This Thanksgiving, I Want To Give Thanks . . .

. . . For every one of y'all.  I appreciate your support, encouragement, and friendship while I talk about the things that I really don't have anywhere else to talk about.

Dr Jekyl meet Mr Hyde meet Dr Jekyll

I had been working on a post describing KSD ("Kinda/Sorta Date") as a veritable Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  I was initially intending that description as a good thing meaning he was a real beast in the bedroom.  What I posted about on the beach was just a warm up to what he offered in the bedroom.  The problem was that I found myself complaining about his ultra-timid behaviors outside of the bedroom.  I figured I was just being an ungrateful bitch.

The Dr. Jekyll side was sweet and polite; polite almost to the point of being annoying.  I realize I sound like an annoying bitch who wanted it all.  It was sweet that he was considerate to what I wanted, but sometimes - just like in the bedroom - stop thinking about what I want and tell me what you want . . . better yet, just do what you want.  I will tell you if there is a problem.  The Mr. Hyde side had done unspeakable things to me (not really, poetic license cause it just sounded better . . . smiling), so you'd think asking me to dinner would not be that much of a challenge.  And it was not like he actually asked when he did ask; it was more like he hinted.  Was I busy?  What was I doing tonight?  Did I have any big plans for the weekend?  Hinting until I eventually asked him.

Lately, I'm starting to think that his Dr. Jekyll is not nearly as sweet and polite as I had thought.  Not that long ago, he did his usual hinting around, only that time I did not make the first move myself.  I truly was not being passive-aggressive, I was tired and wanted to stay home that night,  I up-front told him that was what I had planned.  He called and texted me several times that night.  Okay, I didn't really think anything of it other than I was annoyed because I just wanted to watch a movie uninterrupted and crash early.    We went out the next night and all was good.  A few nights, I've noticed, that when I am slow to respond back to his texts, he blows my phone up until I do respond.  I told myself that I was being paranoid because I was in an abusive relationship.  I tried talking to him.  I thought it went pretty well.  I thought we made a connection.  It felt good.  This past Friday night, when he did his usual hinting around, I told him that it was "Girl's Night Out", but told him I'd love to see him Saturday night.  I was having a great night.  Not doing anything that would cause any jealousy - not that KSD and I were in an exclusive relationship yet.  We had this great talk, I thought we were in a good place together, so you can imagine my surprise to see him tucked away in the back of the bar.  I was shocked, but mostly I was pissed.  I texted him that I saw him and that I did not appreciate his checking up on me.  KSD rushed over to talk w me, falling all over himself to apologize.  I'm actually pretty forgiving, so it maybe would have gone well from there if he had just left when I said I didn't want to talk right then.  But he wouldn't - he wouldn't stop until I talked to him.  The bartender sensed I was having a problem, so she had Security come over (it pains me to admit that I know everyone down there, including the bouncers and all the bartenders).  He left at that point.  I pussed out the next day and just texted that I didn't feel well.  He started blowing up my phone again . . . until I finally texted (again, the coward's way out) that I thought it best we take some time apart. 


Are Blowjobs More Intimate Than Sex?

A funny video (made laugh so hard I nearly wet my pants).

 

Why Blowjobs Are More Intimate Than Sex

 

I may be in the minority, but I also happen to agree w it.  Laughing.



He Scores!!!

It's about time I finished my last post on my date w KSD ("Kinda/Sorta Date").  By the time the game ended last week, I was excited and fed and pleasantly buzzed.  Sticking w the football analogy, there was nothing between KSD and the end zone.  To steal a quote from ESPN, "he could go all the way".

 

"You in a hurry to get back," he asked holding my hand walking to his car.

 

"Whacha got in mind," I teased him.

 

"I was thinking we could take a drive to the beach, maybe take a walk".

 

Romantic.  Nice move.  "Makes for a long drive back late at night", I said.

 

"We don't necessarily have to drive back tonight," he said w just enough of a joking tone to see which way I would take it - as a joke or serious.

 

"I got nowhere to be tomorrow". 

 

I loved the smile that lit up his face then.  He all but ran to the car pulling me along w him.

 

Now that we had established, in a manner of speaking, that we were going to do this, he was fair game for me to tease w/o mercy.  "It will be dark on the beach (mandatory lights out along the beach so as to not confuse the sea turtles), I would be tempted to strip down to my panties and bra to jump in the ocean . . . but I'm not wearing any".

