logo by Monday, January 31, 2005
Read this first if you haven't already done so.
Last week I was nervous. Butterflies in my stomach and all. It was like I was in high school waiting to go out on my first date or something. We'll call her M. She and I must have sent twenty emails to each other over the course of the week, but that was only making it worse. A brief phone conversation Thursday evening temporarily relaxed me, but by Saturday afternoon I was all figety again. We had agreed to meet at the entrance to a certain subway station downtown at 7pm. I arrived at the station a little bit ahead of time and took the escalator up to the street to wait for her. For a few minutes I watched each girl as she came up and stepped of the escalator, trying to match each face to the pic M had sent me. And then I saw her. The first thing I noticed was her warm smile. She recognized me and waved as she stepped off the escalator. Immediately the nervousness vanished and I was totally relaxed. We walked up to each other and embraced.
"I feel awkward," she said. "It's like a first date."
From then on, it was like I was with a good friend I'd known for years. It was snowing as we walked the several blocks over to the neighborhood where all the good restaurants are, and she looked beautiful with the snowflakes clinging to her hair. We found a nice restaurant and got a table with a candle. We talked through dinner and then some, chatting for a good half hour after we had finished our meal. Eventually we glanced at our watches and realized it was 9 o'clock and we had better head over to the blues club we had planned on going to before all the tables were taken.
The club was just a few doors down from the restaurant. It's your typical old brick city rowhouse. The stage is up front, essentially in the window, with a bar along one wall, and candlelit tables leading all the way to the back. There were a few free tables here and there, but we walked all the way to the back and took the last table in a cozy corner by the back wall. And for the next five and a half hours we talked. I'm normally kind of quiet, especially with someone I've just met, but for some reason the conversation just came easy with her. We had an amazing number of things in common. We talked about love and marriage, my wife, her boyfriend, music, kids, our childhoods, our parents, our jobs, her school, our friends. I shared more of my thoughts with her than I think I've shared with anyone in a long, long time, and she shared a lot with me too. The ten-year difference in our ages seemed to make no difference whatsoever. I felt like I could be totally honest and tell her stuff without worrying that she was going to use it against me later on, as is so often the case with my wife.
The band was excellent, and way back in our little corner the volume was just right for us to listen to the music while still being able to carry on our conversation. The evening rushed by, and before I knew it, the band, which had started playing at 10:00, had finished their third set. I looked down at my watch and noticed that it was 2:30.
"We better go, M, if we're gonna catch the last subway at 3:00," I said.
She looked down at her watch. "Oh, you're right!" she said, "I can't believe it's 2:30!"
To get home, we had to take the same subway for a few stops and then I needed to change to a different line to head off to the suburbs while she would stay on the same train for a few more stops to get to her neighborhood. But she lives in a sketchy neighborhood, and so we decided it would be better for her to take a cab than to have to walk the ten minutes from the subway station to her apartment. But what a strange thing: we must have stood out there for 10 minutes in the slush and snow trying to hail a cab, and each time we flagged one down the driver would say, "No way. I'm not driving over there" when she told him where she wanted to go.
Twice I offered that she could ride home with me and then I could drive her over to her apartment, but she's a tough girl, kind of a tomboy I guess, and so in the end she decided to just brave it and take the subway. I thought about riding home with her and walking her to her apartment, but then I'd be stuck at her place, a one-room studio, which would have been awkward, and perhaps a little too tempting. She was, after all, a very pretty girl, and our evening had brought us very close to each other in many ways. In retrospect I suppose I should have offered, but in the end she took the train and I called her when I got home to make sure she had made it OK, which she had.
We caught the last train and rode the three stops to my transfer point in relative silence, sitting against each other, watching the lights fly by in the tunnel. It was the first time all night that we didn't say much to each other. As the train pulled into my stop I turned to her and told her I was really glad we had done this.
She looked at me and said, "Really? Me too," and we turned and put our arms around each other and held each other tight until the train came to a stop and the doors opened. Then we let go, smiled, and said goodbye. There's nothing like a subway train to eliminate the awkwardness of long goodbyes, so I stepped off the train, the doors closed, and that was that.
In the end, the evening was exactly what I had hoped it would be. I had a fun date with a wonderful girl, and I didn't do anything that would make me feel guilty. We talked for almost eight hours straight. My only hope is that somehow I can find a way to tell my wife about M without having her take it the wrong way. I'd like to see M again, but I can't keep sneaking around indefinitely. The one thing that may work, if I present it just right, is that M has a history of working with kids and would love to babysit for us. In fact, the PhD she is working on right now is related to children. She has the references and the experience, so if I can introduce her to my wife as a potential babysitter then maybe my wife will grow to trust her enough that she won't have a problem with M and me being friends.
We'll see.
Last week I was nervous. Butterflies in my stomach and all. It was like I was in high school waiting to go out on my first date or something. We'll call her M. She and I must have sent twenty emails to each other over the course of the week, but that was only making it worse. A brief phone conversation Thursday evening temporarily relaxed me, but by Saturday afternoon I was all figety again. We had agreed to meet at the entrance to a certain subway station downtown at 7pm. I arrived at the station a little bit ahead of time and took the escalator up to the street to wait for her. For a few minutes I watched each girl as she came up and stepped of the escalator, trying to match each face to the pic M had sent me. And then I saw her. The first thing I noticed was her warm smile. She recognized me and waved as she stepped off the escalator. Immediately the nervousness vanished and I was totally relaxed. We walked up to each other and embraced.
"I feel awkward," she said. "It's like a first date."
From then on, it was like I was with a good friend I'd known for years. It was snowing as we walked the several blocks over to the neighborhood where all the good restaurants are, and she looked beautiful with the snowflakes clinging to her hair. We found a nice restaurant and got a table with a candle. We talked through dinner and then some, chatting for a good half hour after we had finished our meal. Eventually we glanced at our watches and realized it was 9 o'clock and we had better head over to the blues club we had planned on going to before all the tables were taken.
The club was just a few doors down from the restaurant. It's your typical old brick city rowhouse. The stage is up front, essentially in the window, with a bar along one wall, and candlelit tables leading all the way to the back. There were a few free tables here and there, but we walked all the way to the back and took the last table in a cozy corner by the back wall. And for the next five and a half hours we talked. I'm normally kind of quiet, especially with someone I've just met, but for some reason the conversation just came easy with her. We had an amazing number of things in common. We talked about love and marriage, my wife, her boyfriend, music, kids, our childhoods, our parents, our jobs, her school, our friends. I shared more of my thoughts with her than I think I've shared with anyone in a long, long time, and she shared a lot with me too. The ten-year difference in our ages seemed to make no difference whatsoever. I felt like I could be totally honest and tell her stuff without worrying that she was going to use it against me later on, as is so often the case with my wife.
