Panties & Vids for Sale

It’s been quite some time since I posted on here, and lots of things have happened since. Work has been sporadic until I begin a new job in two weeks. In the meantime, I just listed a bunch of video and panty auctions on ebanned.

 

If you’re having trouble viewing the auctions, it’s probably because you have to be logged in in order to see them. Here’s the list just in case:

 

Last Valentine’s Day

Sit on these lips.

Sit on these lips.

Last year on Valentine’s Day, I was single, as usual. I’m not one to go out looking for anyone on that occasion, but there was a band I wanted to see play at one of my hangouts. I ended up having a pretty good time and met a group of people that seemed likable. One of the group members piqued my interest for several reasons: he was retired military, looked ten years younger than his mid-40s age, and wasn’t from the area. Also, he’d been single for about a year and a half, so I knew he wasn’t on the rebound. From here on out, I will just refer to him as Horse Dick.

(**Note: First, let me explain about why I don’t like to date single guys from my area. Most of them have never even left the area and are mostly uneducated. Most do not take care of themselves and are somewhat lazy and have addictions. And many think that a woman’s place is not only in the kitchen but also should provide the main income. Just not my style.**)

After the group of us were hanging out and bar hopping, I ended up making out with Horse Dick in the middle of the street. His friends were amazed and saying we looked like two teenagers, because they’d never seen him act like this with anyone else during the time they’d known him. Horse Dick and I really hit it off unexpectedly, and he seemed so different from anyone else I’d met.

Sex was really awesome. He knew what to do with his hands and mouth, and he had one of the largest cocks I’d ever seen, hence the name Horse Dick. It was a little longer than the average length and super thick, perhaps a little too large for my tight pussy, because I was sore the following day. He was passionate and a great cuddler. I felt that I might not be able to get enough of this guy.

Since Horse Dick was retired, he had a lot of time on his hands, which I later realized became a problem. On the other hand, I had just started a very stressful high-security position at work that required a lot of seriousness and dedication. He was texting me throughout the day, which really helped me get through my days, and we couldn’t wait to see each other. Within the first week we went on a date to a park and then out for sushi. We made plans for the following Friday night. I had had such a bad week at work, it was the only thing I looked forward to. Plus, I was exhausted, so we agreed on a take-out dinner and movie night.

About fifteen minutes before he was supposed to arrive, Horse Dick texted me to tell me his friends needed a designated driver, so he decided to go with them instead. I was a little confused, because I didn’t know if he meant he was going to be late or he was not coming at all. He just wasn’t coming at all. I was furious!! I said why can’t they Uber it or take a cab? It wasn’t far from where they lived. I might have expected that type of behavior from someone in his 20s but certainly not anyone in his 40s! I told him how rude that was of him to stand me up. He wanted to make it up to me the following night, but I decided I wasn’t about to set aside another weekend night off to be stood up again. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to speak to him again after that, but I got a good night of sleep and decided to anyway.

We saw each other only once or twice after that, and the other times we’d made arrangements, he made excuses; his behavior was inexcusable. A few weeks later, I ran into his friends again. I hadn’t seen Horse Dick out anywhere. His friends told me that he’d left them all high and dry (he was their roommate), left the state and went to marry his ex girlfriend. I was completely shocked, because this was the woman he’d broken up with a year and a half prior, and to my knowledge, they were done. I suppose he was chatting her up the entire time he was seeing me or standing me up.

Horse Dick’s friends actually told me that I’m better off without him, that he had so many issues it was unbelievable. Of course, I never got to see all of those issues, thankfully, although I do suspect substance abuse may have been a major one. But once in a while I spy on his Facebook page and see that he still posts new selfies every other day.

The Time I Dated a Portuguese Man o’ War

I should have stomped his ass.

I should have stomped his ass.

Another really stupid mistake on my part. Right after I graduated college I had found a decent job in a professional office. Every week, however, people were getting fired little by little. None of us ever knew how long we had, and on top of that, the owner was kind of a creep. In the meantime, I had been applying for jobs that were in my actual career field, some of which were out of the area I was living at the time.

