It’s Off. And Staying Off.

The lightswitch is off.  Completely.  Even thru his hidden innuendos and shameless flirting and touching.  It’s off.  There’s nothing there anymore.  And he just bought me a toy.  I’m assuming it’s a vibrating toy.  He’s suppose to call me later so he can come over and give it to me, but I won’t be home tonight.  I actually have plans. 

Something about the no BJ rule got to me.  I can’t handle not being able to do what I want.  Oh and that not so little no fucking rule.  It frustrates me to not be able to fuck.  Especially since that’s what I like best.  So why should I get all frustrated when I’m not going to get what I want in the end?!  It’s just not worth it.

He’s still attractive to me, but I don’t want to be pampered by his tongue anymore.  . . . . Unless, of course, I get fucked sometime soon…Then maybe I’ll just want it to be about me.   Who am I kidding, fucking is ALL ABOUT ME!

****Update: he never bothered to call this past weekend.  Instead he’s now saying he’ll bring it by or get it to me sometime this week.  I’m seriously thinking of ways I can avoid being home.  That way I won’t be lying to him when I say I’m going to be busy.   He really shouldn’t have bought me the toy.  It’s not something I need.  Or actually want.    Especially if I have to use it first w/ him.****

This Can’t Be Happening!

This just in. . . . OM loves blow jobs.  But………… Yes, my god there’s a fucking but……… damn shame.  Blow jobs are in his “no sex” clause.   Evidently, I can suck and lick on his balls, but placing that nice fucking cock in my mouth is a no go.  

Oh holy fuck.  Ya know, that kind of pisses me off, especially since I was just getting back into wanting to give head….And w/out receiving anything for my attentions.  

I was actually starting to daydream.  Inviting him over.  Getting him thru the door, then either a.) dragging him into my bedroom, get him comfy on the bed, then strip him from the waist down, and go to down on his dick; or b.) tear his pants off at the door and get on my knees and lick, suck till my heart’s content or till he explodes in my mouth. 

But NO…. Fuck NO it ain’t going to happen.   My only hope is that I wear him down.  But there’s no fucking way of that.  Oh it’s just so fucking aggravating. 

That DAMN Light Switch!

“It turns off, turns on, gets stuck in the middle and the light flickers.”  It’s fucking flickering.  And it’s driving me absolutely fucking mad.   More on this  in a minute.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder is a load of fucking crap.  Except for the in the case of the OIC, altho, lately I’ve come to learn, I don’t like him ignoring me.  I don’t like him taking me “seriously.” Actually, I’ve come to loathe that word w/ a passion and I hope someone kills it.   With OIC, his being MIA isn’t making me fonder, nor is being out of sight making him out of mind.  But that’s neither here nor there.

As for the lousy lay I call the OPW, I think one Saturday of not answering my phone has cured him of his irrational need to waste a couple minutes of my day.

And along the lines of those who come back into my life, Eagles has become public enemy #1.   Ok, well my public enemy #1.  I am about to hurt him, if I could ever get my hands on him.  Which ok, will be never. So I guess my dreams of serious physical harm will never come to fruition.  He’s been giving me the run around and I’m getting sick of it, as you can see.  And I’m getting tired of his laid back view of us meeting.  It’ll happen when it happens.   Ha!  I don’t think so.  I don’t think I’ll ever meet him and ya know, I’m “seriously” okay w/ that. Honest.  I’m not even physically attracted to the man, but I know he’s okay w/ how I look which makes him the best candidate to fuck me silly.   After he made me a promise he doesn’t intend to keep because he’s “not perfect,” well, I don’t know if I want him in my life as anything, let alone a lover.

Ok, so back to this damn light switch that’s on the fritz.  It’s been almost a month since OM has had his head between my legs giving me the severe tongue lashing I so deserve.   In my mind, since it’s been so long, I came to the conclusion that what happened wasn’t happening again, and I became okay w/ that.  Him and I, just friends.  Nuff said.  The light switch actually turned off.  For a couple weeks, I actually didn’t have anyone to fantasize about before falling asleep.  It was frustrating, but freeing.   But then last Friday, he made some damn comments and that damn light switch turned on again.

