Not Smart, Mildly Sexy and Thoroughly Irritating

I had a lazy ass day which included reading a romance novel in a bubble bath. I’ll dampen the cliché by adding there were no candles. I’m not a huge fan of romance novels but if they’re on sale for $2 I’ll pick one up. I’m really enjoying non-fiction right now (that is when I can read something other than a textbook and not feel guilty) so a fluffy, easy read is a nice change of pace.

The one I recently finished was just alright. Don’t get me wrong, the espionage, evading hired guns, private jets, black SUVs and an action packed chase in a golf cart was cute. And there were considerable amounts of steamy copulation but it was just so yawn.

My beef with this book is that it was clearly written for women by a woman yet has shit like this in it more than once:

“Jesus, Shayne, we’re going to run out of fuel at this speed.”
“You wanted to haul ass, I’m hauling ass.”
“At least it’s not Brody. He flies like a woman.”
Shayne looked pained. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll kick your ass.”

Excuse me, Ms. Jill Shalvis author of Smart and Sexy, I take offence… not only because your book title was misleading (it was not smart and only mildly sexy) but for your jab at womankind. Was a study released that women on average fly planes at speeds slower than their male colleagues? I missed the memo. Or maybe our apparent poor driving abilities translate to the air. Oh yeah, we’re supposed to be technically inferior, I forgot.

I don’t understand why Shalvis would perpetuate the notion that it’s insulting to be called a woman. So insulting in fact, that it’s worthy of an ass kicking to reaffirm masculinity. This just reflects the larger incorrect assumption of women as ineffective and weak. Romance novels should embody respect for women and cut out all misogynistic statements however brief. I'm not looking for a literary masterpiece. I only ask to be turned on, not pissed off.

At least pick a stereotype that has some legitimate basis to it. I wouldn’t have a problem if Brody shaved his legs like a woman, used tampons like a woman or wore a dress and heels like a woman. What about Shayne, he’s got a name like a woman. Is he going to beat his own mother up?

Withdrawal

I flaked on the meet for Tuesday. He's nice and all but he pressured me in to making a date so it's his own fault. The trick is to get me to the point where I'm dying to meet before asking. I'm mediocre on him. Maybe after some more emails but the balance is skewed now that I've bailed one and a half times (I was "busy" a couple of other occasions). Plus he lives out of town and I'm too lazy for that shit.

I've been utilizing my online resources lately. I haven't logged back in to AM per se but I've been chatting with previous contacts. The Traveler (if you remember, you're fucking awesome!) and I have a good rapport going. I'm not sure where his hometown is but he travels a lot (aren't I clever) and will be stopping by my area the end February. As of now, we'll be meeting up then and I actually look forward to it. We had ourselves some fun on our cams last night and it's official...

I am in serious cock withdrawal.

Cock is like my crack. Just look at my symptoms!

• the shakes
  
• anxiety
  
• irritability
• fatigue
• difficulty thinking clearly
  
• insense cravings
• muscle pain (embarrasingly due to excessive Wii use, but I'll blame it on this)

It's bad, folks. I've resorted to camming 3 times so far this week (it's usually only 3 a month) and it's only Wednesday. When I see a cock, I literally get over-excited and giddy. I pray whatever man I unleash myself upon will be able to survive it. I will be out of control and unstopable.

Bottom of the Barrel

As much as I hate to admit it, life was more fun a few months ago. I know The Doc was full of shit but it was still fun. I went out more. I was happier. I'm feeling so blah right now. I thought this was just a hormonal mood swing but I've been a mopey bitch too long for that.

I briefly mentioned a Doc relapse last post. I say that because he offered. It didn't help that I watched the video we made this weekend. I was making some still shots to send to Bond then got nostalgic... and turned on. It's been too long since I've blown someone. NYE doesn't count, it wasn't worthy of my stamp of approval. I'm undecided about meeting up with The Doc again. If I do, I'll probably won't be attracted to him and I can just leave it at that. There is a slight chance that I'll want to jump him anyway, despite everything. I don't know.

I set myself up for a meet-n-greet with an AM guy for tomorrow. I'll probably cancel last minute.

