Ed

I had a lover that I would visit about every 2 weeks that lived in Orange County. I hate Orange County. The city makes me feel uncomfortable. Everyone looks the same, and every house and street seem identical. The entire definition of cookie cutter was probably based on Orange County. Despite my prejudices, though, I would try and visit him about every few weeks. I may be married, but my relationships outside my marriage are friendships too. It's the way I prefer things, and I think my husband feels like I'm safer when he's a friend.

Anyway, OC lover lived across the street from a nice bar/restaurant in Laguna. It was more upscale, but they had a nice relaxing bar area. I would soon learn that the bar was a local gathering area for working professionals in their mid-40's cheating on their spouses. They would meet their partners in crime at the bar, have a drink and stumble out together. I watched a few couples go through the routine.

So, it was still a hot summer and a perfect night to go out. It was summertime so I was wearing sundress. I sat at the bar between an older gentleman and OC lover. As the drinks started flowing the older gentleman, who was there with a very inebriated friend, introduced himself as Ed.

He gave me a business card and complimented me on how beautiful I am. He started in on how exotic looking I am, my tattoos are sexy, my breasts are perfect... OC lover nodded in agreement, proud that he gets to fuck me I suppose. It was all very easy and funny. Every one was drunk and it was, at least for the moment, harmless flirting.

I excused myself at one point to go to the restroom. When I rounded the corner from the restroom when I returned, I noticed Ed and OC lover in deep conversation. They're heads snapped up and Ed started fidgeting around and laughing, as if he was caught doing something naughty.

Ed, aside from being older, he was approximately 53 years old, maybe about 6'2" and on was kind of like a teddy bear. He was a happy looking man, with silver hair. I do a lot of business with men his age, and they are always hung up on how different I look. Ed was no exception. He made it very clear that he thought that I could rip a man apart in bed, and he wanted to be a part of that...

"What are you guys doing?" I asked slowly when I returned to the bar.

Ed started to do that thing that men do when they are uncomfortable, he pulled up his pants and adjusted himself. He was smiling and laughing away with OC lover. "Ah- you caught us!" he laughed, a little too loudly, like he was trying to make light of whatever it was they were talking about.

OC lover had a smirk on his face, but his eyes were wide and he looked a little confused.

I didn't say anything. I just sat down and took a sip of my drink. Then after a bit I said, "Ok, what did I miss?"

They both laughed this time, then Ed said, "Well we were just talking here. And oh jesus-this is going to sound so perverted.... but I was asking OC here how you would feel about....um... coming over to my place and finishing the party off at my house."

I started laughing. It was involuntary. I was surprised. I wasn't sure if he was serious. "What?" I asked when I could manage to stop laughing.

"I don't mean to fuck me or anything. Oh-fuck, this is going to sound so sick... but, do you see that Mercedes SLK convertible parked right outside?"

I nodded.

"Well, it's mine. I have a big house up the hill with a spa and jacuzzi and everything. I would like you for you two to come back to my house. We can just hang out, soak in the jacuzzi, drink some more... and I'll give you 1,000 dollars to watch you have sex with him."

I was stunned. "Huh? Why?"

He laughed, "Jesus, that's why! You have no idea how fucking sexy you are, or maybe you do, but I don't think you really understand it!" he laughed a big hearty laugh. He made it sound like a real compliment, and he really meant it. "I won't do anything gross or weird. I just want to watch."

I was speechless. This was either the biggest compliment I had ever received, or I guess it could be viewed as really offensive. But I wasn't offended. I was flattered.

Looking back, I probably should have taken the money. It was a lot of money for having sex I was going to have anyway... but I think I was shocked by the whole thing. He offered me his information and wanted me to take a weekend with him and his girlfriend, if I ever changed my mind. Good thing I still have his info... you know... if I ever change my mind.

October 16, 2009

My best friend asked me to go to Target with her to help her register for her baby shower. We ran around the aisles and registered for this and that, and it made me feel a bit nostalgic. It was fun planning baby stuff.

