Nope, not happy
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Posted:May 30, 2016 1:23 pm
Last Updated:May 30, 2016 5:46 pm
5339 Views
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For all the determination
That I'd do well to be rid of you
I know it's false bravado
I can't believe you haven't called by now
Whether you should or you shouldn't
Somehow would and could
and may and might
got stuck in my head
He will call, I keep thinking
Let him get to a stopping point
Give him a moment to breathe
He will call
But you didn't
And you haven't
And maybe I guess you even won't
And it makes me sad to think
Our goodbyes went unspoken
Just presumed
And it's even sadder still
To think I wouldn't care
To think I wouldn't want to hear from you
To think that I'm as happy
To be through with you as that
When in fact I'm not very happy at all
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3
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Maybe Just One More Time
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Posted:May 29, 2016 6:54 pm
Last Updated:Jun 2, 2016 9:09 am
5770 Views
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I really wish you would call me right about now
No, I don't want to yell at you
Though I would love to know what you were thinking
Didn't you care that you might get caught
Didn't you know you were playing with fire
I hate to have to say this
But I miss you
And I will continue to miss you
For I fear I've heard the last of you
And I believe it'll be for the best
I wanted to talk to you
One last time
To get your side of the story
But it wouldn't be one last time
We'd carry on with these conversations
Once so seemingly open but now quite clandestine
And we'd plan to meet
And then we'd wind up tangled up together
And the cycle would never end
So it's best that we never speak again
No matter how much I miss you
No matter how much I'd love to hear your voice just one last time.
Again...
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1
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Well, I guess that's that
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Posted:May 27, 2016 5:16 pm
Last Updated:May 30, 2016 5:49 pm
7009 Views
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I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It turns out that Mike from my story from last weekend is married. And though I know that spouses and even ex spouses can still be territorial after a separation or a divorce, he's evidently not as unattached as he led me to believe. I suppose that was really the reason that he didn't want his story being written. I don't get it, though. My story of our evening would have been an anonymous tale. How would it have been tied back to him? But I don't get lots of things. Like why he texted me with his wife clearly lurking over his shoulder. Why would he text me at all? He never even hesitated when it came to giving me his number. He never once said not to use it before or during or after a certain time. There were never any ground rules. Isn't that what a cheater does? Don't cheaters insist upon ground rules? Don't they insist upon the utmost discretion? Hell, the only thing he was concerned about was that I was in the moment with him and that I really wanted to be with him. He wanted to be sure that I wasn't merely there for a story opportunity. And maybe that was his true concern. Maybe he was just a lonely husband away from home, wishing his wife was as attentive as the young woman who was sitting and then lying beside him. The truth is that I want to tell the story even more now. Not because I want to be vindictive, but as a way of reliving a sweet, sweet night that will likely never be repeated.
I had met him online. He was in town for work. I'd actually hung out with him earlier in the day. And he invited me back that evening. As tired as he was and as early as his flight was leaving the next morning, he insisted upon my return. We agreed on an hour. I stayed for more than two. We sat on the couch in his hotel room until he looked at me and said can we go in the other room and not be fresh. Can we behave and not do anything worth blogging about? And we walked into the other room, and I sprawled across the bed. And I said fine; you can rub my back. And he did. He was attentive and polite. And hands did wander, and fingers did roam, and kisses were exchanged, and body parts were exposed, but all in all, it was far more about communication than a prelude to sex. He even said he wanted us to have something to look forward to on a future visit, though I guess maybe everything but actual sex created far less guilt. In retrospect, maybe foreplay of any kind could be excused or forgotten, but penetrating me was a sin he couldn't allow or accept.
Nevertheless, we didn't go too far. I went home that night looking forward to more of his kisses. I looked forward to more of his playful manhandling that left my backside red and made such a delightful sound. I looked forward to his large hands grabbing my wrists to stop my hands from traveling where he wasn't yet ready for them to go. I looked forward to him asking before his hands traveled to the next place. Yes, he asked hopefully. Yes, I responded almost desperately. Adding please on more than one occasion. Our voices becoming more breathless with each exchange. I looked forward to his cock filling places that his fingers had searched. I looked forward to hearing him say again how beautiful I was and how soft my skin was when my shirt came off and he saw and touched my breasts. I looked forward to more nights of and playful fingertips. I looked forward to seeing him again in the future and sharing many moments together, talking and laughing and touching long into the night.
