Stolen Meme..

I stole this from Margaritaville.

The goal is to take the first sentence from the first entry of each month for the year and post it again. It's the lazy woman's new years eve wrap up..... Oh, and I cheated at least once by using two sentences.

January:
I'd like to send a shout out to Kathy of http://kathysaffair.blogspot.com/ for linking to me (and I notice a lot of other people, but most importantly she linked to ME).

February:
I'm tired and have a lovely headache.

March:
It's fairly clear to me that I'm slowly becoming a bit of a kinkster.

April:
I'm spending much time in contemplation of God of War... so much so that my forearms are somewhat sore.

May:
I'm one of those people who likes to think.

June:
Yeah, okay. So I don't care for the song but somehow it sticks in my head.

July:
I have this obsession with zombies.

August:
I tend to do stupid things.

September:
Two week vacation starts today.

October:
Last night I got some wicked cramps.

November:
There's this guy. (Isn't there always this guy?) This customer. And I lust after him.

December:
I went to jury duty today.

Want Two?

Earlier I posted about how I really should just up and tell Nils that I want him. That I think he's the hottest thing I've seen in years and I crave his nakedness. That I should tell him to take it completely off the record and not hold it against me.

And I was thinking. Today was the PERFECT chance for me to have done that. And I didn't.

I'm retarded.

Joke

I ended up mopping for a while today. And as I mopped I thought "aye... I'm swabbin' the decks!" And then I thought of a joke someone told me a few years ago. "Why are pirate jokes so funny?" "They just AAAAAAARRRRRR!" And I started laughing hysterically as I mopped. So I went on to tell the jokes throughout the day.

When Nils came in I was thrilled. Except... sometime in the last couple of weeks when I've only seen him in his ski mask he grew a mustache. Which shocked me. And turned me off. Until I started considering it. The guy's sexy as hell. And if he wants to grow facial hair... well... all I could think was how DIFFERENT it would feel against my thighs.... So then, while I think he's way hotter without it, I couldn't help but enjoy the idea of him WITH it....

Of course, I'm still sick. I still look vaguely crappy. My voice is husky to the point of being masculine. I just don't look or feel the way I WANT to when he's around. But I ended up helping him anyway. Trying to find excuses to be near him. And maybe there was a little of that from him, too....

I ended up ringing him up as my coworker went out to another part of the store to do something. Well out of hearing range. I told him my joke. "...are you serious?" He asked blankly as I asked the set up question. I smiled "Of course I'm serious. No, it's a joke." "Ah... why?" "Because they just AAAAAAAAAAARRRRR" I told him and cracked myself up, yet again.

He smiled politely and I gazed longingly at him as he said "okay... I've got one. But... well... you know some people you can ask if they get offended and they'll say they won't and then they DO... but I figure you and I have talked... and you SEEM like someone who won't get offended so if I DO offend you let me know and I'll NEVER talk to you again...." I nearly burst out "I want to fuck your brains out. Now who's offended?" But kept my mouth politely shut, merely nodding my agreement.

He went on to ruin a perfectly funny joke. So here it is, better:
man walks in with a sheep under his arm, looks at his wife and says "this is the pig I've been having sex with".
His wife says, " That's not a pig, it's a sheep."
The man says, "I was talking to the sheep, not you."

I laughed and thought it was cute... but I was looking for a play on the word "ewe" for some reason. *sigh* I over think things. Anyway, he then went on to add "if we were say... in a bar... and not here... at your work... and I wasn't at work... and wasn't a police officer... and you weren't a lady... I would have maybe used different wording...." I gazed at him blankly and he explained where he'd changed the line from "fucking" to "having sex with" and I laughed at him. "Because I take that stuff SO seriously," I told him.

But I was thinking about meeting him in a bar somewhere. Somewhere no one knows either of us... and what it would be like to sit next to him on a stool, leaning close to talk. As he was talking I never once stopped gazing into his beautiful eyes... and imagining....

For some reason, and I think it was BEFORE this part of the conversation, we were talking about drinking and he told me "I NEVER drink water... stuff's bad for you. You never know what's in it" as he bought his sugar-free energy drink. I smiled at that as he added "just lots of hard liquor and beer. Liquor and beer."

Which then brought me to wondering not just what it would be like to go out with him... but also to get him drunk. What kind of stories would he tell? What kind of banter would we have? And how would he fuck?

I'm still obsessed with him. I still adore his self control. I find him incredibly sexy. But now I think maybe he's a boyscout. A really fucking sexy boyscout. I'd like him to practice his knots on me....

Metal.

I have a metal barbell with little metal ends in my tongue. I'm used to being able to idly chew on the plastic ends. I keep having visions of intentionally biting down (hard) on the metal (like I never did with the plastic) and shattering a tooth. That's not a very nice thought. I'll have to change it out.

Although I must say. There is something incredibly sexy about a person (okay the man I saw) who had a simple metal stud in his tongue. He wasn't playing with it. He wasn't trying to draw attention to it. It spoke for itself. And it was way hot. I want to be hot in that way, too. Except I'm so not. Usually.

I remain sick. In fact I can't believe how sick I still was yesterday. Not that I'm suddenly little miss health or anything... but I'm markedly better. And just because I said that I'm sure to backslide. I have that great hacking cough and a nice runny nose (with sinus pain). So fuckin' sexy. I still kind of want to die to make the sick end. But I'll work on making it through the day.....

Oh Delightful

I'm still sick. I hate this. Based on my symptoms I'm probably going to hold onto this illness for a good long time. With a nice hacking cough. I love hacking coughs. They're so fucking HOT.

Meanwhile, I'll probably get to see Nils tomorrow. I'm thrilled about that. But not when I'm sick. And I am still sick. Running a mild fever off and on. I'm miserable. Utterly miserable.

I still haven't heard from Keith. You'd think I'd stop caring. But I do still care. It's gradually growing to be less important though, thankfully. Somewhat....

The Call of...

masturbation. I'm sick. But, I'm still horny. I still want to fuck. But I'm just not up to it. But laying on my back with a book in one hand and my clit in the other? Not too hard to pull off.

I'm tired. Medicated. Nyquil is my new bestest friend. And my orgasms are stunning. They leave me dizzy in their midst. I can literally feel my head and the room spin as I cum. And I lay there afterward in a heavy, dream-like space, breathing hard utterly relaxed.

Sick.

I'm so sick right now. I took an advil cold and sinus so I wouldn't feel completely miserable and then we went to the store to stock up on various other cold remedies and some dinner for husband.

I got dressed, grabbed the car keys, checked on my wallet and cell phone and headed out with husband. As we went through the checkout stand I realised I didn't have my wallet. It's not unheard of for my wallet to go leaping out of my pocket so I was a little concered. This is exactly how I lost my wallet just before having to fly to my FIL's funeral.

So, I went back out to the car and looked for it. But I couldn't find it. Further searches showed that I had my military ID in the car and my debit card loose in my back pocket. I decided not to freak out. At home I looked for my wallet again. And found it. In my purse. Where I'd looked at it previously. And promptly forgotten it.

Being sick makes me stupid.

Unreciprocated.

One of the things that starting to irritate me about sleeping with Martin is that much as the sex used to be great and was everything I wanted... he's stopped giving me head. At all. He's not making motions toward it, he's barely even touching me. He's fallen prey to the mistaken belief that since he can't make me cum... he might as well not even try. Which is not just great.

I feel like I should have a conversation with him about it. But what the fuck conversation do I need to have with my lover on the side which says "hey, you're not really trying anymore and it's pissing me off." He's supposed to be my LOVER. Not my HUSBAND. And it makes me mad.

Last time husband and I engaged in any sort of sexual play he actually did an amazingly better job than Martin has done lately. And it irritates me. Because Martin's like... JOB... is to please me. Husband's job is to ignore MY needs in favor of his. So, yeah. The reversal doesn't amuse me. Especially since Martin has been available while husband remains sexually reticent as ever.

So, yeah. Here I am. Irritated with Martin. Irritated with husband. And absolutely irritated with the various men who contact me via the sex site I've joined. I'm not sure why I think that the men I'm likely to meet on a sex site are supposed to be actually... you know... good in bed and sexy... but god damn it. Keith was both of those things. I want another Keith. Only this one much more local.

I haven't heard from Keith this week at all. I ought to get over him. The distance and being ignored certainly helps with that. He's clearly no prince to ignore me the way he's doing. And yet... well... he wasn't the first thing I thought of this morning. Or even throughout the day. This is an improvement.

Also... Im still sick. And bitter. And I work tomorrow. I won't get to see Nils because he should be off work. No Cade, either. Which leaves me with Wade, maybe. And getting to tell him I had a dream about him. Maybe. Maybe I'll tell him....

So tired...

I went and saw Martin tonight. I think we spent about three hours together. It seemed like far less. I felt closer to him tonight. The sex was good.

Unfortunately, my throat is feeling sore. I feel run down. I think I may be coming down with something. It's entirely possible I was generous enough to share it with Martin. The worst part being if Martin catches what I have he has to stay away from his real girlfriend due to some health issue she currently has. So I feel crappy because I was starting to wonder if I had something and it was only after sleeping with him that I really thought "no, seriously... I might be getting sick." Or maybe I'm just allergic (no excuse me, sensitive) to cum.

No, I'm probably getting sick. That sucks.

I still miss Keith.

Dream

I had a dream about Wade last night. I'm not sure why. We were in the store. The store had a big bed behind a display. I was laying on it and he joined me and we ended up kissing a lot. Things were getting surprisingly hot and heavy. I hadn't expected Wade to be quite so good with his mouth and hands. I was really starting to want him badly.

