me
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Viva Le Blog!
Some times shit is just too crazy. New job, new girlfriend, no time. Not to worry though, I have lots of posts started and will be completing some of them very soon. Just need to finish getting the thoughts on the proverbial paper.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Weekend Of Manliness
After working a desk job for too long I am finally back on the right track. I'm typing this post with cramped fingers and a sore back and I am so grateful. I believe that Tyler Durden was absolutely correct when he spoke of "a generation of men being raised by women". All these guys wearing pink shirts and khakis need to have a permanent mushroom stamp embedded right between their eyes. It's okay to do something 'less manly' once in a while, but there are too many so-called guys that have been pusified into touchy-feely school girls who hide behind rules and laws to save themselves from getting bitch slapped for their stupidity. I, for one, am very happy to be able to take a huge step in the other direction. Aside from the change in employment I accomplished many things that some may consider to be outdated or even sexist, but I am all for it.
The weekend started with me driving up to Little Spoon's house for the evening. Without giving too much away let's just say that when the time came she didn't want me to go home and neither did I. The next day my abs and arms were sore and I was dying for a sandwich so I bought her, her kids and I Subway for lunch/breakfast. I was still tired, so things kinda blurred together after that. I taught her two year old how to use a screw driver and even her sister's 6 year old can now properly operate a hammer without crushing fingers. I carried a TV stand all by myself, much to her sister's surprise, and carried Little Spoon to her bedroom after everyone else had gone to bed.
The following morning she insisted on washing my clothes and fixing me supper as payment for everything I had done and helping keep her kids in line when she needed a break. She even fed me bites of her ice cream and her cookie. Yeah, I was that good this weekend. Guys who drive Honda Civics read about stuff like this in romance novels. They bookmark the Vogue Magazine they stole out of the waiting room where they get their hair cut so they can read about it when they're alone in bed. I've been trying my whole life to have a manly epic moment like this. A lot of guys are just demanding jerks, but everything that she did for me this weekend was strictly voluntary. Which made it all that much better.
Sunday night was truly phenomenal. She sent me a sexy picture of her in the bedroom while I was taking a shower. It's one of those pictures that you hang on to for the duration of the relationship or longer. When I finally got to lay down with her though she played hard to get. Saying that "She was tired," or "that she may read her Kindle for a while." Finally I decided to just take what I wanted: her. And that was exactly what she wanted. Before too long I heard her cry out my name followed by those magic, cock-hardening, words "I'm cumming!"
Afterwards she got dressed again and started taking pictures with her phone. First of herself, then me and one of us together. They were all very PG-13, but the process of taking them was a lot of fun. She got to talking about sexy outfits that she had and the topic of a wedding dress that she never got to use came up. I told her that I would love to see it and she hopped out of bed to grab it from the closet. Before she could turn to show me I took off her shirt and asked if I could take a picture of her in the dress. I zipped her up then sat on the bed and pulled her close enough to straddle me.
I gave her the most passionate kiss I could as I scooped her up and laid her down. With one hand I held both of her wrists firmly to the bed and scrunched up the hem of her dress as I nibbled on her neck. She still had not put on any panties and I could tell that she was really enjoying this. The light from the bathroom was still spilling out to where I laid on top of her on the bed. Her forehead was scrunched together and elevated. Mouth hanging open in an 'Ah' sound as she breathed in and out in short bursts. I decided to take this moment to touch her legs with my free hand and stick my tongue in her mouth. We both breathed harder as I slid into her a little deeper. In the final moment, before I came, I remember looking down at those round, soft breasts bouncing and her freshly shaven legs leading down to where I had hiked up her dress. Suddenly I knew that there was no going back and I pulled out and bit down gently on her breast through the thick, frosting-white padding. I felt myself throbbing now in the open air and she asked if I was okay. "Mmmmmm hmmm." I mumbled around her C-cup. I looked up and saw a wide smile on her face as she realized what had just happened. She had waited all weekend for me to cum. "I WIN!!" she announced victoriously.
Despite popular opinion, some girls really do want a man to be manly and do manly things. As a man sometimes you have to go and take what you want. I wanted her and that was exactly what she was hoping for.
I'm sure that some are not going to see the humor in all of this so please leave your complaints in the comments below.
The weekend started with me driving up to Little Spoon's house for the evening. Without giving too much away let's just say that when the time came she didn't want me to go home and neither did I. The next day my abs and arms were sore and I was dying for a sandwich so I bought her, her kids and I Subway for lunch/breakfast. I was still tired, so things kinda blurred together after that. I taught her two year old how to use a screw driver and even her sister's 6 year old can now properly operate a hammer without crushing fingers. I carried a TV stand all by myself, much to her sister's surprise, and carried Little Spoon to her bedroom after everyone else had gone to bed.
