Sexting and Teens: you write it, it's yours

For some reason the teens I know keep writing things on impulse!  Oh wait, that’s how the teen brain operates.  We are in a scary new world of written communication.  There are texts, and face book messages, and tweets, and all of them are out there for lots of people to see.

Unfortunately teens do not think about this before they go to type a message, and or post a naked picture of themselves.  It seems like common sense to me that you do not threaten to beat up another kid on the wall of face book or text someone that you want to kill them, but apparently common sense does not rein any longer!

The most disturbing example is “sexting”.  Teens write things to each other that are intimate and private.  A lot of the time the things being written are also graphic, and scary to parents who happen to pick up their kids phones.  It is bad enough to know that your kids are probably talking to the person they like/are dating in a sexual manner, it is another thing to come across a really gory detailed text message.

Teens: I know it is hard to stop the freight train of energy and passion that propels you forward into the heat of the moment text and/or face book message, but please try to remember that what you write will most likely be seen by way more people than you intended.  It may result in fights with friends, break ups with girlfriends/boyfriends, parent(s) being really upset, colleges denying your application, jobs turning you down etc.

Be careful what you put on your phone and the internet.  If you are not sure you would want your mom to know about what you are writing you might want to do it the old fashioned way and pick up a phone and actually call the person you want to talk to.  Tell them what you have to say so that their is no paper trail.  Beware of the paper trail!!!

Parents: Talk to you kids about what can happen with the information they put on the internet and through text.  It is unrealistic to think they will not text, IM, and face book, and it will go a long way toward keeping them safe and happy the more you can explain how to enjoy media without getting into unintended trouble.  Teens need to find a happy medium between letting it all hang out and hiding under a rock.

Remember that you are amazing and worth loving no matter what you texted last night, (try to stay out of trouble ))!

Pyaari Saali Shushma

Here is different type of real story of my real saali her name is shushma but pet name is summi she had a golden experience with me. She herself said me this. But she is very shy girl I give her confidence then she had told what happened in her life before and after nine months there after. So the story has divided into two parts: here I am narrating this story in her own words.

I am summi. In my family we are two sis and widow mother my elder has got married since two years. I got married in last three months ago. After marriage I come to my parent house first time. On that very day in the afternoon my mother was sleeping in the drawing room I recalled some memories then post man rang the bell I rushed at the door there a message from my jiju he is coming there by evening, I told my mother, she listen and  sleep again. I went to my bed room and put telegram on my chest aur purani yaadon me kho gayii .

It is month of very heavy cold when my sis come with my jiju at our house my mother has to go uncle’s house as he was in hospital so I was alone on that day. I welcomed both my sis and jiju, we had a long talk with both. We ate nice dinner at night then again we talked together. karib 11 jiju upar sone chale gaye. Me and my sis we both discussed about my marriage and we separated at 12-30 late night didi went upstairs and I went to my bed room, at about 2 I awaked from deep sleep I came out from my room and saw that lights were on at upstairs’ room I slowly went up I heard some noise and go near to window which was opened. Didi aur jiju ekdam nange the jiju didi ki chuchiya masal rahe the jiju ka lund didiki choot mai tha jiju chodate the aur didi muskurakar uska utsah badha rahi thi to kabhi kabhi munh se siskariya nikalti thi dono chudai ka pura maja le rahe the ye dekhkar mera dil bhi machal gaya maine apni chuchi ko pakad kar dabaya sanse phool gayi tab jiju upar letkar didi ko param sukh dene lage didi bhi jiju ko pakad kar bahon me kas ne lagi jiju jor jor se chodane lage the unka pura Lund bahar aata tha aur phachhh.. ki awaz ke sath didi ki gadrayii choot me ghus jata tha.. baap re kya dhakke the. Jiju ka mota aur lamba Lund dekh kar mai to dar gayi , sochane lagi didi kaise itane mote Lund ko apani choot ke andar le rahi hai. dono bilkul jhadane ke karib aagaye the didi chahuki mai jhad rahi hu jiju utavle ho ke didi ko chodne lage didi ne pavo ka jod kar apne jism par jiju ko dabaya ki jiju bhi kas ke shot marte huye jhad gaye.

Is tarah jiju aur didi ko chodte maine paheli bar dekha . Karib10minute tak jiju ne didi ko mere samane chodte rahe didi ne bhi khub maja liya ab dono ek dusre ko chum kar chodai ki khushi ka jashan mana rahe the. Ye sab dekh kar mai bhi bahut garam ho gayi thi mere hotho aaj hi kisi ko chumana chahte the mneri dono chuchiya kafi kadak ho chuki thi jaise ki badi afusos  kar rahi ho,choot me se pani nikal gaya tha pura badan tadapne laga tha aur meri halat hi bigad gayi thi bin pani jaise machali tadap ti hai us tarah mere bhi  jism kaam ki aag me jal raha tha jiju aur didi ka pyaar khatam ho chukka tha jyada der rahne ka ab koi maksad nahi tha mai niche aa gayi.aur bathroom me ghus gayi jalate badan ko kaise shant karu ye sochati thi ki meri najar shower par padi lekin paani khub thanda hoga phir bhi maine khud apni gown ko hatadi uske hat te hi dono gulabi chuchiya kale rang ki bra mai bahar aa gayi is wakt chuchiya bra ko phad kar mukt hona chahti thi maine turant bra ko nikal diya hay re muje kya ho gaya apne ape me rah na saki dhire se dono chuchiyo ko pakad kar sahlae dabane lagi mai aur garam hogayi nipple ko masal te hi mere muh se aahe nikalne lagi hay re hay ye kya kar diya jijaji tumne mujhe …  hay mar jaugi thodi der tak chuchyo ko dabana sahlana aur masalne ke baad maine ghaghara nikal diya kyu ki meri choot mast ho kar fadak rahi thi aur usme se lagataar paani beh raha tha.Wo bechain  gayi thi. ghaghara khol kar sirf panty me aagayi to choot kehane lagi ye kya kar rahi hai summi muje bhi nanga kar do maine turant panty nikal kar pura badan nanga kar diya dhire dhire choot par ungli pherne lagi to mithi mithi gudgudi hone lagi kya karu meri samajh mai kuchh nahi aata tha abhi mere dimag se dono ki chudai ka khel nahi dur hua tha. sach jiju ne khoob jam kar didi ko choda tha isliye meri chuchiya bhi kadi ho gayi thi. dhirese ghoomkar shower ke pass gayi kholkar dekha to paani bahut thanda tha badan pa dalun ya na dalu .jism abhi bhi garam tha pani haath me lete hi badan kapane laga dhire dhire pani me haath rakh kar garam hone ki raah dekh ne lagi badan par kaise daalu…

Jiju

apni patni ke saath pyar ka khel khel ne baad maine dekha to ummi ki aankhe moodane lagi thi ab thodi hi der me vo so jayegi maine lund ko rumal se saaf kiya aur fresh hone ke liye towel ko lagakar niche utarne laga bathroom ki taraf jab niche aaya to bathroom me se pani girane ki aavaz aa rahi thi  jalti hui roshani ko dekhkar chaok gaya dhire se bathroom ke karib aaya kaun hoga ya shayad koi bhul gaya hoga ye sochke darvaje ke karib pahuch gaya darvaja khula lagata hai hole se darvaja kholne laga khulte hi meri aakho ko vishavas nahi hua itna sundar najara dekh ne ko milega. meri saali summi ke jism par ek bhi kapada nahi tha puri nangi thi mai dekhata hi raha uksi pith meri aur thi usko bhi pata nahi tha ke mai andar aa gaya hu. Dhirese darvaja band kiya shower ki aavaj me bandh karne ki aavaz dab ke rah gayi maine karib 3 feet ki doorise summi ki pith ko dekha badi sunder lag rahi thi ukse dono nange kulho ko dekh te hi mai machal ne laga kya chootad hai bade mote aur chaude. Mere muhme paani aa gaya aur Lund fir se fanfanaa gaya.

Maine towel ko jism se alag kiya ab mai bhi nanga ho gaya abhi bhi vo pani ki bundo se khel rahi thi .hay re kitni gori aur chikani haimai uski javani ko dekh kar betab sa hogaya. Dhire se aage badha ek do aur teen kadam ka fasala pura kar ke piche se dono haatho ko bagal ke paas se aage karte hi mere haatho me hapus kairy aa gayi dire se sparsh hi kiya ki vo chillaii kaun hai aur jor se meri bahon me se dur ho gayi aur ghoom gayi jiju tum maine uska nanga jism dekha dono phal kade the bade bhi the brown ring ke biche uski nipul kampan karne lagi apne aap ko rok na saka aur saali ko first time baho me jorse daba diya chuchiya sine se lag gayi summi ke hotho ko upar uthaya chumne laga fir uski ankho ko chooma. Summi ke mamme urmi se jyada kadak the , size me thode chhote the, maine uske honto ko chusna shuru kar diya aur peeche hathle ja kar uske chootad ko sehlate huye gaand ko dabaya. aur baari baari pure badan ko chumne laga ek haath do pavo ke bich daal ke gori khubsurat choot ko sahalane laga. Uski choot ekdum saaf thi ek bhi baal nahi tha, gulabi darar thi sirf. Lekin usme se paani nikal raha tha. Maine ek ungli waha lagayi aur fir use chaat liya.. namkeen juice nikal raha tha.

Baar baar door hone ki koshish karti rahi lekin nakamyab kar diya maine kadi chuchiya dabane laga to summi ke muh me se siskariya nikal ne lagi mai samaj gaya aur andhadhudh chuchiyo khade khade chumne dabane laga chuchiyon me aur nikhar aane laga uska badan garam hone laga vo apne aap ko sambhal na pa rahi thi ki kya karu tab maine niche jhukkar uski jangho par chuban lagaye vo sihar uthi ye kya kar rahe ho itna kahena hi tha ki ohhhhhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhhhh… hay re oho ho ho aahhhhhhh ree maine uske love point ko chubno se bhar diya vo sihre ne lagi hay jiju ye kya kiya tumne… bina bole hi maine use apne haatho me uthaya bathroom ka darvaja kholke light off karke uske bed room ki taraf le gaya.