 

It was a fun drive to the beach and time just flew by.  He checked us into a nice hotel.  I expected him to lead me straight to the room figuring that 'take a walk along the beach' was a ruse for let's get a room and fuck.  I was pleasantly surprised when, instead of leading me to the room, he led me through the hotel towards the beach.

 

He slipped out of his shoes and rolled up his pant legs.  I slipped out of my heels and thankfully I was wearing a skirt.  Holding hands, we then walked along the waters edge.  It was October, so there was a chill to the water.  "the cold water is making my nips hard", I laughed towards him (I'm pretty sure they were already diamond hard). 

 

"Maybe I can warm them up," he joked back.  He pulled me into his arms and kissed me.  It occurred to me that was our first kiss for the evening, not counting a few pecks on the cheek like you'd give your mother.  We walked a few steps and he pulled me in for another kiss.  They were good kisses, not great; firm, no hesitation, just not especially memorable.  He must have been thinking too far ahead of himself, because he made up for the routine kisses w his next move.  He spun me around to face the ocean, then he began to nuzzle the back of my neck. 

 

I got goose bumps and I'm positive he made my nips even harder. 

And then his hands started to explore . . . explore me.  Still kissing my neck, both his hands took hold of my breasts.  It was a firm grip; squeezing w/o causing any pain.  He was lifting them.  It's a silly quirk of mine.  I like the ladies to be lifted up, not pulled down or out.  A hand found its way to the inside of my blouse.  I had lied earlier - I was wearing a bra.  The bra did not deter him for even a second.  His one hand slid under my bra, the other continued to firmly hold me outside my blouse.  His hand was warm against the coolness of my breast. 

"You're being bad", I moaned hoping he would be even more bad.  "You have me soaking wet," I added.  Whether he got the hint or decided himself to try pushing the boundaries, I don't know.  I do know that he was doing felt good.  His free hand, the one not under my bra, slid south.  He pulled my skirt up, not that it was all that long anyway, to where he could finally touch my wetness (on this part I had been honest - I was not wearing panties).  He slipped his finger into my valley.  Coating his finger w my juices, he brought it up to my lips - for me to taste me on his fingers.  I can't speak for all women, but I love it when a man does that.  I love tasting me on then.  I took care of the juices on his finger, giving him a hint of what he might expect from me later (smiling).  He returned his hand to my sheath while he continued to kiss my neck and shoulders and continued to squeeze my breast.  Two of the fingers on my breast had taken my nipple between them and were squeezing extra hard.  Maybe because of the way I moaned, he soon focused upon kneading my breast and twisting my nip.  It does not happen often, but if the situation is just right, I am one of those women who can orgasm by having my nipples squeezed.  Between what he was doing between my legs and under my bra, I could feel an orgasm coming.  I didn't care where we were standing then.  I wanted him to finish me.  And he did.  When I came, I first reached up and pulled the hair on his head (another hint?).  And then I took hold of each of his hands, holding them where they had performed magic w my body.  I finally turned and said, "I need you back in the room now". 



Florida-Georgia Game

It has been a rough year for the Gator Nation.

 

I had an opportunity to tailgate in style to the world's largest outdoor cocktail party.  Tailgate in style, in this instance, meant traveling in a convoy of RV's (most worth more than my parents home), each w a wide-screen tv (the smallest being 55"), w all the wings and beer I could this girl could want.  It was tempting.  Instead, I chose to stick w my original plans of going to Buffalo Wild Wings on a real date w my man from my "Kinda/Sorta Date" (Kinda/Sorta Date). 

Sitting at Buffalo Wild Wings now.

Game is at half-time.  And it's been an AWESOME game.  GO GATORS!!!  Gators are up 14-7 right now!!! 

We have already killed a two pitchers of beer and just placed our order for wings.  Game is great.  Gators are playing great.  Wild Wings is great.  Our waitress is really great (she just winked at me . . . laughing . . . she did it to tease my date . . . bigger tip for her later, huh).  Smiling. 

Okay, gotta go, game is back on and our wings are coming out. 

Woo Hoo!!!  Gators just scored again to start the quarter!!!  21-7!!! 

My date just might have really good chance to score himself later!!!!