And then my co-worker called to me and told me "you can't CHEAT on your husband." I leaned into Wade's ear and told him about my marriage but kind of gestured toward my coworker telling him we need to stop, at least in front of her. He told me we should get together at his hotel room which was nearby, and left leaving me to think of the intimacy of his kisses and caresses.

I'm not going to be looking at Wade the same way next time I see him....

Plans

I messaged Martin that I wanted to see him tomorrow. He told me that I could have him for the evening. Oh, delight. Hours of his company. Tomorrow certainly has some potential.

I heard from Keith, too. Only breifly. He was on his way to work, the day after Christmas since they're hours ahead. "I didn't get what I wanted" for christmas, he told me. I didn't get to ask him what it was he wanted. I like to think it was me....

I didn't get what I wanted, either. Keith was high on my list. I woke up thinking about him. I lay in bed and fingered my gspot and clit bringing myself to the edge of orgasm several times before stopping. I didn't want to cum. I wanted Keith. I had the most amazing shower, too. Hot and relaxing. I love feeling the heated water streaking down my skin in rivlets like my lover's fingers. I thought of Keith. We never showered together. But I would have liked to.

The day has come and is almost gone now. Keith is at work. Martin has gone to bed. Husband, too.

I got a new Emma Holly book. More hot bi-male threesome action. Exactly what I like. I masturbated to it, giving myself the orgasm I'd been waiting all day for. It was well worth the wait.

I wonder if I'll wake up with thoughts of Keith again, tomorrow?

Last time...

Occasionally there are details of my sex life that I hold back. Recent posts about my encounters which are quickly followed up with somewhat more detailed posts about the same incident should make that clear. Sometimes in my excitement to get through the story I fail to mention the details. I could probably go on at length making an evening's sexual play take a whole evening to read as I disect each touch and how it made me feel.

I was also reflecting on a relatively recent entry in PussyTalk in which our author informs us that while she found that being spanked is as sexy and erotic as she'd hoped... having discovered that her lover was doing it for the "wrong" reasons she was finding the entire situation to be less erotic.

I met Martin in the kitchen and he took me in his arms. His lips found mine and we kissed. Martin has very sexual, sensual lips and he's very good at teasing and tempting me with his tongue. As we broke apart my mind was immediately overwhelmed with images of our first night together, standing in the same place. I smiled up at him and said "ah, I seem to remember this place...."

He glanced around for a second, looking vaguely confused and then his eyes snapped back to mine. "Oh, DO you? You mean like..." and he pushed me back against the wall and began to kiss me again, just like the first time. Which actually caught me off guard because I was merely commenting on the familiarity not looking for a duplication. And then it disappointed me because it seemed so obvious that he was doing this in a misguided attempt to please me and not really for BOTH of us or even for his OWN pleasure.

I can't really even begin to describe what it was that I didn't like about the situation. But there was certainly something that held me back and took me away from what should have been a very pleasurable moment. And all I can do is reflect on that post on PussyTalk and think "...that's just it...."

Crap.

The thing is... I hate working at that store. Not MY store. Oh, no. I love working at my store. I like less working at the other store which is technically my store. But I HATE working at THAT store. That OTHER store. Where I used to work. Oh lord god do I hate it. And I'm on loaner to them for Christmas Eve and of course earlier today.

There is NOTHING less sexy than listening to a senior citizen whine like a five year old over something I have no control over. And then have him get bitchy when I apologize for his inconvenience which was never my fault in the first place. I wanted to kick him.

Sexy day it was NOT. I missed out on seeing Nils who is so much my reason for going to work some days. I even made a special trip to my store just in case I might run into him. But I never did. And it's sad.

Meanwhile, I haven't heard from Keith. The last I heard from him was that he was back home in his foreign country and "back in reality." So maybe he's already been able to acknowledge the pleasure we had together was something more of a "vacation" romance. Myself... I'm not there yet. I still miss and crave him.

I fear some part of me always will. And I'll never experience anything quite like it ever again. I've long maintained that love is different every time, and each time something about it is unique and memorable. So forgetting him? Probably not. But hopefully I can stop being vaguely obsessed.

Nils could help with that....

No one to tell.

I'm going to say it now. What I haven't really said to anyone. Not this honestly.

I'm in love with Keith. Two nights. A couple of short conversations. And I'm in love.

Yes, I know. It's not real love. What kind of love can develop over the course of two nights? We had conversations and they flowed. We know something about one another. But not enough. And yet. Here I sit. In love with him. He's my first thought in the morning, now. And I think of him often during the day.

I know it will fade. I know things will go back to normal. My desire for Keith certainly doesn't mean I don't desire other men. But my desire for them has a certain pallor, now. I crave Nils and even Sam... but some of it is habit. I'm used to wanting them. But I feel like I could put it aside so easily. And let my love for Keith flow over me, filling me to the brim. No room for more.

The other night I came with husband, Keith was who I was thinking of. Keith with his adventurous tongue and strong hands. I came with Keith, really, husband was just an instrument to give physicality to my dreams.

I know it'll fade. I tell myself to stop basking in the fantasy and recognize that no one is perfect. That no man will ever be EXACTLY what I'm looking for. That the grass is always greener and always will be. He invited me to come to him, several times. Maybe he didn't mean it. It's just pillow talk. But the words have stuck.

It's easy to say that if I were single I'd be there with him now. A grand adventure. But in truth, I'd probably stay quietly here, pining just as I am now, for a love I cannot have.

I also know that much as I desire to be with him, I could never do it as the unwhole person I am now. I told him I couldn't leave husband to be with him. I also told him he shouldn't want me to, because what kind of person would DO that? I can't see myself going to be with Keith with less than a completely clear conscience that my current relationship holds nothing for me. And I'm not there. Not even kind of.

And so I sit here, trying to mend things with Husband. Trying to make our marriage be something I can comfortably and confidently live with. But back behind all that is a desire to make it fail. To make good solid reasons for things to end between us.

The frustrating part being that the dark part of me is the very reason I can't leave. Because so long as it's there, I will always know that I was the ultimate reason for our failure.

tongue 

I love this photo. I really love the way the blue of my ball plays against the pink of my lips and tongue. And I absolutely adore how well this photo works against my blog's background. Damn. I love this photo.

Whatever may be...

Today the Greek god came to visit again. Well, shop, I suppose. I ended up having a long talk with him about his job and his last job and all that. He's really quite cute. Just before he came in another customer came in. So after I talked to the Greek god for a while he wandered to another part of the store and the first customer approached. "Is that your boyfriend?" He asked. I glanced over at the Greek god and very nearly answered "no, but he should be!" but instead said "...no. I'm married." I began ringing up his purchases and he said something about the fact that "well, I guess since you're HAPPILY married I won't say anything... cuz I was going to say something." I didn't respond at all. It was very odd.

But it got me to thinking about the Greek god in a way I maybe shouldn't bother. He does have a wedding ring, after all.

It was odd having a guy come on to me. Or even try. But it was nice to be able to kind of shut him down without being super rude about it, either. Thank god.

No sign of Nils today (which I knew was going to be the case). Also no sign of Sam. AGAIN. And since I don't work tomorrow and open Friday I won't get to see Sam until at LEAST next week. What kind of shit is THAT, I say? As for Nils... I'm not convinced I'll see him, either. Dammit. I'm terribly sad.

The low point of the day was husband telling me that, basically, he may get kicked out of the military in as few as 4 months because he's going to refuse to reenlist which means refusing his next assignment and the penalty for refusal is removal. So. Yeah. I'm not thrilled. But whatever will be will be....

Evening Delight.

Last night husband went to bed very late. Thinking I might want to get up early in the morning and workout (I didn't) I decided to join him. I left the dogs downstairs (and they didn't follow for once) and brushed my teeth before snuggling up with husband.

We lay and talked about goofy things for a while and I inhaled his scent. I couldn't help but think about my time with Keith. And with Martin. And how different things are when I'm with them than they are when I'm with husband. Every so often I "experiment" on people to see how they react to different things. The fact that every man I've been with of late has enjoyed the whole "cuddling" thing has caused me to become quite the affectionate cuddler. Perhaps above and beyond what is called for... but it feels so good and makes them so happy.

So, with husband there against me I began doing exactly what I do to them. Generally post-sex, but occasionally as my not so subtle way of waking them up to please me. I pressed kisses along his neck and chest, letting my tongue slip over his flesh and kissing away the wetness. My hands began to caress him, wandering over his chest, stomach, and thighs. He lay back, not commenting, not reacting. However, it felt nice to touch him like that so I continued.

Eventually, my arm brushed up against his raging erection. I was caught off guard. I felt the cold streak of his precum against my forearm and it gave me pause. I continued to tease and torment him, letting my fingers tickle over his balls before taking his cock in hand. I jacked it slowly up and down in the manner that he prefers (although he prefers faster this wasn't about getting him off). Eventually, I kissed him on the mouth. He was responsive. "Goodnight," I said, and rolled over honestly prepared to go to sleep. We've played out this scenario before.

Except he followed me across the bed, rubbing his cock against my ass. His hands began to wander over my flesh, tweaking my nipples, and his lips and tongue began teasing my ears and neck. He played my body masterfully. It was amazing, I was panting for him, moaning involuntarily. His fingers began their decent but he never actually touched my pussy. I arched to try to meet his fingers but he denied me. "Tell me what you want," he said softly in my ear. I moaned against his breath and said "please... touch me...." He licked my ear again, eliciting another moan. "You don't seem like you mean it." I tried to pleade harder and he began a sensual exploration of my pussy.