Summi

ander aate hi muje bister lita diya darvaja bolt kiya tube light ki roshani mai meri nangi javani ka ras pine ke liye taiyar ho gaye mere jism ke upar adhikar se apne hoth fislane lage pura badan ek baar nahi kai baar chumte rahe jism garam hone laga par mai kya karti mere chuchiya aur choot par jiju ne pura dabav dal diya tha jiske karan mai masti se jhoomne lagi thi jiju ne jab meri chuchiyo hole hole dabaya to vo kadi ho gayi phir jhookkar usne pyare nippl ko muhame rakh kar chusne lage dusari chuchi dusare haath se dabate masalte rahe ki mera jism bag bag ho gaya adal badal karki puri 10 minutes tak chuchyo se khelte rahe phir dono hatho ko dono chuchiyo par rakh kar pyar se masalne lage meri bolti hi bandh ho gayi sach bahut maja aa raha tha phir bhi nakhare karti mai jaan chuki thi ki aaj jiju meri chudai karke hi rahege . aaj meri choot ki seal tutane wali hai. meri tej siskariya mera tanav sab kuchh dekh kar ye hi chahne lagi thi mai bhi lipat jau aur jor se chuchiyo unke seene me daba loon., par sharmati thi usne meri nigoho me pyar ka ezhar dekha to kahane lage sharmati kyu ho aa jao meri baho me meri raani aur mai jorse lipat gayi do badan ek dusre se ragadne lage meri sanse fulne lagi vo teji se apne goal kiaur aage badhane lage 10 minutes tak ham dono ne ek dusare pura chuma sahalya mane pahli baar sharmat sharmate uske lund ko pakada to badan me bijili daud gayi puri romanchit hogayi .Lund kyat ha moosal tha.. lamba aur mota, ekdum garam.. mere hatheli me sama nahi raha tha. Use maine pakda to uchalne laga. paheli baar jiju ne kaha meri jaan uske saath khelo sharmao mat ab hum dono me sharam kaisi.

Mera badan bahut hi garma chukka tha par mera man ye sab karna nahi chahta tha kya karu ya na karu tab jiju ne upar chadke meri nipplo ko chubhalane lage .ab mujse raha nahi jata tha man aur tan ki ladayi me aakhir jit tan ki huyi man haar gaya jiju ko jor se apne upar dabaya unhone chuchi ko chhod ke meri aur dekha phir mere hotho ne uske hotho ko chuliya aur bada bhuchal macha hum donone ji bhar ke chuban pan kiya vo muskuraye mere upar se uth kar unhone choot ki taraf dekha gili ho gayi thi ab unhone pavo ko chauda kiya to meri choot puri dikhane lagi meri gulabi choot ko dekhkar bole summi sach bahut hi chikani hai teri ye choot bina baal ki gori ubhari huyi choot ke upar jhuke aur meri sanse tel hogayi choot ke hotho ko apne hotho se chumane lage mai siskarne lagi tab uski jeebh choot me daal di meri to halat kharaab ho gayi..meri ahe ahhhhhhhhhhhha uffff uireeeeeee kamare me  gujne laga hare… ha… ha, ahhhhh ahhhhhhhh jiju ne bade pyar se meri choot me chusna chumna jibh se karne lage mai dusari baar jhad gayi phir bhi usne muje nahi chhoda sarrrrr sarrrrrrrrrr ras pine lage hay re kya kar rahe ho ab mujse ye saha nahi jata aao mere jiju aur apni ye pyari saali ko chodo ji bhar ke chodo usne mera invitation sweekar liya choot se alag ho gaye thoda upra kiya to main dang rah gayi uska lund pura tan chukka tha bada mota tha ab ye Lund meri choot me ghusega ye soch kar mai ghabharai. Usne dono pavo ko upar leke chauda kiya meri choot uske samane aa gayi dhire a[ne Lund ko faili hui choot ke upar tikaya fir Lund ka mota supada meri sankri choot ki darar ke upar ragadne lage.. meri halat aur kharab hone lagi.. mai ab  ahe bharne lagi usne dhire dhire meri choot par ragadne lage mai u i maa u i maa karne lagiuf u iiiiiiiiiiiii re ragana aur tej kiya mere to hosh hi ud gaye pagal ho gayi aahhhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhhhh uiiiiiiiiiii uiiiiiiiii karane lagi.
Tab usne aasan sajaya upar chadh ke choot me center kiya Lund ko phir ek dhakka jor se lagaya mere muhse cheekh nikal gai hay re mar gayiiiiiii dard se meri jaan nikal gayi aansoo bhi nikal aaye par Lund andar ja chukka tha chuchiyo jor jor se dabaya masalan se muje rahat milli to usne dusara dhakka jao se mara choot me se khoon nikalne laga meri to jaan nikli thi meri seal tut gayi thi mai chilla uthi.. jijuuuuu..nikal do use nikal do kahate rone chillane lagi phir vohi khel khela chuchiyo ko pakad kar bade jor jorse dabane lage par Lund nahi nikala dard to hota tha par thoda maja bhi milane laga phir usne kandhe pakad kar Lund ko jorse dabaya mai chikh uthi par usne kas kas kar dhakke par dhakke marte hi rahe jis tarah didi ko chod rahe the thik usi tatarh kiya muje pata nahi chala dhakko ki rafatar ke saath ki Lund pura choot me sama chukka hai vo chodne lage thode thode antar ke bich dhakke marate rahe meri choot mese pani nlkalne laga .. mujhe masti aa gayi.. aur mai 2-3 baar jhadi..phir bhi jiju chodte rahe dard dhime dhime halka ho gaya thodi maja milane lagi ab vo pura josh dikhane lage speed bathai to mai bol padi jiju or tej jiju or tej vo puri tarah speed bathate muje chodne lage.

Fach fach facha fach ki surili avaj kamare gunjne lagi aur tej aur tej….phir speed bathai fachfachfachfach fach… aahhhhhhhhh aaahhhhhhhhhh shabash mere raja aur chodo aur tejj hayre…ahah ahhhhh ahhhhhhh jiju puri masti se dhakke dhakke maae maae ke muje chudai maja dene lage vo upar aagye tej raftar kar di mere upar chhane lage meri choot paani se laba lab ho gayi tej tej dhakke jiju chodte chodte phalo ko chusane lage muje dugana maja aane laga mai apne aap mai nahi thi pura badan jiju ke saath chdai ka such bhogne laga tha aavaj me parivartan hua facha facha ke badale pach pach pach pach ki madhur dhwani gujane lagi jiju ji jan se chodte the par meri aur unki sanse tej tej hone lagi thi apne par kabu nahi paa rahe the ki usne tej dhakka e dhakke marate mere badan pe aagaye maine dono haatho ko piche karke chuchiyo par jor se dabaye pavo ko modkar piche le ke jor se Lund ko choot mai dabaya to vo tej tej dhakke marne lage meri ahho se kamara gunja.. nahi jiju ab der mat karo aa jao mere badan ko daba do usne kas kas ke 10-12 dhakke mare aur mere badan ko kas liya tej dhar ki pichkaariyan choot me giri mai bhi jhad gayi dono ka milan hua.

Thodi der tak mere badan par sogaye bad me uth kar bole sach summi tumari chuchiya aur rasili choot ka koi javab nahi chuchiyo ko jor se dabaya aur choot ko dekha haath fera aur kamare mai se nange bahar nikal gaye. Mai sochne lagi kay yahi sach hai

Is tarah meri kuvari choot ko pehla maja mere jiju se mila ek baar chod kar unhone muje saali se aadhi kya puri gharvali bana diya

After six month i got married now i am happy with my husband but i cannot forget my first ever chudai till today

Sex by the Glass. Chapter I: The Shiraz Wine Rep

SEX BY THE GLASS
Eight Short Stories of Wine und Sex
By Ivan Loyola

“Let me introduce you to the world of Shiraz”. The woman standing in front of me was tall, prepossessing, self confident to the point of being aggressive and definitely red, both in hair and personality, fiery and determined, voluptuous and with an unlikely touch of spice showing through the mischievous glint of her tea-green eyes. Her accent was thick as the wine she poured for me in the long-stemmed chalice she held in a hand that had less of a hand than of an eagle’s claw. It fashioned a gold band around one of its fingers, which made me think she was married, which she was, although, as I would understand later, in her own words, “it didn’t matter”.

I had met her a month earlier, at a wine tasting to which I, a firm believer in European lager when times were good and local piss when cash -strapped, was dragged by a friend whose girlfriend had left him a few days earlier. “The bitch” he growled “went for this young uneducated buck who struck it rich working in construction”. He paused and looking distant he mumbled “the damn Olympic Games.” Hmm…. I thought my friend might’ve been a bit jealous. I knew he had applied –without luck- for a couple of jobs in the booming construction industry of Vancouver’s first decade of the third millennium. “Wine tasting? Fuck that”, I said, with a resolve that only a Neocon willing to launch a bombing campaign on a Muslim nation could boast. “I’m not drinking that stuff, it gives me headaches”, I added, thinking myself out of the hook. “Sorry man” he said, with a confidence that reminded me of the monies I owed him. “Tomorrow you’re supposed to pay back the interest. I could forgo it if you come”. I didn’t have a bargaining chip. “Ok”, I said. “With the condition that we will go and drink ourselves silly with beer before hitting the snob crowds”. “No problem”, he grinned. As it usually happens in my life, I had let somebody else decide for me.

The great 1998 Australian Shiraz wine tasting. That is where I met Jennifer Audrey Sarah Wilkinson, the potent red beauty that kept looking at me with piercing eyes while I sipped the mesmerizing, ruby red liquid. The Convention Centre at Canada place gleamed like a jewel under the twilight of that wondrous summer night. I looked at the reddish stuff, feeling like a sacrificial lamb. I took a deep breath and lifting the glass, I tried to detach from myself, in the way prostitutes are instructed to do while exercising the trade of the flesh. “Wait!” She said, with a commanding energy in her voice that would have been impossible not to obey. Her hand grabbed my forearm and removed the glass from my hand, with the simultaneous determination and gentleness that only the daughters of Aphrodite can wield, either as a weapon or a charm, depending on the situation. Tall enough to lean over the table she pulled me toward her, putting her mouth a few inches from my ear. A whiff of eucalyptus came off her hair, a scent that –I would find later- was the hallmark of her favorite Australian shampoo brand. “First you have to swirl it” she whispered, or I thought she did, half drunk as I was. “Yeah, just like that, give it a few good swirls”. Her voice was now soft and velvety, her eyes followed the circular motion of her hand holding the glass. One would have said she was enamored with the whole ritual. She looked at me with all the intensity of her eyes, the green tea tone of her irises highlighted by the dark mascara she had artfully applied. This I learned later, when dating a Mediterranean woman who, in spite of her rather paltry beauty, made herself into a radiant female through the masterful use of make up. I tried the swirling myself, clumsily, my hand going back and forth in a choppy fashion. Then something incredible happened. “Hold on” she said, and her hand landed on mine, and holding the glass together she showed me what she meant. “See, it’s easy if you just do it gently, from one side to the other, in wide open circles, just like that”. As she said this I felt the warm pressure of her hand on my knuckles, the dexterity of her wrist bending mine back and forth as we swirled, together. In that moment I knew this woman who insisted to be called by all three given names would teach me much more than just wine tasting. Or at least, that is what I thought. What do you see? She asked me. I looked up and saw her healthy, beautifully layered hair. Red and thick? I ventured. She stared at me approvingly. “A quick learner, aren’t you?”. She was talking not about wine, I figured, but about herself, and so was I. Soon I would learn the joys and sorrows of drinking Australian Shiraz….

stay tuned….

My Heart Is Heavy, I Have Been Watching The News.

I have not blogged here since August 5th. I have made a decision to be more regular with this blog and my other blog “Regina’s Family Seasons“.

This blog was originally set up for me to just talk about the news, but alas it was depressing me. I am going to dig a little deeper after tonight’s post to find some news that is uplifting and positive.
But for tonight my heart is heavy…
I am highlighting and linking to 5 news stories that have me on my knees crying out to the Father.