On. . . . Again.   But then quickly got turned back off.   But then today.  Turned. Back. On.  It’s his fucking fault.  Actually it’s my fucking fault for lusting after his ass so fucking much.  And it’s all because of his blue eyes.  His white unbuttoned collared dress shirt/blue dress pants.  His soft fuzzy hair.  His white chin stubble.  The way he fucking walks, for Christ’s sake!  It’s his fucking fault! And then I get home to find an email that he sent last night.  That I would have gotten last night if I would have thought he’d email me again.   But I didn’t, because of what I thought!  Arggghhhhhh. 

So we’re back to him wanting to eat my pussy.  And if…. IF…. there is a next time, I’m wrapping my lips around his dick!  But I’m not counting on it.

Wanted: Pleasant Soreness, Again.

In a previous email sent Thursday to me OM inquired as to whether or not I’d be home Friday night.  The answer was an affirmative.  And he asked “I can eat your pussy too if you would like?”  That was another affirmative answer, along w/ a however.  I told him I’m shy, I can’t make first moves.  He said that wouldn’t be a problem.  So Thursday night I was lucky enough to be able to get to sleep at a decent time, but I remained nervous and anxious thru out the night and into Friday….All the way until he was here.   And then I was okay, but a little nervous wondering if he’d actually want to go thru w/ it.

He did I found out about an hour or so after he was here.  But prior to that,  we were bullshitting.  Except he finally told me when he came to think of me in a sexual nature.  He said it’s because I spoke of sex w/ him.  I was a little shocked, because well – - – we talked about sex often . . . And at work, at that.   I guess he never really thought that I wouldn’t mind doing things of a sexual nature w/ him.   I guess our talks of sex had to be one on one, w/ nobody else around for him to grasp that  what I was always saying to him, was something I’d like to do w/ him.  (Don’t know if that made sense, but it does to me, I suppose.)  So anyways.  We talked about our sexual conversations and he clarified for me that he meant for him traditional sex was too emotionally/feelings involved for him.  (I’m wondering if the only sex he ever had was when he was in relationships?)  So he understands me, that I can have sex w/out getting attached.  

So the lights are blazing as we’re sitting around the table and he finally realizes that the light above is flickering and has been for quite some time.  So I turn it off and proceed to turn on the other light I always use.  He stands up and just walks around for a minute and then looks at me as I’m about to sit back down and he grabs my hand.   He says, “Well, since I have to make the  first move, I’m doing it.”  Ok……………*Internal screaming here*  He walked me into my bedroom, said the light coming from the living room was enough to see by and told me to take off my clothes.  I did that, he took off some of  his.  Told me to prop myself up on the bed…. He gets on the bed w/ me.  I spread my legs and the next thing I know his fingers are spreading my pussy lips.   Then I feel his tongue. 

And what a nice fucking tongue he has!  And such nice fucking fingers too!  And a dirty mouth!  All quite wonderful things!   And I even happen to like his cock.  Altho, I didn’t really get to suck on it, nor did I get to touch it the way I really want to.  But I did get to suck on his balls and swallow his come. 

I don’t really know exactly how long he was eating and fingering me but  I do know it was for over an hour and a half.  And my pussy knows it too because I have that slightly sore feeling down there.  And every time I feel that slightly sore feeling, I smile.  

He said he’d be back the next day and he’d bring along a vibrator.  He never called but I did get an email giving his excuse of having to take his daughter somewhere and then picking her up.  He didn’t say when he’d be able to come over next.  I get the feeling he won’t be over again and I’m not heartbroken or upset about it.  In fact, I kind of feel that’s how it was going to be anyways.   I don’t think I mind.  I had my fun, not complete fun, but I got to find out what it feels like to run my fingers thru his hair.  What his mouth feels like on my pussy and my legs.  What his cock looks like and his come tastes like.  I guess I got almost everything I was lusting after.  So in a way, I’ m satisfied. 

Giddy, Wetness Because of a Shirt? A Shirt??

Monday OM came back to work from being off for the better part of the previous week due to sickness.  And upon his return he just happen to be wearing something I find extremely attractive on a man.  Something of the working stiff kind.   A dressy white button down shirt. . . tucked into navy blue dress pants.   The pants can be pretty much anything . . . but it’s the shirt… My god is it the shirt!