Oh, I never mentioned how my pie/textbook exchange went with R1. It was fine. He wasn't as cute as I remember. I must have been beer-goggeled. He's still entertaining to talk to but no potential there.

Zen is out of the picture again. I told him to pick a date to meet and it looks like he wimped out.

My well of potentials has dried up. I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel. It's time to start fresh and restock with a new plan of attack.

R2 Wednesdays Volume: 2

R2 and I made plans earlier in the week to hang out after class on Wednesday and "watch a movie." On Tuesday he takes a step back and says that he's not completely sure on it because he might have too much work to do so he'd let me know after class. I can see through that bullshit but I still remained hopeful. I figured I had a 50-50 chance of him following through so I conveniently only shaved 50% of my legs (the bottom half although divided vertically would be interesting).

I went over to him after class and he threw down his "too much work" line again along with the fact that his computer was busted so we couldn't watch a movie. Right. He kept asking me what I thought we should do. I think we were both working a shit-test on this. He wanted me to be upset about it rather than indifferent and offer solutions. I wanted him to think of something on his own or reschedule instead of ending without new plans.

We talk for a bit until he finally decides that another time would be better. He hugs me and leaves. First of all, I don't do the hug thing. I'm not a hugger. It's freezing outside so my hands are in my pockets and I'm not expecting it. Interestingly enough, it showed my level of attraction to him right there: a non-returned hug, no lean in, with hands still in my pockets and no attempt to remove them.

I want to fuck around + he wants to do homework = no thank you. Priorities are priorities but this is the third time we’ve cancelled. R2 is done. He just pushed me towards a Doctor relapse, fucking fabulous.

Drunk Message

I found this lovely drunk voicemail on my phone from Mr. NYE a few nights ago. It was too funny to not transcribe it.

*Incoherent yelling*

I want to touch your vagina… and your clit and…and… and I wanna lick it all over. I’ll lick it til you come… and then you’ll come again. And then, and then I’ll make a girl makes you come… ‘cause it’ll be that good. And uh, yeah, let’s make out. And, I, uh, wanna make out with you. You can dry hump me if you want, that’s cool. Yeah… yeah… YEAH! People can watch! It’s ok! PEOPLE CAN WATCH! People don’t even care. So, let’s just dry hump and then, and then I’ll hump you real good and.. uh.. I’ll be on you. I’ll take you to Pleasuretown. Wait! Look at that rainbow!

*More incoherent yelling*

I don't really understand the "make a girl makes you come… ‘cause it’ll be that good" part. Is he implying girls are better muffers? He drunk texts me frequently and always asks why I never pick up the phone. I blame it on long distance charges to which he replies he'll pay for it. It's then a back and forth of "I can't go there, you come here" laced with innuendos. There is no way I'm driving 8 hours to get to the aforementioned Pleasuretown. The texting is entertaining enough to keep him on tap for a while longer.

Happy Anniversary, Virginity!

Happy virginiversary to me! One whole year ago today, a cock ventured where no other had before. It wasn't amazing but it certainly affected how I spend my free time. I experienced things all over the spectrum... older men, students, affairs, one night stands, the internet, secrecy, public displays, cars, hotel rooms, etc. I might have been a little reckless at times but I'm alive and it was fun. Absolutely no regrets. I only hope to have as much fun in the next 365 days.

I'd like to say I spent today eating cake with a party hat on, having orgasm after orgasm but I can't. Holding a kleenex in one hand and a vibe in the other is not sexy at all. This is part of my conversation tonight with Bond, my favourite online guy, about my lack of sexual motivation towards my virginiversary.

Me: i should be in a hypersexual frenzy right now, in honour of it
Bond: that would be nice
Me: but all i want to do is go to sleep. totally not cool
Bond says: wow not even wanting to suck? what's wrong with you?
Me: i know, right! like if someone put a beautiful hard cock in my face, i'd probably gently push it aside.
Bond says: wow even mine?
Me: yours might get a lick or two first
Bond says: no, it'll be your thermometer
Me: i'd need a tracheotomy to breathe first
Me: and i'd rather not have snot everywhere. ew!
Bond: haha!
Me: although it would add a certain texture
Bond: it'd be extra sloppy
Bond: i'd probably like it haha
Me: i wouldn't like it on my face however... or in my hair. i have a really gross image starting to form
Bond: yeah that is pretty disgusting because at some point, id want to kiss you
Bond: yeah that is gross
Me: im really craving a simple, hardcore make out session. sans snot
Bond: come on now, don't they always lead to something more complicated?
Me: haha i'd set rules out preventing such. although knowing me, i wouldn't stick to them
Bond: damn straight you wouldn't
Bond: after all, you are my dirty little slut
Me: yes i am
Bond: i think you're the only girl that, when sick, still manages to turn me on