The band was excellent, and way back in our little corner the volume was just right for us to listen to the music while still being able to carry on our conversation. The evening rushed by, and before I knew it, the band, which had started playing at 10:00, had finished their third set. I looked down at my watch and noticed that it was 2:30.
"We better go, M, if we're gonna catch the last subway at 3:00," I said.
She looked down at her watch. "Oh, you're right!" she said, "I can't believe it's 2:30!"
To get home, we had to take the same subway for a few stops and then I needed to change to a different line to head off to the suburbs while she would stay on the same train for a few more stops to get to her neighborhood. But she lives in a sketchy neighborhood, and so we decided it would be better for her to take a cab than to have to walk the ten minutes from the subway station to her apartment. But what a strange thing: we must have stood out there for 10 minutes in the slush and snow trying to hail a cab, and each time we flagged one down the driver would say, "No way. I'm not driving over there" when she told him where she wanted to go.
Twice I offered that she could ride home with me and then I could drive her over to her apartment, but she's a tough girl, kind of a tomboy I guess, and so in the end she decided to just brave it and take the subway. I thought about riding home with her and walking her to her apartment, but then I'd be stuck at her place, a one-room studio, which would have been awkward, and perhaps a little too tempting. She was, after all, a very pretty girl, and our evening had brought us very close to each other in many ways. In retrospect I suppose I should have offered, but in the end she took the train and I called her when I got home to make sure she had made it OK, which she had.
We caught the last train and rode the three stops to my transfer point in relative silence, sitting against each other, watching the lights fly by in the tunnel. It was the first time all night that we didn't say much to each other. As the train pulled into my stop I turned to her and told her I was really glad we had done this.
She looked at me and said, "Really? Me too," and we turned and put our arms around each other and held each other tight until the train came to a stop and the doors opened. Then we let go, smiled, and said goodbye. There's nothing like a subway train to eliminate the awkwardness of long goodbyes, so I stepped off the train, the doors closed, and that was that.
In the end, the evening was exactly what I had hoped it would be. I had a fun date with a wonderful girl, and I didn't do anything that would make me feel guilty. We talked for almost eight hours straight. My only hope is that somehow I can find a way to tell my wife about M without having her take it the wrong way. I'd like to see M again, but I can't keep sneaking around indefinitely. The one thing that may work, if I present it just right, is that M has a history of working with kids and would love to babysit for us. In fact, the PhD she is working on right now is related to children. She has the references and the experience, so if I can introduce her to my wife as a potential babysitter then maybe my wife will grow to trust her enough that she won't have a problem with M and me being friends.
We'll see.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
For the first time in the ten years that I have known my wife I have a date tonight with another girl. She is one of three girls who responded to my recent ad on craigslist wherein I said I was looking for a girl to hang out with this weekend while my wife and kids are out of town. She's a very pretty 24-year-old grad student who recently moved here from Boston and doesn't know a lot of people yet. She has a boyfriend back in Boston. We have plans to meet downtown for dinner and then check out a blues club afterwards. Even though we've both agreed to keep it strictly platonic, I must say I'm a bit nervous. But at the same time I am also looking forward to it. Because my wife hates the city, it's been so long since I've had the company of a girl for a night on the town. Of course I'll let you know how it goes. I better go get dressed.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Continued from Friday
Feeling the need to taste your whole body, I break away from our kiss and begin moving slowly downward, leaving little kisses as I go. First your chin. Kiss, kiss. Sighing in ecstasy you arch your head back as I continue downward toward your neck. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Leaving little pecks on your chest in between your breasts, I move down to your tummy while at the same time sliding the tip of my hard cock against the inside of your leg. Then, moving lower to your undies, I plant little kisses on your public mound through the soft, cotton material. Up and down the outline of your pussy lips I kiss until you can take it no longer and you begin to tug on your undies, trying to take them off. I pull the elastic down in front just enough to expose the top of your slit, pressing my lips firmly into your exposed mound. You gasp and raise your hips, squirming to press your crotch firmly against my face. Finally I pull your undies off and lean back to admire your beautiful body, smiling at you lovingly as you smile back and bite your lip, stifling a little giggle.
one more installment on the way...
Feeling the need to taste your whole body, I break away from our kiss and begin moving slowly downward, leaving little kisses as I go. First your chin. Kiss, kiss. Sighing in ecstasy you arch your head back as I continue downward toward your neck. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Leaving little pecks on your chest in between your breasts, I move down to your tummy while at the same time sliding the tip of my hard cock against the inside of your leg. Then, moving lower to your undies, I plant little kisses on your public mound through the soft, cotton material. Up and down the outline of your pussy lips I kiss until you can take it no longer and you begin to tug on your undies, trying to take them off. I pull the elastic down in front just enough to expose the top of your slit, pressing my lips firmly into your exposed mound. You gasp and raise your hips, squirming to press your crotch firmly against my face. Finally I pull your undies off and lean back to admire your beautiful body, smiling at you lovingly as you smile back and bite your lip, stifling a little giggle.
one more installment on the way...
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Sixteen years ago almost to the day I was in Boston on winter break from my freshman year in college visiting my best friend from high school who was going to MIT. He and I were walking down the street when a very pretty girl coming the other way looked directly at me and smiled a warm, friendly smile. After she passed us my friend turn to me and asked, "Did you see the way she was smiling at you?" Yes I did. I most certainly did. And now, all these years later I still remember that girl. It was the first time I was aware of a total stranger showing an interest in me, and I think it changed the way I react around girls in general. Now I'm the one who is smiling and catching girls off-gaurd. So hey, smile at a stranger today for me, will you? Who knows, he or she might remember you for years to come.
