And then there are those Sugar Daddy sites…

No sugar daddy at the Comfort Inn. ;)
No sugar daddy at the Comfort Inn. 😉

I’ve always been attracted to younger men and generally don’t date anyone more than about 4 years older than me. My entire adult life I’ve been told I need to be with an older man, because of the maturity level. But let me tell you – I have not seen much of a difference in maturity when it comes to age.

I’ve tried a spectrum dating sites over time – ranging from the typical PoF and Match and Tinder to Cougar dating. I thought I’d try out a sugar daddy site to see if I get any different results from men that supposedly have money (as opposed to half of the ones I meet that are unemployed), to see if I get treated better. I have to say that anyone that I was physically attracted to was looking for much younger women/girls 18-21. There were very few attractive men on there to begin with, and many were married just looking for a fling.

The first “gentlemen” I agreed to meet for lunch claimed he was in his early 50s (looked older) and lived about two hours away.  This was right when my job started cutting my hours, so I had some time to meet during the week. (Let me add right here that when I first meet anyone, I dress in appropriate office attire, so no one gets the wrong idea.) Of course he looked better in his photos, but I was trying to figure out if we would click. We met at a sushi place, sat in the back corner so we could speak. The place was super quiet, which made it awkward to have a conversation without everyone hearing us. First, we talked about what we did for a living and basic life things. (Oh… and he’s married, but she’s not interested in sex and hasn’t been in a long time.) I watched him eat his sushi with a fork, tried to teach him how to use chopsticks… it was a disaster… which made me think he’s not very refined for a man his age, but it gave me something to talk about.

As we finished up, the place started clearing out, but the two women sitting behind us were barely whispering, which made me think they were listening to us. Then he got on his phone and started googling something… his entire face changed from normal to lustful creepy… said something like, “So how do you want to do this? Want to get a room at the Comfort Inn down the street and see if we click? I know you could use the money.” He’d been googling hotels in the area. (Let me add right here that the area is not a place I would ever get a cheap hotel, no matter the occasion.) He wanted to leave right away.

I was taken aback, because this wasn’t the “arrangement” I was seeking. In fact, I had clearly stated in my profile what I was looking for, yet I was open-minded at the same time – and I certainly wasn’t asking to get paid to have sex with a stranger. Speechless, he could tell that I was uncomfortable by his surprising offer (not to mention that a place like the Comfort Inn would be a place to sleep when I was in college, but certainly not a place to take a woman if you’re trying to woo her.) Plus, I had clearly stated I’m not an escort, so at the same time I was slightly offended but it hadn’t completely sunken in yet. It was like the initial shock you feel getting unexpectedly slapped in the face.

I politely told him I’d have to think about it, since we just met, and it was a good excuse to get the hell out of there. Once I left and had time to absorb what had just happened, I was disgusted. I mean, how does a man claiming he didn’t want a “pro” or an escort meet someone like me and offer the same exact thing he claims he’s not looking for?

I had about an hour drive home to think about it all, sent him an email saying thanks but no thanks, and I let him know that his offer was offensive and cheap. He apologized, because that wasn’t his intention. We didn’t contact each other again. About a year later, I went back on the site and he was still on there without any changes to his profile. Some men just never learn, no matter the age.

After meeting two other men on that site, I deleted my profile. To be continued…

I Am Not a Princess

These Princess shoes don't fit.
These Princess shoes don’t fit.

A few months ago, one of my oldest friends (since preschool) was posting all sorts of photos on her Facebook page about it being her “birthday month”. So there were multiple pics of gifts and dinners for days. Now this wasn’t a special birthday like her 40th or anything, so getting gifts and meals for the entire month seemed like a strange thing to me. Then it dawned on me that this particular friend is definitely more of a Princess than I had imagined her to be.

I have another friend that considers herself a Princess, especially on holidays and her birthday. She makes a huge ordeal out of it, buys herself special cakes, and insists her husband buy her expensive jewelry, even though they can barely afford it. God forbid if you forget to tell her “happy birthday,” because she’ll pout about it for some time.

I just don’t get these types of women. For my birthday, which I try not to make too public, I usually get myself takeout from a place that serves delicious food or go somewhere to for a few drinks. (This year, a work friend took me out for sushi.) But I cannot for the life of me imagine celebrating for an entire month. That seems a little extreme. I would prefer to go on a nice trip somewhere for a week rather than have “things” that won’t make me happy. But that’s just me… because I am not a Princess.

College Cub from a Cougar Dating Site

Fullbacks
Mrs. Robinson panties

I met a 24-year-old College Cub a few years ago on a cougar dating site. His pictures were really cute – blond hair, blue eyes, average build. He seemed like he could hold a decent, educated conversation, which is important to me. He lived about an hour and a half away, and we only hung out twice, mostly because he was unreliable or wanted to show up at my place at midnight and stay the night when I had to work the next day.

Upon the first actual meeting, College Cub showed up with alcohol, which is more than what I’m used to. He was wearing sweatpants and a tshirt and looked a little sloppy, and he was much shorter than he alluded in his profile. We made drinks and sat on the infamous cougar couch to chat and get to know each other. He would be graduating college that year, and he worked in sales. He was definitely easy to talk to, and we seemed to enjoy each other’s company. A few hours later, we were all over each other… but he was definitely inexperienced and anxious.

I don’t mind giving a few directions, but College Cub had no idea what he was doing. I had to teach him everything… even to slow down when he kissed me, because he must have thought he was in a race. He didn’t know what to do with his fingers, so I gently showed him how to rub my special places and how to properly insert a finger without jabbing me like a cattle prod. He didn’t know how to use his mouth when he went down on my either, so I had to instruct him there as well. It was truly work and not that much fun for me.

College Cub’s dick was a little on the small side, which made it even more work for me in that department. A little short, and not thick, which meant riding him was going to take some extra skills. Finally, it was late, and he finished quickly.

We saw each other once more after that, and he remembered a lot of what I taught him, which was nicer than giving instructions while I was trying to get off. Once every so often, I’d hear from College Cub, and I’d spy on his Facebook page to see whether or not he was in a relationship and trying to pull one over on me – and he was. He was begging me to have him over, and I’d moved about 45 minutes from where I’d lived when I saw him prior, but he didn’t care. I told him I wasn’t interested, but he didn’t take that as an answer. Then I simply said I didn’t want to see him and to stay with his girlfriend. Still, he thought something was wrong with me. So… I ghosted him. But he kept up a conversation all by himself just fine for the next three days.

Talking to himself
Talking to himself

How NOT to get my Attention

I will turn my back on needy bitches.
I will turn my back on needy bitches.

Somehow I either attract super needy men or ones that are emotionally unavailable and nothing in between. This particular 40-something-year-old Football Coach I met earlier this year was super needy. We hung out once. Yes ONCE. No sex. We kind of made out but it wasn’t even memorable. There was something about him that I didn’t like, but I didn’t know what it was yet.

Football Coach asked me out to eat at a place where I can’t eat the food, so I politely declined. A day later he asked me out again, but I’d already made plans. (Also, I was still working tons of hours at my old job, so dating wasn’t much of an option for me.) When he started texting me late night hours one weekend, I was ready to be done with him. Obviously, he was out getting drunk when he was sending these messages. I guess I could tell at this point why I didn’t like him – he’s an ass and a BFB (big fucking baby) who can’t handle his alcohol.