Now, I haven’t received an email from him since  early last week, even tho I tried to find out how he was when he was off.  So I was kinda thinking along the, “oh, he’s not interest anymore. . . His wife and him are back on better terms. . . yadda yadda yadda.”  And then I emailed him Monday night to let him know that  I liked what he was wearing during the  day and that there is something extremely sexy about unbuttoned collars (on dress shirts.)   Tuesday he didn’t wear anything but the usual sweater over a polo, so I figured he didn’t get my email.  Now last night, he emailed me about the white dress shirt, but I didn’t get it till today – no idea he read it . . . But I had an inkling when I saw him today wearing another white button down shirt w/ black dress pants.   My face was beaming.  I had a smile from ear to ear.   I couldn’t help but feel completely giddy for the rest of the day; that he possibly wanted me to be happy.  And happy I was.  Altho, when I read the email he sent me last night today, I guess he wanted me to be more than just happy. . . He wanted something else . . . And he got it.  Oh yeah, he got it.

OM: I just got done ironing another white shirt for tomorrow.  Your pussy should be wet all day

He got his wish . . . And I’m getting mine for Friday.  Yes, I made a request of him.  He has this black suede button down shirt that he wears w/ jeans and lets it untucked.   He knows that I’m into textures. I love feeling things.  Like his coat. I didn’t think about it until after I told him I like the feel of it, but the more I do, the more it reminds me of a man’s cock.  Soft and silky.  Minus the hardness, but soft and silky nonetheless.   This is what his black suede shirt reminds me of too.  Kind of.  But I won’t really know until I touch it.  Touch him. While he’s wearing it.  And I think he knows him wearing it is going to make me itchburnyearn to touch it.  I even told him I’ll have to touch him.  I just hope he doesn’t think I need something soft on him to actually touch him.  Because I’m sure I could find something about his body that will satisfy my need for touch. 

**********

On a side note: I’ve been sitting here after reading that email, thinking.  I’ve had dreams about kissing him.  And I would love nothing more than to feel his lips on mine, his tongue delving into my mouth, trading breath for breath.  But, I don’t think I could handle it.  I know if I ever kissed him, I wouldn’t want to stop.  I don’t know if I’m scared he won’t live up to his dream self.  Or if he’ll totally surpass it.  Wow, I wouldn’t be able to handle that.   Because kissing, kissing leads to so many other things.  I don’t feel a Pretty Woman is needed, because I don’t feel that kissing is personal/private, shared between lovers.  

But because I’d want to feel his cock sliding in between my pussy lips, like his tongue sliding in between my other lips.  But he’s already said that sex was out of the question between us.  (However, having him lick my pussy and ass is totally not.  Nor is his dick in my mouth.  Or his come.)  He said sex between us would lead to feelings. His or mine, I’m not sure…And, I tried to make him believe me that I’m not wired that way . . . But, I don’t know.  I don’t want to just settle for his tongue on my clit, in my cunt.  I don’t want to just settle for his dick on my tongue, in my mouth.   I don’t want to just settle for tasting his come w/ out being able to taste my pussy juice on him. 

I know, I’m a pushy, greedy broad.

Dear Lord in Heaven, I’m Going to Hell

I asked a random question of the One I Crave because I knew he’d give me the answer I wanted, and also because he’s not the jealous sort.  Is it wrong to want to fuck a married man, who is a co-worker and old enough to be my dad?   His answer: If it feels good, do it!  Amen! (<—that’s mine!)

So for the past weekend and a half, the Older Man (OM) and I have been emailing each other at our home addresses.  Sometimes we’re spot on and can get a few emails to each other in an hour.  Other times, we miss each other and it’s here and there, kinda frustrating.  I usually want a response back quickly to what I have to say.  I want immediate gratification.  But I’m willing to wait, because sometimes it’s nice to have a smile on my face at random hours of the day because of him. 

It’s strange to be emailing him at his home.  Especially since he has to share the computer w/ his wife and daughter.   I kinda wish he’d get a messenger service, it would be so much easier to talk to him then.  But do I really want it to be that easy?  I keep thinking bad things would happen then.  His wife would get that feeling and put a spy ware thingy on the computer. . . I just don’t need that.

