What're the chances...

That super hot gate guard was my VERY FIRST customer today. What're the chances of that? Especially after I just HAD to gossip about him to husband. He wasn't in his typical hat and uniform and it threw me off. However, after he left I was shaking just a little and of course... giddy. Because he does that to me.

I desire this man. And will NEVER EVER have the opportunity to lay a finger on him. Dammit. Lots of lust there.

But such is my life. Desire for what I can't have... and no real desire for what is available. Pretty much sucks, really....

So there's this guy.

I've mentioned him before. He's super good looking. One of the gate guards. He comes in with his super hot friend gate guard all the time. However, the one... he still floors me every frickin' day. He walks in and all I want to do is gaze adoringly at him. It is ALL I CAN DO to stick with my task at hand and NOT just stare dumbly at him for being so beautiful.

To put a little perspective, I had a huuuuuuuuuuuuge crush on John Michael Montgomery (pictured above) when I was in school. This guy looks like a BETTER looking version of JMM. Better looking! Of John Michael Montgomery! Is that even POSSIBLE? But of course it is. Except I convince myself "naw... he's only human..." and then he walks in the door, this tall, built, sexy hunk of a man.

Did I mention he's tall? I have a thing for imposing men. Not that I'd turn down a man for his stature, but he towers over everyone else. Not freakishly so... but enough.

Anyway, the point is I tried to go to sleep and when I wasn't thinking about the video game I've been playing I was envisioning this hunk of a man trying to decide all the nasty, dirty things I'd do to him given the chance. And realising how bad I just want to lick every inch of his perfection and worship the ground he walks on. Well, okay, I already do the later. Now let's get to the former!

Then there's the guy with the chewing tobacco (NOT the hot guy, the OTHER guy I mentioned in a previous post) whom I find myself continuing to flirt with. I was just thinking about chewing tobacco and wondering "how can you put that in your MOUTH?" and then I was thinking "well, heck, if he can put THAT in his mouth he must be more than willing to go down." But who wants tobacco pussy?

And on that note... I'm going back to bed to think about tasting the hot guy....

Eek.

Ten pounds, I said. Yeah, well, turns out WHY. I gained weight after I moved from my last job. About ten pounds. That's what I get for being so much less active. Dammit.

Things are still going on. However, much of those things are SLEEP. I don't do hard work but my schedule is all messed up because of the hours I work. And next week we'll be flying cross country which is going to royally mess up my schedule. I'll be tired forever....

I bought a new sex toy which looks not all that much like a sex toy, which is cool. I might even take it on the trip with us. Just because. I'll share all about it sometime.

There's a guy who might actually have a crush on me at work. I kind of dig him, too. Except for the gross chewing tobacco thing. Blech. No thanks, dear.

However, I continue to find myself surrounded by really hot guys. I mean, seriously, there's this one who keeps coming in and I think "my god, why isn't he a famous sex symbol?!?" He's stunningly handsome with his sexy mix of boyish good looks, and manly handsomeness. He's tall, built... just everything you want in a movie star but don't see often enough. I mean, this guy's breathtaking. And he's walking into my store on a daily basis. It'd be like having... oh... a less nutty version of freakin' Brad Pitt walking into the store. (on a side note, Brad Pitt was NEVER attractive to me until recently... age has served him well).

Lots of fantasy fodder... nothing at all going on. Bleh.

Also, my fellow bloggers are dropping like flies and it depresses me. I'm still here. Just... soooo tired....

Ah, yes....

Finally, the sexual maturity post.

When I was a young pre-teen I discovered the pleasures of masturbation. Like many girls it was a miss and miss affair. I never came. However, I really enjoyed sticking various objects inside myself. I found a few stellar objects and used them to fuck myself regularly.

Despite all the sex-ed I'd gone through I still wasn't terribly familar with the clitoris OR it's function (and looking back I'm thinking they really didn't spend any time mentioning the FUNCTION in school). Therefore, I was more than a little irritated when I found this particular part of my body which was so super sensitive I couldn't touch it. At least, not without extreme discomfort and inexplicable twitching of my legs. I was fascinated by the twitching. I tormented my body trying to figure out this little spot which caused such an extreme reaction.

