Id's Red Book

Another Long Night

2012-01-29T02:30:00.002-07:00

Tonight was a family night; me, our daughter, Cat and her husband, all hanging out and playing games. It was fun, we played video games, ate pizza, and let the kiddo stay up late.

What sucks though, is that I just got home at 10:30. It's too late to find people to go out with and too early to go to bed. So, here I am, browsing adult blogs and drinking Jack and Coke. It would be depress me if it weren't so commonplace.

I'll be leaving here in a few months and it seems really silly to try and strike up a relationship in that time. Most of my friends have already left and gone to their respective homes. There isn't anything left for me here, I'm ready to move on, I'm just stuck waiting for that final paycheck.

On a more positive note, I've rekindled an email relationship with an old flame from back home. I don't have her sending dirty pictures, or promising to jump me at the airport, but it should only be a matter of time.

Until then, though, I have this. I have the faceless amalgamation of adult blogs and readers. It's awfully fun to read through all the new posts, but at the same time it's a little annoying since I don't have anything really 'constructive' to add to the conversation.

The only interesting story I have has to do with the old flame. She sent me an email the other night, which I checked and read at work. A short story would be, she writes really, really well. The longer version is that she was complaining about how long it had been since she had sex, and a detailed list of her favorite things that she missed about it.

She went into a lot of detail.

So, I'm sitting there at work, suddenly with a raging hard on. I had to close the email and think pure thoughts for a good twenty minutes before I could stand up without embarrassing the other males in the room. It was either that or slip into a bathroom to relieve the pressure, but there isn't a whole lot of privacy in our bathrooms.

I had to wait until I was home and spent some serious time surfing the erotic fiction sites before I could compose myself enough to compose a response.

Like I said, she's the only promising addition to my sex life and she's thousands of miles away.

Until I get back, here I am, biding my time... sigh.

Slipping

2012-01-08T00:12:00.003-07:00

I've been having a rough couple of months. At this point it's all academic, doesn't really matter, but it's been bothering me enough that I really want to work it through in my own head (ie. by writing about).

So, a couple months ago I get called in to the Big Man's office. Everybody was getting called in, one by one, to be notified of the personnel cuts they were making. I wasn't really worried about it because they were only cutting a few people and I had the highest review numbers of anybody I worked with. So, I was pretty shocked when I was told they were letting me go in six months.

That messed me up pretty bad for a couple days. I had excellent marks, put gallons of blood, sweat, and tears into the firm, ten years of hard work, and I was getting fired (in six months). Hell, I was almost half way to retirement. Which is why they decided to cut me in the first place. We figured out that they were cutting all the middle managers so that we couldn't stick around until retirement, shaving thousands off the bottom line.

A week ago I get called back in to the Big Man's office. It seems they decided to cut too many of us at the same time. They needed someone to stay and help the transition. They were offering me quite a bit of money to extend my employment three months past the deadline. I was still fired, unquestionably, but if I sucked it up for a few extra months there was a big payoff.

My initial reaction was a polite "fuck off". If they didn't want me working here than I didn't want to be here. What was the point? I didn't NEED the money and I felt like they'd already taken as much of my soul as I could forgive.

However, I went and talked with Cat about it. When my employment runs out I plan on moving, there just aren't enough positions around here to justify my staying, so I wanted her opinion on the whole thing. She vehemently told me to accept the extension. I politely told her to "fuck off". She vehemently encouraged me to at least run all the figures and see how much the bonus was really worth.

So I did. It came out to almost six months of my salary on top of actually getting my salary for those three months. So nine months of pay for three months more working. That was a little harder to brush off.

I went back in this week and told the Big Man that I'd accept the extension. I don't NEED the money, don't want the work, but it would give me a lot more flexibility until I find a better job.

Maybe all of this sounds like the whining of a little bitch, there are plenty of people out there worse off than me. There are probably a lot of them that would jump at an opportunity like this. But psychologically, this whole situation has been totally fucking with my head.

I mean, I show up everyday to a job I never really liked, knowing that my days are numbered, and I just can't drum up any motivation to actually do my job. It's like showing up, finding out what the bare minimum is that I need to accomplish, doing that little bit, and then sitting around for the rest of the day humming "fuck this place". It's like purgatory, my old life is over but I can't start my new one for another eight months. I'm just taking up space, just breathing, until I can get my new life started. And I voluntarily extended the date to when I can begin again. For money. Money that I don't need. The tiny Buddhist in me cringes.

Rationally it all makes perfect sense, the time vs. money ratio is just too good to ignore, but emotionally I want to walk into Big Man's office and drop my two week notice on Monday.

So, eight more months until I can start moving on. Yippee.

A Strange Moment

2011-12-31T02:56:00.002-07:00

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." --A. Einstein

So, I'm drunk and watching this stupid movie "No Strings Attached", and in the first five minutes they mention the above Albert Einstein quote. It blew my mind, not the quote itself or the ratty movie it was incorporated in, it amazed me because that was a vein of thought that I'd been having for a long time... but for totally different rationale. Or maybe the exact same rationale, who really knows or understands Albert Freakin' Einstein?

So, atoms make up absolutely everything around us. Everything. All matter is made up of these tiny particles made up almost entirely of empty space. There's the nucleus which is VERY small, surrounded by orbiting electrons, like a tiny solar system. If you look at the world at an atomic level you can't differentiate between 'living' and not living. It's all atoms, it's all mostly empty space. It's essentially an illusion that we can 'touch' something, that it has physical mass.

At that level of magnification everything is the same. It's all teeny, tiny, little particles 'bumping' into each other electromagnetically.

So, what is the difference between me and a rock? Between me and a tree? Between me and any other object, living or not? There isn't any difference at that level.

Now, I believe my combination of atoms in exactly the right configuration leads to 'me', something I choose to believe is significant. If I am significant, that why isn't the rock significant? Why isn't the tree significant? Why isn't everything significant? If I am capable of being significant then why isn't everything significant? What is the separation between significant and not?

