Friday, April 29, 2005

Odd Thing.

Li was there today. Lately he's been absolutely giddy. It's very odd. Anyway, he was vaguely flirtatious today and it pleased me. Of course. Because. Well. You know.

So, he grabbed my arm today and lay it on a box nearby. Then he grabbed his big industrial style box cutter, which I recognised as his box cutter as he brought it around... and proceeded to swing it rather slowly toward my arm. I watched in fascination as I thought "wow, this may really hurt." I twitched vaguely as the blade made contact with my flesh. Except... it didn't hurt. He slid the blade down the length of my arm toward my wrist as I considered the complete lack of pain.

Oh, the blade wasn't out.

I stared at my arm completely bewildered.

And then realised he was just playing with me. Threatening to cut me. And I'd aquiesced without question. Even as I'd recognised that "yes, that blade is going to cut into the first inch of so of my skin and muscle... that's going to be a problem" I left my arm where it was, at his mercy.

Guess I trust him.

I related the story to my husband to which he replied "you really have no survival instinct do you? I'd have introduced my fist to his face."

I did however, later and on an unrelated note, end up punching him twice in the stomach and following it with an elbow and the comment "I hope at LEAST one of those hurt." I don't even remember what it was he did, but the reaction was well deserved. And what I realised after the first punch was "oh my god, that's firm." The second was to confirm that in fact he had some killer abs. The elbow was just an excuse to touch him a third and final time.

Yeah, it's really third grade, but fuck it, you know? It was a fun day.

I hate this season.

Whatever it is... (okay, the allergies)... I loathe it. I loathe waking up to a perpetually runny nose and I loathe spending the day sneezing. Claritin is a god send. But even that's not perfect.

I had the opportunity for sex a couple of days ago with DJ. However, life got in the way, what with the death of Min, followed shortly by the death of Deni. The later being a huge, inexplicable surprise. I'm down to one Meg-rat and I'm watching the hell out of her. The strange thing is that Min was sick for a good month. The vet said "cancer" probably of the bladder. Deni showed no signs of ANYTHING until after Min died... at which point she got lethargic and died within about 24 hours of Min. So there's Meg left. Alone.

Which isn't to say I didn't masturbate both days. I just couldn't NOT. I HAD to.

I'm tired of death.

More sex, please.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

*SNAP*

Sometimes it's something that causes other depression that can snap a person out of the one they're in. Which is to say I'm still mildly depressed. After all, a beloved pet just died. However, I have a delightful feeling of satisfaction completely unrelated.

Just out of the blue I decided I wanted to fuck husband. I was vaguely horny and ready to act on it. I moved over to where he was on the couch and began to play with him. I was disappointed when his body didn't respond immediately but continued to touch him despite my misgivings based on the fact that he wasn't protesting. It wasn't long before I was rewarded with him becoming increasingly firm.

I continued to stroke and tease him through his clothes for a good half hour, teasingly letting my mouth slide over his skin. I knew he hadn't showered from the day's exertions so I declined to put my mouth on his cock, expecting that he'd at least wash later so I could take him into my mouth.

He watched me, more than the show, as I teased and wrapped my mouth around his clothed cock. It was hard to resist taking him into my mouth right there, but I know myself better than that and the evening would have been ruined by a bad smell or taste. So I forced myself to continue to tease him. Finally, he turned off the tv and we went upstairs. He asked me "do you want to ride me like a pony?" I shook my head. "Do you want me to ride YOU like a pony?" A rare offer from him. But I also declined that.

Upstairs he went to the bathroom and then joined me in bed. We snuggled and I played with his cock some more. "Did you wash?" I asked. "No... that'd take a shower, really. I didn't shower after my workout and I can't subject you to that." I ran my finger over his face, down his shoulder to his arm, drawing his hand up to my mouth. "That's a shame," I told him, drawing his index finger into my mouth and closing my eyes for a moment savoring the familiar, addicting sensation of sucking on him," you could have had a free blow job."

He was quiet a second before saying, "I could go take a quick shower!" I laughed at him, "no, no... it's too late now." "You are such a tease." I laughed at him again. "It's your own fault. You should have thought ahead. About head. Ha. Thought... a... head...." Yeah, okay. I riffed on that dead horse for a moment.

