Archive for July, 2009

I woke up on Thursday with a sore throat and a headache.  The pain lasted through the day despite my concerted effort to take it easy so I would feel better in time for my date that night.  I took some ibuprofen and really did feel better.  However, by the time the ibuprofen was doing me any good I had already postponed my date to next week.  I want to be at my best when I see this particular person.

I have a big weekend ahead of me too, so I need all my strength.  Saturday I’m meeting a new guy.  And Sunday I’m meeting a sort of new guy.  Sort of because we met on the street a couple of weeks back, and I gave him my number, but I have no clue what he looks like.  I do know that I’ve appended his name in my cell phone with “fat, desperate” so I don’t hold out much hope.

The last time I had a sore throat it was caused by too many deepthroat cocksucking sessions.  Or gonorrhea.  I’m still not sure which.  It doesn’t matter.  But I do miss the guy and the cock that abused my throat so wonderfully.  He would stand next to my bed, off of which I’d hang my head, and fuck my throat.  His cock had the perfect curve to get down my throat just right.  He would hold his cock deep in my throat so his balls blocked my nose, but I couldn’t breathe anyway since his cock prevented any air from getting in.

Then I’d feel light-headed.  My feet kicked at my covers and my arms flailed about until I pushed back on him and he pulled his cock out of my throat and then out of my mouth.  I gasped for breath.  My eyes watered, my nose ran.  And almost immediately I wanted to feel his cock push past the back of my mouth and fill up my throat again.  We did this a lot.

So I got a really bad sore throat.  Bad that can be felt in my ears when I swallow.  I have this again now, but I’ve not had a proper throat fucking in quite some time.  Most guys I’ve been with are worried they’re too rough or don’t know how to get their cocks down my throat properly.  And admittedly I compare them all to that one guy who fucked my throat so well.

I swear.  True story.

9:21 am

Whelp, Juree’s out of the ‘ol picture.  She moved to Sacramento.  Boy, am I depressed.  Erica gave me the dog chain so I guess we’re official now.  But could it be just because Juree’s not around?  If it is, oh well.  I think Juree fucked up quite a few people.  Both Erica and Amy are heart-broken.  I probably would have been sad too, had we been on amiable terms when she left.  Oh well.  Erica told me last night that she wants to have sex with Amy and she would if Amy wanted to with her.  Well, maybe to her the chain of relationship and commitment doesn’t mean much but to me it means a lot.  So I thought of a little deal this morning in the tub.  Each one of them has to come to me separately and tell me.  Then I will give Erica back the chain and nothing will any longer mean anything between us.  If she wants to risk love for sex (like she did with Juree) then that’s up to her.  I just want her to know beforehand the consequences of her action.  And she best not thik that I won’t find out ’cause I will.  “I have ways of making you talk.”  (I have no idea what that’s from.)  I have intuition.

School scandal–Nicole Howard (the one who said she’d be able to tell if someone was raised by a gay person) and Beth Gerkin (the one who looks more like a boy than Shannon) having a sexual love affair.  Wouldn’t that be the best?  And people would believe it too ’cause they’re both jockey and don’t wear much make-up.  The true sign of a lesbian–no make-up.  Ha!  I wear tons.  And so did Lizzy.  Oh well, too funny.  Anyway, I think that would be the greatest fun. I’ve been thinking about it and it is possible.  Maybe Nicole is such a gay basher because she doesn’t want to let on that she is.  Oh well.  Of course, I’m a Mormon basher but that’s not because I don’t want to let on that I’m a Mormon.

I’m extremely bored.  I’m supposed to go over to Shannon’s to spend the night but I don’t know if I am because Erica had to ask Shannon who had to ask her mother who who knows about.  So I have a change of clothes and all that just in case.  I want my mother to send me the pictures from when I was down there so I can see Erica as a macho slut.  I’ll have to write to her soon then, that’s what hat means.  I sure do smell good today.  A combo of goat milk soap and Fahrenheit and unscented deodorant (which does smell, despite what they say).  Boy, I must be fuckin’ bored.

