Quick and dirty

The weekend was a bit difficult because I felt rather self-inflated. Why should I - a beautiful, sexy, ripe, kinky slut - be trapping myself indoors out in the suburbs while I could go hit the local yokel bars downtown? Sure, I could have but I felt a bit lazy, a bit wary of the drunk drive back to the 'burbs (too many 20-year-old memories of that), a bit penny-pinching, a bit too-good-for-your-hick-town, a bit insecure, a bit conflicted. I know what would have happened if I went out drinking, too. I was feeling very wet and wily. If I had gone out I would have put a few drinks back, found a pinball table, and suggested heavily to the first co-ed that we find a place to fuck: my car, his car, the alleyway, wherever. Not that this would have been bad form, because you all know me to shun criticism when it comes to standards. But it would have a) wrecked my anonymity, b) tarnished my nouveau virginity, c) made me feel a tad empty and slimy for stooping to either Billy College Boy or Jack Hick Redneck or Mike Hippie Tiedye, and d) done me in enough to stumble loudly back to my parents house in slight disarray and guilt.

So, I opted to stay in and catch up on geeky things like fixing my ipod nano and building a good workout playlist. I sorted paperwork and made lists of "to do." It's strange out here in suburbia and semi-retirement land. Days bleed with no punching-in the clock and no internet 24-7. Is it Tuesday? Is it Saturday? What time is it? So far, time is sectioned by the phone alarm at 9am, the hour I take to wake to the cheerfulness of my parents, the 1/2 hour walk/run on their treadmill, the 1/2 hour with my mom's 5lb weights and crunches (honestly, exercise does stave off the starving horny inside me and makes me a more agreeable person), maybe a lunch if you want mom to make something because she's already pulling something together for dad, the errands (more boxes into storage, a visit to grandma, groceries with mom, free stuff to goodwill, 2-3 hours at the wifi coffee shop), the dinner (I've been crowned the Salad Queen), the dinner in front of the TV with a bottle of wine (I've been drinking more consistantly here than I did in Madison), the hour of cable (okay, okay, "Weeds" is cool), and then 2 hours messing around in my bed while the Tylenol PM kicks in.

Where the hell does time go? Where has it gone? I've been a week here and only have 2 weeks and 5 days left.

Yesterday dad and I went up north and east by about 2.5 hours to see some land they bought. They're moving finally after 16 years over by the Mississip. My military-retired dad is contracting to have a house built by eco-friendly builders and is considering a huge vegetable garden, growing some out of control prairie restoration patch, and wants 2 solar panels on his property for all their energy use. My military, strict as a ruler father is turning hippie. He even mentioned perhaps growing a beard and a ponytail!!! Apparently my mother is going along with it willingly and enthusiastically and is learning about canning and how to have a fish pond.

Things are a bit weird up here. But it hasn't been nearly as horrendous as I thought it was going to be.

We all got a bit stressed out this morning though and dad decided to storm off to see about fixing the air conditioner in their house and mom stomped off to see about some groceries. This gave me a quick sneak upstairs alone. Finally, after a week. Alone! And long enough that I could justify pulling out my little naughty bag, popping in a couple of batteries, firing up the erotica stories. I thought I'd be able to sit back, spread wide (even though on the edge of the bed with the laptop on the bureau beside me), and enjoy a slow-building, body-shattering cum. Interesting, it took about 2 paragraphs of naughty older men touching juicy girls and I was buzzing in my panties. Literally about 2 minutes. Good lord! A premature ejac! Quite the first. But understandable no doubt. I took a quick shower (this was after working out and hauling 6 boxes by myself to the storage room) and noted that everyone was still gone. Yes, the little hungry piggie, I sat on the edge of the bed again, laptop in front of me, egg down the thong, and again about 4 minutes this time. Trying to hold off but indulging all the same.

I'm running around like cold barbed wire rolling up my back and cherub cheeks flushed from need. It's impossible. Waking up with wet dreams and ideas of fingers walking down my thighs, wet lips on my belly dimples. It's one eye open and a forced mental block. Push it down. Ignore it. Lock it away.

Meanwhile, Andy and I are making ticklish prep for this Saturday. He asked me via email if I wanted to know the itineray and I thought he was talking about his work schedule that weekend for our out-of-town rendezvous. I guess he meant our itinerary which includes an official, formal, out-in-the-open dinner date - including reservations!

(Taking liberty and posting what I want:)

Me: A real date sounds like a lot of fun... it's not a pity date for your mistress who you haven't ever taken out in public is it?

Anyway... off to use an electric saw on wood pallets between the rains. Man, I can't wait to get my own time and freedom back.

Don't be surprised if I jump you this Sat btw, I've got constant wet dreams right now and am waking up grumpy and frustrated.