Over a holiday weekend visit with my family, I ran into Portuguese Man o’ War that I’d met before but didn’t remember much about the interaction. For whatever reason, we hit it off this time. (I think I was still hurting after my college boyfriend breakup, so I wasn’t seeing things clearly.) Sex wasn’t even good; he had a small dick and had bad breath from being diabetic, and he wasn’t even good looking, so I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. At the time, I thought he was just this really sweet guy. After only two months of seeing each other on weekends, I was offered a job in across the state where he lived, and we decided to get a place together.

About three weeks into our living arrangement, I knew I’d made a mistake. He turned out to be clingy and crazy. My job required me to bring my work home, even though it was unpaid. He didn’t like that. I said too bad, this is my career, and this is how it works in this field if I want to succeed. He also didn’t like the fact that this job was taking attention away from him – yes, that’s how needy he was. We were fighting like crazy, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of the situation safely, because when I told him I needed space, it angered him.

I’d kept a diary where I’d written my feelings about things over the years and had a suspicion that he’d been reading it. My suspicion was confirmed when I purposely wrote something about his small dick. That’s when things got really scary. He cornered me and wouldn’t allow me out of our bedroom. He was trying to get me to hit him so he could call the police on me, but I knew better. He did unacceptable things to torture my kid, and that’s when I knew I had to take legal action against him. I was issued a temporary restraining order against him, but officers allowed him inside the house to get his things without me being there. He destroyed my computer that I used for work, put itching powder (made with fiberglass) in my bras, rubbed deodorant all over the toilet seat, took all of my hygeine products, and said some pretty awful things to the officers about me. I’m sure it was obvious to them that he was a shitty person.

Not coincidentally, over a period of three weeks, I had three flat tires. We had to go to court over who was going to get to keep the apartment and to continue with the injunction. He claimed that I used him for money, that he’d paid for everything and I paid for nothing, which was a complete lie. I was fully prepared and presented copies of checks, receipts, etc., as my contribution to the household. Being that I’d moved a distance to live there and didn’t want to move my child again, he had clearly lied through his teeth, and apparently had a scarred history with women (I also learned that his ex wife had also had an injunction against him), I was granted a permanent injunction against him and was able to stay at my place.

But Portuguese Man o’ War didn’t stop there. He reported me to child services with claims that I did drugs in front of my kid all day long. I invited the caseworker into my home and explained the situation, and it was clear who was a liar. Besides the fact that my new job would have detected drug use, my kid didn’t even know what a drug was.

Thankfully, I never saw him again. Right after him is when I started dating cops.

Let’s Talk About Condoms

Condoms: Latex or Lambskin?

Condoms: Latex or Lambskin?

I’ve always been a big believer in condom use, especially after learning the hard way years ago that the birth control pill isn’t very effective while using antibiotics, and other prescription methods weren’t compatible with my body.

I’ve probably tried several different types and brands of condoms, but there is always one or two that are preferable and reliable. Reliability is the #1 concern, otherwise, there would be no need for it in the first place, right? I’ve only had a condom break once, and it was an off-brand that I’d never heard of, probably some cheap shit made in China purchased at a gas station.

I’m not a big fan of regular latex condoms, because they irritate me and rub me raw. However, since Lifestyles brand is often given away free, it’s probably what I’ve used most. I’ve also used condoms with spermicides, and I will never use them again. They burned like hell and rubbed me raw, which caused more burning. I’ve also used ribbed condoms and found a little bit more sensation “for her pleasure,” but nothing too significant to pay the extra money.

I’m just finding out about polyurethane condoms, and I’m not sure I’ve used them before. From the Trojan website, the reviews seem to be fine except from men that said they were too small. I had a similar issue with a friend using Trojan’s Lambskin Condoms – he claimed they were too tight and he had no feeling. I’m not sure if he was telling the truth or not, so I made him use a latex condom instead.