I know my lines as much as I care to know and I’ll do just fine on the final.  My batteries are dead but oh well.  All my afternoon classes are going to change.  Econ. to Gov’t, math anal to American Studies, and drama to French I T/A.  Boy, is my life tough.  Dad’s pressuring me to tell him what I want to do after high school.  I was trying to get out of the house and move as soon as possible to LA.  But it would be more intelligent for me to stay at home, go to jr. college, and then transfer to a college down in LA if that’s where I want to be.  God, I’m starting to sound like [Step-Mother].  I get to start my driving lessons soon.  Yea, considering I already know how to drive.  I fixed my eyebrows.  They’re almost even now but my left one arches up higher and looks better, as it always has.  “True love is beautiful.  True love, aw, everything’s cool.  True love’s workin’ out.  True love’s what it’s all about.”  “But my baby’s so vain that she’s almost a mirror.  And the sound of her name sends a permanent shiver down my spine.”

“Ooh ah ooh.  Come a little closer.”

On July 13, 2009 I had an IUD inserted.

I had done my research and after years of being on the Pill decided it was time for me to be free of daily pills and the accompanying hormones.  I had made the appointment at Planned Parenthood Golden Gate over a month before.  I had gone to San Francisco City Clinic to pick up my medical records.  I was prepared.

I arrived early for my 10:30am appointment.  There was a single protester in front of the building in which Planned Parenthood Golden Gate is housed.  She carried a sign and pamphlets and very meekly asked me if I wanted information about abortions.  I let her know that I was pretty good on abortion facts and entered the building.

After taking an elevator to a vestibule, a sign instructed me to pick  up the phone which was next to a door.  The voice on the other end of the phone asked if I had an appointment and then I was buzzed in to another vestibule.  This second vestibule faced a typical doctor’s office reception area, except there was very noticeable bullet-proof glass between me and the staff.  I was told, through the bullet-proof glass, to sign in.

Signing in consisted of writing my name, date of birth, and reason for my visit on a 2″x3″ pre-printed form and sliding it through the tray under the bullet-proof glass.  I was then buzzed into the waiting room where I joined about a dozen other people, including one man and at least one same-sex female couple.  There was a sign in the waiting room that indicated patients’ accompaniment must provide identification.

Eventually I was given paperwork to fill out, and finally, 45 minutes after my appointment time, I was told to provide a urine sample.  Then I waited in another waiting room.  I was glad I had brought my iPod and a couple of magazines, and had no other plans for the day.

One of the reasons I had no other plans for the day was because friend had told me that when she had her IUD inserted she wished she had taken the day off work since the cramping she felt after it was put in was quite uncomfortable.  I was prepared for some pain, but as I’d never had cramps that were more than slightly unpleasant I wasn’t expecting things to be too bad.

After sitting in the the second waiting room I was finally called into a counseling room, a full hour after my appointment time.  A clinician told me the risks associated with having an IUD implanted, and made clear my choice between hormonal and non-hormonal IUDs.  Based on her characterization of the non-hormonal IUD as tending to cause heavier periods and more severe cramps, I opted for the hormonal IUD that was likely to make my periods lighter and possibly end altogether.

I signed some paperwork, the clinician told me that they did a pregnancy test on my urine and only because I was not pregnant were we even continuing the appointment, as IUDs are not implanted into pregnant uteri.  She asked to see my medical records, and then informed me that what I had gotten from San Francisco City Clinic were not medical records at all.  Crap.  I assured her that I had never had an irregular Pap smear and I was STI-free.

Thankfully, having gotten the wrong paperwork from the clinic did not prevent the continuation of my appointment.  I imagine if I seemed like I didn’t have my shit together or was cagey in some way they would have told me to return with my actual medical records in hand before I was permitted to have an IUD implanted.

Instead, my clinician told me what to expect once I was in the exam room.  She told me they would give me Chlamydia and gonorrhea tests because risk of infection and pelvic inflammatory disease is higher with an IUD in place.  The clinician told me to finish my current pack of birth control pills since I had less than a week’s worth left and the hormones in the IUD don’t kick in for two to three days.

And then she asked me if I wanted to take some ibuprofen to help deal with the upcoming pain.  Hmm, sure, but I was a little worried.  Was it really supposed to hurt that much?  I was slightly comforted that they weren’t offering me Vicodin, but I definitely would have appreciated it more.  The clinician sent in a nurse, who administered the ibuprofen and water.

While waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in the clinician told me that for the first few months the IUD was in I would have to check to make sure it was properly in place.  I would be required to reach into my vagina and feel for the filament strings which would be hanging a few centimeters outside my cervix.  As far as I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to reach my cervix.  I certainly had never tried to do so before, and all the times it had been hit during sex were during particularly vigorous fuck sessions.  But I tacitly agreed to be diligent about checking for the first few months the IUD was in place as she instructed.