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After sending this, Football Coach sent me a long ass text equivalent to a one-page, single spaced term paper explaining what he wants in a relationship and thought we could have “something” together. I still can’t figure out why hanging out just ONE time could have led him to believe that suddenly we were in a relationship. I never bothered to answer him back, because I felt that by initiating more contact would make him continue to bother me, and I was in no mood.

The Guy with the Tic Tac Dick

My hands are bigger than his.
My hands are bigger than his.

Another blind date setup happened earlier this year. My friends (a couple) had a new roommate they thought I’d be interested in meeting. Their reasoning was this: he’s younger than me (35), rides a Harley, has a stable job, has tattoos, and is a fun and nice guy. Mmmkay. I saw some of his pics on Facebook so I had a better idea of what I was dealing with. He wasn’t bad, maybe a little nerdy (fine by me), seemed like fun in his pics.

The first time I met him, my friends had invited me over for a BBQ. There was chaos all around, so that made it difficult for conversation. But so far, he seemed nice. I ended up leaving when a couple of people there were arguing and I wanted no part of it. A day or so later, he contacted me that he’d like to hang out sometime and get to know each other better when things weren’t so dramatic. Okay, cool.

A couple of weeks later, he came to my place, we had some drinks and conversation. He seemed like a pretty smart guy, motivated, and had some interesting stories. We discussed doing things together – motorcycle rides, kayaking, hiking, etc. – things that would be nice to do with another person. We saw each other a few more times after that, but (in hindsight) it was because my friend arranged it (i.e. meeting them at a restaurant, them cooking dinner, etc.). He made jokes about himself, saying things like his dick was the size of a Tic Tac. When I asked why he would say something like that, he said he didn’t want buyer’s remorse. I didn’t take him seriously.

At some point, he mentioned that he’s great at massages… and I am a sucker for them, so of course I wanted to see what this was all about. Surprisingly, he wasn’t lying when he said he’s great at massages. Then his hands started wandering. That’s when I noticed how small they were. Like Trump hands but smaller. And small fingers. Of course, by now I’m wondering what else is small.

My back was to him while he was still rubbing my shoulders and now my chest. He started kissing me on the back of the neck and it went from there. To be honest, there isn’t much of anything hot and heavy to write about for this post on this particular guy, because he was an awful kisser and had a small dick. Tic Tac dick was probably the only thing he hadn’t lied about besides the massage bragging. Sex was awful (for me), but he seemed to enjoy it.

I wasn’t interested in a relationship with Tic Tac dick anyway, but I didn’t mind being friends and having someone around to do activities with. Suddenly, I’d stop hearing from Tic Tac out of nowhere, then weeks or so later, he’d text me out of the blue. This went on and off for a couple of months. Now here’s the kicker that my friends conveniently “forgot” to mention – he was newly out of a relationship… new as in the week before I met him, which is why he was their roommate. Are you shitting me? I knew that this would go nowhere, because there were small children in the picture, not to mention his ex lived about a mile from me. I just assumed he was going back to his ex during the times I wouldn’t hear from him.

After not hearing from him for several months, I received another text from Tic Tac wanting to hang out and give me a massage. By then I’d caught on to his pattern of bullshit, so I thought fine, a massage would be great. He came over, gave me a massage, I could tell he was expecting more, I yawned and said I’m tired, and he left.

A few weeks later, I found out from my friends that while Tic Tac was at my house giving me a massage, they’d kicked him out of their house, he had a live-in girlfriend that he was supposedly engaged to and was fighting with (did I mention she was also his employee?). I sent him a text asking (and hoping she was checking his phone) about his relationship status and did he want to come over and give me another massage. He refused to answer. In fact, he was such a big pussy that he never answered me again. Turns out he’s another huge liar and a player, even with small hands and a Tic Tac dick.

Apparently, he’d talked shit about me to my friends, including sexual details about me, which I thought was inappropriate unless you live in a frat house. My female friend said he’s a disgusting pig and a player. I couldn’t understand how, because now that I knew him for what he was, he had nothing to offer AND was horrible in bed. Who wants that?? Not me!

My First Blind Date

I guess he was into handcuffs.
I guess he was into handcuffs.

When I was in my twenties, I entered a contest at a club in Miami (that’s another blog entry in itself), where I met Lissa for the first time. We’ve been friends ever since, but back then I didn’t realize the extent of her bad sense of judgment when it came to men. I should have known when Lissa hooked me up on a blind date with a guy that she claimed was a millionaire. I had no idea what this man looked like or anything about him. He had a foreign name that sounded similar to asshole, he was a businessman and “had a lot of money,” as she put it. I’d never been out with anyone that “had a lot of money,” so I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

She told me to pack a suitcase. I was like huh??? She said to pack a suitcase, and bring a really nice cocktail dress. She wouldn’t tell me what was going on until I made her, because I damn sure wasn’t going to be pimped out to a strange man overnight. Lissa confessed he was planning on flying us to New York for dinner. New York??? That seemed a little extreme to me, especially for a blind date. I told her I didn’t feel comfortable with that at all, that I know nothing about this man, and I’m not flying anywhere. Instead, I agreed to meet him at his house on the water, we’d go to dinner and then a helicopter ride. Sounded fine to me.

I arrived at his house, which was pretty much a mansion, or at least it was to me. When he greeted me, I was shocked at how absolutely 100% I was NOT attracted to him, but I gave it a chance anyway. We went to dinner at an Italian restaurant and then on the helicopter ride, which was really cool. Still, I wasn’t feeling it with this guy at all. We went back to his house and had a couple of drinks. He said I could stay the night in his guest room. Okay. So I attempt to go to sleep. I could tell the sheets hadn’t been changed, which grossed me out. Then things got really weird.

Now this was before everyone had cell phones, so I had no way to communicate with anyone or to scream at my friend for setting me up with this situation. The guy was a total weirdo. I could hear him pacing back and forth, back and forth for hours. I wasn’t sure if he was snorting coke or what. He came into the room and lay down on the bed next to me. I cringed. I pretended to be asleep. I know he wanted to get it on, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. I just wanted to get the fuck out, but I wanted to be sober enough to do it. At some point, I didn’t care if I had alcohol in my system or not – I was ready to get the hell out of there and never look back.

I grabbed my shit and hauled ass out of there. He was still up and around, asking why I was leaving. I made some excuse that I couldn’t sleep (which was true) and I needed to feed my cats or something.

Fast forward years later… this guy winds up in the local news for miscellaneous things, including beating his girlfriend. So not only is he disgusting to look at, his personality sucks and he’s a woman beater. Ugh.

I never let Lissa hook me up ever again.

 

Aunt Paula’s Blind Date Setup

I would stomp him with these spike heels.
I would stomp him with these spike heels.

I really hate when people try to set me up with someone they “think” I’ll like. I’ve already told my friends and family please don’t, because usually their pickings are worse than my own. The most recent incident was my Aunt Paula trying to set me up with a contractor doing something at her house. (Here is where I should state Aunt Paula’s taste in men is pretty awful, so I take her words with a grain of salt in that aspect.)

Aunt Paula tells me this guy is close to my age (he’s older), is good at his job (construction type of work), has a great personality, a lot of energy and is good looking. I said okay, send me a photo and his name so I can check him out. Not bad in his photos, but his Facebook page says he’s been in a relationship for the last year and a half. I tell her this, she relays the message, he says no he’s single. I say bullshit… because no one keeps “in a relationship” as their Facebook status when they’re truly single. Still, she insists he doesn’t know what that is about. Oh, but I do, I tell her, because I’ve been through this before with liars. She has a tendency to believe everything a man will tell her instead of looking at plain, hard facts.