Husband has magic hands sometimes. He's the ONLY man I've ever known who really GETS that he can't just attack my clit. With other women I'm sure that's great. For me it's a form of torture. Over the years he's learned that he really just has to go the round-about way of touching it... which is to say to almost but not quite do it. Finally his fingers settled nicely into a rhythm not touching me the way I'd touch myself... but also doing something similar to what I'm trying to teach my body to get off to. Thinking about the way he touched me last night makes my clit swell and pulse. Then he whispered into my ear that he loved me. This would be the point in the romance novel where I should have had my first earth shattering orgasm giving to me by the man I love.

Unfortunately, I just wasn't getting there so I pushed him off and followed him to take his cock into my mouth, wrapping my hand around the base. I sucked and jerked his cock for a few minutes before giving up with my mouth for fear of wounding him with teeth. However, I kept my hand going and within minutes he had a tremendous orgasm.

I jumped up and got him something to clean off with and then returned to snuggle in bed. I began masturbating and he watched me for a second before snuggling up to me his breath in my ear and his hand grasping my breast firmly. I could feel myself getting close from just that bit of contact. "I am I helping or hindering?" he asked softly. "Helping," I said. It wasn't more than a minute after that than I had an orgasm myself.

Afterward, we lay together for a while enjoying the afterglow and complimenting one another on our prowess. And then I cried for a minute because I'd needed to have him touch me like that so bad. And because over the years he's become a really amazing lover when he wants to be and it's incredible to me how really good he's become... and that he denies me those touches so often. Then I called the dogs to bed and we all fell asleep, contented.

Want.

I was just thinking maybe at some point I should tell Nils that I want to say something to him completely off the record. Something he must not hold against me... and then really let him know how much I fucking want him. Not hold anything back. Just... say it. Lay it on the table. And really let him know what he does to me.

I envisioned the scenario. And the scenario had a certain sense of deja vu. Like I'd actually done it before. Or dreamed about it years ago. Were I the sort that believed in psychic stuff I'd be sure I'd had a premonition of this actually happening. Instead, I'll just have to believe I've considered this... maybe done it in a dream.

I want Nils. Crave him. He should know.

So now...

Nils came in. He's so fucking hot. I was shaking and I had to laugh at myself that I can feel otherwise completely normal but my body still reacts the way it does, even when I have a good distraction. I adore that man. Conversation was kept to a minimum. I want him.

No sign of Sam, unfortunately. The thing with Sam is that I anticipate (and must prepare) for his arrival in advance of his actually getting there. What with the coffee and all. So I spent about two hours waiting for him... to not show up. Breaks my heart. But mostly I understand. I mean, it's a store after all. Not the OdalisueK emporium of longing.

Then the Greek God came in. He's very friendly. I'm not sure what his deal is, though. I'm fairly certain I've seen a ring on his finger. I'm reasonably sure he's taken. So why he looks at me the way he does... why he's so super friendly.. well... I just don't know. Whatever the case may be, he was leaning over the counter toward me, making direct eye contact, smiling just a bit too much. I'm not really sure what to make of him. He's hot in a non-traditional way. I dig him. I just don't know what to make of him. And if I'm honest... I don't really lust after him. I should... but I don't. Not right now anyway.

Then there's the two striper. I shouldn't be looking at him with lust. But there's something about him that I find sexy. That masculinity that I adore. The friendliness. I want him. But not enough to act on it. He's no Sam or Nils, for sure....

Pants

Ever since Sam came in the other day I've been thinking about pants. Sam was wearing jeans a few days ago. I think I might have mentioned in passing but I need to go back to that. Because it was important.

Sam. Wore. Jeans. And it was HOT. I was viewing him from about a 45 degree angle from behind and I thought "oh...my god... his beautiful ass!" I had no idea I was SUCH an ass woman. His is firm and well shaped. It's a beautiful thing to behold and there's just something about jeans that really shows it off. Jeans are perhaps the one type of men's pants that ANY man can wear and when chosen correctly are allowed to hug the curves of a man's body without making him look girly.

So having seen Sam in his jeans, with his perfect ass (and sexily broad shoulders which is also my downfall), I'm checking out other men's asses. And there are so few that are really great. I know that physically I'm no amazing specimin but I can still look and pass judgement, thank you. Sam's is perfection, really. Talk about just wanting to bite into that ripe apple....

So then I read Second Order Approximation (as can be found in the blogroll) and he mentions leather pants. And now my brain is going crazy envisioning Sam in leather pants.

Hot.

Whatta day...

I'm trying hard not to be too subtle with my crushes. Because, well... it can only hurt to be rejected, right?

So Nils came in. Delightfully sexy as always. And unexpectedly early. By about an hour. He threw me off with that. I didn't care for that one bit. As I started work I stopped by our sister store to pick up some merchandise that needed to go to my store. And I saw cans of his favorite drink sitting there, innocent and alone. We're out of his favorite drink at our store. So I asked the manager if I could transfer 1/2 a case. She agreed and I took it with me. So Nils came in to get his drink and some cough drops. Apparently he has a "sinus thing" which somehow is helped by the cough drops. Those Halls of medicine.... My thought was "oh, yes, Frank used to have terrible sinus problems. Makes it really hard to go down....

So as he was leaving I told him "you know, I got those from another store just for you." He looked at me blankly than asked whether I meant the drink. "Yes, I transfered them from the other store just for you." "Then I owe you," he said. "I know you do!" I laughed as he left.

MP came in and even though I'm so totally not into him anymore I couldn't resist thinking "I know what he looks like naked. I've seen his cock...." And then I started giggling to myself and blushing. And he stayed for at least ten minutes RIGHT IN MY LINE OF SITE so I then I couldn't STOP thinking about it. And blushing. I could barely speak!

Cade came in, too. He's pretty sexy in that young, shy-ish vanilla man sort of way. I've started to look forward to seeing him on the days he works. Unfortunately very few of them are the same days *I* work.

Husband came in and I invited him into the backroom to talk to me while I was working and he kissed me and made a suggestion that I should put up the "back in five minutes" sign and have some fun with him. Except there were people in the store and I'd have had to kick them out which wouldn't have gone over well. So he went off to do what it is he does.

While he was gone Sam came in. And of course I started melting. Sam really is the sweetest sounding man I've met in a long time. Such a sexy mix of masculine and boyish.... Husband came in shortly after Sam did so I had to chase down husband and tell him who Sam was... because he's curious about the men I talk about. He wasn't terribly impressed, but I can't help but think husband's determined to think any man I want to fuck is just sort of average. Even though Sam is quite the sort of man husband looks at and thinks "I wanna look like him!" normally. Maybe not exactly... but pretty much. So whatever.

Sam stayed for at least ten minutes after husband left, talking to me. I couldn't stop watching him drink his coffee and lick his lips. We talked for a while and I just can't stop being STUPID around men like him. It's like my brain just gives up. So my conversation became more forced and more rambling. But it was just so god damned nice to talk to him. I eventually said something like "well, it always helps when my FAVORITE customers come in," giving him a significant look.

God damn do I want to get that man naked. So many men I want to get naked. So few will actually do it for me....

If you believe in fate...

I ended up getting invited over to Martins. I almost didn't go. I knew exactly what was going to happen and I wasn't convinced it'd be worth it. Still... I went. As I drove over I couldn't help but think "this is for him... it's not even about me, tonight." He'd invited me over but told me he really needed to be in bed by 11 which was going to be no more than about an hour after I arrived.

Of course I was right. We really did concentrate on him. Whether he's decided going down on me just isn't worth it or he's waiting for me to ask... he's pretty much given up THAT ghost. However, before we get to that part... we were on the couch and he was touching me and we were kissing and it was great. Finally, he moved back and got his cock out. He's not very subtle that he wants me to suck it... and I'm still more than willing to oblige so I moved down and took him eagerly into my mouth. I'd probably been sucking on him for a good five minutes when his phone rang. I glanced up at him and he looked at me and reached to see who was on the phone. He started to set it back down and I sort of leaned back and nodded toward it, suggesting he feel free to answer it.

"It's my ex" he told me just before he flipped the phone open. I watched him for a second and he reached down to his cock and kind of pointed it back toward me. I smiled at him and leaned to take his cock back into my mouth. It was incredibly erotic to watch him carrying on a conversation, making an effort to make his breath catch and smiling hugely around his cock every time I could hear his reaction. They carried on a pretty lengthy conversation, his responses becoming shorter and less coherent as they went on. I watched his face, loving to see the way he'd tense up as my tongue did a particularly delightful trick. Part way through I reached down and felt how AMAZINGLY wet I'd become. I showed him, rubbing it on his cock and sucking it off. He was impressed.

After he got off the phone he reached down to touch my pussy and I laughed shyly "I guess I'm a kinky bitch!" "Yes, you are," he agreed.

What followed was something far less impressive than I would have liked. Having him inside me was a bit like... nothing. Keith is much bigger and fucked me harder. I tried hard to enjoy it and concentrated on what was going on... but it wasn't really enough. We changed positions but he has a hard time keeping hard in my favorite position (doggy style) for some reason. So I took control and told him I wanted to masturbate while I sucked him. I probably tried to cum for at least 15 minutes before finally giving up. I knew coming over to his house that I wasn't going to get there. I kept looking at the clock thinking "time's almost up..." which just fucked me up good.