Some people claim promiscuity a phase. Is mine over? I fucking hope not!

PS. More virginity action here!

2009 Resolution

I'm a bit late finalizing my new year's resolution for '09. Good thing I didn't try to tackle procrastination this year.

I'm not going to care so much about what people may think of me.

I censor myself too much.
I don't do things that I want to do.
I don't try new things as often as I should.

I'm done worrying about what other people are thinking about me. It's gone on for too long and it's holding me back from becoming the person I want to be. I'm starting small. For example: the boots I briefly mentioned last post. I would normally have told myself that I couldn't pull them off and that to others I would look like I was trying too hard to be trendy. Fuck that! I love them and they make me taller than ever (a healthy 6' even).

R2 Wednesdays

Will this be a recurring feature? We'll see.

I hadn't spoken to R2 at all since I saw him in class last Wednesday. I saw him one other occasion on campus but neither of us said 'hi' so I'm not sure if he saw me... although I'm sure he did.

I'm not sure why but I dressed better than I would normally care to for a night class just for him. I rocked my new boots, a cute sweater and my hair looked sharp. I don't fully understand why I'm trying to impress him. I haven't explicitly dressed to impress for a specific guy in forever. A few times with The Doc but rarely. The whole notice me, notice me! is not my style.

He did not sit with me in class tonight because 1. he needed an outlet to plug his laptop into and 2. he didn't see me until all the seats were pretty much taken. Our small talk improved from last week. Seriously, small talk is not my thing. I generally find it awkward. But tonight I was on the ball. After class we both ended up in the library somehow. He claims I was following him when in fact I got there first. So we had a solid 15 minute conversation: the longest sober face to face we've ever had excluding the car ride back from his place one morning. I don't think I thought about reaching in to his pants once. Wait, is that even a good thing?

A girl I take the bus with mentioned later that R2 and I were "sitting in the library like boyfriend and girlfriend." She doesn't speak English very well so I'm not sure her true meaning got across but she can sense there is something peculiar. Overall this would be a cute situation if I had a smoldering crush on him and have not had his tongue all over me and his cock in my mouth [and splooge in my nostrils]. It's like eating half a burger and having someone yank the rest away. I would like to finish my man-burger! I want to get it on already. No more dancing around the issue. He is moving too slowly. It's time to start work on Plan B.

Tidbits

1. R1 - remember this guy? Waaaaay back from September there were some mild drunken antics that didn't lead to a follow up. We've kept in contact and have interesting online conversations that are usually about pie or sex. Pie is a constant running joke for some reason, probably because I find it to be delicious. And sex because one day I mentioned a sex convention in the area because it honestly surprised me. I was wondering what kind of marketing exposure it had and if he had heard about it. We had an interesting conversation on porn the other night making up our own brand and hitting all the different demographics. My favourite suggestion was a Christmas special which would hit the little people niche as they could be elves. Santa's workshop would be producing sex toys for lucrative product placements and "snowy" facials for all... and to all a good night. He tried to get me to start writing a scene but I played innocent and naive although he should know better. It turns out he has a textbook I need and is willing to sell it to me cheap in addition to baking him a pie. I wish I could always barter with baked goods. "See that plasma TV, $500 and 3 dozen cookies!" "I'll take this dress in blue for... a cheesecake." This will mean a face to face by the end of the week. Interesting.

2. I've been feeling in a nurturing mood lately. At work I've been eyeballing all the Dads* that pass through and have been thinking some less than clean scenarios. Not only do I want to fuck them senseless, I want to cook for them. Weird, right? I'm very against old fashioned standards that women clean and cook, blah blah but still. I want to cook a man a feast and watch him enjoy it. This probably contributes to why I offered to bake a pie. I want to pamper someone. I want to be the one to fetch a drink, get warm towels out of the dryer, random things like that. Although in reality I would probably get sick of this within an hour.