Finally, I began stroking him more earnestly. I was ready to help him cum. Except my arm started getting tired. I finally took up position over his body, mounting him so his crotch was close to my own, and readily accessible. At which point I proceeded to jerk him to orgasm.

He came over my hand and on himself and after I cleaned him off with the readily available towel, I snuggled next to his weakened, drained form until kissing him goodnight and heading downstairs.

Much as I resent his selfishness at times, sometimes it's just so fucking life affirming and sexy to be the bringer of such delight.

Okay.

I appreciate the complete lack of sympathy there. Fuck all y'all that read and couldn't say "wow, that sucks" or anything else. And for those who read after this particular message... well, you're off the hook.

Moving on.

Rod... I don't know wtf is wrong with your blog and my internet explorer but they've never gotten along. For instance your most recent post has at least three comments. I can only read the first two and maybe part of the third... and certainly can't make my own comment because the page cuts off no matter how many times I reload or change the shape and size of my window. I blame your blog because it's the ONLY one that does it. What's it's problem? Anyway. I don't know if I'm the only one having the problem but I thought I'd let you know it was one in case you didn't know. I'd have e-mailed you privately but I didn't see an e-mail address... and I couldn't scroll down to a comment button. So.

I'm generally low-grade depressed. But, it'll get better.

Death

Yeah, Min died. And as if by fate it was maybe ten minutes after I headed out to the vet with her. We got stopped by one of those construction flaggers and I looked over and saw that she was doing the death breathing that I've seen in other dying animals. I knew then that it was too late. I ended up turning around and going back home, she died as I held her in one hand, driving the car with the other.

And all I could think was "please, god, don't let them inspect the car this time. I REALLY don't want to have to explain the dead rat...." Of course, they didn't inspect. But it would have been pretty fucking hysterical if they had.

I took her out and kinda-buried her in the woods. It's not important to me that her body remain undisturbed. She can be someone's easy dinner. It was more about me letting her go than anything.

It hurts to cry, now. Real, physical pain in my tear ducts when I start. I'll be okay in a bit.

But it sure sucks.

Back to regularly scheduled writings later. Or another day.

Min Rat is dying.

She's on her last day, I think. I thought she'd die over night.

I want to take her to be euthanized. Save her a few hours of suffering.

But everytime I think about it I begin crying. Uncontrollably. When I stop considering having her killed and just deal with the idea of her dying on her own... it's okay again. It's a low grade pain.

I think it means I'm selfish.

Today started out bad, though. I woke up crying. A bad dream. Work related.

Seems fitting that this should happen today.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Chickie.

There's this chickie at work. I said something about Li. She agreed that he had sex appeal. Sexy, sexy, sexy. But the dude needs to shut his mouth.

Yes. Thank you!

So we considered this and the fact that he's very closed minded. And I said something about the fact that he's probably not very good in bed. She sighed heavily and said "no, he's probably very good, unfortunately. One of those guys you want to call over but 'oh, you're going to open your mouth?... I gotta go.'"

Yah.

I mean, I CAN carry on a conversation with him. A very good conversation with him. Except that we're very opposite in our views of the world. He thinks in terms of black and white (and he'll say as much himself) whereas I see the world in shades of grey.

Anyway. He'll be there tomorrow.

Too bad he'll open his mouth....

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Not Sexual Meme

Just one question I felt like answering:

Name a song you hate that is performed by a band you like. Name a song you like by a band you hate.

How Do You Like Me Now by Toby Keith
Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park


But, which is which?

In love: a crush.

I hate to talk too much about my job. I don't want you to know what kind of work I do. I think the mystery is more interesting than the knowing. Which makes my story kind of hard to tell. But I'll try.

A man came in to pick up some things which belonged to him. He was probably about forty, with greying hair, dressed in a nice silvery grey suit. He drove up in a large black pick up truck. "How incongruous," I thought. But that inconsistancy had me interested, curious as to what he did in his spare time. What kind of very different person he was at home versus away from work.

