Saturday, November 29, 2008
I Am Going To Teach You A Lesson
I am listening to Fugazi and trying to decide what underwear I should wear. Do I stay sexy and go black and sheer or do I wear something normal and cute. Do I want him to know that I am planning to have sex with him. I think I am thinking too much.
I decide on normal underwear and a fancy push up bra. The bra is uncomfortable I can't wait too take it off. I arrive at his house. He is beautiful. I remind myself not to tell him he is beautiful.
I pull out a wine bottle opener and I start drinking directly from the bottle. He is trying to impress me. He is babbling on about music and politics. I want to fuck. He gets up and sits closer to me. He kisses me. Soft. he kisses me. Hard. Clothes off heels stay on. I want it badly. He notices. He teases me with his massive dick. He kisses me like he wishes he loved me. I kiss him back the same. I am sitting on his lap and his nails are digging at my back. He makes me beg for it. I would bark like a fucking dog for this guy and drink water out of a bowl if he asked me to. He fucks me from behind on the sofa. I can feel every inch of him inside of me. My body opens up to him like a flower to sunlight. We have amazing chemistry I can feel energy in him when we touch.
He makes me beg to get on top. He kisses my neck and says "I know you are holding back tell me what you want". I tell him I want him to put his hand on my neck and pull my hair. I tell him I want him to fuck me like its the last time he will ever cum. I tell him to tell me how much he wants me and how Good I feel. I make him switch positions with me. He gets on all fours and I slap his ass with one hand while I jerk him off with the other. I use my own cum as his lubricant. He tries to hold back his moans. I kiss his back and bite his shoulders. He rolls his head and looks back at me. He looks so strong and confident. I lick his asshole and finger him until he cums. He tells me he's never done this before. I tell him we can try anything that he likes we can both be student and teacher. We get dressed and drink a few pbrs and then I go home. It was a good night. He is interesting. Very young and at times immature but he has a sweetness in him that is very pure. My Infatuation for him has turned to admiration.
We have become a new type of friend. He writes me daily. He wants me to find him a girlfriend he thinks that will make life better. I am going to teach him about women. I am going to help him find himself. I am excited about my new journey.
You Feel So Fucking good
I've had sex with three people this week. My body needs touch stimulation. It needs to be felt and rubbed. My thighs need to be grabbed. My nipples need to be pinched. My ass needs to be slapped. My lips need to be slightly bruised from kissing. I need someone to stare in my eyes while I cum. I need to be freed. My body is unmapped territory explore every inch of me. Now. I demand it.
The night started out just like every good Friday night starts out. Ladies gathered in a living room talking about past loves, crushes and fucks. We exchange business advice and sex advice. I lit a joint while I said "Friendship is for girls" Men are for fucking. And I think I might have meant it. We jumped in the car and rode to a local bar while we bumped swagger like us by M.I.A
I hate Thanksgiving weekend all the eligible men go back to their parents house and there is no dick for miles. It's been three days since my last orgasm and I feel my sanity and my standards are slipping. We arrive at the bar and we are greeted by several of our friends. I told the girls since I had sex the most recently I would take third pick of the men. From the look of the crowd it looked like we would all be sleeping with our vibrators by the end of the night. The ladies broke up to prowl for dick. I gave up about 5 minutes in the game and started chatting up an old friend of mine that I thought was gay for the first 4 years I knew him.
One drink became Two and I found myself glued to conversation with him. Am I hitting on him? Is he hitting on me? Is he gay? Do I care? Is his dick big? Can I fuck a friend? I trick him into bringing up the topic of sex. Next thing he is telling me very calmly that he believes me to be amazing in bed. I give him my number and I ask him where he is staying. He says "with you". I respond "good answer"
I quickly clean my room and shove old magnum wrappers and flip my cum stained sheets inside out. He lays on my bed and expects me to make the first move. I don't. He rubs his nose close to mine and he inhales when I exhale. He tells me I look so good. I asked to see his tattoos. Hes naked is seconds. I'm naked moments later. His dick was beautiful. It was thick, clean and pretty. The head was so sweet and soft I wanted him to cum in my mouth over and over and over again.
