On Today's Menu...

Jan 26, 2007 9:44 pmMood: restless, 14 Views

Today, I'm in the mood for a relationship. Not just any ol' relationship ('cause that's easily accessible), but one designed by both parties to be fulfilling and pleasing. Something effortless but emotionful, loving, sensual, humorous, thought provoking, warm, inviting, even spiritual, passionate. The bond must be real. Intimate.What I had was done. Over. The intimacy was gone. Without that...without me looking into your eyes and wanting you...not just wanting you on a physical level, but wanting YOU...there's nothing.He'd asked me to be with him, but I couldn't bring myself to. I understand how people feel when they just go through the motions. I require that passion or I just can't get it going.That's something more than one man (including him) has said about me: I'm very passionate. If it's directed at you, in whatever manner, how very lucky that man is. If it's gone...it's quite sad.I need that to thrive. I could use a little right now.

I couldn't do it.

Jan 15, 2007 9:57 pmMood: melancholy, 34 Views

The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular one and its indifference to substitutes is one of life's major mysteries. --Iris Murdoch

I stole this quote from another person's blog.I responded to her use of the quote. However, I found myself in this position just this weekend.Simply because one presents himself before me does not mean that I can partake with the same vigor and enthusiasm...that I may have had before.I think, "His kiss does not compare..." or "This doesn't feel like..."A switch is thrown and I'm not on anymore. Lights out, good night, thanks for coming. Maybe he realizes. The coward in me hopes he does.The selfish bitch in me hopes he doesn't. Either way the situation takes care of itself: nothing changes or everything/nothing changes.I craved him. But not who was in front of me, who wanted me to want him. He wanted me to feel for him what he's building for me. I can't. Not now. I did. He told me then that he didn't want me. He did not want to give me what I needed of him.Fine. I put my feelings away and moved on. It was easy. Necessary. It was done. Now he returns and requests (out of the blue) that I resurrect what he killed. Easter's not here yet.What happened? Nothing. He kissed me, I withdrew. I couldn't respond like I do with him. I don't feel that welling passion. My mind drifts to a different encounter, different face, different sensations. I rip him apart (in my head) for being everything he's always been. It's not his fault. But it is.He's just a fling right now...but I like it.He's supposed to be something more, but I'm unsure

New Year, New Dick??

I haven't blogged in a while.

It's not that nothing's been happening but simply that I haven't wanted to put it out there like that. I realize that while my face is out here, (my tits as well), and that this is a completely public site (though many would be hard pressed to state, "Hey! Didn't I see you on ***** ****** ******" in mixed company), I won't make my entire life public.

However, there are, of course, those juicy little tidbits which can be mentioned without great recourse. This may be one of those times. Maybe, because I don't know where this little rendevous is going. Maybe, because I'm not really taking it seriously. Maybe, because I have never actually entertained, let alone gotten physical with, someone younger than myself. Maybe, for some other factors.Right now, though, we'll go as far as it goes, even if tomorrow is the last time.

There's nothing too racy or out there (yet)...just a little something that's making me say, "Oooooh." And, well shit, that's the most important thing if nothing else.He's just a couple of years younger, so nothing too drastic. He's a tradesman and has been in his line of work for at least 8 years. We met because he was doing some work for me. Now being the nosey sort that I am, I was present while the work was being done. I also contributed my two cents while he was working. He's very personable, so we took to each other and did a little lightweight flirting. As the day wore on, he continued working, our flirting grew outright. As I am who I am and the way I am, I thought nothing of it. When around someone I find attractive, I seem to be in a constant state of harmless flirt.
As work was concluding, we'd gotten past the formalities and become comfortable flirting...I still gave it no thought. He'd leave and that would be that. Instead, he gave me his number. I returned mine.We talk on the phone sometime.
BFD.HEAVY PETTING

Turns out he has to return to tweak something. He does. After he's done, he asks to stay to talk. He does; we talk. We've got fire jumping from one and other. It's palpable and it's lighthearted and fun. I let him touch me (just my hand and arm) and he knows how to modulate his touch: very sensual, non offensive. That's an art. It's inviting. It's arousing.I touch him and I see his dick rise through his trousers. He covers it modestly and discreetly {points for that}. I'm hot and bothered, but I can disguise that more than he can. We continue talking.