Afterward, we were walking around the store and made our way into the health and beauty section. We passed the condom aisle, and I said "Let's buy condoms! It'll make us feel single and baby free again!" We stopped to laugh for a moment, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around and it was a handsome young guy, maybe 21 at the oldest. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"Yes?" I said.

"Can I have your phone number?" he was smiling. He had been listening in on our conversation.

My best friend who's 8 months pregnant started laughing hysterically, "Oh my God! You just made pee a little!"She waddled as fast as she could to the restroom.

I guess I've officially entered cougarland...

I added 10 boxes of condoms to her baby shower registry.

Morning after...

"Do you want to get breakfast?" Ex asked as he pulled on his pants.

"No, I'm good. I've got to get moving. I've got a ton of stuff to do today." I had been up all night wondering how this morning was going to be, and replaying my conversation over and over again in my head with Thing 2. I really wanted Ex to go away.

He stood up and smiled at me. He followed me into the bathroom, where I had started to brush my teeth. He came up behind me and put his arms around my waist. He started to nuzzle my neck and he whispered, "God, I miss you."

I pulled away and rinsed my mouth out quickly. "Listen, I don't want you thinking that last night was some sort of make-up session. We are still broken-up. We are not back together." I know I sounded cruel, but Ex wasn't someone who always caught the hint. I had to be clear and direct, and I really didn't know what being nice would do for him. If him being angry with me would make things easier for him, then that was what I had to accept. . He thought we had made up somehow. I'm a terrible person. I didn't consider that sleeping with him would push a reset button with him, and he wouldn't be able handle it for what it was to me

His face crumpled, and then he shook it off, "Yeah, I know," he said quickly, trying to regain his composure. I guess my treatment of him was finally sinking in. He wasn't going to be spineless and needy anymore. "I just thought we could get breakfast as friends, but it's cool. Thanks for last night. I really needed to get laid." And with that, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, finished getting dressed and walked out. He didn't slam doors, didn't pout, didn't turn around and say good-bye or give me a kiss or anything. He wanted me to know, that he had just booty called me.

After being a little bit hurt, I was kind of proud of him. He was going to be okay.

Exactly

"(His smile) There was a tinge of evil to it, a lot of sex, but under that was a little boy peaking out, an uncertain little boy. What was it? That was the attraction. Nothing is more appealing than an a handsome man who is also uncertain of himself. It appeals not only to the woman in us all, but the mother. A dangerous combination." from Guilty Pleasures by Laurell K. Hamilton.

Thing 2 Part 2

I can remember certain moments with Thing 2 like it was it just happened yesterday. When it comes to him, I think my mind goes into selective memory mode. He was like heroin for me. Just looking at him made me feel euphoric. Every moment before he had pulled me into the closet to confess how he felt about me, I was always very realistic and practical about our relationship. I had accepted that I would always have a crush on him. I would always watch him go in and out of relationships the rest of my life. I would always be his friend, but never anything more than that. I was fine with that. I was ready for that... as long as he was always in my life, even as a friend, that was all I needed.

It all came crashing down at that moment. I suddenly didn't know where things were suppose to go at that point and I didn't know what anything meant. He sent me an email a few days later, mostly rambling about nothing, and then at the end, it simply said "...and I miss you even though I know I shouldn't. I miss you a lot." I cried after I read that.

I still wouldn't hold my breath. He was so flakey that I didn't try to hold any false hope. So, I went about my business. My ex showed up at my place one night about 2 weeks after the closet incident, unannounced, as usual, wanting to talk. I wanted to rage at him, to tell him stop coming over and stop crowding me. He needed to let go, but I didn't say anything. I let him in, I let him sit and talk to me. I listened to him. He actually didn't even talk about us. He was just lonely, and that moment, so was I.

I probably shouldn't have let him touch my hand, I probably shouldn't of let him kiss me, or take me to my bed and let him make-love to me. I was a confused and sad, and I needed to someone in a way that only skin on skin contact could help solve... for at least a short while.