He pinched my nipples with one hand and rubbed my clit with the other. I was dripping wet. He kept telling me " You feel so good". I was soaked. We kissed for 10 minutes then I asked him to fuck me. He climbed on top of me and my vagina tried to suck the soul out of his body. Our bodies were communicating in some type of secret language that told him how and where to touch me. I wrapped my thighs around him like a sex octopus. He fingered my clit and I came uncontrollably. After cuming there times we fell asleep for 4 hours listening to Pandora. We woke up, he kissed me and then he left. JOB WELL FUCKING DONE. Seriously. In and fucking out. Of course I wanted to have sex at least two more times before he left. Me on top and then him from behind but hey I can't blame a boy for not being able to keep up with a girl in Richmond.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
A History Of Violence
I am sitting in a kitchen full of women making Thanksgiving Dinner. My current beau is out of town for the next week. Can I make it until next week when he gets back or will my vagina wander. I successfully managed to get through last night without calling up past sexual partners that I have tried to forget. As I scrolled my phone list hoping for some sort of random forgotten memory it made me remember all my past mistakes. These are the men I've dated. These are the men I've hated. And these are the men I can't resist.
The Millionaire: He had a great car, a great flat, a great job. We ate in the finest restaurants and blew money flying all over the country because we had nothing better to do. It started out great. Jay-Z was always bumping in the back and we were a power couple. I finally found a man who I could relate with. He was driven, We loved sex with no strings attached, We loved spending money and being admired by everyone around us. It was so fast past. Things were great and then they were not great. He felt the need to run my life from some type of omniscient view. And I felt the need to cheat on him maliciously. No communication, Confusion, Growing up to fast. Then anger. I fucked this one over pretty good I still try to apologize but he hates me.
faults: controlling, indecisive, demanding
The One I Should Have Married: Had to fight not falling in love with him the first second our lips touched. I was new in the city. I was new out of a horrible fucked up relationship. We fit like hand and glove. He made me breakfast every morning and every night I would give him my mind and body. We had a house. We had a dog. We had a family. He rubbed my feet between my full time school and full time job. I had ambitions. I wanted Romance.
faults: laziness, not outgoing, little house on the prairie syndrome, anger issues, complanatron
The One That Isn't Mine: I've known him for years. I ran into him one night and felt an odd attraction to him. We exchanged numbers and I was yelling his name and hour later. I had to train him to be my fuck buddy he had fears he was taking advantage of me sexually and that took months to change. We have so much fun together and the sex is mind blowing. He knows the curves of my body and the way to touch me. We get amazingly high and we dream together. I could never be his and he could never be mine. We dance together for a while then we wait for our song to play again. I will continue sleeping with him for as long as I live. He is my friend.
Faults: laziness, still in love with ex-girlfriend, complanatron, needs home training
The Cuddle Bug: This guy was my best friend. He was the only one who could really understand my crazy teenage manic mind. We would go for long car rides and he would make me mixtapes. He would send me letters and hug me for hours. He was a tall redhead who was odd looking but I found him irresistible. For years I tried to find a way to tell him how I felt. He hated all my boyfriends and I couldn't stand his girlfriends. Our views on religion, relationships and politics were the same. We were the sane ones and everyone else was plain mad. I was infatuated with this redhead for years. One Christmas when we were both back in our hometown we decided to go to D.C to look at museums and then get dinner together. We met at the train station. He held my hand. Things had changed. I was older and he was still the guy I had been in love with and who really understood me. I went home with him that night like I use to when we were younger. We got in his bed and watched Willow while he held me from behind. I was the little spoon and he was the big spoon but somethings was different. We were different. He was nervous and I was horny as well as petrified to breathe. I buried my head in his chest and we laid there in silence. I could feel his Dick was hard and his palms were sweaty. I just wanted him to kiss me. I needed him to kiss me. He licked his lips and my heart froze for a second. He then said "You are everything I thought you would be, I am so proud". He told me that he wanted to spend new years eve with me and he wanted me to be the first person he kissed. He said he was tired and didn't want to ruin anything for us because he wanted it to be perfect. The next morning we woke up and he made me breakfast. He hugged me for an hour and kissed me on the forehead. The next day I called him and his father told me he flew back to college early. I went home and I checked my email it said. "I'm sorry I can't be with you and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I was so hurt. After many years we are still friends but I still do not have the courage to let him know how I felt and how I was hurt.