Eventually I focused solely on him and he came in my mouth. I let it squirt a little on my face and let some of it run down my chin back onto his body. The rest I swallowed eagerly. After he was too sensitive to touch I went to the sink and washed myself off. He followed me and did the same. Rather than snuggling into bed like we usually do, I started getting dressed because it had never been my intention to keep him up late.

And so I kissed him and we stopped at the door to talk. I think I told him "I knew I wasn't going to get off tonight, I mean, I tried but...." He nodded "you have a weird body." Which just stopped my heart for a moment. Not because I thought he was insulting my physical self but because here it was. Exactly what I dread. Someone commenting on the way my body responds (or fails to respond) to attention. Yes, I know it wasn't an ideal situation for either of us... but god damn it. It's not like I don't cum, usually. It's just a THING. And I KNOW other women have that THING sometimes. So fuck it. But it really bothers me. And I'm thinking maybe I need to drop things with him for a while. If we never go to bed together again... maybe that's okay.

Mostly, though... I miss Keith. Two days with him and my body feels like it's completely HIS. Here was this man who was a GREAT physical match for me... and he lives in another freakin' country. Whatever. That's just fate for you.

But it's kind of killing me....

The thing I didn't like...

One of the thing that I fear most from men the men I sleep with, and I'm quite confident is one of the things that keeps me from having orgasms with ease is something that happened with Keith, too. The pressure. One of the times he came before me (there were two) he lay back on the bed and began berating himself to me. "Ah, yes, that's me... I cum too quick and I don't satisfy you so you have to take care of yourself. I'm a real stud, really..." etc. The thing is, none of those things were true, except the last... except not in the sarcastic way he meant.

The thing I find most frustrating is that my fear or bruising a man's ego makes it really hard to cum at all. It's performance anxiety. With husband I've always been fairly comfortable that whether I cum or not he's going to be happy (maybe comfortable isn't the word) and if I'm insistent he'll make sure we do whatever it takes to get me off, too. Because of this comfort orgasms with him have been consistent and wonderful. With Keith, while I was more than willing to do whatever it took to get off... there was a certain pressure there to make sure I did, especially because NOT cumming at all would surely have been the nail in the coffin of his masculine pride.

The problem is that I read a lot and it's clear to me that there are many women who have this "problem" and getting off via masturbation (especially with a partner's assistance) isn't particularly uncommon. However, it seems the men I sleep with either sleep with incredibly orgasmic women, women who fake it... or... or... I don't know. Whatever the case may be their discomfort with the fact that they CAN'T get me off just makes me more tense about the whole thing. The men who accept and even encourage it ("it's hot to watch you masturbate") are the men I find most satisfying.

On the other hand men who have that masculine pride are far more likely to enjoy watching and trying to figure out exactly what it is I do when I masturbate so they can attempt to replicate it. However, they're also more likely to become frustrated when I have to tell them they're doing it wrong (and irritating my overly sensitive clit).

Yes, I'm frustrated. I love sex. And I do wish I were more "common" in my responses. But I cum. And shouldn't that be enough?

Another Tidbit

My time with Keith really was amazing and varied. He told me felt like a kid with a new toy... he didn't want to put me away. And that was certainly true. He kissed me... hard... and told me "THAT'S passion" even as he stole my breath.

And at one point he spanked me. And I mocked him for it. "That wasn't even heartfelt" I laughed, even as he spanked me again. I may have gone quiet. Trying to decide whether I really liked it. I didn't hate it. I anticipated the next blow, eagerly. I mocked him again. It felt good. He made me want more.

Thoughts

Husband and I had a very long, very emotional talk. He cried, even. Basically, I told him that at the rate we're going we're certainly going to end up divorced and I see no better time to do so than when we move back home next year. Not that I wanted to, but I told him I can't help but feel my life isn't going how I want it to and I don't see myself in this situation even 10 years from now. It's unacceptable. God knows if anything at all will change... but maybe. Even if we don't have sex again anytime soon it's the OTHER stuff that really bothers me. So it's out in the open. We talked. I already feel better. For now.

On a different note, I uploaded a couple of photos I let Keith take of me going down on him. He also caught a few of me masturbating. Those I liked less. But that's because I'm not thrilled with my body. However, the smile on my face as I'm leaning in to take Keith into my mouth certainly caught the joy and pleasure I felt being with him. It's not a beautiful picture of me... but it is a beautiful picture none the less. And it makes me really sad I'll never see him again.

Cade came in and barely spoke to me. In and out. That quick. I think he was disappointed that I'm married. I'm disappointed he's not naked. So I guess we're just both bound to be disappointed.

I'm seriously considering asking to be put on a pretty much all closing schedule because I really like getting to see my favorite boys and don't get to do that when I work the morning shift....

The Missing Night

So then in the night off between seeing Keith, I went to see Martin. I actually really would rather have seen Keith if only because I knew he's going to be gone and I hated the idea of wasting even one day. However, I really like Martin and the fact that his attention toward me is also so transitory I couldn't bring myself to beg off from seeing him. So I "suffered" through.

I arrived at Martin's house just after he did. He was on the phone with his girlfriend, I presume. He was still dressed in his work clothes, a blue button down shirt, dark slacks, and a longish leather coat. He looked fucking HOT. So fucking hot I had a hard time looking at him. Why do I find it so hard to look at things I find beautiful? I should have just openly stared but couldn't. He got off the phone and opened some mail as I sat on the couch idly flipping through a magazine and watching him.

He moved from the mail to changing his clothes. We talked as I watched him strip out of his work clothes, taking off his pants, then unbuttoning his shirt. "Oh, my god that's fucking HOT," I said. "What?" he asked. "That... what you're doing... is fucking HOT!" He smiled at me, finishing what he was doing before slipping into the bedroom to get his change of clothes and get rid of this cast offs. He returned with his hat, coat, t-shirt, and jeans on and sat down on a nearby chair to put on his shoes.

"Umm... can you do that over here?" I asked him. Patting the spot next to me on the couch. As soon as he sat down I reached for him. He shrugged out of his coat and I kissed him. As I did so he took off his hat, clearly settling in for the long hall. I laughed and kissed him some more before drawing back. "We can still go. I just... you know... wanted to kiss you. Plus, you're usually the one who kisses me first so I thought... well... I wanted to."

He nodded and got re-dressed and we headed out. We ended up going out to dinner at a cool Japanese restaurant. While we were there we sat pressed together intimately, his hand rubbing my thigh or my shoulder. I let my hand rest on his thigh and we ate and talked. It was like a real date... which made me vaguely uncomfortable. However, we're friends and we're lovers and we have fun so why bother putting labels on things?

Afterward we went back to his house and sat down in front of the tv. He leaned down to my lap and rested his head there while I petted him for a while. I imagine he was thinking of someone else, his girlfriend, as I caressed him. I was thinking only of him. We were watching some show about marines and I started telling him the things that I find hot about the various marines and why. Then I asked, "hey... do you still have your uniform?" I giggled. Martin wasn't a marine, but I never did get to see him in his uniform. Not that I have a uniform fetish. Merely a marine/Seal/Ranger/PJ thing going on. Mostly the last three, but a marine is far easier to find.

Eventually we started kissing and it wasn't long before his cock was in my mouth. He's very respectful about that but he's learned that I really enjoy it and has become much less shy about asking for it. And, I know he really likes it so I take great delight in doing it. I like watching him and I absolutely LOVE that he likes to watch me. He pulled my shirt off and I whined knowing I was going to have to move back and let him go. He heard me, "you'll have to stop... but just for a second... you can have it back." I whined again and complied, quickly sucking him back into my mouth. Eventually, he made me stop again so we could go to the bedroom.

In the bedroom we both finished undressing and he pushed me back onto the bed. I momentarily thought he was going to join me, but I watched him grab hold of his cock and I knew he wanted it back in my mouth. I probably ended up sucking his cock for a good half hour before we even actually made it onto the bed and I loved ever single second of it.

Finally he told me, "Let's get you off... then I'll fuck you..." I groaned against his cock. "I hate to give it up..." I murmured. "You can suck it again when we're done if you want." I nodded and finally let him free. "I'm going to go get your purse and we'll get a condom and your lube. I want you to wait for me here with your legs spread... I want to see you like that when I come in." I nodded and he left. I couldn't resist rubbing my clit, obeying him and waiting for his return.

When he returned, he stopped to watch me for a moment, "that's nice," he sighed. Then he joined me on the bed. He slid a condom on and moved inside me, my fingers still working on my clit. Condoms, though, are not his best friend. I could feel him starting to go soft, which I know frustrates him. Still... I really wanted to cum so I figured I'd ask for the impossible and see what I got. "I really want you to fuck me from behind," I asked. "I want to cum that way." He nodded and moved back so I could get into position. I worked on cumming that way but he just wasn't hard enough so he moved back sliding a finger (or two?) inside. I came on his hand after a few minutes. Came hard, I might add.

I turned back over and he moved over me again. He was hard, again, so he slid inside me and fucked me. One thing I've never been good at it looking at my lover... or talking too much during sex. I've been working on reading a book erotic talk which I think has helped. Still, I remain shy and unsure. Martin fucked me for a while and finally said "I want you to look at me and tell me to fuck you." I moved my gaze up to his eyes and repeated his works "fuck me... please..." So he did. After a few moments of that I asked again... then added "fuck me harder..." and he DID. And it was wonderful. I repeated his name a few times... watching him as he fucked me.