Over the next few weeks, Aunt Paula is bugging the shit out of me to please meet this guy, even if we just become friends. “Sorry,” I tell her, “I don’t have time for men in relationships or newly out of them. Plus, he lives over an hour away from me. No time for that.”

About two weeks later I needed to pick up a book Aunt Paula had for me. I stopped by, and coincidentally, Contractor shows up before I could leave. First impression: NO.

Besides the fact that Contractor looked better in his photos than in person, his “energy” was more on the level of someone with ADHD. He actually reminded me a lot of Skinny Leg Guy. He wouldn’t shut the hell up, couldn’t focus on the work he was there to do, his “jokes” were slightly on the offensive side, and he was too touchy-feely for me. He immediately made sexual references to things and implied “we will” have sex. He put his arm around my waist, tried hugging up to me, and basically did everything “wrong” – all the while excusing himself that he’s just a jokester. And the biggest part of this “catch”? I smelled alcohol on him.

Aunt Paula kept insisting that Contractor was a nice guy and seemed like fun. So I had to remind her that she’s been married to the same dud (yes dud, not dude!) for the last 25 years, which I’m sure would make any man seem like a lot of fun.

“Seriously, Aunt Paula,” I told her, “I couldn’t even hang out with this guy as a “friend” for more than a few minutes, because he’s already drained me of my energy and patience. If you like him so much, you date him, but no thank you!”

So far she’s left me alone about him, but I have a feeling I’m going to hear more later.

Work vs Private Life as a Cam Girl

My boobs are real during private and work hours.
My boobs are real during private and work hours.

Writing this blog has been therapeutic. It’s allowing me to remind myself of the mistakes of my past and the patterns that keep emerging. It also reminds me the importance of keeping the balance between my work and personal endeavors, which are often combined.

One of the things that I deal with on a daily basis is men that I personally know asking me tons of personal questions and expecting me to send them photos and/or vids for free, taking both private and work time away from my activities. When I’m in the mood, I might give in, but for them to expect it kind of pisses me off. I am charging strange men for the same thing, so what makes these guys think they’re so special? This is one of the things I am changing about myself… limiting my time with freeloaders that won’t even offer to take me out on a real date. Not only is it another reminder of how selfish people can be, it also turns me off. And working in this field, I need to be turned on as much as possible. 🙂

Since I work from home, my private and work life are also intertwined here. I live in a place about the size of a shoebox, which worked fine when I was working out of the home. But now I’m feeling the squeeze with very little space to conduct shows, store items that are auctioned off, and my “office space” creating a mess in my living room. Between the lighting I use for camming and the desk area full of paperwork, I don’t exactly like inviting people over, because it just seems too crowded and messy now, and I don’t always have time to break down everything and hide it. So I’m considering a move within the next six months to a year, depending on how my financial situation works out with this gig.

And here’s another dilemma: telling people what I actually do for a living. The other job that cut my hours hasn’t needed me at all for the last two months. (This was no surprise, which is why I started working in the adult industry – cannot rely on employers anymore!) I’ve always managed to do multiple jobs anyway, so I come up with things to tell people – photo editing and writing projects (which is all true), and I leave it at that.

My family knows nothing about this, and I don’t feel I need to tell them a thing until I start making a really decent, steady income. A handful of my guy friends know, some of which have been helpful. Other than that, I’ve only been able to tell one of my female friends. I’m pretty sure the rest would feel differently about me and look down upon me for promoting “porn” – which is something most of them have complained about with their husbands. So I can’t exactly say ummm yeah, I’m doing something that you absolutely hate your husband looking at. I do feel that at some point, I’m going to be discovered either by someone that knows and feels the need to out me or perhaps recognizes me. I’m not sure I’m ready for that to happen yet, but when it does, I’m going to use it to my advantage.

Army Guy – Part 3

Yes, I will have a blast selling these panties. ;)
Yes, I will have a blast selling these panties. 😉

Army Guy – Part 1
Army Guy – Part 2

I’m a zero bullshit type of person, which is why I’m easy to get along with. I know what I want, say what I want, and most people appreciate that. Too bad I can’t say the same for other people.

After Army Guy’s little hissy fit over not getting his way, I was like WTF… we’d just had a conversation that neither of us wanted a relationship nor had time for one. We’d only been out ONCE on an actual date at that point and seen each other twice. I didn’t know whether he was taking things out on me that was happening at his house, but I certainly didn’t appreciate it, nor did I deserve it. That type of response will cause me to start building a wall and push me away for good. I felt that he was sabotaging what little was left, so he said he wanted to see me in person to talk about it, since texting can cause confusion.

When he arrived at my place, I was pretty tense from it all. We gave each other a long hug, and he apologized. (This is where I’m putting things together.) Remember earlier when I said his response was “she takes things too personal”? Well, now the story is she’s banging someone else at the house, and he felt disrespected. Okay, understandable, so why did it take him coming over to tell me that? I mean, if we’re being honest with each other here, so why not have this disclosure to begin with?

Army Guy is a charmer, and I couldn’t resist kissing him. But that’s really all I was ready to do. Then he started pawing at me and going a lot farther than I was ready for. I had to tell him to slow down a few times. I could tell he just wanted to fuck me and leave again… which is exactly what happened. Then I was pissed at myself for allowing it.

And then a storm hit – both literally and figuratively – and I was out of power for nearly a week. On a Friday he’d asked how I was doing, and he wanted to see me on Saturday. I thought that “maybe” he’d at least offer to bring me a hot meal, but I never heard from him until five days later. By then I was pretty stressed out dealing with my situation (junk food, no ice, cold showers, no sleep, zero power, feeling gross). I’d had way too much time alone in the dark to think about life and how I wanted to live it and what types of people I want in it, so I blew him off, because I was pissed. I was starting to feel like I was almost dealing with another Big Liar.

Army Guy then claimed he’d been trying to call me for 3 days (LIE!!!) so I sent him a screenshot of my phone calls… showing just one call from him the day prior. Of course, he couldn’t argue with that, so he changed the subject. There were just too many red flags now. Between his nondisclosure of things and selfish pursuits, I felt I was being played. (Oh yeah, and did I mention that while he was giving me a massage once, he started telling me about a married woman that wanted to see him again? Not exactly the greatest timing, dear.) I also remembered that he’d contacted me six months prior to this arrangement, prior to his deployment, wanting to meet up. Putting two and two together again, I realized he had been living with this other woman, because he told me they were living together before he deployed – and when he came back, she’d been fucking her ex.

I sent him a text saying this thing between us isn’t going to work. I had no intentions of seeing him again, because I didn’t want to hear anymore bullshit lies, manipulations, and I certainly wasn’t going to allow him to treat me like I had a revolving door. I expected him to either agree or at least ask me why. Instead, he decided to make it ugly and act like a big fucking baby (BFB) not getting his way. Total turnoff!

The following day I awoke to text messages starting at 7 a.m. He was going ballistic: “thanks for breaking up with me by text like a 16 y/o.” Umm, okay. Then more insults saying I was a shitty lay anyway, blamed me for us not getting together, sarcastically said good luck with the panty business (although when he was getting his way he was FULLY supportive! 😉 ), called me inconsiderate for not telling him in person, blah blah blah. I honestly didn’t think it mattered how I told him, since this wasn’t a relationship to break up anything except a convenient lay for him.