The items he was there to pick up were large. And quite dirty. It had been raining and his items, while awaiting his attention had gotten wet. Seeing as I was not dressed quite as nicely as he was, and of course I work for the company which held the items, I set about getting his items into his truck. At which point he began helping. I stopped momentarily "um... are you sure you want to do that?" He said "it's fine" and went back to helping me. Interestingly, while I didn't study him it appears that I had managed to get dirty while he stayed clean. Must be magic.

The fact that he helped me, when there was no pressure for him to do so also pleased and interested me. Was it because I was a woman doing a "man's job" or because I'm merely a person laboring before him and while he was able bodied and therefore couldn't resisit helping? Or had he expected to do it himself? My crush grew exponentially.

Finally finished, I went to let him out of the gated area, walking quickly away. I considered the man mentally and decided I had a huge crush on the guy after only a few minutes. As he pulled his truck past me at the gate he gave me a couple of dollars for my work. Which was entirely unneccessary and unexpected. "You got away too quick!" he said. I smiled and accepted the money, though it wasn't like me to do so.

So as soon as he pulled away I thought I ought to have said something like "the suit, the truck... and you helping me... man... I just got a big ol' crush on you!" Or maybe that would have been really really weird.

In reply: (a cheap way to write a post without coming up with content)

Evan asks:

So, I'm left wondering what your first choice in the physical department is and why he doesn't fit?

My very very FIRST choice in the physical department tends to be toward big, strong men. Like, world's strongest man competitors. And some wrestlers. Like The Rock, Duane Johnson, around the Scorpion King time. That to me is the height of sex appeal.

Needless to say Jones is not built like that.

My second choice in the physical department... well... it might be that really skinny, "geeky" guys. Or the guys who are "big boned". Like, heavy but not uncomfortably so. Experience has told me that the later tend to not be... umm... hung very well. And to a point that's fairly important to me, so the attraction has dimmed somewhat but I still find myself responding to that body type.

As you might, guess, Jones is not built like those, either.

Which isn't to say I'm NOT attracted to his physique. I just don't find it irresistable. At least, not clothed. Naked... well... most men are hard to resist naked.

Evan also says:

Even if you don't, by flirting with him and then being aloof, you're making him think you're wanting him to chase you.

That is SO totally not the thing I was trying to do. In truth, I've been working with the idea of "he can go this far and then I have to stop it." I'm not sure how being aloof would make someone think they should chase you since it just makes me stop flirting altogether... but what can I say? My experience tends to be somewhat limited and certainly one sided.

On the other hand, I do tend to lead him on at times. Like when I asked him the other day "what is it you WANT, Jones?" knowing full well that opened him up to a world of possibilities before I added "and you better give a nice answer." I give him those openings, and go along with it up to the point that my head starts spinning and I become flustered. And then it has to stop because I can't THINK anymore.

One thing I am not: smooth with the men.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Oh... that could be a problem.

Yesterday, Jones came in. He called me, gave me one of his "you want me" stares with a slow smile, and said "hi." I really ought to point out, at this point, that Jones is 100% sure that he is hot. He is 100% sure that women desire him. He's also 100% sure he can charm any woman he wants. He's 98% right. Fucker. Needless to say, he's WELL versed in flirting and how to make a woman feel desired. Which is why I resist him. Aint nobody in this world needs to be THAT confident. So I waved and walked away with a coworker.

Nothing else of note happened.

However, I do have a new employee to contend with. He's young, and in college. And totally the kind of guy I dig. Well, not my FIRST choice in the physical department he's definately a close second. Now, my feelings will probably change as I work with him. Probably not for the better. But for now... I'm going to have to try really hard to keep my attraction to him a secret.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Counter

I'm seriously considering putting up a masturbation counter. Because god damn am I a busy girl. I like it.

Yesterday, Jones came in with the adolecent I mentioned in a recent post. I finally figured out that the kid is Jones' nephew. And his daughter came in for some reason (she knew he'd be there). Turns out his daughter is like... my age. Creepy.

Jones was flirting pretty hard with me. And I let him, a little. The more I think about the actual idea of sleeping with him (or even just carrying on anything more than a mild flirtation) the more I think it would be a very very bad idea. Now his brother....

