Sunday, December 31, 2006

Joys of a Whore

To be nobody but yourself
in a world which is doing its best
- night and day -
to make you everybody else
means to fight the hardest battle
which any human being can fight;
and never stop fighting.
e. e. cummings



Updates:

*PhD2006 comes to town and fingers me for an hour at the Great Dane bar, alas ends poorly.

--> I had a business dinner and then walked the block over to the bar to meet PhD2006. Never a good sign, and recommended that you never do this boys: He actually emailed me earlier saying he wanted to be in a bar where he could "watch the game." I totally thought he was kidding, but it turns out he wasn't. We didn't go to a more comfy, sexy bar at all but stayed in the not-so-sexy, pool hall bar. Regardless, nothing gets a whore down. Make do with whatcha got, and dump it if it's not enough. Anyway. We chatted a great deal about what he does, what I do, and then he slowly started raising my skirt. I was wearing a knee-length, kinda loose & swishy, nice black skirt. We were sitting facing the bar and he'd requested that I not wear panties. Let me summarize by saying there were multiple fingers up multiple times and that skirt went to the dry cleaners. But I'm a polite and professional woman, so the moans were contained and the eyes didn't roll back into my head. I did get glassy-eyed and dreamy and tingly. And it was very exciting to be doing this in a public place with a guy sitting close to my left and another guy rather close behind PhD's back. It was going all well and good, but he was going to drive the 2 hours back to his home and I had to get off to bed. So he offered me a ride in his car. Oh, lordy. Not that I'm that particular, puhleez. But at a certain age in life, it's a good idea to have some of your life in order - especially if you claim to be a dominant who can and wants to play with young lady submissives. He walked to me his car, told me to close my eyes because it was a mess, tidied up a bit, and actually laid a towel down on the passenger seat for my very nicely dressed ass. I felt like a high schooler. I felt bad for this man. I didn't feel sexy and I felt slightly repulsed. I know, I know. I drove a rickety old car for years and left it cluttered with my crazy life - when I was 22. Totally turned me off. ... I did email him my "concerns" and he emailed back saying he was getting a car loan approved for the first of the year. I emailed that I was eager to meet again. Apparently I got busy in the rest of my life and he sent me a Dear John IM - I'm now not on his IM buddy list anymore. Juvenile.

*Roger Z is a sub, I'm sure of it.

--> Or maybe just in his core he plain' ol' wants to please is all.

*Why can't I get accepted TODAY to a school in some more exotic locale?

--> Cuz that ain't the way the cookie crumbles.

*Frustration and patience. My middle names.

--> They both pay off in overdose in the end.




I was going to write a re-make of the reindeer song [on Dancer, on Prancer, on ...] with the names of my current lovers, but I thought it childish.

So before this week and year are over, here's what's been making me glow like I've been re-born. Vacation really does look good on me....!

Monday, 18th, I had the work dinner and met up with PhD2006. Tuesday and Thursday I chatted with a yummy dirty sick pervy online - well, a couple of them actually. One who lives in NYC and is writing a book, Roger - not the aforementioned one. He indirectly kicked Jim Carroll's ass; he's been spotted by Gawker and hated it; and he's a yummy pervert to chat with. Then, there's Joe who is a college student in Ohio and gets off by writing nasty pervy incest chats for women to get off on. Apparently he only squeezes his cock on a break between typing but gets his thrills off of the woman's participation. Yes, I did ask, "How do you know if the woman's getting off?" It is true though - some people can cover it up well... ho hum I'm so bored, "ooo ooo yes yes!" And others can't express themselves well at all when totally turned on, "o my. yes. yes." And there is a a way to read a chatter. So what if some of the ladies lie to him? I'm just not good at faking it so I go deeper and deeper into horrible fantasies. The youngest boy I've chatted with in a while. Vacation rules.

Wednesday [as you saw below in the garters, fishnets, and lacy slip], Andy generously stopped by in the early evening. I know it's mutual and that I excite him as much as he does me, but I still feel lucky to have him available and interested. This was the first re-introduction of my sexy parts in about a week and a half. The last visit he paid me ended up turning my bumstar into a sad, sad, dim lit pucker. Of course, bumstar was off limits this visit, but the rest of me was eager. I'm still perfecting my ability to take all of his length into my mouth and learning to relax my throat so I don't feel the need to gag immediately. The sex... oh my. We both give and get.

Oh, yeah, I also shopped for xmas presents and got out of the apartment. I've been making sure that I leave at least once a day and work out at least twice a week. You know me, I could hole up for days in here with enough groceries, booze, music, and workable vibrators. I'm such a dirty boy on the inside. Amused with my own buttons.