Both sweaty, now, I asked him "are you ready to cum for me?" He nodded, "But I really want you to cum in my mouth.. I like that... I want to suck you again." He agreed and layed back on the bed. However, as I reached for a hair clip from my bag I told him, "you know... you should be watching this." It was just a bit too dark for him to really see. "You can turn on a light." He considered for a second and said "let me light some candles, then." I agreed and headed to the bathroom while he took care of the lighting.

When I returned the candles were lit and he headed back to the bed. I joined him and began to get him hard again. Quickly, I had him in my mouth and began sucking his cock, letting my tongue tap, slip, and slide over his cock. Eventually, he took over the duties, his hand jacking up and down his cock ad my lips and tongue had their way with the head. I kept running my tongue over his cock and asking him to please cum for me... to cum on my face... please.

Long time readers with incredible memories will remember that this was something he'd mentioned an interest in months ago. Something I'd filed away as something I would absolutely HAVE to do. And indeed, I did it.

I lay there huddled between his legs, my tongue teasing and lapping and occasionally messing up his rhythm by sucking on his cock. "You look just like a porn star," he told me. Eventually he came, his semen on my face, in my mouth, and running down my chin. I licked at his cock, taking up some of the cum that had drooled out, not quite making it as far as me. He shivered at the contact so I stopped and gave it a quick kiss before excusing myself to the bathroom to clean off where he joined me to clean himself off as well.

Afterward, we retired back to the bed to cuddle and bond a little. Remembering the comfort and sensuality of the first night with Keith, I crawled up Martin's body onto his back and began kissing, licking, and teasing the sensitive skin of his back. He shivered and moaned as physically thanked him for our time together. Eventually, I moved next to him and we caressed and kissed one another down from the afterglow of our love making.

Aqueous

Work was great fun. I flirted a little here and there as I tend to. Nils came in. Did I mention recently how much I crave him? He came in and said something like "ah, there's my favorite" or something like that as he headed down an aisle. "That's right," I called after him, "and don't you forget it!" So he wandered the store a bit. I noticed that he's started hanging out a bit more. Maybe waiting for his friends to leave so he can talk to me without being "caught" doing it. Whatever the case, it works for me.

So when he came toward the front of the store I asked him "so, I totally missed an opportunity last time you came in. What kind of person walks into a convenience store with gun, ski mask, and dark glasses?!?" He stared at me looking vaguely bemused, perhaps having not really considered what exactly he'd done. He stared at me a moment longer before saying "Me, that's who." and smiled. "Really you're lucky," I added, "that I recognize you even when I can't see your face." And left it at that. I said what I wanted to say. What I wanted him to think about.

Eventually he came through my line and we had a short talk. Apparently he attended some military school. He must have been an officer, did his time in and is now doing... well... what he does. And I cannot stop thinking how fucking hot he is!

I found myself getting wet with him so close. I excitedly chewed on my tongue piercing while he was there, all the while thinking how badly I want to use it on him. And after he left I was shaking, again. My entire brain frozen with the fact that I'd gotten to talk to him.

Later, Sam came in. I don't think I've talked about Sam before so let me describe him. Sam is probably somewhere in his 30's. Mid to late, maybe. Although I've discovered as soon as men hit thirty I pretty much lose my ability to name their age. He's tall and well built in a way that ANY woman would appreciate. He's got great twinkling eyes and a sexy smile. His voice is deep and resonant with a super sexy southern accent. He's beautiful but in a very masculine way.

He comes in to buy a cup of coffee and maybe some small snack. The first time I'd already thrown away the coffee. Since then I've made it a point to pay close attention to what time he comes in and have fresh coffee available for him. He's friendly so it makes it really easy to flirt with him.

Tonight he came in and I knew it was him even though I couldn't see him. The timing was right... and the briefest glimpse told me it was him. I tried hard to look but didn't want him to catch me watching him. Eventually we saw one another and he greeted me. I was delighted to see that he was wearing jeans and a really nice sweater. Delighted until considered that someone surely chose those clothes for him. Dammit. Whatever the case I've never seen him in anything other than PT clothes or his BDUs. Never in civies.

I asked him why he was wearing those particular clothes and he told me about his day. I came up with some lame-ass questions that kept him nearby and in the course of the conversation he told me that I'd see more of him in the coming week. "I'll look forward to that." I told him. Not very subtle. I liked it.

Oh, yeah. And definitely an incredible rush of wetness from him. When I saw him in his jeans my body reacted promptly creating exactly the environment I'd need to have him inside me without delay. I was incredibly wet.

Which brings me to the point of all this. I love the fact that getting fucked regularly makes me so fucking horny ALL the time. I LOVE THAT. I don't so much love that I don't have any immediate chances of getting laid again, however....

Another Great Night

Unfortunately, I envision this as being the last of the sex I'll be getting for a while. I'm trying very hard not to pursue Martin too hard and will be impatiently await his beck and call and praying to god he invites me over sometime this coming week. Otherwise... I have nothing on the menu. And that sucks.

I went and Keith again last night. We stayed up for hours and hours (and interestingly, so did he...) and it was amazing. We talked for a long time, because we discovered we like one another quite a bit and eventually we went into the bedroom and I had my way with him. Or he has his way with me. Maybe a little of both.

The highlights of the night included him giving me terrific oral sex. I never cum... but I was really enjoying it. And then there was this time when he was fucking me. One must first know that Keith is pretty well hung. He's absolutely a grower... and a terrific grower at that. I'm a bit of a size queen and he certainly delivered in that department. So, fucking away I could feel myself growing increasingly hot and flushed around my cheeks and neck. All I cared about was that it felt incredible. He was over me, watching me and we were doing fine. And then he just sort of lost it and came. Afterward he lay back, holding me, looking embarrassed. "I was doing great... and then you had this look..." and he said it sent him over. Hey, that's cool.

A bit later he had it up again and he took me from behind. I came hard with my fingers working my clit, his cock deep inside me. And I think what I appreciated most about that was that he fucked me for a minute that way then asked me to turn over. Because he likes to watch me as he fucks me. How hot is that?!?

I brought my camera with me and he took a few pictures. Watching him take the pictures and then view the results... clearly he was enjoying them a hell of a lot. It's funny how some men seem to enjoy pictures more than reality at times. His cock got rock hard looking at the digital screen....

Other highlights... Keith is... the fuzz, really A very special type of fuzz, but the fuzz none the less. This alone was kind of extra hot. Thinking about him... being somewhat powerful... doing whatever clandestine things he does... and then being there... his tongue doing magnificent things to my body... super hot. He was also a wrestler in high school. Between the two things we had some fun wrestling as he showed me a move or two for fun and self defense. And I started thinking that maybe I really do want to take some kind of jiu jitsu class or something....

It's early yet, I've had about 3 hours of sleep and the bed is calling me. I only stayed up long enough for husband to get out of bed for work so I wouldn't disturb him. So off I go to bed. I can still feel Keith deep inside me... and I'll be thinking of him as I drift off to sleep for my last couple of hours before work.

Even More.

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More on that.

I followed his directions to the hotel. Bad directions, I might add. Luckily, I know the area well enough to feel confident and overcame the incorrect direction arriving quite quickly at the lobby. He'd given me directions to his room and without hesitation I knocked.

The man that answered the door was far more attractive, masculine, and somehow... younger than I imagined. He invited me in and I made myself comfortable, trying to recover from the extreme cold outside and my nervousness. He poured some wine and he sat down on the love seat, myself on the chair and talked. As I sat in the chair I briefly wondered if I should have taken the loveseat, too, but decided it was just slightly more intimate than I was comfortable with, yet. The wine and the conversation flowed and it wasn't long before I was sprawled across the chair nearly boneless, tipsy, and warm.

He said something to me about his work the next day, and then told me "here... turn around and put your feet up here" as I was sprawled out facing away from him. I didn't move, my brain putting together his last sentence (about work) with his current sentence and seeing nothing in it for me. He repeated himself at last reaching out and bodily starting to move me (gently but insistently). I laughed, realization dawning. "You meant ME... NOW... in REAL LIFE!" He laughed at me, "yes" and I moved.

He took my foot in his hand and began to massage it. I relaxed, and he asked me if I liked it. "Well, yes... it's not bad... but I admit I am a little numb in the extremities..." He sighed, disappointed. "This is my bread and butter," he said, going back to work. I laughed, "I'm so sorry. Normally I adore it... I really do like it even now... just not as much as I really SHOULD." As he continued his administrations I became more relaxed. His hands moved up my body toward my thighs... then onto the next leg. By the time he was done there was really no question that we were going to go to bed together. He got up for water and when he returned he told me "time for your back." I sat there blankly and he took my hand, helping me up and toward the bedroom.

At this point I really wasn't drunk. I was somewhere between being tipsy and drunk. Still in control of my facilities... but not really so much of the finer points of dexterity. He led me to the bed and I lay down. He joined me quickly and began to guide me onto my stomach before stopping me, "you know... I just... I have to do this..." he moved closer, his body hovering over mine, "...do you mind?" he asked, stopping well short of kissing me. "No, I don't mind at all..." I responded and his lips came down over mine.

Every man has his own kissing style. Some I appreciate, some I do not. I like a lot of lip. I like a good firm kiss. Not too much teasing. Keith's kissing style was something I've never experienced before. His tongue is insistent, long, strong, and he's not shy with it. There was nothing of lizard tongue or tonsil hockey. He likes to use his tongue to excite and entice... and never overstays his welcome. His tongue explored my mouth, my neck, my ears... all my most tender, sensitive spots and I couldn't stop moaning in response to each heated touch of tongue and lip.