But today I discovered that he's not so single after all. And though I may hear from him again, things will likely never happen the way I truly believed they might when I walked out of his hotel room one beautiful moonlit night. And the truth is, though I don't want to be part of anybody's family drama, I don't feel any anger or ill will towards him. I just feel kind of sad. I feel sad for his wife. But I feel sad for him because for the one evening that I spent with him but also for all the phone calls and text messages, he just seemed so happy to have someone who was willing to talk to him and answer his questions and laugh with him, and I just get the feeling that he really is a lonely unhappy man, who was grateful to just have someone pay attention to him.
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5
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Trying out the couch
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Posted:May 27, 2016 11:35 am
Last Updated:Jun 1, 2016 5:50 pm
6605 Views
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Trying out the couch
I work midnights in an assisted living facility. It's actually an apartment complex my company acquired nearly a decade ago, and there are 16 separate apartments. The office apartment is in the center basically, and the 15 other units are for the residents. I have a coworker, but every once in a while, I work alone. And I enjoy it. It's peaceful unless one of my guys is in some sort of distress. The office is set up like a regular apartment in both the kitchen and living room areas. There is a kitchen table and chairs, and there's a couch and chairs, a coffee table, and a flat screen television. The back rooms are are where the work takes place. But the living room is like my own personal space when I'm there alone. I've often considered inviting people over. Well, let me rephrase that. I have often invited people over, but rarely has anyone ever actually taken me up on it. That was until last night. I have been chatting with someone who lives an hour or so away for the last few weeks. We've talked about meeting in person since the beginning, but our schedules never aligned. And I haven't really wanted to drive to see him, nor can I play host for him to come see me. So I invited him to work sometime. And sometime happened at around two this morning. It was our first actual face to face meeting. It was ridiculous and awkward initially, but then the clothes came off.
I straddled him on the couch. The very couch where we all sit and try to forget we are actually at work. I straddled him on the couch where my guys sit and wait for meds. I worried the couch would break from the pressure, possibly never experiencing such movement before. The squeaking and dragging of wooden legs growing louder and faster in time with our bodies. It was hurried, but it didn't matter. I came within a matter of seconds it seemed. His hands on my ass and his mouth on my tits and the danger and thrill of possibly being caught driving me to an almost instant orgasm. He wasn't too far behind. His breath soon deepened, his hands gripping my shoulders, pulling me harder and faster over his excited cock. "Keep fucking me" he whispered loudly as I rode him to ecstasy. Soon the movement stopped. The couch stopped making noises and to my relief, it didn't break in two.
As he was preparing to leave he asked me when I might have the office to myself also. Soon, I told him. And now that I know the couch could survive such activity, I might have to extend the invitation with greater frequency, allowing my place of work to truly become my home away from home.
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8
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If you were still all that I wanted
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Posted:May 24, 2016 10:39 pm
Last Updated:May 25, 2016 10:50 am
6493 Views
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I have spent more time over the last eight or nine years being hung up on someone who likes me but also didn't want what I wanted. I dated plenty over the years, well, some anyway, but always there was the idea of wanting him. Of waiting for him. Until one day I finally realized he knew how to find me. He could make the first move just as easily as I could. So I gave him the opportunity, and then I walked away. Finally realizing that waiting for him was nothing more than a crutch. As long as I stood there with the door open to him, I could say I was open and looking, but I was really just standing there with an open door to someone who was always walking toward it, but never actually walked through.
It would be so much easier
If I still only wanted you
Even if you continued to hold me at bay
Even if you never wanted me
I'd sit here silently wanting you
In my place
If you were all I dreamed about
These dreams would be sufficient
These lingering desires
Would carry me through
Dark days when all I had was hope
But I want so much more than your offerings
And I need so much more than you're willing
To give
And your indifference has thrusted me
Back into a world of intimate strangers
Of lust and fantasy
Of all that can be seen but still unknown
Life was simpler when all I wanted was you
So much simpler
Quieter
confining
Lonely
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2
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Life on the highway
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Posted:May 24, 2016 3:58 pm
Last Updated:Jun 8, 2016 12:39 pm
6775 Views
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Highway 17 is the main road in Myrtle Beach. Anything worth doing in Myrtle Beach takes place on highway 17. There is a big joke about it among locals, having something to do with it being impossible to get lost; you just turn around and go in the opposite direction from wherever you happen to be, and you will find what you are seeking. I kind of feel like I'm on highway 17 right now, even though I'm in Birmingham, Alabama driving around Highway 280, a foodie and shopper's paradise. I have spent more time on 280 in the last few days than In the previous several years combined. I met up with a new friend on 280 twice this past Sunday. Yesterday, I basically interviewed a guy on 280 who has been interested in the idea of messing around with me and a guy friend of mine, an experimental scenario I refer to as "more for me," and that was after having breakfast with a friend at a restaurant just off of 280. Today, I am going to meet someone new at the mall, once again on 280. With the exception of Sunday's events, these meetings are completely hit or miss. Sometimes plans don't turn out the way I expect them to. Sometimes I look at someone's picture or talk to someone over the phone and think maybe we will have chemistry, and then we meet and discover we have none. Sometimes I even know ahead of time that we are not going to have any chemistry, but I'm too stupid to extricate myself from the situation. Maybe I'm just too polite, and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. The truth of the matter is that I'm looking for new adventures. I'm looking for someone to become important to me or maybe to help me forget someone else who already is important to me, someone who decided I wasn't all that important to him. I'm looking for a good time. I'm looking for a real time. I'm looking to make time and to do something that matters in the grand scheme of things. It seems this stretch of road has become an integral part of my happiness. These meetings on 280, both fruitful and disappointing, set the tone for the days and weeks ahead. Whether there is joy in my future or solitude is decided by my trips up and down a road that never mattered much to me before. But this afternoon I decided that I'm tired. There has been a great deal of chasing happiness but not a whole lot of return on my investment. However, I have noticed that happiness has a way of creeping up on you anyway. Whether you chase it or sit still, things that you are meant to find have a way of finding you.