She told me feeling the strings was good, but that feeling what felt like the end of a pen was bad.  Very bad.  It was also bad if I felt pain beyond usual menstrual cramps or had excessive bleeding.  All of these things should cause me concern and to make an appointment to have the IUD checked.

Finally I was led into the exam room where my clinician told me to take off everything from the waist down and sit on the exam table with the paper drape over my lap.  For those of you who have never had a gynecological exam, this is the standard, but at an annual exam that also includes a breast exam, one must get fully nude.  However, socks can be left on, which is helpful because the stirrups are often cold.

The doctor came in and told me what she would be doing.  First, she took a sample of my cervical cells and went to look at them under a microscope.  I was left there with my feet in the stirrups.  There was a lovely poster of an underwater scene on the ceiling so the time went by quickly.

The doctor returned and told me there was no evidence of infection.  If I had had an infection she would not have inserted the IUD on that day because putting in the IUD could spread the infection to the uterus, which could cause PID.  Next, she explained what she was doing as she inserted a sterile speculum into my vagina and then soaped up my cervix.  I had no clue there was such thing as cervix soap, but it’s nice to learn new things.

Then the pain began.  Yes, it hurt, a lot.  And I’m a wimp.  By this time I could hear what was supposed to be soothing, New Age, nature sounds, but they were annoying me because I was in pain.  That poster of the underwater scene on the ceiling became very ugly when twisted up with the pain I was experiencing.

The doctor continued to explain what she was doing and said nice things like, “This may hurt” and, “Almost done.”  First she had to measure my uterus to make sure it was appropriately sized for an IUD.  This required dilation of my cervix, which didn’t maybe hurt it fucking hurt (and makes sense considering it’s the dilation of the cervix that causes menstrual cramps).

My uterus is apparently average(ly sized) so the doctor then put the sterile IUD in.  This also hurt.  Finally–and not being able to see what the doctor was doing in my uterus through my vagina and cervix I’m not positive about this–she tied the filament string onto the loop on the end of the device.  I am convinced the looping of the string and the tying of the knot was the most painful part of the procedure.  The string has to be tied in place after the IUD is in the uterus because the distance between the loop at the bottom of the device and just outside the cervix, where the strings end, is different on every woman.

The doctor then said, “You are now the proud owner of an IUD.”  While my feet were still in the stirrups she asked if I wanted to feel the filament strings (on a spool, not the ones in me by that point) so that I would know what to feel for in my vagina.  She reached up, I reached down, and roughly between my knees I felt the filament strings that felt kind of like fishing line.

I was still in pain.  The doctor packed up including turning off the damn “music” thankfully.  I got dressed and went to get my blood taken, as the doctor suggested I get an HIV test while I was there.  The doctor gave me a flexible plastic credit-card sized reminder card that indicated I was to have the IUD removed by July 12, 2016, which seems like a time so far in the future, but is only seven years away.  It has to be removed by then because the hormones contained in the device will have been depleted due to constant release over seven years.

Then the doctor gave me a clip board with a form on it and a pen.  The form had questions about domestic abuse.  I was to mark next to any of the questions to which I had an affirmative answer.  Quite a few of the questions concerned my living situation; whether I felt safe in my home.  Uh, yeah, I live alone.  My dog and cat love me, and any abuse they heap on me is of the pay-attention-to-me-now variety.  I did not mark any of the questions.  I didn’t ask if the form was standard for all patients.  The timing was odd since I had filled out all the other forms when I first arrived.  This was the only form I received after the implanting of the device, which may be because I had a large dark bruise on my upper left thigh.

A few nights before, the guy I’ve dubbed Alex Semi-Nutty (story on him definitely coming soon) came over.  He and I have great sex that tends to get a little rough.  He is a biter.  During our tryst he bit my thigh, hard.  He did not break the skin, but the bruise developed into a nice dark purple number by the time I went in for my appointment.  When the doctor first saw it I assured her it was received consensually, but I guess she had to make sure by giving me the form.

When I left the building the protester was no longer there.  I took the bus home, still in pain.  It felt like cramps.  The pain lessened over the next few days.  I don’t know if it was the pain or the fact that they were caused by the thing in me, but the cramps kind of turned me on.