Later, when the ex was passed out in my bed, I got a call. It was Thing 2. Oh-shit.

"Hey, I'm sorry I didn't call," he said right when I picked up the phone. I moved to the living room while ex snored away.

"Hi," I said trying not to sound happy to hear from him, "how are you?"

"I'm ok. Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah," I didn't think it was the right time to bring up the fact that my ex, his cousin, was passed out in the next room after I fucked him.

"Let me just get this out of the way. I meant what I said other week, and I didn't mean it like I loved you like a friend. I meant it like I love you. Like I really love you."

"Oh,"I didn't want to disrupt his flow. It didn't sound like he was done talking.

"Haven't you ever noticed that the entire time we've been friends I've never had a girlfriend? Sure, girls I hooked up with or whatever, but not a real girlfriend?"

"I just thought you were afraid of commitment or something."

"I'm afraid of commitment with the wrong woman, sure. I always thought, in the back of mind... I wonder if you would like them, or I can't talk to her like I do with you, or I was kind of comparing them to you in ways that I wasn't even aware of. Then you broke with him, and it suddenly became clear to me. I'm in love with you. I wouldn't admit to myself when you guys were together."

I was silent for a bit. "Well what does that mean? What do you want from me?" Ok, so maybe it wasn't the most romantic reply when someone is spilling his guts to you, but I was in shock. I know this guy, probably better than anyone and I've never heard him say anything like this before about anyone he was involved with.

"I don't necessarily want anything from you... I don't think I do... I don't know, maybe... I just... I didn't really think that far ahead. I just needed to tell you. I knew that."

"Okay," I said slowly, "I'm afraid of what to say. I know how I feel, but I don't know what it means if I actually say it. "

We were quiet for a long time and then he said, "This could work, you know. We could work... "

"You know, ex is here right now. He's asleep in the other room," I said. I wanted him to know that I wasn't hiding anything.

“He just showed up, didn’t he?” he wasn’t angry. He actually had a slight laugh to his voice, like he knew it all along.

“Yeah.”

“I figured. I was talking to him earlier. He was asking if I thought he should go see you, that he really needed to see you. I told him to give you space. It wasn’t cool to just go showing up. But, I guess he couldn’t stop himself.”

I didn’t reply.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“Will you come up here?”

“I can. Why?”

“So I know there won’t be any surprise visits from all your men,” he said, not so lightly.

Thing 2

Thing 2 was going to turn out to be the boy that would be the worse thing that ever happened to me, which can also be defined as the love of my life. All the warnings and signs that you know lead to a doomed relationship, happened with Thing 2. I fell in love with him the moment I laid eyes on him. No joke. It was that jaw dropping, slow motion, from out of nowhere wind blowing through his hair moment that happened to me.

He was walking up the drive-way into the open garage facing the street. He was about 6’1”, thin and lanky, and long brown hair to about his collar. His jeans were stone washed and ripped at the knees. He was about 3 years older than my 18 years, which obviously meant he was wiser and more educated because he went to UCSB. Duh. Aside from his obviously attractive model-like body and walk, his face was perfect. Ok, maybe his nose was a little too wide and big, and it would always be a reminder that he was always going to be undeniably Filipino, to some degree, but he had the face of an angel, and I could have starred at his face forever… at him walking up the drive-way into the open garage, that bright sunny day in June 1999…of my boyfriend’s house. Thing 1 turned out to be my boyfriend’s cousin.

My timing is fucking perfect. I had been dating my boyfriend for 3 months at that point. We were having fun dating and hanging out. It was easy being with him, especially since I had just gotten out of a relationship that was rocky and volatile. Easy and fun was not something I was used to. Even my home life was traumatic. I was finally on the right track with the right guy.

And then… Thing 2 happened.

Shortly after that first meeting, Thing 2 started hanging around more often with us. When I went to college, he came by to visit on his way back up to UCSB sometimes. He would stay sometimes, but we never did anything sexual together, but we were close. We talked all the time and about everything. My boyfriend just liked having him around, and was glad that we got along. He didn’t know that I was secretly in love with Thing 2.

