So now I get to tell all about Dick. First of all, he's the king of the assholes, he's got assholery down to an art form, he wins the Gold for Assholeness. For years while we were together, i knew this, and we both just did our best to cause the other misery. Which is why i'm glad it's over. However, I will say that one thing is my fault - the lack of good sex. I'm not an idealist. I know there's no such thing as happily ever after and knights in shining armor, and I get that a woman should tell her man what she wants rather than hope he figures it out on his own. I was always very vocal about what I wanted Dick to do for me, in all ways - except in bed. For some reason I thought that if I TOLD him how I wanted to be fucked, it would take all the passion out of it. I just Expected him to know how I like it and to do it to me right. With some prodding and hints, I am guessing he caught on to a lot of my ways through the years, and sex with him before the breakup was always very satisfying, though staid and rather 'vanilla' . Then we broke up. The first time we fucked after the breakup was awkward and hot in that I knew he had a girl and I was the other woman. But the second time we fucked, I had a feeling I wouldn't be fucking him many more times since he was getting in deep with his girl and I figured his moral code would stop his visits soon. (obviously, his moral compass points in whatever direction gets his dick laid, lucky for me)
We were smoking in the living room, me straddling his lap, him kissing hits back into my mouth, when he asked me if he was good in bed. I guess his girly had him wondering, since she was a regular sort of girl and took more than ten seconds of sex to cum. I told him he was pretty good but nothing to write home about not wanting him to get a swelled head. He asked me what he could do to make it better. I don't know what possessed me, maybe it was that I was incredibly high - but I just out-and-out told him to, "Fuck me Hard. Rough. Honestly, a little pain drives me wild." And more than that, I told him, "take charge." He just sort of nodded knowingly and pushed me off of him and started for the bed. When we arrived in the bedroom, he told me to get on the bed, and I gave him a look, so he sort of threw me on it.
Now Dick was always good in bed, but he was also a gentle sort of lover, always quietly inquiring if this or that felt good, did I want more touching, kissing, etc. He was never a forceful sort. His immediate change into a take-charge type at first confused me, and I balked, shoving against his chest as he crawled up over me and began tugging my clothes off. He grabbed my wrist and pinned me against the bed and said, "You don't tell me what to do anymore,"
Oh man, I about moaned in ecstasy right there. See, I'm in control in all areas of my life - certainly I always was in charge of 'us'. So what turns ME on the most is when a guy TAKES control away from me. In a sense it's like to me his desire is so great for me he can no longer give a fuck what I want, he's taking my body for his pleasure right then and there . . . and knowing my body can give him such desire and pleasure . . . Oh God, I'm getting hot just thinking about it . . . and after a non-scientific poll of my friends, this appears to be a theme for us women who are in control of our households. Any male readers, take note!
Anyways, FINALLY after seven years of good sex, this man fucks me down so hard that i'm left at the end just kind of trembling and whimpering a bit. I was in openmouthed shock at how good it was. I mean, he TOOK control. Left bite marks on my thighs, bent me over the bed, anal, oral, you name it, I got fucked down proper. Add to that that he's talking dirty to me the whole time and interjecting comments of "God, you're so hot" to stroke my ego, and I was awash in feelings of immense satisfaction. The man doesn't know it, but he could have me wrapped around his little finger with sex that good. Which is why I don't tell every other guy i'm with how to do me right - the last thing I need is to be dickwhipped in my next relationship.
And he's done it that way every time since, and we've rendezvoused at least once a week since our breakup, which is slim pickins in my book, but after all he's got another girl to attend to. He's complained some about his dick being tired but yet never failed to leave me so doped up on love I don't even think about sex for days afterward unless it's foisted upon me. He has admitted to putting HER off on Saturday nights with the admonishment that he was tired from being out in the sun at the kid's sports event. (he goes with ME to the events - his idiot girl drops him off at my house for the events, cause she has to work. idiot.) All the while, he comes over, tells me all the things I always wanted to hear for the whole time we were together - i'm beautiful, i'm hot, i'm sexy, he loves and misses me - he's even made unfavorable comparisons between me and Tatum, being that I'm skinny and amazingly hot in bed and how fucking her is a 30 minute chore. All things he didn't have to say to me to get me in bed - many of them said after we'd fucked. And then he gets up, puts his clothes on (after a shower to get off my smell) and grabs his phone and goes back to her, leaving me both loved up and confused. Which is why he wins the gold for assholery. I've tried to stop, honestly I have, but I would be willing to bet that if any of YOU found a man who made you cum two hundred times every time you had sex, YOU would sleep with him every time the opportunity arose, unhealthy emotions tied into it or no. Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . . .
With luck, Dick will have some, ah, "visitation" with his kid tomorrow . . . here at my house . . . one can only hope, i've had a bitch of a week. A fantastic dicking-down sounds wonderful. Readers: please feel free to leave comments on my posts, there should be a link at the bottom of each post . . .
Until I sin again . . .
~A
Thursday, September 25, 2008
One wild Fucking weekend
Now we get to the really good part - the part of my story where I fess up to a night of whorishness, in which I attain new levels of whorishness I didn't think possible.
I'd been searching the internet for possible dates, just kind of puttering around, and checked my myspace account and found out an old friend of mine had looked me up and left her phone number there. She lives about fifty miles away in a tiny podunk town where the idea of fun involves a tailgate and a sixpack on a dirt road. I called her up just to see what she was doing, and she invited me out to her house for the night (on a Saturday) to a party she and her boyfriend were throwing. this girl, Cammie, has two kids of her own and has had a rough sort of life, but i've known her since we were eleven and weve got history of another sort - she's the only girl i'd fooled around with below our belt buckles. I go out there and help her pick up stuff for the barbecue at the local store and end up wandering around her house most of the night. Because i've known her so long, I also know her sister and brother who were both there. But, that's ALL I knew, out of some thirty-odd guests in this tiny town. And early on in the evening someone stole my seat, so i just wandered about. I wandered in and out of the house and a couple of times Cammie caught me by the bathroom, so she dragged me inside and assaulted my mouth with her tongue. I was bewildered at first but grew accustomed to the idea - after all, we'd messed around before, so why not? I left the bathroom quite a few times with my hair a bit dissheveled and a glazed look in my eyes. I got talked into playing a harsh game of volleyball where I managed to bruise myself all the fuck over - this game lasted all day and night, i'm telling you, because these drunkards had to stop every point to swig beers and/or pee. After that game, Cammie and her Boyfriend started arguing loudly and drunkenly so I wandered off and started asking the usual suspects about how I could smoke some weed. Eventually I got introduced to this guy who took me out in his very expensive truck for a drive, and on some backroad we smoked his very expensive weed and he hopped on me quicker than a duck on a junebug. He was cute enough, but earlier in the evening i'd been talking to Cammie's brother Dave and was thinking about indulging one of my little-girl fantasies and having my way with him. I made the pot Romeo take me back to the party after about a half hour of making out - I mean, hey, the guy DID get me high and kissing doesn't hurt anybody. I proceeded to make my intentions known to Dave, and he accepted my attention with an "aw, shucks" attitude and tried to downplay himself, but I wasn't having it. I remember that he opened my car door for me when we went over to his friends' house to get me high again. I really like that in a guy. Of course we ended up back at Cammie's, after everyone else had moved on, and Even though I had to make the first move he was agreeable to getting laid as I knew he would be. He still had the aura of " I don't know why you'd want ME, but i'm not gonna argue . . ." about him, and as drunk as he was it certainly didn't take long, and then he passed smooth out. the room for our rendezvous had no AC, and was hot as fuck, so I extricated myself from halfway under him, did the midnight search for my clothes around the floor and took myself into the living room where there was an AC unit blowing about sixty degrees - far too cold. I sat huddled on the couch for awhile, a big sigh of self disgust on my lips, when Cammie's bedroom door opens and there she stands soundlessly. I whispered her name and it was like i'd woken her up; she comes and sits next to me in the dark and asks ME what happened. I assume she meant, what happened to her, so I told her I honestly didn't know. She tells me she remembers arguing with her boyfriend and me being gone with Dave and nothing else (she HAD been passed out too). I tell her I was thinking about leaving and she told me I couldn't leave yet. I turn to her and say, "why?" and she just says, "because" and starts french kissing me and goes pretty much immediately for my crotch. Clothes go flying; girls just make all sense go out the window, they are too hot by far. Girls kiss hotter, they taste better, they're soft and more inviting . . . At some point, of course, I'm coming all over the place with a chagrined look on (in the dark) and she's whispering, "whoa - i can make you come . . ."