For me personally, lambskin condoms have been absolutely awesome when it comes to feeling. It’s like not using anything at all. I suppose that’s why they are only good for pregnancy prevention and not for STD infections. These are great if you’re in a monogamous relationship, but if you’re having sex outside of that, they’re probably not the best choice. Another downside to lambskin condoms is the cost; the average price is $16 for only three condoms. I can go through the entire box in one day when I’m really in the mood. 😉

So now it’s my turn to ask the questions to my readers – what is your preferred condom and why?

Long John, the Pilot

He loved my ass, but he was an ass.

He loved my ass, but he was an ass.

When I was about 22, I worked as a secretary for a large company. Even though we had about 100 employees, there were never any guys that piqued my interest… except this one that came in to work temporarily. About 10 years older, he was a pilot fresh out of school and caught the eyes of all of the females that worked there. We were immediately attracted to each other. He was tall, short dark curly hair, blue eyes, very nice build, and intelligent. I’ll just call him Long John, because he had a huge dick.

I believe it was he that started the conversation, and we exchanged numbers. Long John asked me out to dinner, we planned lunch together, and eventually he made dinner at his place. All of this happened within a week, so it was pretty quick. I thought nothing of it at the time, given that I was very inexperienced with actual dating.

Then the red flags started. By the end of the week, he’d told me how great I’d look in a wedding dress. It was flattering, but I wasn’t looking to be married anytime soon. My cousin (a female) visited me while Long John was at my house, and he became jealous, because I wasn’t giving him attention. Even my cousin noticed this and thought it was strange. And then one night when we had some drinks, I noticed Long John’s entire personality change… to the point that I was fearful of making the wrong move.

Prior to meeting Long John, I’d arranged a cruise to the Bahamas. My friend bailed out on me, so I ended up going by myself. I needed a ride to the port, which was hours away, so Long John offered to drive. It was the longest, most awkward drive, because he acted like a dick and hardly spoke to me. He seemed angry that I was going on this cruise without him, even though I’d arranged it months prior. At that point, I wouldn’t have wanted him to go anyway, because he was acting like he owned me. The last mistake he made before dropping me off was telling me that he didn’t trust that I was going to be by myself.

When I came back to port, I had no one to pick me up, because Long John decided not to. I had to call someone and wait for hours for a ride. It was probably a good thing, because during my trip, I had a lot of time to think and realized I didn’t want anything more to do with Long John.

At work, he ended up calling in sick (which I knew was a lie) and then just stopped showing up. I was glad, because I didn’t need to deal with his awkward jealous glares. I’ve never seen or heard from him again. Not a bad thing.

Sex at the Beach with Frankenstein Head

He pulled my bikini aside.

He pulled my bikini aside.

I met Frankenstein Head when I was about 24. He followed me around one night when I was out with the girls and he kept talking to me. At first I ignored him, but he was persistent. He was two years younger and we’d gone to the same high school. I thought he was hot at the time – tanned, muscular, blond, blue-eyed. (The only reason I named him Frankenstein Head was because he had a huge forehead, and as he got older, it got bigger.) We had a lot of fun and got along great, so we were seeing each other for a few weeks.

We had the BEST sex ever right on a beach once in the middle of broad daylight. Hiding behind the dunes, I could hear families with their kids, and of course I was afraid of being caught. It was hot and sweaty and just amazing, because it was the first time I’d ever had sex on the beach.

At the time, I worked at a night club as a shot girl. One night at work, one of my co-workers came to me and said “my man” was dancing with another girl. Knowing he had a lot of female friends, I blew it off, because what guy is going to do something stupid in front of the woman he’s seeing at her work?

But he completely ignored me, left with the girl, and ignored my pages (yes back when people used pagers!). I was fuming!! Eventually, he came back to my work on another night and apologized, said he “bonded” with this girl, that all they did was talk about old times. But I didn’t believe him one bit. He said he was sorry, that I deserved better. I walked away from him, but he followed me insisting he was an asshole. I said no shit!