I checked if I could feel the filament strings.  After washing my hands I poked around and felt nothing but soft, squishy pussy.  Hmmm.  I reached in with a couple of fingers to see if I just wasn’t reaching deep enough.  I was getting a tad worried and wanted to kick myself for not asking exactly how I should do this when I was at Planned Parenthood.  Then I poked all around and THERE!  Apparently my cervix is much further forward than I thought.  (Actually, I had not thought about the location of my cervix other than at the end of my vaginal canal, ever.)  So now that I know where to feel for the strings I’m to do so once a month (after my period) for a few months.

I have an appointment in August when the doctor will check that the device is properly in place.  I will bring them the correct medical records then.

A couple of days after having it inserted, my IUD was christened by a hot new fuck.

I swear.  True story.

[This is a fucking hot, pussy-soaking story from guest writer, ramona valentine.  You'll want to find more of her dirty.]

Pronunciation: ‘sA-”di-z&m
Function: noun
Etymology: International Scientific Vocabulary, from Marquis de Sade
1 : a sexual perversion in which gratification is obtained by the infliction of physical or mental pain on others (as on a love object)

he made me wait.
not at home…he was there before i was ready to go…
he made me wait to kiss him.
just coming off the ‘nice guy’ trip…i thought we would be making out.
i was wrong. i tried to kiss him. he refused. wouldn’t kiss me, still touched me, sat next to me, just wouldn’t give me what i wanted. at all.
i love that. always keep em guessin’
this usually works with me…i willingly go along with that one. i prefer it.
my attention span is short…and i bore easily.

we had a conversation wherein he gave the exact definition of ‘crimes of passion’
fright gets me wet
then he let me climb on top of him
i was so ready to just be on him
he lifted up my skirt and stuck his finger directly on the best most sensitive part of my pussy… and just stared at me.
my mind was spinning.
this was our first contact!! sticking his hand in my panties and immediately touching the one place that makes me wet beyond belief.?…

and when i took it just a little too far,and tried to kiss him
he picked me up and put me in another seat. and left the room.

he asked me what i wanted.
i asked him to shave for me
he asked me to barter for it
‘i’ll totally give you a blowjob’
‘you were going to do that anyway.’
i said the one thing i shouldn’t have
:::i won’t anal:::
telling the sadist what you won’t do is the fucking dumbest thing you can do…
quite a few times i had no idea what was about to happen with him…or what i wanted to happen…
he made me want him though
i really want him
crave it
i get wet with anticipation

he walked around and turned things off, shut windows, did this whole methodical routine.
it was slightly unnerving and incredibly sexy.
no one could see me there and no one would hear me scream.

he came back and stood over me.
my head was back..i reached up and felt his hard cock in my hand. i wanted moremoremore
i undid his belt and he undid his pants….
his cock was out and i swear-just for a second i thought he was going to pee on me.
straight down my face and chest…
i don’t know how much i would have minded.
i beg for it with this fucker.

he shoved my mouth over his cock
i tasted pussy
not my pussy…
some pussy was there before me…
not at all surprised. nothing shocking.
i wondered if he did it on purpose…
he’s methodical.
i want him to hit me. i want to wear those marks.
he put his cock in my mouth. i wanted more.i want to just suck his cock. i love it.
the way it fills my mouth and i can’t get all of it in there….the way i have it shoved down my throat and have no air…please let me.please you.
i gave him a blowjob while leaning over the sofa
he choked me and gave me every indication that this was not about being a nice guy.
thank you.

he quickly got behind me and fucked me soo fucking hard
just for a minute.just long enough to make me scream and hope it never stops.
then it does.always.
he made me blow him some more
lick myself off his cock
we made our way into his room.

more windows shut-lights turned off-doors shut-blinds shut
he took off my panties and his clothes….he was wearing a van halen t-shirt…
soo hot…
let me climb on top of him
ride him… grind my pussy all over him  fuck him  scream for him
i love that.
[every girl loves a dirty cowboy] or would it be [save a horse, ride a cowboy]