One day, I was masturbating with my thumb, my hand in a position where it was accidentally rubbing against the area where this oversensitive little nub was. I rocked against my thumb watching some porn on TV through the squiggles. And I nearly had an orgasm. I became aware of the sensation of the near orgasm and my complete surprised confused me. However, this soon led to my first orgasm and a better understanding of what the clitoris was. As I continued to torment my clit trying to figure out it's sensitivity I gradually became less sensitive on the sides (never the head) and it became a very important part of my masturbation.

A few years later, I was still tormented by the sensitivity of my clit. I was listening to Love Line and a caller asked the two hosts about the sensitivity of her clit. I think I was 16 or 17 at the time, whereas she was about 13 or so. Dr. Drew told her that the sensitivity wasn't particularly abnormal but that her hormones had not yet caught up with her body and that she should recognise that her body hadn't yet matured and she should wait for sexual activity until such a time.

Had I followed Drew's advice I wouldn't have had sex until I was 26 or 27!

Anyway, more recently I've discovered that the waning sensitivity I was noticing in the last year has finally come to fruition and my entire clitoris appears to be game for attention. I'm terribly excited by this prospect and have wanted to test it out to see if someone else has any chance of getting me to orgasm themselves... but husband's not been cooperative lately.

However, it appears that my body is finally becoming sexually mature, or something. Because the sensitivity is gone and this is cause for much celebration.

About Sexual Maturity and Sensitivity

Last night I meant to write an entry about something Dr. Drew once told someone on Love Line about sexual maturity and sensitivity. However, having watched an episode of Strictly Sex (which he hosts) I found myself completely distracted by my attraction to him. So much so that I titled the entry appropriately and then went on to forget what I was writing about.

Therefore, forthcoming will be an entry more appropriate to the title sexual maturity and sensitivity as it is a timely subject which I feel I should write about.

Sexual Maturity and Sensitivity

I have this crazy crush on Dr. Drew. Looking at him I am suddenly transported back to my teenage years when I had crushes on my teachers and whatever other hot, intelligent, masculine man happened to be around. Which is to say not very many. Between the rarity of these spectacular men and the intensity of teenage hormones when I wanted these men it was with incredible passion. This is how I feel about Dr. Drew. I want him with incredible passion.

Of course, this is tempered by the knowledge that he's unattainable... and the fact that I can never REALLY have him makes him sexier, too. Because he's married and he'd never cheat on his wife. That honor and honesty is sexy as hell, too.

Which isn't to say I'd respect him less if he were in another honest but OPEN situation... however, I respect and admire him for being a faithful, sexual being.

And oh my god is he so fucking sexy.

I want to LEARN that sex appeal. I want it. BAAAAAAD. Some one, teach me to be that sexy! Please!

Let's just say.

Let's just say I work in a convenience store. It's the most accurate portrayal you're going to get from me for the time being. Maybe ever. I didn't USED to. But for now, let's just say I do. Much of the customer base is hot young military boys, gate guards, that sort of thing. Thus, I am surrounded very often by hot young military guys.

The other day, I was helping a customer when another walked up to the counter, waiting in line to be served next. As the man I was helping was gathering up his merchandise, the porn ninja struck. The counter was empty. I glanced away. When I glanced back a Playboy was unfolding itself on the counter. He'd somehow managed to flip it up onto the counter like some kind of throwing stare, without actually PUTTING it on the counter. It was amazing, quick, mysterious. He was the porn ninja.

I rang him up and sent him on his way. I was in a bad mood, nothing to do with him. Hours later, I thought about it... and came up with the name Porn Ninja. And then laughed myself silly over it. I laughed so hard I cried.

I don't care that he bought porn. I encourage that sort of behavior, don't you know? But his ninja-like ways really got to me. He will always be the porn ninja to me.