I was in no mood to argue with someone that was acting like a BFB. In fact, while he was bombarding my phone with these shitty messages, I was reading them out loud to the Norwegian guy I’d hooked up with the night before. After the shitty lay comment, the Norwegian told me to tell him that I’m a great lay. So I did, then I blocked Army Guy for good.

I’m sure he’s still reading my blogs hoping for his claim to fame that he fucked a hot MILF/cougar and still probably jerks off thinking about it. Oh yeah, and he’s still following me on Instagram. 😉

The end.

 

 

Army Guy – Part 2

I loved him between my legs.
I loved him between my legs.

Army Guy – Part 1

On the date with Army Guy, I informed him of my blog and camming, which are completely divergent from my former career. He seemed really cool with it, supportive, perhaps wanted to participate. (Later on, he did participate in cam chat, making lots of viewers jealous. It was a huge turn-on!)

Anyway… back to the date. I was hot, horny, and ready to fuck. We eventually made our way back to my house, starting on the couch with a nightcap and a really heavy make-out session that didn’t take long to move onto the bed.

Army Guy went down on me, and I realized he’d had some practice since I’d seen him last. He was definitely better than before, although still needed some fine tuning, because he seemed a little too aggressive/excited. His fingers were a little rough, and I had to keep reminding him to slow down. Also, at times something about the angle of his tongue literally rubbed me the wrong way. (I’m sure that women reading this can somehow relate.) But I did manage to teach him how to make me cum. And oh my god… he had two fingers inside of me thumping while he was eating my pussy like he hadn’t eaten dinner earlier. I came hard, but I was ready to fuck, because his cock turned me on.

Army Guy had the perfect fucking cock. His dick was probably a good six inches AND thick. I really, really liked sucking him off. I got so horny doing it that I would almost cum, but we both wanted to fuck – and fuck HARD. My perfect position with him was straddling him while I rode him on top, my clit rubbing all over his shaft, then leaning down toward him and shoving my tits in his mouth and rubbing my clit on the area above his dick, his dick shoved all the way inside of me. Apparently, we both liked it a little rough in that department. (To be honest, just writing this is making me wet as hell!) I have some pretty good Kegel skills, so just by doing certain positions and tightening, we managed to both cum at the same time. He started sending me text messages saying how great the sex was and how he jerked off thinking about it, how horny he was and how he couldn’t wait to fuck me again. (Remember those words.)

I saw Army Guy two more times after that night. I honestly believe he didn’t just come to “see me”, because he wasn’t around for long: we had sex, and he’d leave. The first time, I just figured it was timing. I had already told him I didn’t want a “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” situation, and we both agreed we didn’t want an actual relationship. He expressed that he wanted to take me out on his bike and do actual dates. (I honestly don’t expect anyone in his 20s to want a relationship at all, much less with a woman probably closer to his mother’s age.) However, I do expect to be respected and not lied to. After all, I’m offering him my company and time, and allowing him in my home. (Plus, it wasn’t like he was the only guy trying to hang out with me, so I did have some other choices if I felt the need. I didn’t.)

Then things just got weird. Weird as in – for whatever reason (intuition), I felt the need to ask if he lived alone. (I don’t know why I never asked, but I did ask why he’d moved 45 minutes away from the last place he lived – and his answer was it was a better quality place. Okay, whatever, sounded plausible I guess.) He informed me that he did have a roommate. Again, I “felt” the need to ask if this was a girlfriend. His answer: “No, but she’s someone I used to sleep with.”

Okay, now things were starting to get into perspective. The more questions I asked at different times, the more I started noticing different answers or avoidance. Total bullshit. With the newfound information that Army Guy was still living with his ex, I started putting up my guard. I was tired of being the rebound girl and told him so. He stated that he and his ex had been over for a few months, but he was just trying to find another place to live. Okay, I’ve been through that myself, so I get it.

Then something happened with a text “miscommunication” that I’m unsure was an actual miscommunication at all. Apparently, he was angry at his live-in ex over something, and the answer he’d given me was “she takes things too personal.” Okay, no further details. Told him I was doing some blog writing, he says he’s excited about reading it until he asked me if it was about him. No, however, the beginning almost sounds like him (Tattooed Cub), but the physical description is different.

Unexpectedly, Army Guy gets pissy, and text messages go from zero to nearly psycho in two seconds saying, “Yeah I’m fat, he’s not? Terrific”. I’m like WTF… I never said anything to imply that. All I said was Tattooed Cub is heavily tatted, shorter in height, and bearded.

So he sends: “My night just did a fucking nose dive so I’m gonna go before I lose it,” and his messages didn’t get much better than that.

I had no idea what he was talking about. I said what do you mean? What happened? I thought something happened at his house. So how is this my fault?

His response: “Comes a time when it would be nice to see you write about the guy you are actually with and not all the ex hookups. Just food for thought.”

Really? Suddenly, I got the feeling that he was only in this for his own personal selfish gratification. Being in this career field, I can’t have anyone acting jealous (prior to this he claimed he doesn’t get jealous – another lie) and ruining my chi. It just can’t happen. Besides, I thought, I have been single 15 of my adult years, so he can back the fuck off and wait his turn for me blogging about him. I hope he’s reading this now.

To Be Continued…

Army Guy – Part 1

Should have ran with these...
Should have ran with these…

A few years ago I met a really cute blue-eyed (yes another with blue eyes!) guy at a beer joint near my house. He seemed well spoken, intelligent, and mature for his ripe young age of 25. He’d served in the army, had just gone through a divorce, and was going to college. He told me about his time in the war in Afghanistan and had PTSD as a result of it.

We saw each other maybe a handful of times, always having sex, of course. It was okay, but once it got a little scary, because he thought that I liked to be choked while having sex (I don’t). At some point he had this really deranged look in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure if he was having a flashback or what the hell was going on. So I stayed away from him… for a while.

He contacted me a few months later and ended up staying the night after telling me he had tried working things out with an ex, which is why I hadn’t heard from him. (Go figure.) He had school the next day, I had work, but I couldn’t wait to get him out of my house. When I woke up with him there, I’d wished I had never allowed him over. I had started remembering that he was quick-tempered, and knowing he might have been mentally unstable, I knew I didn’t want to see him again. As I watched him leave, I told myself never again, and thought for a minute he looked sad and pathetic like Shrek trodding down my driveway.

I didn’t hear from him again for over a year, saying he was going to be deploying again soon, but at the time I was going on a date with someone else and not interested in Army Guy. Six months later, I get a text from him saying he’s back in town. I should have gone with my last memory of him leaving my driveway that one memorable morning, but gave him the benefit of the doubt, especially when he told me he was in a different state of mind than when I’d seen him last.

He asked me out on an actual date, so I said sure, why not? Army Guy picked me up on his motorcycle, and we had a really amazing time. I’d forgotten what it was like to be on an actual date with real, stimulating conversation. Plus, his eyes were mesmerizing, and I was really attracted to him much more so than I was the first time I met him. His kisses made me wet, and I knew we’d be fucking by the end of the night.

To be continued…

Taking Care of My Own Needs

If they don't like it, they can hit the road.
If they don’t like it, they can hit the road.