Anyway, Jones made it a point to stand way too close to me. As I was leaning against a truck he came over and leaned against me in the same way, as if I weren't there. His body pressed against mine, causing the most delightful pressure. He moved away just as I thought "wow, that's lovely...." I love the weight of a man's body.... He later tried to draw me into the back of a truck but I declined. Just such a bad idea....

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Foul Mood

Today started out with promise. I spent the morning with husband, kissing him a few times. He was receptive to my advances, though I didn't have time to act on it. It was really nice. A good send off.

I got to work and Li wasn't there. But he was going to be. And I was in an exceptionally good, flirty mood.

But he never showed up.

And I could have flirted with one of the other guys there but he brough either his son or some other relative and it just felt wrong to flirt with him in front of the young teenager. The boy isn't blind or retarded after all.

Li never called. Hours later I called him on my cell to see what was up. He didn't answer. Finally, he called me back. I explained a work situation. He told me he had a really bad headache from all this and was "looking at some other options." Because apparently it was "too much" for him to deal with. I got irritated. I said, "alrighty. Bye." and that was that. I hung up feeling aprehensive and annoyed.

I was reminded why I tend to be extremely antisocial. Why all my friends are kept at arms length. I don't LIKE feeling like the person I'm talking to is far less interested in me than I am in them. Fuck you. FUCK YOU, I say.

So I'm grumpy.

I'll feel better.

Just not right now.

Monday, April 18, 2005

Yay.

Further flirtatious e-mails are being sent between husband's friend and myself. I asked husband "won't you be mad if I sleep with your friend?" be he claims not. Guess we'll find out. I mean, if we can keep things like... right. If I feel even an inch more uncomfortable about things, I'll drop it.

Meanwhile, I very nearly went back on the pill this month but changed my mind because I can definately feel my libido coming back and I LIKE IT. I'm starting to eye men with more appreciation. It's a very pleasant thing.

So much potential fun.

Yesterday was husband and my sixth anniversary. Crazy. I got him tickets to see a show (with myself and his friend). He got me nothing. At all. Nothing. Mmm. That's my romantic husband for you. He told me "I was in a GOOD MOOD ALL DAY. I didn't complain at all." Remembering his bitchy mood earlier I disagreed. "You did TOO. I'm Husband and I can't find my toy. Waaaaaaaaah." "Yeah, focus on the negative," he replied. I mean, for fuck's sake. But really, neither of us was mad. I just found myself somewhat disappointed. Not even a CARD. I mean... since WHEN don't I AT LEAST get a CARD? Fuck, I'd even take an e-card! Instead I get NOTHING.

Although, here's the funny part. Early in the morning, after I'd been up for an hour or so, husband said "Happy anniversary!" I stared at him blankly. "Oh. Yeah! I forgot," I finally said. He replied "Oh. You were acting kind of pissy. I thought you were mad I'd forgotten." I smiled, baring my teeth. "Yeah, I'm mad YOU forgot. Yes! Very." Of course, I'm NOT a morning person, so of course I was acting pissy. Nothing to do with him.

Anyway, when I bought the tickets I bought an extra one so we could take Husband's friend with us. I spent the better part of the night flirting with him. I made it a point to turn the conversation to the sexual whenever possible, just to tease the hell out of him. Apparently he's one of those sorts who likes to talk dirty during sex. Possibly expecting answers to various silly questions. Like "Who's your daddy." Well, maybe not that one. Anyway, I find that INCREDIBLY distracting nine times out of ten. I'll chance it, though.

The last half of the show I was having visions of how best to get him alone and at least get him to kiss me. (He's rather a bit taller than I am so it's difficult to force the issue). Of course, none of that happened. When we got back to his place (where our car was) I asked him if his bathroom was open for business. The three of us went upstairs and when he opened the door his STBXwife was sitting on the couch. There was no question of privacy. Although we stood unnaturally close together which only served to make me nervous.

And then husband completed his business and we left.

