I haven't had sex for a month. It's true. I know that seems far fetched, but it happens. Now, a month may not seem long to most, but it's gotten bad. Real bad. The last sexual encounter I had involved a gorgeous beast face deep in my pussy. I got off. Multiple times. I should be satisfied, right? Wrong. All that it's done has left me craving more. Maybe it's also because that was a couple weeks ago too, and the bruises and bite marks have faded from my thighs and I'm left with nothing to remind me other than silly fading memories of what feels like an eternity ago.
Moving on. I went on my first date in over a year Sunday night. It was somewhat of a blind date, but we friended each other on facebook and had been texting before it actually happened, so I guess I can't really call it a blind date. Anyway, Miss Whitney Morgan apparently spreads dirty lies about me to her male friends telling them that I'm sweet and fun and pretty awesome, and one of them must have thought so since he took me out for dinner and a lovely walk around the park. I had no idea what to expect from this guy cause he seemed pretty funny via text message, but you can be a completely and totally different person when hiding behind your texted word. The Gentleman/Anti Communist turned out to be noncreepy, which is good, but he did make the mistake of talking politics on the first date. Fortunately it wasn't so bad that I didn't say no to a second date, but nevertheless, I am not a very political person. I follow politics enough and am well informed enough to make intelligent decisions when voting, but other than that, I don't care. I'm not going to change anything with my vote and I'm not nearly political enough to start a revolution. But anyway, enough politics... back to the date. It was nice. He gave me a rose, which was super sweet. I can't remember the last time someone gave me a rose. Doing things that I'm not expecting or used to, like giving me a flower, is a really great way to start off an evening.
What I realized between my date Sunday and 3am this morning is that I've been holding my life to extremely high standards of sexual pleasure. I'm wanting it so bad that I'm not going about it the right way. I haven't played the role of desperate single girl in forever...and by forever, I really mean ever. But anyway, after a short nap in a sexy beast's bed after a couple drinks last night, I woke up and walked away from the situation. I could have stayed in bed with him and flicked his nipple with my tongue while pinching the other until the results were desirable in my favor. But I didn't. I walked away. I don't know. And I surely don't know why. But I did. He did give me a book to read before I left completely (intelligence is sexy. Giving me books to read is like foreplay) and walked me to my car. I won't lie; I've been craving the beast's sex like you wouldn't believe. And there I was. Walking away. I think I've figured out/decided that since I've been holding things to such high standards, I should just let things happen. I haven't been very good at that recently. I think that letting things happen and just going with the flow will probably be healthier but more fun anyway.
Anyhow...Saturday there was a modeling event about an hour away that Miss Whitney Morgan, Joel and I attended. As usual, I got naked pretty fast. I swear, my clothes just fall off! Anyway, there was this beautiful black girl who ate my face at one point and then proceeded to make out with me for pictures. It was magical. This however was after scary hard on guy pulled off his bottoms and proceeded to get the scariest looking hard on I've ever seen. You don't understand. It was terrifying. I've slept with black guys before and none of them have had such scary hard ons. Seriously. Uncircumcised and crooked. And scary. I giggled. Penises should be much prettier than that if they're going to be within a foot of me.
Anyway. I'm running out of steam. I'm exhausted. I think it's nap time.
No comments:
Post a Comment