I want him...I want to at least kiss him, so I put myself closer to him. The conversation turns only slightly sexual and we use innuendo {more points: I love a bit of sex talk, but I've got to be feelin' you first, otherwise I'm turned off!}Given his position now, he has the opportunity to kiss my neck...and he does, ever so softly and gently. The kinda thing that makes my pussy spasm and flush with warmth.
So I had to turn to kiss him. That was some of the best kissing I've had in a while. Urgent, but sensual. Can I use the word 'succulent' in regard to kissing?? 'Cause it was. HOT! SEX!! on a PLATTER!!I wanted to fuck him. I was trying to be restrained though. You know, New Year and all!!He took off my bra and gave his complete attention to my nipples. My gawd! So to divert his attention, I began, in earnest, to carress his dick. I sprang it loose from his straining boxers and trousers and into my hand. He's not enormous, but enough to work with.
Between my breasts I placed him and began to 'titty-fuck' him. He almost lost his mind.

So he pulled me back up to kiss him. He worked his way into my sweat pants and pants to my wetness. He dipped a finger, then two, into me and curved them. It was all I could do not to become a blithering idiot with my orgasm. The insistent, yet gently firm probing fingers, his mouth on my neck and breath next to my ear and his other hand on my back holding me to him...I wanted to make him come. I wriggled away from him and down to his dick agan. I watched his face when I took it in my mouth. His eyes widened with delightful surprise and that look of lust that had been in his eyes all evening grew brighter than I'd seen previously. I know what I'm doing with a dick, so it didn't take long before he began to gasp and tense.
I love to hear a man say he's going to cum...and he did cum all over my hands, his pants, a little in my hair.

Realizing what time it was, how long he'd been here and that we both had to work in the morning (and we'd both likely sleep very well), I bid him adeiu...with promises of calls and to do it again.

We did do it again. Some it it...today; this morning. Still didn't fuck him though: the bitch with the red suitcase is visiting. And that was okay. Hell, I'm having fun just "making out" like in the good old days. And it builds anticipation like nothing else.

Those Random Snippets Again...

Nov 27, 2006 10:29 pmMood: cynical, 73 Views

oh gawd, he could get FUCKED!!
i can't put a finger on what it is...but damn!!! Out of state, be damned. Don't let me make my way there, or vice versa. All bets are off and I'm on it!!Is this what it feels like to have a grown crush?

I was tired, but I needed that rest. Don't ya know, don't ya know: why is it when you want to, need to just SLEEP, everybody and anybody is calling?
Him, HIM, him, too! It's nice to be remembered, but I had a date with a pillow.

He allows me to treat him so poorly. I think that's why I continue to mess with him. Either he's a glutton for punishment, or he doesn't think about it. But he must, because he's asked me why. I was honest. He said he'll let me dictate contact. I didn't want contact, so I didn't reinitiate it after the call.
That's not rude...that's exactly what we said.

I'm friendly. I need a guy buddy. Not necessarily one to fuck either. I've got that. Won't rule it out, but don't count on getting near the cookies: it might not happen. I need a buddy to hit the movies with, see some shows, concerts...chill stuff. We can fuck other people, and just come together to do the friend and hangout things.
Maybe, if the chemistry's right, we could lay on each other. No strings, no guarantees or promises about the future.I'm busy and I might not always want to see you.But if you can make me smile incessantly, laugh, and be comfortable, you're mint like flint.

If this is you, apply within.

An Ode to the THIGHS

(moving my blogs from another site)
Nov 19, 2006 12:18 pmMood: excited, 82 Views

I have a lust for men. I have a similar attraction for women. I think that's just an admiration, though. I've never taken it there with a woman.

Yet? Even if I did, might, could, my overwhelming draw is and will always be to men.

Why? Everything. Their scent: the natural scent that you smell even through all the cologne. Their voices: I'm a sucker for a deep voice and I get all worked up over the natural bass in a man's voice.

Their bodies: they were made to fit me.

This leads me to the thighs. I generally like a certain build of guy, though I have dated all kinds from short and "petite" to tall and skinny or tall and fat. The overriding trend is that most of them had a "football players" body. At least that's what it's described as by those folks who are supposed to be authorities on categorizing everything.