Look at it the other way, zoom out and look at the entire galaxy... the entire universe. What significance do I have to the universe? Next to none. And the rock? The same. There is no differentiation between all of us, between everything. We're all teeny, tiny, pieces of a large system that doesn't even recognize our individuality.

Either everything has significance or nothing has significance. If I believe that I have any meaning than I have to believe that everything has meaning.

It almost demoralizes me to hear a stupid movie quoting such a significant mind, such a significant quote. "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." That's such a profound statement. Such a profound idea.

Isn't that what makes an amazing mind? The ability to recognize similarities, to summarize profound ideas into simple phrases, to communicate to the many the ideas that can change everything.

It's amazing, amazing. Despite the source.

Long Lost Jenn

2011-12-28T05:21:00.002-07:00

When I came back from my trip to Asia in the beginning of the year me and Jenn started hooking up again. This was not a surprising turn as we'd been on-again off-again for a while now. I kind of got the feeling that I was her fuck-buddy in between her more 'serious' flings. I was perfectly Ok with that.

Then she kind of got weird when she found out that I had my divorce finalized. She more than hinted that she wanted to get more serious (Why Women Don't Make Sense, 5/9/11). Then all the sudden she disappeared.

She'd told me of some family issues back 'home'. Then she completely stopped emailing and calling. I didn't really press her. I sent one email a couple months ago kind of checking in, got nothing back.

Then a two nights ago I got a text from her:
"Been thinking about you, wish you were here"

We went back and forth a bit. I found out that she'd moved back 'home' because of the family issues and decided to stay. She'd met a girl... (Oh, I don't know how much you've read, but Jenn was a Lesbian when we met) Jenn was doing really good... and yet she was missing something. Apparently she was missing some dick. For a Lesbian she shows amazing dedication to my penis and it's various applications.

In this I'm being totally serious, before I met her she was a lesbian, after dating me she's back to being a lesbian... but she still flirts with me by text. I'm not nearly egotistical enough to believe she's actually 100% lesbian and I'm just that good. I'm pretty sure she's that small percentage of 'lesbians' who actually choose to be lesbian... most of the time. Or maybe that's more of a Bi-thing, I'm not totally up on the vocabulary. I truly believe that there are homosexuals who are born that way, who have no choice in how they feel, and I have no problem with that. There are others that I think choose to be homosexual, maybe they've had some bad experiences or something, but it's not necessarily hard-wired into them (I have no problem with them either). I think Jenn is one of those lesbians, who chooses it but still has the wiring to be able to suck dick like a pro and like it.

She sent me some pictures of the two of them, both are just too hot. Our back and forth flirting, she was sorry I wasn't around so I couldn't be part of a threesome. Gulp. If she wasn't 8,000 miles away I'd be on the next flight. Seriously, it'd cost an awful lot but what male fantasy wouldn't be fulfilled by a three-way with two lesbians? I mean, WTF, where do I sign up? Need the first born child? I can do that.

If nothing else, chatting with her totally made my night. And you never know... I might just end up in that neighborhood sometime soon. ;)

A Little Growing Up, a Lot of Backstory

2011-12-18T04:05:00.004-07:00

I hesitate to say that I'm growing up, I don't feel like I've done much 'growing up' since I was about fourteen, but I think I'm learning how to be a better 'adult'. Of course, my example for this is somewhat selfish so take it with a grain of salt. Of course, anyone who reads this blog probably keeps a bucket of it next to the keyboard.

I had an interesting thought in the shower this morning (unfortunately it wasn't the one about Kate Beckinsale). I'd woken up still utterly drunk from the night before and with one of the worst hangovers I've ever had. I crawled from bed to the bathroom, clawed my way into the shower, turned on the hot water, and sat there for an hour. During this long re-hydration period I had some time to kill and, as it usually does during periods that lack distraction, my brain went into a drunken (remember, I was still plastered) hyperdrive.

One of the multitude of topics that came up for internal discussion was Kelly, a girl I dated a couple months ago. It'd only lasted two weeks before I broke it off but there were some interesting correlations between Kelly and Cat. Both had really similar personalities, had similar interests, similar independence, similar ages, similar 'appetites'... One I married for 9 years and the other I dumped after two weeks. So my question was, what was the difference?

I poured over it in my brain until I came up with a slightly scary answer: I was growing up, making better decisions (ie. not with my dick).

When I was 21 and I married Cat I was something of a wayward youth. I'd been into a lot of drugs (had just quit when I re-met Cat), dropped out of College, and was working as a Delivery Boy with no better prospects. I was damaged goods, at least in my own head. The only women I dated were also damaged in one way or another, Cat was no exception, they were the only women that I felt I deserved.

So, I dated women who'd just gotten out of abusive relationships- I'd be shoulder to cry on. I dated women with confidence issues, I dated women with emotional issues... I never realized it at the time but my subconscious must have thought I would find some sort of redemption in women that I could 'fix'. I would lose myself in their issues and these relationships would drag on and on because I'd become their therapist/boyfriend and it would have totally devastated them if I left.

I got really used to putting myself aside, putting my goals, putting my issues, putting my life to the side and focusing on what they needed. I probably saw myself as some sort of good Samaritan but all of my own self-worth issues were eating me up inside.

Cat was basically bipolar, among a whole host of other problems caused by the swings. When she was up she was totally amazing, one of the best people I've ever known, but when she was down it was one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen. She needed a rock to lean against and I needed someone to 'fix' to distract me from myself. We were perfect for each other.

We got married, I joined the military to get out of town and get some prospects. I continued doing what I always did, I swallowed all of my own feelings and focused on her. There were some rough years.

Eventually we figured out that Cat wasn't bipolar, she was allergic to various foods. Not allergic in the violent, going into anaphylactic shock way, but the getting headaches, bloating, depression kind of way. We fixed her diet and things got a lot better. Or at least SHE got a lot better.

Then we realized that we'd grown apart. We'd had these mutual deficiencies as a basis for our relationship, her deficiency went away and she was stuck with a lazy, feel-sorry-for-himself asshole ("I'd given up everything for her" and I never let her forget it). So she wanted to separate, and I got really, really bitter. Here was this woman who I'd dedicated myself to helping, giving up everything for so long for, and as soon as she felt better she wanted out. Yeah, that bitterness didn't help anything between us. There were some really bad years, we were too broke to move away from each other, too broke to divorce, and we had a kid.