This morning I sent him an e-mail in response to the one he sent yesterday morning (but which I didn't recieve until this morning) telling him I was terribly sorry about the lack of nudity for him in the show. And for my disappointment at having to invite myself up to his place. And then the utter lack of privacy.

I wonder where this will go?

As an aside, he was driving his SUV, husband sat up front with him and I ended up sitting behind the driver. In the darkness of the late evening, I touched myself enjoying the incredibly bumpy road. Unfortuantely, I didn't even try more than passingly for an orgasm. It would have been a much more interesting story if I had, though.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Horn!

Oh, lord. Just started my period today. My first clue that it was coming was the rapid (and rabid) ingestion of salt... sweet... salt... sweet. The second... i was freezing my ass off the other day. And it was about 80. Thirdly? My incredibly horniness.

I think I've masturbated 5 times in the last 24 hours. And was telling husband "I need to FUCK. I want to FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" But no fucking for me. No birthcontrol divice we both find acceptable was available (the pill... creams... whatever) so no fucking. Oh, fuck.

So I'm horny. Li should be there tomorrow. Like I really need Li around when I want to fuck so bad. Shoot, one of the guys from work (TJ) was wanding around. TJ is a terrible flirt. Which is to say he's reasonably attractive and flirtatious as hell. And I woulda given into my baser urges and hit that because I WANT TO FUCK. I told him I wanted him to come see something and to come with me and he started unbutton his shirt, "I've been waiting for you to ask me that." And I was totally into it. Although I'm sure I looked dispassionate. My hormones said "fuck!" my brain said "not a good idea but...."

It'll go away. I won't need to fuck quite so bad, soon. Besides, having my period so makes me NOT feel desirable. Sure, I'd have sex during it, but preferably with someone I've slept with previously because it's kind of a more personal, intimate thing, I think. I don't think I have any willing participants so I'll sit here quietly until the horniness passes and I'm "back to normal."

Anyway. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Marathon fuck, please. Oh, please.

I heard one of the songs that was playing the first time I had sex with the ex. It reminded me of the spectacular marathon sex we used to have. Mmm. Sex.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

New TV.

Today, I went and bought a new TV for the bedroom upstairs. We mostly stay downstairs and watch the 30" tv which might not be all that NOW but was terribly pricey when we bought it because of the aspect ratio and HD feature. Upstairs had the super sweet 13". Yeah, baby. We do it in style. I liked having 13" in the bedroom. Except it was the wrong kind.

Now we have a 20" LCD flatscreen up there. Cheapo for what it is, guaranteed to bust in a few years, but so nice to have something bigger in the bedroom. Which is to say maybe I'll spend more time up there. Probably masturbating. Now I have somewhere to watch all those old VHS porn tapes I bought way back when....

Annoyingly my internet connection on this computer broke completely and then randomly and inexplicably righted it self again. No explaination. It just works, now. I'm not complaining. However, while it was out I was sent into a frenzy trying to find the disc with the internet set up info on it. I find out cardboard holder which it came in and triumpantly slipped it's contents into my CD/DVD drive only to discover I'd replaced the internet CD with porn. In fact, most of my porn disk holders are empty... and my other disks have been replaced with porn. I have my priorities straight.

Foolish me.

Last night, husband came home from work tired. Sore. "You would NOT believe the workout they made us do yesterday," he told me. "And then today they thought it would be a good idea to make us run 3.2 miles!" He headed up to bed to lay down, turn on the TV, and read. "I might not stay up there if I start getting stiff."

I giggled. "If you start getting stiff, call me!"

"what?"

"If you start getting STIFF... call me!"

"Ah. I doubt that."

I went back to my game but became frustrated. I went upstairs to lay with him, needing his soothing company. As we lay together I reached to feel his shorts. "Guess you're not stiff yet."

We lay quietly his eyes on the tv. Some innocuous g4-techtv show. Husband tells me, "I have a chubby." I reach down and check. It's firm, though not yet hard. Fuckable. I could move over him, slip him inside of me and feel him grow to full hardness, feel it flexing to reach deeper. "I think it's more than a chubby," I tell him.