1. Derrion Albert 16 year old honors student beaten to death on the way home from a Chicago school. Video of Derrion Albert’s beating HERE.
2. China Arnold, 28 years old found guilty of killing her 1 month old baby Parris Talley.  The drunken China Arnold allegedly put the baby in the microwave and cooked her for more than 2 minutes.
3. 240 Dead in Philippines flooding.  Bodies are still being discovered amongst all of the devastation of last weeks floods in Manila.
4. According to Fox News,  a mother Larhonda Marie McCall was arrested in Oklahoma City for allegedly abusing and holding her 14-year-old son captive, often in a closet for 4 1/2 years.
5. McKenzie Phillips former child star of the sitcom “One Day At A Time”  comes clean about a drug induced, molestation turned consensual, incestuous sexual relationship with her father.  Her father was famed singer/musician John Phillips of the 60’s pop group Mamas and Papas.  McKenzie’s stepmother, Michelle Phillips also of the Mamas and Papas is denying the story, but McKenzie’s younger sister Bijou Phillips (also an actress) says she knew about it.  Now whether this “relationship” started out as abuse/molestation and then over the years turned into a consensual relationship only they know.  The fact that her father not only introduced her to drugs BUT also supplied her with drugs; and the fact that her father repeatedly had sexual relations with her, for a period of 10 years is my issue.  Our jobs as parents is to love, protect, nurture and train up a child.  What this “parent” did was beyond disgusting, beyond despicable, beyond horrific.  There are no words for this atrocity.  I pray that she can move beyond the media backlash and finally move on with her life.

So as you can see the news is definitely weighing on my heart.  As I sit here typing this post, I look up at my daughter across the room, watching television, as she rubs her belly perhaps soothing the child inside.  I am thinking what kind of world are you about to enter into little one?  What lies in wait for you?  The harder it gets to pray means the more needed the prayers are…

My heart is heavy…

9.25.9 - Friday Night Blues

I can’t say that I behaved myself Friday night at Red River. I only danced with Aldine, the cowboy from the week before who I ran out on after getting him all worked up. While driving to the club I was so nervous. Daisy had chosen the outfit: my new pair of Levis that hug my curves like a second skin, my custom belt buckle, ropers, and a tiny tight white spaghetti strap tank. My long blonde hair was full with volume and slightly curly from being in a braid all day. I looked incredible. The butterflies donned flaming wings that night as I walked through the doors. I could feel eyes on me as I approached the bar and waited several minutes for a single beer. The line for the bar was 4 deep, the chicks infront of me ordering several fruity mixed drinks. When I ordered a single bud light I believe I saw the waitress sigh with relief. I was going to just walk for a bit as the djs were on their raunchy and classic songs binge. After pushing my way through the lines of the bar I stopped to tuck the change back into my pockets. When I looked up I saw Aldine grinning at me. I felt myself blushing, the heat rising to the my cheeks. Daisy crooned as I looked over him. He was built thick and lean at the same time, taller than me with huge arms. When he waved I remembered how great those hands felt on my hips and crawling across my stomach. I made my way toward him and he quickly extended an arm, lacing it around my shoulders. After a while the slower songs started to play and we danced to almost each one. He taught me how to waltz, leading me quickly over the floor and spinning me around, catching me by the hips to guide me back toward him. His kisses were tender and heated, his fingers snaking through my hair and pulling my head to the side to plant a trail of kisses along my throat. My song came on, “Friday Night Blues”, and I sang along as he lead me over the dance floor. I was in heaven. The raunchy songs began to play again and I earned several whistles and cheers from his friends as I dropped low, grinding against his thigh. He pulled me back up against him, almost off my feet, and covered my mouth with his. I was dizzy, drunk from his eager tongue, his fingertips searing hot as they crept across my flesh. “Texas Angel” by Honey Browne came over the speakers and all the lovers gathered onto the floor. Aldine took the beer out of my hand and put it down then led me out onto the dance floor. He serenaded me as he held me close to him, pulling me dangerously close, “Smile for me my Texas Angel…It’ll be alright…” I tried hard not to stumble over his feet as he pressed me against his chest, our cheeks brushing. After a while I closed my eyes and relaxed, allowing his body to lead me. The room was spinning. When the song ended another slow two step started and this time he was merciful enough to hold me away from him, leaving Daisy hungry for the warmth of his body. He asked me if I had any kids, when I shook my head he confessed that he had three. The oldest being 16. He’s 35, not married, but married before for 13 years. ”Are you disappointed?” I was confused…why was he asking?…I told him, with a sincere smile, that No…I wasn’t disappointed. When the song ended I told him I had better go…but I wanted him to walk me out if that was okay. He took my hand and led me out. As soon as we left the raucous of the club I turned to him, “I’m sorry…I have a boyfriend but I just,” and he wouldn’t let me finish. He took my arms and turned me to him, “You want to him fun.” I laughed and nodded, feeling tears press against my eyes. He told me he also had a girlfriend.  She was younger than me at 21. I smiled as he continued to explain, “I was married before. I don’t want to be married again. I don’t want to be tied down. But when I meet someone like you, I can’t help but want something more…You blow my mind, girl.” With my breath catching in my throat, I told him that I had come tonight because I hoped he’d be here. When we reached my truck  we began kissing, softly at first then in time the kisses became more eager. He pressed me against the truck as his restless hands traveled over my sleek frame. In no time we were in the truck, I don’t remember climbing in. We clawed at each other in the back seat and I peeled my jeans off and laid across the seat with my legs tangled around his thighs, only my panties, bra and tank on. I heard him mutter something about sexy and unbelievable as he fought to pull his pants down. It all happened too fast, yet time crawled. He pulled my panties off and threw them. As he pressed himself into me I could feel just how hard and large he was. It felt incredible as he moved inside me. Daisy was screaming in ecstacy as our bodies rocked together. My hands flew out to try and grab onto something, pressing against the window to keep from bucking against the door. After several wonderful minutes he pulled my shirt up and came across my stomach. I couldn’t believe how wonderful I felt. We wrestled for several more minutes, kissing and grabbing each other. It seemed to take a lifetime to find all my clothes, my panties in particular. When we crawled out of the truck we were kissing again. He was laughing against my throat, “Girl, I’ve never done that before. You’re crazy, sweetheart! You’re crazy and I love it!” his words rolled off his lips, soaked in that sexy southern drawl. “Please tell me there’ll be a next time…I have to see you again.” I nodded, telling him that if not this next Friday, then the next, but there would definately be a next time. With a grin he locked me in his arms, “And we’ll go someplace more comfortable…I’m going to take my time with you…I’ll fuck you all night. God, you’re crazy!”

We kissed once more and he left me yelling after him, “Be a good boy!” he laughed, looking back as I added, “Just kidding…be as bad as you want.”

The drive home was wonderful. I was in a state of bliss. My dreams that night were flooded with his face, his skin, his body on top of mine.

Steven Meisel for Vogue Italia

‘Vogue Patterns’ by Steven Meisel for Vogue Italia

Vogue Patterns by Steven Meisel - breathtaking pictures in Vogue Italia back in December 2007. These photos are optical illusions in a their own way and I love it!

Models: Lara Stone, Meghan Collison, Kinga Rajzak, Maryna Linchuk, and Hanne-Gaby Odiele

Nothing to Fear, but Fear Itself

“Fear does strange things to a man.” This was attributed by my older brothers to a high school football coach. I don’t know if he actually coined the phrase, but I always liked it.

When I first started riding motorcycles, this phrase would lurk to the forefront of my mind whenever I would get ready to go for a ride. I was apprehensive. This would increase when I stepped into the garage and there sat my bike, a beautiful, but powerful and unforgiving beast. One wrong move and I could be a statistic. Actually, my biggest fear was not of getting splattered on the pavement, one good eye barely managing to focus on the wheels of passing cars, slowly turning as the drivers take in the carnage, it was of something much more innate to the male psyche: The fear of being embarrassed, bruising my pride, being de-cocked. I didn’t worry about blood and guts, besides, if I survived, I’d probably have some cool scars. No, I worried about pulling up to an intersection, where some hottie is taking in my masculine self, then popping the clutch. Men reading this know what I’m talking about. We’d rather suffer horrific bodily damage than be embarrassed, especially in front of an attractive woman. But, the more I rode, the more confident I became and my apprehension faded. It only resurfaces now if I’m sitting at an intersection and see there actually is a hottie, looking over with a smile. It happens. Has to be the bike because I have a face that suggests I live under a bridge, only emerging when someone says my name three times. But this isn’t about the power of a nice bike, so let’s get back to fear.

There’s a fear, a threat to our masculinity, that is so insidious, so heinous, that it prevents many men from living a full and enjoyable life. It strikes three times every day. Many men are afraid that if they take more than a passing interest in cooking, they are somehow lesser men. They’re afraid that if they know how to cook, they’ll be perceived as gay, or metrosexual, or that, gulp, they care about something other than sports, or cars, or chasing tail. Eating crap is manly. Many would rather eat roadkill than try to cook. “Mmm, the tail’s the best part! Crunchy.” For some reason, grilling is the exception. Must have something to do with conquering fire. To all this I say, in a word, bullshit.

C’mon, guys, you know you like to eat. More than that, you know you like to stuff your face with good grub until your clothes no longer fit and the thought of prying your butt off the couch is akin to the thought of building a house. So, unless you happen to be lucky enough to have a wife who can cook, what are you going to do, let your fear force you to eat garbage? It is so easy to cook. Check out my videos on Youtube on Cookinsex’s channel and you’ll see. If it will make you feel better, you can say you learned to cook in prison, while you were in the French Foreign Legion, or the CIA trained you, but you can’t talk about it.

As with anything new, there’s also the fear of failure. I don’t care if someone is an award-winning chef, or your mother, they’ve ruined a meal or two in their time. Big deal. Trial and error is not only the best way to learn something, it is also where some of the best recipes come from. That Chili del Diablo — manly name — will probably become your masterpiece only after a few attempts that were dubbed, Chili That’s Sort of Hot But Not Really, or Pussy Chili. But the only way you’ll get there is by trying.

I saved the best for last: Women love it when a man can cook. Ask them. If she says no, she has a reason for saying so. Read my blog, Take It or Leave It, for more about this. That hottie in the office? Take some leftovers in for lunch. After that great aroma wafts through the office, she’ll stop by. Hottie: “That smells great!” You: “Oh, just something I threw together.” Hottie: “Wow, you can cook? I better get back to my desk because all I can think about is having hot, sweaty sex with you.” OK, maybe she won’t say that, but you have an ‘in.’ Then, after you’ve had a few dates and you want to seal the deal, cook for her. I promise, her clothes will come off faster than a hooker during Fleet Week.

If you don’t want eat well and nail more hot women than James Bond, so be it. Fear does indeed do strange things to a man.

The preceding rant was provided by Dave Carr.

Can't Deny It...Won't Admit It

Just about every woman has something that she loves doing in bed- or loves being done to her in bed, that she doesn’t necessarily like to admit.