Faults: blatantly honest about everything, House on the prairie complex, Martyr Complex
The One Who Took My Virginity: 7th Grade 7th block Introduction to Physics Middle row, Dark skin. We talked about our hatred of forced education and our love for Tomb Raider. I made fake notes allowing me to ride the bus home with him everyday. We would play video games for 2 hours then make out on his bed for two hours. One day I was wearing jncos and a Rage Against the Machine shirt. He put his hands in my pants and pulled out sticky fingers my brain melted and the world got fuzzy. The next day I went to Borders and read every thing I could find about sex. I took notes and made diagrams. The next day he took my virginity. I told him I had lost it before for some reason I didn't want him having any kind of ownership over my body. We dated for months, his parents were diplomats and we rode to school in limousine's and his maid would cook us romantic dinners. Everyone was jealous. We would talk for hours on the phone about nothing. I loved the nothingness. He loved me he would have forsaken his whole family to prove his love. The Seasons changed and so did I. I left him and he sadly fell apart. There was suicide attempts. He almost flunked out of school and it broke his mothers heart. I will always regret breaking his mothers heart.
Faults: Stubbornness
Coke Bottle Glasses and striped sweaters: The first boy I ever saw who looked like he could be in one of my favorite bands. He was such a loser and so fucking cute. Stupid Glasses with tape on them. Thrift store pink t-shirt, dyed shaggy black hair,ripped Levi jeans and mismatched chucks. I was in High school and he was interesting to say the least. I hated him for quite some time. One of my friends really liked him so I was forced to hang out with them often. He wasn't very intelligent nor was he witty he was barely worth knowing. He usually had nothing interesting to say and whenever people would start noticing it he would do something stupid like set himself on fire or hit himself in the head. For some reason my friend was so infatuated with him even though she had a semi acceptable boyfriend. Tuesday night was our mandatory movie night for the three of us ( by three I mean the two of them hanging out and me in the background reading a book being used as an alibi) Well one night my friend doesn't show up and I'm stuck with the asshole. We try to watch a movie and just end up yelling at each other and then I tell him all the reason I dislike him. He then in return spits in my face. I slap him and spit back in his face. He pins me on the ground and holds my mouth open and continues to spit all over my face. I flip him over on the floor of my bedroom, I hold his hands behind his head with one hand and my other hand I spit in it and rub it all over his face. His dick gets hard and I fuck him on the floor. His lips are so soft. His lips are so red. He tells me he feels bad about what we did. Then he fucks me again. He then tells me he is in love with my friend. Then he tells me he wants me again. This goes on for months. He was my first fuck buddy. I learned a lot from our situation. This relationship ended with a good amount of moonshine and a belt repeatedly hitting him in the chest.
Faults: immature, no responsibility,
The Guy Who Made My Heart Stop: It was love at first sight.I was in a constant state of overwhelming joy. I love you dripped out of my mouth like droll. We moved in with each other after two weeks. He made my mind and my body release all fear and doubt. This was love. This was what life was all about this was worth dying for. I wanted to be his wife. I wanted to have his children. I wanted to take care of him. He was my savior my companion he was the person who was made for me. Every morning I woke up I thanked God for the gift of one more day with him. He loved everything about me. My anger, my innocence, my pride, my body. He made me feel beautiful and smart. In the mornings he would cut melons while I poured orange juice in our matching mugs. I would stand on the tip of my toes and he would kiss me on the forehead. He said Forever and a day and I gave him my soul. He is the best actor I've ever met. He cut me so deeply that I will never heal from what we were. And what he is. He ruined me. He destroyed anything good inside of me. It took me years to become a new person. I will always compare every man to him. I will always have trouble rewriting my memories of him. He lives under my skin. He is in my blood. He is embedded in my mind. I hate him and I love him.
Faults: Liar, Selfish, God-like complex, convicted child molester, convicted rapist, schizophrenic,
this is far to heavy to finish tonight. I will add more later.
Monday, November 24, 2008
going on month 11
So, i've been single for over a year now. It hasn't been all bad, but i am a person who has done the one night stands, the fuck buddies and after every encounter i just want to scrub myself with bleach. I start to freak out about STDs and get myself tested over and over again for nothing more than a skin irritation. So, obviously, since i dont like the stranger sex, i have been without for a long time.
during my year off of serious dating, i did hang out with someone for about a month. I knew he had a reputation, so i didn't jump in the sack with him. I figured if he really liked me then i had the power to make him wait. The makeouts were so much hotter that way. Slamming me up again porches, sneaking away and throwing me on top of washing machines. making excuses to dip into dark corners. but all the hot sucking face couldn't make up for the fact that when i did let him fuck me, he couldn't. I was ok with it the first time, super bummed the second, and totally over it the third. And when i say he couldn't fuck me, i dont mean that he was bad at it, i mean he could not fuck me. his shit didn't work. I guess the long ass wait put pressure on him (or so he says, and b/c i am still friends with this person, i'll believe that excuse superficially). so i cut and run on that one.
after that, which was in feb/march, there has been no one. I can't even tell you the last time i kissed someone. I think in may?! it's kinda pathetic. I went from being single and drunk, to single and so horny, to single and sad and now single and completely apathetic to it all.