3. Zen is back. I never did follow up on that, did I? It kind of dwindled when I saw his picture and then there was all this Doctor drama so I never replied to his last email. He emailed me the other day so we might actaully meet up. I doubt it though. I'm not really feeling another internet hookup at the moment.

4. Speaking of internet hookups, I joined this ridiculous site called Online Booty Call. I found a link for it in my inbox from one of my online boys (a post on him soon). I've had over 300 offers in a week or so and not a single person is even close maybe. It lets you quickly go though everyone that is interested and gives you two options: Accept or Hell No! I cannot even describe the types of people on this site. It will get it's own post in time.

*Dads can be incredibly hot.

Study Buddy

Guess who I will now spend 3 hours a week with. R2! I honestly thought my campus was large enough to be able to dodge this guy, especially considering he's technically a year behind me.

I spotted him from across the lecture theatre and wasn't sure if he saw me. Oh but he did. At the end of class he stalled putting on his jacket so that he could "bump" in to me as I left. However, I was one step ahead and deep in conversation with my walking partner. I then managed to weave some people in between us. Outside after walking on opposite sides of the street he makes his move on the cross-over. He walks diagonally in front of us doing a casual over the shoulder glance... "Oh hey! It's you!" There was awkward small talk and with no goodbye we split up in the library. He walks by a while later (either legitimately going to the washroom or simply creeping by) while my friend was gone, waves and comes over.

He apologizes for the other night (we were supposed to hang out but there was a mix up and communication errors) and other random small talk. Less awkward than our previous conversation except I blushed. I fucking blushed. I haven't blushed in front of a guy in forever. He offered to drive me home because he knew I was waiting for the bus and I declined. Don't ask me why because I totally should have.

I'm sexually attracted to him but not really personality-wise. We cannot carry on an interesting conversation in person or online [while sober]. He is good looking, I won't lie. Fuck. I would like another piece of him. I'm not sure why. I think it's partially because looking at him reminds me of blowing (my favourite pastime?) and he reminds me of Mono-Boy (*swoon*).

Sigh. He better ask me to hang out soon and/or sit with me next week in class. All I want to do is mess around and all he has to do is not be an idiot. This could turn in to an interesting arrangement. I could have myself a nerdy study buddy for class, a ride home and someone to blow. Bullshit, I'm too optimistic sometimes.

New Year's Eve Pt 2.

Continuation of Part 1.

One of Mr NYE's friends was a huge creeper. It didn't bother me because well... deep down I'm a perv too. I referred to him as Creeper the entire time to his face. Example of Creeper activities: he wanted to walk behind me when he wasn't carrying me to see my ass and repeatedly asked when it was his turn or if he could see me naked. This was making Mr NYE mad/jealous so I tried to pretend that it wasn't entertaining. Their hotel had super strict security and wouldn't let me in unless we paid extra, bastards. Creeper said, "That makes you a prostitute now. He just paid to have sex with you." I'm a cheap whore at that: 3 drinks, transportation (free! except for potential back ache) and a $15 hotel fee.

I didn't really think of the sleeping arrangements until I got into the room (3 guys, 2 beds and a couch) but it was fine with me. (This freaked some friends out later. "Oh my god how could you do anything with other people in the room!" They don’t know of my exhibitionist tendencies.) I crawled into the closest bed as soon as I got in the door and Creeper jumped on top of me which he did multiple times. More alcohol was consumed and the boring friend fell asleep. Creeper was watching porn on his iPhone with the volume cranked and sending texts from my phone trying to get my friends to come over. While Mr NYE was in the bathroom I had Creeper come over and show me what he was watching and to pull up a blow job video. When Mr NYE came back he pushed him off the bed and hit him with a pillow while Creeper protested that it was my idea. I was trying to be a good girl so I ignored the thought to blow Creeper when Mr NYE passed out.