A couple years later, our finances a bit better, I was on the verge of a couple month long business trip, she told me she wanted a divorce when I got back. I went into a bit of shock, (I was blogging at that point, "Long, Long Time" 5/15/11). It was one thing to talk about Divorce, a whole other thing to actually DO it.

At that point I was a bundle of issues myself, no self-confidence (couldn't keep a wife), depressed, overweight, hated my job, and was angry at the world. Probably the only thing that saved me from myself was picking up a book on Buddhism.

I should say this, I've always been interested in Eastern religions, they actually make me think. I see Christianity as basically "Morals for Dummies", if you already have the morals to not kill somebody, and to treat others the way you want to be treated, what else is it going to teach you? Buddhism, on the other hand, is like philosophy. It asks questions, it interprets different perspectives, it will really make somebody look at their life and decisions critically. Why do you feel a certain way? What was the basis for that? What was the cause? How can you change it?

Unfortunately, I don't remember the specific passage, but there was one day that I was reading and it totally blew my mind... I was the root cause of all my problems.

For someone else, that might not have been a revelation but for years I'd been blaming Cat, blaming work, blaming the world (some pretty shitty unlucky stuff had happened to us), all these things that I had no control over. I saw myself as the the victim of a cruel, cruel fate. Then there's this book that says you're full of shit, stop being a dumbass and life will get better. And it was right.

Almost overnight I took responsibility for myself. Fate, the world, luck, things completely out of our control, whatever you call it, can definitely fuck with your life, but how you deal with it is totally up to you. You can accept the things you can't change and move on. And 90% of the things that happen to us we DO have some direct control over.

So for the past couple of years I've been a much more whole person. All of my relationships with friends and family have gotten better, work has gotten better, my life has gotten better.

And along comes Kelly. She's smart, funny, energetic, and extremely outgoing. We had a blast together. Our first date was probably the best first date I've ever had. I'm a pretty reserved person when I first meet someone but she totally blew through my walls and made me open up. She really reminded me of Cat during the good times, without any of Cat's bad times. In short, she seemed perfect.

But over the next two weeks it became obvious to me that she took no responsibility for her life. She was constantly complaining about the bad things that happened to her, but made no effort to improve her situations. It was like she was so focused on each moment that she didn't put any thought into the next moment or the costs.

There was one night she stayed over. I didn't have to get up the next morning so I asked her if she wanted me to set an alarm. She said no. Then we wake up the next morning and she panics because she's running late for an appointment, fucks my brains out, then continues to panic because now she's even more late.

And that's just one example, I could probably think of at least another dozen in the two weeks we dated.

Ten years ago she would have been the perfect woman for me, a blast to be with and still have something to 'fix'. Now, I recognize that I can't change others, they have to want to and make the change themselves. And I deserve better.

Wow, it's almost hard to write that. I deserve better. I deserve someone who's a blast to be with and has their shit together. Ten years ago I was telling myself that I deserved worse, that if a girl gave me the time of day than I fell in love because she was better than I deserved.

All those thoughts running through my drunken brain this morning and I realize that I'm growing up (a little late, I know). It's a little odd that for this lesson growing up is about becoming more selfish (and a growing feeling of self-worth), but maybe that's the lesson I'm supposed to learn in this reincarnation. ;)

A Valuable Waste of Time pt2

2011-12-14T03:13:00.005-07:00

So, after realizing that I didn't want to share absolutely EVERYthing with any-FUCKING-one I starting trying to figure out my boundaries. If I'm not willing to share everything all the time than what are my limits, what are the "you shall not pass" lines?

This is what I've figure out:

I don't want to live with someone else. Period. I don't care if you're the virgin sex god of the fucking planet and will obey my every desire... I don't want you moving in. I need my own space. After having NO personal space for the last... several decades... I can't do it any more. This is my space, I do what I want here, I decorate it (or not) however the fuck I want to, I can lock the door if I feel like it... Yeah, it's MY place. Period.

[A side note: I do miss sleeping next to someone... sometimes. That was always a comforting thing, to have someone to wrap myself around and fall asleep, or to be asleep and have a beautiful woman crawl into bed and snuggle up. Other times, when I can stretch out and don't have to share the covers... it's nice to have my own bed.]

I will not put up with anyone who needs a status update every fifteen minutes. I'm sorry, it's my fucking life, I'll share it if and when I choose to and that's it. That's always been a pet peeve of mine. If you haven't heard from me in a couple hours, BIG FUCKING DEAL, I'm probably busy or have nothing to say.

So, in summary, what I really want is a long term, part-time girlfriend. Seriously, if I could have a girlfriend for say, 3-4 days a week, I'd be absolutely happy. Anything more than that and I'd start getting that 'cornered animal' vibe in the back of my brain. When it's her off day than I don't hear from her, she doesn't poke her nose into what I'm doing and I return the favor. She can sleep over on her 'on' days but I wouldn't be offended if she chose not to. Two completely separate lives that come together a few times a week. And if, for some reason, a day needs to be re-scheduled DON'T FREAK OUT, I'm not cheating- something just came up.

I write all this, not only to amuse myself, but to express things that I believe many people feel. I'm not that original, if I'm feeling this way than I'm sure many other people are too. However, I also see that our society is not built for these kinds of relationships and most women probably wouldn't be interested in this kind of semi-commitment (unless it was on the side of their committed relationship).

Which brings me to my final point, I've never really been a fan of prostitution but I'm beginning to understand it's appeal. This 'ideal' relationship of mine is basically that of a classic Man to Mistress, both have individual lives and 'date' each other long term. Since most women probably wouldn't be interested in a semi-committed, long term relationship without monetary incentive, as with classical mistresses, this ideal relationship could almost be seen as a form of prostitution. I have a feeling most guys would be willing to invest some cash to have a relationship that follows these guide lines.

After all, as the old saying goes, you don't pay a prostitute for sex, you pay her to leave.