Bird-of-Paradise

I most definitely do not have a green thumb.  It's pretty much a guarantee that anything left under my care will die a slow horrible death.  (God help me if I should ever actually have any children).  Mom was the plant person in our family.  I tend to follow more my Dad's lead - leave the watering to God.  Needless to say, the color around our house has been reduced to all but the hardiest of bushes.  My favorite is the tropical plant Bird-of-Paradise.  We have quite a few in our yard and I thought, since I do the mowing now, that I had killed them all.  Since Mom passed, I can count on one hand the number of blooms.  That is until this year - this is the year of the Bird-of-Paradise.  Each plant has multiple blooms.  I took a picture tonight.  It's hard to say why I love this plant.  I remember as a kid thinking how much they looked like birds.  And they're orange and blue; can never go wrong being orange and blue.

Boyfriend Booty Call

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Sexting and Hacked Phones

Whenever I'm listening to the radio in the car, I'm not always sure I've heard what I think I've heard. This is especially true in the mornings when I'm driving to work, putting on my make-up, brushing my hair, adjusting the girls in my bra, listening to voicemails, texting, thinking about where I might like to go for lunch that day - basically all the things I should not be doing while driving. A few weeks ago, when the news broke about different celebs having their phones hacked, I thought I heard the DJ say that a study found that about a third of the women polled said there were revealing pictures of them on the internet and that most just considered sending naked pictures of themselves a normal part of relationships now.

 

When I thought I might post my thoughts about all of this, I ran into a big problem. My thoughts are a big mess. 

 

I guess, to begin with, I'm among that group of women who considers sending naughty pictures of myself to my lover to be fun. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a single picture I've regretted. As long as no one is being coerced into something they don't want to do, then I think we should just have fun w it. I did. Sadly, there is always someone out there who has to ruin it. In my case, mostly, it was my ex-husband. I really don't want to talk about him here; he is just a sad excuse for a man. After our divorce, pictures that I took for him or that we made together were on the internet for all to see (he never admitted doing it). Now, I guess I am embarrassed by those photos. But not because I'm naked or what they show me doing. I'm embarrassed, if that's any the right word, because he took something that was meant to be special between us and tried to make it hurtful.

 

The only ones it really hurt were the men I dated afterwards because I was more on guard about every little thing. It was a male co-worker who unintentionally helped me get better one day. He asked if I would go to lunch w him one day. Not a couples date or anything like that. He simply wanted to go to a specific place for lunch. Obviously, I was going to ask him why - which I did once we were at lunch. He told me that this place had been one of his favorite places to go for lunch. In due time, he was in a serious relationship and he often met his girlfriend there for lunch. Then, one day, at that very place, he said she dumped him. (I'm thinking quietly to myself - what a bitch to dump a man at his favorite place.  But how some women can be hateful is a topic for another day).  He said he avoided the place for months after that - "but I need to re-claim it, I need to make it my place again". I was honored that he asked me to join him on his maiden voyage back to his "place". And it got me to thinking - what all had I given up or stopped doing because someone hurt me? I went to lunch to support a friend, but I think he unknowingly supported me more. Slowly, I began to re-claim the fun things I enjoyed in dating and relationships.

 

The Boyfriend, as non-sexual as is, has always appreciated any picture I have ever sent him. And I always enjoyed doing it. It was sad that some jerk ruined that for me for so long. That's what I thought of the celeb's who had their phones hacked. I'm guessing they had fun sexting their lover. And now some jerk was ruining that for them.

FFF Bad Idea

   Fight w your boyfriend
+ Going to the bar to chill out
= bad idea

   Fighting w your boyfriend
+ Going to the bar to chill out
+ Calling his best friend for support
+ His meeting you there to talk
= Really bad idea

   Fighting w your boyfriend
+ Going to the bar to chill out
+ Calling his best friend for support
+ His meeting you there to talk
+ Tequila shots
= Worst idea ever

Vibrating Panties

A friend emailed this to me the other day and I couldn't stop laughing.  Poor girl. 

But then, if I was to be totally honest, a big part of me was intrigued by the idea of it.  And if I was to be really totally honest, I'd also admit that I continued to be 'intrigued' by the idea of it while I was taking a shower.  I'm not sure I can explain why.  Maybe both the naughty and public pieces.  I liked the idea of my lover being able to surprise me w a flip of a switch and send tingles through my private bits . . . and nobody surrounding us knowing.  Even better, he tortures me to get him a beer, show a little skin, say things to him or he will keep pressing the button.

 

Seriously, knowing my luck, I'd probably have the following happen.

 

 

Of course, let's keep it honest, just sitting next to Gerard Butler would cause me to orgasm.

Kinda/Sorta Date

I swear - I think being a Gator is going to cause my heart to explode.