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4
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Not one for the books
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Posted:May 23, 2016 5:18 am
Last Updated:May 26, 2016 5:15 am
6478 Views
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When I first started writing about my love life, long before I actually even had one, it was all about emotions and feelings and wants and needs. As the years past, the emotions and feelings still existed, but I also started writing about the physical contact. Sometimes, even, physical contact was all there was. And it certainly isn't to say that these things were merely for sport or for the writing opportunity, but there are times when we are all a bit animalistic. There are times when our body is in need and our heart and mind are sleeping. Of course, I like it best when all parts of my body are engaged, but that doesn't necessarily make it to print.
I recently met someone who asked me not write about him. Though a beautiful story could be written based on our first conversations and brief meetings, he said it was important for him to know he was more than just a story to be written. He wanted to know that I was not writing the story as I spent time in his company. The truth is that I have excellent recall. I could be totally in the moment and still remember everything that happened much later. I can remember the touches and kisses and words and laughter without having to write the story as it happens. Nevertheless, in the interest of maintaining a budding friendship or whatever else this comes to be, you won't be reading this particular story of an hour or two from me.
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2
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No, Nevermind
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Posted:May 22, 2016 5:36 pm
Last Updated:May 26, 2016 5:10 am
6489 Views
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I posted earlier about a meeting I had with a guy who was here in Birmingham for the golf tournament. We actually hung out this afternoon during his lunch break and he actually called me and texted me throughout the afternoon and we were supposed to have dinner or some other sort of meeting this evening after the tournament was over. He texted me right at 6 o'clock and said that he was so ready to get out of there. And then I didn't hear from him again. So it just seems that he was just looking for some entertainment while he was actually at the tournament, but wasn't really looking to spend any actual time with me outside of it. And it's fine, really. I mean, in a way I kind a looked forward to having a little bit of fun with him, but what if we actually hit it off? Then what? I would patiently wait for and look forward to the next event that brings him close to Birmingham? No, it's just better this way. With him disappearing like a thief in the night. And without me having to lose my pride or dignity, believing I just wasn't good enough or pretty enough or fun enough to hold his attention. It's just easier knowing I never really held his interest rather than to have held it and lost it. That's painful. I know. I'm still reeling from that with the last guy. No. This isn't painful. Just mildly disappointing.
So, this isn't how the evening ended, lol. This is how I felt the story was going to end, and so I'm going to leave the posting as it was originally written since I believe it's a good way to write about what happens in the mind of a woman. It encompasses a lot of things a woman goes through when she is feeling sad or lonely or insecure.
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3
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I didn't see that coming
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Posted:May 22, 2016 11:49 am
Last Updated:May 23, 2016 9:41 am
7477 Views
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I met him online the other day. He is in Birmingham filming the Regions golf tournament. I'm gathering that it's the local leg of the PGA Tour, but what do I know from golf? As a friendly gesture, he offers to give me tickets to the tournament for the final day if I want them. He says he will leave them at the front desk of his hotel so all I have to do is go and pick them up. I even agreed that we could meet for dinner on Sunday evening, regardless of whether I used the tickets or not. He seems like a nice guy, and he clearly enjoys talking to me since we've already spoken on the phone a few times, so what's a dinner between friends?