I'm over it, i dont want to make the effort, i dont want to hear your pick up lines, excuses, attempts to hang out with me.
you all might wonder why i have been single and without some good deep dicking..
let me explain the men that have come around.
1. 22 and completely immature. when we did make out MONTHS ago, and it was just kissing and rubbing, he didn't talk to me for a month. wow. you are ashamed of ME?!
2. old friend. told him i wouldn't fuck him cause it would ruin things and it makes it hotter by keeping the fantasy alive. he got mad and left me in the bathroom at a party.
3. dude who tried to fuck my best friend and then went after me. when i said no, he went for my other best friend.
4. gay. when i mean gay i mean he said "you have split ends" to me! go fuck yourself.
5. men with short fuses. you know, the ones that get jealous even though you aren't dating. the ones aways trying to fight for you even though you hate fighting and can protect yourself. they are making up for some dick complex.
6. my employees. that all fun and all. But i dont want to look at them all day every day afterwards. esp if im not into them.
so. you tell me where the good men are. Bank account, job, friends, no rage problems, no penis problems and all that other usual shit women want in a man.
until then, i'll have my cuddle buddy to sleeps next to me but we never do anything but snuggle.
during my year off of serious dating, i did hang out with someone for about a month. I knew he had a reputation, so i didn't jump in the sack with him. I figured if he really liked me then i had the power to make him wait. The makeouts were so much hotter that way. Slamming me up again porches, sneaking away and throwing me on top of washing machines. making excuses to dip into dark corners. but all the hot sucking face couldn't make up for the fact that when i did let him fuck me, he couldn't. I was ok with it the first time, super bummed the second, and totally over it the third. And when i say he couldn't fuck me, i dont mean that he was bad at it, i mean he could not fuck me. his shit didn't work. I guess the long ass wait put pressure on him (or so he says, and b/c i am still friends with this person, i'll believe that excuse superficially). so i cut and run on that one.
after that, which was in feb/march, there has been no one. I can't even tell you the last time i kissed someone. I think in may?! it's kinda pathetic. I went from being single and drunk, to single and so horny, to single and sad and now single and completely apathetic to it all.
I'm over it, i dont want to make the effort, i dont want to hear your pick up lines, excuses, attempts to hang out with me.
you all might wonder why i have been single and without some good deep dicking..
let me explain the men that have come around.
1. 22 and completely immature. when we did make out MONTHS ago, and it was just kissing and rubbing, he didn't talk to me for a month. wow. you are ashamed of ME?!
2. old friend. told him i wouldn't fuck him cause it would ruin things and it makes it hotter by keeping the fantasy alive. he got mad and left me in the bathroom at a party.
3. dude who tried to fuck my best friend and then went after me. when i said no, he went for my other best friend.
4. gay. when i mean gay i mean he said "you have split ends" to me! go fuck yourself.
5. men with short fuses. you know, the ones that get jealous even though you aren't dating. the ones aways trying to fight for you even though you hate fighting and can protect yourself. they are making up for some dick complex.
6. my employees. that all fun and all. But i dont want to look at them all day every day afterwards. esp if im not into them.
so. you tell me where the good men are. Bank account, job, friends, no rage problems, no penis problems and all that other usual shit women want in a man.
until then, i'll have my cuddle buddy to sleeps next to me but we never do anything but snuggle.
I am newly single in this fair city of ours. I broke up with my boyfriend about three and half months ago. I have yet to saddle up for a new ride. I desperately need to find an outlet for my sexual overdrive but my mind is getting in the way. The ex boy will crumble and possibly go slightly insane if he were to find out that I had moved on sexually. I am in quite a rut because I despise drama and I just want some secret touching. I spent the last five months of our relationship getting fucked only from behind laying down. Yes thats right, laying down unable to move under some one basically using my vagina as a jerk off device. I want someone to look me in the face next time I fuck someone, is that too much to ask. Ugh
Sunday, November 23, 2008
In this post, I would like to avoid writing a new list of things I'm barely tolerating this week (who wants to follow a formula used in bad teen movies *cough, Ten Things I Hate About You*), but I feel like the following paragraph is going to assume the same form. This is not to say that there are ten more things to hate about the same person earlier described. If I had spent any more time with him, I'm sure I'd be able to extend the list. But I'm talking about some other dude, because I'm avoiding Oscar Wilde's texts and calls. This is the third Richmond ride whom I've referenced in two posts. I did warn that I'm a six dollar whore.