Women, keep that in mind the next time you're bugging your man.

A Valuable Waste of Time pt1

2011-12-14T02:32:00.004-07:00

In my work place there is a wide variety of age groups, the largest of which is early twenties. I swear to F'n God that half of the guys I work with have gotten their girlfriends pregnant and are in the process of getting married. Despite my best efforts to talk them out of the marriage portion (I can understand them wanting to get their kid on their work insurance, but most of them have no idea what they're in for).

With all of this matrimony going on around me I can't help but reflect.

I remember being a twenty-something, "in love", and ready to totally dedicate my life to be with someone else, to share everything in sickness and in health, blah blah blah... I remember the naivete. So, it's so frustrating to see these younger guys making the same mistakes despite the best advice they can get. Every single one thinks that they are different, that their situation is different, that they know better, that they're smarter or better decision makers. Us older, mostly divorced guys try our best to keep this younger generation from making our mistakes... but the words always fall on deaf ears. Damn, I'm feeling like an old man.

During all of these conversations I've come to realize the biggest problem that I have with modern versions of relationships, especially marriage, is that I hate not having a private life. It seems like every 'serious' relationship involves sharing absolutely everything with each other, it's like some co-parasitic relationship where both parties suck all the life out of each other.

I mean, these days if you don't respond to a text in the next 5-10 minutes you could have a serious issue on your hands when you finally write back. When I was married, there were times when she'd write me while I was at work, I wouldn't be able to write back, and by the time I did she was frothing at the mouth.

Did they have these issues back in the day?
"I'm sorry babe, I didn't see the smoke signal."
"Well, why the fuck weren't you looking for it!?!?"
"I was."
"Then why the fuck didn't you write me back?!?!"
"I was trying to avoid being eaten by a mountain lion."
"You're telling me you couldn't take two seconds out to reply?"
"... sorry dear, it won't happen again."

With this constant flow of information, with instant access to almost everything, it's like our society is wiring itself to negate privacy entirely. If it isn't public than it's shady, or secretive, or non-responsive, or being elusive, etc. If you ask for anything for yourself than you are one hell of a selfish son-of-a-bitch.

But is that what we really want? Is that what we really need? Is that why there is a record high percentage of divorces in this country? Would anyone be happy sharing ABSOLUTELY everything about themselves?

Melissa

2011-11-24T00:40:00.005-07:00

One of my daughter's best friends lives a couple of blocks over. I never hang out with the family and hardly ever take my daughter over there. This reluctance confuses my ex and my daughter to no end. Why not, when they're so close by? For the most part they think that I'm just being a hermit, an opinion I encourage.

When I first met the family it was a young, divorced dad, with a daughter and his girlfriend. The whole family unit was really nice, all great people. And I totally fell for the girlfriend in the first five minutes.

She's totally gorgeous. Dark hair, amazing curves, and a few incredibly tasteful, hot, tattoos. Not only all of that... she's spunky, and fun, and smart, and just plain awesome. She has all the good qualities of my ex-wife and none of her faults. Just about perfect in every way.

The first time we hung out it was all I could do to avoid getting caught staring at her chest. She wore a low cut, black tank top that showed off her amazing breasts as well as her tattoos. It would have been totally impossible to not look, nearly impossible not to stare, and barely possible to not get caught.

She carried herself in the way of the totally un-self-conscious, completely confident, totally gorgeous women, completely comfortable with their own body and sexuality. Even wearing her 'casual' outfit of jeans and tank top, the way she carried herself- and her raw sexual appeal, every male eye was glued to her.

Between trying not to get caught staring, trying not to drop my jaw every time I looked at her, it was impossible to even attempt to follow the conversation. I was totally and utterly captivated. This is probably the only time in my adult life that I actually felt 'dumbstruck' by the mere presence of a woman.

I left as soon as I politely could, it was too much effort every moment trying not to embarrass myself. Had her boyfriend, the divorced Dad, been anything other than a really, really nice guy (and big enough to pound me to dust) I would have to have tried to take her away.

If I wasn't going to try and take her away than I had to STAY away.

There's only been a couple times in the past year or so that we've all been in the same place at the same time. She went from girlfriend, to fiance, to pregnant wife.

The last time was Halloween, we were all to trick-or-treat the neighborhood together. The Husband had to head back early, so it was me and her and the kids. Her all dressed up like a sexy Angel. We bullshitted around for an hour together, talking and joking... Not fair. Not fair at all.

I just heard today that they'll be over for Thanksgiving, which means I'm going to have to avoid the egg nog or it's going to be a really, really interesting holiday.

So Many Things

2011-11-10T12:54:00.002-07:00

There are so many things I need to write about and so little sobriety. I've met women, I've laid women, I've been a very bad man sometimes... but I haven't been writing much. Why, you ask. Well, mostly I've been spending too much time in a drunken stupor, railing against the inequalities perceived in life, railing against the retarded world we live in, railing against the return of the McRib (who eats that shit anyway?).

The first post of my "catching up" phase is something that brought a smile to my face and will hopefully bring one to yours.

You see, several months ago, in a moment of extreme weakness (or inebriation, I can't remember which) I signed up for a dating site online. Match, perhaps you've heard of it? I'd purchased a new phone and it came with an app for the site. You could set up an account, upload photos, set up a site, and view incredibly attractive women from the area for free. Of course, to actually use the site or communicate with anyone you had to pay some cash. I got an email from a local cutie and ended up paying 30 bucks to be able to access the email. What a scam.

I rationalized the expense as doubling my exposure. I meet women in real life and I have a dude in cyber space constantly trolling for women. Win-win, right?

Well, after a couple months I only met two women. Both were equally insane, one a more obvious insane and the other a more subtle, lying in wait, kind of insane. Neither were worth my time. I'm not stupid enough to fall for most of their crap. Believe me, Cat was an extremely competent manipulator and all of these other pretenders were extremely laughable in comparison.

So, today I canceled my membership to Match. There was a section you had to fill out to complete the cancellation, part of which was a justification and another part which was 'how do we improve our services'. I absolutely couldn't help myself, I had to tell them what I thought.