I read an interview today about Jennifer Lopez’s autobiography titled True Love, in which she talks about her failed relationships and marriages. Her disappointment came from giving too much of herself, giving into her partner’s wants and needs, instead of going for what she wanted and needed. I find myself falling into that situation time and time again.

This vicious cycle of giving instead of listening to my own needs probably stems from the way I grew up. I watched mothers around me give to men for years, even at times putting them before their children, because they feel their value somehow lies with making the man happy instead of themselves. Putting everyone first and neglecting my own needs was something I became conditioned to do, and it’s a really tough cycle to break if you’ve been doing it your entire life.

Looking back at past relationships, even if I didn’t want to have sex, I would do it anyway just to make the man happy. This type of behavior always causes resentment and misery, and it often results in the lack of sexual desire. Believe it or not, for a long time I didn’t want sex. In fact, I avoided it, because I viewed it as a boring chore rather than something pleasurable. It was because I kept giving into my partner’s needs and wants (not just sexually) rather than taking care of my own.

Even now, I find myself (and my friends remind me) that I give too much of myself too quickly, and I’m too trusting at first. I guess I just tend to like people more than they deserve. So after spending nearly a week without power from the storm, I have a different perspective of things… I’m putting me first, and anyone that can’t handle it can hit the road.

Tattooed Cub – Part 2

I loved when he buried his face here.
I loved when he buried his face here.

Tattooed Cub – Part 1

Tattooed Cub was the first (and only) cub of my time to seriously hang out with me. We never went on any actual “dates”, and I always hosted, but it was nice to have someone to have a meal with, watch a movie with, or (of course) make out with. We lasted off and on for a few months, but he seemed really unreliable, which ruined it. He worked a lot, which was great, but every time he’d make plans, he’d either have to cancel, or he’d be so late I was ready to go to sleep. A few times his excuse was that he’d fallen asleep. I began to wonder if it was more than just work keeping him busy. It got to the point that I had to tell him I was no longer going to make plans with him if he was going to stand me up. That was pretty much the end of that.

Every few months, Tattooed Cub sends me a text asking how I am and telling me how much I turn him on. But… BUT!!! I noticed he was obviously dating someone, then blowing me off, then coming back to me. That doesn’t exactly work for me. He has a girlfriend now, and although I’d love to hang out with him, I’m not going to be “that woman” shagging taken men on the side. But I still do get wet thinking about the fun we had while it lasted. 😉

 

 

Just Some Thoughts…

Closing a chapter
Closing a chapter

In times of a crisis, you quickly learn who truly cares about you – who sticks around to hear you out, to give you a hand, to sit with you while you weather a storm, and to help you take care of the aftermath. These are times when, if the person you’ve been having sex with isn’t around for you, you begin to reconsider the arrangement. Because: if you’re giving a part of yourself to someone and not even getting so much as an offer to cuddle or hug during difficult times, you feel undervalued. And that’s not a very good feeling – and certainly not worth the exchange of a good orgasm.

 

Tattooed Cub – Pt. 1

I straddled him on my cougar couch.
I straddled him on my cougar couch.

Is there such a thing as a tattoo fetish? Because tattooed men really fucking turn me on. Big time!

A few years ago when I was newly single, I got onto Tinder and started swiping mostly to the left. One of the few right swipes included a cutie that was heavily tattooed, had a motorcycle (woo hoo!), and seemed like he had his shit together for his age. He was 26, a war veteran, and had just gone through a divorce. He also had one of those long beards that I wasn’t too fond of at the time, but I quickly got over that.

We communicated for a bit and decided to meet. When Tattooed Cub showed up, I wasn’t expecting him to be just about the same height as me, but I blew that off, because he had sweet blue eyes, and he was in pretty good shape. And those tattoos were making me wet!

We had a few drinks and ended up on my infamous make-out cougar couch, kissing passionately. I think he was a bit nervous, so I took the lead with my cat-like reflexes, pawing at his chest and pulling off his shirt. Da-damn! More tats! I was about to cum in my silky black thong just looking at them. I knew I loved tatted men, but I hadn’t realized how much tattoos turned me on like this. I wanted to maul him.

Wearing a skirt, I straddled him on the couch and grinded my hips against him. He unbuttoned my shirt and started feeling my tits, taking off my bra, sucking on my nipples. I pressed them into his face, his beard softly tickling me. I continued grinding on him harder, feeling his hard dick throbbing in his jeans.

We were getting sweaty, and the small couch wasn’t going to work for what was about to come (no pun intended), so I decided it was time to relocate into my air-conditioned bedroom. Tattooed Cub lifted my skirt and pulled off my thong. His soft beard tickled as he kissed up my legs and between my thighs, which actually felt nice. His tongue made its way to my wet pussy, circling around my clit, teasing me and sucking me. I was so turned on by him and his tattoos… I just wanted him inside of me.

Reaching down, I unzipped his jeans and pulled out his dick. It was a nice average length and girth, so I knew it could pleasure me without hurting me. I stuck his dick in my mouth and deep-throated for a few minutes. Knowing he was about to cum, I stopped and got on top of him like I was a cougar attacking her prey. I held his hands down and fucked him fast and hard. It only took a few minutes before we both came at the same time. All the while, I was staring at his tattoos, because they made me cum harder.

Tattooed Cub and I lay in my bed for a while sweaty and satisfied. I knew he wanted to leave, which was fine with me, because we both had to be up early the following day. It wouldn’t be our last time together… and I decided it was time for me to get more of my own tattoos.

Camping Trip From Hell

I could take him down.
I could take him down.

Last night I posted about being a rebound girl with Big Liar. I wanted to continue this story and be done with it in two posts, because I have much sexier things to blog about. (I just want to keep you all hanging. 😉 )

Big Liar eventually apologized for hurting me, which was a huge surprise, because he’s not one for admitting wrongdoing. I think he did it for his own selfish reasons, because he needed me to do things for him since no one else was around. Yes, I was a sucker. But at the same time, I needed the work he was providing me, because my regular job hours had been cut so drastically that I was in survival mode. It was either that or have no money for groceries. Shitty choices.

At some point, Big Liar and I went on a completely miserable camping trip. Why I agreed to this, I don’t know. Perhaps because we were on normal speaking terms again, I hadn’t met anyone else at that point, and I hadn’t been camping since college. It sounded like fun – plus, he was supposed to be “experienced” and told me about all of the fun stuff we’d do. (I’ll remind you here that he had no driver’s license, so I had to drive his truck.)

Thankfully, I know enough about surviving in the woods to take necessities that he didn’t – like plenty of water and food and eating utensils and baby wipes and blankets. He had two tents, one of which didn’t stand up, a couple of blowup mattresses that didn’t hold air very well, hunting rifles, a knife, and a dead flashlight.

Big Liar’s idea of camping was making a fire in 85-degree weather and sitting around drinking, beginning at 8 a.m. I told him that’s not camping – that’s what homeless people do. And then I laughed hysterically, because instinctively, by then I knew I was fucked.

Big Liar literally drank all day while I found things to do around the campsite, like cook and clean, take a walk, look at the lake and read a book. I was really bored and disappointed, because I felt like I was by myself. In fact, I thought to myself, I could have had a better time by myself and have been way better prepared had I known this would happen. He was so wasted by dinner he threatened me when I tried to make him stop drinking “my” beer (I had 4 for the entire trip, he had beer, Jack, and Fireball). I was scared for a minute, because it was then that I realized here I was alone with this ass (absolutely no one was left on the camping grounds), he had weapons, he was wasted, and since he’d never shown any signs of violence prior, I’m not exactly sure what he’s capable of… but I knew that I was stronger, have better balance and sober, and if I really had to, I’d kick the shit out of him and throw his ass in the fire. Fifteen seconds after he threatened me he remembered nothing about it. I knew I had to leave, if not for my safety, then for my sanity.