Monday, January 24, 2005
This morning I woke up before my wife, as I usually do. I might normally have gotten out of bed and gone downstairs, but it was cold, cold, cold in the bedroom so I decided to slide over and snuggle up against my wife and stay in bed a little while longer under our puffy quilt, two blankets, and flannel sheets. She murmured a pleasant little something or other as I gave her a kiss, nudged her into the spoon position, and slid my hand under her nightie to cup one of her little breasts, but she didn't wake up. I think I may have dozed off for a few minutes, but eventually I woke up again and very gently began to knead her breast with my hand. Using only the lightest of pressure and tiniest movement, but increasing the pressure and movement ever so slowly minute after minute as she lay there, her chest moving in and out with each sleeping breath. And then, after what must have been several minutes I began to detect a faint, almost imperceptible movement in her hips. Continuing to knead her breast I waited and watched as the movement in her hips became more pronounced and she began to open and close her legs. After another minute or two, as she was starting to squirm noticeably and breathe more heavily, she put her hand over mine and pulled it down toward her pussy while spreading her legs and twisting to lie on her back. As I began to caress her pussy I lifted her nightie up with my other hand, exposing the milky-white skin of her chest and her little pink nipples, and I began to plant little kisses on her breast, starting with tiny pecks and then moving to wetter kisses, eventually tracing her nipple with my tongue. By this time she was moaning and writhing around in that beautiful, sexy way that girls do. Finally, still kneading her pussy, I took her nipple in my mouth and began to suck it, pressing my face into her breast. Her nipple, now rock-hard, felt like a gum ball in my mouth as I slid my tongue all around it and pulled at it with my lips. And that was all it took to send her into a screaming frenzy, squirming, writhing, gasping, and moaning. On and on the waves of her orgasm washed through her. Eventually, her body slowly began to relax, and the moans and yells turned back into murmurs and whimpers. And then, a few minutes later, her body was quiet again but for the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and I realized that she was once again sound asleep.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Well, OK. So this is interesting...
Some of you know I was hoping to go to the upcoming Keane concert in a couple weeks, and I was even hoping that one of the girls who reads this blog might live around here and would like to go with me. But since that doesn't seem to be the case, and since I was just a few hours late in trying to buy tickets, I'm now stuck with neither a date nor a ticket to the show. Oh well. Such is life.
So then yesterday my wife told me that she's planning on taking the kids out of town next weekend to see their grandparents. Well that leaves me with a totally free weekend and yet another opportunity to find a date. So this time I decided to cut to the chase, and I posted an ad on craigslist for someone who might like to go with me to a rock show, a dance club, or even a comedy club next Saturday night. I explained that I am married and my wife is going to be out of town, but I'd like to keep it strictly platonic--just two adults having a fun time together instead of sitting at home alone for the night.
Well, no sooner did I post the ad when I got a reply from a girl. She said next Saturday is bad for her, but she was wondering if I might have any interest in going to see Keane in a couple weeks because she has an extra ticket.
So, looks like I have an opportunity, should I choose to accept it, to see Keane after all. With someone. A girl.
Oh and she's cute too. She sent me a pic.
Some of you know I was hoping to go to the upcoming Keane concert in a couple weeks, and I was even hoping that one of the girls who reads this blog might live around here and would like to go with me. But since that doesn't seem to be the case, and since I was just a few hours late in trying to buy tickets, I'm now stuck with neither a date nor a ticket to the show. Oh well. Such is life.
So then yesterday my wife told me that she's planning on taking the kids out of town next weekend to see their grandparents. Well that leaves me with a totally free weekend and yet another opportunity to find a date. So this time I decided to cut to the chase, and I posted an ad on craigslist for someone who might like to go with me to a rock show, a dance club, or even a comedy club next Saturday night. I explained that I am married and my wife is going to be out of town, but I'd like to keep it strictly platonic--just two adults having a fun time together instead of sitting at home alone for the night.
Well, no sooner did I post the ad when I got a reply from a girl. She said next Saturday is bad for her, but she was wondering if I might have any interest in going to see Keane in a couple weeks because she has an extra ticket.
So, looks like I have an opportunity, should I choose to accept it, to see Keane after all. With someone. A girl.
Oh and she's cute too. She sent me a pic.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Although the anticipation is wonderful, it wouldn't be fair to stop there, so I think I will continue where I left off on Sunday
Fast forward a little. You are still lying on your back, but now you are naked except for your bikini undies, and I have stripped down to my boxers. Hovering above you on all fours I lean down and kiss your lips gently, briefly, and then back off a little, searching deep into your beautiful eyes. Wanting the kiss to continue, you lift your arms up around my neck and raise your head slightly, pulling me down closer to you. Our lips meet again, soft and warm, and as you lay your head back down on the bed, pulling me with you, our mouths open slightly and our tongues begin to tease and play, our passion building quickly. Leaning on my elbows, I slide my hands around your bare shoulders, caressing your soft, beautiful skin. My cock, now fully erect and poking through the opening in my boxers, slides against your undies, sending shivers of pleasure through my body and causing you to squirm and raise your hips for more. I slide my hands behind your back, beneath your shoulder blades, and we pull each other closer, our tongues now searching deep into each other's mouths as we taste each other, lips locked together in lust.
To be continued...
Fast forward a little. You are still lying on your back, but now you are naked except for your bikini undies, and I have stripped down to my boxers. Hovering above you on all fours I lean down and kiss your lips gently, briefly, and then back off a little, searching deep into your beautiful eyes. Wanting the kiss to continue, you lift your arms up around my neck and raise your head slightly, pulling me down closer to you. Our lips meet again, soft and warm, and as you lay your head back down on the bed, pulling me with you, our mouths open slightly and our tongues begin to tease and play, our passion building quickly. Leaning on my elbows, I slide my hands around your bare shoulders, caressing your soft, beautiful skin. My cock, now fully erect and poking through the opening in my boxers, slides against your undies, sending shivers of pleasure through my body and causing you to squirm and raise your hips for more. I slide my hands behind your back, beneath your shoulder blades, and we pull each other closer, our tongues now searching deep into each other's mouths as we taste each other, lips locked together in lust.
To be continued...
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Has anyone ever been caught masturbating by someone other than your lover? I've been caught twice, but both times I was fairly young, so I'm not sure if it really counts. The first time was the most embarrassing of the two. It was a couple of teenage girls who caught me rubbing myself through by bathing suit underwater in the neighborhood swimming pool when I was probably about 11 or 12. One of them asked me if that was how I got my jollies. The other, perhaps a little embarrassed herself, told her friend to leave me alone, that I was just a kid. Talk about wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear! The second time was still embarrassing, but at least it was just my dad who walked in on me while I was in my bedroom. He promptly turned around and walked back out without saying anything. Stupid me, though, for not bothering to at least close my bedroom door. After those two incidents I've managed to stay stealthy all these years even though I regularly do it at work. I've even done it at my desk a few times, but that's pretty rare, and it presents some significant logistical hurdles which are often hard to overcome.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
As you can see I'm testing out a new logo today. I received other good ideas and sketches which I may use elsewhere on the site if I can get them to a finished form, but this chick in the red dress was all ready to go and very nicely done. And you don't want to keep a girl waiting when she's dressed to kill with her legs open. Plus, quite frankly I'm kind of hard for her. You know how I am about cartoon girls.