The first block was 'Why are you leaving?' It included things like 'I met someone' or 'I can't afford membership' or 'I haven't met anyone interesting'... that kind of stuff. The last option was 'other' and included a blank text block to fill out. This was my response to 'other':

"I'm becoming a monk because all women are crazy. They say there's a million fish in the sea, but in reality there are so few edible ones that they're in really high demand. If women are resorting to dating sites than they are obviously having issues meeting good guys, therefor they are in the majority of crazy women. Even worse, most guys will put up with crazy for an attractive woman. So, if they are resorting to dating sites than they are obviously crazy and/or unattractive. Those are the two options for us guys online; lots of crazy and hot, less crazy and ugly. Low supply = high demand, further proving that psychosis is all too common in women, over-inflating the value of any half-way decent females."

I thought I was done at that point but the next page had another blank text block. It was a 'tell us more' section. Up to a thousand words, hmmm...
"As listed in the previous block; all women are crazy. What you need to do is advertise to the stupid, lonely, hopeless people (which I suppose you do already). Get them to sign up, and because it'll never work out for them, they'll keep paying. Obviously, you have a vested interest in not finding connections, or at least dragging it out for a few months, otherwise you don't get paid. So, you really need the stupid, lonely people to sign up, they're dumb enough to believe in online dating and willing to keep paying for the service. Any of the smarter people (I barely consider myself in this category, I've given you far too much money to be very intelligent) will realize that single women are single for a reason, they're ugly or crazy. I would rather circumcise myself with fingernail clippers than get seriously involved with any of the women I've met through your site (which I'm presuming is a fairly accurate cross section of the female presence in online dating). Yeah, not paying any more."

Yes, those are the actual responses I sent to them. I edited a misspelled word or two but otherwise they're unchanged. At the very least I figure some IT guy will get a laugh out of it when they're reading the responses for the month. Otherwise, it'll just get tossed without review and maybe a couple of you will get a laugh out if it. Logical, economically accurate, and yet still amusing. Sometimes I amaze myself. And sometimes I disappoint myself, ie. signing up for some crap website in the first place.

Chive on.

Women in their thirties

2011-08-27T03:17:00.002-07:00

So, basically, for a man, dating in your thirties is about the worst possible thing ever. Nearly every woman, no disrespect intended, is looking for a step up in the world. They are looking for security (someone to take care of them), comfort (someone to take care of them), and romance (someone to romance them, then take care of them)...

As a newly single male in his thirties... it is absolutely disgusting and frustrating to meet single women around the same age. They're either single and looking for the above mentioned, or they're divorced and have kids and baggage. What's a single dude to do?

I have to say though, I never laughed as much when I was dating in my twenties. Now, it seems like pretty much every time I meet a single thirty-something woman it's a laughable affair. It's either all about sex or it's all about marriage and kids. There is absolutely NO middle ground.

And the saddest part of all is how the women UNIVERSALLY try to use sex as a manipulative device. If and when they decide you are a worthwhile prospect, it is inevitable. In our culture, women are basically raised to see their sex as their only 'value'. After consciously deciding to be away from sex for a while it is absolutely hilarious to see a woman try and use her 'wiles' to seduce a specific reaction out of you.

I'm not sure what is worse, trying to date in your thirties or being forced to see our culture displayed in such a blatant fashion. Seriously, it's depressing on both fronts. I'm starting to wonder if I shouldn't just wait until my forties, when everybody is out of their shitty marriages and ready to look at a realistic version of their future rather than their idealized version of what they want. A woman's version of success should not have anything to do with 'who' they marry, or the lifestyle and success they marry into.

I guess we'll just see how it goes, it's certainly not looking very good so far...

Dating Disasters

2011-08-21T03:22:00.003-07:00

This is why the whole dating thing is so fucked up these days. Especially in Arizona.

Since getting the divorce from Cat finalized I decided I was going to be a bit less of a player and start actually looking for something a little more domestic. I am absolutely, 100%, NEVER getting married again but a long-term girlfriend would be kind of nice. There were aspects of being married that I enjoyed, having someone else to depend on, being in a partnership of sorts... it was just all the other crap that sucked.

So I've been reaching out a bit to try and meet some new women... and I've been universally disgusted by the way things are going. It's not hard to just find some chick to fuck, it's hard to find one that can hold a conversation and be a civilized human being.

A buddy of mine suggested I check out a friend of his that worked across town, he exchanged our email addresses and introduced us electronically. Phoenix is a big city, so it was more of a complication than it would have been otherwise. She seemed nice enough and the pics she sent were promising. The problem was that our schedules just didn't match up. I'd set up a date and time and she'd get stuck at work. She'd set up a date and I'd get called back in to work... All in all it took two months to actually get to meet in person, we met last night at a local pasta restaurant/bar.

First off, she was over an hour late. She sent me a text to let me know she was running "late" and didn't deem to mention exactly how late she was going to be. So I ordered some drinks and some appetizers figuring she'd be fifteen or twenty minutes late. An hour later...

At least she looked good when she walked in. She wore and incredibly low-cut lacy top and short cut-off jean shorts. Definitely dressed for a good night out... or a good night in depending on how lucky I was.

Withing moments of her sitting down, within seconds of her opening her mouth, I realized exactly how mentally challenged she was. Take an average IQ and cut it in half. Seriously. Try and hold a decent conversation with a four year old, that's about the quality of our back-and-forth.

I kept hoping she'd drink more so that she would relax a little bit. She seemed very tightly wound and probably could have won a medal for 'least words spoken by a women over a dinner' or 'most one-word answers in a conversation'.

Despite her lacking vocabulary it was apparent that we were very different people. If I liked something than she hated it. If I hated something than she loved it. She spent a good half hour describing the life cycle of the dozens of cats that she'd owned over her lifetime. She constantly forgot details of my life that we had just talked about and she made very frequent trips to the bathroom. Looking back I'm beginning to wonder if she was going off to use some sort of illicit substance, or maybe taking another litium.

At one point she asked what kind of jobs my parents have... and followed up by asking if they were caucasian. Except the word 'caucasian' has too many syllables so she asked if they were 'white'. She was wondering because I seemed 'squinty'.