Then he had the nerve to continue coming into my club with his new girl. I’d throw ice cubes at him and some of the other girls I worked with “accidentally” spilled drinks on him. I think he finally got the hint.

As it turns out, he dated that girl for a short time, but she left him for his good friend and married him instead.

The Time I Dated a Crooked Cop

This is me undercover.

This is me undercover.

Shortly after I graduated college and began a professional career, I went through a cop dating phase. I suppose it had to do with ending up in abusive relationships, and psychologically I was attracted to law enforcement types, because it made me feel safe.

Sitting at the bar in a small club with my girl friend, this guy walks up to order a drink and we start talking. He was maybe five years older than me, not at all what I would normally be attracted to, but for some reason I was attracted to this guy. He told me his name was John, and he was a DEA agent. Ah-ha! Now that explained the attraction.

Supposedly, John was “working” while we were sitting at the bar. I can’t remember if he was actually drinking or not, and at the time I didn’t think to put clues together. We exchanged numbers, kept in touch, he came to my house, left me gifts at my door when I wasn’t home (nice body lotions and shower gels), flattered me with compliments, and always said that I was a “good girl.” He’d never been married and no kids, and within three weeks I was beginning to fall for this guy. The problem was, his job required him to work so many hours that I rarely got to spend any real time with him.

Sex was okay… and I only say okay, because John had a slightly smaller than average Johnson. But since I wasn’t used to being treated like a queen, I dismissed that part of the relationship. However, John really enjoyed being with me, and once when he was doing me from behind, he got off in less than a minute. He said I wiggled my hips a certain way or something and it just got him off. I had no idea what he was talking about, but okay.

About a month into this situation, I’d told my Aunt Paula about him and wanted her to meet him. In my own naïve mind, John could be “the one”. Aunt Paula and I went out to dinner one night, then decided to have a cocktail at the bar. Some guy that was good-looking but a cocky asshole started speaking to us. He mentioned that he was a police officer in a certain city, and I told him that I was seeing a DEA agent that worked with his department. He started asking me questions, I gave him John’s name, and he said they didn’t have anyone that works for his department by that name. I insisted that he worked “with” the department, not “for”. He still insisted, so then he asked me to describe John to him. When I did, he said, “That’s Daniel xxxx.”

I said no, his name is John. He described more things about John, like how he spoke, what he drove, etc. He said, “No, his name is Daniel, and he’s married with a baby on the way. And he’s not a DEA agent. He’s a cop for our department.”

My jaw dropped. Aunt Paula and I looked at each other, and she said, “I don’t trust this guy. You need to give John a call.”

We left the place and went somewhere else – and the cocky cop either followed us there or coincidentally showed up. A total creeper, he wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept insisting that John was someone named Daniel with a pregnant wife. At the time, cell phones weren’t like they are today, so I used a pay phone to call John. He didn’t answer, so I left him a message that this cop guy was insisting he’s someone else and this needed to be explained to me immediately. Paula and I left, and I went home pissed off.

When I arrived home, there were messages from John to please call him, that this guy was just out to get him. John rushed to my house immediately and convinced me he married a woman because she had terminal cancer and she needed his insurance – but they are not in an actual marriage. He also said he really did work for the DEA, and he did admit his real name was Daniel. Apparently, “John” was his working name, because he was undercover and couldn’t reveal his true information.

He was very convincing, so I believed him for the time being. However, my Spidey senses told me to look into it more. Another relative knew someone else John/Daniel had dated, so we had a very long discussion in which I learned he did have a wife that he was in a real marriage with, she did not have cancer, she was pregnant, and he’s basically the biggest liar and player on earth. I was floored that someone his age would take the time to make up a bunch of shit for no reason. Everything he’d told me was a lie, and I was heartbroken.