Most women can be shy about sex because we don’t want to be seen as a ho.  It’s one thing to be a freakesse, but a ho?  No.  Further, these things that we like, we won’t do with just any guy and require being drunk a level of trust that develops over time.  Notice I didn’t say we have to be in love with you, no, but we do have to trust you.

Once a woman reaches that level of trust, gentlemen, be ready for an awesome sexual experience as your woman, or the woman your having sex with (there’s a difference) turns into a sexual being with zero inhibition.  She’s no longer thinking with her brain, she’s just feeling with her body.  She’ll start doing things, and telling you to do things that you had noooo idea she’d ever given a thought to- but now she’s doing it with/to you.  Yes, there is a gawd.

Here are a few of the things (in no specific order) I can’t deny that I like, hehe, but that doesn’t mean I’ll admit it, either:

The Pleasure of Control Ladies have you ever noticed what happens to your body when you stop acting passive in bed and take a bit of control.  I don’t mean bring whips and chains to bed, I mean, just making the conscious effort to please your man.  This is something that I absolutely love, and it arouses me like nothing else.  It usually starts when he least expects it- like when he’s in the shower.  I’ll slip in, and without talking, wash him up and rinse him down.  When that’s done, I’ll walk him out of the shower, and start kissing his body, and saying things to, ahem, instigate a physical reaction- it never fails.  I focus all of my attention from that point on into making sure he is experiencing absolute pleasure, and yes, that includes a blow job.  Listening, watching, feeling his reaction- completely erotic.  By the time he actually penetrates me I’ve probably already had an orgasm and am just waiting for another.  Whew!

The Pleasure of Submission Here is where we begin to draw a fine line.  I don’t know what goes through your head when you hear the word “submission”, but for me, it’s a very narrow experience.  I’m not going to wear a dog collar and let you walk me around on a leash, and I’m not down for getting whipped or anything like that.  However, ahem…I do like it when my man is…in control.  Men, I’m sure you’ve had the experience where, a woman gets overcome by the sensations rushing through her body, and not knowing what else to do, she pushes you back.  Hate that, don’t you?  Me too.  And I’m just the opposite.  In fact, I’ve told my lover that if I do that, he needs to know it’s a knee jerk reaction and he needs to…keep doing the damn thing.  I absolutely know that “no means no”, but sometimes no really means “fuck me until I’m screaming”.  A woman needs a man she can trust to push her to that point, and yes, she has to submit her body to him in order to get there.  This is especially true for women who think they “can’t” have multiple orgasms.  Trust me honey, you can…ohhh you can.

I like It Rough There’s a difference between liking rough sex and liking mean sex.  I don’t need my lover to be mean to my body, I get no pleasure out of that at all, but I have broader tastes than just warm and cuddly love making.  I like lots of different positions, I like a few good, firm ass slaps, and sometimes I like it when he grabs my wrists.  In the last year I’ve discovered that I like it when he puts his hand on my throat.

Clarification; I’m talking one hand, not two.  I do not, for any reason, like to be choked or have my breathing restricted in any way.  The first time my lover put his hand on my throat, my heart skipped about ten beats, and that bastard (said with love and affection) just started saying the darnedest things to me, starting with “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise”.  He flexed his fingers a few times, but he never actually squeezed by throat.  The experience was absolutely exhilarating.  Like all things, it’s not something I would trust just anyone to do to me.

Call Me a Sinner I like anal sex.  I’ve only ever trusted 2 lovers to do it to me, but yes, I like it.  I like it because, when done right, it feels damn good.  I also enjoy it because my lover enjoys it.  It’s not something that we do all the time, but when we want to wear each other out, anal sex is probably on the menu at some point that night, and I’m just fine with that.

Desperately Seeking Forgiveness

Someone very close to me did a bad thing a long time ago.  She cheated on her husband with my ex-husband… and the results produced a child.  She came clean to her husband, they worked through it, she had the child and her husband raised it as his own.

I found out about it last year for the first time.

It’s funny – because you know, I slept with my best friend’s husband when they were still married and kept it secret for five years – before telling her and eventually losing the dearest friend I ever had in my life.  So I had a unique perspective on the whole situation when I found about this friend and her indiscretion.  Plus, it helps that I’m not with my ex AND I don’t like him all that much.  His actions didn’t surprise me.

If I’m honest, my friend’s actions didn’t surprise me either.  Not because she is anything like my ex-husband – not at all.  I know she didn’t deliberately do this act out of malice, out of spite or anything like that at all.  She is a good person – warm-hearted, loving, a great mother and a good friend.

How can I say that when I now know what she did to her husband, and I guess in some way, to me?  Because I can see that she didn’t do this to me.  This wasn’t about me.  This wasn’t even about her husband.  This was about my friend and her circumstances at the time.  Sometimes people make bad decisions and end up living with the results for the rest of their lives.

I guess I can’t be mad at my friend because I am her in some ways.  I guess I can’t be mad at my friend because I know the pain and guilt she is living with every day.  I guess I can’t be mad at my friend because she did this to herself.

I know that now – from personal experience.

I found out last year but she and I just talked about it last night, at her insistence.  I was quite content to live with the knowledge, be her friend and let it go.  But she wanted to talk about it – no – she needed to talk about it.  She had to let me know she didn’t do it on purpose, didn’t do it to hurt me or even her husband (now an ex-husband, by the way).

I understand.

Sometimes you just need to talk it all out – to admit what you did to someone besides yourself.  I didn’t offer her forgiveness because there was nothing to forgive from my perspective.  But maybe she can finally forgive herself.  It might make it easier to live with.  If she figures out how to do that, I hope she shares her secret.

first time(s) - part 2

As I’ve said before, I had two “first times” escorting…  the first one was the first time I was paid for companionship/sex.  But it wasn’t reallllly what I was setting out to do as an escort…  meaning it was an hour or so of oral sex, and not much else.  I guess it didn’t quite “represent” me as an escort?  I didn’t give the guy what I think of myself as offering in this business… and it wasn’t the experience that cemented my decision to make this my day job.

For you new readers who are thinking, “um wtf are you offering besides sex?” I’ll revisit my business plan.  I really do think of myself as a companion…  someone to talk to, chill with, and yes, sleep with, but it’s more of a complete date. I don’t want to be jumping around to multiple one hour appointments every day (or even every couple days).  By spending evenings with one guy (or sleeping over) I can get more money at one time, and in theory develop a longer lasting relationship with each client.  Also, I’m pretty sure it’s way less soul sucking this way, although I have no way of confirming that.

That fateful night, I put an ad up on craigslist.  As my ads still do, it stated pretty specifically that I was looking for something longer or overnight.  I advertised my college education and interest in meeting new people over some wine…  no mention of sex (although i’m pretty sure it was understood by everyone who responded).  My guy responded with this email:

him: “hey there, not sure if you are still looking or not, but 36y/o, professional (suit & tie type), masc, non-smoker, ddf, top here who lives here for now and moving to europe soon (although will be back regularly).  Looking for good company, friend with benefits, etc.  If more develops, would be cool with that as well.  Have face pics to trade.

Let me know if interested in learning more.  I do have face pics to trade.”

Interesting to me when guys offer to trade pics.  I guess they are pretending that it’s just a regular hookup?  Or maybe they just want to make extra sure that I know what I’m getting into and won’t reject their money because they are too ugly or something.

His pics were pretty average.  Couple emails later:

him: “Was thinking of relaxed evening after run (probably not starting till around 10:30) of wine, movies, kissing, cuddling and as mentioned before sexually am top.  Let me know if you are still looking for tonight.  I had previous plans, but to be honest, not sure that I want to go through with them (was just heading out to drink with a friend).”

we settled on $800 to spend the night.

him: “ok, about to leave for run (little bit late).  Let’s plan on meeting at my place at 10:45 (will try to be showered, etc. by time you get here but may be cutting it close as plan on doing long run).  I have no food here (travel a lot) so bring any pretzels or chips, etc. you may want to munch on while having wine.”

I showered, put on my sunday best, double checked my little escort bag that I always carry (but was then carrying for the first time) and set out, very nervous.

When I reached his apartment and he answered the door in his pjs, I quickly realized he had gained some weight since the pictures he had sent me were taken.  I walked into his very cute one bedroom, which overlooked the hudson river.  Of course, when I called my friend to tell him that I had reached the apartment safely and hadn’t been clubbed and taken advantage of, my phone failed me (damn you at&t).  There was an awkward 5 minute silence between me and this guy while I tried to reach my friend, worried my night of companionship would turn into a group thing with New York’s finest.  Finally I gave up and texted him (which worked, thank god), but the night already felt like it was off to an awkward start. He let me choose between white and red (I chose red) and poured us some wine.

Rent Boy Tip: Be careful of roofies and other drugs! Always remember: “Watch your glass, save your ass.  Don’t see him pour, get raped on the floor.”

I leaned over his counter while we made small talk.  He started telling me about his work, which involved buying and selling companies I believe?  I don’t quite remember now, but besides the fact that it was totally boring, it was so filled with jargon that I could barely understand what he was talking about.  Of course I smiled and nodded and urged him to tell me more, which he happily did as we headed over to his couch where “Shrek” was playing silently on his flat screen.  He continued on, and I have to say I kept up pretty well considering I knew nothing about his business.  Now, there are plenty of times when I would be completely honest about what I know and don’t know.  Clearly I’m not expected to know everything about a random business.  However, when someone is talking to me as if he EXPECTS me to know things, there is a little more pressure.  I don’t want to seem stupid, especially when I’m being paid to be good company.

Rent Boy Tip:  Act like you understand everything, and then pick out the couple things you DO understand and expound.  It will seeeeeem like you are keeping up…  at least it did that night!  Always remember: “Smile and nod, be spared the rod.  Stare and blink, get raped by the sink.”

The conversation was fine.  As the topics changed, it became more interesting… hearing about another person’s life always has some value.  He was quite the world traveler, and was soon moving to europe (not the first time he had lived there.  I forget what country…  switzerland or something?).  He had some beautiful paintings.  Every time he visited or lived in a country, he bought a painting as a souvenir.  Isn’t that a cool way to remember a trip?  Instead of crappy little knick knacks.

After maybe 45 minutes of talk, we started getting a little more intimate, and I was soon in the middle of my (second) first sexual experience with a client.  We made out some, I felt him up, and he boasted about his big dick.  It was fairly big, although not gigantic…  certainly above average.  After going down on him while he sat on the couch, we moved into the bedroom where we moved on to more “intrusive” activities…  soon I was being fucked.  Now I consider myself versatile (does anyone reading not know what that means?  it means i’m a very generous person)  although I do end up bottoming more than topping.  He was fairly large, though, so we had to take it slow at first.  I have to say, I took it like a champ.  He fucked me until he came (I’m almost positive that I didn’t cum, although maybe I’m not remembering…  he really didn’t focus at all on getting me off) and then we headed to the bathroom to clean up.

Throughout all my experiences, I’ve been amazed at how turned on I can get by guys that I’m not attracted to.  It wasn’t mindblowing, but really, getting fucked is hot.  Sex is hot.  And unless i’m DISGUSTED by a person or by something they expect me to do, so far i’ve been able to be sufficiently turned on and get off.