The following morning she insisted on washing my clothes and fixing me supper as payment for everything I had done and helping keep her kids in line when she needed a break. She even fed me bites of her ice cream and her cookie. Yeah, I was that good this weekend. Guys who drive Honda Civics read about stuff like this in romance novels. They bookmark the Vogue Magazine they stole out of the waiting room where they get their hair cut so they can read about it when they're alone in bed. I've been trying my whole life to have a manly epic moment like this. A lot of guys are just demanding jerks, but everything that she did for me this weekend was strictly voluntary. Which made it all that much better.
Sunday night was truly phenomenal. She sent me a sexy picture of her in the bedroom while I was taking a shower. It's one of those pictures that you hang on to for the duration of the relationship or longer. When I finally got to lay down with her though she played hard to get. Saying that "She was tired," or "that she may read her Kindle for a while." Finally I decided to just take what I wanted: her. And that was exactly what she wanted. Before too long I heard her cry out my name followed by those magic, cock-hardening, words "I'm cumming!"
Afterwards she got dressed again and started taking pictures with her phone. First of herself, then me and one of us together. They were all very PG-13, but the process of taking them was a lot of fun. She got to talking about sexy outfits that she had and the topic of a wedding dress that she never got to use came up. I told her that I would love to see it and she hopped out of bed to grab it from the closet. Before she could turn to show me I took off her shirt and asked if I could take a picture of her in the dress. I zipped her up then sat on the bed and pulled her close enough to straddle me.
I gave her the most passionate kiss I could as I scooped her up and laid her down. With one hand I held both of her wrists firmly to the bed and scrunched up the hem of her dress as I nibbled on her neck. She still had not put on any panties and I could tell that she was really enjoying this. The light from the bathroom was still spilling out to where I laid on top of her on the bed. Her forehead was scrunched together and elevated. Mouth hanging open in an 'Ah' sound as she breathed in and out in short bursts. I decided to take this moment to touch her legs with my free hand and stick my tongue in her mouth. We both breathed harder as I slid into her a little deeper. In the final moment, before I came, I remember looking down at those round, soft breasts bouncing and her freshly shaven legs leading down to where I had hiked up her dress. Suddenly I knew that there was no going back and I pulled out and bit down gently on her breast through the thick, frosting-white padding. I felt myself throbbing now in the open air and she asked if I was okay. "Mmmmmm hmmm." I mumbled around her C-cup. I looked up and saw a wide smile on her face as she realized what had just happened. She had waited all weekend for me to cum. "I WIN!!" she announced victoriously.
Despite popular opinion, some girls really do want a man to be manly and do manly things. As a man sometimes you have to go and take what you want. I wanted her and that was exactly what she was hoping for.
I'm sure that some are not going to see the humor in all of this so please leave your complaints in the comments below.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
[good or bad] Part 2
(Read Part 1 first!)
For the rest of the week I was truly hoping that the third time's a charm. All this peanut-butter-hold-the-jelly stuff was getting hard to swallow. It was do or die time. Little Spoon was having a birthday party and I was invited. Either I was getting laid this time or I was going to swear off women all together.
For the rest of the week I was truly hoping that the third time's a charm. All this peanut-butter-hold-the-jelly stuff was getting hard to swallow. It was do or die time. Little Spoon was having a birthday party and I was invited. Either I was getting laid this time or I was going to swear off women all together.
I got ready after work and drove to a bar in Little Spoon's town. Jasmine was there and very happy to see me. She gave me a hello hug and whispered in my ear "Hit on her tonight. We'll have our chance later." 'Okay,' I thought. 'That makes any decision making tonight a lot easier.'
The night was an interesting array of ups and downs. The girls were very flighty. Nobody seemed to stay put for very long and I spent much of the night talking to Jasmine. At one point one of Little Spoon's friends came up with a guy in tow. The music was loud so I had to assume that the round guy, beer in hand, didn't realize I could here him propositioning the girl that I had driven there to be with. The audacity of some people really baffles me. This was, in fact, the very reason that I don't like guys. I may be male, but I'm also the first to admit that guys are assholes. I waited for Little Spoon to tell him off and when it didn't happen initially I first considered punching him in the face and then considered going home with Jasmine instead. I mean, it wasn't like I was really with anyone here. She had only personally invited me and picked out a skirt for me because she knew I thought they were sexy.