I like a man who's broad shouldered, broad chest which still tapers into narrower but squarish hips. This leads me to the thighs. Usually men with this build tend to have thick, muscular thighs.
It doesn't matter to me whether the muscles are ripped like a body builder or just there, under the surface, providing that strong, powerful understructure. I love the feel of the hamstrings under my fingertips when I am gripping the back of his thighs when he's in my mouth. The power that the thighs generate when he's coming at me, entering me in whatever position, be it just him bracing himself or actively fucking me.

Let's not forget the look of a pair of strong, muscular thighs striding across a room: the way they frame the package. The way the suppleness can contrast with his hard-on when he's ready for me. I could even go so far as the mention the tingle I get when watching a nice pair of thighs shower: the way the water glides over the skin, drops clinging to the light covering of hair now slicked down by the water.

The thighs...second only to a charming, bright smile. But I can't grip a smile can I?

(an excerpt from a song soon to be released by a major, known, singing group)

Baby...I just wanna be all boo'd up with you...

Whereever we are,
I just wanna be
all boo'd up with you...

the attention that you show me now
is enough to hold me down
whenever you're not around...

baby
I just wanna, I just wanna be
all boo'd up with you

yeah...
_____________

Do you have your boo for the winter?

Cold weather is coming and you need to be fully stocked in the mate department for the next few months.
First, the holidays. Gotta have that person to watch the ball games, parades, and winter specials with. Gotta have that person who'll do the dishes after Thanksgiving for you.

The trading of sentimental trinkets on Christmas (or Channukah or Kwanzaa) and the tender gazes of love and lust over glasses of spiked nog.

Then there's the celebrated kiss when the old year gives way to the New Year.

You got your boo?

Your boo's gotta be able to hang for at least the coldest months of the coming seasons. They've gotta be someone you can stand at least until the groundhog emerges. You've got to be able to cope with their voice, their scents, their habits. Being able to spend extended periods of time with them in confined spaces is a plus. You should be able to blend with your boo: sense of humor, outlook on world events, activity planning. Even if you don't match perfectly, please make sure you and your winter boo don't clash too much. If you clash too much and too often, one person will want to leave the other and you can't be a boo without having a co-boo.

Now's the time to find your boo!!

This month is almost over and time is running short.
Remember, your winter boo does not have to become a year round boo. It's common for boos to become less interactive as the weather warms. Although, having spent all the winter with each other, some winter boos do turn into lasting boos. Nothing wrong with that either.

Oh, and boo sex! It can be some of the best there is. Coming in from the cold rain or snow, getting warm together and then making it HOT!!... it's the stuff of legend and memories. What else have you got to do during the winter besides thinking of and finding new ways to make your boo cum?

sigh.

I'm single and looking to get boo'd up.

Wow....I feel so lost.

and so free.

All at the same time.

I haven't diary-ed or blogged or released in written form in some time.

I've got all this S.H.I.T. bottled up. Here's one thing. Fifty-leben dozen more.

Time to regain my even keel.

___________________

I'm with R. Right now R is not floating my boat. R's babymomma moved in with him. Why? She's the equivalent of a deadbeat: professional slacker who doesn't provide for the kid. R handles that.

So why not have the KID move in?...Not them both. She's grown. She needs to learn to fend for self. Others do. The old adage, "You don't eat if you don't work," applies here: she needs to learn it.
I'm not jealous. Not afraid they'll rekindle. Shit, if they do, they do. I don't think it's likely though. Not deluding myself, but I feel pretty secure in that. However, the willingness to be a receptacle for other's discarded mess (she was dumped by her fiance) that he exhibits bothers me. Sigh.

And so...As I'm prone to do when I'm feeling dejected and despondent, I turn elsewhere looking for a temporary boat-float. Found one. Kinda. It's not even that serious though. It does, however, give me something to think about other than R. That's just it though: I'm thinking about it too damned much.

Met online (what's new? seems like I only meet flakes and deadasses in person). I was busy being elated about R a few weeks ago, so we didn't really connect until recently. Connect? Did we. Could be onesided, but I felt a *click* that I'm missing right now. I've been missing it for a while, apparently. Funny what introspection reveals.
It felt good to feel "felt", understood, affirmed. Laughing at common ironic views on things, similar sentiments. Damn. Cool.

