Wednesday, August 28, 2013

The Friend Zone

The Marine had to cancel our dinner plans.  His wife was sick and he didn't think it a good idea to leave her alone.  I couldn't really complain even if I was disappointed.  I pretended to pout.  He promised to make it up when I returned.

My previous post on the Marine was no tease.  I really don't know when we get together how the night will end.  I think the night would have ended happy; just not sure if it would have had a "happy ending".
Advizor made a comment, "God help him if he is" in the "friend zone" which got me to thinking.  If I didn't know how the night was going to end w the Marine, then did that mean the Marine was NOT in the "friend zone".  More to the point, do I never think about sex w any of my guy pals?
I remember a date who, when we were having dinner, I called him "nice".  I laughingly remember the pained look on his face, "don't call me that . . . it's the kiss of death".  He explained that girls didn't like the "nice" guy.  I disagreed and added something his being nice and a good friend.  You would have thought I'd kicked him in the nuts, "Oh great, might as well kill myself now . . . I've entered the friend zone" (thinking back on his pained expression, I probably shouldn't have laughed, huh).  I know some will wonder, he copped a pretty good feel that evening; strictly upstairs.  He never did get laid, but I will say that was more for his fault for want of taking the risk.  So, was he a friend?  Looking back, I'd say he was a date at that time.
When I go out w the Marine.  Its not like I'm planning on sex or even really thinking about sex.  But, if asked, then I would have to say the possibility exists.  And I like that feeling.  Is the Marine a friend then?  We're friendly.  I'm close to him.  I think of him as more than a friend.
The question remains then, is the "friend zone" the dead zone?  I want to say "no".  I think most women would want to say "no".  We like to say our lovers are our best friends.  Wouldn't it seem that becoming friends, then move you one step closer to a relationship.  So, why then do most men dread entering the "friend zone".  Men have their viewpoint.  Women have theirs.  I don't know that either is necessarily wrong.  This is where I know what is in my head, but the blonde in me is preventing me from putting it into words.  When I go somewhere w a man who is not in the "friend zone", its not like I am thinking about sex.  But I am not-not thinking about it either.  It might be easier to explain in terms of how I dress.  When going out w a man not in the "friend zone", then I am more likely to dress like I'm going on a date.  I may just be casual, I may be sexy, but on some level I have considered how I want to dress for what might happen later.  When I go out w a man who is in the "friend zone", then I am not even considering the "what might happen later" aspect of the night.
I like getting dressed for the Marine and wondering "what might happen later".

Friday, August 23, 2013

Advizor's FFF


"Leave a message."
"Yes, Old One", at that, Tobias turned to leave; his number two walking by his side.
"And Tobias", he added, "be creative".
"Be creative", his number two questioned?
"Meaning without bloodshed".
"And just how are you supposed to 'leave a message' for the rival gangs that this city belongs to the Pact without violence . . . with your good looks".
Tobias turned smiling, "no, not w MY good looks . . . Mr. Fong is into us heavy . . . I believe his daughter is a senior at State . . . tell him we have a painless way he can repay all his debts to the Pact".
A short time later, Cindy Fong found herself bound in the middle of the street.  Naked.  Helpless.  Unable to prevent anyone from doing anything they wanted to her.  She was supposed to meeting her boyfriend for their six month anniversary.  She thought to surprise him w a blowjob before they went out to dinner.  But a man called using her father's cell phone.  Her father was in trouble and needed her to come to him right away.  She rushed to his restaurant.  A man grabbed her when she entered, another sat beside her father at a table.
"Miss, you have an opportunity to help your father.  And, aside from a little embarrassment, you will not be harmed".
"Now STRIP", he commanded.
As dawn approached, his second turned to Tobias.  "The message - that the Pact is so feared we can place a woman naked on the street and know she will not be touched until we return for her?"
Tobias smiled adding, "the Old One has struggled hard to teach me that real communication can only be had BEFORE violence".
"And after . . . ?"
"And AFTER violence, then there can only be more violence".