He moved more fully over me and helped take off my shirt. Shortly after that, my bra followed and he began to play with my breasts. In all my life I've known many men who claim to be breast men. They enjoy looking at breasts, and touching them... but none have really relished them the way Keith did. This was the sort of response I'd imagined in my head so many times... god knows where I got the idea from but his excitement was beyond evident and was well appreciated by myself.

After several minutes he seemed to gather himself together and pulled away advising me to turn over. He helped divest me of my pants and then straddled me, his strong fingers kneading my back. I could feel his cock resting firmly between my butt cheeks and I quickly forgot what his hands were doing in favor of arching myself to feel his hardness more fully. I'm sure he continued his back massage but truly, I was focused on the feel of his cock, which he thrust against me every time he moved.

Not so much like me...

or maybe it is.

A few days ago there was the guy who told me, at the store, that I was pretty. I was messaged on the personals site by a man who looked exactly like that man... in his picture. It surprised me. And excited me. The man who said I was pretty was available. He'd read my ad and found me exciting enough to want to pursue it. I thought.

Turns out I was wrong. The similarities while vaguely uncanny in the photograph turned out to be merely similarities. None the less, I was intrigued. His introductory message to me said the following:

It is unfortunate I just found you on here. I leave Friday, and am just down the road from you.

Anyways. my name is Keith, and in the military. I am not sure if I should keep talking because it won't lead anywhere.

Good luck, and I hope you find someone. If you'd like to, you can YIM me.

His assurance that his e-mail would not lead to anything pleased me a little because of the fact that I'd made it clear in my profile that I really wasn't interested in meeting someone quickly. He'd obviously read my profile and acknowledged that he was not right for me... but wanted me to know that I was right for him. I appreciate those sorts of messages at times.

I did YIM him, thinking he was the man from the store. Our conversation quickly proved that NOT to be true. However, it also proved he was a really funny, really interesting guy. He invited me over a number of times and I laughed him off. After all, we'd already established that he wasn't offering what I really want. Still... I didn't say goodbye either. Conversation flowed... then he turned on his webcam. And we kept talking. And then he showed me his IDs. Three of them. And I thought, "well, I can be reasonably sure he's not a dangerous criminal..." and then I thought "you know... he's turning me on... he's nearby for now..." and I agreed to go see him.

I stopped and picked up some wine. Something to get me a little more at ease. And then I headed to see him....

A trio of thoughts unrelated.

1. Claiming your blog at Technorati.com and adding appropriate tags brings site hits. If you're a publicity whore like I am, I recommend it.

2. Over the last couple of years there has been a lot of talk and debate about pharmacists denying women birth control pills and the morning after pill because of their religious or ethical beliefs. Often people who are incensed by this bring up the idea that no pharmacist would deny a man his viagra therefore, no woman should be denied birth control. All day this has bothered me. As a woman who doesn't get near enough sex I tend to think that the people who mention viagra are comparing apples and oranges a bit. Yes, viagra allows a man to get an erection.. but more important it allows women to get laid. Oh, thank god for that. So let's not suggest pharmacists stop filling prescriptions for viagra to be fair. Because there's simply nothing fair about that.

3. Nils is way too fucking hot. And I always, always act stupid around him. I told him today, " I swear I'm not stupid" "I would never say you were." I thought about that later and thought "no! He missed the point... FUCK... I was just TELLING him... so he wouldn't think I thought he was stupid but now he thinks I'm mad at him. Fuck fuck fuck." I tell you, I get so dumb around him.

4. I have a hot date with Martin for tomorrow night. I'm so fucking excited it's not even funny.

Dizzy.

I like to kiss. A lot. So can someone please explain to me why no matter how short or long a passionate kiss with me might be... my first step away from whomever it is I just kissed involves me looking drunk and often nearly falling over? What is it about kissing that I find so intoxicating? And is that at all flattering or cute? Or do I just look like a damned fool? Not that it matters because I clearly have no control over it.

So what happened?

The down and dirty details.

Martin and I spent hours communicating before I even arrived. I was exceptionally horny, I had told him, but was at the beginning of my period so everything hurt and things were VERY messy. The irony kills me. However, I suggested that it might be fun for me to come over and service him.

I got to Martin's house and he immediately took me into the bedroom. It was cold outside so I stayed wrapped in my shirt, sweater, and coat waiting for the heat from his home to seep into my skin. On TV was some blonde laying on a bed pretending to masturbate. I sat down and his fingers found their way under the layers and slid over the small of my back, warming me in a much more interesting way.

"What the hell are you watching?" I asked, not terribly impressed. "It's Anna Nicole Smith," he laughed, "I don't know when it's from but it's really bad. You HAVE to watch it." So I did. For a bit. Until he pulled me back onto the bed and began kissing me. I could hear Anna Nicole in the background and finally had to complain about how bad the show was. He rolled over and flicked the TV to another channel before moving over me.

I spread my legs to accommodate him and he fit himself to me, the bulge in his pants rubbing against the crotch of my jeans. His fingers found my nipples and his tongue darted into my mouth. I think we must have kissed for an hour, though it was maybe 10 minutes before his mouth moved down to torment my breasts. I let my hands roam up and down his body until he finally grabbed them and held them both over my head. I considered briefly struggling with him, just to see what his reaction would be... but instead went along with the confinement and let my body arch and move against him wantonly... letting my body express what my hands were no longer available to.

Finally, he moved up and I pushed his shirt up his body. He loves his nipples to be teased and suckled and I'm more than happy to do it. For some reason the majority of the men I've been with have had one issue or another with nipple play so I've never been able to really get into a man's nipples. He adores it. And I'm more than happy to have my way with him.

He stripped off his shirt and it wasn't long before my hands were gliding around his cock. He quickly removed his pants and I chose that moment to pounce. I tore off my shirt, leaving on my pants, and without preamble closed my mouth around his cock. He moaned.

We adjusted positions, my mouth gliding between his cock and balls. I could feel his hands gathering up my hair into a knot on top of my head... his eyes glued to what my mouth was doing. I ran my tongue over his cock, always keeping the stud moving. I adore his responsiveness. I moved off his cock as I felt him starting to get closer to orgasm, leaning back to barely tongue it. "I love the way you taste" I said. His body immediately answered with a drop of precum and I licked it up. I let my fingers trail over his body before moving down to grip his cock. "If I had my way you'd be deep inside me right now," I told him, "fucking me hard. You're very good at that." He moaned just a little and took over my story, which actually irritated me. I don't talk during sex, usually. Don't say sexy exciting things. This was my moment on the stage and he took over. "Hey, I thought this was MY fantasy," I said. "Oh, sorry" he replied and I replaced my hand with my mouth, effectively silencing myself once again.

I brought him to the edge twice more. I could feel my mouth was starting to get tired... but I didn't want to stop. Still knowing my teeth would soon make their way into his tender flesh if I didn't quit while I was ahead, I increased my pace. He let me know he was about to cum. This time, instead of aiming his cock toward the back of my throat I moved up on it. He came in my mouth, in the middle of my tongue. I could taste his cum. His orgasms, in my opinion, are extraordinarily long for a man, I continued to suck his cock as he continued to cum until finally he subsided. My mouth full of his cum, I sat up and swallowed it all before checking for anything I might have left behind. His cock clean, I moved up his body to snuggle, smacking my lips a little trying to make sure to lick every drop of his flavor from my mouth. I remain impressed at how good he tastes.

"You really do taste good," I told him. Of course, I knew that I'd been teasing him all night long and before I headed to his house, I'd mentioned that I was a little afraid of what I'd done... a man who's been teased for hours is more likely to produce a huge amount of cum. "But I think I might appreciate that you took care of things BEFORE I got here," I continued. He'd masturbated once before I arrived... so he'd last longer. He smiled at that, "I didn't want to drown you." I laughed, "I appreciate that."

He got up and we moved under the covers to snuggle more efficiently. "I just want you to know that you must have caught me on a good day cuz I'm really quite satisfied with your orgasm. You should know I often get bitter and angry about this sort of thing." "You do?" he asked, not sounding surprised. "I really do. But I feel... really good right now." When his hands started roaming my body idly, I began to question just how satisfied I really was and considered that maybe I really did need to cum. However, he stopped and I let my body bask in the excitement and pleasure of having pleased him.

We fell asleep after a while, snuggled close. I don't sleep well in other people's homes and am not used to being snuggled with so both things kept me from sleeping very well. However, I sleep I did. About once an hour I'd wake up to adjust my position. Each time I moved, he would wake up and adjust his position to compliment mine so we were once again snuggled and we'd both fall asleep.

I woke up first in the morning, of course. By this point I was awake enough that I knew I wasn't going to get anymore sleep. Martin, on the other hand, woke up for a few seconds as I adjusted position and promptly fell back asleep. I lay there for a long while trying to decide what to do with myself. And began to caress him.

It wasn't long before he was awake and hard again. I took him into my mouth and with only a little teasing, made him cum again. I swallowed and snuggled up to him again for a few minutes before we both got up.

We ended up going to breakfast and talking quite a bit about religion and our childhoods. We went back to his place and I gathered my stuff together to leave. At the door we kissed for several minutes and I considered taking him back to the bedroom for a third orgasm... but knew I really needed to get going. And so with a final kiss, I headed home.