He pulls his shorts down and I began to trail a teasing finger through his pubic hair and over the shaft of his cock. He bites his lip, squirming. "Don't tickle me!" I continue until he gets fed up and pulls his shorts back up. Covered now again, I use more firm pressure. There's something about hard cock under fabric I can't resist. I work on bringing him to full hardness. He pulls his shorts back down, playing the "you can't tell that I'm pulling them down" game. Once freed, I immediately go back to tickle teasing him. He groans. "You're going to give me blue balls."

I laugh. I move my hand down to cup and massage his balls. "That should help." He groans again. "YEAH, that's going to HELP." I laugh, again. I kiss his pec, letting my tongue trail over his skin briefly. Salty. I won't put my mouth on his cock. Instead, I watch as his hand moves to begin touching himself. I interfere, letting my hand take over. Stroking just right. But only for a minute. I stop touching him altogether. I love to know he wants to be touched... and not doing it. Finally, his hand makes it's way back to his cock and I let him, my fingers moving once again to his balls. Realizing there's nothing to clean up with, I leave him, rushing for fear he'll finish without me.

He awaits my return and we finish where we left off. I listen to him cum, my fingers on the crux of his legs. "You're the best masturbation tool, EVER" he tells me. I smile, "am I your flesh light?" He shakes his head, "no... no batteries. No electricity... well... okay, you have electricity but... let's just start over okay? You're my flesh light." I smile.

I gotta get him to help me cum sometime soon, too. Fairs fair. I should have been fucked, though. Could have been. IF I'D BEEN ON THE PILL.

Monday, April 11, 2005

What would I do?

If there was no porn I'd be so SOL when it comes to orgasms.

I've decided that traditional porn sex has lost most of it's interest for me. I'm now only pleased by watching men give oral, or anal... or... like... just something that's somewhat less common. But that's just for watching.

I still looooooooooove being fucked.

Especially after a particularly shitty day at work.

Thank god for dildos.

And memories of really fantastic sex....

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Annoying.

Apparently half the internet doesn't work right now. And I'm not sure why. I can't check my e-mail. I can't visit some of the sites I regularly visit. I can't log on to my cell phone account (although my husband can). I can't visit at least one of the sites I need for business (tried both at work and at home).

No sense is coming from this.

And Mozilla Firefox STILL doesn't work. I tried top uninstall it but it does this half-assed uninstall which leaves behind all it's information so the next time you install it... oh... there's all my same favorites and everything....

I could probably figure it out if I tried hard enough but I want to fucking know why I HAVE to "try hard enough" in the first fucking place. When I tell you to get the fuck out of my computer... you GO. COMPLETELY. None of this "okay, but I'm not packing my things" shit, okay?

Am I frustrated and bitter? How could you tell?

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Secret, Secret....

I have so many amusing work stories from today to share. Except I won't share them here. Except maybe this one...

I was looking for something in the very crowded messy warehouse. I stepped forward to look at a box. A rake came up and hit me hard. On the shoulder. I was glad it was not my face. I said "ow!" very loudly. And then laughed at the slapstick comedy of the whole thing. Turns out it doesn't just happen in cartoons. Damned rakes.

Onto something more interesting.

Last night I considered that'd been several days since I'd masturbated... or even felt the urge. So I decided to do so. I lay in bed while husband was downstairs, but he came upstairs before I was done. So I stopped, trying to seem innocent. He went to the bathroom and I thought "I think I can finish before he's out, and he'll never know! Ha!" so I masturbated with silent abandon. I came within about a minute, the only thing changing was my breathing. As I lay there trying to catch my breath I realised it would be a dead giveaway so I took a couple of deep breaths and calmed my breathing just before husband came out of the bathroom.

"Did you just have an orgasm?" he asked.

How the FUCK did he hear that? I stared at him a second, considering lying. Then admitted I had, and giggled myself silly. He told me he heard my breathing. How the FUCK did he hear that?!?

Damned man, ruining my secret fun.

Monday, April 04, 2005

You might consider me cloistered.

I'm spending much time in contemplation of God of War... so much so that my forearms are somewhat sore. I grip the controller rather tightly at times, it seems. Oops.

I must return to the slaughter.