I needed some simple conversation and listening and I got that. I needed some common appreciation of subjects and I got that. Then I wanted attentive, intuitive sensuality combined with sexuality, verbalized desire, fervor, heat. Boy did I get that.

I feel like a fuckin' crack addict.

He probably didn't mean to, but this man blew me the fuck away. Don't get me wrong, I'm not downing his skills, 'cause he gots S.K.I.L.L.S.!! but it was more what I was needing that made it so spectacular. He filled that need and now I'm fiending like, "Please sir: I want some more!"

I think I simply want escape in that feeling...and I want to revisit it over and over and over. Some people take long baths to wash away the b.s. of life; I'm using the high I got that night.
It's only that particular high that I crave at this moment.

Sad to say...don't think I've ever done this before: while I was with R the other day I was fantasizing about [we'll call him] Z. I've never before had an issue with R's fucking/lovemaking/sexing. I felt so unabashedly entitled to have this other man's face and lips and tongue and hands and dick and body and voice in my thoughts. I couldn't push the thoughts away hard as I tried.

I went to sleep with this man on my mind and awoke fearing I'd given voice to my thoughts and fantasy. He was not a fantasy though: he is a reality that I've experienced. I want and need more of it.

Fickle as I am though, this craving, this desire, the yearning may vanish as quickly as it began. It could all be an exaggeration of something nice, but less than what I've mocked it up to in my head. NAW! I was there and it was what it was.

I don't feel guilty about cheating. I do feel, know, that something is missing. How to fix that is the bigger problem.

Of course, my mind changes direction as the fish in my astrological indicator, so tomorrow may bring another sun.

Big sigh.

Fuckin' in a parking lot!!

Ahhh...vehicular sex...

Haven't done that in a long while. Extra-vehicular sex? Haven't done that in, um, 11 or 12 years.

Why do it, you ask?? Because it's fun. I'm a to-the-soul exhibitionist (to an extent) and there's nothing like the thrill of getting caught/someone seeing you like fuckin' outdoors. Well, there is the fleeting thought of "Is this how hookers do it?" or "I surely hope the police don't roll up right now!" But those thoughts are interspersed between the "uuuuhhhgg!" and the "ooooooooohhhh" and the 'splacking' sound of him smacking my ass---so I don't focus too long on the negatives.

Who was the lucky fellow?? A guy I'd met and been flirting around with for a while. There was SOOOO much sexual tension between us that just had to be eliminated. And I just couldn't wait any longer. Besides, I never miss the opportunity to completely fluster someone...this was one of those occasions. I ALWAYS carry condoms with me so I was prepared. He had been working me over on the nipple tip so I was wet and rarin' to go. Then he put his hand in my crotch and it was all I could do to not cum before I got the chance to fuck him.

After a few internal debates and second thoughts, I reached into my purse and got the condom. I opened it, rolled it on him and turned around to drop my pants. Yes. Pants. Not even a skirt to make this simple. He, who'd been a bit skeptical, now helped me disrobe my bottom half, bend me over and mount me. I'm actually glad he's not as tall as those I usually date: I wore flat shoes and still had to toot my ass up in the air for the proper angle. Had he been taller, I'd have been tossed over onto my head.

Commence fucking we did. Like two half crazed animals in heat. He's a loud feller too! Because of my doubled over position, I was concealed between our two vehicles. However, he was fully visible to be seen in the throes of something breathtaking - with his shirt tail gripped between his teeth. Having looked back at him and seeing his expression, I was fully convinced that my goal of flustering was done.
And when he came and let loose a hearty groan, I surely knew.


Will I make vehicular and extra-vehicular/wildlife sex a regular thing?? Nah... I'm not homeless and I don't live with my momma, and I'm not a cheap date. But! for that extra spice and to reminisce and re-enact....oh YEAH!!

GAME OVER.

Suicide is painless?? No...probably not.

but it is NOT an option once you have children. At least that's what they say. And that's why I'm still here. Funny though, I'm depressed because of the disposition of one of my children.

That's okay though: you come into this world alone and you leave (usually) alone. So I'll be leaving HER alone.

Who is HER?? Mother. That's how she will be referred to from now on, if there's reference at all. Try to drive a wedge and do it your way?? I told them you would do this, and they didn't believe me. That's okay, you made your play: game over.

