Can I just say...SEX IS AMAZING!!!!
My appointment with Z involved conversation about my newest tattoo, which will be inked in skin on Friday, and sex. I discussed my sexual boiling over and my wanting to venture into a sexual relationship with a guy I've been chatting with for a little while.
Z raised points already weighing heavy on my soul. At the end of the session, after I had paid my bill and set up another appointment with him, he said to me "I hope you think about this." With a pause in it that sighed heavy with worry.
I was pissed all the way home. Still am. But I sent an email to the guy and told him that it's best that we don't do anything. Call me a cock sucker and think horribly of me but I can't do it.
Very quietly, Z had basically asked me not to do it.
Ok, Z. I won't.
Ok....Extremely sexually frustrated. Tried to get my mind off of sex for the last couple days and it's just not happening. Lots of gratuitous sex running amok in my head.
What the hell am I going to do short of picking up some stranger and fucking his brains out?!
If I don't start having a normal sex life soon, I'm going to be one angry bitch. And by normal, I mean every fucking day being fucked in some way.
The lack of carnal knowledge is grating on my nerves.
What does a girl need to do get fucked beyond consciousness around here?!
At work on Saturday, I had the pleasure of serving the most delicious cowboy I have seen in my life. He probably isn't a real cowboy but if a man is wearing a cowboy hat and speaks with a drawl...he's going to be a cowboy in the telling of this story.
I mean very little disrespect by this next statement but it's going to piss some of those off...I have no fondness for the southern accent. None whatsoever. But my cowboy had the sweetest sounding voice that dripped sexiness from the words escaping his mouth. A deep rumble mixed with manners and a kick of flirtiness. His voice was slow as a woman can imagine his lovemaking. Probably the most intoxicating southern drawl I have ever heard in my life.
He smiled the entire time he was at my counter. Picking cookies for what I assume where his wife and son. A mischievious smile that hinted of playful sex and delectable nibbles. And the hair upon his chin brought that right mix of cowboy and rocker to his look.
His clothes were simple. I remember jeans. Some sort of jacket. Button up shirt over tee, perhaps. Capping his head was a cowboy hat. Perfect simplicity.
And his face had movie star quality. A little Russell Crowe but not quite. Rugged like Gladiator but round like A Good Year. His eyes were more than inviting...they dared me to pick him up in front of his wife.
I wanted to say something to him. I was actually weak in my knees from how fucking good-looking this guy was. And his mannerisms suggested that he was a really nice guy that made him much more appealing. I think I may have stuttered just slightly. A tremble in the voice to indicate that I was admiring him. My voice lilted a bit....raised pitch in that coquettish way of girl flirting. I wanted to tell him how he was marvelous. But I hesitated.
Man, I can't forget how he smiled the entire time.
I fumbled with his credit card receipt as I tried handing it to him with my pen. Thanked him. I smiled a lot too. And he walked away.
But the silly man had to turn back to the counter. He had forgotten his cookies sitting there. With his dulcimer voice, he laughs at himself and his concern for the receipt rather than his cookies.
Oh...I should have said something. But I didn't
I had to take a moment to regain my composure after he left. What a sexy man! Damn him for being married. I couldn't flirt. And then....he was back at my counter. Getting napkins. Still smiling. Cowboy smile.
"Excuse me. I don't mean to be too forward. But you are such a good looking man! I had to tell you."
That smile. And was that a wink? He said something low and rumbly. I have no idea what. Perhaps something about how sweet and thank you? Maybe. I just remember the smile and the look. Goodness, is he the reason women love cowboys?!
I can only hope he wants cookies again.
At least for me. I do believe the lack thereof of the following needs has stunted my growth; and it is also my conclusin that I will spontaneously combust if I do not satisfy these basic needs.
public displays of affection
fucking....lots of fucking
fucking..mentioned twice because it's so nice
Wanting a boyfriend who could provide this responsibly but will be just as happy with a friend boy that could fill in for the meantime.
hmmmm...sounds a bit desparate. AH! But I feel that I am. Lacking in the intimate interactions between two people can drive a person to drink. I think we underestimate the impact of this connection. I am going mad because of the absence.
Have you ever had one of those orgasms that after you have climaxed your very sensitive sexual organs start having these mini aftershocks that feel like its keeping time with a conductor that likes to surprise his audience, which has acclimated to what it thinks is a predictable progression of the music; but with the downbeat of his baton cutting through the air so forcefully, the instruments strike that beat with such emphasis that it shakes you to the core?
Ugly title but it brings about as many people to this site as one can imagines through internet searches.
Anyhoo.....I just wanted to pose a question for any women out there or their sympathetic mates.
Are you hornier during your period? Does all coherent thought leave your brain during your flow only to be replaced with randy thoughts of fucking the hot Time Warner guy that seems to do all customer orders in your apartment complex?
No? Well, at least you got to see me use donkey porn in a sentence.
Some day last week, I woke up from a strange dream of an erotic nature. It was vivid and nasty and with Kevin Smith. At one point in the dream, Kevin was pushing forward in that missionary position and he deposited a beef flavored dog pill in my throat. At that point, I choked in my dream as well as in real time. I woke up and could have sworn I could feel that damn pill still lodged in my esophagus. And it was all so erotic.
The rest of the day, I craved cinnamon rolls. I wanted a hot, gooey cinnamon roll. Hot from an oven with sticky sweet icing dripping down its sides. ALL FREAKING DAY LONG! And I was stuck at work without a way out into the real world to find it. I had a caramel roll from Wal-Mart a day or so later. Yeah, not the same thing. It turned me off for a few days. Today? I sure do want that cinnamon roll.