Eventually, he passed out around 7 p.m. and snored like a wild hog. The fire went out, hardly any firewood was left, and the flashlight was dead. I was using my phone’s flashlight to get around. This is when I took this perfect opportunity to look at Big Liar’s phone. I wouldn’t normally have looked at anyone’s phone, but I felt something was up, and he’d already lied to me more than once. Besides, he’d left me by myself with nothing else to do in the dark. What was a girl to do all alone?

Oh. My. God. I was being so played! Big Liar had been sexting several other women, getting blowjobs from his 66-year-old divorce attorney’s secretary (in return for reduced fees!), begging other women for nude photos and trying to take other ones out to dinner (even though he couldn’t drive). I had been the sucker driving his ass all over town to his court appointments and whatever else he needed, cooking for him and whatever else he had me doing to help him out. Then I saw “babysitter porn” (the legal kind, but nevertheless) and I about lost it, because of the age of his kids. It was sickening. My head was spinning and aching.

I was shaking as I was reading through it all… and Big Liar snored loudly throughout the night. I packed my shit, took his keys, and drove away, leaving him there… I got to the gate and it was locked for the night, and I didn’t have the code on the lock to leave. All I wanted to do was go home, but I was stuck. I had to go back, attempted to stay in his truck and charge my phone because I was using it as a flashlight and it had died – and then the fucking truck battery died! I truly felt like I was in my own horror movie. It was pitch black, the fire was mostly out, and I couldn’t even see where to squat to take a piss.

Everything in my life became crystal clear to me at that point. It was like a reawakening, an epiphany… I didn’t sleep the entire night but pretended to, got up shortly after daybreak and said, “Let’s go, I have to go into work today,” and began throwing everything into the bed of the truck. Big Liar refused to pack, refused to leave, had already started drinking at 7 a.m., somehow had jumped the truck battery, and had hidden the truck key. I found an area in the park that had an outlet to charge my phone, called my boss to pick me up, which was embarrassing, but she understood. All I wanted to do was go home.

That evening, Big Liar “yelled” at me by text that I left him there and no one was around to drive him. Boo-hoo! He claimed he had to drive himself back all alone without a license and could have been pulled over. Again, boo-hoo! I’d wished he’d gotten pulled over, because he was drunker than shit driving down a main highway on an already drunken driving suspended license, so he’d have deserved it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt anyone else. After that, I ignored him.

Two months later, I found out Big Liar been trying to work things out with his ex-wife (by then they were divorced) around the holidays. He came by my house after the holidays to “say hi” one night when he was wasted, and when I asked him about them getting back together he said it wasn’t working out. We’d both been drinking, we made out, because I was just stupid and weak… No sex, because he can’t get it up.

A week later, I got an email from his ex-wife that she wanted to talk, because “we may be dealing with the same habitual liar” and that she had given him the benefit of the doubt and they were trying to work things out. I apologized and told her everything I knew, and Big Liar blamed me for everything, claiming I made up lies about all of the other women (even though I had physical evidence), that somehow I had hacked into his phone and made it look like he sent those messages to other women and that I was obsessed with him. Mmm-kay.

When Big Liar unexpectedly stopped by my house drunk a few weeks ago (while I was broadcasting on MFC no less!), I refused to open the door and immediately told his ex, because she and I still talk. Unfortunately, he still lives down the street… and got his license back the other day. I highly suspect another driving under the influence arrest will happen in the near future.

I want no part of his loser ass whatsoever. The end.

Being the Rebound Girl

I told him to kiss my ass.
I told him to kiss my ass.

For whatever reason, I tend to attract guys that are newly single or somewhat undecided about their single status. It didn’t matter much when I first became single, but it’s been a good three years now, so obviously I’m in a different frame of mind. Now whenever I meet someone I make it a point to ask when their last relationship was… and then I move on, because 99% of the time, it’s within the past few months.

Last year I dated someone off and on for several months that I’d gone to high school with but had never known. I say off and on, because neither of us wanted a relationship, he had nothing to offer me as a man, and he consistently pissed me off. I started out doing work for him as a barter, but was never paid in full. He basically worked very little, drank a lot, had no driver’s license, and 4 kids that I later learned hated him. Yes, he was a loser, but I can also be an idiot.

The whole thing was more of a convenience, since he lived down the street (literally down the street – I can see his driveway from mine). I also did some manual labor work for him for which he ended up paying me well (he’s lazy, so I could do twice the amount of work as he), and I was also his driver (he paid me) since he couldn’t drive. So that part seemed like a win/win for us both.

We did have a lot of fun together, however, at first. We went boating a lot, which is one of my favorite things to do… and had a lot of great oral sex. He is probably one of the best at oral that I’ve ever been with. There were times that he’d make me cum four or five times in one session. Oral and kissing were the only things he was good at, because he either always had whiskey dick or came in 30 seconds… and I really needed penetration. While I enjoy oral and kissing, I need a good hard fucking often.

I eventually realized he was probably the biggest liar I’d ever met (so I will refer to him as “Big Liar” from now on). Even though we weren’t in a “relationship” it seemed we had a mutual understanding to not sleep around with other people while we were together. Honesty was not his policy whatsoever; he was sneaky, and the more I learned, the more I began to distance myself. One evening I was bitching to my bartender friend about him. Another woman was sitting next to me and started asking details…

Does he live here and do this for a living? Yes and yes. His name is Big Liar? Yes.

She looked at me and was really nice about it and said that she was also going through a divorce and had briefly started seeing him. I thought how and when, because I live down the street and would have noticed another vehicle. When she told me the dates, that’s when I figured out it was when I was out of town visiting my family. She showed me text messages he’d sent her in those recent weeks while he was still with me – he was trying to hook up, but she was no longer interested. I was fuming, but not at her. I thanked her for telling me everything, and we’ve been friends ever since. (Of course, that really bit him in the ass! 😀 )

I ended up leaving and driving straight to his house to tell him what a piece of shit liar he was. He acted like he didn’t care one single ounce about my feelings. I left angry and in tears, hurt and confused.

But the shitty part was – I was still doing work for him and needed the money badly, so I had to continue dealing with him.

To be continued…

 

The Forbidden – Part 1

Lick me
Lick me

Someone I have always longed for, someone forbidden… and you finally came to me with wet lips on mine, hand in my hair, hand down my spine, hand slowly sliding to my ass…

Turning me over and gliding your lips up and down my spine, kissing my tattoos like no one else has done before, causing chills of ecstasy… My nipples harden, you reach your head around and grab one of them in your mouth… I feel your soft hair against the back of my arm… My back arches, pressing myself against your hardening cock.

You flip me back around, kissing my nipples, working your way down my belly… Your tongue on my clit, circling and whirring me into a bliss. I ache for you to be inside of me. I want to moan in my normal tone, but not so that anyone but us can hear.

I am amazed that this is happening. So wrong, yet feels so right.

So forbidden.

Bawh-ston – Part 4

I wanted to stomp on his face.
I wanted to stomp on his face.