 

All in the Gator Nation (isn't that everyone?) know that, two weeks ago, the sky parted to unleash a fury upon Florida Field.  Granted, it is known as "The Swamp".  But the continuous lightening did discourage even the most intrepid Gator from taking the field.  The whole ten seconds that they did play, the Gator looked more like he really was running through a swamp than a football field.  We were at a sports bar and kept waiting because we knew that eventually the storm would pass - it didn't.  Okay, we also kept waiting because there was beer.

 

And then last night!  Triple overtime!!  Really!!! 

 

On a lighter note, I went to the sports bar - appropriately named "Gators" - on a kinda/sorta date, I guess.  It didn't really start out as a date.  I had been asked out to watch the game, but I encouraged him instead to join a group of us that had decided to meet at "Gators" to watch the game.  I guess, to be fair to him, it became a date when we made arrangements for him to pick me up.  Now, to be fair to me, I had plans already to ride w someone because I did not want to worry about drinking and driving.  As I read what I'm writing, I'm thinking - "what a bitch".  But really, I wasn't looking to go out on a date that night.  I was just planning to hook up w friends, not just girls, to have a good time and watch the game.  A girlfriend was already set to pick me up, but he did live just a stone's throw from me and when he offered to get me instead to my girlfriend - who was driving a little bit out of her way - well, it only made sense.  I guess it became a date to me when he started buying my beers and I didn't protest.  Now, besides making me sound bad, I'm making him sound like he was not datable material.  No, really, he's a really nice guy (yes, I know, I had a guy friend tell me that being called "nice" was the kiss of death - but that's a discussion for another day).  I guess, what I'm saying is that, from my perspective, we kinda/sorta fell into a date.  And, maybe that was a good thing, because I'm not sure that I would have ever said "yes" to going out w him.  As it turned out, I had a real nice time . . . and I think he did too.  Hours of waiting w many wings and pitchers of beer consumed, he suggested we go see "Guardians of the Galaxy".  I'd seen it before (which I didn't tell him - thinking about it, he might have already seen it too but didn't tell me), but was totally into seeing it again.  Great movie.  And I never grow tired of looking at Chris Pratt!!!  Now, I did sincerely offer to pay for the tickets since he had paid for dinner and drinks.  He stayed true to guy code and wouldn't let me.  The movie was awesome, as I knew it would be.  He put his arm around me.  I lifted up the armrest between our seats and curled up into him.  He caught a little side-boob action.  At first, I thought it was accidental, but when he kept running his fingers up and down . . . well, once is maybe accidental and he went way past the once.  (Silent laughing).  Anyone looking for more sordid details, that was really the extent of the 'action'.  My favorite part of our "date" was when we walked back to his car.  He was opening the door for me, but then he suddenly stopped me from getting in - instead, he pulled me into him for a long lingering kiss.  I love to kiss.  His was perfect.  When he drove me home, he walked me to my door and kissed me again the same way.  Yes, I did the girly thing, and just leaned against the inside of the door after I closed it, smiling.

 

Mowing Rain Out

Sunday is lawn mowing day or, as Daddy calls it, the day Rachel encourages Mr. Murphy to sit outside and get some fresh air.  Well, right now, its lightening and pouring (yep, the same kind of storm that caused my beloved Gators to cancel their home opener).  I'd seen the weather report yesterday morning, however, so kind of expected this.  Sadly, for Mr. Murphy that is, I took care of the lawn yesterday.  Daddy made a smart ass remark about Mr. Murphy being disappointed.  I quipped back that he could be a good neighbor and go tell him. 

A little later, I was mowing against the neighbors chain link fence.  I thought it odd the way a weed had grown into the fence but paid it no further mind.  When I was about two inches from the weed, I noticed that the weed was moving . . . and that it wasn't a weed!!!

I peed my pants!!!

Opening Day

Damned Nose Bleeds

I get these horrific nose bleeds.

I may not have a nose bleed for months. And then my nose will pour blood for days in a row. Usually, they occur after a nice relaxing hot shower. I'm drying off only to see my beautiful new towel covered w blood. Want to know a great way to ruin a nice relaxing hot shower - follow it by trying to shove tissue into your nose, a nose thats spewing blood everywhere you look, w hands that are soaking wet and so making the tissue soaking wet, while your blood covered face makes you look like a well fed zombie. Clearly, in case my frustration is not obvious enough, I just had another nose bleed. I'm sitting at my laptop, wearing yet another blood stained towel, w tissue shoved up my left nostril.  And its always the fucking left nostril!!!