Either way, she finally told him something and he walked away to the bar. I don't know exactly what she said, but it wasn't a 'no'. 'Damn women,' I thought. 'Why do they always have to be such a pain in the ass?' But with him gone for now I decided to go to the bathroom while I had the chance.
On my way back I again had the sudden urge to punch this guy in the face. Little Spoon had joined him up at the bar. Was this some sort of test? Was she wanting to see what I would do to get her? I hate playing games, but that's not to say I don't know how they work. I sat down at the table and took a drink of my Corona trying to play it cool. The bitter lime taste seemed to stain my lower lip and my mind started grinding at what possibilities lay before me. Either I A: Punch him B: Make out with Jasmine when she gets back or C: Finish my beer and leave.
I was still sober enough that my brain knew the right answer, but she did look pretty sexy in that short skirt and my hormones wanted to compromise. He seemed pretty drunk. Worse case scenario is I get kicked out of and drive home anyways. I walked up to the bar and asked Little Spoon "Is this guy still bothering you?" I could tell that my adrenaline was already pumping a little just because I don't exactly remember what she said but her and I ended up walking back over to the table and sitting down. Leaving the larger version of Tweedledum sitting there alone with his beer.
To this day I don't know if she was just testing me. I just know that I don't like anything that even feels like a test. Thankfully the rest of the night seemed to go a little easier. The bar closed and Jasmine had me take Little Spoon home. When I got there I was even invited to come inside, but on one condition. I couldn't stay. She wasn't ready for me to meet her kids, but I could lay down with her for a while.
Either way, she finally told him something and he walked away to the bar. I don't know exactly what she said, but it wasn't a 'no'. 'Damn women,' I thought. 'Why do they always have to be such a pain in the ass?' But with him gone for now I decided to go to the bathroom while I had the chance.
On my way back I again had the sudden urge to punch this guy in the face. Little Spoon had joined him up at the bar. Was this some sort of test? Was she wanting to see what I would do to get her? I hate playing games, but that's not to say I don't know how they work. I sat down at the table and took a drink of my Corona trying to play it cool. The bitter lime taste seemed to stain my lower lip and my mind started grinding at what possibilities lay before me. Either I A: Punch him B: Make out with Jasmine when she gets back or C: Finish my beer and leave.
I was still sober enough that my brain knew the right answer, but she did look pretty sexy in that short skirt and my hormones wanted to compromise. He seemed pretty drunk. Worse case scenario is I get kicked out of and drive home anyways. I walked up to the bar and asked Little Spoon "Is this guy still bothering you?" I could tell that my adrenaline was already pumping a little just because I don't exactly remember what she said but her and I ended up walking back over to the table and sitting down. Leaving the larger version of Tweedledum sitting there alone with his beer.
To this day I don't know if she was just testing me. I just know that I don't like anything that even feels like a test. Thankfully the rest of the night seemed to go a little easier. The bar closed and Jasmine had me take Little Spoon home. When I got there I was even invited to come inside, but on one condition. I couldn't stay. She wasn't ready for me to meet her kids, but I could lay down with her for a while.
Her alarm went off at 6AM and I began my trek home. I made a quick pass through the Baker and Barstow and Berdoo of the region. I felt like I was headed back to LA, into frantic oblivion: safety, obscurity, just another freak in the Freak Kingdom. Hungry, hung over, tired and still a little drunk, but at least I'd finally broken the trend.
I felt like this must have been the type of rigorous training that they put marines through on their last days of boot camp. a little breakfast, little sleep, work, drive out of town, drink, have strenuous sexual activities, sleep 1 hour, drive, lil food, blog about it while the sun rises and try to remember every detail. It's time for a fucking nap.
Monday, February 14, 2011
[good or bad] Part 1
There's been a strange pattern emerging at the end of 2010 and it's carrying on into the new year. Twice now I've taken home a girl. She sleeps next to me, but there was no sex. It's an odd thing, but in both cases the girl was just exhausted and fell asleep in seconds. Of course, there's always something important going on the next day and they had to get up and leave.
The first occasion was a textbook one-night stand minus the sex. She was traveling through and wanted to see the city and get some sleep. We drank, hung out with a friend, then she and I curled up on my couch to watch a movie. One second she's talking and the next I ask her a question and get no response whatsoever. The following morning she's talking about how we almost had sex, but that she was asleep before she knew it. Then she hopped in her car, headed for Tennessee and that was the last I saw her.
It was very much like having a craving for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You open the refrigerator and realize that you loaned the only jar of jelly you had to the neighbor last week and it never came back. The peanut butter sandwich is okay, but that craving is still there. If I were this nice all the time I would be starving and never get laid at all.