Bawh-ston – Part 1
Bawh-ston – Part 2
Bawh-ston – Part 3

Once I realized I was being played, I was not a happy camper. Bawh-ston was avoiding me for what? It didn’t make sense to me, because I know I hadn’t done anything wrong. When someone spends nearly every night with you and suddenly stops without any explanation, it just makes you go hmmmm… Not to mention, it was a blow to my self-esteem after a difficult divorce, because at this point my ex was in a new full-blown relationship.

The following week was St. Patrick’s Day, and I knew that Bawh-ston would be enjoying the festivities instead of paying me back the money he owed. He didn’t even invite me, but instead met his friend out (Samira saw him). I wanted to show up at the bar and give him a piece of my mind, but I was coming down with the flu and felt like complete shit.

Instead, I called and told him how I felt about the way he was treating me. He said I didn’t need an invitation, to meet him at the bar. I reminded him that he hadn’t spoken to me all week and that he still owed me money. He said he didn’t have the money this week (but he could still afford to drink at the bar). I could hear loudness in the background and him having a good time for himself. I was furious and hung up. I was so furious I called him right back and told him that I was going out with my friends and maybe I’ll meet a real man. He didn’t know I was sick, so he must have believed me, because he said go right ahead. I couldn’t believe he acted like he didn’t care. So while he was out drinking green beer, I was downing Nyquil, feeling miserable in many ways.

Less than three months later, Bawh-ston is “in a relationship” according to Facebook. I thought it was a joke, because he had just turned 44 years old, and this girl was only like 22 – the same age as his daughter for which he was still paying back child support! Nope, not a joke, because I’d learned they moved in together. So I called him up again asking for the money he owed me. His response?

“You want me to pay you for a date we went on together?” And he laughed about it. Talk about the wrong thing for him to do to someone he jilted and ripped off! I told him that he was a “looo-sah” of a man that had to have women pay for him.

To get him back, I waited about a month or so and had a friend send him random nude photos from her Tracfone saying she wanted to see him again. He actually fell for it for a little while until she sent some that didn’t have matching tattoos. (He still doesn’t know who was behind it. 😉 )

I learned earlier this year that Bawh-ston and the girl had a baby. Better her than me! Finally… the END of Bawh-ston!

Bawh-ston – Part 3

Wishing I was on the back of a Harley...
Wishing I was on the back of a Harley…

Bawh-ston Part 1

Bawh-ston Part 2

Bawh-ston and I ended up dating for less than three months. During those months, he was spending the night at my place probably five times a week. He had been living with a roommate and when the lease was up he moved in with his cousin, supposedly looking for his own place.

I cooked dinner for us (I paid for groceries) most nights, sometimes breakfast on the weekends. And I’m not talking hamburger helper here. If you’ve seen me on cam in the kitchen, I cook up some pretty good stuff that’s not cheap. Once a week he would get takeout, usually Chinese or sushi. He took me on an actual date once during the entire time we dated to a sushi place and then his favorite bar (where we were introduced). He was the first guy I went out with in public since my separation/divorce, which had been about a year prior, so that was big for me. I managed to get him to help me do some things around the house, like mow the lawn (once) and “fix” things my slumlord didn’t do. One of the last things I got him to do was help me move into my new place.

Around the end of month two, Bawh-ston and I went to a concert. Since the tickets had to be purchased together online and I was the only one with a credit card, he said he’d pay me back in cash, buy dinner that evening and drive. Tickets were $160 each. He gave me $100 and promised to give me the rest next payday. I ended up making us steak dinner, driving, paying for parking, and buying my own $10 beer. He acted like a fucking douche the entire night, walking ahead of me and ignoring me and being pissy. I suppose it was because he had spent all of his money on beer and pot instead of being a man and doing what he promised. Either way, the entire thing really pissed me off, because not only did he screw me on promises, he was treating me like shit on top of it – and I knew I didn’t deserve that.

At the time, I had just started a new job and barely scraping by, so now this started to become an issue. I was newly divorced and in a lot of debt from that, moving, and being unemployed for 5 months. I definitely could not afford to foot the bill on a grown ass man!

Shortly after the concert incident, I texted Bawh-ston on a Saturday during a huge event in the city suggesting that instead of spending money (that I didn’t have), we could buy some beer and sit by the river. It was a beautiful day. He said he was having lunch at the bar. I knew that meant – “lunch” was going to end up being the rest of the day at the bar. He stopped answering my text messages altogether, so I was fuming, and I began to wonder if he’d met someone else. Samira saw him at the bar dancing around like a moron, so she recorded it and posted it to Facebook. He was by himself in a mostly empty bar.

Apparently, he was pissed at me for posting on Facebook earlier that week that I’d rather be on the back of a Harley than working that day. He took offense to that, because he doesn’t own a Harley, but instead of being a man about it, he chose to ignore me. Here we go, I thought, another fucking insecure asshole I’m dealing with here.

To be continued…

Bawh-ston – Part 2

(Continued from last post)

Thinking about his hard cock made my nipples hard.
Thinking about his hard cock made my nipples hard.

Since Bawh-ston had drank too much, I drove to my place, leaving his vehicle behind. There was no denying our mutual chemistry. We’d barely made it through the door without ripping each other’s clothes off, leaving a trail of jeans, shirts, boots, and lingerie. He had the softest lips and knew how to use them. (A great kisser always turns me on!) Had I known this before, I wouldn’t have waited so long to seduce him.

He was uncut, which was much more pleasurable for me, and his dick must have measured at least seven inches. I think we surprised each other at how much we really enjoyed one another. I mean, I knew the sex was going to be good, but I wasn’t expecting it to be that good. We spent hours in the bedroom before passing out – hours of fucking, sucking, and licking like porn stars.

Both of us had to be at work the next morning, so between a late night of drinking and amazing sex, we were both pretty exhausted. After dropping him off at his truck at the bar, I wasn’t expecting to hear back from him soon, if at all, figuring he was a player and a hookup. But I was wrong. He texted me that afternoon saying he’d had a good time and wanted to see me the following evening after work. Since this was about a week before the Christmas holiday and my first year living alone, I welcomed the company. We’d also had a cold winter, so having someone over that could help keep me warm was a plus.

We ended up enjoying each other’s company so much that we started seeing each other every day. For anyone that knows me, this is something really big for me. I’m the type of person that likes my space, and most guys annoy me if they hang around for too long or too often. We learned that we’d had a lot in common. I felt like he was the guy that I always wanted when I was in my 20s, but one of us would have broken the other’s heart. Unexpectedly, I didn’t spend Christmas alone. Bawh-ston ended up meeting some of my family (also really big for me), and they also liked him – even my gay cousin thought he was hot ;). But I had already told them I didn’t think this was going to be a permanent thing.

Although I really liked Bawh-ston, there were too many things that were deal breakers. One was the fact that he was 43 years old and didn’t have any motivation to better himself in the workplace. I later found out he didn’t even own a credit card, which would explain a lot. He had never been married, was still paying child support on his adult daughter, and he also had a roommate. He had zero motivation to do much of anything on his own unless I suggested it and showed him around. He had been living in my area for two years and hadn’t been anywhere except a few bars!