Being that I was still in my 20s and my dark side was more prevalent, I put together my own undercover disguise and a “care package” to have delivered to his wife to prove he’d been cheating on her. Within minutes, I received an angry phone call from him. He tried using his threatening cop tactics on me, but I called his bluff.

I later found out that during the time we were seeing each other, he had sat in the parking lot of my apartment complex waiting to see if I had other men coming to my house. Now it made sense why he kept saying that I “was a good girl.” Too bad he was a bad boy… so bad that he ended up getting fired for stealing drugs from informants.

Old School Perv

Peering at me thru his lens like a creep.

Peering at me thru his lens like a creep.

During spring break when I was about 22, I met a really hot “older” guy from Los Angeles. He’d told me he was 26 but was actually 32. For me, that was a big age difference at the time given my proneness to younger men. He had long-ish blond hair (more of a surfer look) with light eyes, was in great shape, wore combat boots with shorts, and had a unique look about him that stood out. We kept in touch and visited each other once – him coming to my area and me going to his place in Florida.

His place was really nice; apparently, he’d done a lot of remodeling on his own, which was impressive. Although he was very hospitable when I visited, he was seemed immature for someone in his 30s. For instance, he drove a sporty type of car (at some point I think we valet parked or something), and he blasted the music and opened the door as if to show off. That didn’t impress me; in fact, I felt embarrassed. We went to dinner and a club, the type of club I’d never go to on my own or with friends, because I really hate techno music. What really ruined it for me and made me never speak to him again happened once we got back to his place.

We started out making out in his kitchen. He had me on the counter, our tongues down each other’s throats, my legs wrapped around his. We moved to his couch where things really started to get heated and clothing started unbuttoning and unzippering. We stopped for a few minutes to take a breather or a bathroom break or whatever it was before moving to his bedroom. He’d gone back to the kitchen or something while I was lying there waiting.

For whatever reason, I immediately felt something wasn’t right and felt like I was being watched. My intution told me to look around, and sure enough, I saw a blinking red light coming from his closet. When I confronted him, Old School Perv gave me some lame ass excuse that it was going to be a “surprise” for us to watch later, which I suspected was a lie. I thought how fucking creepy and told him that I didn’t feel comfortable with any of it. It ruined the entire moment, and I got up and drove hours home and never spoke to him again.

Drummer Boy

Another guy that can kiss my ass...

Another guy that can kiss my ass…

Drummer Boy was a drummer in a rock band that was a few years older than me. I immediately had eyes for him, however, I was skeptical because of my experience with band guys. We met one summer when I was planning a move to his  area. We’d had a great time together and the sex was good, although at this point I don’t remember much about it.

Drummer Boy had told me he’s ready to settle down, he’s tired of playing the games, etc… I had to leave to go back home, but I promised him I’d be back – and I was a few months later. In the meantime, we kept in touch, he called to say that he missed me and couldn’t wait to see me again. He wanted to show me his house on the water and spend some time getting to know me. I let him know when I was coming back, and he seemed excited.

I showed up dressed to kill to watch his band play. I wasn’t sure if he’d seen me or not, but when the band stopped, I watched him walk off stage. About 10 feet in front of me, he kissed some blonde chick, then looked at me and said,”That’s my girlfriend.”

“Excuse me??” I said.

I cannot even imagine the look on my face, but I wanted to fucking kill him for wasting my time and leading me on. He just shrugged his shoulders and gave me a sly grin, turned around and avoided me the rest of the night.

I found out from one of the bartenders that Drummer Boy had been with this girl since before I met him, they had a kid together, and this was typical behavior of him. Before leaving, I told him exactly what I thought. He tried to talk to me a few times after that, but I wanted nothing more to do with the prick.

First Time in a Scary Relationship

Yes, he really did write it this way.

Yes, he really did write it this way.

I just discovered a scrapbook I’d made in college that consisted of pictures, letters, stories, and miscellaneous memorabilia of boys I dated or crushed on. Upon reading it, I noticed a pattern in which I ended up in abusive relationships. The last entry has no story added, but the photos and memorabilia pretty much give it away and are a painful reminder of stupid mistakes I’ve made.