then he just got up and walked out.
went into the bathroom and started some water and then asked me to come there
‘what am i doing?’
i heard the taptaptap of the razor on the sink
‘haaayou’re shaving..’ my pussy is dripping at the thought
i grab the door and it’s locked.
of course.
‘you’re shaving with the door locked’
he opened it. i walked into his trap…
i took a seat with my leg up so i could masturbate…my hand was immediately all over my super wet pussy…my eyes glued on that fucker shaving for me.
shaving for me
fuck. you have no idea.
the hottest fantasies i have.
he gave me what i always want.
boom.what i always want.what i want every guy to do…ever
i watched him. his hands. the taptaptap. the way he has the water on. the faces he makes. the way he looked at himself. his hands. his body. his cock, but only for a second, because i didn’t want to miss his hand dragging the razor over the neck or the chin, or right above his lip…oh my fucking god, was this even happening? i could watch this for hours…i swear it seemed like it lasted 5 seconds. his body- his ritual- his hands over his face- his way that it works for him
the taptaptap of the razor
water over his up the shaving cream, the ears, the final look in the mirror.
towel dry.
writing this now i had to stop…
let myself have that all over again.
::::here comes the best part::::
the smell of a man’s face after he shaves makes me want to fucking blow him for a week.

he led me back into his room
i want him to fuck me now here harderharder faster moremore
i climb on him smell him
kiss him
his mouth is soft and kissing him gives me the complete misconception about the situation, this is not soft…he is not a soft guy.
that fucking smell.
hands in my pussy
fucking me
letting me ride him
taking off all my clothes.
our first time totally and completely naked with eachother.
home base.

i blew him. i love to blow him.
he choked me he throttled my throat and completely took my air away
he plugged my nose and talked dirty to me as he choked me and took away every breath
asking me if i liked it telling me how fucking good it felt to have his dick in my throat
he hit me and i asked for more.please more.
he slapped me across the face quite hard.
his palm always landing squarely on my jaw.thud.

he was fucking me from behind in a very deep intense position
penetrating me
his hand reaching down and touching my ass
my breathing quickens. my mind races.
he is going anal
and i’m the one that is truly not anal
[...confession...which is why the only guys that i have let anal are the ones i have fucked any way they want.
there are 4...and half are only a finger, not even their cock.]
he grabbed my hair and pulled me back onto him…onto his finger in my ass. my pussy soo wet. so fucking hot. his touch his cock his mouth on my ear biting…pulling my hair…pushing my boundaries.a little more and then a little more still.
‘kiss me’
i do. he pushes his finger farther.his dick harder.
i wince and slightly pull away
‘smell me’ rubbing that freshly shaven face over my neck and face
from behind…’kiss me..can you smell my face?’ said so hot into my hot. so behind me with all of me on him his fingers and cock in me…
i smell him.shaving kisses and his finger in my ass.
oh my fucking god
you can have whatever you want.i would give anything to feel like this with every guy.
complete submission.
he pulls me soo hard down on him against him the feeling of his cock
oh fuck

he tosses me over him by my hair.
puts me on his face.
riding his face
hands in me
biting me so hard in the ditch between thigh and pussy, trying to pull away from him– his finger is up my ass.
biting me soo hard
fingertip slipping with ease into my ass
fingers deep in my pussy
licking me
biting me
i am writhing all over his face and slipping in and over his hand…
tricky guy.having his fingertip in my ass. forcing me to choose between being bitten soo hard or having it there…
fuck me.
he hits me. please can i have more.
please. hit me again. he does. more please. one more.
so hard.

he flips me over and shoves his cock in my mouth
my hands are wet and i am just rubbing his cock and taking as much as i can in my mouth
he is still teasing my ass with his fingers and then starts putting 3 fingers in my pussy
the pressure. the feeling. i am sucking on his balls and wanting to make him cum in my mouth…please.
my hand feeling every inch squeezing it into my mouth
sucking on his balls
pushing my pussy over his face soo hard…his fingers being forced into me.

‘quit rubbing the head of my dick…i don’t wanna cum yet’
i stop.
it feels like he is going to fist me. the pressure and the ecstasy.
he pulls a flip-
he’s on top of me in an instant. fucking me hard and making me scream.
soo hard. his cock fills me up and makes me fucking want more.
crave it.
i was soo wet for him and i wanted to make him cum so bad…
he did. loud. hard. intense.

oh fuck
so hot
so good
all over me..i wanted to taste him
so fucking hot
so wet and good….
complete submission on a sunday evening

I like the ladies, but I am shy as fuck around them.  They scare me, so I’m not so good at picking them up, taking ‘em back to my place, and fucking them silly like I do men.