And then of course, the drinking. I hadn’t realized how bad the drinking was until he spent the night on a Friday and woke up on Saturday to pop a beer at 10 a.m., even before breakfast was served. I pretty much knew right then that this was going to be a huge issue for me, because my last relationship also had a drinking issue, and I wasn’t about to deal with it again. But like so many of us do, I continued with this relationship while it lasted. Again, I was vulnerable, probably somewhat lonely, and at the time he was a comfort pillow.

To be continued…

The Guy from Boston (Bawh-ston)

He made me so hot.
He made me so hot.

I should have gone with my first impression, but the combination of vulnerability and chemistry got in the way.

Bawh-ston was introduced to me by mutual bartender friends a couple of months prior to my final dissolution of marriage. My first impression? He was really good looking, around my age, and in pretty good shape. He had an attractive personality – he was humorous, friendly and easy to talk to, and seemed easy to get along with. But another first impression? He looks like an alcoholic, I thought.

Bawh-ston left with his friends, then maybe three weeks later we ran into each other at the same place while I was out with one of my fun cougar friends, Samira (who happens to fit the meaning of her name perfectly). Bawh-ston and I flirted heavily – so heavily to the point that I had my hand on his thigh and could feel his cock down his leg. Oh. My. God. Totally unexpected that he would have such a large cock. No wonder I was so attracted to this guy.

Unable to find Samira, I assumed she had to be to work early and left. For whatever reason (probably too much to drink), I thought Bawh-ston had left with another woman out the back door. I’ll still never really know to this day if that was the case or not, because later he denied it, saying he went outside to smoke weed. Apparently, he had come back inside the bar and saw that I’d left. I was probably pissed about the “other woman” that may or may not have existed, and so walked all the way home (probably two miles).

It turned out Samira had not left, but maybe was in the bathroom too long. I was drunk and stupid walking around a CVS asking something that I can’t remember, but probably something to do with Halloween makeup. My cell phone pics the following day chronicled my trip home past the tire shop and other random construction on the walkway. Thank goodness for cell phone cameras on drunk nights, right? I guess I was in CVS amusing myself by pressing the buttons on all of the mechanical Halloween props and filming them. Then for whatever reason, I’d decided that the tire shop was super interesting, because I took several (blurry) shots of it. Then there were pictures of orange flags in the ground for some construction job going on just before I got to my house. I don’t remember walking in the door.

Fast forward about two months later, days before the final decree, I ran into Bawh-ston again. This time was even better. We’d hashed out the last time we’d seen each other and the details of me leaving. We learned that we only lived about 1/4 of a mile away from each other. Super heavy flirtation began. And then we both decided that we wanted to fuck each other… right now.

So we left….

To be continued…

And There Are These Guys…

For anyone promoting themselves in the adult industry, social media is a great avenue to use. Of course in this type of business, getting numerous messages can be daunting. When I first started, I took the time to try to answer everyone, even if it was just with a smiley face. But when I started getting hundreds of friend requests, messages, etc. to sort through on each site (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram), it became so time consuming I just had to give up on it. I learned quickly that these aren’t ever going to be paying customers.

Some of them are really nice. Some not so much. Of course there are the unsolicited dick pics. Most are time wasters and freeloaders.

 

unnamed-8
Telling me all of the details… but not asking for anything.

 

unnamed-9
Freeloader.

 

Some are just huge pains in the asses that think they are entitled to my attention. Like this guy.

screen-shot-2016-09-11-at-8-15-30-pm
Douche.

 

Throwback: Slippery Argentinian

That's how I like to straddle.
That’s how I like to straddle.

Here’s a little throwback situation I was in.

Had a girl’s night out with too many drinks, met a 30-year-old Argentinian that I immediately knew I wanted. In other words, I wasn’t leaving without him. He had thick, short dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. Perfect teeth, sexy body… the type of guy I’d never have met in my 20s.

Now let me tell you what I don’t do – public display of affection. Locals know everyone, and I don’t like people knowing my business. But for some reason, I was so entranced with this hottie, I forgot my own rule and ended up making out with him in front of everyone before leaving in a cab and heading to my house. (I ended up paying for the cab.)

It didn’t take long before walking through the door to start back where we’d left off in the club. We basically tore each other’s clothes off and went at it. I had a brand new batch of condoms and we put one to use. The sex was totally hot. He liked me on top of him, which I prefer anyway, and we just pounded each other until we both came… and that didn’t take long for either of us. Then he said he had to pick his kids up clear across town in a few hours and needed to get his car. I ended up falling asleep, and when I woke up he was gone. We never exchanged numbers.

About three or four days later, something wasn’t right “down there”. I wasn’t worried about having any diseases, so I figured it’s probably just a regular women’s issue. Two more days later, and I wasn’t feeling so well. I brush it off to thinking I’m coming down with something or it’s hormonal. Then I started having dreams (two to be exact) about being pregnant. But I knew that was impossible. Finally, the issue came to a head.

Apparently, Mr. Argentina failed to inform me that the condom had slipped off during sex and was still inside of me. I couldn’t feel it way up there; I thought he’d flushed it. In the meantime, I had been playing with my toys and probably shoving it back up inside without even realizing it. I was just thankful I didn’t end up in the emergency room over it from toxic shock or something.

Once I discovered what had happened, I thought how in the fuck could a grown ass man not tell me the condom had fallen off? Embarrassment? Stupidity? Did he even know how to use one properly (given that he had been married for a while). I didn’t even have his phone number to remind him about what he did. I was pretty disgusted by the whole way it happened. It had never happened before, and it hasn’t happened since.

Clinger – Skinny Leg Guy – Part 2

Leave me alone while I work.
Leave me alone while I work.

If you haven’t read “Skinny Leg Guy” part 1 from yesterday, it will help you to understand this post better.

Once I dropped Skinny Leg Guy off at the skanky trailer park, I wasn’t sure I’d hear from him again. And I didn’t care. I hadn’t noticed until after he was gone that he’d used FOUR glasses plus a shot glass while he stayed for less than 12 hours. Then I noticed he’d left dust or dirt or something on my bed and on my floor. So between that and him leaving up my toilet seat, drinking vodka at 10 a.m…. I knew I was never inviting him over again. Fucking slob.

I went to my appointment, and while I was sitting there, my phone started blowing up with texts from him. This was on a Thursday afternoon. The messages were friendly, but bothersome, because I was trying to relax and get my monthly manicure and pedicure. Can’t exactly type when your hands are being occupied. By 6 o’clock that evening, he was trying to worm his way to come back to my house. I told him I had work to do and “maybe tomorrow” just to shut him up.

annoying texts

 

The texts continued. He was drinking with his cousin or uncle or someone and apparently was bored and sending stupid random shit. Again, I told him, “I haven’t been able to get any work done, because I keep getting text messages”. Now I was really annoyed. I texted him back at some point letting him know what a freaking mess he left at my place.

The following day, he texted me in the evening, and I told him I was busy working. I guess I answered him at some point at a very late hour, not realizing how late, because I’d been up working all night. I guess he got the message on Saturday morning, because his messages started up at 8 a.m., and before noon, he was “heading out to drink” with his cousin again. Lots of red flags here on the drinking.

He wanted to know when I was free again, I told him I had plans with my girlfriends and I was about to leave town in a couple of days. His messages continued throughout the day, I made more excuses, because I didn’t want him showing up at my house unexpectedly. At that point, I just had to ignore him.

blow me

annoying text

The last time he messaged me was at 4 a.m. And then I didn’t hear from him for a month. An entire month! And then I get this message… at wee morning hours again.

booty call text

I’m not answering him.