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Marine

I decided today what days next week I'm going to Tampa for an overnight business trip.  I texted a gentleman friend from that area and now I have a dinner date.  He needs a name - I think I will call him the Marine because he served twenty years in the Marines.  He's also a retired professional (I'm not going to say what profession), meaning that he has retired twice in his life..  I can already see Advizor doing the math, so yes Marine is quite a bit older than me.  The Marine is a little more than twice my age.
I met him through Ashley Madison.  Like many, I started an Ashley Madison account a long time ago.  Stop - don't be rushing over to try to find it.  My profile is down right now, it's down more often than it's up, and it may never be up again.  When I do make my account active, then my inbox is usually flooded w messages in just a few hours.  Seriously guys, do sending dick shots really work for you.  Once I delete all the dick shots, assholes, and whiners, I am generally left w just a few messages.  The Marine was more an accident than anything else.  His message made me smile (if you recall, I have said repeatedly this is the best way to get me separated from my pants) and I responded.  What I didn't notice was his age.  My fault entirely because he clearly stated it in his profile page.  He pointed it out again in a message, but by this time we were emailing and I didn't see any reason why age should matter w our just emailing.   His emails were funny and helped me through the days.  I also liked the way he could be sexually suggestive w/o being crude or disrespectful.  In a lot of ways, he reminded me of Harley.
We've met for dinner and drinks three times now over the past several months.  And it has been just dinner and drinks.  The first time, I didn't know what to expect.  We'd been emailing for several weeks.  Our emails are mostly friendly w just a flavor of flirting.  I told him I was coming to Tampa for a business trip.  He asked me to dinner, making it clear that he only meant dinner and was not coming onto me.  He also teased that if I came onto him, then he might not be able to fight me off.  He took me to Shula's.  Daddy would have been so jealous.  Daddy is a big Dolphins fan and idolizes Don Shula.  He's talked about going to Shula's whenever we're around one, but something always seems to get in the way.  Really, I'd be just as happy going to Denny's.  I'm more about who I'm with and The Marine is a great dinner companion.  I love listening to his stories.  Some are sad.  Some are funny.  He's had a long interesting life and he apparently loves to talk.  I like listening to him. 
And I'm talking about him why?  I don't know actually.  I find him interesting.  And we're going to dinner again next week.  And I never formally ruled out actually sleeping w him.  Its been something we've not discussed that much.  We've talked a lot about ourselves.  He's been open about the women he has seen.  I'm clearly the youngest.  I think he likes being seen w me; at least I hope he does!!  I like the companionship when I am in that area.  It makes a long dull trip something to look forward too.  Did I mention that he's 6'7".  I've told him a lot about me.  He knew about Tree.  We didn't meet for dinner during the brief window I thought things were possibly getting serious w Tree.  But we still talked.  He was sad to learn of my breaking up w Tree.  He's been like a mentor of sorts.  

Friday, August 16, 2013


His dick slid into her as easily as her teeth bit into hot flesh. 
It was her obligation to service him.  He was the pack leader.  Tobias, her mate, sat watching.  Her eyes were closed.  She could not see Tobias next to them, but she could smell him.  Tobias was the next most dominant male in the pack.  He had sensed it was his time to lead.  He had challenged the Old One . . . and lost.  By rights, the Old One should have killed Tobias.  Instead, the Old One had demanded she impale herself on his dick.  The Old One took her hips in his vice-like grip and thrust her body up and down along his length.
The three of them were dressed - well, she had been dressed - for a pack dinner.  She knew that all would be able to smell the Old One's scent on her . . . in her . . . and know she had been made to service him. 

"Tobias", the Old One said, "join me inside your bitch."  Tobias entered her ass.  Everyone would be able to smell the packs two most dominant werewolves in her tonight.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

I Think Its What A Girlfriend Does

The girls were talking about sex the other day and I was surprised to learn how some could take it or leave it.  Most seemed to think twice a week was enough.  They joked about how their men took long showers sometimes and were 'probably' taking care of things themselves in the shower.  One described her husband masturbating on the bed beside her.  I didn't get it.

I realize that not everyone has the same sex drive that I have.  But even so, I have been asked for sex when I was not really feeling it.  I would feel sad if my lover was taking care of himself when I was lying there in the bed waiting and willing.  The Boyfriend may be a bad example because his idea of frequent sex was twice a month (if it was a good month) and I was far more likely to be pestering him.  Harley, however, was a beast.  There were times, not many I grant you, that Harley began making moves on me when I really wasn't feeling it.  I never doubted for a moment that I could have said "no" and there was never any pressure on me to perform.  But I wanted too.  He needed me to do that for him.  I don't know any other way to say it except that I think its what a girlfriend does.

