New Year's Eve Date





Daddy can be described as a big fan of Superman.  He has more than a few things w the big red "S" on them.  And this is the wallpaper on his computer.  He says that he likes this picture because its not what you usually see of the Man of Steel; as tired from a long day and just needing a few moments of quiet.  But I look at the picture and I see my Daddy.  Daddy is my Superman.

 

He does so much for everyone.  And never asks for anything in return.  Before he retired, he ran a company w several hundred employees.  I think he knew every single one of them.  And I remember, whenever I went to his office, how so many of them would tell me how wonderful he was or would tell me about something he had done to help them out.  He continued helping people after he retired.  He took a part-time job and it seems like there is always younger men asking him to hang out w them.  He says they're just hanging out telling stories.  But I've listened to him when they call or text him, he's more like a mentor to them.  And not just about the job, but about everything including their future careers and even about girlfriends.  He never brings anyone home however.  He says home is his place to regroup, his fortress of solitude.

 

This year, I want New Year's Eve to be all about Daddy.  He was asked to go out w "the guys", but said he told them he was tired and just wanted to hang out at the house.  I asked him if he'd like to have pizza and a movie marathon w me then.  His smile told me it was a date.

 

I wish everyone a safe and Happy New Year's.



Friday Night w Randi

The Friday night before Christmas was the office Christmas Party. Spouses and significant others were invited; Randi and me opted instead to go as each others "date". It resolved our respective frustrations w our love lives. In my case, Harley had disappeared and was not returning calls or texts, the emotionally distant Boyfriend and parties are just generally not a good mix, and Tree is just so damned young.  Given all my drama w the men in my life, it's been easy for Randi to fly under the radar.  Randi, you see, is an instigator.  And a drunk Randi is an uninhibited instigator.

The evening began w me learning a new word - "pre-drinking".  Randi wanted to arrive a bit early so we could have a few drinks before the others got there.  I thought I looked pretty damned good in a pair of painted on jeans, spiked boots, and bright red blouse.  Randi had on jeans also, w fuck me heels, and a green sparkly blouse.  The party itself was pleasant.  A few surprises and laughs, but nothing that would cause anyone any embarrassment back at the office.  The owner of the agency even got out onto the dance floor w me and Randi.  Nothing risque; all clean fun, though I'm sure he was beaming at the attention of two attractive ladies .  Randi may have been "pre-drinking", but she essentially stopped when everyone arrived, milking that same drink throughout dinner I noticed.  Now that I think about it, I wonder if her "pre-drinking" was really more intended to loosen me up beforehand.

The party broke up.  Problem - Neither of us wanted to go home.  Solution - Randi and I simply moved ourselves into the bar.  Mostly it was just us, swapping stories (and did I ever learn a lot about Randi), drinking, and a lot of dancing; mostly dancing w each other, sometimes dancing w guys who bought a few drinks.  And then a new problem surfaced.  Driving home was not really an option for either of us.

My beer addled brain saw this as a good reason to text Harley.  I'm glad Randi stopped me though.  We debated who to call; joking about who would be most likely to get us and who would we most like to throw into bed for a threesome.  We agreed that pretty much knocked Harley and the Boyfriend out as candidates.  Randi was keen on calling up Tree.  She eventually started texting the friend who had loaned her the truck we used for her Christmas Tree.  He texted back that he'd be there in a little bit.  It was a bit too chilly to wait outside for him, so we remained inside.  And as long as we were inside, then we might as well have another drink.  And dancing just goes w drinking. 

We managed to drag RF (Randi's friend) out onto the dance floor when he arrived, like any man is going to resist two women wanting to rub their bodies against him.  He did remain a good boy when we returned to the table and stuck to water.  We finished our drinks and made our way out to his truck.  At the truck, RF unlocked the doors w his remote and walked to the driver's side (when did men stop opening doors).  Randi took shotgun.  His truck was an extended cab and I had fully intended to get into the back seat.  Randi made some joke about me sitting on her lap.  The smartass drunk in me surfaced and I climbed onto her lap.  I hadn't planned to stay, but the next thing I know, we're driving down the road.  And I'm still sitting in Randi's lap.  And she's starting to cop a feel!!!!

It's hard to recall, given my impairment, what happened when.  A lot began to happen.  I think, in hindsight, Randi's putting her hands on my breasts was just her being a smartass back.  Then I had to go and up the ante.  I unbuttoned my blouse.  Not to be out-done, Randi put her hands on my bra.  "Do you like them", I joked.  She responded by slipping her hand under my bra.  It may have been cold outside, but I swear it was getting hot in that truck.

RF to this point was nothing more than an admiring bystander to me and Randi's game of who was the bigger smartass (by the way, Randi clearly is).  My dulled senses thought it would be funny to ask Randi if she needed to "pay" for the ride like she did for borrowing the truck to get her Christmas tree (see "Randi's Christmas Tree").  Randi put the question to RF, "well, do we?"  I caught that "we" and asked Randi if she had a mouse in her pocket.  She said "I got you sitting on my lap".  And then she tweaked my nip!!!!