A day later another man came into buy some "dirty, disgusting, gross" Skoal. Maybe it was Copenhagen. Whichever it was, I stared at him blankly as he described the tobacco product in the most unflattering terms he could think of without crossing over into the impolite trying to figure out what exactly he wanted. Finally, telling me the name of the product I gave it to him and rang it up. Afterward, he said "ah, you should have said 'no'! But we all do things we don't want to do, you know." I stared at him still utterly confused by his behavior before telling him, "I really don't care what you buy... I'm not here to judge, you know?" He laughed at that half heartedly leaving, before turning quickly toward the magazine section "then I should go buy some porn!" I tried to smile, still at a loss as to how to react, "...okay." I said, shaking my head slightly trying to convey that I really didn't care one way or the other. And then he left, having not really meant it about the porn.

I went home after that and had to ask husband "do I SEEM so straight laced? Do I seem SO completely pure and like... matronly that I would CARE if someone bought porn? Do they not realize what a porn hound I am? I mean, not compared to you but... is that what I give off?!?"

So now I'm thinking I totally give off the WRONG vibe. Maybe I need to start wearing black lipstick and playboy bunny shirts. Because, god damn it. I can out sex most of those boys... and would love to prove it....

Bleh

I have a headache. I think I'm getting sick.

However, I do have a few stories to tell. Namely about the porn ninja and the sad attempt at flirting I did with the man....

But for now.. I have a headache.

Drooling.

Yesterday a man came into my work. He was maybe 20 or 25, tanned skin (not too tan), sandy blonde hair cut short, t-shirt, pants, and of course... he was built. I looked him over passingly, appreciative but not stunned. Later, he picked up the things he came in with and carried them out of the building. I gazed at him as he left, taking in the view but my eyes were immediately caught on the firm, tan, skin of his arm, stretched beautifully over muscle.

I think I must have made a noise, a catch of breath, something. I became momentarily aware of the obviousness my reaction and thought "wow, I gotta be careful of that." And then spent a moment of mental bliss as my hormones made my body warm and tingly.

I love that it's little, unexpected things that turn me on.

Final Semenex Post

I mentioned on another blog that I felt like I needed to re-write my final semenex post. The most recent reason being that I am currently ranked on Google about #16 out of about three thousand sites that mention the product and am receiving an increasingly large amount of traffic looking for information. Unfortunately, google is directing them to a page which merely mentions my interest in the product. By making this post I will be able to go back and edit that post to direct them to this one. Get it? Good.

So, my final opinion on the product is that it doesn't work. At least, not for Husband. And certainly not for ME (which is really the idea, isn't it?). In order to better appreciate the entire subject, let me expand upon the experiment.

Namely, husband began taking the suppliment on Tuesday night. I was with him while we made sure to measure out the exact amount specified, he mixed it with a spoon, leaving a lumpy mess and gagged it down. He *really* did NOT like the taste. I let him finish it off and then added some water to get the dregs to assuage my curiosity and found it to be okay. I certainly didn't find it gag-worthy, nor was it something to go on and on about. It smells really good, though.

The next night, I decided to take things into my own hands to see if I could at least improve the texture of the mix. I put it in a small plastic ware container with some water and shook it vigorously for a minute before offering it to husband. The texture was vastly improved, but of course it was the same ingredients so husband bitched some more but sucked it down, knowing what was coming.

At this point getting husband hard was easier than ever as he constantly had sex on his mind. This is a positive part of the experiment, something I greatly appreciated and was consistantly amused by. This alone was almost worth the cost of the product, really.

The third night, I once again mixed up husband's potion and he took it. "If this works, I'll learn to love the taste" he told me.

The fourth night was the same proceedure. However, I discovered the 5 serving containter only actually contained 4 servings. I don't hold this against the company. However, it makes their guarantee a little more suspect (gotta read the fine print). However, should someone doubt my measuring ability and exclaim that I must have give husband too much with each serving... well, that certainly wouldn't make it LESS effective, now would it? Also, I never had any intention of taking advantage of the guarantee and therefore wasn't concerned about making sure to save any particular amount of the product. Anyone doubting my results, however,who might feel the need to try it themselves planning to take advantage of the guarantee ought to be aware of my experience with the servings.