Afterwards,I notice the evil grin all over my face as I do yet another pitch-black roundup of my clothes. I toss some panties at her and she starts to giggle, saying, "these are SOO not mine" and as I snatch them back from her I dissolve into giggles too. Cammie's been with one other girl - coincidentally, Dave's last girlfriend. Dave walked in on Cammie with her head between his girl's legs. Cammie mentions this and only then asks me if I and Dave did anything. "Oh, well, you know . . ." is my only answer. Cammie, the drama queen, helps me pack all my shit up and then proceeds to go into the bedroom and pick a fight with her passed out man. I split for the hills, leaving a note on Dave's windshield to call me.
So it's like 3 Am, i'm driving through backwater towns in the middle of nowhere, halflost, and I get a call on my cell from Lance. I answer it just because I happened to be next to my cell at 3AM. He's home from a raunchy night out and wants to know if I want to come over. I paused for a long moment, gears whirring in my head. "Well, sure, why not." I answer, and proceed to Lance's place while on my way home for a satisfying romp with another drunkard. At the time it didn't register as to what a ho-ish thing I was doing - it was only afterwards on my way home that it sunk in how much of a whore i'd been that particular night. I would have thought only prostitutes could get lucky three times in one evening, but lo and behold, I've crowned myself Queen Ho.
Don't worry, I have a massive collection of condoms on my person and i've actually been behaving myself here lately . . . well mostly . . . After all, if i'm completely good, i'd have nothing to write about and no fun whatsoever.
And that's not all. Late the next evening, Dick shows up for his usual romp with me. I of course can't say to him " Not now, honey, i've been fucking too many people . . ." so I have to take all he dishes out. Which is to say a lot. But i'll get to THAT next time . . .
I'd been searching the internet for possible dates, just kind of puttering around, and checked my myspace account and found out an old friend of mine had looked me up and left her phone number there. She lives about fifty miles away in a tiny podunk town where the idea of fun involves a tailgate and a sixpack on a dirt road. I called her up just to see what she was doing, and she invited me out to her house for the night (on a Saturday) to a party she and her boyfriend were throwing. this girl, Cammie, has two kids of her own and has had a rough sort of life, but i've known her since we were eleven and weve got history of another sort - she's the only girl i'd fooled around with below our belt buckles. I go out there and help her pick up stuff for the barbecue at the local store and end up wandering around her house most of the night. Because i've known her so long, I also know her sister and brother who were both there. But, that's ALL I knew, out of some thirty-odd guests in this tiny town. And early on in the evening someone stole my seat, so i just wandered about. I wandered in and out of the house and a couple of times Cammie caught me by the bathroom, so she dragged me inside and assaulted my mouth with her tongue. I was bewildered at first but grew accustomed to the idea - after all, we'd messed around before, so why not? I left the bathroom quite a few times with my hair a bit dissheveled and a glazed look in my eyes. I got talked into playing a harsh game of volleyball where I managed to bruise myself all the fuck over - this game lasted all day and night, i'm telling you, because these drunkards had to stop every point to swig beers and/or pee. After that game, Cammie and her Boyfriend started arguing loudly and drunkenly so I wandered off and started asking the usual suspects about how I could smoke some weed. Eventually I got introduced to this guy who took me out in his very expensive truck for a drive, and on some backroad we smoked his very expensive weed and he hopped on me quicker than a duck on a junebug. He was cute enough, but earlier in the evening i'd been talking to Cammie's brother Dave and was thinking about indulging one of my little-girl fantasies and having my way with him. I made the pot Romeo take me back to the party after about a half hour of making out - I mean, hey, the guy DID get me high and kissing doesn't hurt anybody. I proceeded to make my intentions known to Dave, and he accepted my attention with an "aw, shucks" attitude and tried to downplay himself, but I wasn't having it. I remember that he opened my car door for me when we went over to his friends' house to get me high again. I really like that in a guy. Of course we ended up back at Cammie's, after everyone else had moved on, and Even though I had to make the first move he was agreeable to getting laid as I knew he would be. He still had the aura of " I don't know why you'd want ME, but i'm not gonna argue . . ." about him, and as drunk as he was it certainly didn't take long, and then he passed smooth out. the room for our rendezvous had no AC, and was hot as fuck, so I extricated myself from halfway under him, did the midnight search for my clothes around the floor and took myself into the living room where there was an AC unit blowing about sixty degrees - far too cold. I sat huddled on the couch for awhile, a big sigh of self disgust on my lips, when Cammie's bedroom door opens and there she stands soundlessly. I whispered her name and it was like i'd woken her up; she comes and sits next to me in the dark and asks ME what happened. I assume she meant, what happened to her, so I told her I honestly didn't know. She tells me she remembers arguing with her boyfriend and me being gone with Dave and nothing else (she HAD been passed out too). I tell her I was thinking about leaving and she told me I couldn't leave yet. I turn to her and say, "why?" and she just says, "because" and starts french kissing me and goes pretty much immediately for my crotch. Clothes go flying; girls just make all sense go out the window, they are too hot by far. Girls kiss hotter, they taste better, they're soft and more inviting . . . At some point, of course, I'm coming all over the place with a chagrined look on (in the dark) and she's whispering, "whoa - i can make you come . . ."
Afterwards,I notice the evil grin all over my face as I do yet another pitch-black roundup of my clothes. I toss some panties at her and she starts to giggle, saying, "these are SOO not mine" and as I snatch them back from her I dissolve into giggles too. Cammie's been with one other girl - coincidentally, Dave's last girlfriend. Dave walked in on Cammie with her head between his girl's legs. Cammie mentions this and only then asks me if I and Dave did anything. "Oh, well, you know . . ." is my only answer. Cammie, the drama queen, helps me pack all my shit up and then proceeds to go into the bedroom and pick a fight with her passed out man. I split for the hills, leaving a note on Dave's windshield to call me.
So it's like 3 Am, i'm driving through backwater towns in the middle of nowhere, halflost, and I get a call on my cell from Lance. I answer it just because I happened to be next to my cell at 3AM. He's home from a raunchy night out and wants to know if I want to come over. I paused for a long moment, gears whirring in my head. "Well, sure, why not." I answer, and proceed to Lance's place while on my way home for a satisfying romp with another drunkard. At the time it didn't register as to what a ho-ish thing I was doing - it was only afterwards on my way home that it sunk in how much of a whore i'd been that particular night. I would have thought only prostitutes could get lucky three times in one evening, but lo and behold, I've crowned myself Queen Ho.
Don't worry, I have a massive collection of condoms on my person and i've actually been behaving myself here lately . . . well mostly . . . After all, if i'm completely good, i'd have nothing to write about and no fun whatsoever.
And that's not all. Late the next evening, Dick shows up for his usual romp with me. I of course can't say to him " Not now, honey, i've been fucking too many people . . ." so I have to take all he dishes out. Which is to say a lot. But i'll get to THAT next time . . .
Thursday, September 18, 2008
5. A night out with the girls
OK, I'm pretty sure my chronology is getting screwed up, but I want to get this written down before I forget too many of the already drunken details . . .
I am forever wanting to go shake my ass at a nightclub. It's fun, guys come on to me, the drinks taste great and are generally free, plus I get to act out on some of my bisexual fantasies with my totally hot girlfriends. So really I should find some single girlfriends. However, in the past I'd gone out with these girls before, back when I was tied to Dick (like TWICE) and they sure didn't do what I saw them do This night!