We remained close for about 3 years. Hanging out, talking and being strictly platonic. Which, of course, drove me completely insane. A lot can happen to a girl in 3 years. I started to become more attractive, I guess. I was also starting to like the attention.

I began seeing other boys and eventually knew I needed to break up with my boyfriend. Easy-going and natural with my boyfriend became push over and no backbone quickly.

Soon after my break-up with my boyfriend, and I was done fucking Thing 1 (sort of), Thing 2 came to me and pulled me aside one night. Actually, he pulled me in my walk-in closet while my now ex-boyfriend was waiting in the living room trying to be just friends, and had dropped by with Thing 2 to have dinner… all as friends, of course.

“What’s wrong?” I asked when he closed the door behind us in the closet.

He got down on his knees and he put his arms around my waist and said, “I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long. I love you.”

I was speechless. I instinctively put my arms around him and made him look up at me. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. I couldn’t believe it at all.

He stood up then, and kissed me softly, opened the door and walked out. They left my apartment and I was still standing in the closet.

Thing 1

I've been thinking a lot about my previous bad decisions. Basically that means, boys I fucked without thinking. This is largely due to the fact that they've been trying like hell to get in touch with my husband. Ok, so maybe Thing 1 and Thing 2 were friends with him at some point, but definitely not after I indiscriminately had sex with them, and made them fall in love with me.

Thing 1 was a hairy nightmare, but he had the most perfect looking cock. It was a good 9 inches, thick and perfectly straight. It was like a work of art. I should have had it molded. It was fun to make it all shiny. But the guy seriously needed to make best friends with waxing. So, the perfect cock was the way I justified fucking an ugly hairy loser.

I met Thing 1 through my boyfriend at the time, my husband now. They had worked together for a summer or two after high school. I was not even remotely attracted to him. But one evening in my college apartment, everyone had left after a small party my roommates and I had the first week of school, I found myself cocked and loaded and alone with Thing 1. I don't know why he stayed behind. I knew he was fond of me, but I never thought about my relationship with him beyond my boyfriend. They were pretty good friends, so I didn't consider that he was attracted to me.

My bedroom roommate went to bed and I sat on the sofa with Thing 1 and watched movies. I was bored, so I leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. My other set of roommates hadn't moved in the other bedroom yet, so without even speaking we went to the other room and I let him fuck me. I was a little shocked when I felt his hairy shoulders in the dark, worked my fingers to his back and ass, which were equally hairy. But when he slid that perfect cock into my dripping wet pussy, I didn't care I was fucking a bear.

So, I fucked him some more for the next few weeks. The guy was spectacular in bed... correction... he was a spectacular fuck, but was terrible at eating pussy. But at that point he was only the 3rd boy I had fucked, and neither of the 2 before him were anything to write home about, so I never had anything to really compare it to.

Over a short span of time, Thing 1 fell madly in love with me. It was terrible. I was flattered, and the power bitch part of me kinda liked stringing him along. As much as he was an ugly bear of a boy, he prided himself on being a very detached asshole to girls. He never had any problem bedding them, and bragged about kicking them out of his bed at 3am. I'm sure he enjoyed the ones with really cute bodies and very low self-esteems. I liked making him fall in love with me, and destroying him a little. What I didn't anticipate was that he was never going to get over it...

It's been over 10 years, and he tries to send emails to my husband to try and make-up with him... it's so bizarre. He knows through myspace and such that we are married now, and my husband is largely convinced that his only motivation is to get to me somehow. It's so pathetic and hilarious and creepy, all at the same time. The latest one came last week. He also took it upon himself to show up at my husband's parent's house to find him. Luckily no one was home.

From his myspace pics I noticed that he had finally discovered wax... so, there are such things as happy endings.

October 3, 2009

As an experiment I posted an ad on Craigslist in the personals section. I tried the strictly platonic section and casual encounters. I wanted to see what kind of people would reply, and I also wanted to find out how long a chat conversation would take to turn toward sex.