Let me know what you think. I'm still pondering the proper size, color, and placement of the type with respect to the logo, but at least on my computer this setup seems to look pretty good.
Let me know what you think. I'm still pondering the proper size, color, and placement of the type with respect to the logo, but at least on my computer this setup seems to look pretty good.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Oh, I almost forgot to give a big thank you to the sweet thing who sent me a shot of her pussy this weekend. Yummmmy! And shaved too. I'm salivating just thinking about it.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Just a teaser for today...
Right now I'm imagining you lying on your back, relaxing lazily on your bed, basking in the rays of the afternoon sun streaming in through the window of your room. You stretch your arms above your head, feeling sexy. Your shirt rides up a little, exposing your midriff.
I imagine myself in your room. Wanting to climb onto your bed and crawl over top of you, pinning your elbows, kissing your arms, your neck, your tummy. Spreading your legs so I can kneel between your thighs and nuzzle the crotch of your jeans with my face. Taking your sneakers off, but leaving your socks on.
Aren't those first few minutes the most erotic? Before your clothes come off.
The anticipation.
Drives me insane.
Right now I'm imagining you lying on your back, relaxing lazily on your bed, basking in the rays of the afternoon sun streaming in through the window of your room. You stretch your arms above your head, feeling sexy. Your shirt rides up a little, exposing your midriff.
I imagine myself in your room. Wanting to climb onto your bed and crawl over top of you, pinning your elbows, kissing your arms, your neck, your tummy. Spreading your legs so I can kneel between your thighs and nuzzle the crotch of your jeans with my face. Taking your sneakers off, but leaving your socks on.
Aren't those first few minutes the most erotic? Before your clothes come off.
The anticipation.
Drives me insane.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Last night I was browsing the "strictly platonic" ads on craigslist and came across a girl in her late 20s who was looking for someone to hang out with and maybe see a movie or go out for a few drinks. Perfect, I thought. Someone fun to hang out with with no expectations of hooking up. So I wrote her back and put my website at the bottom of the message. But she wrote back saying "yeah right," wondering how anyone could possibly be interested in meeting up with someone who has such a "colorful" blog or interests.
I think it's because I don't have a good logo yet. :)
I think it's because I don't have a good logo yet. :)
Friday, January 14, 2005
So for those of you who keep asking when you're going to get pics of me, let's say, just for the sake of argument, that you could take the pics yourself and could put me in any pose with any clothes (or lack thereof). And you could take two pictures. What would those two pictures be?
Lest I dissapoint, I'll just say that this question is strictly to satisfy my own curiosity. However, if I happen to get some free time, it wouldn't hurt to have some advance guidance, now would it?
Keep in mind, though, that it's just me and a point-and-shoot camera. Maybe a tripod if I'm lucky.
Suit and tie? Dress shirt? T-shirt? Boxers? Naked? Standing up? Sitting? Lying down? Aroused? Masturbating? Cum shot?
Lest I dissapoint, I'll just say that this question is strictly to satisfy my own curiosity. However, if I happen to get some free time, it wouldn't hurt to have some advance guidance, now would it?
Keep in mind, though, that it's just me and a point-and-shoot camera. Maybe a tripod if I'm lucky.
Suit and tie? Dress shirt? T-shirt? Boxers? Naked? Standing up? Sitting? Lying down? Aroused? Masturbating? Cum shot?
Thursday, January 13, 2005
I wish the friends I have in real life could read this blog and enjoy it and not think any less of me. I started this blog partially so that I could say whatever I wanted to say without worrying what my friends might think of me, and then, amazingly enough, I started to make friends here.
The typical guy who reads me apparently doesn't seem to mind that I'd like to bend his sister over the hood of my car and fuck her like an animal.
The typical girl who reads me apparently wouldn't mind being bent over the hood of my car and fucked like an animal.
How great is that?!
I guess this blog is self-pruning in that those who don't like what they read eventually move on, but those who like it stay and become my friends. Too bad I can't have you all over for a party. And what a wild party it would be, hey?
The typical guy who reads me apparently doesn't seem to mind that I'd like to bend his sister over the hood of my car and fuck her like an animal.
The typical girl who reads me apparently wouldn't mind being bent over the hood of my car and fucked like an animal.
How great is that?!
I guess this blog is self-pruning in that those who don't like what they read eventually move on, but those who like it stay and become my friends. Too bad I can't have you all over for a party. And what a wild party it would be, hey?
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
I don't think there were any strip clubs in the town where I went to college, and my friends and I never really ventured out of town very much back then, so it wasn't until my first year of grad school (by which time I had moved to the city where I currently live) that I actually went to my first strip club. It was a cheesy little shack on the side of a highway called the Starlight Lounge. I had passed it every day on my way to school, and one day curiosity got the best of me so I decided to venture inside. It was just a topless joint, but there was no cover, and the food and drink prices were very reasonable--the kind of place where you could basically just walk in and grab a quick drink whenever you had an urge to see some tits. But after about a half-hour the excitement wore off and I left, never to return again.
The next year a friend and I were downtown after an evening of scoping the singles bars when he suggested that we check out one of the "gentleman's clubs." The place was called Camelot, and it was a step up from the Starlight Lounge in that it was slightly more classy and the girls got totally naked. I guess looking at pussy is more interesting that looking at tits, because we stayed a little bit longer than I had stayed at the other place. But again, I eventually got bored and we left, never to go back.
Since some anachronistic city law prohibits anything more than a naked girl dancing around a pole, I doubt if I would have ever gone back to another strip club. But then a year or two later, upon starting my first job, my boss took me on a business trip to Ft. Lauderdale and decided to introduce me to what he called a real strip club.
And boy was it real.
Upon stepping into the place I felt like Dorothy landing in Oz. Not only were there lots of nude girls running around, but instead of sitting at tables and ordering food and drinks, each customer got his own love seat to share with one of the girls. And share they did. All around us, incredibly beautiful, young, naked girls were straddling customer's laps, grinding against them and jiggling their boobs in their faces. And on stage, the girls weren't just swinging around the pole, they were fucking the damn pole, masturbating, and lifting their legs up to their ears so you could see every detail of their pretty young pussies. And no sooner had we walked into the place when a gorgeous, naked, young thing walked up to me and asked if I would like her to take me into the back room so she could explain the club's "policies" to me while another naked little goddess was pulling my boss off in another direction.