The fifth day (roughly 14 hours after his final dose) I took husband up to the bedroom and completed the experiment with a taste test. My hopes were high. However, they were quickly dashed as my mouth was filled with his familar bitter flavor. There was no hint of any "sweetness." However, I fully admit I did NOT roll his cum around in my mouth to get the full effect. I don't believe that should have been neccessary, though.

The experiment was great fun, but I left the situation with... well... a bitter taste in my mouth.

The site does claim that semenex may not actually work for everyone... so maybe we were unlucky.

Further information: husband is not on any drugs, alcohol, or nicotine, nor is he taking any suppliments or medications. He is not on a special diet and does not eat any pungent or strange foods. He was not sick. Semenex was consumed in intervals of slightly less than 24 hours. He masturbated regularly during the experiment, except the day of the taste test. And lastly, I'm familiar with the flavor of cum, specifically husbands, and find his to be no more or less bitter than that of any of my previous lovers (barring one particular guy who claimed not to know what caused his own spunk to be sweet).

End notes (aka covering my ass): I do not accept reviews of products from magazines, or people I don't know anything about. Please take any comments extolling the virtues of the product and their surprise at my disappointment with the same grain of salt I do, as they have never left a reputable way of contacting them or direction to an established non-commercial site. I do not claim that the product does not work at all, only that my experience with it showed that it didn't work for us, and I wouldn't recommend it. Please make your own decisions.

Hot and bothered.

The picture in my last post is driving me to distraction. Let me 'splain.

I've got this thing. It's a bit of a... oh... one could call it a fetish but I think it's more just an insistant preference. I have this THING for men's shoulders. I guess like some men are breast men, some leg... some... well... whatever... and some women are butt women and some women are... umm... what else are women known for looking at? Well, I'm into shoulders. Broad, masculine shoulders.

While in junior high I developed this prefence. Or at least, that's when I became aware of it. I think I was in seventh grade. There was a boy who was in ninth grade who rode the same school bus as I did, waited at the same bus stop. As with all good school children, the seven or so of us who waited there would all get in a nice straight line and wait for the bus to arrive. Being the punctual (and afraid of missing the bus) kind of girl I am, I was often the first person in line and thus was able to concentrate all my efforts on watching for the school bus... but not just ANY school bus... the right one. God forbid the person in the front get everyone's hopes up by picking up their bag for the wrong bus. But that's another story.

One day, I was later than usual. The majority of the line was already formed. I ended up standing behind the ninth grader. The ninth grader who looked like a high schooler... with his already masculinizing features, increased height, and distractingly perfect shoulders. I spend the better part of the next ten or so minutes eyeing the curve of his shoulders, the shape of his shoulder blades... and getting very, very turned on.

Of course, after that I occasionally made the effort to be a little bit later to the bus, but generally my fear over missing the bus far outweighed my desire to get a little titlation. It never really happened again that way, anyway. He never wore a shirt as thin, never managed to be so close to me... but it's stayed with me all these years.

Thinking about that boy, again, I was reminded of my first (and subsequent) viewings of Dirty Dancing. I never really had a crush on Patrick Swayze but that scene... as they're dancing... seducing one another... she takes off his shirt and moves around behind him, tracing his shoulders as she moved around him. Maybe she bit him, tasting the muscular flesh. Maybe it's my fantasy that she did.

Whatever the case, both stay in my memory as deliciously erotic experiences.

Despite what I've heard over and over again... men's bodies are worthy of the same lavish attention as women's. They're beautiful, sexy, and sensual... especially their shoulders.

Eyes to the floor.

It occured to me today that I spend most of my day looking at stuff. And paperwork. Not so much people. I deal with a fairly large number of people over a day and it occured to me, that despite the politeness of these particular people and my overall comfort with them, I still don't look people in the eye.

A young marine came in and asked me a question. I stared blankly at what he was holding and requested assistance from my manager who was better able to answer his question. The fact that I had to get assistance sort of forced me to look directly at him... and he was all things beautiful. Beautiful men please me. Also, he was ill which lent a slightly flushed quality to his face and extra brightness to his eyes. And I wanted to take him home to mother him... and then be thanked in that special naked way only beautiful naked marines know how. I assume. Because I've never actually slept with a marine of any sort, beautiful, naked, or otherwise.

