Sunday, December 17, 2006

Stronger for the Wear

Well, the Mister Doctor Latex Glove In My Ass was wrong. He said it was okay to go ahead and have anal sex.

So many things have been happening and not happening lately. There's been a lot of waiting and being patient. A lot of my body forcing me to re-examine and be thoughtful. I'm not sure if I do or don't believe in karma or reincarnation, but I do think - often - that my one hurdle in this life is to be more patient and I'm tested on this more than I like.

I've gone on the prowl again - it sounds like it should be "I've gone on the dole again." I've got a few fingers in a few pots. Sadly, this world is so small that James and I run into each other quite frequently through our online personals. I guess it's not so much sadly as it is "oddly." And while my fingers are dabbling - quite cautiously - in a few places, I'm still moving slowly and not actually filling my dance card that quickly. One would think that the Lola, THE Lola would have lovers coming and going, almost tripping over each other on the way out. Not the case. And, in one fashion, thank god for the internet. Online I can quite assume a position of local whore and get off all in due time on my own clock.

So, you ask, what's really happening in my bed then? Well, a lot of Andy lately. As you saw peeks below, so you can find the rest over on Flickr - and if you don't have access to the pics, let me know so we can remedy that. Andy's been the sole visitor to my sanctuary. He's reliable, unassuming, medically/scientifically aware so he understands my cold sores, adventurous, dominant, and completely taken so there's no worry of either one of us obsessing. As I mentioned to James on our last few dates, I truly belive I'm happier and better as a mistress than a girlfriend.

The images from "military man pays Lola a visit and brings a giant lollipop" aren't quite the calibur of the event itself. His digicam isn't quite porny trained - here's hoping Santa comes through for Lola!! So, please disregard the photos wherein I look completely drugged, drunk, fat, and quite like a corner tart from the uglier side of the UK.

Anyway. Andy's agreed to be my partner in helping me swallow cock and cum better. [Oh, such a difficult task for him! ha.] As you'll see, practice makes perfect. If any ladies out there have tips, please feel free to share. I really don't think any ladies are reading my blog, but whatever. If you gents have tips, share as well. Andy's also well aware of my sick fantasies around incest and older man/younger girl, humiliation, and the like. I really really really didn't want to do some of the things he requested, but I did them anyway. Like, spreading my ass wide for the cam. You'll notice that I romanticized that image with a bit of fuzzing.

Well, these images were taken a few weeks back [disregard the 10-08-2003 date stamp]. But Andy visited Thursday, 7th - after Mister Doctor Latex Glove said I didn't have hemorrhoids but had a "tag" of skin and I was okey-dokey to get ass fucked. Well, come to find out, I had a fissure already started in my bummie and the arse fucking just made it worsen and made it all grody.

Seriously though, it's like we need to proclaim a Coming Out day for medical issues. We could all wear t-shirts - some women could wear "I had an abortion" shirts, some could wear "I have hemorrhoids," some could wear "I had my wisom teeth out," some "I had Lance's ball cancer and now I have one nut," some "I have prostethic tits," some "I am missing my frontal lobe." And on and on.

Since I told a couple of people about my hems (hems reminds me of hemi which sounds tough whereas 'roids sounds like steroids and sounds like a gay boy weight lifting), there are some many hot, young ladies who have confessed to me that they, too, have them. It's astounding. I seriously thought I was alone [insert music from an after-school special]. But I'm not. And then I heard from young, hot men. And it seems that anyone who has ever tried ass fucking has run into the hems. Not like I'm about to wear a shirt that says "Ass fucker with hems & I'm proud!" But it sure is nice to know that it's not just the 60 year old grandpa Joes with them.

Thank god I'm not a single mom who has to work 60 hours a week. Instead, I got to take a couple of days off from work to worry, soak in a tub every hour for 10 minutes, focus on eating salads & roughage, drink water, sleep enough, and generally suck in my anus so it wouldn't tense up and hem up. And... let ... me... tell... you. It worked! All that bullshit we hear as kids (eat well, sleep enough, exercise, drink water) works.

Anyway.. totally not sexy. But totally true. And who else would bring the truth about assholes to you, darlings, but me??? Someone's gotta talk about it.

So, I'm bored out of my mind for days at home, soaking (which btw, I was never a huge fan of baths - I think I might actually be into them now), eating, drinking water, sucking in my anus. What's a girl to do but dream of the day when she can get fucked? Which of course led me to and I guess I re-started my story_101 ad wherein I make up a theme (this month is sexy santa) and write a personal ad for that. Which of course wasn't enough so I posted about on and ended up chatting with a few fellows. One I'd admired from afar but had never thought to contact him. Another was a newbie from the other side of the state.

First came the newbie, PhD2006. Looking back there were tell-tale signs. [collective sigh & cringe] But damn were his photos hot of his torso & overall body & cock. Although tasteful in a way. There are so many so many ... SO MANY personal ads that just have a shot of cock. I mean, really. You boys might think you're oh so fucking hot with your hot rod & about to cum, but let me tell you. Ladies - we ain't digging on the chicken. Put it back in your pants and just give us a shot of your right foot for god's sake. It's better than your floppy, puny, thin, too red!, curvey to the right, uncircumsized, oh so veiny, so thick and long it'll pain ya, short cock. I mean, really. I'm way more attracted to a photo of a man standing in a yard with his face covered than a cock. Cock just screams loser.

Anyway. PhD2006 was slightly discrete with his cock photos with a teaser of a mostly chest shot with a slight cock head peeping out of a tough hand. At 49 years old his body was built. We exchanged emails. Then we exchanged IMs and he was witty, I was witty. It was fun. Then the webcam - as it always progresses this way. He did act rather un-dom-ish and more college boy-ish. Kept asking me to show him my tits. But he also has a PhD in human behavior, could talk books, was sexy, and a good distraction for me. So, we were planning to meet in Madison when he'd be in Madison on Monday.