I'd like to tell you we then proceeded to have this epic threesome, but I can't.  RF's sister was on leave from the Army for Christmas and was staying at his apartment.  I half expected Randi to invite RF back to her place then.  My mind was racing w questions; am I going to go through w this, is she just joking, did I want her to be just joking.  I was surprised to hear Randi say her place was out because the kids were not w their father this weekend.  I knew that wasn't true, but I didn't say anything.  Instead, we all agreed to a raincheck.

Back at Randi's apartment, I gave RF a hug to thank him and staggered inside using Randi's keys to open the door.  Randi stayed w RF in the truck.  Before passing out on the couch, I sneaked a look through the curtain.  I could see RF in the truck looking very happy.  Randi was nowhere to be seen.  Even my addled brain could deduce that she was giving him head.


The Naughty List?

Tonight, if I am on Santa's "Naughty List", do you think he will give me a chance to earn my way off of it?

 

I really do want to be a 'good girl'.

Merry Christmast

Randi is an instigator.  And Friday night, she was at her best . . . or worst . . . depending on your perspective I suppose.

I may talk about Friday later.  In case Santa was too busy to notice, I'd rather not admit to anything that would put me on the "Naughty List" w only two days to go before Christmas.  Right now, I have something else I want to say.

I wanted to take just a moment to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.  Over the years, the people I've met through here have almost all been great.  I don't know that I've ever said it, I have appreciated you more than I can begin to describe.

Merry Christmas,
Rachel 

 



Worst Week Ever - Best Weekend Ever

My week could be called the "Worst Week Ever".  But the weekend could also be called "Best Weekend Ever".  I already felt mentally spent from a very long miserable week before I had even gotten into the office Friday morning.  The phone rang as I was driving in.  I thought to myself, "dammit, can't they at least let me get there before they start".  My bad - It was Harley.  He asked me to come over for dinner.  I spent the weekend.

 

Friday evening could not arrive fast enough. I was like a little girl waiting for Christmas morning.  And, as it turned out, the week ended just like it had begun - horrible.  I started walking towards my car at 4pm.  I finally got to it at about 7:30pm.  I had planned to stop by the house to get some clothes.  I didn't know if I was spending the night or not yet, but a girl should always be prepared - right?  Not wanting to wait one more minute for my weekend to actually start, I decided to go directly to Harley's instead.  I don't tend to wear a lot of clothes when Harley's around anyway, for some reason.  :)  Harley met me at the car when I pulled into his driveway.  He kissed me as I got out and suddenly the entire week seemed like some distant other world.

 

I lost count of the number of times Harley and I made love Friday night.  I couldn't get enough of him.  And he didn't seem to be able to get enough of me.  There were a lot of special moments, but two in particular that I'll mention.  The first was late Friday night.  The only lights on in the house were from the Christmas Tree.  We were slow dancing (long story) in front of it.  Harley was wearing his jeans, no shirt.  I was completely naked.  I got down on my knees and took him into my mouth.  At first, I set the tone.  Taking him deep into my mouth and sometimes holding him there, kissing along the head and along his shaft, and bobbing my head.  Sometimes, his eyes were on my taking in ever detail, like he was trying to burn the image into his memory; other times, his eyes were closed and there was a smile on him that took over his whole face.  I loved being able to do that for him.  Later, he held my head and set his own pace between my lips.  For the longest time, he went slow and deep, sometimes holding himself deep inside of my mouth.  Later, he quickened his pace.  I held his shaft firm between my lips and let him set the pace he wanted into my waiting mouth.  On my knees, sitting on my ankles, the Christmas Tree lights twinkling beside us, his dick thrusting into my mouth, I could not have been happier or more submissive. 

 

The second special moment I'll describe happened Saturday afternoon.  I was laying in bed having just woken up from a nap (hey, I don't get a lot of sleep when I'm w Harley).  I lay there for a while, basking in happiness.  I could hear him on the phone.  He was talking w his sister who lives up north.  I came out of the room and gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek.  I was going to get a beer and maybe sit outside, enjoying th day and giving Harley some privacy.  He stopped me and got me naked again.  Harley has some sort of headset he can wear w his home phone which left his hands free to get me naked.  I thought he maybe wanted me on my knees while he talked.  He stopped me and bent me over the kitchen table.  Then he continued his conversation w his sister, talking about her kids, while he fucked me over the kitchen table.  He rode me slowly at first.  Several times he just stopped deep inside of, letting his dick just soak up my juices.  He held my wrists behind my back, keeping me there, like I had any intentions of getting up.  He quickened the pace and was now loudly thrusting into me.  His body was making so much noise hammering into mine that I was worried his sister had to be over hearing.  When he smacked my ass and called me his "slut", I knew she had to be overhearing.  I was so relaxed w his fucking me that I hadn't even realized he'd finally hung up. 

 

 

 

 

The Next Day

Tree (I think I like "Tree" better than "CT") passed his first real test.  You know the one.  He got to feel the girl up.  Did he have enough sense to call her the next day?