But at the same time, I keep thinking that maybe that link I gave him to give to his wife is making her think.  Making her think of: polyamory.  Because well, they did go to Jamacia.  And she was doing some looking, that I hear.  And it was permissible.  Too bad he didn’t tell me if he actually let her participate, cuz that would make everything that’s been going on for the past week and a half so much easier on me.  Especially last night’s conversation. 

Two hours just to pretty much say in way too many words: I want to fuck you!  The only thing actually keeping me from taking him serious is the fact that fucking was never alluded to.  Fucking, the word, was never used. It was just plain tongue lashings, ass spanking, and some hair pulling.   And he managed to slip in there (no pun intended)  that he has (had) a hard dick.

Yes, I mentioned that touching a hard dick makes my pussy do the tingle.  Granted the one and only time that ever happened was w/ the One I Crave. But he didn’t need to know that.  But I did mention that kissing, having my fingers sucked on, and my neck being bitten has that same effect. . . Too bad he just latched onto the one that has only happened once.  But my god.  I see in pink neon flashing lights: “Wellll, I have a hard dick…:-)”  Blink Blink Blinkity Blink.   And I get a huge grin on my face.  How could I not?   

Today at work. . . The first time we talked in the morning, my face was burning. Bright red.  (Like he was telling me last night how my ass would be.)   My god, I was embarrassed.  Then as the day progressed, I got better.  I could look him in the eye and we could hold our usual conversations.  But we did mention some things spoken about last night.  And I put on my little smirk of, “If only.”

I feel guilty.  I feel like I should be going to hell.  But at the same time, I’m going to hell w/ a smile on my face.  Even if the fucking never happens, well, I’ll still be smiling cuz this is all great.  I just can’t believe he’s doing this.  His wife at home.  His daughter  sleeping.   (Oh and that random midafternoon email.)  And yet, I don’t feel guilty.  I’ve done it before.  I’ve fucked other married men.  No care or thought towards his  family.  My only concern was having a dick inside me.   And . . . . I’m not the one who’s cheating.  I guess that’s how I can rationalize this. 

So maybe, just maybe. . . .

Single For A Day

I was suppose to go over the the Older Man’s house this weekend.  Not for any kind of hanky panky that I would enjoy but to look at a table he is offering to give me, if I want it.  He said his wife and daughter were going away for the day so that made him “Single for a Day.”  I enjoyed hearing that.  And he said it w/ a smile.

I told him to come over to my place to check out the paint job I did, since he didn’t get to see it last time he was here, which was over a month ago… Almost 2 months, I think.   And well, he said he’d come over after I came over to his place.  It didn’t happen, don’t know if the family didn’t go away for the day, he got to caught up in cleaning, or he just plain forgot?!  But no fantasies got to play thru my head while I was in his company, (cuz I wasn’t.)   

Anyways.  A few days ago, I ran my hand down his jacket sitting on the back of his chair at work and said that I like the feel of it.  And he remembered that I told him I’m a touchy feely kind of girl.  So he went and put his arm thru the coat, and ooooo, I almost went back and touched it, but instead I just said, “Tempting.”  Which it is, but calling him a tease would have been so much better.   He is a tease!

Ok, so lets tangent over here:

A couple years ago, he said he’d invite all of us over to his place to have a backyard BBQ when his wife was away for the week.  It never happened but it did start my fantasizing about him.  That started it all.  I fantasized about me staying after everyone left to help him clean up.  About me sitting on the counter while he put dishes away or whatever.  Him walking up to me, standing in between my legs.  Him kissing me.  (For some ungodly known reason, I really really want to kiss that man.  I don’t care if we ever have sex, but damnit, I really want to kiss him! Maybe it’s because all the dreams I have involving him, he’s always kissing me? And they’re always such great kisses!)   Then we move to the living room.  He sits in a plush arm chair, and instead of me sitting on the couch, I sit on his lap.  And we talk, we kiss, and eventually I end up straddling him,  his hand is beneath my skirt moving my underwear to the side, fingering me.  My hands are working the button and zipper of his pants.   He takes off my shirt, he sucks on my nipples… Gently bites them.  And I grab his cock out of his pants and position it so I can slowly slide down his length.  After that, I wake up, cuz you know – - – - It’s only a fucking dream!  Arrgggggghhh!!!

So maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t get to be near him while he was “Single for a Day.”  Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t go over to his place, I might have been tempted to sit on his counter-top and wish him standing between my legs, his face coming closer and closer to mine.   Maybe it’s a good thing?

I Don’t Ask for Much

So O called me the other day from a phone number I wasn’t aware of.  I answered and I get,  “Hello, how are you? What are you doing?”  I, of course, answer skeptically, because I had no frikkin clue who the hell it was.  He told me to take a guess.  I said, “Why don’t you just tell me.”  He said it was ‘your favorite boy from Kansas.’  After that, it was hit or miss on what I heard of the actual conversation.  I know he was on his way to his friends house.  Just from him telling me, plus the road noise, since he was using his bluetooth.  (Those fuckers pick up everything!!)  I know he said he’s been meaning to call me.  And I think he might have been hinting at something.  Although, I’m not quite sure.

 I told him I was moving next weekend.  Because he asked what I was doing that night, and I said packing.  So I told him where I was moving to, and then I proceeded to say that I was never ever going to move out of that place.  I was going to live there forever.  (Which is my plan!)  He said not even if some guy came over w/ a buff ass body cuz he worked out for 2-3 hours a day wearing nothing but black Calvin Klein boxer briefs and asked me to move somewhere w/ him?  I had to pause. 

In my other post about O, I mentioned loving black boxer briefs.  And well, back in the day I actually bought O 2 pairs of Calvin Klein boxer briefs.   And well, he wasn’t buff or nothing, but maybe he was hinting at what he looks like now? It has been around 7 years since I’ve actually seen him. He could have changed.   Or maybe he now thinks that I like men who are muscle bound and aren’t flexible?  That doesn’t truely appeal to me.

What appeals to me physically in a man is this: his eyes, his lips, his neck, and his fingers.  And in that order, because I usually check out a man starting at the top.  In which case,  I kind of hope I have to look way up to start there.  Ok, so nothing over 6’4” because then sex is just awkward.  And unkind.   Around 6-ish’  is good for me. 

His eyes either have to be blue (any shade, sometimes) or some really, really funky shade, like amber or grey.  Maybe glow in the dark kind.   I can’t stand green eyes or shit brown eyes.  And to me, any shade of brown is shit brown.  I have an almost fetish when it comes to eyes.

His lips have to be full.  None of that thin lipped crap.  I like to be able to feel what I’m kissing.  I like to nibble on bottom lips also, so it helps to have something there.  I don’t necessarily want to hurt him and it’d be nice to have some padding.   Top and bottom lips should be of equal thickness, but I’ll budge on the top lip.

His neck has to be muscular.  It has to look good w/ a chain around it.  Or a button down shirt.  I like em thick.  I like em semi long.  I like to be able to look at it and go, “Oh yeah, that would look great w/ my bite mark on it!”   I want to be able to put my hands around it not have them touch.  A not so noticeable Adam’s apple would be great, too.

His fingers.  The longer the better.  The thicker the better.  Do not confuse thick w/ chubby.  I like to see fingers and know that’s exactly what they are.  I like them to be rough,  callused. I like a man who works w/ his hands.  Knows his way around cars.  Can tinker w/ things to fix them.  A regular MacGyver.   I like dirty hands.  But at the same time, I like those dirty hands to look clean when they’re suppose to, not terminally dirty.

His body has never been a top priority in my adventures of finding a perfect man.  I’ve always been into men who are slightly overweight.  Or as I put it: A man w/ meat on his bones.    I can’t stand a man who is their ideal BMI, to me they look they need fed.  I like that healthy look. 

So muscle bound men can just keep moving along.  And men w/ a little pudge, please park your butt on my couch.  Well, as long as you have blue eyes, full lips, a thick neck,  and long, strong fingers.  (And medium to dark brown hair.)  Ok, and numerous tattoos helps, too!

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