We hit the club and I kinda figured that since I was single and they were not, they'd be pointing many of the men in my general direction. So Wrong was I! These girls got progressively more aggressive and all up on these guys - in fact, I was less all-up-on the men than they were because at the time I hadn't fully embraced my inner Ho. They had, however - had their inner Ho in a choke hold I'm guessing. Embracing the hell out of it! Both of them were grinding their asses all up in dude's crotches and shit - and that's not the half of what I watched em do to each other. In fact it made me jealous! Granted these two have no shame when it comes to each other anyway since they've been there and done each other, but they certainly know how to put on a floor show. I've never imagined dancing could be so very suggestive - strippers have nothing on these two. Most of the night I was drunk and just watching them in half shock. And by the end of the evening, it was Lacey who'd given her phone number out. We'd all gotten sauced for free since we'd met up with a friend of Lacey's named Harley - he pulled off a hundred dollar bill from a wad of cash in his pocket and said, "Whatever you like, girls!" and proceeded to watch us eagerly down his free shots and drinks. I'm sure the drunken state of ourselves was worth every penny. I was all for going home with Harley, but Lacey dragged me out to the car, saying something about solidarity and Hos before bros. We made it back to Jem's place and all of us curled up together on her sectional and sort of cuddled a bit while tickling each other, calling each other "bitch" and generally just being frisky drunk. I remember waking up and looking down to see them both sprawled out and thinking how we looked like a pile of kittens all curled up together.
That very night (after awakening and dealing with a loverly hangover - theirs, not mine) I took my happy ass Back to the same club and lo and behold there was Harley, happy to see me returning on his investment. He was cute as hell and well worth getting drunk two nights in a row for. He had an awesome place with tons of cool gadgets and was excellent in the sack as well. Drunk I don't do too many tricks, but usually if I'm drunk it means the guy is as well so really my tricks would be wasted on someone who won't remember them. The next morning I had to bail early, and of course I haven't heard from him - it was a damn good time though, a fond memory filled with disco lights and the taste of vodka.
I am forever wanting to go shake my ass at a nightclub. It's fun, guys come on to me, the drinks taste great and are generally free, plus I get to act out on some of my bisexual fantasies with my totally hot girlfriends. So really I should find some single girlfriends. However, in the past I'd gone out with these girls before, back when I was tied to Dick (like TWICE) and they sure didn't do what I saw them do This night!
We hit the club and I kinda figured that since I was single and they were not, they'd be pointing many of the men in my general direction. So Wrong was I! These girls got progressively more aggressive and all up on these guys - in fact, I was less all-up-on the men than they were because at the time I hadn't fully embraced my inner Ho. They had, however - had their inner Ho in a choke hold I'm guessing. Embracing the hell out of it! Both of them were grinding their asses all up in dude's crotches and shit - and that's not the half of what I watched em do to each other. In fact it made me jealous! Granted these two have no shame when it comes to each other anyway since they've been there and done each other, but they certainly know how to put on a floor show. I've never imagined dancing could be so very suggestive - strippers have nothing on these two. Most of the night I was drunk and just watching them in half shock. And by the end of the evening, it was Lacey who'd given her phone number out. We'd all gotten sauced for free since we'd met up with a friend of Lacey's named Harley - he pulled off a hundred dollar bill from a wad of cash in his pocket and said, "Whatever you like, girls!" and proceeded to watch us eagerly down his free shots and drinks. I'm sure the drunken state of ourselves was worth every penny. I was all for going home with Harley, but Lacey dragged me out to the car, saying something about solidarity and Hos before bros. We made it back to Jem's place and all of us curled up together on her sectional and sort of cuddled a bit while tickling each other, calling each other "bitch" and generally just being frisky drunk. I remember waking up and looking down to see them both sprawled out and thinking how we looked like a pile of kittens all curled up together.
That very night (after awakening and dealing with a loverly hangover - theirs, not mine) I took my happy ass Back to the same club and lo and behold there was Harley, happy to see me returning on his investment. He was cute as hell and well worth getting drunk two nights in a row for. He had an awesome place with tons of cool gadgets and was excellent in the sack as well. Drunk I don't do too many tricks, but usually if I'm drunk it means the guy is as well so really my tricks would be wasted on someone who won't remember them. The next morning I had to bail early, and of course I haven't heard from him - it was a damn good time though, a fond memory filled with disco lights and the taste of vodka.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
4. The next week
It was still summertime, so my kids were staying at their grandma's house the next two weeks. this left me with an absurd amount of free time, which i recall spending at Merrill's house with Lacey, staying up very late playing RockBand or card games and rumming around with her. I even slept on their couch in order to avoid going home to a big empty bed. Sometime during this week both Lacey and I began hearing from Lacey's best friend Jem, whom she'd also kind of fallen out of touch with . . .
Where do I even begin to tell the tale of Lacey and Jem? They've been BFF since they met and have, ah, had Relations with each other tons. Yes both of their husbands know and still allow them to hang out together. Insane I know. Everything Lacey's done, Jem did about six months afterward - leaving her husband, having a worthless baby daddy, leaving that baby daddy and getting back with the husband - actually Jem is on a different schedule than Lacey and had a wayy different time whilst in the middle of her shit, but they are both on the same page again, with 3 kids apiece, one from some strangedick after leaving their hubby and going buckwild and stupid, and now back with hubby trying to make a go of it. Jem is an alright girl - very much her own person. Jem doesn't give a raging blue fuck what others think of her, she's loud and boisterous and ridiculous. Lacey loves her. And Jem is in love with Lacey. Jem was always infatuated with Lace - I think the physical relationship just cemented it. Jem gets superpissed at me for hanging around Lacey too much, very jealous and posessive is she. There's always been tension between she and I because Jem thinks I"m trying to take Lacey away from her, I guess. I've done everything to make Jem chill out, to no avail - even asked her straight up what the fuck was with her attitude and we hashed it all out one night and still whenever the both of us are around Lacey, Jem has to be the one sitting closest or the one talking the most or something - she's a very dominant person and I've only ever seen her defer to her mom and Lacey.
The week in question, I had the kids for the first part of it and sent them away for the weekend, and they ended up staying away the whole of the next week too. On friday the exDick got his kid and took it to his Dad's house not too far where i live, with Tatum on his heels of course. I behaved myself all that week until I saw Tatum with Dick - then I decided to go out and find some solace in someone else's arms. I hit my local nightclub, a little worried since I was out by myself with no girlfriends riding shotgun. I hit up the bar first thing and perched myself on a stool while I sipped on a drink. The dancefloor was pretty empty, and it had been an age since i'd visited the place. Nervous was I in my cute tshirt and tight jeans. It didn't take long before an older guy struck up a conversation with me and asked me to dance. Now, I suck at twostepping, but here in the south there isn't any help for it but to try harder. So I did. I'm pretty sure I ended up leading the poor guy - who towered over me in both height and brawn - and we sat back down after one song. He kept downplaying himself, saying "I can't imagine why a cute young thing like you would even be talking to an old fart like me . . ." He reminded me of my late husband, who was ten yrs my senior. then he pointed out a tall skinny guy in a cowboy hat down the bar a ways and motioned him over. The cowboy came over and sat down, tipped his hat (which was too cute) and introduced himself as Lance. Before I knew what had happened really, Lance had bought me a drink and the first guy was at the other end of the bar looking for all the world like he was pouting. Lance was shy as could be, it took some real prodding to get him to ask me to dance, and after a few drinks i asked him if he liked to smoke pot. His eyes sort of lit up and he says "Why? do you have some?" I said I knew where we could get high and he asked me if I could give him a ride there and back. Of course I knew what he was asking. He told his other buddy who'd stopped by to flirt with me a couple times that he would be home 'later', to not wait for him at the club, and together we sped off.