Now, I will quietly admit that I have sometimes wished for Harley, and sometimes the Boyfriend, to hurry up and finish.  The Boyfriend was probably the worst.  Most often, the Boyfriend would last five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes inside of me (not that I ever actually timed it, okay).  But sometimes, he would get these 'diamond-cutters' that just simply would not bust.  Oh My God!  It sounds like a lot more fun than it is, especially if you're the poor girl taking it, and taking it, and taking it.  I tease.  It was fun.  But sometimes, I'd be exhausted, my legs would be sore, I would be drenched in sweat, and he'd be dripping sweat all over me . . . did I mention that my legs were sore.  And he'd still be going strong.  I think the longest was a couple of hours, but usually I think it was around an hour.  Harley was more consistent; generally about a half hour I think.  But sometimes, he could not finish either.  I think it was more frustrating for them actually.  They wanted to finish but couldn't. I'm saying to them, "cum in me lover".  I'm saying to myself, "finish already". 

Some of my favorite memories though stem from these times.  I could always tell when the Boyfriend was getting close to finishing.  Harley was a little bit the same.  Their breathing would become deeper and their thrusting more steady.  Harley also grunted more when he was getting close.  It was kind of cute actually.  I always liked, during a marathon fuck, when I could sense them getting close to cumming.  I loved those moments the best because I think they needed to finish inside of me perhaps more than ever.

Okay, Mr. Murphy is waiting.  Its time for me to go mow the lawn.

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Me and Mr. Murphy

My job, since Daddy's accident has been to mow the lawn.  It sucks to not have a brother!!!  It's been a few years, Daddy has actually done great w rehab, and could taken the job back himself.  I talked w him about it cause I had heard some men take it personally when they can't mow their lawns.  He said that started mowing his parent's lawn at six and that he was okay w me doing it.  Then he said, under his breath and maybe thinking I couldn't hear him, "and the guys would be pissed if I took over from you".  I thought he meant the neighbors were worried about him over-doing it, so I said something about how sweet they were.  He just smiled back at me and walked away.  It hit me later - I'm slow sometimes - I realized he meant our male neighbors.  I had never thought about it until then, but I mow the lawn in daisy duke shorts and a bikini top.  Hey, its gonna take a hour or more, I might as well get some sun!!!  I never for a second thought about Mr. Murphy watching me.   Mr. Murphy sits on his front porch every Sunday morning to read his paper. 
And all of this is a bunch of words to avoid ranting because it's fucking raining again.  I would have kept on mowing, but its coming down in sheets.  We are talking a white out!!!!  Damn, the Coast Guard might not fly in this.  I tease cause the Coast Guard will fly in any thing!!!  Anyway, I had planned to mow this morning.  I try to mow every Sunday morning.  Now I understand why Mr. Murphy is always sitting on his front porch every Sunday morning too.  But that's not going to happen.  Now I will need to do it after work during the week.  Dammit man!!!
But I can't really bitch and I'm sorry God.  We need the rain.  Daddy reminds me DAILY how it used to always rain every afternoon in Florida.  I've heard more than one person say, "you could set your watch by it".  Then it didn't rain for years, Daddy said.  So, let it rain, even if it is messing up me and Mr. Murphy's plans.

Saturday, August 3, 2013


Godiva pleaded w her father in his office not to lay anyone off in the store.  Times were hard and there were not jobs to be found.  He remained firm, yet she persisted.  Frustrated, he said, "you think so much of them.  I'll make you a deal.  Strip to your skivvies, then walk through the store.  See if your precious employees thank you for your sacrifice or stare at you".  Without hesitation, Godiva immediately began removing her clothing (silently, she was grateful she'd actually worn both bra and panties that day). 

She walked slowly and w pride down the aisle.  She refused to be embarrassed when so many would be keeping their jobs now.  However, news of her father's challenge ran in a sprint ahead of her.  She was surprised to find the store abandoned.  She beamed when she realized what the employees had done to protect her dignity.  She grinned when she thought about running back to stick her tongue out at her father.  Instead, she paraded to the front.

Tom, the lone security guard, watched her from the closed circuit cameras.