The second occasion was even crazier. Deserving of an entry into the pages of Murphy's Law.
The Iskanoff Principle: If a guy brings home 2 women and doesn't have sex with the first one, then nobody is having sex.
I was invited into the lion's den of get-togethers. It was an all-u-can-drink we-hate-men party of five. Sixth wheel may not be a real term, but it feels right. The table was just big enough for 5 chairs. There were nasty stares from some and others refused eye contact all together. Thankfully, I had at least 2 fans that were willing to not kill me on the spot for having a penis.
The first was the girl who had invited me in the first place, Jasmine. I knew her from a birthday party sometime back, but hadn't really seen her since. Still, she was easy to pick out of the crowd and I'll probably always picture her the way I saw her that night. Dark red lipstick emphasized her wide smile, a sparkle in her eyes that gives the impression of a happy soul, and smooth, white cleavage framed with a low-cut black sleeveless top. A very classy girl, always happy and energetic, ready for fun. The sweet perfume that she was wearing that night lingered lightly on my blanket causing me to have erotic dreams for better than a week.
The second was a new face with alluring eyes and a mischieviously cute smile. Let's call her Little Spoon. I Didn't know her very well at the time, but she was the one who was gonna break this no-sex habit. My savior, so to speak, but not until later. The fates had this night planned out quite a bit differently. It was like that of a good mystery novel where you really don't know what's gonna happen until you get to the very last page.
Both girls lived out of town and it was really starting to get late. We stopped by my place to use the restroom and almost stayed there for the night, but it was decided that food was to be had first. I don't remember quite when the topic had come up, but at some point one girl looked at the other and said "We should take him home." It's something that most guys never hear and only a select few have the opportunity to actually go home with them both. I wasn't sure if she was just joking or if it was the alcohol talking, but I had to try hard not to get my hopes up. They were incredibly hot and I really wanted to sleep with both of them, preferably together.
After a trip to IHOP the idea of the three of us together came up again, but they were getting tired and had thought of just driving home to their respective houses. However, since I was the most sober I was the one driving and made sure that everyone ended up back at my house for the evening. After they had decided to stay they mentioned pajamas, which I hadn't expected. I only had one pair so they took them and both went to the bathroom to get changed. When they came back out I had to try very hard not to smile or show how turned on I was. Jasmine came out wearing a shirt and black underwear and Little Spoon had on my pajamas because she wasn't wearing any underwear that night.
But to my dismay they were soon talking of how tired they both were. Little Spoon had quickly decided that the bed was to be hers for the night and Jasmine wanted to fall asleep on the couch while watching a movie. It was at this point that I realized that there was no real chance of a threesome. Actually there was very little chance of anything happening. If Jasmine and I were to start having sex on the couch Little Spoon would certainly hear us in the next room. Yep, the rest of the night was sure to be one moral decision after another. Little Spoon disappeared into the bedroom and Jasmine and I layed down on the couch with her in front and my arm wrapped around her. I remember whispering something in her ear as I kissed the back of her shoulder and touched her smooth legs. I traced a line over the sexy curve of her hip and moved my hand up to cup her breast and that was when I realized that she was already asleep.
This was quickly turning into a repeat of the last time, but what was I to do? I did enjoy the company, but before too long the movie was over, my arm was asleep and I was overheating. I decided to get up and reevaluate the situation. I got some water out of the fridge and went to the bathroom. When I got back to the living room I noticed that Jasmine had stretched out and taken up the whole couch. In truth, I have yet to see a couch that was intended for two people to sleep comfortably on it at the same time, but now what?
I peered into the bedroom and saw Little Spoon curled up facing the wall. The blankets made an outline that was a little hazy in the dark, but you could tell that they were pulled up close around her. I wasn't about to wake her up and start a fight between her and Jasmine about changing girls in the middle of the night, but the list of places I could lay down were becoming very limited and the length of the evening was starting to weigh on me.
I couldn't decide if I should snuggle up to her and had finally decided to give her her space. I determined that I rest for a few hours then wake Jasmine up with some kisses and heavy petting.
Next thing I know the bed is shifting and Little Spoon is walking through the kitchen to the bathroom. I open my eyes enough to realize that the sun is coming up and I missed my chance. They were getting ready to go home. I really hate being a nice guy sometimes.
(Continue with Part 2)
The first occasion was a textbook one-night stand minus the sex. She was traveling through and wanted to see the city and get some sleep. We drank, hung out with a friend, then she and I curled up on my couch to watch a movie. One second she's talking and the next I ask her a question and get no response whatsoever. The following morning she's talking about how we almost had sex, but that she was asleep before she knew it. Then she hopped in her car, headed for Tennessee and that was the last I saw her.