I am pleased to announce that Tree passed.  He texted (texting counts the same as calling) me Sunday afternoon.  I should probably first note that he passed the first part of the exam by texting me immediately after we got into our respective cars to go our separate ways.  Calling immediately after bought him a few hours to call later in the day on Sunday; otherwise I would have expected him to call Sunday morning.  (Seriously, is anyone only just now realizing that I have issues?)  :)   Here are some edited highlights:

 

T: I had the most amazing dream last night.

 

R: About?

 

T: I dreamed I met this drop dead gorgeous woman who was funny and just amazing.

 

T: What do you remember the most about last night?  (This is a typical guy thing because men are always comparing and rating instead of just enjoying the whole experience).

 

R: You tell me first.

 

T: Nothing can beat seeing you walk up that first time knowing you were coming to go out w me.  (I gave him bonus points for being sweet, but I could not resist messing w him).

 

R: What, you didn't think squeezing my breasts was memorable?!?!

 

T: They - YOU - were amazing!!!!

 

T: I was physically moved by how AMAZING you - AND THEY - were.

R: Hopefully you did not go home in too much discomfort.

 

T: Some, but it was well worth it.

 

R: And now, any discomfort,

T: Loads.
 

 T: It was too bad our privacy got interrupted.  (Two other couples had started walking around the lake as well).

R: I didn't tell you to stop.

T: I didn't think you wanted an audience?

R: Why not . . . don't you?

 

First Date w CT

I was having a nice quiet (boring) night at home last night, watching a movie, and just relaxing (being a slug).  The movie was your basic Lifetime romance story where the girl always ends up w the right guy at the end.  In hindsight, I was primed and ready . . . just waiting for the 'right' guy to want my 'attention'.  Enter CT.

CT (Christmas Tree Man) sent me a picture, adding "this is 'who' has been hanging out w me tonight".  We texted off and on then through the night and my movie. He'd had a rough day working the trees.  He said that the first few weeks into the season, he loves to work the trees because everyone is happy and having fun when they come to pick out a tree, But the closer it gets to Christmas, the more demanding and rude people become.  None of that is critical to know except to explain that CT was drained.  Drained and hungry, that is, because he had apparently not had time to eat all day either.  The next thing I know is that I'm throwing on a pair of jeans to keep CT company at Denny's.  Pretty fancy place for our first 'date', huh?  I really wasn't hungry, so I didn't eat.  CT, however, was so famished that he did not mind my not eating w him.  Besides being funny, the other thing that stands out about him, to me, is that he is so young; every bit ten years younger than me.  I am more used to men being ten years older than me.  We swapped stories and kept each other smiling.

 

I think he was having fun.  I knew that I was, so I wasn't ready for the night to end.  I was pleased when he asked if I'd like to take a walk w him first before going home.  We drove to a nearby small lake (a different lake than the one I was at w Harley) which has a sidewalk going around it.  Maybe because he was so young, but I caught myself thinking like a teenage girl.  I was actually wondering how long I would have to wait before he finally kissed me.  As it turned out, I did not have to wait long.  We were holding hands and walking when he pulled up short and spun me to face him.  "There is something I just have to do", he said, then he pulled me in for a kiss.  He kisses well.

 

The rest of the night was like that.  We walked. We talked, We stopped to kiss.  Sometimes he would stand behind me and kiss along the sides and back of my neck.  Whenever he stood behind me, he always wrapped his hands around me; sometmes low around my waist, sometimes high around my shoulders.  His hands felt good around me.

 

And then, one time when he had me in front of him w his lips along my neck, I felt his hands just underneath my breasts.  I was okay w what I knew would eventually be coming.  I tried to be careful w what I did so that I did not accidentally suggest to him that he needed to stop there.  Essentially, I followed his cue; walk when he walked, stop when he stopped, spin when he moved me.  His hands returned several times to linger just beneath my breasts.  I guess he understood there was no "stop sign" yet.  A few moments later, he slid them from just beneath my breasts to cupping each one.  Nuzzling along my neck, he gently lifted and squeezed me.  In time, he moved his hands underneath my shirt and then underneath my bra.  I remember him saying into my ear, "your skin is so cool to the touch".  I remembered thinking that his hands felt so warm.  His hands felt good around me and felt even better on me. 

 

That's how the night went.  We walked.  We talked.  He felt me up.  : )  And no, we did not go any further.  It was a very pleasant night.  I had a great time. 

Harley and Christrmas Tree Man

CT (Christmas Tree) Man has mad skills w texting.  First, he has texted just enough to remain interesting and not enough to be a cell stalker.  Second, he has kept me laughing or, at least, smiling.  I'm saying, if a date can keep me laughing, then his chances of getting into my pants greatly increase.  Third, and I really can not emphasize this enough, he did not get crude.  I do not know why men who read my blog think I really want to read or see pictures about their penis.  And finally, he has not really pressed me to hang out w him.  I have to admit - I'm wondering what me might be like in person.