For a young, married man like myself who was practically still on his honeymoon, the place was way more than I had bargained for and, to my credit, I was somehow able to squirm away from my "assigned" girl, grab my boss, and insist that we get the hell out of there. And once out in the car, even my boss who has been around the block many a time, admitted that this place was a little too fast for him.
He and I still laugh about that place from time to time, and I still wonder what exactly would have happened to me if I had gone into that back room.
But the difference between me then and now is that now I want to go back and find out. And this time I wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
The next year a friend and I were downtown after an evening of scoping the singles bars when he suggested that we check out one of the "gentleman's clubs." The place was called Camelot, and it was a step up from the Starlight Lounge in that it was slightly more classy and the girls got totally naked. I guess looking at pussy is more interesting that looking at tits, because we stayed a little bit longer than I had stayed at the other place. But again, I eventually got bored and we left, never to go back.
Since some anachronistic city law prohibits anything more than a naked girl dancing around a pole, I doubt if I would have ever gone back to another strip club. But then a year or two later, upon starting my first job, my boss took me on a business trip to Ft. Lauderdale and decided to introduce me to what he called a real strip club.
And boy was it real.
Upon stepping into the place I felt like Dorothy landing in Oz. Not only were there lots of nude girls running around, but instead of sitting at tables and ordering food and drinks, each customer got his own love seat to share with one of the girls. And share they did. All around us, incredibly beautiful, young, naked girls were straddling customer's laps, grinding against them and jiggling their boobs in their faces. And on stage, the girls weren't just swinging around the pole, they were fucking the damn pole, masturbating, and lifting their legs up to their ears so you could see every detail of their pretty young pussies. And no sooner had we walked into the place when a gorgeous, naked, young thing walked up to me and asked if I would like her to take me into the back room so she could explain the club's "policies" to me while another naked little goddess was pulling my boss off in another direction.
For a young, married man like myself who was practically still on his honeymoon, the place was way more than I had bargained for and, to my credit, I was somehow able to squirm away from my "assigned" girl, grab my boss, and insist that we get the hell out of there. And once out in the car, even my boss who has been around the block many a time, admitted that this place was a little too fast for him.
He and I still laugh about that place from time to time, and I still wonder what exactly would have happened to me if I had gone into that back room.
But the difference between me then and now is that now I want to go back and find out. And this time I wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
I see that I am now the #1 hit when you do a Google search for "Koochie"
I'm so proud.
I'm so proud.
Monday, January 10, 2005
I think Chick hit on an excellent idea by suggesting that I have cards printed up with my website on them. So rather than asking for a girl's phone number or giving out mine, I can just hand her a card. If she has a good sense of humor and is the type of girl that I might like to hear from again, she'll check out my site when she gets home. And if not, well, no big loss, right? The only problem is that I need a good logo for the card. It has to be appropriate to the site, but it should also be funny enough that she laughs when she sees it. I know that you are all quite a creative bunch, so if you can think of a good idea for a logo, please let me know. I know I've got a few ideas myself, but I need your help too. I'd appreciate anything from rough ideas to actual drawings. The winning logo will go on the printed cards and on the title bar of the Koochie Taster web site for all to see, along with appropriate credit to whoever contributes to its design.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
A couple of you were curious about what goes on when I go out to a club, so for those who are interested, here's an account of how things went for me at a dance club last night. I actually had a pretty good time, which is surprising because my previous experiences with dance clubs have generally been poor. Being a punk-rocker at heart, I tend to hate the synth-techno-pop music that they play at most of the dance clubs, but this place was a little different in that it is normally a rock club that hosts live bands, but once a month they do this dance club thing. So I tried it and was not disappointed. The music was still a little poppish, but not nearly as bad as my past experiences, and after a couple beers even some mediocre music can start to sound good.
When I walked in the door there was a short line of people waiting to pay the cover charge and have their IDs checked, so I got in line and the girl in front of me turned around and we smiled at each other. She was super cute and looked way too young. But then when they checked her ID and stamped her hand they gave her an over-21 stamp, which is old enough for me, so I made a mental note to find her later.
The layout of this club consists of a big room on the second floor, a medium-sized room on the first floor, and a smaller room, also on the first floor. The big room upstairs is basically a large dance floor with two long bars, one on either side. The medium-sized room downstairs has a large bar area, tables, couches, a pool table, and a jukebox. And then the smaller room has a small bar, a small dance floor, and a small stage. The best beer is in the medium-sized room, as is the huge, tall cigarette machine on top of which I usually stash my coat since there's no coat room. So that's where I went first. They have a Belgian beer on tap called Stella Artois which is very good. Because I had gotten a late start out of the house I decided to drive instead of take the subway, so I took just enough cash with me for the cover charge and three or four beers, assuring me a safe, sober drive home.
There was a pretty blonde girl about my age, maybe a little younger, standing around in the medium room with a group of guys and girls. She looked up when I came in the room and we smiled at each other. As it would turn out, we kept running into each other throughout the evening, eyes locking for a little too long, smiling at each other, but she never did leave her group and never went upstairs to the dance floor, and since I felt uncomfortable busting into her group, I never did get a chance to talk to her or dance with her. Stupid mistake #1.
After I got my beer I wandered over to the small room and noticed a sign indicating that there was a special party going on in there for bloggers. Yes, bloggers. WTF?! It was open to the public, so I went in to check it out. I wondered if people would be exchanging blog URLs or something. Wouldn't that be funny?
"Uh, yeah, so, I have a sex blog called Koochie Taster..."
But no. Instead it turned out to be pretty lame. Just a DJ and some people hanging out talking. Bored, I left and decided to head upstairs.
When I got upstairs the first thing I noticed was the cute little hottie who had smiled at me in line when I first came in. She was standing up against the wall all alone while plenty of other people were dancing. Passing her for the moment, I decided to recon the room, checking out the bars, the dance floor, and of course all the girls. There were tons of hot chicks, and everyone seemed to be in a good party mood. Out on the dance floor one of the girls came up to me and told me she loved my shirt which was actually brand new that night. Credit for that compliment goes to Vortexia for encouraging me to buy some new shirts. In retrospect, I should have stopped and danced with the girl who gave me the compliment, but I was still checking the place out and getting a feel for the atmosphere, so I just smiled, thanked her, and moved on, figuring I could find her again in a bit. Sadly I never did. Stupid mistake #2.