GAME OVER. I'm grown and I don't have to deal with the bullshit. GAME OVER. Independent since 1995. Funny though...now you wanna act like you were always around...like I couldn't have done it without you. But I IDID do it without you. I couldn't have made it through without D.G.

And you want to talk about things I "borrowed" and didn't return. How the fuck you gonna say I "borrowed" the bike pump and didn't return it. I've moved 4 times with it in my possession...the first time was when I was moving from your house. Duh! And that's not the first time you've made that comment about borrowing shit.

Okay: tit for tat?? You want it; got it. You borrowed money off my Discover card and didn't put it all back, leaving BIG balances because you didn't have the money to pay the rent. Same with Visa Gold. You paid for your wedding dress and acoutrement with my Robinsons-May card...never fully paid that back (and that balance was ZERO when you used it!!) My American Express? You paid it (over time) but got it cancelled because you charged what you couldn't afford to pay off in full. I think you're into me for a good $7000, if you wanna tit for tat. And you'll say that I owe you $750 from moving into this house. True. But recently when going through my old check registers I see checks with your name on them labeled "help". Hmmm...I think we're even on the $750.

That's okay though because GAME OVER. I've done fine on my own. You get an attitude when you can't get in my business as you like to be. Well, I'm not one of your sad sorry sack friends who you gripe about to me....but smile at and visit with. You told me before that I hurt your feelings about some bullshit a while back. Oh well. That was how I really felt, and as I crest and cross over 30, I have no desire to stifle my true feelings. That was the past, for the birds. You liked to say how I was just like my father in that respect. The tradition of the genes continues.
I get more grown everyday, and have learned to deal with and speak the truth. Whatever that may be. I will not be like you and make it more palatable to myself by twisting it. I'll deal with this situation, but when it is done, GAME OVER. Have your fun because it's all over.

Derelict Daughter??

I haven't made any reservations or plans for my mother's Mother's Day "event".

I'm an only child.

I'm going to admit it: I'm a little confused.

I AM A MOTHER, twice over, to my little ones. So MY Mother's Day plans have revolved around what I'm going to do with my little ones. Not that my mom is not involved, or appreciated, but I have omitted her as my focus.

Heck....Since no one has access to my home to do it...I'm hoping BigSon can make me some boiled eggs and toast for breakfast. Maybe even some Hot Dogs (he can make some mean kosher franks) Anyway, I want to have a day about ME, since I'm worn out and I feel I deserve some recognition.

I'm buying myself some tix to see Mint Condition and maybe even Rahsaan Patterson at a couple of venues this month. I might even splurge and get tix to Kenny Lattimore too! It's all about me.

I saw a beautiful gift on TV which I'd ordered...and had it not been broken when it arrived, I'd have had it engraved with a thoughtful phrase and the kids give it to her for Mother's Day. I had to send it back though...and I haven't thought about it since.

I will have the kids do something for her in recognition of her grandmothership...but I'm the MOMMY right now. I guess this post is driven because there are times when I feel like she's competing for MOMMY-DOM with my own kids. I had to set her straight recently about coming into MY house and setting "rules" for when my BigSon was supposed to do 'A-B-C'. I had to tell her that that was my domain and the rules that I've already set are what he follows.


Maybe I'm just being Vain and Self-Centered??

We had a good talk on the phone yesterday, but I do tire of talking to her sometimes, especially if the conversation is not directed toward some particular topic. I love her, but once we've exhausted the topic, we can hang up. Besides, not prolonging B.S. conversing will keep it fresh for next time.

Eh...maybe I'm hormonal. Or maybe, it's like I've been saying all along: My tolerance for B.S. is growing shorter by the year. I do know there are two people that I've met in the last 8 years that I can vibe with on the level that I vibe with only 1 other person, T & F. Both of those chicks live outta state though. F was only here temporarily on an assignment and T moved a couple of years after we got out of college. She's coming for the summer, a couple of weeks.
I'll be very happy.

For now, I guess I'm just remiss or something. Oh well. At least I know it.

Irony Is....

the white woman standing in front of me with the last name "Coon". She looked like an old southern broad who would have used that name in it's racist sense, or have known someone who did.

Sterotype?? So.

The clerk at the checkout line put her last name to my first name when giving me my forms. When I called his attention to it, he became flustered and went out of his way to prove to me that it was an 'honest' mistake.

Yeah.