What shocked me about Lance was his tenderness with me. He kissed and caressed me so gently and carefully - it was almost like lovemaking and threw me for a loop. I'm no spring chicken, I know the difference bewtween fucking, sex and lovemaking, and this was certainly bordering on the lovin' part. Being tall and skinny, his dick followed suit. And stamina! oh my, there's something to be said for young bucks with stamina. I do so love being exhausted from coming so much. And yes, I told him about my tricks right before he commenced to touching me, and then he touched me and saw for himself, and said "That's awesome!" with a giant ass grin on his face. Afteran hour or two of sex he held me very close and stroked my face in a too-tender embrace and talked to me for a good hour or so before I drifted off to sleep. He woke me up a couple of hours later just as the sun was coming up and 'prodded' me into more fantastic lazy morning sex. He was supercute and oh so shy, baby blue eyes and blonde handlebar mustache hiding a cheesy grin. I took him back to his house the next morning, we exchanged phone numbers, and I went home to nap off what I felt was a successful evening.
Lazy morning sex is THE BEST. It will fix me for a whole day.
Where do I even begin to tell the tale of Lacey and Jem? They've been BFF since they met and have, ah, had Relations with each other tons. Yes both of their husbands know and still allow them to hang out together. Insane I know. Everything Lacey's done, Jem did about six months afterward - leaving her husband, having a worthless baby daddy, leaving that baby daddy and getting back with the husband - actually Jem is on a different schedule than Lacey and had a wayy different time whilst in the middle of her shit, but they are both on the same page again, with 3 kids apiece, one from some strangedick after leaving their hubby and going buckwild and stupid, and now back with hubby trying to make a go of it. Jem is an alright girl - very much her own person. Jem doesn't give a raging blue fuck what others think of her, she's loud and boisterous and ridiculous. Lacey loves her. And Jem is in love with Lacey. Jem was always infatuated with Lace - I think the physical relationship just cemented it. Jem gets superpissed at me for hanging around Lacey too much, very jealous and posessive is she. There's always been tension between she and I because Jem thinks I"m trying to take Lacey away from her, I guess. I've done everything to make Jem chill out, to no avail - even asked her straight up what the fuck was with her attitude and we hashed it all out one night and still whenever the both of us are around Lacey, Jem has to be the one sitting closest or the one talking the most or something - she's a very dominant person and I've only ever seen her defer to her mom and Lacey.
The week in question, I had the kids for the first part of it and sent them away for the weekend, and they ended up staying away the whole of the next week too. On friday the exDick got his kid and took it to his Dad's house not too far where i live, with Tatum on his heels of course. I behaved myself all that week until I saw Tatum with Dick - then I decided to go out and find some solace in someone else's arms. I hit my local nightclub, a little worried since I was out by myself with no girlfriends riding shotgun. I hit up the bar first thing and perched myself on a stool while I sipped on a drink. The dancefloor was pretty empty, and it had been an age since i'd visited the place. Nervous was I in my cute tshirt and tight jeans. It didn't take long before an older guy struck up a conversation with me and asked me to dance. Now, I suck at twostepping, but here in the south there isn't any help for it but to try harder. So I did. I'm pretty sure I ended up leading the poor guy - who towered over me in both height and brawn - and we sat back down after one song. He kept downplaying himself, saying "I can't imagine why a cute young thing like you would even be talking to an old fart like me . . ." He reminded me of my late husband, who was ten yrs my senior. then he pointed out a tall skinny guy in a cowboy hat down the bar a ways and motioned him over. The cowboy came over and sat down, tipped his hat (which was too cute) and introduced himself as Lance. Before I knew what had happened really, Lance had bought me a drink and the first guy was at the other end of the bar looking for all the world like he was pouting. Lance was shy as could be, it took some real prodding to get him to ask me to dance, and after a few drinks i asked him if he liked to smoke pot. His eyes sort of lit up and he says "Why? do you have some?" I said I knew where we could get high and he asked me if I could give him a ride there and back. Of course I knew what he was asking. He told his other buddy who'd stopped by to flirt with me a couple times that he would be home 'later', to not wait for him at the club, and together we sped off.
What shocked me about Lance was his tenderness with me. He kissed and caressed me so gently and carefully - it was almost like lovemaking and threw me for a loop. I'm no spring chicken, I know the difference bewtween fucking, sex and lovemaking, and this was certainly bordering on the lovin' part. Being tall and skinny, his dick followed suit. And stamina! oh my, there's something to be said for young bucks with stamina. I do so love being exhausted from coming so much. And yes, I told him about my tricks right before he commenced to touching me, and then he touched me and saw for himself, and said "That's awesome!" with a giant ass grin on his face. Afteran hour or two of sex he held me very close and stroked my face in a too-tender embrace and talked to me for a good hour or so before I drifted off to sleep. He woke me up a couple of hours later just as the sun was coming up and 'prodded' me into more fantastic lazy morning sex. He was supercute and oh so shy, baby blue eyes and blonde handlebar mustache hiding a cheesy grin. I took him back to his house the next morning, we exchanged phone numbers, and I went home to nap off what I felt was a successful evening.
Lazy morning sex is THE BEST. It will fix me for a whole day.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
3. Two sides of the next night
Continuing my first blog . . . the next day I found myself hangin out at Merrill's house again. I believe I went to the store with Lacey and we had a talk about how good Marshall was (Lacey had dated him for a night too, back when she first moved to town some eight years ago.) and how not very good Merrill was, and how that things were moving so fast with her and Merrill that she was holding out on sex until she was sure that Merrill was what she really wanted to do. See, Lacey and Merrill have a spotty past involving a six month marriage and a nasty divorce orchestrated mainly by Merrill's mom and sister, who were sweet as pie before turning into Evil Bitches when Merrill asked for a divorce. Granted, Lacey kind of brought it on herself by going a little nuts right after they got married - she joined a pool league and stayed out almost every night at the pool hall flirting with guys and girls and avoiding anything and everything to do with Merrill and her kids. Merrill is a sociable fella and was always having his buddies over and I think more than anything Lacey was trying to escape fighting with him over his friends' visits which lasted days on end. Lacey still hates conflict and will do just about anything to avoid fighting, including biting her tongue at something that pisses her off completely. Let's just say they were both young and had no idea how to work through problems, communicate or even make themselves happy, let alone each other. When they divorced, Lacey began seeing a guy whose only redeeming quality was that he was good looking. He got shot within six months over a bad dope deal that he wasn't even involved in - he just stepped in between two of his friends who were arguing and managed to get himself shot through his hand and upper thigh. yeah, he survived - long enough to turn Lacey into his bitch and knock her up with his kid. Lacey didn't talk to any of her friends or family anymore, she worked full time and never had any money, Merrill's mom helped Merrill get full custody of their kids by using her Idiot's record as the main excuse to take them away, and though the Idiot was a good dad, Lacey found herself miserable and lonely by the time the baby was one. Now the baby has turned two and Lacey's back with Merrill (which Merrill's mom is Sure to Love) and in the midst of another custody battle which was initiated by the idiot.
But at this point in the story, Lacey was trying to decide when would be a good time to sleep with Merrill. "NOW would be a good time, Lace." I kept telling her. I saw no point in delaying the inevitable, except to make Merrill squirm a bit, but she said she didn't want to get physical with him so quick because she knew that sex was how Merrill expressed love, and Merrill's devotion to her was complete and total without sex, so she was afraid of how much further off the deep end he'd go after sex. Me, i've always adored men who adored me. I still don't understand why she wasn't fucking him from day one. Would've improved everyone's mood, i'd think . . .