Here's my question: If I eat that cinnamon roll, will I get the Big O face too? Because now, hot cinnamon rolls are strictly tied to crazy, monkey sex with Kevin Smith.
POST NOTE: I just re-read that title and boy, that's just weird. It probably should have read, "Cinnamon Rolls and Hot Monkey Sex With Kevin Smith." Now it just implies "Rutting with Pastries."
Well, it is. Don't judge. You know you do it too.
Seriously, you know you need sex (and a partner) when you return home from dropping your child off at school and you have a lightbulb moment.
Mine? I was walking from the den into the kitchen to have my breakfast when I realized there was no workman in the house and child was at school and suddenly exclaimed (yes, exclaimed. That's how excited I am.) aloud, "Huh?!. I can masturbate today."
Ok. I would totally evil laugh right now but that's just a bit dorky and quite sad, and I'm trying to decide if I should seduce myself or just go for it. But I have to say that the weirdest bit of all this is not thinking of how much time do I have before I fit a visit to the gym into my day. It's not that I had an 'aha' moment about violating my puki (side note: don't ever give pookie as a nickname to a girl or whoever....every Filipino will laugh and point). It's that I thought it would be interesting to share that 'aha' moment with you.
Mercy, please. I am so fucking horny. I don't know how many times I have masturbated in last week, but my goodness....I so desparately need a partner. Seriously, I would be freaking Helen Keller if the little tale that masturbation makes you blind were true.
And the men I see every day? Not helping. Today, I was talking to this guy I find extremely attractive and he's a friend and all I could think about is making bite marks and hickeys on his neck and other places. Imagined him dripping sweat onto my body as he looms over me. AGGGHHHHHH! Watched his lips A LOT during our conversation. Goodness! EH!
Not helping myself reading erotica. Have you been to literotica.com? I may have mentioned it before. I also keep thinking of The One. Every single time I have an orgasm, he pops into my head. Sneaky bastard!
And the dreams!!!! So wrong to have an imagination like I do. An overactive imagination. My head is a freaking menu of porn right now.
So, I'm hot and bothered. Cursed, really.
How have you been?
Yes, I used 'shit' in my post title. Now more strange visitors will be finding me on the web...if it wasn't bad enough that I get requent hits from those that would go to jail for pedophilia. *shiver* Uggghhhh!
I need a vacation and I don't anticipate one until the end of July when Betts and her son visit. But, boy-oh-boy! Do I need one!
Last month was a hard month at work. I don't give work details on here because all I need are those corporate types finding my opinions and then I'm out of a job. Honestly, I wouldn't want to work for a company that fires a person because of her venting. Principles, you know....but we all sell our souls a bit out of necessity. Don't tell me that you don't because I guarantee if you have a family that needs to be fed....you're working. And unless you have that dream job that you can do whatever the hell you want and still get paid......The devil is your boss. But I digress....last month. Let's just say that I cried a number of times in the last four weeks because of my job.
Probably getting tired of hearing about the crap in my life. You know...."I'm sad." yadda yadda yadda "I miss The One" yadda yadda yadda "I'm nothing." yadda yadda so more yadda.
Fuck, I'm tired of feeling it and saying it.
Speaking of fuck, I need a good one. A mind blowing, guilt inducing, orgasm producing fuck with lots of tongue and fingers and cock and pussy (Oh goodness, here come the search engines). Yes...I am foul! Turn away if you're embarrassed. I'm not. Water, sex, and sushi - my rejuvinators. Give me all three in a day and I'd probably end up in a coma, smiling but still in a coma, in some nursing facility for the remainder of my days.
Incidentally, is anyone else getting slammed hard by spam bots in their trackbacks. It's just pissing me off that in the last four hours I've been fifty or so times by those damned things. I need to probably send a little note to Typepad.
God, I'm horney! I don't know about men but we, women have this issue when our jeans or other crotch rubbing material clothing are between our thighs and we are randy. Do you get that problem? Good gracious!
other things....thinking about other things....clouds......"Things that are fluffy"........um,film......"Things that are photography related"........scissors....."Things that film editors use".........licorice......."Things that are sweet".........la la la, snowmen......"Things that are white".........grunting......"THINGS ON A PORN SET!"
Not helping at all!
So, Cute Guy at work is going to be a dad.That is so great! He is a good catch. I don't think I have ever mentioned Cute Guy here on Vagabond. He's not only cute but one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. And he hugs me every time I see him. First time, I asked him for a hug. Now he comes up to me and hugs. He doesn't just hug...he embraces you. He pulls you close and holds you tight....at least, he does for me. And see, I could stay there all day just being hugged. I think he'd let me but I'm afraid of being inappropriate so I pull away. And honestly, I don't get many hugs that last as long as they do with Cute Guy. It makes me feel uncomfortable because I like it too much.
Before I found out he was married and before The One came into my life as The One, I looked at Cute Guy in a lustful way. I admit. Still do at times but he is married, and I won't do that. And did I mention that he is married to a Filipina. I think I've mentioned this before but for those who need several lessons on the same thing....don't ever piss off a Filipina. Never, evah, evah, evah, nevah, nevah....EV-VER piss off a Filipina. BUT I would never do anything.
Seriously, I'm glad he's going to be a dad. They've been planning this and he is going to make one fantastic father. He's a good soul. On the contrary, there is me. Devlish Naomi who is imaging his state of being in making a baby.
I want The One so bad. I miss him. I need him. Craving him. DESPERATELY CRAVING HIM!
Eh, I'm going to bed. Too much pent up energy and raw emotions....and I can't even masturbate because my child is not quite asleep. Damn, I miss school! I could have my four screaming orgasms in the morning to start the day off right. Geez, Louise! Now I have to wait for sleep-over invites or just mute myself.