 

Harley, on the other hand, is like the antithesis of CT.  He does not have mad skills w texting and he disappears frequently for several days at a time and hurt feelings do not lead to me laughing; yet my pants can't seem to fly off fast enough when Harley's around.  Yesterday eveing, after work, I am out shopping.  I have not heard from Harley since the beginning of last week.  My cell starts ringing and it's him.  Okay, I will give Harley his props - he's actually a damned good talker.    I realize from his comments that he must be able to see me, so I'm spinning around trying to spot him in the parking lot.  I know I am doing a really horrible job describing this.  I don't want to say too much.  Basically, he was off-duty and moonlighting as security for some property across the street.  He said he was taking a dinner break in a little while and asked me to keep him company.  I brought him a couple of bacon double cheeseburgers and he led us to a private outside table for a picnic of sorts.  It was beautiful there.  The table faced a small lake w a lighted fountain and it was completely enclosed by tall bushes.  I really could not hear the nearby traffic because of the fountain.  And it changed colors.  It was just a beautiful evening.  It should not surprise anyone then, that before Harley was done w his break, I was bent over the table, facing the fountain, pants around my ankles, while he rode me from behind.  I honestly could not have been happier. 

Randi's Christmas Tree

I do not have children of my own.  Lately, I have been having fun doing things w Randi and her chldren.  Yesterday, she and I planned to leave work early and do some Christmas shopping together.  Her big project, she said, was to get a Christmas tree and apparently she was all about having me as slave labor to help.  I did not care - it sounded like fun.  I've only ever had artificial trees, so going out to find a real tree was something new for me.  When we were done w our shopping, Randi surprised me by pulling into a store to check out their trees. I had thought she was planning to go home and collect her children first.  She laughed and said having the kids along was like trying to heard kittens and she did not need to be carrying a big ole tree at the same time.  (Note: Randi is fairly small, so any size tree is big to her).  She may have been worried that I was dissappointed so she quickly added, "not to worry, there will be plenty to do w the kids and decorating the tree later".  And so, sans children, me and Randi began the hunt for the perfect tree.

 

I said a moment ago that pretty much any size tree would be tall to Randi.  But Randi wanted to look at the trees that towered over her by another whole Randi.  And besides just being tall, do you know what else trees that big are - they're heavy!

 

Randi and I struggled to stand some trees up and spin them around looking for "bare spots" (again, I'm used to artificial).  I started looking for someone working there hoping to ask for help please.  Randi told me not to waste my time.  She said "help" would be looking for us soon enough.  "On a good day, I'm at least cute . . . . and you're fucking hot . . . finding men to help us won't be a problem".  We laughed and I kept looking for someone.  But she was right because, before we stopped laughing, someone appeared.

 

Tree Man looked to be marginally legal age w long dark hair, beat up ball cap turned backwards, tight blue jeans covered in tree sap, and gloves w the finger cut out. While he looked nothing like him, Tree Man reminded me of a young Brad Pitt.  Randi flirted w him mercilessly.  He was holding his own though and went right back at her.  I was pretty sure he knew it was all in fun though.  Randi did apologize for monopolizing his time and asked if he needed to help someone else for a while instead.  He smiled and said it was fine.  He pointed to some others helping him in the tent.  Then he whispered to us that longer we laughed and talked w him, the more of a God he was going to be when we left.  Randi apparently took that as a sign for her to elevate his status to legendary . . . and, of course, she made certain I was her partner in crime.  Again, it was really all mostly harmless and pretty tame.  Nothing was ever said or done that couldn't be seen on the Disney Channel.  He helped us pick out a tree and loaded it into our truck (Randi borrowed a truck from a friend for the day).  Randi made it a point to give him a full body hug in view of all his co-workers, then she slipped him a tip.  As we were pulling onto the highway, she said she included my phone number in w his tip

 

 I thought she was joking.  How could I be so nieve?

 

We got the tree to her place.  She said it probably needed to soak overnight in water before we decorated it and we made plans to do just that today.  I planned to go home and wrap gifts for a while, but probably really just veg in front of the tv.  Randi and I talked about maybe hooking up again later.  But first, she had to return the truck . . . and apparently she needed to 'pay' for having it for the day (I gather this was a long running joke between her and the boyfriend from whom she borrows the truck).

 

Driving home, I got a text . . . and not from Randi. 

Wishing



I can not scream loud enough how much I wish this was me right now.  

Conflicted

I slept w Harley and the Boyfriend yesterday (yes, the same day and, obviously, we didn't actually 'sleep').  I went to bed for the night the happiest I have been in a long time.  Today, I am wracked w guilt and wondering if I am a bad person.

The Boyfriend Is Sick

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Sex Daydreams

Does your mind wander during sex?  I do not mean noticing that the ceiling maybe needs painting.  I mean do you sometimes think about  a former lover?  It is not really a question I can ask my girlfriends.  And I suspect they would not be all that truthful - there are the things you admit to others and there are things you admit only to yourself.  I don't know, maybe I am just overthinking again.  My mind wanders, that I know.  Not all the time, not even most of the time, just sometimes.  It's hard to say when exactly it occurs.  I guess when I am not as into the moment as my lover  or, if I was to really be honest here, sometimes when he is trying to please me orally (and I drift to past encounters to maybe enhance the moment as well).