We showered together and chatted (he said “I should be paying him” for his big dick… ha) and then moved back out to the couch.  He showed me pictures of his trips in europe (man i got so bored at this point, not gonna lie) and eventually 1 or 2 am rolled around, and he asked me if I still wanted to stay the night.  This seemed like a trick question to me, and it was almost a little awkward.  I didn’t want to stay the night IF he was going to pay me all that money and I could just leave…  really I only wanted to stay if HE wanted me to stay.  But I think he wanted me to want to stay of my own volition…  so instead of risking anything I said yes, of course, and we went to sleep.

I remember waking up early and lying there…  again bored.  Waking before the guy (which i always do) can be complete agony…  I can’t get up before them, I don’t want to be rude and wake them up, but I can’t stand just lying there with NOTHING to do.

Eventually he woke and we cuddled and chatted…   and soon he was hard again and fucked me for a second time.  Again, it was a liiiiiittle rough because of his size, and he didn’t get me off (not expected, of course), but it was fine.  We dressed, and wandered out to his little balcony, where he pointed out various landmarks in the buildings around us.  There were a couple TV studios.  I made my one blunder while we chilled out there when I started talking about my distaste for Elisabeth Hasselbeck, the one super conservative (and super stupid voice) on The View.  The minute I uttered the words “annoying” and “republican” in the same sentence, he said “careful…  my father is [some republican chairman blah blah blah].”  I had to quickly backtrack and say that I meant she was annoying because of her stupidity, not because of being republican…  which is mostly true, really.  He did a little obama bashing and then the subject changed.  I have always kept that lesson with me, though;  I’m dealing with people who run in very different circles than me.  Clearly some are bound to have different political views!

I had realized by then that he was kind of egotistical…  just a little wisp of “toolbag” in his aura.  Clearly thought very highly of himself and his success.  He mentioned at one point that he didn’t feel like he needed to hire guys.  It was just easier than trying to meet one, not to mention the many expectations and complications.  He had the money, so why not just hire a cool guy for a night?  I liked the thought, but I was left thinking “please… you are paying because this includes sex with someone you wouldn’t be able to fuck otherwise.” Seriously, I’m not judging it, but that IS kind of the point…  he was chubby and unattractive.  I’m sure he did want friendship and conversation for the night, which he could have found for free…  but i don’t think he could have found the sex with someone my age.  Maybe that was just a little bonus in terms of what he was looking for?  But again, he struck me as full of himself…  and in this respect, fooling himself.

Soon I was tying my shoes, and as I finished he handed me my wad (that’s right): $800 in twenty dollar bills.  I shoved them into my escort man purse, gave him a goodbye peck and headed out.

I’m sure some escorts feel dirty after all the deeds are done.  Maybe they feel like their payment is tainted by their dirty sinful acts… just a big, paper wad of sin.  I, however, got such a rush, especially that first time.  I mean, I was paid $800 for literally maybe 30 or 40 minutes of sex.  Maybe it was even just 20 or 30.  The rest of the time was chatting, wine, and relaxation.  At worst, a little boredom.  ‘Meeting new people,’ just like my ad said.  I was (and still am) thrilled to be getting paid so much money (in tax free cash) to do something so EASY.  That second first time was what really sealed the deal…  until I had a job that i loved, or a relationship that forbade me from it, or i was hired by a rapist who cut off my dick, i was (and am) going to be an escort.

-B

Baklänges

Det känns som processen går baklänges nu, än vad den gjorde när man först anlände i hela den här relations- och attraktionsvärlden. Flickvänner och pojkvänner, hångel och sex och kärlek och så vidare. Tvärt om, baklänges, upside down.

För såhära. För länge sedan, i min ungdom, eller ja, den ännu tidigare ungdomen, nästan barndomen, gick det till såhär. I kronologisk ordning: Flicka träffar pojke. De blir kompisar. De blir kära. De blir ihop. De säger Jag älskar dig. De hånglar. De har sex. De gör slut.

Och nu, helt omvänt: Flicka träffar pojke. De ligger med varandra. De byter nummer. De går på en dejt, en till och en till. De blir ihop. De lär känna varandra. De blir kära. De säger Jag älskar dig. De gör slut. De blir “kompisar”.

Så ser det iallafall ut i min värld, oftast. Man börjar vid sexet. Det är konstigt att sex liksom var slutstationen i kärlekskedjan förut, nu är det där man kliver på. Kanske är det synd att det är så, kanske är det bra att man får bedöma hur man funkar ihop rent fysiskt innan man tar relationen vidare. Personligen tycker jag att det känns ganska viktigt huruvida man fungerar ihop på ett sexuellt plan. Jag kan inte tänka mig ett förhållande där man inte har bra sex eller där man uppfattar den andre som dålig på att kyssas. Å andra sidan är jag ganska fixerad vid sånt där, och det är ju en vacker spänning där innan man har sex första gången, med någon man är kär i. Det är inte riktigt samma sak om man tumlade runt i kåtfylla redan första gången man sågs. Jag vet inte .. Vad tycker ni? Klassisk romantik vs. sexfixerad rationalism?

Hurt.

Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face
You told me how proud you were, but I walked away
If only I knew what I know today, ooh, ooh

I would hold you in my arms, I would take the pain away
Thank you for all you’ve done, forgive all your mistakes
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear your voice again
Sometimes I wanna call you but I know you won’t be there

Oh, I’m sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn’t do
And I’ve hurt myself by hurting you

Some days I feel broke inside but I won’t admit
Sometimes I just wanna hide ’cause it’s you I miss
And it’s so hard to say goodbye when it comes to this, ooh

Would you tell me I was wrong? Would you help me understand?
Are you looking down upon me? Are you proud of who I am?
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to have just one more chance
To look into your eyes and see you looking back

Oh, I’m sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn’t do
And I’ve hurt myself, oh

If I had just one more day
I would tell you how much that I’ve missed you
Since you’ve been away

Oh, it’s dangerous
It’s so out of line
To try and turn back time

I’m sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn’t do
And I’ve hurt myself
By hurting you

AIDS Vaccine?!

Here’s a story coming out of Fox News:

BANGKOK —  For the first time, an experimental vaccine has prevented infection with the AIDS virus, a watershed event in the deadly epidemic and a surprising result. Recent failures led many scientists to think such a vaccine might never be possible.

The vaccine cut the risk of becoming infected with HIV by more than 31 percent in the world’s largest AIDS vaccine trial of more than 16,000 volunteers in Thailand, researchers announced Thursday in Bangkok.

Even though the benefit is modest, “it’s the first evidence that we could have a safe and effective preventive vaccine,” Col. Jerome Kim said in a telephone interview. He helped lead the study for the U.S. Army, which sponsored it with the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.

The institute’s director, Dr. Anthony Fauci, warned that this is “not the end of the road,” but said he was surprised and very pleased by the outcome.

“It gives me cautious optimism about the possibility of improving this result” and developing a more effective AIDS vaccine, Fauci said in a telephone interview. “This is something that we can do.”

Even a marginally helpful vaccine could have a big impact. Every day, 7,500 people worldwide are newly infected with HIV; 2 million died of AIDS in 2007, the U.N. agency UNAIDS estimates.

Full story here.

The deceptive DNA of Kyle Sandilands

The moment: 7.9.09: Sydney

Kyle Sandilands suspended again: this time for ‘concentration camp’ slur

Things aren’t pretty in Sin City for Kyle Sandilands

I say few things – most are manly – but on this, the Australian media has a collective case of trolley rage, and Sandilands  has been beaten down like he stole something.

Let me say first, Kyle Sandilands is not my homeboy.

In fact I wouldn’t let him anywhere near my home, and would prefer that he did not enter my suburb. Why would he need to – his pathetic and unfunny ego has it’s own postcode.

He is a monument to quality broadcasting -  just like cement can pose as architecture if you squint your eyes and turn towards the sun.

He should go into politics, because he is most qualified in Australia to be head up the Department of Ignorance.

In summary, he has all the charm and appeal of a pickled toad.

But in a good Christian way – I am going to be the only person in Australia who comes to his defense on this  (I now know how legal aid lawyers who have to defend paedophiles feel)

In a fun game of spot the hypocrite, let’s break down this news story……………………..

“Sandilands was suspended by 2Day FM for his comments that Magda Szubanski would lose more weight in a concentration camp”

Righteous: She would……..she would definitely lose weight in a concentration camp. I don’t think anyone could argue with that. It’s stating the bleeding obvious. That means it’s pretty close to being a fact – and when did stating a fact become illegal or unethical?

“Szubanski’s family is of Polish origin, a country where many of the worst Nazi concentration camps, including Auschwitz, were located”

Righteous: oooohhhhh……..let’s stretch it out……….way out……..SHE’S not from Poland – HER FAMILY IS FROM POLAND – where there were concentration camps. So she’s offended for her family, because they are from Poland. Note that Sandilands did not say – put her in the gas chamber in the concentration camp.

“Jackie O suggested Szubanski might not be able to lose any more weight due to her build”. “That’s what all fat people say,” Sandilands replied.

Righteous: Sandilands is absolutely right. If Szubanski didn’t eat for 12 months, besides being dead, she’d be a hell of a lot skinnier than she is now. It is a scientific fact. So she could be skinnier, everyone could IF THEY CHOOSE TO BE.

“Not being able to lose weight due to her build” is code from the Fat Lobby for “she doesn’t have the inclination or the discipline to stop stuffing her face – but even so, you can’t call her fat”.

Well, I can.

Magda. You are fat.

If we stuck you in the desert for three months, you’d be skinnier.

If we stuck you in a TV show without catering for three months, you’d be skinnier.

If we revoked your sweet tooth for three months, you’d be skinnier.

So the problem seems to be with the words ‘concentration camp’.

“Szubanski brushed off Sandilands’ on-air comments, but said they were offensive to those who had suffered in concentration camps”.

Righteous: Really!! Why?. Because they lost weight while they were in the concentration camp, and therefore are have acid flashbacks when the words ‘concentration camp’ are mentioned?. Do they grieve the fat deposits they lost?. Or was it a horrific experience?. If they constantly get up each morning and wig out because they lost 70 pounds in 1945 – I’d like to see the evidence. In that case, we should ban the use of the words concentration camp. I don’t see anyone doing that. I mean, it’s obviously too soon to mention the war – it was only 70 years ago.

Magda Szubanski, not only are you one of the most painful comics Australia has had to suffer through – you are a hypocrite, pure and simple – because you use your fat for laughs, and you play to the fat stereotype, and you do it to further your career.

But you can’t have it both ways oommpa loommmpa.

And regarding taking up the cause of concentration camp survivors – how convenient.

Did you ever do anything for them before this?.

I would be betting a decent sum that the answer was no.

This issue has been manipulated by two groups – the Fat Lobby & the the Jewish Lobby.

Both these lobby’s are insidious.

