Less Rants, More Sex

My "Half Naked Thursday" is going to be verbal as opposed to a picture. Sorry guys. :) My rant yesterday evening should be a hint to something about me, something I really do try pretty hard to control. What's that? I have a temper. Well, it has been said that I have a temper; I think I can just be 'misunderstood'. In case I am not being obvious enough in that last sentence, I am joking. Yes, I have a temper. And no, it is not something of which I am proud. I do try to control it. The Boyfriend practically never bears the brunt of it. Wide Load has maybe dealt with it once or twice. He can be such a butt though. Truthfully, no one has ever said once that I have a temper. I guess a nice pair of breasts and legs help me out in that area. But, I know it about myself even if no one points it out to me. I seem to do anger either not at all or full out pedal to the metal. Someone got on my nerves yesterday and what I intended as a minor rant became a full blown explosion. Now, this may sound weird, but in this particular instance I am not apologizing for the rant. The source of my frustration yesterday never did get that it was not what he said that was the issue - but the way he said it. His inability to take responsibility for his behavior is kind of what leads me to writing this tonight. I let someone else take control over how I was feeling. It does not matter how much of a jerk he was being - I was feeling pretty good that day and should not have let someone else have that much power, especially someone I did not even know. After reading everyone's kind remarks, I think I am going to remove the post. Again, not because I am sorry for how he feels or anything of that sort - but because my rant takes away from what I wanted this blog to be about. I am not sure any of this makes any sense. Maybe I am speaking - writing - gibberish. It makes sense in my brain; I am just not sure that I am conveying that sense down through my fingers into my typing. I want a relatiionship that is about passion. But the passion I want is not anger. So, I want to take a back step and refocus here. Long story short - less rants, more sex (thought you guys would prefer me to sum it up).

And again, thanks to everyone for all your kind remarks.

Biketoberfest Sex

I have been inundated with the question – “what happened at Biketoberfest”. Well, truth be told, it is a bit of a blur to me. Yes, I had a little bit to drink. Okay, maybe more than a little bit. :) I do not know how exciting I was – though Wide Load certainly did not complain any – but let me try to dig through the haze and pull out some details.

The second most frequently asked question was, “was I wearing panties”. Yes and no. Yes, I was wearing panties when the day began. No, I was not wearing panties by the end of the day. Wide Load was buying me drinks and driving me nuts by running his hands up my ass. It seemed like a brilliant idea to my beer addled brain to take my thong off when I went to the bathroom at some point and to surprise him with it by putting it into his hand. The fun I had surprising him, his laugh, and the kiss that followed made it all worth it. What I did not realize was that he had taken my thong and tied it around his sleeve, so basically the entire world could see that I was not wearing my panties any longer. I suppose that should also tell you how far gone I was to not have noticed for what was a very long time. And do not ask me – I do not know if I was or was not wearing them by the time of the pictures I posted. I seem to recall that as being fairly late into the day, so I am thinking I was going commando by then.

Now, as for did Wide Load get lucky? Wide Load was “lucky” the day he met me. :) I mean, after all, how many other women would dress the role for their man. But, as for did he score . . . well, duh? Slutty Catholic School Girl . . . add alcohol . . . the more correct question would be how often did Wide Load get lucky? A lot actually. Things began slow though. It kind of surprised me, but he was being the conservative one. I pulled him back to the truck at one point. I put him into the driver's seat, opened his pants, and straddled him. He slipped right inside of me like I was designed just especially for him to be inside. I was definitely without panties by this time and I can not tell you how much more naughty I felt walking around with his cum dripping out of me. Not much more happened until we left for where we were staying over-night. I tried to give him road head, but he stopped me. He apparently has had some bad luck with getting pulled over by the police. Never any tickets, but he says he just gets pulled over too much to risk it (he had stopped drinking hours earlier too for much the same reason whereas I was still feeling no pain). But I did get to torture him on the drive. I enjoyed it because I knew he would exact his revenge when we stopped. Which he did, time after time after time. :) :) :)

Okay, one more photo . . .

Okay, one more photo. :)

I was standing with Wide Load enjoying a hard rock band. He saw another slutty Catholic school girl and so I started dancing with her.