To offer some context about the Friday night we spent together, I will say that in the past, almost nothing good has come of hanging out with him. We have almost no impulse control when we're in the same room: We drink to extreme excess, we make out in front of friends, we break into public buildings to have sex on furniture that does not belong to us, we run around naked in front of security cameras. He has odd possession fantasies (more on that later), so he likes me to hit on other men so he can watch and later assert ownership (and this makes me seem like a total floozy to all the people not in on the game). We tend to get down in a BDSM sort of way, so the violence from time to time spills out of the bedroom and terrifies my more protective friends, who are inherently mistrustful of men who appear to be strangling me. Together, we are completely out of control, and in my more dramatic moments I sometimes wonder if the excess of good times is going to end in death and/or prison time. (I, of course, will not be going to prison. I will be the one in the cardboard box at the crematorium.) Several times during sex we've crossed the line into the realm of dangerous and painful, leaving me with embarrasing bruises and him with a lot of guilt. Moreover, while he's made it abundantly clear that he likes me (he is given to easy praise), he has also made it abundantly clear that he LOVES his ex-girlfriend. I do not have the patience for this. Not even remotely. I'm not nineteen anymore. I don't want to listen to anyone who is naked in my bed prattle on about some other woman's beautiful eyes and lovely face. I don't care. I don't need to hear it. He also offered me a brief summary of my shortcomings in comparison to this woman, which compelled me to try seriously to CUT AND FUCKING RUN, as anyone with half a mind in her head would do. But I have about 1/4th of a mind, so instead, I dropped him for a month or so and picked up the world's boringest, faggiest straight dude, which brings me to Friday...
I did not plan to meet the person I've been describing (who I will refer to as the Basquiat reincarnation, thank you, dear friend with whom I share this blog). I in fact avoided his phone calls the week before, which left me feeling that I must be summoning some self-respect and dignity finally at the old age of twenty-three. Not so. I see him and make some vague and vain attempts to resist the urge to get involved in a three hour conversation. As though we were old friends who enjoyed each other's company... fucking lame. So there's some pathetic date-like stuff in there that involves him plying me with alcohol while I try to pretend that I don't fucking despise duck-pin bowling. There are long, vomitous conversations that make us seem to onlookers like a married couple. Crappy party, I lose my wallet, he thinks about thinking about getting in a fight, we walk eighty-five blocks home in the freezing cold, stopping several times to lick each others faces in public parks. When we finally do get home, we again have disturbing sex, though we're trying to avoid the real kink because it's gotten us in so much trouble recently. He doesn't beat me shitless this time, but he does say a few things that deeply disturb me. The almost complete list:
1. He says my name repeatedly, which doesn't do it for me. I know some people get off on that. It's not my scene.
2. As he's yanking down my panties, he says, "I like all of the women I sleep with to belong to me." (Again with the weird issues about possession.)
3. He tells me that in the three weeks we haven't seen each other, he has only had unprotected sex with two women.
4. He says, "I just broke the condom".
And finally, by far the creepiest comment, made after we have sex that involves a lot of choking/gagging noises:
5. "I like to hear you gag. Maybe it's the sadist in me, but I feel like I'm killing you. And I love it."
So, straight from the mouth of my regular ride, he wants to feel the life leave my body while he's fucking me. In addition, he has a thing for necrophilia, which he openly discusses. So, were I even the slightest bit motivated by concern for my safety, I would probably turn tail and try to escape... but honestly, half of this shit turns me on anyway.
To offer some context about the Friday night we spent together, I will say that in the past, almost nothing good has come of hanging out with him. We have almost no impulse control when we're in the same room: We drink to extreme excess, we make out in front of friends, we break into public buildings to have sex on furniture that does not belong to us, we run around naked in front of security cameras. He has odd possession fantasies (more on that later), so he likes me to hit on other men so he can watch and later assert ownership (and this makes me seem like a total floozy to all the people not in on the game). We tend to get down in a BDSM sort of way, so the violence from time to time spills out of the bedroom and terrifies my more protective friends, who are inherently mistrustful of men who appear to be strangling me. Together, we are completely out of control, and in my more dramatic moments I sometimes wonder if the excess of good times is going to end in death and/or prison time. (I, of course, will not be going to prison. I will be the one in the cardboard box at the crematorium.) Several times during sex we've crossed the line into the realm of dangerous and painful, leaving me with embarrasing bruises and him with a lot of guilt. Moreover, while he's made it abundantly clear that he likes me (he is given to easy praise), he has also made it abundantly clear that he LOVES his ex-girlfriend. I do not have the patience for this. Not even remotely. I'm not nineteen anymore. I don't want to listen to anyone who is naked in my bed prattle on about some other woman's beautiful eyes and lovely face. I don't care. I don't need to hear it. He also offered me a brief summary of my shortcomings in comparison to this woman, which compelled me to try seriously to CUT AND FUCKING RUN, as anyone with half a mind in her head would do. But I have about 1/4th of a mind, so instead, I dropped him for a month or so and picked up the world's boringest, faggiest straight dude, which brings me to Friday...