The Fat Lobby says you can’t call fat people fat, and the Jewish Lobby says that only they can refer to the Holocaust, and certainly no-one can make jokes about it (I’m sorry, I must have been to lunch when that law was passed)

It’s like black people using the word ‘nigger’ in every sentence, but when a white person uses it, all hell breaks loose.

It is hyprocrisy, and it is reverse racism, and it is not acceptable. It doesn’t matter who does it.

So Magda, why don’t you just stop eating three peoples share of their supermarket allocation – and this wouldn’t be a problem.

This incident has exposed you for what you are.

An opportunistic, talentless, humourless hyprocite getting up on your tippy toes to tap the glass ceiling of publicity for your own benefit.

You have moved beyond the literal to the absurd.

Yours, while wondering if a long-winded answer is better than a punch in the face.

Righteous

p.s. This blog starts and ends 10 minutes earlier, so you can fall asleep now, rather than later.

Exhausted Fuck-UP

There are people who love constantly going out, being social, and don’t need a lot of time to themselves.

I am NOT one of those people.

I love my friends, and I am really, truly grateful that my social life has picked up again.  That doesn’t change the fact that I am totally dead on my feet.

I have something to do every day this week.  And in many ways, that’s great.  I love my friends, I love seeing them, talking to them, drinking with them…but I’m exhausted.  My weekend was already very busy on top of serious back pain that caused me to down like eight ibuprofen a day. I’m back to normal now (though feeling the effects of five days of pain-inspired lethargy), but I’m totally dead on my feet.  I need sleep something badly.

Monday, L was still in town, and I owed an old friend a call.  Tuesday, I met my friend B, and her friend for…happy hour, followed by dinner, followed by dessert.  A delicious, but exhausting adventure, and so much fun.

Today, I’m supposed to see Indie IT Boy.

Tomorrow, I’m supposed to hang out with Starbuck’s Friend, but I was originally supposed to go to happy hour with my GovBud (ex-roommate who works for the government).  Nick and I have plans to hang out and smoke sheesha.  I have to find a way to make it clear that this is not a date.

Friday, I’m doing happy hour with my GovBud.

It’s a busy fucking week, and now it looks like it won’t be vice versa (more on that further down).

So, on Monday morning when my best friend, who flew out for my birthday and was planning on flying out on Monday, said “there’s no way I’m going to get on the flight from DC to SLC.  I mean, if you want I can try to connect through New York….” my initial reaction was not good.

It was something along the lines of “it’s not that I don’t want to see you, but I’m exhausted and miss privacy.”

Excuse me while I face-palm.

I felt like such a bitch.  I also didn’t have the full story (a whole bunch of flights had been cancelled out of Atlanta due to flooding, so the likelihood that she would have made it out of, oh, anywhere, was slim to none).  But still.  Not the best reaction.  She interpreted it as me being sick of her, which of course was not true, as I was just feeling like an anti-social bitch.   I love her to pieces, and if it weren’t for the fact that I have a million things going on this week, I never would have said anything.  As it was, I shouldn’t have.  She flew out to see me, even though she couldn’t really afford it (flying is free for her, but life in DC is expensive).  She says she’s over it, but I know her better than to believe it.  I’ll probably feel guilty about this one for a while.

This, combined with the fact that someone is trying to come back into my life in ways that make both of us tenuous has made me feel like one giant ball of stress.  Not having any time to be by myself and think is making it worse.

To top it off, Indie IT Boy may not be coming to see me tonight.  On le facebook, it says he is sick and still has to give a presentation.  I hope I get to see him anyway.  I think it’s turning into something, and I like that.  I like him.  I also need some sexual tension released. Yesterday.  Of course, if he’s very sick, I’d be happy to bring him some soup or something.  I’m caring! I swears!  Just an idiot sometimes.

And as much as I hate to admit it…I’d also be relieved to have a day to myself, just to breathe.  Breathing is good.  I hear you need to do it to live.

So hopefully I won’t collasolly fuck up any more this week.  Wish me luck.

Mr. Abandoned Club

It was the Summer of 2004, and I was on vacation in Europe. I had met a man who resembled Dr. Mark Greene from ER, and since I was going through my super nerd attraction phase, I was gleefully happy when he has asked me out. We would be vacationing in the same city over the next two weeks. At the time, he had lived in Philadelphia, and I had lived somewhere in Europe. This summer fling would be quick, painless, and hopefully sustain enough memories to keep him masturbating to the thought of me for at least 3 months upon his return back to America.

On our second date, I had suggested we check out a secluded beach near our hotels. A cat and mouse game would begin once we entered the water to swim. Kiss there… lick here… nibble there… pull here… Pushing up against me, I felt his cock against my leg— hard. As I slowly brought  my hands down to his swim shorts, and felt up against the fabric, my eyes widened. Mr. Abandoned Club was everything a summer fling should be: long and thick. He took his fingers and slid my bikini bottom to the side. I believe he had characterized my own wetness as warm, and a very evident differentiation with the salty crisp ocean water.

My arms reached around his neck and as my face pushed up against his lips, my hips pushed up against him as well, and I began to wrap my legs around his body. He pushed his finger in me so swiftly, my back arched, and I let out a gasp. My clitoris was throbbing, and feeling his finger begin to fuck me, I began to grind myself against his hard cock, where his hand would give away to my movements. He put his hands around my hips and drove the movement against him harder. It was fantastic that we were not fucking each other yet– the intensity of the teasing felt amazing.

*Door slams*

This secluded beach was not secluded anymore. We parted our bodies, and tried to cover up our actions, and began to swim away from each other. The last 5 minutes would be forgotten very quickly. After he was “able” to, we layed down against our towels, and tried to have civilized conversation. He was talking about Philadelphia. I was hungry for more of what had happened in the water just moments ago. I was not listening. I wanted to be fucked… now.

The beach was rested next to  path that led to a severely increasing incline, which turned into a cliff. In my red bikini, and his trunk shorts, we walked up this incline to admire the view of the ocean. As we turned to go down the incline, a path full of shrub laid out towards the right which led to a building. This building was an abandoned club. The bar laid out around the parameter of the club, and the DJ Booth up high, covered in dust. The club used to be an open air, with walls laid out but no ceiling. Grass grew between cracks on the floor, and the paint job, dark purple and red, had lost its matte against the pounding of the wind and its lack of uptake. I remember thinking that the building was impressive. You could imagine the DJ there, the sexy bartenders around the bar, people dressed in slutty vacation gear dancing to the latest EuroTrash sounds.

I felt him come up behind me, and he began to massage my neck… slowly kissing my ear, and whispering, “I want to fuck you so badly.” He had enunciated “fuck” very hard against my ear, almost with a devilish undertone in his voice, which sent a shiver down my spine. I turned around and faced him. We began to kiss each other with urgency. He pushed me against the wall, and I could smell an assortment of aromas: the salty ocean, his sweat, the dust mixing with my skin. His left hand began to pull my hair this way and that way. His right hand began to play with my clit this way and that way. My hands slipped under his shorts and began to rub the head of his cock, almost teasingly lightly. With meticulated variation, I slowly began to stroke its entirety (which I can only mentally measure at 8-9 inches).

I took my right hand, and brought it up to my face. As I looked at him, I spit right into it… brought my hand right down, and began to stroke his cock even harder. The more he groaned into my ear, the more I’d try to maintain the rhythm which had enabled me to make him weak in the knees.

“I thought you said you wanted to fuck me so badly?”, I whispered very coyly into his ear.

He pulled me closer and led me to the dusty bar top. There was no time for more foreplay. In fact, there was no time to take off my bikini bottom. He pushed his cock up against my wet pussy, as my legs wrapped around his body. As I bent my knees against his hips, I pulled him in, and gasped as I began to feel exactly how thick he really was.

He slowly began to fuck me, looking at me intently. As I laid on my back, I began to rub my clit for him. His eyes trailed down my stomach to my pussy… he stared, and his expression would change to urgency. Every time he’d slam into me, my mind would slowly begin to shut out everything around me. I concentrated on the smells around us, the sounds of his groaning and my moaning echoing within the abandoned building, and the far away sound of waves crashing nearby.

I felt full. His cock would pump out of me, glistening in my wetness, and pump right back in, creating a very full feeling. As I gasped for air between my moans of pleasure, I could feel how the salty water had tightened around my face. The harder he fucked me, the tighter my face felt as my expressions began to mimic the intensity.

As I began to cum, my head slammed against the wooden bar, my nails ripped across his back, and my back arched as my hips pushed up into him. I could feel myself pulsating on his cock. His head lowered, and he hissed, “Cum for me.” I screamed, “I’m cumming… I’m cumming…” in between my gasps and moans and subsequent coy giggles.

Sight, sound, smell. touch… of the 5 senses all that was missing was taste.

I pushed him off me, and got on all fours. I dipped down, and put his cock in my mouth. I wanted him to cum for me now. I don’t know if it was the view of an arched back, with my ass hanging in the air, or the fact that I had just came all over him, and I was technically tasting myself on him, but it was only a matter of 30 seconds before he too began to cum. As he came, I deep throated him, taking him in as much as I could, allowing his cum to shoot right to the back of my throat. I continued to slowly stroke the base of his cock, until he was completely done. I swallowed. Looked up coyly. He looked down, panting hard.

We continued with our date, and continued to see each other almost every day until our vacations had ended. When we parted, it was almost obvious we would probably never see each other again. We had exchanged emails (this was all before Facebook), but I never thought much of contacting him. What would I say? We lived in different continents at the time.

In 2009, we would run into each other at the building we apparently had both been working in over the last few months. He had moved to New York City in 2007 as I had in 2008. As we chatted, awkwardly, he acted very indifferent to me. I was very surprised to be seeing him, and the coincidence of the entire matter. Everytime I blinked, I saw images of that afternoon in the abandoned club. I’m almost certain, that beyond his indifferent attitude towards me in public, he too thought the same.

We didn’t exchange numbers, but he is my Facebook friend now.

Time to Teach some Good Sex

John D’Emilio and Estelle Freeman’s chapter, “Family Life and the Regulation of Deviance” from the book Intimate Matters presents a detailed history of sexuality in colonial America. All members of society were socialized at a young age to understand that sex was to occur within the confine of marriage and for the purposes of reproduction only. After reading this chapter I began to contemplate the extent to which sex education for children and adolescents has changed since colonial times.

Focusing specifically on sex education programming taught in schools, “abstinence only” education remains surprisingly prevalent in America’s public schools. The state of Utah, for example, currently teaches “abstinence until marriage” without any mention of STD or pregnancy prevention. This type of sexual education appears to have deviated very little from colonial America’s understanding of sex within a narrow moral construct. However, it is not sitting well with everyone. Representative Lynn Hemingway of Utah has recently sponsored a bill to amend the state’s current laws on sex education curriculums. This bill would allow Utah schools to expand what is currently allowed to be taught as a part of sex education programming (again, abstinence until marriage).