Eventually I doubled back and found the cutie who had been standing against the wall, although by this time she had found a table and was sitting down sipping a drink. A really good song (White Stripes - Hotel Yorba) had just started playing and, starting to feel like I was ready to dance, I went over to her, reached out my hand and said, "Dance with me?" She looked up, smiled, and then got up and followed me back to the dance floor. We danced for a while, and I took full advantage of the opportunity to admire her tight young body. She also had the prettiest eyes, and remined me a little bit of Winona Ryder. Eventually, though, some sucky song came on that she said she didn't want to dance to, so we headed back to her table. She looked so young that I asked her if she was a student, but she said that in fact she was a high-school teacher in the inner-city. For some reason they always put the young teachers fresh out of college into the worst high-schools in the biggest slums. I met some other hot, young, teacher chicks at a party a while back and the same was true for them. I guess it's a combination of lack of seniority and some sort of weed-out process. No wonder they have trouble getting good teachers. Anyway, after talking to her for a while I decided I wanted to play the field some more, so I told her I'd be out on the dance floor if she wanted to dance again. Unfortunately, by the time I got back to her table she had disappeared. I never did get her phone number. Stupid mistake #3.
So then at some point a while later I was standing by the bar about to order another beer when I noticed a very cute girl looking kind of confused. I asked her what was the problem and she said she was trying to find out if they take credit cards. I told her I didn't think so, cash only, at which point she said she didn't have any cash. The first thing I thought was that this was some sort of ploy to get me to buy her a drink, but then it occurred to me that this girl was so damn cute that it might be worth it to buy her a drink regardless. So I offered. At first she hesitated, saying that she didn't want to impose, but then she agreed. I bought a drink for each of us and, ploy or not, it turned out to be a good deal because she was very friendly and we ended up talking for quite some time. She said she was a college student who had just moved here for the spring semester with a group of other students on some sort of exchange program from a college in California. She wanted to know what were the good nightclubs in town, and we got to talking about the city and how it has improved so dramatically in recent years. Eventually, I chided her about nursing her drink and told her she better finish it off and get out on the dance floor. She polished it off and then said she wanted to find her friends who had come with her and were out on the dance floor somewhere. By this time I really needed to hit the john, though, so she told me to track her down later on if I wanted to dance with her.
After using the can I decided to go downstairs and see if anything new was happening at the "Blogger" party. There were more people, but it still didn't seem to have anything to do with blogging, and there weren't nearly as many cuties as there were on the second floor. So I hung out for a few minutes and then went back upstairs.
Making my way around the dance floor I eventually found the cute college girl again. When she saw me she yelled, "Hi KT!" and then proceeded to introduce me to her even cuter friend, Missy. Missy wanted to dance, so we danced together for a while. She was so cute it was hard to keep from grabbing her and kissing her, and her hot little body had me totally mesmerized as she moved to the music, occasionally brushing against me. The only problem with being out on the dance floor was that it was so loud we couldn't talk, so after a while I gestured to see if she'd like to move off of the floor to the back of the room where the tables were.
She seemed agreeable, and started to follow me, but as we went past the bar she stopped and asked me if I wanted to get a drink. I said yes, but then realized that I only had enough cash for one more drink so there was no way I'd be able to pay for hers. She ordered for both of us and I handed her my cash which she gave to the bartender. But of course it wasn't enough for both drinks and he told her he needed more. She paused for a moment and then pulled out her purse, fished around for the balance, and handed it to him. She then handed me my drink and I made a motion to continue heading over to the tables, but she said she wanted to go back to her friends. I wasn't sure whether she was miffed that I hadn't paid for her drink, whether she never understood me in the first place about wanting to go to the tables, or whether she really just wanted to go back and dance. So I felt a little awkward and said OK, deciding not to follow her back onto the dance floor. And anyway, by this time it was really getting quite late. It was after 1:00 and I had told my wife I would be home by 2:00. I hadn't had a chance to ask Missy or her cute friend for their phone numbers, but not being sure what had just happened at the bar, I decided it would be easier to just call it a night. So somewhere in there is what I'll call stupid mistakes #4 and #5.
So there it is. The report of my night in excruciating detail. I got there late and had to leave early, but I got to dance and chat with several very cute girls. My only regret is that I completely blew it with the phone numbers. But for my first time in years at a dance club I figure I didn't do so terribly bad. Now I just need to figure out when they're having this thing again. And next time I need to bring more cash and try to get my phone numbers as early on as possible. Any other suggestions? I would especially appreciate any advice on meeting and talking with the girls. One can never have too much help in that department.
When I walked in the door there was a short line of people waiting to pay the cover charge and have their IDs checked, so I got in line and the girl in front of me turned around and we smiled at each other. She was super cute and looked way too young. But then when they checked her ID and stamped her hand they gave her an over-21 stamp, which is old enough for me, so I made a mental note to find her later.
The layout of this club consists of a big room on the second floor, a medium-sized room on the first floor, and a smaller room, also on the first floor. The big room upstairs is basically a large dance floor with two long bars, one on either side. The medium-sized room downstairs has a large bar area, tables, couches, a pool table, and a jukebox. And then the smaller room has a small bar, a small dance floor, and a small stage. The best beer is in the medium-sized room, as is the huge, tall cigarette machine on top of which I usually stash my coat since there's no coat room. So that's where I went first. They have a Belgian beer on tap called Stella Artois which is very good. Because I had gotten a late start out of the house I decided to drive instead of take the subway, so I took just enough cash with me for the cover charge and three or four beers, assuring me a safe, sober drive home.
There was a pretty blonde girl about my age, maybe a little younger, standing around in the medium room with a group of guys and girls. She looked up when I came in the room and we smiled at each other. As it would turn out, we kept running into each other throughout the evening, eyes locking for a little too long, smiling at each other, but she never did leave her group and never went upstairs to the dance floor, and since I felt uncomfortable busting into her group, I never did get a chance to talk to her or dance with her. Stupid mistake #1.
After I got my beer I wandered over to the small room and noticed a sign indicating that there was a special party going on in there for bloggers. Yes, bloggers. WTF?! It was open to the public, so I went in to check it out. I wondered if people would be exchanging blog URLs or something. Wouldn't that be funny?
"Uh, yeah, so, I have a sex blog called Koochie Taster..."
But no. Instead it turned out to be pretty lame. Just a DJ and some people hanging out talking. Bored, I left and decided to head upstairs.