The answer is, not fucking long at all. The casual encounter replies were much more direct. You are basically stamped as whore or slut from the start, so doesn't leave much room for negotiations from the get go.

Me aka Dirty Slutty Whore: "Hi, you replied to my ad."

Horny bastard: "Hi, when do you want to hook-up?"

DSW: "Oh, I wanted to just chat first. I thought I made that clear in my ad."

HB: "I figure if you want to see each other in public first, it would be same as me hitting on you at coffee shop or bar. What difference does it make?"

DSW: "Want to at least talk first."

HB: "You're a fucking waste of time."

Short. direct and to the point I suppose. It seems like voluntary date-rape. I wonder if that approach is ever successful.

The strictly platonic section is a starting ground for people that intend to cheat on their significant others. You start off with questions about hobbies and what you like to do, etc. Then things start toward light jokes about sex, until you get full on requests for details about sex. I admit, I am guilty of the same thing. Naughty talk is the best kind of talk. Otherwise things get boring. Especially when you're dealing with chatting on the Internet. It's a little more drawn out, but it eventually ends up with, "Can you take a picture of your snatch? You can tell I'm a good guy. I just talked to you for half and hour."

October 1, 2009

October 1, 2009

I’ve had job interview upon job interview, and all I can come up with is that everything sucks. I was in Old Town Pasadena interviewing at an advertising agency. Of course, because I wanted it so badly, I didn’t get it. The competition is pretty stiff. I was going up against candidates that where art directors and went to Art Center and Creative Circus. Geez. The job was for a part-time Account Executive, and for the size of that ad agency, the AE position can be roughly translated as secretary.

On the bright side, at least I don’t feel like a loser. I am going against the best of the best for a nothing position, and the fact that I even made the interview cut is a pretty big deal…. Right? Ugh, it’s so pathetic finding a bright side in such a vacuum.

I’m also trying to decide if I should sell insurance for a living. Talk about wanting to kill yourself. Me. Selling insurance. What a fucking nightmare.

When I get like this, I try to distract myself by completely debasing myself. That’s right! It’s time for me to start fucking other men outside of my marriage. I don’t call it cheating… because I technically have my husband’s permission. While my career and financial status may be taking a nosedive… my personal life, my marriage, my family… are perfect. That shows you how unfair life is.

I like the thrill of having lovers. I love being worshipped by men who aren’t my husband. It’s both flattering and ego boosting. I walk taller, I feel prettier and I my aura is on fire with sex and confidence.

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been chatting online with a man. I love the Internet. It give my Id a place to come out and play. I wouldn’t normally be attracted to this particular type of guy, but he did provide a good amount of stimulating conversation, and that goes a long way. He’s very thin, too thin. So thin that it just isn’t right for a man of almost 6 foot tall to be that thin. He could be considered emaciated. His face was angular and square, but could be largely attributed to that fact that he was basically skin on bones. He had that dirty Robert Pattinson hygiene thing going. Which is fine… but from a distance. There's a slight undercurrent of body odor. I can't tolerate that. If you want to bump time with me you better smell like heaven. He was formerly a model, in his hay day. I expect so, being so thin, he was a great candidate for the CK One ads of the 90s, or a Fiona Apple video whore. He has that skinny dirty thing going for him. So, unfortunately... I think the skinny b.o. thing is going to beat out his very sweet personality and his admiration of me.

I'm not sure if I find him attractive. That's shallow, isn't it? But if I'm going to fuck around just to fuck around, I can be as picky as I like, and honestly, I feel like I can break him in half. I'm not trying to be femme fatal about it at all. I'm a full figured woman. A lot of women who are actually obese would say the same thing, to avoid saying they're fat, but I'm about a size 10 at 5'4" with very large 36DD breasts. If I decided to climb on top of Skeletor, I'm sure all I'd be able to feel are his hip bones poking the shit out of me. I know this from experience... trust me.