When my mind wanders (daydreams), a moment I find myself remembering a lot is of a time w Wide Load. 

 

I had gone to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  He was out onto the balcony drinking beer.  I was bent over the sink brushing my teeth when I saw him looking at me from the doorway.  I often keep the bathroom door open, but generally no one is watching me from the hallway.  He lowered his pants a bit for me to understand. 

 

I really do need to learn NOT to be a smart-ass.

 

I kept on brushing my teeth, but stuck my ass out and spread my legs for him.  Now, I really was just joking.  I mean give a girl a chance to finish brushing her teeth.  But, to his defense, I guess I did give him the go-ahead.  A moment later, he was standing behind me, knocking at my entrance.  Geez, I was still brushing my teeth!

 

Okay, I can sound like I'm protesting.  Truth is, I was incredibly turned on.  Thus the reason I wander to that moment (among others).  I loved it that he needed me so badly right then.  I loved being made (even if I did give him the go ahead) to take care of him.  I loved him being forceful.  Weird it may be, but I loved it and I still think about that moment a lot.

And maybe I am the only one, but I do remember it, and other special moments, sometimes when I am making love. 


 

 



Therapy Sucks

Therapy sucks!

 

No, Therapist was great as he always is.  I just did not enjoy the direction the discussion took.

 

Therapist was asking recently how I got engaged.  There were emails asking me to finish w more details of the Boyfriend's birthday trip.  But the Therapist was also asking - not about the gift (sex) - about how my engagement came about.  It turned into an unpleasant conversation.

 

The trip, I thought, went pretty well overall.  Since I started writing this blog, I have recieved dozens of emails telling me what a wonderful person the Boyfriend is and what a terrible person I am.  Opinions I tend to agree with.  It sucks to believe that secretly.  It was just painful to admit it out loud to the Therapist.  Not missing a beat, he point out that it should have gone pretty well since I was the one putting in almost all the effort. He added that is why it did not suprise him at all that I was the one who proposed. And apparently this is the reason he pushed me to tell the story.

 

Therapist did not stop there.  He started asking about many of my relationships.  I would describe a boyfriend.  He would get me to just talking - pleased that we on a different subject - then he barrages me w how I was the one doing w almost every boyfriend all the relationship work.  Not done, he brought up Mom.  I tried to argue w him.  It was hard. A lot, not all, of my best times w Mom were when I arranged everything. 

 

Therapist said something that stuck w me.  He said that every family has fun at Disney World.  Disney designed it that way.  Disney does all the work.   



The Boyfriends Birthday Presents IV

Two Corona's and a shot of tequila (always a must whenever I drink Corona) meant I was feeling pretty loose during dinner. I delighted in slutting it up for him (see the picture he took of me). I'm pretty sure our waiter enjoyed it too because he was most attentive. I slipped a heel off and ran my foot along the Boyfriend's leg. A few times, I even felt up his crotch with my toes. He surprised me when he grabbed my foot and wouldn't let go. He started tickling me - I am crazy ticklish - till I begged him to stop. We had a nice time. And maybe that is why he was rock solid again by the time we were leaving the restaurant. Driving back to the hotel, I started to tease him with a little road head, but mostly I just kept him nice and warm between my lips. I think he drove around the block a few times to make the trip longer. I took that as a compliment. Once in the room, Boyfriend led me out to the balcony. He knows how much I love balcony sex overlooking the ocean. He lifted my skirt up and slid inside of me once again, just like I was made for him. Keeping my heels on maybe added to the visual, but it also kept me at the right height for him. And I will admit it, I let him do all the work this time. I just stood there, leaning over the rail, enjoying the Boyfriend inside of me, feeling the night ocean breeze on my face and in my hair, listening to the roar of the ocean waves, and delighting in the star filled night sky,

 

When the Boyfriend finished inside of me, I simply had to go for a walk on the beach. I know he just wanted to sit down (the poor dear had been hammering me for a long time), but I pouted till he agreed to come with me. Mostly, we just walked. It was late and the beach was deserted. Also, it was turtle season, which means there is a lights out ordinance all along the beach. Basically, when there is no moon, it is pitch black out there and no one can really see you until they are right on top of you. Several times we stopped and watched the ocean. He'd stand behind me with his arms wrapped around me, and often he would kiss me along my neck. It may have been the happiest and most relaxed I had felt in a long long time. A few times, he gently cupped my breasts while he nuzzled my neck. He slipped a hand beneath my blouse, then under my bra. His hand felt good on my breast, holding me, squeezing me. Then he slipped his other hand beneath my bra and now both breasts were his. In time, he slid one hand down under my skirt. He caressed the outside of my warmth, and even there he could tell, he had me dripping wet. He dipped a finger into my moisture, then brought it up to taste. He did it again and brought it up for me to taste. I delighted in sucking my juices from his finger. I loved pleasing him and I knew he loved this. He repeated his actions, always keeping his hand just a bit longer each time under my skirt. Finally, he kept his hand there, moving it just right, while he continued to kiss my neck, and he held my breast in his hand. I felt like my body was his captive. It was perfect. And when I came, I did something I rarely do, I came again and again.