Slutty Catholic School Girl Uniform

I have been back and forth over whether to post this picture or not. Why? I do not know why. Probably for the same reason I get nervous every time I think about posting a picture. Okay, here goes:

Biketoberfest

This last weekend was Biketoberfest at Daytona Beach. Its been a while since I've gone. The Boyfriend, as you might have guessed, is not all that out-going. And Biketoberfest is all about being out-going. What's the point in going to the world's largest adult costume party if you are going to be timid and reserved? Wide Load joked about going – I played innocent like I had never gone before - but he said he thought it might be too wild for me. I came back saying I could slut up, but was not sure he would be able to handle it. (I have never told him about Harley. Truthfully, aside from this blog, I have very rarely every mentioned Harley to anyone, including the Boyfriend). What man is going to resist that challenge?

I will not get into how, but with a little creative thought, I was able to get away from the Boyfriend for the weekend. Suffice it to know that I was free to leave and come back when I chose too without concern of any questioning.

I met Wide Load out of town. When he pulled up in his truck, I got out of my car wearing a knee length jacket. It was kind of cute seeing the disappointment in his eyes. He had no clue what was under the coat and just assumed I gone conservative. I will admit that I was extremely nervous. I had actually purchased this particular costume planning on a trip with Wide Load in the near future. It was anxiety provoking enough to wear it with just him in the room – it was anxiety beyond compare to plan on wearing it walking down the street. So, what was it? He began driving and I began pulling off the coat; revealing me wearing a very slutty Catholic schoolgirl outfit. When he damned near wrecked the truck from watching me get the coat off, I knew I had succeeeded.

Coming Soon . . .

I have another road trip to make soon. Wide Load is supposed to join me.

The Couple in the Parking Lot

Last Saturday was a beautiful day. The sky was just the right shade of blue. It was warm without being stifling hot. The sun felt good on your skin. All in all it was the kind of day to be outside doing something. The Boyfriend asked me to go with him on a few errands and I was more than willing to keep him company. Ah yes, but he left out one of his intended stops. I won't go into details, but he can get lost in there for hours at a time. Instead, I had him get me a milkshake from a drive thru for me to sit in the car while he did his thing inside the store. He parked far out into the lot under a big shade tree, gave me a peck on the cheek, then trekked into the store. I was not paying attention to much of anything when two cars pulled in together and parked just in front of me under another shade tree. It was a man and a woman. She got out of her car and almost skipped to get into the passenger side of his car. Right or wrong, I immediately thought it was a couple having an affair and they were trying to have a private rendevous in the middle of the day. Smiling, I tried to sneak a peak through his rear window without being too obvious about it. A few moments later, the screaming began. She jumped out of his car and almost ran back to her car door. He rushed out and I, for a moment, thought he was going to attack her. I debated calling 911. I was worried for her, so now I have reason to give a watchful eye. Before too long, I realized he was the one that was probably more in danger. She was wild. It was impossible not to hear. My windows were down and we were not that far apart. She was pissed. I was not sure what he had done, but I knew this much – he needed to stay out of swinging range. Every other word out of her mouth was "fuck". She ripped him a new asshole. I really couldn't hear him say much. I am not saying he was being the saint here, just that he was not yelling. I gathered, from her yelling, that she felt he was being needy and trying to be manipulative and attention-seeking. That's my summation. She described it more like, "you're being the fucking girl with all your fucking feelings". This went on for almost a half hour. She was in his face. She never actually touched him though. While I could not actually hear him, what I could see of his face and body language suggested he was being equally a pain in the ass. She hollered why he couldn't just love what they had without trying to be possessive and demanding. She kept saying they were done, said it repeatedly actually, except she never left. Then I could hear her tone change. She was still loud, but her voice was getting softer and less angry. She sat down on his trunk and said, loud enough to hear, "you get me so wound up all the time and then I am wrung out". I got the feeling then that they'd been through this dance before and that, if he danced his part right, he would be getting laid before too long. She became more, to sound stereotypical for a moment, 'girly' with her giggling and gently touching him then. The Boyfriend returned at this point, so I will never know how it finished, but I am pretty sure . . . . unless he started in with his "fucking feelings" again . . . that he was going to get some positive attention (you know, laid).