At any rate, I found myself at Merrill's the next night and Merrill began joking with me early on about how every guy he'd called had called him back and he had to tell them they'd missed out on some pussy. Of course I just hid my face in my hands at this comment, because chances are that yep, I had been looking for dick and any dick would have done. Me. (lol)
Then Merrill gets a phone call from someone who states that they'd seen Tatum last night and she'd had hickeys all the fuck over her neck. Merrill tells me this because I'd told him my suspicions about Dick and Tatum and of course this makes me see red. At that point it was more a matter of "why didn't he have the balls to tell me" than a matter of just being jealous. I've never found myself jealous of Tatum, still now I don't. She just a punk teenage girl without a thought in her brain, really - and she reminds me of Dick's sisters, which has got to be weird for him. At any rate, I'm pissed off enough to tell Merrill to invite someone Else over, which he does - a friend of his named Matt, another guy I'd never met in all the time I'd known Merrill - and so there I found myslef again making small talk with a brand-new guy whom I was expected to fuck. Lacey and I had the DDR game out. What's that you ask? Dance Dance Revolution. We've been playing it since wayy back when, and since Lacey's the only other person I know who's ever played it, I'd been dying to play it alongside her. We had such fun bopping around that night in front of the guys, while I assume they watched our asses and tits. We even convinced Matt and Merrill to try it out, which was absofreakinlutely hilarious. It was like their feet were moving without directions from their brains To move. Just moving on their own. Wildly in all directions at once. Like riverdancers on speed. I believe Lacey and I fell over each other with tears in our eyes laughing at this. After a while of this, though, Lace and I took our game back and wore ourselves out dancing. We put in a movie and played spades on the floor with the guys for an hour or two, but when 3am rolled around, I began making hints about how I needed to go, they had to get up, etc. etc. , to see exactly what this guy planned to do with me. He hung out till the last minute, I gave him every available opportunity to corner me and ask straight out for sex, but he kept bullshitting so I bailed home.
This same night in question, some how Dick found out about my adventure with Marshall the night before. Supposedly Dick hadn't been the one who put those hickeys on Tatum's neck. Here is his account of what happened this same night.
He found out about me putting some dick in my vagina over his leaving me and decided he wanted to go out to the club and find some pussy to throw on his own dick about it. Tatum was asked to provide him with a ride. When she showed up, with hickeys all over her, Dick had a fit and yelled at her, going " You Know everyone's gonna think they're from me!" and they started out for the club. Dick tells her he'll give her gas money if he goes home with someone and needs a ride the next morning back home and to not wait for him. He says at this point she seemed annoyed but still hadn't voiced the opinion that Dick should be with her instead of random club pussy. they get in the club, Dick downs a drink and almost immediately gets grabbed By the CROTCH by some clubho who says in a slurred voice, "You're cute, wanna dance with me and my friends?" "Sure," Dick says and proceeds to bump and grind for a few minutes with Tatum probably watching as redhot mad as could be. I doubt that girls who Already have hickeys all over em get much play at the club. Dick swears that when he went back to the girl's table he had every intention of finding Tatum and telling her to go home, he had been asked to join the clubho for the evening - his mind had been made up by the last song, when she began sucking on his face and he rubbed her crotch and she came right there on the dance floor, with nicely soaked underwear. Either Dick got Real lucky or somehow in the seven years we were together he had learned how to touch a woman just right to make her cream. Dick swears the girl had wet pants. He says that's what made him gung ho to follow her home. When Tatum shows up at the table, she's mad as hell. Dick says he's leaving with the other girls and Tatum says, "No, you're not," and basically drags him out of the club, with Dick whining all the way about "why?? why?" until they get to her car and Tatum proceeds to suck his dick. Dick swears that the moment she put her mouth on him was the first inkling he'd ever gotten that she might want him. I assume they went to her place and had sex, though Dick's account of the evening stops there to spare my feelings. They've been boyfriend-and-girlfriend ever since that night. At first I was mad because I thought surely something had been going on behind my back between them, but the more I look at the facts the more I doubt it - Dick isn't known for giving hickeys, in fact he hates them and won't do it. And if they'd been an item, Dick wouldn't have bothered moving out to his Dad's house in the far country, he'd have just went to her place in the city immediately.
But at this point in the story, Lacey was trying to decide when would be a good time to sleep with Merrill. "NOW would be a good time, Lace." I kept telling her. I saw no point in delaying the inevitable, except to make Merrill squirm a bit, but she said she didn't want to get physical with him so quick because she knew that sex was how Merrill expressed love, and Merrill's devotion to her was complete and total without sex, so she was afraid of how much further off the deep end he'd go after sex. Me, i've always adored men who adored me. I still don't understand why she wasn't fucking him from day one. Would've improved everyone's mood, i'd think . . .
At any rate, I found myself at Merrill's the next night and Merrill began joking with me early on about how every guy he'd called had called him back and he had to tell them they'd missed out on some pussy. Of course I just hid my face in my hands at this comment, because chances are that yep, I had been looking for dick and any dick would have done. Me. (lol)
Then Merrill gets a phone call from someone who states that they'd seen Tatum last night and she'd had hickeys all the fuck over her neck. Merrill tells me this because I'd told him my suspicions about Dick and Tatum and of course this makes me see red. At that point it was more a matter of "why didn't he have the balls to tell me" than a matter of just being jealous. I've never found myself jealous of Tatum, still now I don't. She just a punk teenage girl without a thought in her brain, really - and she reminds me of Dick's sisters, which has got to be weird for him. At any rate, I'm pissed off enough to tell Merrill to invite someone Else over, which he does - a friend of his named Matt, another guy I'd never met in all the time I'd known Merrill - and so there I found myslef again making small talk with a brand-new guy whom I was expected to fuck. Lacey and I had the DDR game out. What's that you ask? Dance Dance Revolution. We've been playing it since wayy back when, and since Lacey's the only other person I know who's ever played it, I'd been dying to play it alongside her. We had such fun bopping around that night in front of the guys, while I assume they watched our asses and tits. We even convinced Matt and Merrill to try it out, which was absofreakinlutely hilarious. It was like their feet were moving without directions from their brains To move. Just moving on their own. Wildly in all directions at once. Like riverdancers on speed. I believe Lacey and I fell over each other with tears in our eyes laughing at this. After a while of this, though, Lace and I took our game back and wore ourselves out dancing. We put in a movie and played spades on the floor with the guys for an hour or two, but when 3am rolled around, I began making hints about how I needed to go, they had to get up, etc. etc. , to see exactly what this guy planned to do with me. He hung out till the last minute, I gave him every available opportunity to corner me and ask straight out for sex, but he kept bullshitting so I bailed home.
This same night in question, some how Dick found out about my adventure with Marshall the night before. Supposedly Dick hadn't been the one who put those hickeys on Tatum's neck. Here is his account of what happened this same night.
He found out about me putting some dick in my vagina over his leaving me and decided he wanted to go out to the club and find some pussy to throw on his own dick about it. Tatum was asked to provide him with a ride. When she showed up, with hickeys all over her, Dick had a fit and yelled at her, going " You Know everyone's gonna think they're from me!" and they started out for the club. Dick tells her he'll give her gas money if he goes home with someone and needs a ride the next morning back home and to not wait for him. He says at this point she seemed annoyed but still hadn't voiced the opinion that Dick should be with her instead of random club pussy. they get in the club, Dick downs a drink and almost immediately gets grabbed By the CROTCH by some clubho who says in a slurred voice, "You're cute, wanna dance with me and my friends?" "Sure," Dick says and proceeds to bump and grind for a few minutes with Tatum probably watching as redhot mad as could be. I doubt that girls who Already have hickeys all over em get much play at the club. Dick swears that when he went back to the girl's table he had every intention of finding Tatum and telling her to go home, he had been asked to join the clubho for the evening - his mind had been made up by the last song, when she began sucking on his face and he rubbed her crotch and she came right there on the dance floor, with nicely soaked underwear. Either Dick got Real lucky or somehow in the seven years we were together he had learned how to touch a woman just right to make her cream. Dick swears the girl had wet pants. He says that's what made him gung ho to follow her home. When Tatum shows up at the table, she's mad as hell. Dick says he's leaving with the other girls and Tatum says, "No, you're not," and basically drags him out of the club, with Dick whining all the way about "why?? why?" until they get to her car and Tatum proceeds to suck his dick. Dick swears that the moment she put her mouth on him was the first inkling he'd ever gotten that she might want him. I assume they went to her place and had sex, though Dick's account of the evening stops there to spare my feelings. They've been boyfriend-and-girlfriend ever since that night. At first I was mad because I thought surely something had been going on behind my back between them, but the more I look at the facts the more I doubt it - Dick isn't known for giving hickeys, in fact he hates them and won't do it. And if they'd been an item, Dick wouldn't have bothered moving out to his Dad's house in the far country, he'd have just went to her place in the city immediately.