Friday I got my hairs cut and had dinner with James. We ran into each other at the gym and worked out, then were going to part for a few hours, meet up again for dinner. But we moved dinner up and I texted that I was hoping he'd want to fuck me a bit afterwards. It's good to put my desires out there I've decided. Some people can't read my gestures, some people can't guess, some people aren't mind readers. And I should ask for what I want, dammit. We had sushi and almost rushed back to my place. He wanted to show my his new rope tricks, tossed me into a shower (since dinner was almost 1/2 hour after working out), and started prep. I came out to see something like 8 piles of rope laid out cleanly down the bed, ready for use. My chest was bound first, separating and lifting my tits. My wrists and arms tied together on top of my abdomen next. My lower calves, sitting Indian style were bound together next. For the finale, he tied a sort of noose around my neck which connected directly to the rope around my calves. Helpless, he had to push me onto my back. He had to hold me in position while he fucked my face. He was able to cock slap my cheeks and humiliate me. Helpless, he had to roll me back up to my haunches, turn me, push me back down again and find my cunt. The rope tied at my back started to press deeply into my skin and my cunnie tunnel was shortened by the angle so every cock thrust topped out at my cervix. It wasn't comfortable, but not painful. And, that's how he wanted it. And that's how we both came. Together. Waves and waves of relief and confusion rolled out through me.


This is what I had pictured for the last year. My sex infused with kink in every second. From the humiliation, the bondage, the gagging, the dirty words, the pain in my back, the delicious rope marks afterwards. This is exactly how I wanted it. And I got it.




I did cry a bit as he untied me. PMS? Emotion? Overload? Love? I don't know. But he was great. He held me from behind as he untied me. He caressed me and shhh'd me, calmed me. .... And, like I like it, he left me.

Saturday I was hooked on making phonics. Rented a car - which I thought was styling but my dad later informed me was Buick's attempt at making a not-so-old-lady car. Then, swung by and had a lovely, and slightly nervous visit with Ms. M., one of the current lovers of my ex-lover pdh. [Are you keeping up? Sadly, CDOA v.2 will not be made available for cross-checks or previous references for a bit so just go with it for now. If you're like, who is James? Who is pdh? Hold tight. It will all fall into place over time.... UPDATE: CDOA v.2 is available but not in use.] I dare not say why it was slightly nervous. But she was a doll for giving me a great present to take to my sister for xmas, which made shopping way less painful for me overall. I am so much more into people who give xmas lists over people who generalize, "I like fiction books." Grrrrreat.

After our sit-down, I got lost looking for a stupid store to buy some ingenious gift for my pops since he's the hardest to shop for. Stupid west side of town. I was starving b/c I find I'm wayyy more horny on vacation and wayyy less hungry. So, I did the kiss-of-death stop. The once-in-a-year stop. I drove in the parking lot, up to the drive-thru, paid, and looped back around to scarf back in the parking lot... and I know it was just condemned for the E. Coli, but I had a mad craving for 2 bean burritos & nachos & crazy melted cheese whiz from the Bell. I only got the nachos & 1 burrito down before I almost heaved, but it was soooooo worth the break down. Man, I love that grease.

Really, I was routing around and rooted for food, not only because I was hungry, but also because I was waiting for the XM radio to kick back in. The rental car subscription apparently cut off right after I left Ms. M's apartment. So, I signed back up knowing the rental car folks would reimburse me. XM was pretty fucking cool, too. Although, they had like, singularly focused channels - a hip hop, a hardcore rap, an 80s, a chill, many world music stations featuring mostly French groups, something called "Ethel" and "Lucy" of kinda alt music either from my college days or current. It would have been fucking rocking if they had a compilation or mixed channel though. Incorporate a bit of all of it together to keep me on my toes and diverse.

Family gatherings have fallen into tradition of sorts so I went off to Whole Foods for my 4 special cheeses and crackers. My sister makes the pies now and I'm the cheese girl. Fucking bitch though, doesn't remember that I started the pie making scene. Back when I was so super poor I could only afford to eat rice, tomatoes, and tofu stir-fry for every dinner; oatmeal and raisins for breakfast; and whatever I could scam at the pizza restaurant for lunch. I learned how to make cheap pies then. Made my own dough with flour, sliced up butter, salt, and water. Rolled it out for a bottom and top. Cut up apples and sprinkled in a few slices of butter, some brown and white sugar and a slight drop of salt. No credit where credits due when she makes an apple & cranberry pie, pumpkin pie, mincemeat. I started that, bizotch, and don't you forget it. Next she'll be cutting in on my cheese business.

I stayed up way too late chatting and fiddling my diddle. Sunday, Christmas Eve day, I was planning on leaving at about noon. I got up at 10am and craved one last wank before leaving. Subconsciously - and knowingly - I had no interest in getting to my parents at all. I found my college boy Joe and came sooo hard while my laundry spun and the minutes were passed noon.