About an hour after she got to the restaurant she said she was going to be getting up early the next morning and needed to leave. I was OK with that, I'd been checking my watch pretty regularly. With the abruptness of our parting I would be amazed if we jump the many scheduling hurdles to make it back out together again. On one hand that is a disappointment because she is an attractive woman, on the other hand she doesn't have much else to offer.

So, the total cost of the date: $80
Total time with date: 60 minutes
I'm pretty sure that's about the running cost of a cheap hooker with much less return for the investment. The equation also doesn't take into account an entire evening wasted and driving all the way across the city... then back again. Very disappointing.

What is it with dating at Thirty? Are all the good women taken by this point? Or is it just that all American women are becoming stuck-up and useless? You can find intelligent women with good senses of humor and good personalities... but they're unattractive. Or you can find attractive women who show up late for dates, leave early, and do their thinking with their boobs. Where's the middle ground? The closest I've found are divorcees with kids, and I don't really need the baggage they've got (only slightly hypocritical statement).

Is it hopeless? Am I going to have to simply stick to my womanizing ways or are there any decent women left?

School Daze

2011-05-27T00:26:00.002-07:00

Since the divorce I've had a little more time to myself. Recently, I decided that it might be a good idea to take a few classes on the side, spruce up on the three 'R's and all.

Yeah... Whoever thought it was a good idea to let me enroll in college was an idiot. You ever hear the phrase "a Fox in the hen house"? Literally the only thing I've learned, or in this case re-learned, is the bountiful joys of staring at 19 year old women for hours on end.

There is one, I swear she is Betty Page reincarnated. Absolutely gorgeous in the 50's pin-up girl kind of way. You know, the image that Katy Perry goes for but falls short of? (Not that Katy Perry isn't gorgeous too, but she's a little too 'pop' to pull off a Betty Page). This girl, who would easily pass for mid twenties, curves pulled straight from the mind of a hormonal teenage boy, sits about two seats away from me. Today she was wearing one of those High School Senior hoodies. Yeah, she graduated from High School last year. She's nineteen. Oooohhh... it's enough to cause physical pain to my loins just to look at her.

And she's not the only amazingly attractive woman in class. I use the term 'woman' very loosely here, they are barely old enough to drive. And yet, they're all of legal age...

I've managed to keep my hands to myself for the time being, but really, it's only a matter of time.

Why Women Don't Make Sense

2011-05-19T00:15:00.003-07:00

I've often thought that every woman had a streak of crazy. The more women I meet, the more time I spend with them, the more convinced I am. Seriously, fucked up in the head.

When Jenn and I started hooking back up it was business as usual, NSA fun for the both of us. We'd meet up late at night, jump into the sack, knock each other's socks off, and go back to our normal lives. Neither of us had a problem with that.

Then the last time we were laying in bed together, just finished up an amazing round of sex, panting and sweaty... we were just doing the normal pillow talk thing and I mentioned that my divorce had recently gone through. At the time I didn't notice anything odd, we continued to BS until it was time for me to head home, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then a couple days ago she started to get a little weird. She asked me out on a date, which was new but not that odd, and then she said 'maybe we could JUST do dinner'. I thought maybe she had something else she needed to do, or she had to get up early, so I joked about how we wouldn't be able to keep our hands off each other. Then she got all sober. She said that because we were both single now that maybe we should take this more seriously.

I still wasn't quite understanding. I kept bugging her until she explained. It turns out that as long as one of us was unavailable than she was fine with tons of casual sex, but now that we were both single she wanted more of a relationship. Which somehow meant that we shouldn't be having sex.

I was still confused. I've always thought that Jenn was a cool chick, I've said that before in multiple posts. My divorce just went through so I'm not looking to get married again, but I'd told her that I was very interested in getting to know her better. Less intercourse, in the interest of spending more time together vertical, I can see it. But why would we entirely stop having the terrific sex?

As I understand it now, somehow in her mind the two are mutually exclusive. Relationship and sex cannot coexist until it has reached the proper level of commitment... but she was cool with us having lots of sex last week... and now that she knows I'm actually single she is all weird about sex.

As good with women as I am, their logic is far too wiggly for me too keep up with for long. A guy would say "we have a pretty good thing going, lets see if we can build on it" and the woman says "we had a good thing going, but now it's time for something totally different".

I'll just have to see how this whole thing plays out because I suddenly have a bad feeling about the whole thing. Like, now that I'm 'single' I can be played or something... and if I feel like she's trying to play me than this is not going to last long.

The BJ Vampire pt2

2011-05-17T23:31:00.003-07:00

Continued...

(Writing this reminds me of a chick I knew once who kept a bottle of pepto-bismol in her purse for when swallowing too much upset her stomach)

So, a chick who is constantly sucking your dick, asking nothing in return... almost sounds like the perfect girlfriend, but there was something about it that just didn't sit right.

MC was in the process of moving, so she was staying with her parents until the new place became available and with Cat at home we couldn't go to my place... We half-joked a couple times about getting a hotel room but she wasn't comfortable with that while she was 'living under her parents roof', even if just temporarily. So other than messing around in the car there wasn't much else we could do.

But there was still some weird undertone to the whole thing that made me uneasy.

I'd get a blowjob, be laid-back, drowsy even, and she would get this glint in her eye. She'd be cheerful and bouncing off the walls, like a crack addict who'd just gotten a hit. Before I really felt awake again she'd have my pants unbuckled and start at it again, going for another hit. I'd be falling asleep at the wheel by the time I dropped her off. And she was never really interested in anything for herself. I kind of got the feeling she was using me, or getting ready to use me, or... I don't know... up to something. I was too tired to think about it much, and they were sooooooo good.

Then one night I remembered a passage I read about Samurai warriors. Their semen was equated to their strength, their energy, their very 'warrior' spirit. They could have sex as often as they wanted but were not allowed to come more than once a week (I bet their wives loved that, a perpetually hard husband) or they would be dangerously weakened. And boxers, who aren't allowed to have sex while training for a big fight.