Posting Times
For my followers: I will try desperately to post by 10:00 daily - if it's not AM then it should be PM, but don't get your panties in a bunch if i'm not completely punctual with this - I have to find SOME time to go out and commit these dirty deeds dirt cheap y'know. Check back often - and I believe there's a link at the bottom of this where you can subscribe to my posts and get them delivered to your inbox if you'd like. thanks for reading! - Andromeda, AKA lil whore
Monday, September 15, 2008
2. On sex, drugs and puppies
Perhaps I should start this time with a disclaimer. Yes these events are true. No I do not suggest my way is a healthy way in which to live one's life; quite the contrary actually. It's just sort of what's happened along this twisted path of mine. Many of the events sort of rumbled along and swept me up in their path, and yes many of them are of my own evil design. I'm having trouble remembering many details, so sometimes the dialogue will be embellished a bit, but the events are there in my life - I couldn't possibly dream this shit up.
On sex; what I meant about my having more dopamine in me than others seems to be the only logical explanation for a lot of why I enjoy things more than others it seems. I'm apparently part masochist, I recently discovered, from biting myself on my inner arm during some recent fantastic bouts of sex. I kind of proved my dopamine-level theory to myself this past weekend when I got my tongue pierced. After the tattooed girl put the bolt through my tongue I went to the mirror to look at it under the bright flourescent lights and my pupils were blown out so that I looked like an owl, and I hadn't taken anything all day nor had any sort of drinks before. Drugs and liquor cause your body to produce dopamine in response to the chemicals in them. It's why drugs are called Dope. And dope's what causes the feel-wonderful feelings and any other bodily reactions you get from drugs. So if my pupils were blown - and I have to admit, I felt a sharp sharp pain and then my head got hot and I didn't feel any more soreness or anything that night - then I must have been full of dope from somewhere, and more-than-normal levels at that to incur oversize pupils. And I'm merely guessing that an overdose of dope is what causes me to react the way I do to touch during sex, and how I react to really good foods. I make some truly near-orgasmic cookies, let me tell you - even my friends have said that I make killer cookies. I think my brain just pumps out way more dope than the average brain - which is why anytime I've tried hard drugs i've woke up with a killer hangoverheadache - overdosing without overdosing. Which is why I've only ever Tried hard drugs and never Did hard drugs. Too rough for me. Much too much. Lots of acquaintances have regaled me with tales of how wonderful Coke is, but I've never even had the desire after hearing a description of what it does, because personally I've got the same kind of feeling before from really great sex, and I'd rather have sex than cocaine. You don't usually get busted for great sex. Well, check that, I guess i've gotten knocked up three times so I sort of Did get busted for sex, huh? (maybe I Should try Cocaine.)I've paid my dues though, served my time - my kids are all school age now so my days have been given back to me for over a year now. Free at last, Free at last! Last year I sort of wandered around my house in a stupified torpor, not knowing what to do with all the time laid out before me. This year, Apparently, my time will be filled with plotting my own demise-by-dick.
On puppies; I've decided that women are all bitches; when we're "in heat" we're vicious to other females and ruthless in our hunt for a hot Dog to service us. And we do tend to bark at everyone a lot. Men are dogs, of course. And lately I've had a lot of puppies following me around. Puppies - younger men who wish only to hump my leg and who haven't been housetrained even. (meaning they are mediocre at sex but are certainly eager to be near me and possibly be having sex.) My exDick was/is definitely housetrained. Leashtrained, sociable, never bit anyone, happy-go-lucky even. I think I may have kicked him a few too many times, in retrospect. He was a dog, for sure - But housetrained - oh my yes, that man is certainly that. His new girl has even told him to thank me for teaching him all he knows. And it was a lot me, not to toot my own horn or nothin, but I was constantly upping the sex stakes with him by introducing new fun things to do in bed to try and keep our relationshit spicy. So he was always learning, just as I was always learning from reading and devouring romance novels for new fun positions and ideas on adventurous sex. In fact, come to think of it, his new girl better bring her top game cause he's gonna get bored out of his mind in a year's time. Lord knows if he suggests anything new and fun, she'll be all "Did you do that with Her?" Cause she's a bitch just like me. We're all alike.
On sex; what I meant about my having more dopamine in me than others seems to be the only logical explanation for a lot of why I enjoy things more than others it seems. I'm apparently part masochist, I recently discovered, from biting myself on my inner arm during some recent fantastic bouts of sex. I kind of proved my dopamine-level theory to myself this past weekend when I got my tongue pierced. After the tattooed girl put the bolt through my tongue I went to the mirror to look at it under the bright flourescent lights and my pupils were blown out so that I looked like an owl, and I hadn't taken anything all day nor had any sort of drinks before. Drugs and liquor cause your body to produce dopamine in response to the chemicals in them. It's why drugs are called Dope. And dope's what causes the feel-wonderful feelings and any other bodily reactions you get from drugs. So if my pupils were blown - and I have to admit, I felt a sharp sharp pain and then my head got hot and I didn't feel any more soreness or anything that night - then I must have been full of dope from somewhere, and more-than-normal levels at that to incur oversize pupils. And I'm merely guessing that an overdose of dope is what causes me to react the way I do to touch during sex, and how I react to really good foods. I make some truly near-orgasmic cookies, let me tell you - even my friends have said that I make killer cookies. I think my brain just pumps out way more dope than the average brain - which is why anytime I've tried hard drugs i've woke up with a killer hangoverheadache - overdosing without overdosing. Which is why I've only ever Tried hard drugs and never Did hard drugs. Too rough for me. Much too much. Lots of acquaintances have regaled me with tales of how wonderful Coke is, but I've never even had the desire after hearing a description of what it does, because personally I've got the same kind of feeling before from really great sex, and I'd rather have sex than cocaine. You don't usually get busted for great sex. Well, check that, I guess i've gotten knocked up three times so I sort of Did get busted for sex, huh? (maybe I Should try Cocaine.)I've paid my dues though, served my time - my kids are all school age now so my days have been given back to me for over a year now. Free at last, Free at last! Last year I sort of wandered around my house in a stupified torpor, not knowing what to do with all the time laid out before me. This year, Apparently, my time will be filled with plotting my own demise-by-dick.
On puppies; I've decided that women are all bitches; when we're "in heat" we're vicious to other females and ruthless in our hunt for a hot Dog to service us. And we do tend to bark at everyone a lot. Men are dogs, of course. And lately I've had a lot of puppies following me around. Puppies - younger men who wish only to hump my leg and who haven't been housetrained even. (meaning they are mediocre at sex but are certainly eager to be near me and possibly be having sex.) My exDick was/is definitely housetrained. Leashtrained, sociable, never bit anyone, happy-go-lucky even. I think I may have kicked him a few too many times, in retrospect. He was a dog, for sure - But housetrained - oh my yes, that man is certainly that. His new girl has even told him to thank me for teaching him all he knows. And it was a lot me, not to toot my own horn or nothin, but I was constantly upping the sex stakes with him by introducing new fun things to do in bed to try and keep our relationshit spicy. So he was always learning, just as I was always learning from reading and devouring romance novels for new fun positions and ideas on adventurous sex. In fact, come to think of it, his new girl better bring her top game cause he's gonna get bored out of his mind in a year's time. Lord knows if he suggests anything new and fun, she'll be all "Did you do that with Her?" Cause she's a bitch just like me. We're all alike.
What this blog's about, and my first adventure in singledom
This blog will be to confess all my deep, dark and twisty deeds. I can't possibly tell my girlfriends everything; they'll snitch me out to anyone possible. Here in the mire of the webiverse i can confess and tellall what nasty sins i commit on a weekendly basis. I am going to have to start at the beginning and work my way up through the past month and a half, so this blog will have many posts the next week or two as I let it play catch up. All names have been changed, usually to fun names I've found from baby name websites - so they are a bit ridiculous.