But I like boobies, a lot.  And burying my face and fingers in a wet pussy is oh-so-nice.  Licking girl ass is divine ….  I sometimes find myself searching Craig’s List w4w listings.  The w4w Casual Encounters ads are often just ads, like these:

Jul 26 – I love to date younger guys near All Of San Francisco – w4m - ( ) pic

Jul 26 – Looking for a older guy to smash my tight holes – w4m - ( ) pic

Jul 26 – My man wont bone me!! Would You? – w4m - ( pic

Jul 26 – Schoolgirl looking for a QUICK Sexual fix before school! – w4m - ( pic

Jul 26 – Send me NASTY Pics and emails tonight! – w4m - ( pic

Jul 26 – Hi Girls! – w4w – 26 - (downtown / civic / van ness) pic

Jul 26 – Lonely and looking – w4m - ( ) pic

Jul 26 – Here is to NSA fun! – w4m - ( ) pic

Jul 26 – Im having a hardtime looking for fun guy to play! – w4m - ( pic

Jul 26 – **Looking for a fun playmate** – w4w – 28 - (San Francisco)

Jul 26 – I like it really big! – w4m - (

Jul 26 – Gag me – w4m - ( ) pic


Jul 26 – **Wondering how we look on camera! Would you film us? Females only!** – w4w – 29 - (San Francisco)

Some of the above might be “real” but chances are none of them is.  I’ve learned to read Craig’s List ads pretty well and can figure out for the most part which ones are backed by actual humans who want to meet sans compensation.

Other than the “danger” that the w4w listings are advertisements, the other issue is that the ads are often posted by women who are only posting at their boyfriends’ behest and should really be listing in mw4w because they’re looking for threesomes.  I dig threesomes, but I look on the appropriate section of Craig’s List when that is what I’m seeking.  When I look in w4w, I want some one-on-one sex with a woman only.

I responded to an ad that was clearly from an actual woman who wanted actual pussy.  We agreed to meet at the 500 Club on a Sunday afternoon.  As per usual I was running late.  She was there when I arrived.  She was cute–a bit taller than me, thin, with a curly bobbed haircut and cute little boobies, my favorite kind.  We talked over drinks.

She told me she had a boyfriend but that her goal “this time” was to find someone for her.  She told me she and her boyfriend, “Timothy” had had a few threesomes, mostly with women he had met and with whom he had facilitated the encounters.  She said there had been quite a bit of fun, but that she was looking for more than just one night of sex.  She said she wanted ongoing friendships with women with whom she and Timothy had fun.

Of course this was a completely different angle than she had expressed either in her Craig’s List ad or her emails in the exchanges we’d had when setting up the meeting at the bar.  I’m an easy-going gal, so I went along with it.

We had another couple of drinks and then decided to keep in touch.  Soon thereafter we agreed that we would meet again.  This time I went to their neighborhood, which was only fair since she had met me in mine on our initial meeting.  She wanted me to meet Timothy and then for us to figure out how things would go from there.  We had accomplished meeting and drinking without fucking the first time we met, so I definitely believed it was a possibility for our second meeting.

I took the bus out to the Inner Richmond.  Well, rather, I took two buses to the bar where we had agreed to meet.  I met her and Timothy.  Timothy was a bit socially awkward, or at least that’s how it seemed because he didn’t have much to say.  I can fill in the gaps of five different conversations simultaneously with my witty banter/inane chatter so all was well as long as they continued to buy me drinks.

Timothy wore glasses, which was not a big deal in itself, but I could tell he was wearing glasses (as opposed to contacts) because he had a severely wonky eye.  Severely.

I am not an eye person–it’s not unusual for me to know someone’s eye color based only on an educated guess:  brown people have brown eyes, light people have light eyes.  I’ve never been offended when someone I know doesn’t know my eye color; the usual guess is blue.  [My eyes are green, the rarest eye color (at least that's the bullshit I've been espousing for years).]  So for me to notice that Timothy’s eyes were quite fucked up behind his glasses must have meant they were really fucked up behind his glasses.  His right eye appeared to be little more than a watery, red slit with something milky behind it; his left eye was apparently the better of the two because he didn’t run into anything.

So we hung out at the bar and had a few more drinks.  By the time I went to the bathroom I knew their intention was to bring me back to their place, which was right around the corner.  [Their place, incidentally, was on the same block as the party where I had re-met Sheldon.]

We walked to their apartment, where they showed me the very 1970s decor (not of their choosing) and served me more drinks.  Eventually she and I were making out on their couch.  I pointed out between kisses that I had the same shirt I was taking off of her.