50 More Things

1. I loathe condoms. But recognize their necessity.
2. I have three "sets" of piercings, ears, tongue, and nipples.
3. Each of my three piercings has been done (in one way or another) for a man.
4. Seeing hot men (especially those who don't seem to think they're hot) makes me smile. A lot.
5. I have thing for half-Asian guys. I've never slept with one, however.
6. I hunger for really huge cock. I'm fine with smaller ones... but just have a deep seated desire to get really freaky with a big, thick cock. And never really have.
7. I often think about buying a bigger dildo but am afraid it'll "stretch me out."
8. I can, at times, be just as satisfied by my lover's orgasm as by my own.
9. Over the years I've taken a lot of naked and half naked photos of myself. Because I'm my only nude model.
10. I don't like how I look naked.
11. I crave lacy underthings... that are comfortable.
12. I adore Leighton's Flaming June... and think it's one of the most erotic pieces of art ever. I'd like to be the model for a photographic recreation.
13. I get jealous of the dogs when my husband spends long amounts of time petting them... and not me.
14. I love manly men. I love their bodies and I love the idea of being totally under their control. Sometimes.
15. One of my deepest regrets is having not slept with DJ a second time after he gave me what was probably my most stunning orgasm ever.
16. I'm attracted to men who are smarter than I am. Although I think I'm pretty intelligent.
17. I always sleep better in my own bed than a lover's. However, I often prefer to stay over in the hopes I'll get to enjoy another round.
18. When I'm really horny sometimes I get angry and bitter that there is no one around at that exact moment to fuck me hard.
19. I'm working hard at being more daring and honest because those are among the things I read and admire about my fellow bloggers in their everyday lives.
20. Even though I often let it be known how sensitive my ears are to attention, my husband remains the only man who has ever really taken advantage of it.
21. I'm seriously considering getting my hood pierced.
22. The first guy I slept with used Drakaar Noir and I've associated that scent with sex ever since.
23. As a young teen, I used to masturbate with a 6" glass rain drop (pictures of which are available online) given to me by one of my sisters. Until I stepped on it and broke it. I'm sure she never knew how much I liked that present.
24. My favorite lube is Maximus. It's made for "heavier applications."
25. Sometimes I'm tempted to have sex with people just to have something to write about.
26. I like being sore after sex. Every ache makes me smile. Unless it feels too much like cramps.
27. I find gay/bisexual stories to be the hottest.
28. Sometimes (rarely) I think I'm beautiful.
29. I think watching a man covertly masturbate is sexier than him doing so openly.
30. My attraction to most men is immediately increased by any amount of attraction he expresses towards me.
31. Whenever music/tv is on during sex I inevitably tune it out completely.
32. The more sex I have, the louder and more expressive I get.
33. I wish my body were more sensitive to the touch. Especially my breasts.
34. I crave somewhat more violent, dominant sexual interaction but inevitably seem to end up with mild mannered men who claim to lack that wild side.
35. I wish I were more orgasmic.
36. If I had my way I'd receive some kind of tactile sexual stimulation every single day even if it wasn't all the way to sex or orgasm.
37. I love kissing but fear I'm terrible at it.
38. I was really impressed with Martin's deftness with his hands and want desperately to be that kind of lover.
39. I think I could BE that kind of lover to another woman.
40. I have slept with at least one of each of the following: a black, a cuban, an italian, an irishman, a puerto rican, and a polynesian. Those are all I really know for sure, and some of them are the same person. I need more international flavor. Although in truth... it doesn't really matter.
41. I come from a broken home.
42. Since I have nothing to do with my birth family I occasionally get worried that I could, someday, flirt (or more) with a relative and never even know it. It frightens me.
43. I have been at least two different men's second lovers. Second only to their wives. Their wives have not been particularly good teachers.
44. The most experienced lovers I've been with have also been the most knowledgeable in what feels good... and most willing to learn what feels even better.
45. I find UK accents to be really fucking hot (at least the ones I can decipher). I'm such a typical American woman..
46. When I go out in public without makeup I feel naked. For about five minutes. Then I forget.
47. I don't think I'm very good in bed.
48. Which probably makes me pretty good in bed since I always try to improve my craft.
49. I love it when my lover gathers my hair up in his hands so he can watch me suck his cock. And uses it to guide my movements.
50. I used to have rape fantasies in which I was the "victim." Now I have rape fantasies in which I am the perpetrator. But they're solely fantasies.

Oops I did it again....

I spent the better part of last night trading texts and IMs with Martin. I told him I really shouldn't sleep with him anymore. That he was absolutely going to hurt me again and I really need to take care of myself and sleeping with him would be a big mistake. We then went on to analyze the possibilities of our relationship and what it could possibly lead to. And as we finally both started to land on the fact that, no, in fact we should NOT ever sleep together again he asked "are we over analyzing this?" Basically, saying "if we keep talking we're going to agree to never have sex... so let's just pretend this conversation never happened and screw our brains out!"

Which is essentially why I rushed over there to be with him in the wee hours of the morning.

Fun Day

Today turned out to be a relatively good day. It started out with a long rather important talk with husband. I ended up in tears because I hate having those kinds of conversations.. but i came home and he actually did some laundry. A lot of laundry. That was really nice.

So I went to work and basically looked forward to a particularly shitty day... and it ended up being kind of sweet. I was working at another facility other than my "regular" places... and ran into a man I adore flirting with. He's at least twice my age but entirely sexy and nice. When he came in I think I shreiked and threw myself at him for a hug. Later on, he was telling us "oh, I have to go now" so I grabbed his arm and told the manager "We have to get going, now." She laughed and told me, "well, bring him back when you're done with him!" to which I replied "Why? He's going to be WORN OUT!" To which she laughed and he laughed and I thought I'd fuck the hell out of him....

But anyway. That was enjoyable. I always enjoy a good heavy flirting. After he did leave, though, the manager came over and told me "I bring 'em in young... I bring 'em in old... and you ALWAYS take them." Yeah, that's right. I told her "hey, it's not MY fault we have the same taste in men!" which is entirely true....

So that was actually the vast majority of the excitement. And of course there were a few really friendly guys who came in. Only one or two dicks. But a couple of them I thought "dude... he might actually be checking me out!" which isn't really how I usually think. But that sort of thing makes for a great day for me. Because that's what I LIKE.

So that way my day.

Turns out it was an awesome day.

Besides the fact that Martin is flirting with me again via text and acting like he wants to sleep with me again. I told husband "that'd be a REALLY bad idea because it really hurt when he told me no more...." Husband wasn't much help. He's still worried I'm planning on leaving him. Which is something I need to work on reassuring him about. But not right this very second cuz I'm upset with Martin right now. For tormenting me.

This was not part of the awesome day. Just a part.

The awesome part was that work was very very slow. Which was pleasant. And I thought for sure Nils would not be in. But he was!

He walked in and I was so excited. Immediately. "I'm SO glad to see you!" I gushed. We'd been gushing at customers all day because there were so few. But mostly I was REALLY thrilled that he was there. And I wanted him to know it. He came just as my co-worker was leaving. Perhaps planned? And instead of running into the store and back out quickly as he usually does he stopped to browse a little. He came to the counter about the time my coworker was leaving. Before he came up I told her "that's my future husband" as I'd been talking about him all day, calling him "my future husband." She looked over at him, for probably the first time noticing him and said "oh, I can see that." I'm not sure if she meant she could see him and I together or if she agreed that he's somewhat attractive.

Regardless, as she was leaving he came up to the counter and I rang him up. I asked him if he wanted his receipt and he didn't respond. I thought to myself "hmm... maybe I was slurring too much with my tongue piercing" so I repeated myself... slurring worse just to mock myself. "Why're you so mean?" he asked, teasing a little. "I was raised badly." "Were you?" "Yes. I really was. Awful childhood." That's what I get for having a conversation about my childhood the night before. I start thinking about it too much. Get too honest when answering questions. Fuck. "I'm sorry," he said. Or something like that. I shrugged. He stood there gazing at some newspaper article and then held it up to me to look at, "I used to work on those. When I was in the military." I stared blankly at the article trying hard to concentrate on what I was supposed to be looking at. And not at him. Some aircraft of some sort. I don't remember a damned thing about it.

"...should I know what that is?" I asked with an embarrassed laugh. He looked at me for a moment, "from the gulf war?" I thought for a second and said something like "... I used to have collectible cards from that war... with all the guys on it... Colin Powell, Normal Swarz-" "Yeah, all the big heads." "Yeah. I'm sure I had a card for that, too. But now I'll go home and look it up." "No, don't." he said.

Then he stared at me for a second even as I continued to gaze hungrily at him, trying hard not to look half as excited as I was. "What's that in your mouth?" I sat completely still, not responding. Ah, the moment I'd been waiting for. "Open your mouth," he said. I shook my head mutely. "Go like this" he said, demonstrating with his tongue. I pressed my lips together mutinous. "Just do it." So I did for about a second.

"Now, what's a nice, respectable girl like you doing with a-" he began. I shook my head, "who said I was respectable?!?" Of course the PLANNED response... the one I've been waiting to give ANYONE is "so I can give an even better blow job." But it just wasn't there for me.... Plus someone else was in the store. I could have let him do the thing with his tongue and said something like "no.. but you can do that as often as you'd like around me." But no... nothing smart. Just a sly smile.

We got to talking about what service my husband is in... where we're from... when we're going back...." And all I could think was "please, god don't let me have ruined my chances of fucking this guy just because I'm married." I'm tempted to tell him, "you realize my being married doesn't mean you're safe from me...." Or something equally suggestive.