I did not plan to meet the person I've been describing (who I will refer to as the Basquiat reincarnation, thank you, dear friend with whom I share this blog). I in fact avoided his phone calls the week before, which left me feeling that I must be summoning some self-respect and dignity finally at the old age of twenty-three. Not so. I see him and make some vague and vain attempts to resist the urge to get involved in a three hour conversation. As though we were old friends who enjoyed each other's company... fucking lame. So there's some pathetic date-like stuff in there that involves him plying me with alcohol while I try to pretend that I don't fucking despise duck-pin bowling. There are long, vomitous conversations that make us seem to onlookers like a married couple. Crappy party, I lose my wallet, he thinks about thinking about getting in a fight, we walk eighty-five blocks home in the freezing cold, stopping several times to lick each others faces in public parks. When we finally do get home, we again have disturbing sex, though we're trying to avoid the real kink because it's gotten us in so much trouble recently. He doesn't beat me shitless this time, but he does say a few things that deeply disturb me. The almost complete list:
1. He says my name repeatedly, which doesn't do it for me. I know some people get off on that. It's not my scene.
2. As he's yanking down my panties, he says, "I like all of the women I sleep with to belong to me." (Again with the weird issues about possession.)
3. He tells me that in the three weeks we haven't seen each other, he has only had unprotected sex with two women.
4. He says, "I just broke the condom".
And finally, by far the creepiest comment, made after we have sex that involves a lot of choking/gagging noises:
5. "I like to hear you gag. Maybe it's the sadist in me, but I feel like I'm killing you. And I love it."
So, straight from the mouth of my regular ride, he wants to feel the life leave my body while he's fucking me. In addition, he has a thing for necrophilia, which he openly discusses. So, were I even the slightest bit motivated by concern for my safety, I would probably turn tail and try to escape... but honestly, half of this shit turns me on anyway.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
give me a real man
I need a guy like T.Pain. I need a smooth black man with a nice car and a swagger to follow. A little T. Pain with a slice of Dangelo's body. Sometimes I just want a big man who can wrap his strong arms around me and make me feel safe. Give me a man that can build a house and kill a deer with his bare fucking hands.
I have become sick of these skinny tired Elliot smith wannabes. I have become bored with these Basquiat reincarnations. Give me a brown skinned boy in a SUV bumping little Wayne with a fur coat on. Give me a man who can pick me up while we are fucking. Give me a man I can coward in front of. Give me a man that out weighs me. I just want to be fucked properly. By a proper fucking man. A man who can run a mile without taking a break. Give me a stupid fucking country boy in a fire bird red ford truck. Give me a farmer with rough hands and a thick dick. Give me a guy that will tell me to shut my fucking mouth when I'm over stepping my boundaries. Give me a guy that will rip my dress off of me and fuck me on the stairs. Give me a man who's favorite possessions are his dick and his book collection. I want a guy that I have to catch up with. Please give me a real man.