Timothy was not in the room and I wanted to make sure that what we were doing, without him there, was acceptable under the “rules” of their relationship.  She assured me that everything was good to go.  We made out.  I licked her pussy and felt her grinding her clit into my mouth.  It had been a while since I’d tasted pussy and I reconfirmed that I fucking love it.

Eventually the three of us went to the bedroom where the highlight (as far as I’m concerned) was me licking Timothy’s ass whilst he was fucking her.  I really don’t like spending the night away from home, and especially when I’ve not made arrangements for Isis, but due to alcohol consumption and vigorous activity I fell asleep.

I woke up to the sound and feel of two people fucking next to me on the bed.  In my sleepiness I think I reached over to “help” in some way.  I fell back asleep.  I woke up with only one other body in the bed.  I figured Timothy had gone to work after the morning fuck and she was sleeping next to me.  I lolled a bit, my brain slowly putting things together.

By the intensity of the light coming into the room I knew it was not all that early and I knew I had to get up and get the fuck out of there to let Isis out.  I was fully nude, which is not my preferred sleeping attire, so I went in search of my clothes.  I noticed the body in the bed next to me was not hers, but Timothy’s, and he had on a sleep mask (which was a blessing–what if that one eye didn’t close all the way?).  I heard the sounds of television coming from the living room so I made my way there.  When I appeared in the entry to the living room she gasped.  I neither knew nor cared if the gasp was positive or negative.

She was sitting on the couch watching tv.  I gathered my clothes and got dressed.  I told her I needed to get home to my dog.  She got a pained look on her face and said something along the lines of having difficulty finding a parking space.  Huh?  I said she could just drop me off.  She explained that on a Saturday she’d have trouble finding a space near her place after she dropped me off, and that it was better to keep the space the car was in at the time.

Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to put you out after I licked your boyfriend’s asshole (which I’m sure, based on his reaction, was not a regular event in their bedroom) after you claimed you were looking for someone just for you.  I had no cash so I had to ask her for some money so I could take the bus.  She didn’t even offer to pay for a cab for me.  Or if she did, she sure as shit didn’t insist because I would have definitely preferred taking a cab to squinting in the bright sun at first one, and then a second bus stop.  I always wear sunglasses and sunscreen when the sun’s up, but had left my house after dark the night before so had on neither.  Thankfully I had my iPod with me so I didn’t have to listen to the stupid conversations that are inevitable on buses.

When I got home I took Isis out right away, though she was not clamoring to go out.  I know she loves me but sometimes she doesn’t seem to notice if I’m even home.

I sent the usual had-a-great-sexy-time email, to which I got no response.  Then, a few weeks later I did something that made my little Inner Richmond girlfriend some money, but I didn’t receive a thank you.  I finally emailed her telling her it was my doing that got her paid and she did thank me, but I’ve not heard from her since.  I have no idea why, and I certainly don’t care, but if she really did want an ongoing friendship with me treating me like shit certainly isn’t the way to my heart.

I swear.  True story.


I told Erica I loved her on Friday night. I want to tell her all the time now but I have to suppress my feelings at school.  I heard the U2 song with the words, “I want to be with you, be with you night and day” and that’s how I feel about Erica.  We always talk on the phone until very last at night.  And I think I’m winning because Juree is mentioned less and less. She said she thought she’d never hear me tell her I love her but now that I have we just need to work on us.  I really don’t like not being able to touch her.  At school, at work. Sometimes at work we can sneak into the bathroom but I want more.

1:58 pm

Got two detentions for not going to 5th period yesterday. Erica was getting quite violent over Amy bringing up stuff about when they lived together. So Shannon, Erica, and I were in the darkroom at lunch. Shannon left and the bell rang so Erica told me I should go to class so I didn’t get in trouble. So I asked her if she wanted me to leave and she said no. And I would never do anything that she didn’t want me to do, only exactly what she wants. Erica’s supposed to have to sit at work before she actually starts tonight but I want her to come over but maybe something’ll happen, I hope so. I want her to think she can’t live w/o me. But she can. Oh, now she and Amy are getting along fairly well and I guess that’s good. Amy was over last night to work on our economics project and we were sort of talking about Erica and I feel bad because the stuff we were saying wasn’t all good. So now I’ve decided to not do that talk behind people’s backs because it bothers me so much. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. Erica has told me what Amy says when she’s having sex (“More, more.”) so she has probably told both Amy (not yet ’cause they haven’t been getting along) and Jureee what I say (“Oh my God.”)