He’ll Always Be There

OM. The light switch. No sex clause. My toy.  Never again.

All of this is true.  All of this is false.  No matter how much I want that damn light switch to say the hell off it doesn’t want to stay off. It doesn’t like being in that position.  I hate this feeling of not wanting but wanting.

I got my toy from OM this past Tuesday.  (a  Doc Johnson, White Nights, 7″ Vibe, Waterproof, Velvet Touch, Muti-Speed for $12.67) He whipped it out, battery’d it up and turned it on.  I have to admit the actual sound of it is kind of embarassing.  It’s like you know that sound, you know what it means.  Something other than a human is taking care of my needs.  But in the few days I’ve had it, I’ve played w/ it every night to my heart’s content. 

I rather enjoyed holding it on my clit, moving it up and down my pussy lips as OM watched.  As he placed 1 sometimes 2 dildos in my cunt.  Or a few fingers.  I really loved when he placed his tongue right next to the vibrator on  my clit.  A man who’s not afraid to get his face close to a phallic toy is arousing. 

He said it’s not everyday you get to see a beautiful woman masterbate and I couldn’t help but think of his wife.  His wife should be doing this for him.  I know if he was my husband or even just a significant other there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him sexually.  But I’m like that w/ anyone I want to fuck, I like being open minded and rather enjoy the hell out of it.   And I was about to say he could see it everyday if he’d like.  He knows he has an open invitation to come see me.  Even tho that light switch is off, it’s still on when it comes to sexual things.   And him.

And it’s funny, I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle him coming over and just going  down on me, playing w/ my toys in me. I thought it’d frustrate me to no end like it did last time.  But I was okay w/ it all.  I’m amazed.  I thought for sure I’d be wanting to beg him to slide his cock inside me.  But I didn’t.  I even let him stay dressed. I even let him walk out my door while I held the vibrator on my clit for the other elusive orgasm I was straining for.  He understood.  He told me not to get up.  He left me w/ 2 kisses on my forehead.  (And you know how I am about him kissing me!)

And he told me not to forget about him.  How could I?  He’s the one I’ve been lusting after for the past 2 years.  I guess things like this don’t go away easily.  They put up a fight.  Fists up. Shoulders squared. Legs spread. Ready to do battle.  I think this, me being in lust, is gonna be around for quite some time.  Until he tells me no more.  Or until I want him so much I’ll go crazy w/ not having him.  But don’t worry, my middle name ain’t Stalker.

In Mourning

OM no longer works w/ me.  Now it’ll be few and far between that I see him.  Hell I may never see him again. 

It’s kinda sad him not working there anymore.  In essense he’s been my longest “relationship.”  I was kind of teary-eyed when he left Friday.  Altho he did say he’d call me later.  His later has yet to be defined. 

I’m sad.  Kind of depressed.  And yes, a little disappointed.  I can’t say that  I don’t want him to come over one last time and lick me till I scream and almost fall off the bed.  Again.

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.

The One Pump Wonder

Yes, that guy who is selfish and only thinks of himself and what will get him off is now back in my life and looking for sex.   The only reason he’s back is because he broke up w/ his girlfriend.  And of course, I’m the first girl he comes running back to.  And all because I’m willing to experiment w/ him.  And there’s some level of “respect” between us.  And because I wore my black robe for him. 

It’s downright ridiculous.  Everything in my life is getting downright ridiculous.  I have the OM who only wants to lick my cunt, finger my ass, and jerk off into my mouth.  I have the One I Crave who has just now started to maybe take me seriously.  And now this dumbass motherfucker who thinks his tiny pinky dick is something that gets me off.  

I guilted the latter man into sending me a picture of his dick the other night.  I didn’t bother to tell him I received it.  I was laughing too much because it’s sad.  I’m going to wonder if I’ll start receiving phone calls around 9:30-10:00 on Saturdays from him.  Because, ya know, I had to bring up the infrequency of our last exploits.  Which wasn’t often at all. I don’t even know if often is rightly defined for the lack of frequency we had.   But he said if we should start fucking again, I can possibly count on every Saturday.  During the weeks, meh, not going to happen.  (I am jumping for joy.)

Ok, so he also said that he realizes he should have participated more in our sexcapes instead of just laying back and letting me service him.  Which I did as soon as he walked in the door till he walked back out the door.   He kept saying that he didn’t know what I wanted, that he’d try to do something but I’d always brush his hands away.  Ya know, this is true.  I would do that, but it was a test.  One he failed miserably.  If he would have just taken charge, he would have gotten everything, EVERYTHING, he wanted plus some.

I just thought of this.  I had to explain to him about the last time he was over.   Remember that? He took off his own shirt.  His own shirt!  His! His own shirt!   He didn’t see anything wrong w/ that.   Imagine what I saw wrong w/ that.   Let’s imagine.  If he wanted to fuck me, and he did by what all was pouring from his mouth, he should have taken off my shirt.  My shirt!  Mine!  My shirt!   I had to fucking explain that to him.  This is where I bang my head on the table or any hard metal surface would do, because if you wanna fuck, why not take charge and rip the woman’s clothes off.  That right there would tell her you mean business.  Especially when said woman would probably rock your fucking world for taking charge like that.  (Especially when she told you she would!)  Hell I’d fuck him till his dick fell off if he even showed one iota of dominance.   

Will he ever take a chance? That’s not the question.  The question is: What’s better, his dick or an erotica book?  I’ll leave you guessing. 

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.

Why Beg?

It’s like a downward spiral.  And . . . I want to go downdowndown.  Today, I’ve looked at pictures that were taken back in 2003 of OM.  And all I can do is laugh.  Not hilariously.  Just laugh.  It’s so funny to think that I’m crushing, lusting hard after someone who I use to find irritatingly …. just argh!

But last night, I learned I suck at begging. 

He said he wanted to do a few things to me.  And I’m all for. . . ALL FOR . . . what he was getting at, but then I asked him if I could suck his dick.  I asked him if he wanted me to beg for it.   Totally the wrong thing to say.  Men are all for women begging.   Pleading.   I made a sad, pathetic attempt.   I  sent the email off w/ a shake of my head.  I was so ashamed.  Open mouth, insert foot.  Not cock, but foot. 

 . . . I suck at begging.  I’ve got no talent for it.  No real reason to do it.  I don’t find begging for anything. . . anything at all. . . worth it.  If a person won’t tell me something they don’t want to tell me, why would I beg?  If I won’t harass a person to tell me what they got me for Christmas, why should I beg?   Nothing is worth begging for.  Not even to suck a guy’s dick.

If I want to do that. . . . I will. 

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?