  

I turn around and kiss him. Then I go down to my knees. Work like that should be rewarded, right!!!! He joked asking if I getting ready to propose (I mention this because I think it had a lot to do with what followed later).  I joked back "I could, but I was thinking you might enjoy me sucking your dick more". In hindsight, I am not sure what the Hell I was thinking, or if I was even thinking. I felt good. I wanted him to feel good. He hardened in my mouth, but I realized it was going to be a while before he could cum again. Still, I kept on because I really believe he enjoyed me giving him head there on the beach.

 

Walking back to the room, still on the beach, I asked him how he wanted to finish inside of me. I offered to keep sucking him if that's what he wanted, but I was afraid his stamina this time would exceed my oral endurance. The way he kind of laughed makes me think he wanted me to keep giving him head, but instead he said that he understood I was tired and he did not want to hurt me. I joked that sometimes I liked his hurting me. I kept on that it was his birthday and he was not going to bed with an erection. He laughed saying that was what he loved about me (yep, he said the "love" word). He loved that I was always there for him . . . and added that he did not just mean sexually. I said the same about him; also adding that this trip was as much a thank you for how considerate he had been with my parents craziness as it was his birthday.  It is hard to explain, almost a full year later, exactly what I was feeling in that moment.   It had been an incredible day.  The beach, the alcohol, the sex, all had lowered my normal defenses and inhibitions.  And so I said it, "why don't we get married".  Yes, I was the one who proposed.

 

The remainder of the night had me on my back, legs over the Boyfriend's shoulders, and him fucking away in me until what must have been dawn. I was a very tired engaged girl when I finally rolled over to sleep.

The Boyfriend's Birthday Presents III

Tonight, responding to past requests, I will try to detail the remainder of the Boyfriend's Birthday Trip, taking it from his birthday blowjob to where we became engaged.

 

So, curled up naked next to him, the taste of his cum still in my mouth, I lay with my head resting on his chest. This was the part of the trip I dreaded the most. The Boyfriend was famous for going weeks without wanting to have sex with me. The perfect way to make a girl feel wanted - NOT. Now that the Boyfriend had came, I could easily imagine him going the rest of his 'sexcape' without touching me again. I had shared my fears with my friend Randi when the Boyfriend first starting asking about a trip. She gave the usual responses, everything from taking lots of lingerie to dressing slutty, but all essentially placing the responsibility on me to always initiate. I just did not want to spend the entire weekend begging the Boyfriend, "play with me". A few days later, Randi came into my office wearing a wicked grin. She then set two little blue pills (Viagra) on my desk, "that should take care of at least two nights of fun". Randi and mine's original plan had been to give the Boyfriend his extra gift over dinner. I don't know why I wanted to do it then instead; maybe laying there naked with the taste of his cum still in my mouth, I felt more intimate.

 

Jumping up, I grabbed all his gifts. I got him a watch and a protective case he had been wanting for his phone. Getting back onto the bed, sitting on my knees and ankles, I handed him his gifts. I set the smallest box to the side, making sure it would be opened last.

 

It was only then that something occurred to me for the very first time - he might get not take this the way I meant it. Maybe everyone else thought that a long time ago, but it had only just occurred to me. And I nearly ripped the box away from him, but it was too late, he had it opened. Fortunately for me, the Boyfriend appreciates my humor. "I'm going to need water" was all he said. And he was smiling. Whew!

 

We decided to go to dinner. I took a shower and put my face back on. He was still in bed channel surfing with the remote. We were talking about nothing much, okay, I was talking about nothing much and he was saying "uh huh" a lot. Basically, it was a normal conversation. I was trying to slut it up for him, so I put on a pair of heels, tight low cut blouse, and a way too short denim skirt. Finished, I asked him how I looked. Of course, he still had not yet moved. And then I noticed - he had a rock solid hard on.

 

"Aw, want me to help take care of that", I said giving him a kiss.  I lifted up my skirt, straddled him (I was already not wearing panties), and slid him home. I always love that first moment when my lover slips fully inside of me. I remember our taking it slow that time. We talked about nothing much in particular. I love this sometimes as well, when my lover is buried deep inside of me and we're just having a normal conversation. Now that I think about it, remembering that I was talking so much while getting dressed, it may have been part of the relaxed mood I was in too. As his moment approached, the conversation became more one sided w me telling him how much I want him to finish inside of me, that I want to go to dinner w his cum still in me, that I won't wear any panties because I want him to drip out of me while we sit in the booth. All in all, the trip was off to a great start, I thought.

 
I am sorry.  I thought I would finish it.  Well, I did finish it, but it's way too long for one post.  I did not mean to ramble on in some places and I actually did skip a lot, but there is nothing I really want to cut out.  Not just yet, maybe later, I will shorten them down into one post.   