When I got upstairs the first thing I noticed was the cute little hottie who had smiled at me in line when I first came in. She was standing up against the wall all alone while plenty of other people were dancing. Passing her for the moment, I decided to recon the room, checking out the bars, the dance floor, and of course all the girls. There were tons of hot chicks, and everyone seemed to be in a good party mood. Out on the dance floor one of the girls came up to me and told me she loved my shirt which was actually brand new that night. Credit for that compliment goes to Vortexia for encouraging me to buy some new shirts. In retrospect, I should have stopped and danced with the girl who gave me the compliment, but I was still checking the place out and getting a feel for the atmosphere, so I just smiled, thanked her, and moved on, figuring I could find her again in a bit. Sadly I never did. Stupid mistake #2.
Eventually I doubled back and found the cutie who had been standing against the wall, although by this time she had found a table and was sitting down sipping a drink. A really good song (White Stripes - Hotel Yorba) had just started playing and, starting to feel like I was ready to dance, I went over to her, reached out my hand and said, "Dance with me?" She looked up, smiled, and then got up and followed me back to the dance floor. We danced for a while, and I took full advantage of the opportunity to admire her tight young body. She also had the prettiest eyes, and remined me a little bit of Winona Ryder. Eventually, though, some sucky song came on that she said she didn't want to dance to, so we headed back to her table. She looked so young that I asked her if she was a student, but she said that in fact she was a high-school teacher in the inner-city. For some reason they always put the young teachers fresh out of college into the worst high-schools in the biggest slums. I met some other hot, young, teacher chicks at a party a while back and the same was true for them. I guess it's a combination of lack of seniority and some sort of weed-out process. No wonder they have trouble getting good teachers. Anyway, after talking to her for a while I decided I wanted to play the field some more, so I told her I'd be out on the dance floor if she wanted to dance again. Unfortunately, by the time I got back to her table she had disappeared. I never did get her phone number. Stupid mistake #3.
So then at some point a while later I was standing by the bar about to order another beer when I noticed a very cute girl looking kind of confused. I asked her what was the problem and she said she was trying to find out if they take credit cards. I told her I didn't think so, cash only, at which point she said she didn't have any cash. The first thing I thought was that this was some sort of ploy to get me to buy her a drink, but then it occurred to me that this girl was so damn cute that it might be worth it to buy her a drink regardless. So I offered. At first she hesitated, saying that she didn't want to impose, but then she agreed. I bought a drink for each of us and, ploy or not, it turned out to be a good deal because she was very friendly and we ended up talking for quite some time. She said she was a college student who had just moved here for the spring semester with a group of other students on some sort of exchange program from a college in California. She wanted to know what were the good nightclubs in town, and we got to talking about the city and how it has improved so dramatically in recent years. Eventually, I chided her about nursing her drink and told her she better finish it off and get out on the dance floor. She polished it off and then said she wanted to find her friends who had come with her and were out on the dance floor somewhere. By this time I really needed to hit the john, though, so she told me to track her down later on if I wanted to dance with her.
After using the can I decided to go downstairs and see if anything new was happening at the "Blogger" party. There were more people, but it still didn't seem to have anything to do with blogging, and there weren't nearly as many cuties as there were on the second floor. So I hung out for a few minutes and then went back upstairs.
Making my way around the dance floor I eventually found the cute college girl again. When she saw me she yelled, "Hi KT!" and then proceeded to introduce me to her even cuter friend, Missy. Missy wanted to dance, so we danced together for a while. She was so cute it was hard to keep from grabbing her and kissing her, and her hot little body had me totally mesmerized as she moved to the music, occasionally brushing against me. The only problem with being out on the dance floor was that it was so loud we couldn't talk, so after a while I gestured to see if she'd like to move off of the floor to the back of the room where the tables were.
She seemed agreeable, and started to follow me, but as we went past the bar she stopped and asked me if I wanted to get a drink. I said yes, but then realized that I only had enough cash for one more drink so there was no way I'd be able to pay for hers. She ordered for both of us and I handed her my cash which she gave to the bartender. But of course it wasn't enough for both drinks and he told her he needed more. She paused for a moment and then pulled out her purse, fished around for the balance, and handed it to him. She then handed me my drink and I made a motion to continue heading over to the tables, but she said she wanted to go back to her friends. I wasn't sure whether she was miffed that I hadn't paid for her drink, whether she never understood me in the first place about wanting to go to the tables, or whether she really just wanted to go back and dance. So I felt a little awkward and said OK, deciding not to follow her back onto the dance floor. And anyway, by this time it was really getting quite late. It was after 1:00 and I had told my wife I would be home by 2:00. I hadn't had a chance to ask Missy or her cute friend for their phone numbers, but not being sure what had just happened at the bar, I decided it would be easier to just call it a night. So somewhere in there is what I'll call stupid mistakes #4 and #5.
So there it is. The report of my night in excruciating detail. I got there late and had to leave early, but I got to dance and chat with several very cute girls. My only regret is that I completely blew it with the phone numbers. But for my first time in years at a dance club I figure I didn't do so terribly bad. Now I just need to figure out when they're having this thing again. And next time I need to bring more cash and try to get my phone numbers as early on as possible. Any other suggestions? I would especially appreciate any advice on meeting and talking with the girls. One can never have too much help in that department.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Hmmm. If my calculations are correct, right about now Kathy should be getting reamed by her lover's cock.
This evening, as is the case with every evening in the winter, it was very dark when I got home from work and pulled the car up to the curb in front of my house. And as I got out of the car and was walking up towards my driveway I caught a little movement out of the corner of my eye. Looking up I saw that the movement was coming from the dining room window of our neighbor's house. The window was awash with warm, yellow light, a stark contrast to the pitch-black of the rest of the neighborhood. And in the middle of the window I could see the profile of J, my pretty neighbor girl, sitting at the dinner table with her family. It was just an outline that I could see. The shape of her face, her neck, her shoulders, and her hair tied back in a ponytail, cascading down her back. I stood there in the street for what must have been 15 or 20 seconds just admiring that dark silhouette. It's funny how something so totally simple can be so beautiful.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Anyone interested in going with me to see Keane, Bowling for Soup, or American Hi-Fi? Or any other show that piques your interest, for that matter. I know I've asked this before, but I still refuse to believe that none of you live near me. If you're still not sure where I live, send me an email and I will enlighten you. This Saturday I may even venture out to a Brit-Pop night at downtown club even though I normally like music with a bit more bite to it. But the Brit-Pop night is likely to be teeming with hotties, so it's kind of hard to pass up. Now that the holidays are over it's time for me to get back in the swing of things and do some going out at night. My favorite music is alternative, with a tendency towards punk, but I'm also a sucker for anything with a catchy beat that tends to draw an audience of hot chicks. And I like the intimacy of a city club much more than a big arena because the atmosphere is usually much more conducive to mingling and meeting people. But the truth is that although I enjoy practicing my flirting skills and trying to meet new girls, I would still much rather have a date for the night. Someone who is cute, smart, fun and who knows how to have a good time.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Since my blog is not work-safe, I basically have only two times during the day when I can post. Sometimes I can post something quick in the morning before I go to work, and then of course there's the evening which is when I do most of my posting.