My name will be Andromeda. Andromeda Monahan.
Some quick background on me; I'm currently twenty nine years old, i've got three kids whose story won't figure into these confessions much, and i'm a widow. I was married and had kids at eighteen and lost my beloved hubby Dean when i was 21 and pregnant with my middle kid. I had my last kid with, and I was in a relationshit for SEVEN YEARS with, a big loser asshole who we'll just call DICK. We've been together for far too long, each of us trying to hurt the other one back from past hurts, going back and forth forever it seems trying to one-up each other with words and deeds. (though i never cheated on him and i don't believe he did on me.) He lived in my house and i supported him on my own income all that time when all of a sudden he wakes up the last Wednesday in July and says "We're over." and moves out. Bewildered and flabbergasted, i cry for two days the sort of soulwrenching sobs that only come from self loathing from having failed at making our relationshit work, and relief that something so horrible was finally finished. By the time Friday rolled around i was fed up with the sadness and eager to wake up from the torpor that being "married" can put a person in. I decided to hang out at my friend Merrill's house. Merrill's exwife, Lacey, was there as they were on a newly talking but not fucking basis. Lacey and I have been friends for years, but her excursion with her last baby daddy left me out in the cold. (more on THAT drama some other time.) I was excited about spending time with Lacey since she was sort-of-single, and i've been harboring a Bi crush on her for quite some time. We'd fooled around in the past, but never done anything really worth writing about because of my sense of faithfulness to my ex dickhead. While i was hanging out, Merrill was talking me up and telling me to forget my exDick. I said, 'Do you know any single guys who wanna get laid?" sort of as a conversational topic, figuring i'd met everyone Merrill knew in the seven years i've known him. (he was/is a friend of Dick's.) Merrill makes eight phone calls, all to guys i suppose, none of whom answer as it's oneAM on a Friday. The first guy to return the call at onethirty was Marshall. Whom i've never even heard of! Merrill answers the phone: "Heeyyyy whassup man! is your dick lonely tonight? I've got a girl here who's lookin for some one-night friendship!" I look at Merrill like he's lost his fuckin mind and screech at him until his friend shows up. Marshall is one fine piece of ass. I mean, muscular, thin, cut, green eyes and dark hair, a killer smile and an awesome graphic shirt, distressed jeans and clean black Vans on. SOOO my type of guy that i'd follow around if i saw in public. (Just for the record, i'm 5'2, approx. 125 lbs, well proportioned, black hair brown eyes and pretty cute when i want to be. ) this boy was FINE. I think my jaw might have dropped when i saw this fool. I 'm pretty sure i blinked a bunch. I mean, it was seven years since i'd even considered having sex with someone other than my slightly overweight slightly goofy looking Dick. Marshall was indeed Fine. I was getting wet just thinking about it. I was however pretty sure he wasn't going to want to really do anything with me. I mean, i'm just Me and surely this boy can get laid by every cute lil blonde thing out there, right? I know I have my redeeming qualities, but you have to give me a chance to show those off and I thought I wasn't in this boy's league looks-wise and he was for sure leaving any minute. (i've always had issues with self esteem until like, this last week or two, I was an ugly duckling who was teased mercilessly about being pudgy and lacking $ for better wardrobe and makeup advice. So i've little deep self confidence.)
I can't recall if I tried smoking weed for the first time that night or what. The Dick is/was a major pot smoker and I never did it while we were together, thinking that one of us should be the responsible adult. After he up and left, I asked myself why i'd been sacrificing myself all those years for someone who was obviously never going to grow up. I had always been too busy raising young babies to bother with having my own teenage silliness. And before i got knocked up I was really a miss goody goody and never went near anyone who even hinted at drugs sex or even rocknroll. So I'd talked myself into trying to smoke weed on the regular, cause i knew that'd piss ole Dick off to the Nth degree.
However, I remember most of this night I'm writing about, so I'm guessing I wasn't stoned at any rate. I'd always told Dick if I thought we were really over i'd sleep with someone else, so I was game to have sex with Marshall just to get some closure with Dick. ( I know, i know, if you want closure in your relationship, start with your legs)
The night was drawing to a close around 3am and Merrill was taking Lacey to bed when Marshall corners him off to the side and says, "Do you have a room with a bed we could, ah, use?" After an evening of making polite small talk, I overheard this and immediately perked up. Sure enough, one of the kids rooms was empty and Merrill invited him to use it. Marshall walked back over grinning and led me by the small of my back to the room and proceeded to throw some dick on my problems. It was excellent. He had a nice thick one and sure knew how to use it. It was mighty dark, with just a hint of moonlight coming through the window to illuminate his fine bare chest and arms ripped with muscles and drawn over with tattoos. His lips were soft and he wasn't insistent or impatient - just a good all around lover. I came about eight times I believe, which isn't bad considering I was nervous and self conscious as all hell since I hadn't had time before hand to warn him . . . .
Oh snap! I haven't even told YOU! Well ladies, prepare to hate me and/or want to be me.
I'm a multiorgasmic squirter. I come about a hundred times every time I have sex with a guy i'm comfortable with and who knows me, yep, easily a hundred. (the most i've ever counted was 147. ) And what's more, I soak bedsheets with my come the first twenty times or so. After twenty the orgasms turn into lazy body-shuddering ones that don't produce much come unless a guy changes it up a lot but still feel wonderful. And i'm a freak in the bed otherwise - I love giving and recieving oral and I even like anal on occasion. I'm also really super easy to get off - I can come just from kissing and no other body touching whatsoever, if the kiss is hot enough. In like ten seconds. In fact all my life I've never had a makeout session that didn't end in sex, because first kisses/sessions like that usually result in my coming in my pants and feeling bad that I orgasmed and they haven't. So I fuck em. And I come a hundred more times during sex and it's still not fair, but hey at least the other party gets to run the race, right? (it's not my fault I run laps around em eighty times or so before the race is over, y'know) I honestly think my sexuality results from my body producing more-than-normal amounts of dopamine. Seriously. More on my hypothesis later - the point of my telling you this is, I hadn't warned Marshall about the fact i'd be coming every minute or so and leaving a pool of cum on the sheets i'd have to wash up later. This made me nervous; some guys have gotten the worng idean and thought i'd wet the bed or something. When I'm nervous I can actually keep myself from coming. It's pure torture actually but I can. In fact I have almost total control over my orgasms - I can come on demand too if the guy is being dominant and telling me when to. Anyways, I was stopping myself from coming so much with Marshall so hopefully we wouldn't be swimming by the end. When he came, he shouted "oh damn" and of course I came too because there's nothing hotter to me than hearing a man come inside me (yes yes condom usage everywhere i'm no stupid whore, just a Ho. ) I tried to explain my ways afterward since he mentioned "Damn girl, you're wet" but it's not nice to really tell a man afterwards 'That's just how i am, it has nothing to do with your prowess buddy - in fact this here ain't nothin, you should see what i can really do.' Before hand to warn a guy I usually just say, "I'm a multi orgasmic Squirter and we need a towel. Seriously. " Which of course intrigues men to no end. They simply Must play with me like a toy then, which is nice in its own way, and usually when I come the first time really good for a guy I hear "That's awesome!" more often than not, or, "No way!"
At any rate, I semi-explained myself to the guy, he asked me why in the world my ex would leave me and I said I had no clue except he'd been spending a lot of time with this female named Tatum who used to come over and smoke pot with him so I thought maybe they'd been fucking. Marshall asked me if I thought Tatum was prettier than me. "No, " i said, as he got dressed and got ready to leave, "She's eighteen and has big tits and is kind of thick. She's an airhead and Dick hates airheaded girls." It was kind of at that moment i realized that maybe Dick was just wanting a break. However, nothing could be done about it by then. I'd screwed the proverbial pooch.
He certainly was an excellent pup.