I was about 25 years old when I moved to a college town to pursue my professional degree. The very first people I met were my neighbors, a brother and sister that lived directly across the street with their parents. Both were very friendly and helpful, and we quickly became friends. I went against my better judgment when I started seeing Rocky (he was 19) as more than just friends. There was a lot of chemistry, which I still to this day think is rare in relationships. But he also had a good side to him that was cute and loving, or maybe it was just manipulation.

Why I said against my better judgment is this: Rocky was an alpha male, a high school dropout, his mother enabled him to take no responsibility for his own actions, and it turned out he was a drug addict and thief. He was employed, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t have to pay bills since he lived at home. I didn’t know all of this at first, as I was so busy with being a mom, my studies, work, and what social life I could manage to fit in. I was also extremely naïve, had very little romantic relationship experience, and I trusted people that were nice to me.

Long story short, Rocky and I had amazing sex… probably the best I’d had at that point in my life, and he’d taught me things I didn’t know. I don’t remember many details about it now; I just remember what kept me opening my door to him (no pun intended) besides the loneliness of being in a new place and knowing no one. Things got pretty heated in other ways that ended the relationship altogether.

I’m pretty certain that Rocky stole money from me, since he knew where I hid it, as he thought my student loans were “free money,” and I suppose he thought he was also entitled to it. He cheated on me the same night I had a dream about him being with another woman (next day he had a hickey on his neck). He took me out on one actual dinner date to a restaurant that I would never have chosen. Another time we went to a club (I always drove, since he didn’t have a car)… Now for the funny part – I had $20 on me, which in the late 90s was enough for me to have a pretty good time at a club for the entire night. He didn’t have money on him, so he asked to hold my money to buy my drinks so he didn’t look like a fool. Obviously, he was embarrassed, so I gave it to him.

Rocky was a jealous guy and once after being out with a girl friend for the night, he literally got down on his knees and sniffed my crotch like a dog to see if I’d been with another man. Another time, I got fed up with his shit and told him that I did meet someone else (whether or not it was true, I can’t remember) and asked Rocky how he tasted. Rocky went into a rage, punched out my window, threatened to burn my house down and destroy my car. I called the police, he was issued a trespass warning. Stupid, naïve me gave in to him a few weeks or months later. The final straw was when I found out he’d been smoking crack. Yes, crack… with his mother, and he’d borrowed my car to buy it. I was fuming!! On this particular night, he was high and proceeded to choke me until I almost passed out. I knew then that it was the end, he was arrested and the judge ordered him not to come within 500 feet of me for life. In case you’re wondering, the last page of the scrapbook was the actual restraining order.

unnamed-2

The actual scrapbook with his pics, love notes, and restraining order.

Once I graduated college, I moved from the area and never heard from him again. I did some digging years ago, because that’s just what women do, and learned that he’d served some jail time for dealing in stolen property. Some things never change!

Other Sh*t Camgirls Put Up With

I should stand on their balls.

I should stand on their balls.

If you’re unfamiliar with cam sites, there’s a chat room where fans hang out and can chat, make comments, etc., while viewing the camgirl on video. Sometimes people sit in the room saying nothing at all, watching everything for free, not even saying hello and certainly not tipping.

Then there are the ones that actually do have a pleasant conversation, which keeps the room lively and helps the camgirl feel like she’s not talking to herself. This also makes the camgirl want to stay on camera instead of turning it off and doing her nails.

And then there are these guys… losers only looking to play for free and take attention out of the chat room. They usually send private messages, but once you tell them you charge for that, they quickly leave. They’re the biggest and most annoying time-wasters of all, usually going from room to room hoping to get lucky.

For example – I told this guy I’d watch him for 50 tokens. (Most do not have tokens or aren’t willing to pay.) I never heard from him again, and I don’t believe he has a “model following” as he claims. Most of them are completely full of shit.