It was very much like having a craving for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You open the refrigerator and realize that you loaned the only jar of jelly you had to the neighbor last week and it never came back. The peanut butter sandwich is okay, but that craving is still there. If I were this nice all the time I would be starving and never get laid at all.
The second occasion was even crazier. Deserving of an entry into the pages of Murphy's Law.
The Iskanoff Principle: If a guy brings home 2 women and doesn't have sex with the first one, then nobody is having sex.
I was invited into the lion's den of get-togethers. It was an all-u-can-drink we-hate-men party of five. Sixth wheel may not be a real term, but it feels right. The table was just big enough for 5 chairs. There were nasty stares from some and others refused eye contact all together. Thankfully, I had at least 2 fans that were willing to not kill me on the spot for having a penis.
The first was the girl who had invited me in the first place, Jasmine. I knew her from a birthday party sometime back, but hadn't really seen her since. Still, she was easy to pick out of the crowd and I'll probably always picture her the way I saw her that night. Dark red lipstick emphasized her wide smile, a sparkle in her eyes that gives the impression of a happy soul, and smooth, white cleavage framed with a low-cut black sleeveless top. A very classy girl, always happy and energetic, ready for fun. The sweet perfume that she was wearing that night lingered lightly on my blanket causing me to have erotic dreams for better than a week.
The second was a new face with alluring eyes and a mischieviously cute smile. Let's call her Little Spoon. I Didn't know her very well at the time, but she was the one who was gonna break this no-sex habit. My savior, so to speak, but not until later. The fates had this night planned out quite a bit differently. It was like that of a good mystery novel where you really don't know what's gonna happen until you get to the very last page.
Both girls lived out of town and it was really starting to get late. We stopped by my place to use the restroom and almost stayed there for the night, but it was decided that food was to be had first. I don't remember quite when the topic had come up, but at some point one girl looked at the other and said "We should take him home." It's something that most guys never hear and only a select few have the opportunity to actually go home with them both. I wasn't sure if she was just joking or if it was the alcohol talking, but I had to try hard not to get my hopes up. They were incredibly hot and I really wanted to sleep with both of them, preferably together.
After a trip to IHOP the idea of the three of us together came up again, but they were getting tired and had thought of just driving home to their respective houses. However, since I was the most sober I was the one driving and made sure that everyone ended up back at my house for the evening. After they had decided to stay they mentioned pajamas, which I hadn't expected. I only had one pair so they took them and both went to the bathroom to get changed. When they came back out I had to try very hard not to smile or show how turned on I was. Jasmine came out wearing a shirt and black underwear and Little Spoon had on my pajamas because she wasn't wearing any underwear that night.
But to my dismay they were soon talking of how tired they both were. Little Spoon had quickly decided that the bed was to be hers for the night and Jasmine wanted to fall asleep on the couch while watching a movie. It was at this point that I realized that there was no real chance of a threesome. Actually there was very little chance of anything happening. If Jasmine and I were to start having sex on the couch Little Spoon would certainly hear us in the next room. Yep, the rest of the night was sure to be one moral decision after another. Little Spoon disappeared into the bedroom and Jasmine and I layed down on the couch with her in front and my arm wrapped around her. I remember whispering something in her ear as I kissed the back of her shoulder and touched her smooth legs. I traced a line over the sexy curve of her hip and moved my hand up to cup her breast and that was when I realized that she was already asleep.
This was quickly turning into a repeat of the last time, but what was I to do? I did enjoy the company, but before too long the movie was over, my arm was asleep and I was overheating. I decided to get up and reevaluate the situation. I got some water out of the fridge and went to the bathroom. When I got back to the living room I noticed that Jasmine had stretched out and taken up the whole couch. In truth, I have yet to see a couch that was intended for two people to sleep comfortably on it at the same time, but now what?
I peered into the bedroom and saw Little Spoon curled up facing the wall. The blankets made an outline that was a little hazy in the dark, but you could tell that they were pulled up close around her. I wasn't about to wake her up and start a fight between her and Jasmine about changing girls in the middle of the night, but the list of places I could lay down were becoming very limited and the length of the evening was starting to weigh on me.
I couldn't decide if I should snuggle up to her and had finally decided to give her her space. I determined that I rest for a few hours then wake Jasmine up with some kisses and heavy petting.
Next thing I know the bed is shifting and Little Spoon is walking through the kitchen to the bathroom. I open my eyes enough to realize that the sun is coming up and I missed my chance. They were getting ready to go home. I really hate being a nice guy sometimes.
(Continue with Part 2)
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