"i want him to climb on top of you, your legs still in the stirrups, he places his raging hard cock inside you, your pussy is still just a massive pepsi can sized hole. and he goes balls deep in you, making sure his piss stream goes as deep into your body as possible. you nasty slut, take your doctor's piss"

"you are like the 109th patient he is breeding. he is still using his strong arms to pin your shoulders down. but the mating at his hips, is passionate. you are the best patient, giving him the most pleasure, because you are the first patient he has allowed free of the stirrups. he LOVES how you wrap those thighs around him. he knows his slippery cock is working, because you are panting. you aren't even fighting the rape anymore. but he still knows who is in charge, he still calls you slut. he says, first my piss, now my seed, you're going to be my bitch"

"'Sweetie, it's no good, Daddy can't finish up with your tummy.' said her father, slowing his tummy-fucking and releasing his vice-grip on her chubby little body. Mary was crestfallen but she was prepared mentally. Now she would have to accept her father's blood-engorged stiff cock up into her own little body, where hopefully there he could relieve himself of the terrible hurt that Mary knew happened every day in Daddy's testicles...............Drawing his hips back now he reached down and gripped his own cock and angled it down between his very own daughter's smooth thighs. It was Mary's turn to grunt as the blunt pre-cum-slicked head of her father's cock prodded inquisitively at the sensitive little slit between her legs."

Don't judge me, dear reader. When in the mood, I can be completely vile and sick.


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We interrupt this broadcast. 9:30am CST. Saddam is dead. Honest, I have mixed emotions. I don't like capital punishment and as my dad says, if he's left to live his life in prison in the Middle East he could be freed. I know this, but I also know our own President has committed some of the same crimes only more covertly. Will he then experience a week-long observation like Ford or will he get what's due? And there are others. I certainly do not support the mass slaughtering of innocent peoples in Kuwait or Iraq or other countries. Not at all. But if we hang one, shouldn't we follow that policy to charge and hang the rest of his kind? And where do we draw the line? Robbing the poor to give to the rich - is that not a heinous crime? Starving your own people. Assassinating pools of your own people. Sending your own people off to die. Corporate greed. Where do we draw the line? It's a difficult thing to reconcile. He deserved a hell fire burning and an anal rape and licking the depths of the gutter with his cock cut off - for the rest of his life, yes. But I'm not sure that he deserved to not suffer these the rest of his life. .......... And, yes, I do worry for the judge who sentenced him.


@@@@@@@@@@@




Do not judge me. You may feel all liberty to swear at me and to call me names and to live vicariously or think I may have stepped over the lines. But until you can rest your body into mine, do not even think about judging me.


Dinner with the family was fine. We had my sister's ex-step-kids over --- no, Hex, not those step-kids. I don't terribly hate all kids, and I do like these ones a bit. But I was cornered on the couch with a 20-days-away-from-turning-18 year old girl. Blabber blabber someone save me blabber impress you blabber blabber. My internet boys had all chided me not to think dirty thoughts while at home. I couldn't help it when her younger brother, a sweet 16 year old baseball jock boy talked to me. His nicely, still tanned, toned arms, his sweet innocent smile. His slightly blushing looks. I could only hope that he'd touch himself later thinking of me. And their younger brother, 13 years old. Such a darling. Wants to go off to save the world but is afraid of the homeless. How was I not to laugh? I'm sure I was laughed at as a child. My dreamy aspirations colored by ignorance.

Xmas day we opened up gifts with our mentally-failing grandmother. I love her dear soul but feel like she's slightly like a shadow of a woman I knew before. And then... the torture. We had almost 4 hours between gift opening and dinner. Boredom. Pure and total boredom. It tested me and almost killed me. Our family doesn't fancy walks, doesn't see the need to be busy. So, we sat there. My sister made pies. My mother chastised my sister's unruly dogs and helped with pies. My grandmother was forced to read some dumb book. My father read and chastised his mother for speaking unclearly. I sat, curled in the corner of the couch and read Persepolis, the entire first book [totally fucking awesome by the way, a graphic novel about a girl growing up in Iran and then the second book about her becoming a woman in Europe and going back to Iran]. I read a book and a half in those hours. Wishing I would just disappear. I tried to explain to them the night before why I'd appreciate them moving from this house of my childhood. But even if they moved, I'm sure I'd still find myself tortured with the cemetery silence and boredom.

Dinner was great. My maybe-pervy uncle and my favorite aunt. Great food. Good conversation. But I still counted the hours until I could drive home. I finished the second Persepolis book in the gues bed that night. In the end, I got good food, good presents from Santa and family, I was loved... but so bored.

I got home and washed myself over by indulging once again in my existence.

Wednesday was dinner with SirMax [which I have made into its own post - either click the link or scroll up]

.........................................

The story does not end there. Oddly, I had almost double-booked my life. Thursday, I was due for a day date with Roger Z from 11am until 5pm. PMS girl who was tapped out had to reinvigorate, rest and re-horny.

But this story, and the second visit with SirMax, and what I hope to create tonight on New Years Eve - these will all have to wait, darlings.

I bet you'll read this on 01-01-07 ----- 007! ------ and please let my words of well wishes, prosperity, superior health, amazing sex, heartfelt love, and fucking right-on karma reach you on this day, darling.

All my love to you, dear reader.

And, while I don't encourage skipping ahead, I will tickle your ear and tell you that there are all kinds of new photos in Flickr just waiting to wish you a Happy New Year, love.

2 comments:

a said...

*yawn*

I suppose it was 01-01-07... It was a complete pleasure talking to you last night. I'm glad you seem to have had such a wonderful time.

tata!

Monster said...

as they say in my new (old) home... great day in the morning.

Happy New Year, Lo.

And again and again.