Meanwhile, an old flame Roger has been emailing me back and forth since around election time. I remember having 2 drunk dates with him back in 2004 and being pressed up against the full floor to ceiling window of a top floor hotel room. But now, seems he's working more, traveling more, more willing to exchange emails and not have a date. He's a romantic vanilla man with kinky ideas but limited experience. I'm totally interested in a date, but he's just not coming around. So I'm losing interest.

Meanwhile, I drop an email to a well-known dom in town regarding an email I get from some other guy claiming he knows him. Well-Known Dom emails back and confirms their friendship/apprenticeship and also divulges he'd like to know more about me. I'm totally into exploring more with W-KD. I have lady pals in the area who vouch for him and he's got a live-in slave so there's no chance of obsession or long-term focus, although secretly I would love to live vicariously through them and learn what happens in a long-term master/slave relationship. And this guy takes the cake. He isn't asking me to bare my tits on cam, isn't using Capitalization for Dom and lower case for sub and isn't commanding me to do things and makes note that he isn't my dom and thus can't force me to do anything, isn't rushing to meet or wishy-washy about details. I know I'm putting too many eggs into one basket.

I do that a lot.

Meanwhile, I know James is beating some cutey pie in Milwaukee and dating sweet things around town. I wonder if we'll awkwardly run into each other some time.

Meanwhile, I'm back to soaking for 10 minutes. Staring at the black and white tile. Closing my eyes. Letting my mind wander and re-focusing it. Meditating on healing. Walking down the street... There's a car stopped at an intersection. It waits for the minivan to go first since it arrived first. Waits. Waits. Goes. I walk toward the crosswalk and catch the minivan's attention so it doesn't run me over. A woman. There are some people who are so traumatized, like today life left them by a few breaths. Like someone died and a layer of their skin left, too. They're not vaccuous, they're not dumb, they're just stunned by a wallop of life. Her eyes, slightly empty, far away, her brows slightly turned upward, her mouth gently ajar. She's not begging for help, she's not weeping. She's not desperate. She's just coping. Slightly stunned by life. I cross and turn around after 20 seconds. She's still sitting there in the minivan waiting to turn. ... Wait. Wait. Back to my ass. Right.

Meanwhile, Friday I did allow myself to indulge in humanity. pdh had invited me to join some of his pals to see the Nutcracker. Apparently there's some kind of competition with people in this town to actually _be_ in the Ncracker. Sadly, some poor sap had to bail on his role in the parent party in the beginning -- if you haven't seen it, goes like this: parent xmas party, kids run around, creepy magician guy gives a weird present of dolls coming alive like a nutcracker guy & ballerina girl, the real girl who gets the ncracker falls asleep has a dream of rats fighting the nutcraker men, then she dreams she's sitting for an hour on a sleigh with a little boy while they watch the ballerina dance with a bunch of other ballerinas, no one speaks or sings, show over, bows. Yeah. I seriously thought it was soooo much more than that. Then again, I must be a social retard b/c I thought that swan lake was in it - well, jesus! The ballerinas are dancing on the stage with a snowflake backdrop.. C'mon. Give a girl a break.

So, guy bows out of parents party and pdh hears about it and steps in. There's like 30 people on stage and pdh is one of the men dancing around merrily throwing his arms up in perfect dramatic flair. I decide to ignore the hems and head out to dinner with Ms. M, Cat, a, and Emily. They mostly talk roller derby since the 3 ladies are derby girls (sooo hot, I know) and a is .. what are you a? A groupie? An afficionado? A derby roadie? A few times I think Ms. M thinks I'm bored. I'm totally not because this is the first brush with people I've had in days. I'm consuming my salad thinking about how it'll help my shit pass better and enjoying the discussion about who's size C tits are better - Emily's or some other derby chick. I'm feeling conservative and shy and appreciate being a fly on the wall of the soup.

more to come:
*PhD2006 comes to town and fingers me for an hour at the Great Dane bar, alas ends poorly.
*Roger is a sub, I'm sure of it.
*Why can't I get accepted TODAY to a school in some more exotic locale?
*Frustration and patience. My middle names.
*PS. I didn't censor or spell-check this entry. It's just too long overdue.
*PPS. No chlamydia, no gonorrhea, no nothing. Apparently I just had a fissure which made life hard for a week. ... why? why? why me?
*PPPS. At least Andy is stopping by soon. I'm not getting enough sex. I'm not getting enough domination. I'm just plain ol' not getting it. Patience - I hate thee. Frustration - I hate thee more.


a said...

What am I?

Hmmm... A pro-appreciator? I remember seeing you at a bout many a time. When derby started, I knew about half of the people in it, maybe more. Mostly people culled from either the academic feminist riot-grrl side or people from the rock/punk cultures in town. I'd end up at afterbars and at events. Eventually, I think, I just kinda became a part of the 'scene', if you will.

Nowadays, I'm living with one, in love with one, and having a bit of sex with some on the side. In a lot of ways, women who are into derby are nearly my ideal.

I had such a lovely time just being in the same space as you. Maybe again, sometime.

I hope your time with Andy is excellente.

darth sardonic said...

while i love hearing about your escapades, and don't even mind hearing about your ass and your hems, the paragraph about the woman in the minivan fucking blew me away. how well you captured that look that i have occasionally found on my own face in the mirror...

why the fuck aren't you writing a memoirs-y novel yet? i keep scanning borders for the cheating death once again novel.

keep it up.

noman said...

Try this blow job training seminar for some tips (so to speak). Maybe you'll get to practice on military guy sometime soon. I'm sure you could cull some volunteers from your readership...

Have a fun an safe holiday!