I have become sick of these skinny tired Elliot smith wannabes. I have become bored with these Basquiat reincarnations. Give me a brown skinned boy in a SUV bumping little Wayne with a fur coat on. Give me a man who can pick me up while we are fucking. Give me a man I can coward in front of. Give me a man that out weighs me. I just want to be fucked properly. By a proper fucking man. A man who can run a mile without taking a break. Give me a stupid fucking country boy in a fire bird red ford truck. Give me a farmer with rough hands and a thick dick. Give me a guy that will tell me to shut my fucking mouth when I'm over stepping my boundaries. Give me a guy that will rip my dress off of me and fuck me on the stairs. Give me a man who's favorite possessions are his dick and his book collection. I want a guy that I have to catch up with. Please give me a real man.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Things I'm Barely Tolerating This Week
Before I rattle off the list of things I'm barely tolerating this week, I will explain how on Wednesday I find myself with a new dude who is texting me to the point of chronic irritation. Last Saturday afternoon shortly before dinner, I am forced by a persistant friend to leave my bed (I spent all day sleeping one off) so I can listen to her talk at length about dudes. As per standard. I show up smelling like I belong in a barn, hair fucked into an enormous hank at the back of my head, wearing flip flops and a DARE t-shirt, still hung over and irritated that I'm not in my room with the blinds drawn. So we trade stories about trawling for bottom feeders and repeat offenders in crappy bars, leaving out none of the obscene details. All of this is usual. Only this afternoon, there is some dude there I have met briefly once or twice, but who listens to us both prattle on at length about the people in our beds the night before. I actually thought he was gay, so I wasn't too embarassed (but more about that later). Long and short of it, I think him attractive but boring, and apparently he likes the way my tits look in my stinky DARE shirt. I make up an excuse to leave because I'm tired of listening to him talk about being a salesman after criticizing my friends ill-manicured nails. He texts me, I go to the bar without him to get drunk, I text him after last call, he comes over... [yes, I am a six dollar whore]. THE CONVERSATION IS AWFUL. And now we have arrived at the list of things about him that I am barely tolerating this week and will probably not be tolerating next week.
1. He is a helpless fiend for text messaging. This included sending pix messages of the view from
my apartment to his roommate.
2. He talked at length about his "bromance" with his roommate, how close they are, how terribly he misses him when he's gone, etc. I know everyone is a little bit gay, but come on now...
3. After seeing that every surface in my room is covered in stacks of books, he comments that he only has two books, and that he hasn't read anything in two years.
4. He looks through my closet, commenting that I don't have many clothes or shoes.
5. He tells me that he has 32 pairs of shoes. This makes his shoe-to-book ratio 32:1.
6. We wear the same perfume.
7. He tells me how much the car payment is for his Audi.
8. He thinks it is all right to use the word "cuddling" when not preceeded by the phrase "I hate".
9. He expressed irritation that he couldn't find his Marc Jacobs sunglasses; he could only find his white-rimmed aviator Raybans.
10. And to round the list off at an even ten, I will repeat, WE WEAR THE SAME PERFUME.
So the guy's a dandy straight out of an Oscar Wilde novel. But, because the sex was awe-inspiring, multiple orgasm inducing, second only to one person in memory, and in short almost WORTH THE PAIN, I saw him again Monday. He spent the first forty minutes in the bar two-handed texting his roommate/gay fake husband, and finally he asked me to put his phone away. I was heaving a relieved sigh and fiddling with his jacket pocket when he PULLED OUT A SECOND BLACKBERRY. Motherfucker's got two. Later, he seemed unhappy with my choice of outfits and tried to convince me that I should take off my hoodie and put on the tiny jacket thing he's wearing. So, of course, in the future he will doubtlessly try to dress me like the life-sized blonde Barbie he always wanted. I spend every moment I possibly can steal standing at the bar making fun of him to whomever will listen, because, apparently, laughing at his expense does NOT get old. Later, he drove me to his loft in his Audi and fucked all of my reservations about his mind-numbing materialism right out of my head. And every time I hear my phone beep to indicate that I have a text message, my heart sinks a little in dread of what inanity demands my response. Last night, he referred to himself as a "sad boii". And then I threw up all over my not-nearly-stylish-enough shoes.
1. He is a helpless fiend for text messaging. This included sending pix messages of the view from
my apartment to his roommate.
2. He talked at length about his "bromance" with his roommate, how close they are, how terribly he misses him when he's gone, etc. I know everyone is a little bit gay, but come on now...
3. After seeing that every surface in my room is covered in stacks of books, he comments that he only has two books, and that he hasn't read anything in two years.
4. He looks through my closet, commenting that I don't have many clothes or shoes.
5. He tells me that he has 32 pairs of shoes. This makes his shoe-to-book ratio 32:1.
6. We wear the same perfume.
7. He tells me how much the car payment is for his Audi.
8. He thinks it is all right to use the word "cuddling" when not preceeded by the phrase "I hate".
9. He expressed irritation that he couldn't find his Marc Jacobs sunglasses; he could only find his white-rimmed aviator Raybans.