Why tell this story. Mostly because it was something I did see happen and it interested me. Partly because there were some obvious games being played, though I am not exactly sure who was playing what. It looked like they had their male/female roles reversed. And it also looked like something he maybe did from time to time to get some attention – even being yelled at is better than being ignored. And if it had been a guy yelling, instead of the girl, would I have called the police?

The Bruise

I promised a post on the bruise upon my leg.

I will say I am sorry now to all the guys who wrote hoping to hear about some wild night. Sadly, the truth is considerably more tame.

On the night before I took the picture, the Boyfriend was feeling horny. I have described before how he gets when he is horny. He puts so much effort into trying to be subtle while finding out if I am in the mood or if he can entice me into being in the mood. Sometimes, his machinations are annoying. Other times, I find him amusing, like he's going through this pre-getting-laid dance for me. The poor dear has just never figured out that I am pretty much always in the mood and that, even if I wasn't, that I would still be open to being the perfect girlfriend for him. Well, unfortunately for the Boyfriend, the other night I found his ritual to be annoying. Do not misunderstand me, he was going to get laid, I just wanted to get it over with.

Let me repeat that last line – "I just wanted to get it over with".

I sometimes think I am God's little amusement toy. "Oh, Rachel wants it to end fast, well let me see what I can do about that!"

The more attentive reader will recall how I said that every once in a while how the Boyfriend gets these erections that just do not go away. Diamondcutters. And I was the diamond.

We began normally enough. He tried to be very attentive to my needs. I moved him past that. His getting off quickly was my mission. Hands and knees always seems to be a crowd pleaser, so I got into position and he slid into Rachel to take care of business. Yeah, this went on for a long time. How long? Well, the Boyfriend is not one who changes position much. We moved around so much that I could not even begin to tell you all the positions. Doggie, bent over, missionary, bj, me on top, me straddling him on the sofa (yep, he even pulled me into other rooms), on and on and on. So much for end this quickly, huh. Sweat was pouring off the Boyfriend. I know this because of all the sweat that dripped onto me whenever he was astride me. I will admit that he exhausted me. I reached the point that I was just there for him. He moved me and I went with him. I know he passed the two hour mark. Believe me or not. We started before Glee and I fully expected to be back before it ended. I could hear (we didn't turn the tv off) the 10:00 news coming on long before he finally finished. I imagine my eyes were rolling around in my head. This went on and on and on.

The bruise? Well, I can not say for sure, but I suspect it came towards the end. He had pulled me back into the bedroom and had me on my back in the bed. I have said many times before that his favorite position is me on my back with him holding my legs high over my head. I had been in this position several times already that night. First, though, hee threw me – I really was pretty much a limp rag at this point – onto my back on the bed. This time, he was standing on the side of the bed and I was laying across the bed. He lifted my legs up – not resting on his shoulders – and he held them by the thighs with his hands. From there, he rode me hard some more. He stopped riding gently more than an hour ago. I suspect the bruise on my thigh came then. I have corresponding hand grips upon my ass too.

He finished by moving me back onto the bed and lifting my legs high up over my head. I could tell that he was exhausted himself as well. I actually felt bad for him. He wanted to finish inside of me so badly and it just wasn't going to happen. I just looked up into his eyes. I remember him looking down into mine then. He took hold of the headboard, which was unusual. He later told me that his arms just couldn't hold him up anymore. He just hung there with his upper body over me and his dick buried inside of me. He didn't thrust anymore, but just rocked along with his weight because of the way he was positioned. My ankles were under his arms which meant my toes were also touching the headboard way back behind my head. He just kept looking down in my eyes. He seemed to enjoy that so much that I never dreamed of taking my eyes off of him. I looked up at him. In hindsight, I think he liked me looking so submissive for him. I knew when he felt something building inside of him. I almost tried to find the energy to rock with him, but then decided he was enjoying the way he was doing me right then. So, I lay there, continuing to look up into his face. He had closed his eyes by now, but would sometimes open them just enough to see if I was still looking. He rocked and rocked and then the most peaceful look came and I knew he was a second from cumming inside of me. He did and we lay there for the longest time afterwards. We didn't move until he finally slipped out of me.

Legs

My Thursday post on a Wednesday. Hey, better an early picture than no picture at all. Right? Those of you who enlarge the photos x a million (you guys know who you are) will notice the darkness on my leg. That's a bruise which might be the focus of another post someday soon. :)