About that time two other men he works with approached the counter and he conversed very briefly with them and left. We may have talked for less than five minutes. It was the longest conversation we've ever had. And I shook for at least an hour after that, feeling my pussy seeping.

Just before he left he made a comment about the magazine the other guy was buying. "Stuff" I think. Very sexual and wrapped in plastic. Nils commented on this just before leaving. I looked at the magazine and turned it over to look at the back. "You know, it really does look like a playboy news stand special," I commented, after Nils left. "How would you know what that looks like?" He asked. Now, I COULD have said "because we carry them." But I was in a mood. So looked at him for a second and finally said, "I have a few." "Hey, I'm not judging," he said quickly. I then added "because I used to draw a lot and that's actually where I learned to draw feet." I left it at that momentarily before also saying quietly "besides, they're kind of fun to look at." "What?" He said. I glanced up from what I was doing, "nothing." "No, seriously. What'd you say?!?" "besides, they're kind of fun to look at," I repeated. He looked at me for a second and said "You just totally made my night!" As I handed him his change.

So then I spent the next couple of hours thinking "damn that Nils for making me so freakin' goofy that I open my mouth and start talking to men I'm not even TRYING to fuck!" And then thinking "I saw him! I TALKED to him! He's so fucking HOT!"

I also found out his last name. And first initial. FINALLY. I also looked him over quite a lot. I adore his body, but it's not conventionally perfect. So here he is probably about 40, mildly overweight, hair thinning... and I just think he is the sexiest man in the world. None of these things which society calls flaws strike me as such. He is perhaps the first man I ever really looked at and thought "no, seriously... he's beautiful" even though he's not what hollywood calls beauty. I considered this for a few minutes and it occurred to me that it must be really flattering to have a young woman (maybe he doesn't know my age... maybe he thinks I'm older) who's quite pretty (or at least who's been called pretty lately) be completely smitten over him. He probably doesn't think of himself as irresistible... and yet that is absolutely what he is to me. If he kissed me I'd undoubtedly moan at the first press of his lips and melt into him, pulling him close, hard... wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of his hot, naked skin against my own.

Whether or not he's the kind of sexy, kinky bastard I'd like him to be is still up for debate. But the incredible physical attraction I feel toward him makes me think maybe it doesn't matter so much.

Dammit.

I'm not sure if it's PMS or if I'm just pissy because I have to go to work and husband doesn't. Yeah, that's right. My military husband is off work because of the snow. Myself? Oh, no... I have to go to work. Nevermind that we both work (or would work) within 1/2 a mile of one another. *I* can make it. *HE* cannot. Because MY retail job is WAAAAAAAAAAAAAY more important than his military one.

I knew this was coming, though. Didn't I?

Also, I may have to answer for why I only have one jury duty paper. And all I can say is I lost my summons, which I'd been planning on sharing and only thought to get the one paper. So they'll have to do what they have to do and not pay me, pay me, or make it vacation. Whatever. I just don't care.

Meanwhile, my face is being bitchy with me and not acting right. My skin occasionally gets really dry and flaky in places and there's just nothing sexy about that. Coming off the high of being complimented yesterday and being relatively sure I'll see Nils today does NOT make being flaky any easier. Most of it's gone and I look relatively normal. But god damn. I'm glad I'm not a guy with this sort of problem, they can't cover it up!

So, yeah. I'm reasonably sure I have PMS and I don't envy those around me today. I'm probably going to have to try really hard to be super sweet just so I can come off as "not a bitch" today. I fucking hate today, already. Please, please let something really good happen to make up for it....

Sweetness.

Today I kept my eyes peeled for Nils all day long. Either I missed him while I was on lunch... or today was his day off. Either way I was painfully disappointed. I so badly wanted to see him. I'm sure I'll see him tomorrow... right?

I talked to someone who works with Wade today. Asked about him, out of curiosity. Turns out his REAL name is the same as the man who molested me and married my mother. Nice. Wade works MUCH better as a name for him and it's very much what I think of him as. Is it wrong to hold a grudge against a NAME?

Meanwhile, this army guy came in. I didn't pay much attention to him except that as I was ringing him up he was looking at me. Not staring. Just looking a little too long. That sort of thing isn't unheard of so I didn't think anything of it. We started talking about the weather and how early winter set in. I complained that retail is SO very important that regardless of what's going on with the rest of the military on base... I have to come to work. Rarely, if ever, will my work shut down for weather. I explained that I'm a critical member of military society because I work in a store.

He smiled at me, then, as I continued to do my work, "you're critical because you're so pretty." I glanced up at him momentarily, nonplused. I know I stared at him for at least a good second, looking completely wide eyed and confused. I remember staring into his eyes, searching his face momentarily for... for something. And then I said "thank you," recognizing his compliment as being completely genuine.

Later, I had a conversation with a man who works nearby. It ended up being something like a twenty minute conversation relating to a mutual friend. They used to date, apparently, so we talked a little about her and apparently one of the drawbacks to being her boyfriend. Apparently she (like me) thinks of herself as not being very attractive and he (and his friends, he said) find that sort of thing to be very annoying. "Especially in a woman her age." I nodded sagely then added, "you know, I'm not really sure that's an age thing... I think that's just how women ARE...." But you know, maybe I'm wrong. Certainly there's a lesson to take from that.

Mental Orgasm Potential

So much of sex is mental. If you're not in the right frame of mind... it's not half as fun as it should be. And you're probably not going to get there. In that way, I sometimes think our brains have waaaaaaaaaay too much control over our bodies and our body's responses. The fact that I've cum in my sleep is an excellent example of how very in control our brains really are. To my knowledge, I've only done this once. Dreaming about having a particularly sexy man go down on me was enough to send me over the edge. I remember feeling the rhythmic tightening in my pussy as I came in my sleep.

So when I woke up this morning, horny and needing to pee enough that my bladder was pressing full on into my gspot I couldn't help but lay there and just really enjoy the sensations. And think of Nils. I didn't touch my clit. I just lay there, flexing my internal muscles and fantasizing.

In my imaginations he would be firm and demanding. Letting me suck his cock and beg to be fucked... but never really relenting. He'd handcuff me and begin to tease my body, maybe straddling me to fuck my breasts or mouth... his hands grazing over my skin....

I could hear him telling me that I wasn't going to get to use my hands tonight... so I might as well get used to wanting to cum... or figure out a way to do it without my hands. His fingers would graze my clit... not stopping long enough to get there...

I touched myself a little that way, mostly keeping my fingers still... these were my lover's hands now... teasing. I lay, writhing on the bed, whispering to him how bad I needed him... imagining having him inside me thrusting deep and hard....

It's amazing to feel the heights, the sensitivity, the shamelessness that even THINKING about that kind of teasing can bring me to. I finally stopped, though, needing more urgently to go to the bathroom.

Of course, I didn't cum. In waking fantasy I couldn't quite imagine the feeling of his hands, tongue, and cock on and in my body. But it was delightful none the less.

Still, in my mind's eye... even as I sit here... I can almost feel him. I'm likely going to be horny all day, now. Just the way I like it.

Tards.

So he tried the same sort of shit again today. Like... what? Yesterday never happened? As soon as I walked in he looked me over, his eyes pointedly going to my breasts. I'm fine with men looking at my breasts... just not HIM. Not like THAT. Fucker. He asked me for a hug, again, and I said "no, knock it off" and walked away. I tried to make it a point to be nowhere near him for the rest of the day because he pissed me off so bad.

Now, I won't have to see him again other than briefly once in a while. That's fine with me, thanks!

I also ran into Eric today. God knows, I really think he found my blog and reads it... but can't prove it. Eric is very much the reason why I changed my blog's address and my sign in name. Unfortuantely, searching for Odalisquek brings this blog right up anyway. So fuck it. Fuck it if he's read it. Fuck it if he knows. Just fuck it. What do I care?

So, yeah. I ran into him. And it was kind of weird. Not too. Just enough, though. Just enough to have me thinking "huh... I know too much about him, now... and he about me." Actually, I really hope he HASN'T read my blog because that'd be really extra weird considering how sexually honest and open I am here... versus any other time in real life.

So. Weird. But it was nice seeing him because I have always liked him.

Tomorrow... I'm off work....

What the hell?

First.

I'd like to make mention of the curse of this blog. Basically, if I write about someone in glowing terms... if I talk about how much I think I want to sleep with them and how excited I am by the idea... I will never, ever get to. For any number of reasons. Apparently number one being that I wrote about them in this blog... even if they don't know about it.

Part two.

What the fuck is wrong with men? I think in the last couple of weeks I've been come on to by about four different guys, face to face. Of those only one has been even somewhat diplomatic... and I still won't sleep with him.

Most recent was my freakin' coworker! I don't know what goes through people's heads sometimes but he definately came on to me like I'm the store slut. Like he knew that I sleep around and that I was absolutely going to say "yes" and fuck him right there. I think NOT.

In fact, I told him "no, I don't DO that with people I work with" to which he responded "I'll quit tomorrow!" Do I have to be less subtle here? I don't fucking WANT him. "It WOULDN'T be worth it," I said. Not explaining that it certainly wouldn't be worth it to ME and I don't give a shit if he works there or not." He put his HANDS on me. In a way you just don't DO with friends or coworkers. And I didn't like it one little bit. I told him three times "no" and then it was time for him to go home. So maybe he'll lay off today. If he doesn't... god dammit I'm going to be pissed.

It makes me loathe men. All men everywhere (okay not ALL men). But it does make me glad I won't have to work with him again for the rest of the month. And hopefully by then he'll have calmed down. Because... eew.