Well, I'll have you know that a naughty pic I received from a certain blogger took up all my time this morning.
And then a veritable *truckload* of pics from another sweet blogger-girl plus some delicious, uh, accompanying documentation, so to speak, has totally monopolized my evening.
Since I can no longer think straight, I will have to leave you all without a proper post for today.
But, hey, there's always tomorrow...
Well, I'll have you know that a naughty pic I received from a certain blogger took up all my time this morning.
And then a veritable *truckload* of pics from another sweet blogger-girl plus some delicious, uh, accompanying documentation, so to speak, has totally monopolized my evening.
Since I can no longer think straight, I will have to leave you all without a proper post for today.
But, hey, there's always tomorrow...
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
I just can't thank you ladies fast enough. Just in the last day two more girls have sent me pics of themselves. Seems like Christmas keeps going and going for the Koochie Taster this year. Someone's gonna have to wipe this guilty grin off my face...
And as if that wasn't enough, the Virgin Slut has me very hard today. When I think about virgins I usually think more about their young beauty and innocence rather than explicitly about having sex with them because the idea of having sex with someone who is overly awkward and unable to relax just doesn't excite me too much. But I would have no fears about awkwardness if I had the opportunity to boink the Virgin Slut. She sounds like she'd be just the right combination of innocence and horniness. Clearly she has had plenty of experience, loves to have fun in bed, and is just dying for the right moment for a man to take her all the way.
And as if that wasn't enough, the Virgin Slut has me very hard today. When I think about virgins I usually think more about their young beauty and innocence rather than explicitly about having sex with them because the idea of having sex with someone who is overly awkward and unable to relax just doesn't excite me too much. But I would have no fears about awkwardness if I had the opportunity to boink the Virgin Slut. She sounds like she'd be just the right combination of innocence and horniness. Clearly she has had plenty of experience, loves to have fun in bed, and is just dying for the right moment for a man to take her all the way.
Monday, January 03, 2005
I think we had intercourse last night. My wife was unusually amorous, and I'd like to say that we really did do it, but I'm hesitant just because there were still plenty of issues. Issues like, for example, I couldn't cum inside her because she refuses to use any form of birth control (she's one of those people who believes in doing everything "naturally") and she wasn't sure if it was a fertile time of the month. And issues like, she would only let my cock about two inches into her pussy because it was starting to hurt. She did let me kiss the area around the top of her slit, but no lower. It was definitely very frustrating that I couldn't thrust my cock all the way in and feel her warm, wet flesh wrapped all around me, nor could I bury my face in her pussy and get my nose, mouth, and chin all drenched with her delicious juices. And I so wanted to unload deep inside of her. But still, it was the farthest that we've gone in a long time, and much better than flying solo as I usually do.
So, you ask, what prompted her to be so amorous all of a sudden? Good question. I'm not totally sure myself, although there's an outside chance that it may have had something to do with the fact that I told her about a funny conversation I had with a girl at work the other day. First she wanted to know, "Who is this girl?" and then, "And how do you know her?" Sounds like maybe she was a little jealous that I was talking to a girl at work. But hey, if that's what it takes to get her to pay attention to me then so be it.
So, you ask, what prompted her to be so amorous all of a sudden? Good question. I'm not totally sure myself, although there's an outside chance that it may have had something to do with the fact that I told her about a funny conversation I had with a girl at work the other day. First she wanted to know, "Who is this girl?" and then, "And how do you know her?" Sounds like maybe she was a little jealous that I was talking to a girl at work. But hey, if that's what it takes to get her to pay attention to me then so be it.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
I went to a party at one of the neighbor's houses yesterday afternoon. It was kind of an excuse to nurse your hangover from New Year's Eve while drinking a little more champagne. Everybody on our block had been invited, and I was really itching to go because I wanted to get some face time with the hot neighbor girl, who we'll call J, because she has been home visiting her parents this past week. In fact I was so enthusiastic about seeing her that I walked over to the party about an hour before my wife did. And sure enough, J was there looking about as beautiful as a human being can look. Although I've seen her around from time to time, it's been several years since I've had a chance to talk to her. And how time flies. During those several years she went away to college, graduated, and is now in grad school. Now that she's a real adult I felt perfectly comfortable talking to her at length in front of her parents. And let me tell you, she has really become quite the fun, friendly young woman. I had a blast talking to her. But then a funny thing happened. I saw a guy at the party who I've never seen before, so I held out my hand and introduced myself, thinking maybe he was a new neighbor. But, in a terrible shock to my system, he introduced himself as J's fiance!
Crap!
Realistically though, I am very happy for the two of them, and her fiance is a really nice guy too. In fact, he and I talked for a while, and it turns out we have some things in common. But I have to admit that it's always a bummer when a hot, single girl gets crossed off the list. Oh well. Who knows, maybe ten years down the road I'll see her at a party again and the scenario will go more like it did with Kathy.
Crap!
Realistically though, I am very happy for the two of them, and her fiance is a really nice guy too. In fact, he and I talked for a while, and it turns out we have some things in common. But I have to admit that it's always a bummer when a hot, single girl gets crossed off the list. Oh well. Who knows, maybe ten years down the road I'll see her at a party again and the scenario will go more like it did with Kathy.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
I learned an important lesson last night. If you're going to IM a hot girl who owns a web cam and is horny, buzzed, willing to share, and wearing nothing but a white silk chemise at 12:30 AM on New Years Day, you better darn well be ready for some action. She was the only one online last night, and silly me, I thought I was just going to wish her a happy new year and then go off to sleep.
Boy was I wrong.
Groggy as I was, she managed to wake me up long enough to cum good and hard, just as my laptop battery died. If only my stupid Trillian web client had been able to receive the video. Note to self: fix that problem ASAP!
Thanks, babe! And I'm sorry if I seemed so out of it. But you sure started my new year off with a bang!
Boy was I wrong.
Groggy as I was, she managed to wake me up long enough to cum good and hard, just as my laptop battery died. If only my stupid Trillian web client had been able to receive the video. Note to self: fix that problem ASAP!
Thanks, babe! And I'm sorry if I seemed so out of it. But you sure started my new year off with a bang!