Since my freshman year at Tulane, every Women’s Studies and Gender and Sexuality Studies class I’ve taken has inundated me with statistics about how ineffective abstinence-only programs are in comparison to curriculums that teach “safer sex”. Given these statistics, I would argue that framing sex in moral terms is limiting and problematic. Based on what I’ve read, Representative Hemingway appears to feel the same way. Hemingway was quoted during a radio interview on June 10, 2009 as saying, “What I really want to try to do is steer this [sex education] away from being a moral issue. This isn’t a moral issue. This is a health issue”. (http://choiceineducation.org/index.php?view=article&id=547%3Aplanned-parenthood-proposes-sex-ed-curriculum-changes&option=com_content&Itemid=178)

Though I agree that sex should not be framed as an issue of morality, I’m not so sure that Hemingway’s suggestion to frame sex as a health issue is a completely adequate solution either. After recently reading Michel Foucault’s History of Sexualitythe medicalization of sex and sexuality is particularly troubling. In “Part III Scientia Sexualis” Foucault discusses how the institution of medicine and science, “…set itself up as the supreme authority…” on sex and sexuality. (54) Foucault explains in detail why viewing sex and sexuality within a medical paradigm is highly limiting and oppressive. Medicalizing sex allows for the creation of sexual identity categories–categories which in turn situated on a salient hierarchy of sexual stratification.

I understand that Hemingway doesn’t intend on framing sex as a health issue so that Utah public schools can perpetuate the idea of narrow and stratified sexual identity categories in sixth grade classrooms. I interpret sex as “a health issue” to refer to the necessary education about sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy, specifically curriculums that discuss contraception and STD treatment. Though there is a dire need to teach these subjects as a part of sex education programs do these topics exhaust what is necessary when attempting give America’s youth a well-rounding sexual-schooling? Looking back to Foucault, the role of pleasure and desire are very important to his discussions of sexuality and power. Where is the unit on pleasure and erotic desire in America’s sex education curriculum?  America seems to have evolved little from its colonial use of scare tactics to educate children about sex. Viewing sex as a moral issue scares children into believing that if you have sex outsides the confines of marriage you are a BAD person. Teaching sex within the framework of health educated young people that sex is dangerous and can lead to evil diseases and pregnancies that will socially stigmatize and ruin one’s life forever. Will America ever get to the point where sex-positive education will be taught? Will young people ever be taught how to respect and enjoy their bodies and the bodies of others? Hemingway’s proposed bill attempts to alter sex education for the better, but he isn’t pushing for enough reform. I say don’t just teach safer-sex, teach GOOD sex.

Below is the link to an editorial article in which the author takes a position against Hemingway’s sex education reform bill.

http://www.thespectrum.com/article/20090915/OPINION/90915003/1014/OPINION

AeA Sex Kills Hundreds a Year

Remember the cause of David Carradine’s death?
The FBI now estimates about 1,000 deaths a year involving Autoerotic asphyxation:

‘Autoerotic asphyxiation may seem like a fringe pursuit, but it kills hundreds of American men every year, Ian Daly writes in Details. Dubbed AeA, it involves partially choking oneself during orgasm to cut off oxygen and unleash a flood of pleasure-inducing chemicals in the brain. Once considered the fatal fetish of celebrities like David Carradine and INXS frontman Michael Hutchence, AeA appears to have gone mainstream.

‘With the FBI conservatively estimating up to 1,000 AeA deaths a year, and a fetish website for so-called “gaspers” drawing millions of visitors, one sex educator in Phoenix is warning students about the dangers of AeA—and mentioning alternatives, like tantric breathing and gas masks. Park Dietz, the author of a book on AeA deaths, warns that the practice can be addictive. One gasper even considered chemical castration: “He was afraid he was going to end up in the morgue,” Dietz says.’ —Drew Nelles Source: Details

Love Addiction

It is thought that this is the lighter of the addictions but how many crimes are those of passion. When people enter recovery from substance abuse, relationships are often the next tier. The other would be eating disorders.

A love addict defined as; the addiction in which the person becomes addicted to the feeling of love.

It seems that love addiction has been broken up into several categories and this allows one to see where they fit for the best attempt at recovery.

Additional Types of Love Addict

Obsessed, co-dependent, narcissistic, relationship, ambivalent, torch bearers, seductive with holders and romance addicts.

Some Symptoms or Characteristics of Love Addiction;

Difficulty protecting self, setting up boundaries

Sense of worthlessness without a relationship or partner

Feelings that a relationship makes one whole, or more of a man or woman

Strong need to be in control of all situations and those people around you

History of emotional, physical, or sexual trauma

In ability to feel satisfied sexually

Confuse sex with love

Often are living a double life

Relationship hop- goes from one to the next without an emotional break

Living in a les than nurturing home setting when a child nurturing

Sense of isolation from parents and family

Tendency to package relationships from other areas of life

Usually the outsides emotions don’t match the inside emotions

Mistake intensity for intimacy (drama driven relationships)

Depression or other Dual Diagnosis

The symptoms are important markers but the other issues are the feelings that go with the behaviors. Often the addict has feelings that are occurring that mask any ability to connect with their true emotions. What we have yet to discuss is the chemicals that are involved and why it is so with these behaviors and why it becomes addictive.  Guess that’s for next time.

Getting Attached

I think I’m getting a bit too close to this one girl I’m seeing. By ‘getting too close’, I mean, she’s getting too close. I don’t think she expects much but uses a lot of endearing terms and wants to hang out a lot which is obviously not what I need in my life right now. Last night I actually rejected sex with her -it’s either that I’m a bit stressed these days or I was still turned off after the previous night when I noticed traces of blood on the condom. It didn’t really disgust me as I thought something like that would, but it was just a turn off. It’s the kind of thing that you can deal with from a wife maybe, but not so much a girl you fuck once in a while.

I’m tired, stressed, and am suffering from low libido. I need something (someone) new and exciting.

Lesbian Guide on Planning a Date

A a follow up of Lesbian Boi’s Guide on landing a Girl in the Club …

Here is the start on how to Plan a Date.  Now that you have the girls number, I hope now that you have planned to call her.  No not text, that is informal and a pussy non engaging way out of putting yourself out there.  It is like hiding behind a book while talking to someone in person.  Put yourself out there, be bold and assertive.  It will show your potential date you are not afraid to take charge in the relationship.

The Phone Call : Before you call, go over what you are going to say.  To not trip over your words it is best to write a rough draft on things you want to say.  Just like for a phone interview for a job, do not recite rather use them as guidelines to remind you of your words.  A few things can now happen.  She can pick up.  Oh a flutter goes through you, you are nervous and don’t know what to say.  Now goto your cheat sheet.  Start off with “Hi this is whomever, remember me from where and what last night?”  Blah blah, I had a good time, was wondering if you’d like to go for … whatever such and such night.  Just go in for the kill, ask her on outing.  Now most likely she will say yes.  Naturally this should turn into some conversation.  Do not be alarmed if it doesn’t.  Everyone can be busy.  But its probably best to ask her some open ended questions to get that going.  Since you are planning a date, ask her what type of food she likes, or where/what she likes to do for fun.  This will give you ideas on where to bring her and what to do.  Most lesbians are dying for a date and if they even gave you their real number, chances are she wants you.  Even if you don’t know if you like them, always go in positive.  If you ask a girl on a date, act like you like her and treat her well.  Don’t over compensate or lie, just be yourself.  Now you can also get picked up by voicemail.  Just leave a quick message.  Key is quick.  State who you are , your intentions of taking her out and clearly state your number.  If she takes way too long to get back to you…8+ hours… she either had some extrenuating circumstances ( which she better have an explanation for/apology) or she was contemplating whether or not to call you, over thinking it etc etc.  That is probably a bad sign already, like either she’s hiding something, if she has no time to call back, what makes you think she has time to be a good girlfriend.  In this day and age, everyone is on their phone 24/7 especially if you gave your number out at the club.  There is no excuse to not calling back within one business day.  There are also better times to call.  If you don’t want to be engaged in conversation… probably should call during work hours.  Most people will not pick up.  Do not call in the morning, they maybe sleeping.  That will definitely annoy me to death.  Afternoons and Evenings before 9pm are the best.  Those times give them ample time to call back and have a chat in their leisure.

Picking a Location : Before you called the girl, you should have already had an idea of where you wanna go.  Because you need to tell her where and when yall would like to meet up.  However you can always call without a place, and say you will followup call with somewhere to meet and go.  This way you can have an excuse to call and chat and confirm the date closer to the time.  This will make the date a less awkward experience when yall do meet up.  Anyways, picking a spot comes with a few categories.

First Date Location : Since we already established that money should not be an issue… if you are broke, you shouldn’t be dating.  You should be finding more cheddar at this point.  So I’ll just assume you have decent amount of cheese.  Dinner, Drinks, Event?  What should we start with?  With someone I’m mildly not so interested in I usually go for drinks or hang out.  Dinner is usually reserved for those who I believe I need to impress with my foodie skills.  Always do something interactive in which conversation and getting to know each other can be achieved.  Drinks are great for this.  You both get loose and get to know each other… with the classics, what do you do, where do you live, who did you last fuck?  Dinner should be done at a place with great atmosphere and ok food.  We don’t wanna get stuffed, and we aren’t gonna eat that much since we should be staring at each other and talking.  Not super romantic, but trendy and cool enough.  Trend away from super ethnic and stinky weird foods like Indian or Ethiopian.  I don’t want to use my fingers get dirty or smell like curry.  You can also drink during dinner, however this will get pricey, a bottle of wine , 2 entrees, 1 appetizer, 1 dessert later, and we talking about a serious investment.  So I only reserve fancy dining for fine bitches.  Although casual dining is fine, we talking about BBQ’s , diners, and Thai spots run by Chinese folks. Events?  I’m not a fan of movies.  You can barely see the person, it’s darker lighting than the club.  You don’t really talk to each other, and if your date is talking to you during the movie, I’d fucking drop them right now.  I hate whispering in the movies, if I’m trying to listen to you, what makes you think I can hear the damn movie I paid 12 $ times 2 for??? Plus 20 $ worth of popcorn and soda.  I would do something you usually enjoy.  If you are the type with no life, than go to drink and dinner.  But I love Dave and Busters, Shooting Pool, Museums etc.  Although Museum should be a later date type thing.  Comedy show?  Jazz Club all valid ideas.

Second Date : Anything you didn’t do the first is game.  More intimate setting is recommended.  Since I hope you didn’t fuck the first date.  I live my life looking for real relationships not fucks.  I barely know a bitch the first date.  I may kiss, but no tongue action.  Also setting up the second date on the first date is a good way to not play stupid phone tag games.  You should already be feeling out whether or not a second date is probable.  If she is giddy and says yes I’d love to see you again, set a rough time and say you will call her.  Control is everything.  Don’t put the ball in her court.  You will make her squirm.  It’s puss to put the control in the femme.  She will be turned off that you don’t take the reigns and pull her hair.  What?  Yes ! The places you pick to impress bitches is important too.  You should have already a very cultural life, a repertoire of things you enjoy doing, places you know of fucking awesome to bring girls to.  This will show you are a fun, cultural and have a rich life.  Here are some more ideas, Karaoke, Romantic Strolls, Boat Cruises etc etc….

