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!!!!