Then all of the unease coalesced into focus. She was feeding on me, literally and figuratively. The next time she went to go down on me she looked up, our eyes met, and I got chills. In all the good horror movies that was EXACTLY the way the monster looked at their prey before ripping out their throat. And I knew I had been right, that this was not a relationship, it was me the buffet for her to peruse at will. I was the willowy, blood-drained woman, laying sick in bed, dreading the night when the feeding will begin again and yet addicted to it at the same time.

For a couple days I tried to fend her off, tried to get her interested in anything else. It didn't work, she wasn't interested in anything else. It didn't last long after that.

Some nights when I'm trying to fall asleep I think of her, partly aroused but mostly with a worm of fear creeping through my gut, like I might look out the window and see her pale face looking in on me. When she isn't at the window I think that with her talents I'm sure she has a new boyfriend and she is probably still out there, right now, feeding...

Wooooo oooo ooo... a sexual ghost story! The scariest part being that it is as entirely true as I can write it.

The BJ Vampire

2011-05-17T23:09:00.003-07:00

Ha! I knew that title would get your attention! This has been a blog a long time in the making.

About two years ago, shortly after me and Cat had separated, I met MC. This was my first fling after being completely monogamous (mostly, there was a thing with a much younger woman for a while but I'm not sure it really counted. That's a whole story of it's own). She introduced herself as MC and that was what I called her. It wasn't until a while later that I learned that her name was Cat, and that MC stood for Miss Cat. That coincidence creeped me out a bit but before the end of the fling it wasn't the creepiest thing about her.

Our first date was going to a movie. We pulled into the lot and sat there a minute talking, we were a little early. Out of the blue she asked if I wanted a BJ before the movie.

I like to think there aren't many things that a woman can say that would totally shock me, but this woman I barely knew offering to suck me off within about 15 minutes of hanging out was a little shocking.

I accepted, of course, and was blown away by how good she was. Imagine a washing machine set to 'agitate' wrapped around your most sensitive organ and you get some idea. By far the best BJ I have ever gotten. She was so good that we didn't even miss the opening previews.

We watched the movie like giggly teenagers, flushed and hormonal. She had an early morning the next day so we went to drop her off as soon as the movie finished. She had me pull into a darkened alley just before her block and asked if I wanted another BJ.

Of course! Just as good as the first, perfect wrist to mouth ratio. This chick could give lessons, boyfriends would line up around the block to sign up their girlfriends. Simply amazing.

Afterwards I offered to return the favor but she said she really needed to get to bed. So I dropped her off. For a dude, best date ever, right!?!

Well, this pattern continued for the next couple of dates. Before, during, and after... as many BJ's as a guy could ask for, but she always sidestepped sex or me going down on her, or even getting to third base! It definitely started to get a little wierd.

Stay tuned for The BJ Vampire pt2

Broken Streak

2011-05-15T22:44:00.003-07:00

If I could remember the date I would give you an exact length but a year ago getting laid was not that big of a deal. Suffice it to say, it had been a little longer than a year. When the time came to break the streak I was actually kind of nervous.

So I got a call from Jenn shortly after I got back, because of some scheduling problems it took a couple weeks to get together.

By the time I got the call I was feeling pretty comfortable with myself. I've had an interest in Buddhism for a while and had done a lot of reading over this interim. What I like about many Eastern religions is that it's all about questions that you have to answer for yourself. I spent a lot of time coming up with those answers and I'm a much more satisfied person for it. It was time to start expanding the tiny circle I'd been living in.

On the drive over to Jenn's house I had some butterflies. Not only was I worried about performance (for obvious reasons), I was worried about the psychological affect it would have on me. Picture a heroine addict, clean for a year, about to shoot up. Is all that I gained in the past year going to fly out the window after this? Will it awaken a sex-crazed man in me that I can't put away? I mean, how much time and energy do we men dedicate to the pursuit of women? I didn't want to go back to that life-style. I know it sounds silly but those worries were all running through my head.

Almost as soon as I got there I realized all my concerns were groundless. Yeah, I was attracted to her but if she wanted to back out it wouldn't have been that big of a deal. We started to mess around, no big deal.

Then we broke my streak. Afterwards I was almost disappointed at how little it impacted me. No bells, no confetti, it really wasn't that big a deal. Not that it wasn't fun, because it definitely was (performance was definitely NOT an issue, just like riding a bike I guess). Then I was relieved because the experience showed me that it is possible to have a relationship, sexual or not, and still keep the confidence and comfort that I've built with myself.

Sex is an important part of living and relationships, but it doesn't have to be such a focus point. I said before, the money and time and energy that is put into attracting others is insane. It doesn't have to be like that. But that doesn't mean I'm not looking forward to more of it.

Long, long time

2011-05-15T00:54:00.005-07:00

So, dear Readers, it has been quite a long time since my last post. No, I haven't forgotten you, you've been in my thoughts frequently in this long interlude. Part of the reason for my delay has been work... it has been... busy. And partly I've been on a sabbatical.

I previously put out that I would be going to parts of Asia on business for a couple of months. That couple dragged into five months and just before I left I was put on notice, that as soon as I returned divorce papers would be filed. Swoon if you didn't see it coming, but I did and it wasn't that much of a shock. But it did make me think. It's one thing to know that theoretically something is happening in the future, like knowing a pregnant wife is going to give birth, another thing to get the call that she is in labor.

So I had this shock, I'm going to Asia and when I get back I'll be "officially" single again (I've acted like I was single for a long time now, if you've been reading, but this was different). She was moving out of my house and into the house of her (now long-term) boyfriend. So I left, a little emotionally confused, a little uncertain of my future...

Now, not to paint too grim a picture of the modern male, but most guys probably would have had a lot of fun in the "bath houses" once they realized they were getting divorced. And I had plenty of opportunity. For those who don't know, there is a particularly interesting tradition in some Asian countries. It would be denigrating to put it in the same category as 'prostitution' but there are 'bath houses' in which men hire women to bathe and massage them, these women are totally compliant with every whim of the men. Every whim. Think of it as prostitution to the tenth degree. To a soon-to-be-divorced man the idea of a totally subservient woman who would do ANYTHING is a nearly unimaginable concept. An incredibly appealing unimaginable concept.