And since I knew better than to try going straight to bed, I turned on my laptop.  I made that mistake before of going right to bed and woke up the next morning to a bloody pillow and bloody sheet.  My mom, it was when I was still a teenager, was convinced the blood had all come from my vagina and that I was newly sexually active.  I kept saying - "my pillow - really?"  Now do realize, I was already sexually active - but the blood was from my nose dang it!!!!  I turned to my favorite sites on blogger and realized I have been a very bad girl.  I'm sorry.  I've just been busy having wonderful moments to blog later (smiling).  But since I'm sitting here looking stupid w what looks like a tampon up my nose, and since I've been bad to blogger . . .

. . . . It only seems appropriate now to admit to one of my most embarrassing moments ever.

I was still in high school. I wasn't like the biggest slut at our school, but I wasn't exactly the most pristine either. I was about average. Laughing. Anyway, I had been dating this guy for a few months. We had not had sex yet, but we were probably working towards it. As it happened, I was on my period this particular night. We'd gone to a movie and were necking pretty serious in the parking lot afterwards. He was clearly hinting at getting a blowjob. I let him hint for a good long while even though I'd already decided I would do that for him. What can I say to defend myself, young girls who think they're in love. When I began undoing his pants, I smiled because I could hear his breathing change from excitement. Thinking back, I believe his was the second dick I had taken between my lips. I'm sure my lack of experience was telling in my lack of skill, but my audience wasn't complaining. I'm bobbing away on his dick when I lean back to take a break and to kiss him on his lips. I ran the back of my hand along my nose because it felt a little wet, I was surprised to see my hand covered w something . . . something I soon determined was blood. He's in shock because he doesn't know what's going on. I later learn that my face became smeared w blood when I wiped my hand across it; and it was my face smeared w blood that he saw. He told me he at first thought the blood had come from him. He checked his pants and there was the sight I have tried long to forget - his dick, thighs, and pants covered in bright red blood. Neither of us made any real effort to see the other one again. There was no recovering from a moment like that.

Deja Vu

I know it's been a while since I've done much posting.  It's been even longer since I've read over my past posts.  Been doing both lately and too funny - just learned something else about myself.  Apparently, when I am super-horny and just wanting to get laid, I like it from behind.  No talking.  No distractions.  No pleasantries.  Just pound me.

Bend Me Over  (In case I blow setting up the link - it's July 28, 2013)
 

 

 

Too funny!!!  

Sunday and Mr. Murphy

It's Sunday.  It's time to mow the lawn again.  Gotta keep the lawn looking good and Mr. Murphy smiling.

 

http://naughtyrachel-xx.blogspot.com/2013/08/me-and-mr-murphy.html

 

 



Booty Call

I don't know what it is w the Boyfriend and me.

I don't know if we're each other's safety net . . . or the anchor around each other's neck. It may be a combination of both. He's my safety net. And I'm the anchor around his neck.

Randi and I went out w the girls the other night. We all know what that means - a whole lot of drinking and a whole lot of talking about sex. The girls, who I met through Randi, are not lightweights in either category. When I talk w the guys, they tell me that girls night out is nothing like boys night out. Drinking seems to be the only thing each has in common. First off, drunk girls dance.  There are going to be bodies rubbing against bodies - laughing - obviously not something which happens on guys night out.  Another difference, Wide Load told me that men might say who they've "tagged", but don't really get into details. Fuck that!!! Girls get into detail.  We want the dirt!!!

It was a hot wet evening if you know what I mean.

Heading home, I texted the Boyfriend, "you home". I was sure he'd probably gone to sleep when I got his response, "yup". I texted again, "want some company". It's moments like that, waiting for his response, which make me so damned glad I'm not a guy. I don't know how y'all deal w the constant threat of rejection. I was anxious waiting for him to text back. And yet, I swear I was getting more wet w the excitement too. I'm sure it was only seconds, but it felt like forever, when I got his text, "what makes you think I don't have company". Oh shit, I hadn't thought of that. Even so, I was pretty sure he was teasing. If he had a girl over, the date had to be going pretty bad for him to be texting w me. I remember laughing at the image of me showing up, walking in, and tagging her hand - "you're out, I'm in".

"Want more company", I responded, smiling to myself.

Just before arriving, I texted him w what I wanted. It's so much easier to text it than to say it. "No warm up needed. I'm ready for you. Just put me on my knees and fuck me hard. Hair pulling and spankings are optional".

Boyfriend handled everything w passion . . . including the options.