Andy: So after about 2 weeks in Paris I wonder if this phrase will come back to haunt you, "Man, I can't wait to get my own time and freedom back. "? I mean I know you'll enjoy the private space and time to keep your sexual sanity, but I'm betting you'll miss some of those demands on your private time as well (like me, I hope).

< and now for some whiplash subject changes! .>

The date is not pity, no. Atonement, maybe a bit. Last chance, most definitely. I'm very much looking forward to it... as in scary, weird, heart pounding, sweating palms, deliriously looking forward to it way too much. My chance to show you what you've missed. What I've missed.

Me: RE: Coming back to haunt me: I'm sure it will. The grass is always greener, right? I know what homesickness is. But, honestly, I think I've grown to become pals with homesickness b/c I've never really had a 'home.' What is it that my myspace page says again? Home is where I rest my head. I'm a more frustrated and affected by loss of freedom/solitude/personal space/privacy. I will most definitely miss certain 'demands' although I never looked at you, or other playmates, as demanding of my time. You were someone to look forward to, and perfectly timed usually. I realize that I probably masturbate 3-8 times a week and have actual physical contact 1-3 times a week. Without either for a month is frustrating and not having that privacy/space to even get off is insanity-driving. I know I'll at least have the latter in Paris, but my wonderful lover(s) will take a lot more work. It's almost like we've built a very reliable but spontaneous connection and that will be hard to find again.

Atonement is an interesting word to use. I am not about to read into it. ... I've been thinking and daydreaming about it. First, I woke up thinking that your wife would come down to surprise you and there we are, in the lobby, small overnight bags. We'd chat and then you'd walk in and be a bit taken aback. We wouldn't get any time together and you'd have to rush to hide the condoms. Then, there's the other spoiler where the US military plans a surprise and it's been hurry up and wait and then is all cancelled. Then, there's total heart pounding, wondering what we would actually do together while dressed with time to converse (does the whole dynamic get squashed when we realize we aren't good conversation partners or does it all improve by 200%), excitement, already running through my closet in my head (ball gown like I'm a princess, secretary wear like you like, a casual dress and boots, underwear or no underwear), how long will we be able to stay dressed and in public - after all, we do have time but not too much time.... all these things. ... What have we missed? I can't wrap my head around it.

Andy: Ok. Atonement. Our... umm.. relationship/affair/tryst thing has been wonderful (what the hell do we call this thing?). But I can't help feeling that I've somehow marginalized you, or just not given you the attention and affection you have so richly deserved. (And I suspect that you feel that by my giving you no strings attached, good sex, that you've gotten what you wanted. But from a guy's perspective that just seems way-too-good-to-be-true.) I just want to make that up to you in some small way. To atone for every second I may have taken you for granted. Not much else to read into it. You don't know what you've got until it's gone...

[complications addresses]

Conversation: Are you kidding me? A little bit of nervous banter, yes. But we're both talkers. And incurable, incorrigible flirts. This will be fun.

Wine: [reminding me] Your bottle of Spatlese, the note and the wine glasses were at the height of my infatuation with you. V1.0. You were on webcam with me, drinking a white wine from a tumbler and I had to chastise you. Will the pallets and woodchips be protecting those glasses?

Ugh: I sometimes snore. Sometimes not. Please think of it as cute and endearing, and not a stain on your memory of me.

Morning: I anticipate needing to leave the hotel by about 7:30 to 8:00. You'd be free to stay until checkout which I think is at 11:00. We can have breakfast sent up if you like.... although I think I recall your not being much of a breakfast person? Too bad we're 12 blocks from the lake... it'd be nice to take a walk on the shore at sunrise....



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It's sure to be a delightful evening and morning. Although, we will be skipping the early AM walk, I'm checking to see if he'd enjoy an early quickie instead with some room service on the way.

And for some of those reasons I'm glad I skipped going out this past weekend. Sometimes the wait is worth it -- granted, not like a virginity pledge wait, of course. But a little bit of romantic, sexual, sensual tension inside me and outside in the air between the Mississippi and Lake Michigan might end up just raining a bit of desire across this wet state.

The bluffs of the driftless zone

Well, here we are, kids. 45 minutes ticking down on the free wi-fi access code countdown at the Caribou Coffee shop on County Road PH. It sounds all hick like, but I'm actually staring at a Famous Dave's sign just stretching up toward the furry, green bluffs beyond the parking lot.

So, really there's no reason to cry for me.

I wrote the slumber party entry on Monday night. Tuesday morning I stripped and sold the mattress and boxspring. I had pretty much cleaned as much as I could and as much as I had to. The new tenant had revealed to me that she was coming from a 6-person house where the toilets had to be flushed by reaching a hand into the tank to jiggle the lever/flusher. So, my apartment - with a few smudges or stains or burns - would be a paradise in her perspective. It's all relative, isn't it?