Mental Head Slap

Watching Monday Night Football, I wrote the conclusion to the Boyfriend's birthday trip.  Then, tragedy struck.  All my work disappeared.  WTF?!?!  "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO".  And, of course, I had not saved it once.  Everything gone.  This is me banging my head on the desk.  Stupid stupid me.  How many times have I had that happen and sworn that I would save more often in the future.  Ugh.  I will try to re-create it soon.  I am going to bed now.

Mom, Harley, and Me

Mom loved the Boyfriend.

 

She hated Harley.

 

Okay, maybe I am exaggerating - but probably not by much. I guess it is fair to say she strongly disliked him. Why? You tell me because I never did understand.  Harley was that guy that everyone seemed to know and everyone just liked.  I have actually never met anyone who disliked hiim.  He is a deputy and I have actually seen people he has arrested come up to shake his hand and apoligize for being a jerk at the time.  Harley, being the kind of man he was, accepted her attitude in stride.  It hurt his feelings.  He just never let it be a problem for us.  He came with me often whenever I went to visit.  He remained polite and always tried to talk to both Mom and Daddy. Daddy, I think because I never asked, seemed to like Harley a lot. Mom clearly didn't.

 

The day Harley broke it off with me was, until the day Mom died, the single worst day of my life.  I hurt like hell.  Mom was not all that helpful because she was too busy being happy.  I don't know that I ever stopped being angry at her for that.  

Dinner and a Blowjob

I went to the Boyfriend's for dinner tonight.  Nothing happened.

 

Hmm, I should probably explain a few things first. I have already said, albeit briefly, that the Boyfriend and I do not live together now. What happened? During the Boyfriend's much belated birthday trip, which I had started posting about before I pulled a disappearing act, we got engaged. I promise to return to "The Boyfriend's Birthday Presents" saga to explain it all. It was nice being engaged. Mom liked the Boyfriend. To be honest, it seems like marrying the Boyfriend was one of the very few things in my life about which she never said a negative word. She was enjoying planning the wedding with me even. Looking back, it was maybe our closest mother-daughter experience. She called every day with some new idea she wanted to run past me for the wedding. It was fun planning with her. The day we buried her was supposed to be the day she and I went looking at wedding dresses. Planning for the wedding just stopped for me.  I became increasingly despondent. In time, it reached the point where I just struggled to get through each day. I had no energy.  I looked forward to going back to bed to hide from the world. It was sometime long after this I moved out of the Boyfriends and back in with Daddy. I told both of them I just needed some space for now. The wedding is cancelled, though I am not sure if we are still engaged or not. It's all very confusing. I made love to him the night I moved out. I go over for dinner two to three times a week. And we still sleep together. If I thought our relationship was confusing before, it is even more confusing now. 

 

 

It feels like nothing ever does happen unless I initiate. I say that and then the Boyfriend surprises me. The morning I all but raped the Boyfriend, I went back over that night for dinner. It was pleasant. It was also awkward. I think awkward because the Boyfriend so seldom initiates that he is really not very good at it. It could also be that he does not initiate more because he is so bad at it. He even looks uncomfortable. And realize that he is this bad with me - a guaranteed "yes" for him. It had been a long day. I was looking forward to just going home. And the Boyfriend was awkwardly uncomfortably struggling to initiate.

 

I thought about pretending not to notice his horribly thrown passes. But I felt bad about doing that too. The Boyfriend deserves a better girlfriend. He took the dishes from the table to the kitchen. Yes ladies, he does the cooking and he cleans up afterwards!!! In the kitchen, he tried to keep the conversation light and flirty. It was not that I was unwilling to have sex with him. It was that I did not want to be there late. Certainly if I still lived there, then I would have gladly laid back on the bed naked and waited for him. Staying there late was not what I wanted. I followed him into the kitchen. He did not catch the hint to kiss me, so I pulled his arms around me instead. I teased how sexy he looked in the kitchen. We kissed a bit more. I suspected he was starting to think about how to move things into the bedroom. (This is the part I feel bad about). When he started to walk, while still hugging me, towards the bedroom, I stopped him. I teased again that I wanted to repay him for dinner and being the best Boyfriend ever. I could see his confusion since we were not walking towards the bedroom. Kissing him again, keeping my eyes locked onto his, I lowered myself to my knees. I think he was getting the idea of what to expect. He actually started to protest. He wanted me to feel good too. How sweet! I smiled telling him that I did feel good taking care of him and that this is exactly what I wanted. At that point, I took his freed dick into my hand and guided him into my mouth. This was not intended to be a slow gentle blowjob. I begin bobbing and sucking hard immediately. When he was rock hard in my mouth, I took his hands and placed them onto my head, then guided his hips to start thrusting into my mouth. The way he gripped my hair and head, I could not really see his face any longer. I had no intention of stopping him, so I went with it. I could hear him and he definitely seemed to be enjoying himself. I have noticed that sometimes humming just a little bit drives some men crazy when I am blowing them. The Boyfriend certainly appreciated the humming. Sometimes he would just thrust deep between my lips, then hold me there tight. I think he was trying to catch his breath more than anything else.  With a little encouragement from me, he would resume face fucking me. I did need to see his face at least once more and stopped him long enough for me to connect my eyes with his. I kept his dick in my mouth the entire time. I tried to smile with him still between my lips. I think he noticed. He looked so very happy.  I resumed bobbing and soon he resumed thrusting. Before too long, I was rewarded with a salty taste of pre-cum. Time to get even more ferocious with the face fuck. I could tell my his noises that I should be expecting a mouthful soon. I was not surprised when the first of several bursts exploded into my mouth. I swallowed quickly to avoid drops on my blouse. When he was done cumming, he held my head still tight with him deep inside of my smile. And I was smiling too. I let him hold me there for a bit while I cleaned him with my tongue. When he let go of my head, I kept him deep in my mouth just a bit longer to let him know I enjoyed this.  We kissed then and I went home.