And that's my first excursion back into the world of men. I'll pick up next time with the happenings of the next day. . .
My name will be Andromeda. Andromeda Monahan.
Some quick background on me; I'm currently twenty nine years old, i've got three kids whose story won't figure into these confessions much, and i'm a widow. I was married and had kids at eighteen and lost my beloved hubby Dean when i was 21 and pregnant with my middle kid. I had my last kid with, and I was in a relationshit for SEVEN YEARS with, a big loser asshole who we'll just call DICK. We've been together for far too long, each of us trying to hurt the other one back from past hurts, going back and forth forever it seems trying to one-up each other with words and deeds. (though i never cheated on him and i don't believe he did on me.) He lived in my house and i supported him on my own income all that time when all of a sudden he wakes up the last Wednesday in July and says "We're over." and moves out. Bewildered and flabbergasted, i cry for two days the sort of soulwrenching sobs that only come from self loathing from having failed at making our relationshit work, and relief that something so horrible was finally finished. By the time Friday rolled around i was fed up with the sadness and eager to wake up from the torpor that being "married" can put a person in. I decided to hang out at my friend Merrill's house. Merrill's exwife, Lacey, was there as they were on a newly talking but not fucking basis. Lacey and I have been friends for years, but her excursion with her last baby daddy left me out in the cold. (more on THAT drama some other time.) I was excited about spending time with Lacey since she was sort-of-single, and i've been harboring a Bi crush on her for quite some time. We'd fooled around in the past, but never done anything really worth writing about because of my sense of faithfulness to my ex dickhead. While i was hanging out, Merrill was talking me up and telling me to forget my exDick. I said, 'Do you know any single guys who wanna get laid?" sort of as a conversational topic, figuring i'd met everyone Merrill knew in the seven years i've known him. (he was/is a friend of Dick's.) Merrill makes eight phone calls, all to guys i suppose, none of whom answer as it's oneAM on a Friday. The first guy to return the call at onethirty was Marshall. Whom i've never even heard of! Merrill answers the phone: "Heeyyyy whassup man! is your dick lonely tonight? I've got a girl here who's lookin for some one-night friendship!" I look at Merrill like he's lost his fuckin mind and screech at him until his friend shows up. Marshall is one fine piece of ass. I mean, muscular, thin, cut, green eyes and dark hair, a killer smile and an awesome graphic shirt, distressed jeans and clean black Vans on. SOOO my type of guy that i'd follow around if i saw in public. (Just for the record, i'm 5'2, approx. 125 lbs, well proportioned, black hair brown eyes and pretty cute when i want to be. ) this boy was FINE. I think my jaw might have dropped when i saw this fool. I 'm pretty sure i blinked a bunch. I mean, it was seven years since i'd even considered having sex with someone other than my slightly overweight slightly goofy looking Dick. Marshall was indeed Fine. I was getting wet just thinking about it. I was however pretty sure he wasn't going to want to really do anything with me. I mean, i'm just Me and surely this boy can get laid by every cute lil blonde thing out there, right? I know I have my redeeming qualities, but you have to give me a chance to show those off and I thought I wasn't in this boy's league looks-wise and he was for sure leaving any minute. (i've always had issues with self esteem until like, this last week or two, I was an ugly duckling who was teased mercilessly about being pudgy and lacking $ for better wardrobe and makeup advice. So i've little deep self confidence.)
I can't recall if I tried smoking weed for the first time that night or what. The Dick is/was a major pot smoker and I never did it while we were together, thinking that one of us should be the responsible adult. After he up and left, I asked myself why i'd been sacrificing myself all those years for someone who was obviously never going to grow up. I had always been too busy raising young babies to bother with having my own teenage silliness. And before i got knocked up I was really a miss goody goody and never went near anyone who even hinted at drugs sex or even rocknroll. So I'd talked myself into trying to smoke weed on the regular, cause i knew that'd piss ole Dick off to the Nth degree.
However, I remember most of this night I'm writing about, so I'm guessing I wasn't stoned at any rate. I'd always told Dick if I thought we were really over i'd sleep with someone else, so I was game to have sex with Marshall just to get some closure with Dick. ( I know, i know, if you want closure in your relationship, start with your legs)
The night was drawing to a close around 3am and Merrill was taking Lacey to bed when Marshall corners him off to the side and says, "Do you have a room with a bed we could, ah, use?" After an evening of making polite small talk, I overheard this and immediately perked up. Sure enough, one of the kids rooms was empty and Merrill invited him to use it. Marshall walked back over grinning and led me by the small of my back to the room and proceeded to throw some dick on my problems. It was excellent. He had a nice thick one and sure knew how to use it. It was mighty dark, with just a hint of moonlight coming through the window to illuminate his fine bare chest and arms ripped with muscles and drawn over with tattoos. His lips were soft and he wasn't insistent or impatient - just a good all around lover. I came about eight times I believe, which isn't bad considering I was nervous and self conscious as all hell since I hadn't had time before hand to warn him . . . .
Oh snap! I haven't even told YOU! Well ladies, prepare to hate me and/or want to be me.
I'm a multiorgasmic squirter. I come about a hundred times every time I have sex with a guy i'm comfortable with and who knows me, yep, easily a hundred. (the most i've ever counted was 147. ) And what's more, I soak bedsheets with my come the first twenty times or so. After twenty the orgasms turn into lazy body-shuddering ones that don't produce much come unless a guy changes it up a lot but still feel wonderful. And i'm a freak in the bed otherwise - I love giving and recieving oral and I even like anal on occasion. I'm also really super easy to get off - I can come just from kissing and no other body touching whatsoever, if the kiss is hot enough. In like ten seconds. In fact all my life I've never had a makeout session that didn't end in sex, because first kisses/sessions like that usually result in my coming in my pants and feeling bad that I orgasmed and they haven't. So I fuck em. And I come a hundred more times during sex and it's still not fair, but hey at least the other party gets to run the race, right? (it's not my fault I run laps around em eighty times or so before the race is over, y'know) I honestly think my sexuality results from my body producing more-than-normal amounts of dopamine. Seriously. More on my hypothesis later - the point of my telling you this is, I hadn't warned Marshall about the fact i'd be coming every minute or so and leaving a pool of cum on the sheets i'd have to wash up later. This made me nervous; some guys have gotten the worng idean and thought i'd wet the bed or something. When I'm nervous I can actually keep myself from coming. It's pure torture actually but I can. In fact I have almost total control over my orgasms - I can come on demand too if the guy is being dominant and telling me when to. Anyways, I was stopping myself from coming so much with Marshall so hopefully we wouldn't be swimming by the end. When he came, he shouted "oh damn" and of course I came too because there's nothing hotter to me than hearing a man come inside me (yes yes condom usage everywhere i'm no stupid whore, just a Ho. ) I tried to explain my ways afterward since he mentioned "Damn girl, you're wet" but it's not nice to really tell a man afterwards 'That's just how i am, it has nothing to do with your prowess buddy - in fact this here ain't nothin, you should see what i can really do.' Before hand to warn a guy I usually just say, "I'm a multi orgasmic Squirter and we need a towel. Seriously. " Which of course intrigues men to no end. They simply Must play with me like a toy then, which is nice in its own way, and usually when I come the first time really good for a guy I hear "That's awesome!" more often than not, or, "No way!"
At any rate, I semi-explained myself to the guy, he asked me why in the world my ex would leave me and I said I had no clue except he'd been spending a lot of time with this female named Tatum who used to come over and smoke pot with him so I thought maybe they'd been fucking. Marshall asked me if I thought Tatum was prettier than me. "No, " i said, as he got dressed and got ready to leave, "She's eighteen and has big tits and is kind of thick. She's an airhead and Dick hates airheaded girls." It was kind of at that moment i realized that maybe Dick was just wanting a break. However, nothing could be done about it by then. I'd screwed the proverbial pooch.
He certainly was an excellent pup.
And that's my first excursion back into the world of men. I'll pick up next time with the happenings of the next day. . .
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