With the cleaning slowing down I had time to email back and forth with Andy. In the middle of vacuuming the closets I realized, if he had this much time to chat back and forth for an hour he must be in town. What the hell? So, instead of grabbing lunch, he grabbed me a bit over his lunch hour. It was rather high school with a bedspread on the carpet and 2 couch pillows. But my how I needed to get fucked and how I needed his cock fucking me. He spent a good 20 minutes making me cum over and over again by sucking on my clit and licking me between my legs. I got the royal fucking, wondering if the next door neighbors could see us through the curtainless window. A last one for the road.

I was out of the apartment by 3pm. Who gets to hug their landlord? I loved that guy. We found Ze dead next door. He let me be 5 months late on rent, and let me catch up on my pace (with James's help). He fixed things when I needed them fixed and didn't say a word about the 3 eyelet holes in the baseboard (where James and I drilled eyelets for rope for the head of the bed).

Stopped by the old office, grabbed the girls for a beer, and hit the road to the west. I haven't really let myself stop going going going since.

Wednesday I went through boxes to re-pack for storage permanence, parental use over 2 years, donation to Goodwill, and onward to Paris. Yes, it took a day. Thursday dad and I went to a big box store and got 4 bags of cedar chips and dried them out on a tarp in the driveway. If you know my military father, you will understand this. If you don't know him, but know a retired military man or someone with a bit too much aim for perfection, then you can understand the drying of the cedar chips. Meanwhile, we got the electric table saw out and tweaked the 4 pallets he got from the local co-op. You know, items in storage for 2 years - pallets to lift the boxes to avoid flooding, cedar chips between the pallets to ward off the bugs. I looked pretty hardcore with ski goggles, ear plugs, and the saw going off. Then, the work colleagues came to town and picked me up to go leaflet around a bad legislator's neighborhood - guerrilla warfare by freaking them out that we've flyered his whole district when really we just got the 4 surrounding blocks. Then, an evening work meeting for supporters in the area.

Today is a lot more mellow. Lay the pallets and cedar out, stack the boxes. Dad has earned the nickname Tetris - I need to show him the game so he gets more appreciation. He told a neighbor, as we were packing up the Uhaul to bring my stuff out here, that as the oldest son of 4 kids in a military family (his dad, my grandpa, could be a dick back then) it was his job to arrange all the suitcases in the station wagon for family trips. Now, he's an expert at fitting squares together. How that applies in retirement, I have no idea other than to help his daughter move.

We drove out to a small town to have lunch. Then, I got the skinny on bike trails and costs. There are a few nice ones along the Mississippi that I'll go for - good 10-25miles one way if I choose.

But it's a bit frustrating now. It's been years since my hormones have had to be inconvenienced. Wet dreams are starting and I'm waking up a bit frustrated. With both parents retired there's not a lot of private time at their house for me. I've noticed that they kind of bounce between the upstairs office/computer, the living room/reading, the kitchen/eating, the downstairs/tv, and mom into her "Ebay room." They are hoarders and it's getting a bit out of control so I'm not letting them keep much for the next 2 years. Nothing I have they really need or have missed. I was up late on Wednesday night watching their millions of cable channels (it's hard to skip the softcore porn - I want to watch b/c it's funny; or the Real Sex on HBO - I want to watch b/c it's interesting -- but my parents are right upstairs and despite the low volume anyone can make out moaning). All of a sudden a brown mouse ran out in front of the floor and ditched back into hiding.

Too much junk in their house. Too many boxes. Too much stuff.

And then there's me. I'm just trying to make it all work. I'm not junk yo. I'm temporary. This is all temporary. I can handle this. Repress the surge and swell of hormones in my brain working their way down to my young body. I'm too young and pretty to let a month of ripe sexuality and eager sensuousness go to waste, but alas, I just don't know how to go about scoring the quickie in a small town. I suppose it is Friday today.... Yeah, but how cheap am I?! After all, if I can wait just a little bit, Andy and I will rendezvous in a week and a day. All I have to do is repress and suppress. And, then, after that, all I have to do is wait 4 days for Minneapolis. And then after that, just a wait for Paris. And, let me tell you, I will be quick for finding there. But if I've not landed a bedmate, at least I'll have private time to wank myself off as I wish.

Things are good in semi-retirement land. There really are no complaints. The town is small but I'm not entirely bored. My parents aren't totally driving me crazy and I don't think I am them either.

I'm running low on time here in the wi-fi. I think I'll make it a habit to stop here though. Get some free space, some juice smoothie, some breathing space.