10. And to round the list off at an even ten, I will repeat, WE WEAR THE SAME PERFUME.
So the guy's a dandy straight out of an Oscar Wilde novel. But, because the sex was awe-inspiring, multiple orgasm inducing, second only to one person in memory, and in short almost WORTH THE PAIN, I saw him again Monday. He spent the first forty minutes in the bar two-handed texting his roommate/gay fake husband, and finally he asked me to put his phone away. I was heaving a relieved sigh and fiddling with his jacket pocket when he PULLED OUT A SECOND BLACKBERRY. Motherfucker's got two. Later, he seemed unhappy with my choice of outfits and tried to convince me that I should take off my hoodie and put on the tiny jacket thing he's wearing. So, of course, in the future he will doubtlessly try to dress me like the life-sized blonde Barbie he always wanted. I spend every moment I possibly can steal standing at the bar making fun of him to whomever will listen, because, apparently, laughing at his expense does NOT get old. Later, he drove me to his loft in his Audi and fucked all of my reservations about his mind-numbing materialism right out of my head. And every time I hear my phone beep to indicate that I have a text message, my heart sinks a little in dread of what inanity demands my response. Last night, he referred to himself as a "sad boii". And then I threw up all over my not-nearly-stylish-enough shoes.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I just burnt the cookies that I bought at 7 eleven for my fake boyfriend. He was my Richmond Regular ride and some how hes become my Roommate. He gives me Grocery money and Weed I give him room and board. He is perfect but he isn't mine. We've been acting like a married couple for weeks now and I regret my vows. I am re baking the cookies I burnt not out of sweetness but because I can't hide the scent of the burnt cookies. At least this way he can tell me he thinks they are burning and then i can prove to him that i am right and he is wrong. Falsely of course. Well I've smoked a good portion of his weed and now i am watching Requiem for a dream wondering if i am watching the movie or if the movie is watching me. Is it the cocaine or the weed. I stumble often. In my life in my choices in my decisions. I always seem to get by somehow. Maybe everyone just stops caring. my temple is pounding from the speediness of my thoughts. My mind is a kaleidoscope. I don't know what to do in this situation. He loves me as much as a girl that isn't his but I am indifferent at times. Comfortable. He ruins my minds avalability at the same time giving me the most luxurious dreams and amazing orgasms.
Monday, November 17, 2008
so yesterday I woke up in my bed with the guy who I sleep with when my boyfriend is out of town. then I walked across the street and slept with the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I have to stop sleeping with people in my neighborhood. This is so unacceptable. The worst part is I don't give a fuck.
Unacceptable isn't even an appropriate name for what I've done. It is low down dirty like a 70's poorly produced black porno with afro's and one piece paisley outfits and bad music.
I am having a complete mental meltdown i can't even type. I laid on the floor laughing about how pathetic I've been acting. It really is fucking crazy. Mind over fucking matter man. Mind over fucking matter.
So I have a slightly difficult situation. I have a boyfriend, A boyfriend who I love. He lives far away. I also have a richmond boyfriend. I adore my Richmond boyfriend, It started off as a wonderful sex arrangement but he has become my regular ride. Lately we have been acting as if we are a couple. I hate couples. I hate relationships and all the assumptions that go along with them.
Well last night while helping my friend prowl for dick. I randomly met a boy that was simply beautiful. It was 1:30 in the morning and we were hitting one more bar before i went home to my richmond boyfriend. I don't know if it was the vodka or my sex drive but i attacked this guy. I told him he was beautiful and I wanted to rape him. I told him I wanted to spend money on him and worship his as the God that he is. He told me " then kiss me". I said NO! but then I did. I said I can't talk to you I am married. He said take my number. I did. Then I preceded to message him until the early hours of the morning.
The next day I woke up with a massive hangover but that didn't stop me from fucking his brains out. I don't have time for bullshit. If I want something I go after it. Yes I could get rejected but I also could get accepted. Either way I leave with a good story. We lit up and put on a movie. We sat and talked for a bit. He kissed me and I couldn't keep my clothes on. His dick was perfect. The shape the size the taste. He told me I was sexy and I believed him. I wanted him to grab my hair and put his hands on my neck. I wanted to yell Fuck me over and over again. He said "sex hasn't felt this good in a long time". I wanted to tell him he was perfect. his body, his mind, his face, his kiss. I could write a sonnet about his kiss. It was smooth, It was sweet, It was soft. He put his cold soft hands on my face and I wanted him so bad.
He came. I let him rest then I gave him a blowjob. He came in my mouth and I felt like I had complete control on his body. He must think horribly of me. I was a cock hungry monster.
We rested then he went on his way. I don't know if i will ever talk to him again. I want to trust me I want to. I have never been so sexually attracted to someone before. He makes my body control my mind. I hate this. But it interest me. I don't care if he has other women. I don't care if he has other men. I don't care if hes poor, I don't care if hes a felon I want him. If he asked for my hand I would gladly cut it off and give it to him. Love like this is unintelligent and unsafe
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