Later on it occured to me that I was doing it again. In the middle of assisting a young seaman it occured to me that I hadn't looked at him yet. I forced myself to look up at him the next time I spoke and discovered he was looking at me. His gaze flicked quickly away and I thought "huh... was he actually... looking at me... for... a reason?!?" So then I was slightly pleased with myself. Because I'm easily pleased some days.

Grr.

I spent the earliest part of my morning wandering around trying to figure out how to get from the closed part of the military installation to the even MORE closed part of the military installation where the "rest" of my new job is. You see, unlike in the REAL world when I go to work, now, I have to go through not ONE but TWO military check points.

Except prior to today I've never had to go through the second one. The fun part is, it's really freaking hard to get in there. First I had to submit all of my information to someone who submitted it to someone else who then told me I could go into the area... for now. But I had to go through the visitor's center. But I get to guess which of the TWO I'm supposed to go to... and then guess what to do when I get there. That was fun.

I ended up hitting the wrong gate (NOT a visitor's center at all) and had to turn around... and then they took my driver's license to... well... I never did ask what they did with it. But the guy who took it for a bit drove up in a way cool black humvee with flashing lights. I want one. All that for going to the wrong gate. Nevermind that I knew WELL in advance it was the wrong gate... but there's no turn around so even though you see your doom coming... there's no hope for it.

I was directed to the CORRECT visitor's center, then. Everyone was in a line waiting to go through, so when everyone stopped, I stopped. The people in front of and behind me opened their cars... so I opened mine. I watched the dog sniff my car and move on. Everyone showed their IDs, so I quickly grabbed mine and showed it, too. Then everyone pulled out... so I pulled out too... oops. Wrong way. Wrong way again. And again. And then as I FINALLY figured out where I was going, I was told "oh, but you have to go INSIDE the building, now, too!" Oh. Thanks for ANYONE telling me.

After about a half hour there, I was directed to get my finger prints taken. No crimes for me anymore, I'd be caught. Dammit. "Thanks, and have a nice day" I was told. I stared blankly... "but... what do I do now?" "You can go." "but... I didn't get a badge..." "you don't need one." "But..." "Have a nice day." Right.....

So off to work I went. And now, I'm home. And I get to go through it all again tomorrow. Hopefully this time it'll be much smoother... unless I decide to hide some tasty doggy treats in my car. Just to make it more interesting....

Oh, and the guy who drove the black humvee? Way too cute. Way. In fact, there was no shortage of cuties today....

Pretending.

Pretending I didn't just make that previous post questioning my decision to make any part of myself public... I wanted to test out how this turns out online. The answer being... verrrrrrrrry small.

Inevitably.

I tend to do stupid things. Among them, I tend to manage to link my anonymous blogs and diaries to some sort of "real" part of my life. Something which could give me away. What would happen if I was given away? Near as I can tell, nothing.

I'm considering giving myself up. Oh, not completely. But I am thinking about admitting what it is I do for a living. It would make it a lot easier to talk about my job.

Like the super hot, built, asian guy who came into my work today. Chewing tobacco. Umm.

The other example of my poor choice to link this blog to any other part of my real life is the guy who came into my work today. I walked past him. I walked past him again. The second time, he called to me. I turned around. "Do you live on base?" he asked me. I nodded, expecting to hear that he is my neighbor. I was about to be pleased that I had a polite neighbor. However, he followed this up with "are you on 'sitenamehere'.com?" My shock was momentary before I smiled, somewhat embarassed at having been caught, "wow... uh... yeah." He smiled, "I thought so. I waited for a long time for you to get a picture up." Or something like that. It didn't immediately give me the creeps. Thinking about it now, though, it kind of does. Because I put up a picture something like 6 months ago....

I essentially left the scene of the crime as quickly and shyly as I could. Chances are if I hadn't responded to him online I wasn't interested... or if I had... it was probably did not go very well since I've only come across two worthwhile potential men on this site.

The end of this story would be that it would be entirely possible he could be reading this right now. And wouldn't THAT be extra embarassing, eh?