Third Date : Your so in by now.  Now it’s time to choose, you wan’t to be in with this bitch or not?  Is she worth your time?  Is she fuckable.  You need to Seal the Deal by the third date.  We are gay… we are not religious.  Seriously who still saves themselves.  Sex is an important part of a relationship.  You should’ve already talked about how you both are sexually.  Like what excites her.  Go ahead and invite her over for the third date.  This is why you need a nice pad.  Chic but with flavor.  This is the way a Femme makes a final decision of whether you are material enough.  She will note the location/neighborhood.  Note how big your tv is and how clean your bathroom is.  If you have psycho medication hide that shit.  Prepare a fucking CD.  After dinner or whatever you guys meet up for…. Ask her if she wants to come watch a movie, come up and chill, or whatever.  Just get her through the door and start racking up the Bases.  I’d say if you haven’t done it by the 4th date…. its a wrap… drop her number.  She is either fucking someone else, double timing, a virgin, bad at it, or isn’t even a lesbian at all.  I know as a lesbian it’s tough to drop emotional connections but lets face it… she’s wasting your money.

Date Payments : A lot of lesbians go dutch.  I don’t believe in it.  If you are a Boi, you wannabe a man.  So pay for everything.  A true Femme expects to be treated.  Although when I’m not too feeling the person at the end I go dutch if they offer. LOL Hey no point in paying for something that is gonnabe a bust.  Once you are in a locked in relationship we can now revisit the payment issue.  If the girl doesn’t occasionally reciprocate coming out of pocket or treating you, we have a problem.  Because in a capitalistic society money is love.  She’s greedy and stingy and expects one way love.  If she doesn’t treat you, she probably doesn’t do the same in bed.  Drop that shit.  Dead fish is out for a free meal

Pre Date Preparation : We are lesbians, so be casual but snazzy.  Dress in an outfit that is 7/10.  Don’t wanna show your femme up but make sure she knows that you have a nice presentation.  You cannot pull out your best outfit either, because you’ll have nothing to wear for the 2nd and 3rd.  The classic mistake is pulling out your best, the girl is blown away and then you slack the second date, and when the girl was super hot she is now like, wtf happened… ewww, its over.  Same way if you meet a chick and she’s slamming, dress, hair, nails…. and she goes too casual, takes off her make up the second date.

When to End the Dating : It depends on the frequency you see each other of course.  But as lesbians we are all bored and probably not dating 10 people at once like straight people.  If the other girl tells you she is dating someone else, drop that shit.  Greedy.  Only Bisexual and Straight girls date multiple people at once.  Lesbians don’t have options so if she does, this is a problem.  Tell her to call you back when she’s done dating the other one, and you don’t run multiple game.  If anything she will like you more cus you sound like a cocky badass but a better girlfriend pick.  I’d say after a few times you’ve had sex, I wouldn’t really call it dating anymore, since we’ve both fucked in our mutual homes and we are comfortable with our bodies.  However technically you are still dating until someone says I love you and confirms that you are now their exclusive girlfriend.  That is when dating ends, and we assume that we will see each other every weekend.  Anything less is not called a relationship.  Also do not date for too long.  If you are seeing signs that you are stuck in the Dating Phase.  Kill it.  If by 2 months of dating the wining, dining and impressing has not amounted to Girlfriend status, drop it.

Sex and the City: pink greed

Sex and the City

Directed & Written by Michael Patrick King
Starring Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis, Cynthia Nixon, Chris Noth, etc.
2008, New Line Cinema/HBO; 145 minutes.

***

This movie is a bizarre Ayn Randroid, ultra-neo-liberal take on love as a possession for the godless.

The fantasy of Sex and the City most blatantly reveals itself to be completely hollow if only for the fact that none of the actresses, outside of their roles, could score equally desirable male suitors as their on-screen equivalents. Case-in-point, via Sarah Jessica Parker — her real-life beau, the squirrelly Matthew Broderick vs. the film’s “Mr. Big” — the more poised, brow-fierce Chris Noth.

But really, in this world, nothing could be less subversive than a movie about 40-somethings trotting out their inner spoiled brat, all to the tune of Hollywood film cliches and tired sentimentalities, in order to falsely, maliciously drink from young and middle-aged female doubts about a middle-aged woman’s prospects for sexual liasons.

As is per usual with obtuse chick-flicks, no male insight into arousing female desire can be gleamed from watching it. Yes, being young, healthy, good-looking and wealthy are defining factors which may very well attract the opposite sex, but the movie (centering around a marriage) focuses on these factors exclusively and then sporadically injects the ambiguous substance of “true love” between characters — the source of which we can only infer or imagine. This is unacceptable, notably because the movie specifically does not intend for the audience to concoct this love by reading between the lines. Rather, the love in these relationships is implied to exist because these women deserve it like any other material possession.

@ Amazon
@ IMDb

Sex after Life ... Wishing you a Great Saturday!

A long-time married couple made a deal that whoever died first would come back and inform the other of the afterlife.  Their biggest fear was that there was no afterlife at all.

After a long life together, the husband was the first to die.

True to his word, he made the first contact, “Marion … Marion.”

Is that you, Bob?

Yes, I’ve come back like we agreed.

That’s wonderful! What’s it like?

Well, I get up in the morning, I have sex.

I have breakfast and then it’s off to the golf course … I have sex again, bathe in the warm sun and then have sex a couple of more times.

Then I have lunch (you’d be proud – lots of greens) another romp around the golf course, then pretty much have sex the rest of the afternoon.

After supper, it’s back to golf course again. Then it’s more sex until late at night. I catch some much needed sleep, and then the next day it starts all over again.

Oh, Bob, you must be in Heaven!

Not exactly …. I’m a rabbit on a golf course in Arizona.

buck wild baby

serendipity: good fortune or luck.

my definition; the boy i had THE biggest crush on back in high school from another state moves down to my state, becomes single and asks ME to show him around i couldn’t get ANY luckier!

i milked this situation like you wouldn’t believe! this guy was GORGEOUS!!! he was tall, dark and extremely handsome. he had that charismatic smile that could make any girl’s panties wet and he was definitely the type that girls would chase…but not me.

so he moved down here about two years ago but met him again last year.  he was a couple of years older than me and i always admired him from afar…as it was his friends that i knew. i met him once from what i can remember, and i thought that was a good enough reason to add him on facebook (i know you all do it too so don’t even START to condemn me!)

a few months down the track he got in touch with me through facebook. saying that i looked like a party animal he would like to get to know better and if it would be ok to show him around. you don’t know how ECSTATIC i was! i was THE happiest person! mind you, i had a boyfriend at the time but i didn’t care!

so our first meet up was at my besty’s birthday. i made sure i looked shyt hot and i did! he didn’t stay long and i was pretty disappointed as it was because he had to go home and look after his ‘on again off again girlfriend’. i kind of lost interest in him after that. it spoilt my whole night too.

then he got in touch with me again, ofcourse giving me butterflies like you wouldn’t believe!!! so we decided to go clubbing. we partied and drank SO incredibly hard that night! we stayed till the place practically kicked us out! all the grinding that i did on him got us SO worked up, and even though i did everything i could…he didn’t make a move. i didn’t know whether i was glad he respected me, or frustrated cause i didn’t get me any ‘boom boom pow’. he looked me in the eye and told he wanted to do it the ‘proper’ way and not rush anything. since he just broke up with his girlfriend, he wanted to make sure i knew i wasn’t his rebound.

 (BUT one of my TOP philosophies is…cut the shyt, let’s fuck. no bs, just do it. cause after you have sex, that’s when you know if you’re meant to go further in your relationship).

so i played like a lil virgin girl and agreed with him and waited till our next date; a romantic dinner for two. by the way, i HATE dates! i don’t believe in them, they’re stupid. i hate sitting there and feeling awkard, stressing bout what i look like while i’m eating or if i have any food in between my teeth. definitely NOT a fan.

but i still ended up going knowing i was going to get me SUM that night

 before meeting him i got a brazilian wax done and the girl that was doing it asked me,

“so…do you have a boyfriend?”

i answered,

“nope. but i’ve got a date tonight so now you exactly why i’m in here!“

it gave her her good laugh for the day. she needed it considering how many more puns she was goin to make smooth that day.

i met up with him…had that awkward date, but at the same time i couldn’t help but melt in his pressence. after he decided to take me to a bar.  the bar was quite cool, except for the fact everyone was peeking and it really wasn’t my scene.  all i could think about was him ramming his big cock in my tight pussy.

it was getting late in the night and i REALLY needed it. so i turned to him with a sparkle in my eye and said…

“what do you think about going to a hotel now?“

he was shocked…but at the same time he had that sparkle in his eye too.

we walked into about three or four hotels and LUCKILY enough for me a hostel was willing to check us in at 12am in the morning.

i couldn’t get up there any quicker! each step i took up the stairs got me wetter by the second! we finally got in there and had the best view of the city about 10 levels up. i turned the lights off and we both kissed each other with intense passion…i was glad he shared the same ache for me as i did for him.

he took his shirt off and OMG did he have a fucking hot body! being a fighter he was beautifully toned…i could barely wait to wrap my mouth around his cock!

i’m not used to being the ‘taker’ but i had no choice when he pinned me down and slid my lacey g to the side taking his breath away and makin me bite down on my bottom lip. his tongue licked my wetness up soooo good omgggggg! he couldn’t get enough! repeatidly telling me how delicious i tasted…

i could barely contain myself and needed him in me so i pulled him up to kiss me, loving the taste of my juice. i grabbed his long hard shaft and continued to tug it making him moan louder and louder for me. i pulled away and gave him a lustful look before i made my way down to his cock, he was so long and i loved having him in my mouth. i sucked it so deep and so good that i could feel him getting harder, tasting the familiar taste of pre-cum on my tongue. i didn’t want him to cum in my mouth so i pulled out and took control on top of him for a bit. but i couldn’t let him cum without him giving it to me in my favourite position. so i leaned down and sexily whispered in his ear,

“can you do me doggy baby?“

i felt his cock twitch in me as the words rolled off my tongue and into his ear. he couldn’t agree more and got me to bend over with my beautiful ass up. i once again took his breath away as he placed his hand over my ass and giving me a good lil spank!

*apparently* i moan and feel too good and that’s the reason why guys cum too quick. who knows…i feel all the guys i’ve been with have pre-ejaculation problems..but that’s just too many guys in the world that have the same problem….maybe i’m jus that good perhaps? maybe.

after moaning and groaning like a pornstar, i finally let him cum all over my beautiful derrière and he affectionately cuddled up against me. yet another thing i don’t really believe in. i’m not really the lovey affectionate type straight away….i have to warm into these things.

he then starts talkin bout travelling, and going to Europe together then coming back here to settle down and get married. i turned to him and jokingly said,

“you’re referring to me aren’t ya?“

he looked at me with a warm smile, the lustful twinkle in his eye replaced with one that was more loving, he said,

“you never know what the future has in store baby…“

i gave him a forced smile and slowly took  my arm off him, and turned my back towards him. he wrapped his arm around me pulling me close but i knew straight away that he wasn’t the one i wanted to be with. as attracted as i was to him and as sexy as i found him…someone that was just TOO into me has always been the biggest turn off.