I had no problem messing around with other people in the room or even them being awake. I’m pretty sure at one point I was blowing him and participating in a conversation with the others at the same time. Sure, I was under a blanket but it’s still pretty obvious. It took hearing two distinct snoring patterns before Mr NYE escalated his participation. Having to be quiet sucked. Mr NYE was library-whisper quiet whereas I was more of a ‘attempting to make it look like I’m not trying to wake the men nearby’ volume. It cut spanking right out of the picture. A quality slap would have woken someone up for sure.Mr NYE was a huge cuddler. That’s what put the clincher on messing with Creeper aside from a more sober reflection. I could never escape his grasp. It was cute for a while but to go from suffering extreme cold earlier to extreme heat was taxing. I guess it’s better to be cuddled than shoved aside afterwords. Ease up on the grip, buttercup! A friendly spoon is ok, not a 'head on the chest' arrangement.

In the morning, with beer goggles removed he was still cute, thank god. He tried to start something again but I genuinely felt like I might vomit. We were lent a car and a jacket to take me where I belonged. My outfit screamed whore in the daylight. It's weird that in the dark it's hot but incredibly trashy in the day. An old man winked at me in the hotel elevator whereas an older lady shook her head disapprovingly. The car ride back wasn't as awkward as it could have been. We even made out until we were honked at for blocking traffic.

I've thoroughly stalked his facebook profile now and it looks like I didn't pick a loser/weirdo. I might change my mind on that if he texts me again. He was my first American in the sack and I won't say he tarnished the American reputation for me but he left considerable room for improvement.

I certainly brought in the new year with a bang. All I wanted was subsidized drinks and a kiss at midnight.

New Year's Eve Pt. 1

I thought I was going to behave and be a good girl on NYE. Being officially single compounded with lots of alcohol made me flirtatious to the max.

In one of the washrooms in the club there was a skinny spot you could slip by to get over to the men's side. I ended up over there a lot actually. I had a good rapport with the towel guy and spritzed lots of men with cologne. I somehow accosted the club lighting guy while he washed his hands on two separate occasions. We went up to the DJ/lighting platform area which was more fun than regular VIP because I was allowed to touch buttons and could see results. I'm such a dork that I kept asking questions about how everything works. The DJ's computer was really complex and I couldn't figure that one out but he played whatever songs I wanted.

It was getting close to midnight and I had yet to find a good prospect to kiss because I wasted too much time fucking around with the lights.

11:50: Oh shit. I need to get on the dance floor and get looking.
11:52: Ugly...creepy... too short... did he just grab my ass?... He stole my hat! Too bad he's not cute.
11:55: My friend and I agree to kiss each other if we can't find anyone decent.
11:56: Gross... too old, how did he even get in here... shave before you leave the house... nice suit, bad smile... don't tug on my arm.
11:57: Hey! Someone's holding on to my balloon string. Cute, well-dressed, nice tie, good shoes, tall enough, smells delectable.
11:58: This guy can actually dance and doesn't immediately go for my ass.
11:59: Ok. I'll stick with this guy. I tell friend to find someone ASAP.
12:00: Excellent kisser.
12:02: Still excellent kisser.

The next two hours is a blur. I stuck with Mr NYE. We danced, made out and drank a lot. I couldn't find any of the seven girls I came with and my cell reception was horrible so everything was getting delayed in and out. A friend was holding my coat check ticket but I tried to get my coat anyway to no avail. Mr NYE couldn't find his friends either and they had his ticket too. While in line at the other coat check to try and get his coat I finally get a text from a friend that says they all went home and took my coat with them. Jerks! I recall making a pact to leave no woman behind. Thankfully, we saw his two friends in line.

I decided to go with them since there was no way I was walking back alone with no coat and flagging a cab was impossible. It was freezing that night. -20 with the windchill. For you Americans I'll convert it: -4. I'm not sure how many blocks we had to walk but it was at least half an hour. Mr NYE let me wear his coat but my legs were still majorly exposed. I came prepared with leggings but they were in my coat pocket. My legs got so tingly and painful that I couldn't walk at a pace more than a shuffle so the guys took turns piggy-backing me (That's what she said!). This wasn't the classiest choice but modesty had to take a back seat. Even though I was wearing full ass covering underwear I still got a few car honks and awkward stares.

Part 2