I wake up this morning feeling out of sorts. I could really use a stabilizing force in my life. I think even a hug would go a long way in helping me. I can't decide if I want to go to the tournament or just hide under the covers. All of a sudden, I receive a phone call from him; he is on his lunch break from the tournament. He asks if I want to come out and meet him. Well, I hadn't gone to pick up the tickets yet, so I'm thinking I'll drive over there to see him and get the tickets, too. He's going to get something to eat and then go back to his hotel room to relax for the duration of his break, so I agree to just meet him over there. I'm sure it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but he's really only got an hour before he has to go back to work, and what is he going to do? Kill me in his hotel room and clean up after himself all within an hour's time? So I get to his room, and we stand in the middle of the room awkwardly talking, and then we sit down and talk some more. He offers to let me try on his blue button down, a standard joke among people who like my pictures since there is one posted of me wearing a men's dress shirt. I'm tempted. It's my signature move now. It's my version of the notch on the belt. Visit a man, wear his shirt, take a picture. He tells me afterward that he only suggested it to watch me squirm. I didn't squirm, but I did imagine the ramifications of putting on his shirt. I think of standing in front of this stranger in the middle of the hotel room, removing my own clothing, putting on his button down, all while he stands there watching me. The time flies by, and he has to leave to go back to the golf course. I stand up to leave, he goes to hug me goodbye, and the next thing I know, I'm standing there with my back to him and he is massaging my shoulders and my neck and running his hands through my hair. The massage hurts, but the hands in my hair feel amazing. And I tell him so, and he grabs up my hair again, leans my head to the side, and starts kissing my neck. And then he spins me around and kisses me some more. My back is up against the door; my hands are held in his. His tongue and mine start doing a little dance of their own. But we both know he has to leave, and we both know that the seduction, as fun as it seems, is not going to go any farther. At least for now. But he has one more night in his hotel room before he flies out to New York tomorrow morning. The question remains, though, does he invite me over or has he already had enough of me. The ringing phone on my drive home tells me I haven't heard the last of him. I'm definitely feeling much better about things than I was earlier this morning.
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11
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Today's blurb.
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Posted:May 21, 2016 5:33 am
Last Updated:May 24, 2016 4:03 am
6129 Views
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Based on a chat with a friend...
69 position is a metaphor for a relationship. It's all about providing mutual pleasure that resituates over time based on the needs of the partner.
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3
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Is it really too much to ask?
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Posted:May 20, 2016 9:57 am
Last Updated:May 25, 2016 4:15 am
6076 Views
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Yes, I want you
Yes, I want to soak up everything
Your mind and your body have to offer
You can rule me with your deep voice
And strong hands
And beguile me with your beautiful cock
But I know to you it means no more
Than a meaningless fuck
But I'm a big girl
I can risk the potential heartache
That being fucked by you might bring
It doesn't stop me from wanting you
From wanting to explore your body
Knowing I'm nothing more to you
Than a tight pussy is worth it to me
when you push yourself deep inside
If you send me home
At the end of the night
I would put on my clothes and go
If You asked me to stay
And to come back repeatedly
I would do so
No questions asked
No promises expected
No delusions believed
I've been with your kind before
I know what you're offering
It's a deal I can accept
So is it just too much to ask
For you to stop worrying what I am thinking
and to take me home to fuck me
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2
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Desire
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Posted:May 19, 2016 4:30 pm
Last Updated:May 19, 2016 5:27 pm
5597 Views
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Desire
I've been out for coffee dates
And lunch dates
And sex dates
And made more friends
Than some people do in a lifetime
But still I find myself thinking of you
I check my phone to see if you've called
And search for messages of every kind
We haven't spoken in days
At least we haven't said anything significant
But it doesn't matter
I can't explain it
I don't understand it
I don't even like it
But I know it to be so
I can try to avoid it
But try as I might
I still want you
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1
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So, let's talk...or not
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Posted:May 18, 2016 5:09 pm
Last Updated:May 19, 2016 4:49 pm
6066 Views
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Today I went on a lunch date. I clearly felt very comfortable with my companion. I was super chatty. Now, I won't lie. I love to talk, and when I'm passionate about a particular subject matter, I'm pretty excitable...picture Ron Horshack from Welcome Back Kotter. Whatever! You know you watched reruns just like I did. Anyway, I really felt like I monopolized the conversation today. I watched his face. He wasn't bored, and he didn't seem to mind. And I did ask questions, and I did listen to his replies, so I wasn't a total ass. But I wonder how much is too much? Should I have sat across from him and kept quiet? Or do you guys enjoy being around a woman who can be lighthearted and friendly? I'm a story teller by nature, but I don't know what got into me today. It was like I'd just been released from a vow of silence and I was making up for lost time. In the end, he did ask me out again and said he had a good time, but I wonder if I should have behaved differently? Personally, I feel like the worst date ever. No wonder I never go out.
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5
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To link to this blog (gymrat1974) use [blog gymrat1974] in your messages.
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