Hi! My cam is on for you right now and I am dying to show off my 9 inch cock to you! I’ve got a following of models who enjoy watching me stroke and tease my cock for them until I cum. My cam is on, can you see?

This one copies and pastes the same comments each time and never tips. I tell them they cannot demand or ask things of the model without tipping. Models get annoyed, because there usually isn’t just one or two or even three guys asking for free things in chat. We’re not there to entertain you for free. Most models have “room rules”, one of the main is to have respect.  Just because we are online partly clothed doesn’t mean you have the right to order us around. We have a job, which sometimes makes half of minimum wage when the room is full of cheap assholes like this:

will you read something for me please???

read aloud please….missy your husband kenny wants your mom rosetta to watch him masturbate

please

i want my wife to hear you

would you like to see my mother in laws picture

she is next to me now

you can show it on cam so everyone can see her

pm me your snapchat username so i can send it to you

you can block me after you get the pic

This stuff happens each time I cam, and since repeating myself is a pet peeve of mine, you can imagine how annoyed I get. Besides, other guests in the room don’t care to see that either. From now on, any time someone asks me to do something without tipping, I’m going to kick them out temporarily as a punishment. I should probably learn more about “punishment”…

Dating is (Mostly) Dead

My eyes are north.

My eyes are north.

I can probably count on one hand the number of “actual” dates I’ve been on in the last three years. (Hanging out at my place doesn’t count.) When my relationship ended, I resorted to PoF to see what was out there. I found it more to be plenty of sharks, plenty of liars, and plenty of needy leeches. And definitely plenty of assholes!

After being in a relationship for a long period of time and also being over the age of 35, it’s easy to forget what it’s like to date or to be single. Besides the lack of available AND quality people my own age, I had found myself to be very vulnerable and completely inexperienced… a virgin, if you will. (Not quite a virgin, but you get the picture.) I quickly remembered how shitty being single can be be when it comes to the world of dating… how being vulnerable can lead to stupid and hasty decisions all in the name of wanting to be loved or just cuddled.

The two dates I went on this year went pretty well. One was cocktails and dinner with a friend (we hooked up in the past but not anymore). He’s one of those people that I can have fun with no matter what without any hard feelings later. Another was with a man about 10 years older that I saw maybe a handful of times. We had dinner and went to a brewery afterwards. But he’s a blog post I’ll write another time.

It’s very rare that I get asked on an actual date, but when I do, it’s usually someone I do not want to date. This past Friday was exceptional, because I had three date offers. So what did I do? I chose to stay at home by myself, watch sappy movies and go to bed early.

Three date offers for me (especially in one night) is unheard of. First, I’ve had this guy I met a while back and sometimes run into (we hung out once, no sex or making out) begging me to do something with him. He’s nice, but something isn’t right about him… like maybe too rough around the edges. Plus, he had horrible breath last time we hung out. I’m looking for someone a little more polished.

Another offer came from a young and talented hottie, but there is definitely something off about him. It has nothing to do with his criminal history (*chuckles*), but he says some off-the-wall shit that makes me question his sanity. Keeping a safe distance from this guy. I need someone with a lot more maturity than what he has to offer.

And last, but not least, someone that I really like as a friend and only a friend keeps asking me to do things. It probably didn’t help that I “accidentally” made out with him after a few beers during a really vulnerable time a couple of weeks ago, even though I have zero physical attraction to him. I’m afraid he’s hoping for more than friendship, so I’m keeping a safe distance from him as well.

If I could take all of the qualities I like in all three of these guys and put them into one, there might be an actual date. While I would absolutely love to meet someone that can accept me for who I am and vice versa, I’m not holding my breath. I know my chances and choices are slim. I don’t want to waste my time going on empty dates with men that I know will lead to nowhere. After being single for three years, I realize that I may have to accept being single for the rest of my life, because I’m certainly not going to settle for anything less than what I want or deserve.

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…

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

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!

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…

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…