I genuinely enjoyed making the Boyfriend feel good. I do care about him even if he does drive me crazy most days and even if I do not want to live with him right now.  But I have wondered some if giving him a blowjob was the right thing to do. I don't know.  I think sometimes I think too much.  

 



I Woke Up Horny!!!

I woke up feeling incredibly and undeniably horny.

 

 

It has been so long since I felt horny that I nearly did not recognize it for what it was. I can see me now, "Doctor, something is wrong". "What are your symptoms Rache". "My face is flushed, I am wet between my legs, and I have these strange feelings". I can imagine his face as he says, "umm, Rachel, that's what we doctors call feeling horny".  Now, saying that I have not felt any urges in a long time is not saying I have not had sex or that I have not wanted to have sex. I have taken good care of my boys and I look forward most times to taking care of them. When I went off with Harley, I was excited to be with him and I genuinely looked forward to giving him pleasure. But wanting to make someone else feel good is a far cry from needing to be filled yourself.  I lay there enjoying the feeling as much as anything. I had woken up horny!

 

I texted Harley. No response.

 

I lay there for a bit, then sucked it up and got started getting ready for the day. I thought about the Boyfriend (we do not currently live together), but tried to be sensible. The morning was getting late, I needed to be at work, he would probably be too busy and tell me to come over later . . . all rational thoughts . . . and I pondered each one as I walked back to the bedroom to get my phone. Still thinking how incredibly stupid it was to call the Boyfriend - he is just going to say "not now Rachel" - I proceeded to call the Boyfriend.

 

A sleepy voice grunts, "g'morning".

 

"Are you still in bed?" I took his grunt to mean "yes". "Good," I said to him, "stay there, I will be there in a few".

 

Hurriedly, I grabbed an outfit, slipped a robe over the t-shirt I was wearing, then raced out the door.  I let myself in and left everything by the door.  Slipping out of the robe, t-shirt, and panties, I ran into the bedroom naked, wet, and ready to fuck. Boyfriend  never had it so good.

 

I am tempted to stop at this point, but also know that the more voyueristic men in the group will be immediately emailing me  for more details. :) 

 

A moment later, I was astride the Boyfriend  . . . even better, he was inside of me.  It was like the whole morning had been about just feeling him inside of me. Now that he was in me, I just wanted to enoy it for a while. I leaned forward and kissed him for a while. Still kissing, I began to move on top of him, slipping along his length. I began to feel a tingling sensation between my legs.  I had not anticipated for a moment that I might also climax this morning. I was content merely to enjoy the feeling of him inside of me. I began to move faster and just grind into him. And then I came. I love to cum first. I know, I know, it is romantic to cum at the same time. I love to cum first because, I don't know, I guess because I want my lover in me and on me all the more after I cum. After I came, I rolled for the Boyfriend to get on top of me. I love having my lover on me. I wrapped my legs around the Boyfrend and enjoyed the sensation of him thoroughly enjoying himself in me.



Mom

I wrote this post several weeks ago. 

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Mom died.

 

She died last year, August 24th to be exact. And I suppose it was probably one of the main reasons I stopped posting. I did not post about it then because . . . well . . . I do not really know. I guess I simply did not want it a part of my blog. I did not want to talk about it. To tell you the truth, I really still do not want to talk about it. 

 

I was at the office. I was on another call when Randi, our receptionist, came into my office. She said I had another call. She said it sounded urgent. She said it was Daddy. She said he was crying. He always gets up first. When Mom was way past her usual time of getting up, he went to check on her. She had died in her sleep.

 

When the dust finally settled, I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was getting back to a normal life. I thought I was moving on. I thought wrong. At first, I was focused upon Daddy and how he was doing. I guess that was my way of ignoring how badly I was doing.

 

It is not like Mom and I were particularly close. Honestly, most days I thought - and still think - that I was a colossal disappointment to her. No matter what I accomplished, she always found a way to tell me I could have done better. She found fault with all my boyfriends, except for The Boyfriend - him she liked. In some ways, I guess they were a lot alike. Therapist suggested that to me. Guess that explains why I sometimes wanted to strangle her and other times wanted to curl up beside her. In short, we were not close.

 

But life just really began to unravel after she died.