And yet I declined. At first it was subconscious, then the longer it went on the harder it was to deny to myself. I was celibate. Then, after about a while I was practically re-virginized. And yet I continued despite the options.

I meditated. I slept. I worked out. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what exactly I was, who I was. Who I wanted to be. After a little while I realized that sex wasn't that big of a deal. I'm sure many of you have made the same realization. Sex is much like "love", that we're told over and over and over again is essential as air and yet it is one thing when we've never really looked at it for ourselves, come up with our own definition, decided what it means to us.

So I went over a year without sex.

It almost hurts to say that, the conscious-social reaction being that an admission like that completely changes the way that others look at you. Why is that?

But along the way I consciously decided that I wanted to go without sex, without constraints, without anyone else's opinion or influence.

I came back, the divorce was finalized without complaint by either side. I continued in the same vein. After the first couple of months it wasn't that big of a deal. I went out with a couple of women who, under the influence of culture, had a massively inflated sense of worth (due to the fact that they had a pussy). If anything, a year of not having sex has broken the illusion that pussy is a necessary commodity.

After a year of celibacy it's hard to keep a straight face when a woman tries to play you. How often do women get refused? Though, I'll tell you it drives them nuts when you do.

It sounds crazy to actively try and keep oneself away from the opposite sex, but is it really? I wanted to know what I was like when other people weren't around. I wanted to know what kinds of things I did when I actually had free time, what kinds of things I would spend money on when I didn't have a spouse or significant other looking over my shoulder. Who would I be when I wasn't attached?

Those are questions I'm still trying to answer. I think those are questions that most of us are still trying to answer. By taking out the complications, maybe we can get some answers.

I would very much like to write to you about the things I have learned. Stay tuned.

Uninteresting Interlude

2010-07-20T04:32:00.003-07:00

So, it's been a long time since I've written. My life has fallen apart, been built back up, gone crazy, etc. Nothing particularly important. As I've been putting the pieces back together I've been doing a lot of thinking. Some good, some bad, some of the same circles of though going around and around.

It all comes back to a main point... women and relationships are far too time/energy (and money) intensive. For all the good things that come from relationships I'm not sure I believe they are worth the effort anymore.

I feel like I've gotten myself into a pretty good place mentally. My confidence is higher than it's been in a long time. I've made goals and am working towards them. Whereas all of the women (and most of everyone for that matter) that I meet are the complete opposite. They need energy, they need time, they need reassurance, they need... period. They need. They're all needy. I want to bring good energy into a relationship and receive positive energy in return, even if it's a one night relationship. A minute, an hour, a month... Instead, I give and give and give... and there's nothing back. Well, there's sex. But even sex isn't that interesting when they don't have the mentality to back it up.

So, I sit here by myself most nights. I study for upcoming exams. I work out, I learn, I play music and I write. Sometimes I get lonely but then I look at the people I know in relationships and I see them going around in the same circles without progressing anywhere, satisfied with mediocrity and draining on each other. It simply reaffirms my feelings of better-off-without...

On some level I always considered myself a romantic and suddenly there doesn't seem to any 'romance' to look forward to. I guess there's the possibility of finding someone special at some point but that feels less and less likely as the days go by.

Like everything else in life I guess I'll just have to wait and see how it goes.

Apologies

2010-02-11T00:49:00.002-07:00

My apologies to my loyal readers (the whole handful of you) for my tardy blog posts. Somewhere along my virtual travels my beloved laptop exchanged information with a questionable source and picked up a nasty STD. The "Internet Security 2010" virus is (after some research) not that difficult to get rid of... unless you restart your computer (like I did), in which case it corrupts Windows to the point where it won't actually load anymore. I spent about a week trying to repair it on my own before realizing my meager computer knowledge was woefully inadequate and turned it over to some professionals, so I find myself essentially computerless for the time being.

I refuse to write on someone else's computer, or a work computer, so I won't be contributing blogs until the geniuses at the computer store work their way around to repairing mine. My blog withdrawals have led to long periods of headaches and the shakes, so believe me when I say that as soon as it is repaired I will be back tainting the web with my own brand of devious, soul-leeching, commentary.

-Johnny

P.S. If you happen to know the mentally challenged person who wrote the IS2010 virus please email me their name and address so that I can personally tar and feather them before dissecting them with nail clippers (it's possible and very, very painful).

Everything or Nothing pt 1

2010-01-06T02:14:00.004-07:00

Recent activities, or lack of activity in certain areas, has led me to a really introspective past couple of weeks, not to be mistaken for nostalgia/celebration due to the rollover into a new year.

Anyone who's kept up with here knows that I haven't been exercising my womanizing muscles (dirty thoughts anyone?) for the past couple months. I had a close call with Nikky's pissed off husband and basically blown off by Jenn. Those two things mixed in with thanksgiving vacation and a busy work schedule have resulted in a lot less adventure in my personal life. Watching Cat go through some relationship craziness over the past week has probably also helped give me pause when considering a social life again. She's more a player than me and yet still invests more emotion in each of her boyfriends, so when things go poorly (which they almost inevitably do) they go bad pretty fast.

For a while I was going a little crazy with cabin fever (otherwise known as monogamy), but that settled down and it seemed like my mind began to clear... I actually had the time and space to think about my life, my choices, my future, and I began remembering a younger version of myself.

In High School and a few years following, I sensed myself balancing on a tight rope over two chasms and became somewhat obsessed with the concept of duality. I could clearly see myself falling into a normal, in the box, monogamous, parental, boring and yet successful life. I could also see myself in a myriad of other lives, lives I was equally fascinated by, penniless traveler, altruistic volunteer, drug addict, criminal, beach bum... the list went on and on but I found myself breaking down all these possibilities into two major categories. Not to be too predictable but they became good vs. evil.

That one mind could so clearly understand and lust after all those things at once amazed me. I could feel dozens of little strings pulling me in different directions, different possibilities. It was just as desirable to be loving father as it was to be a heart-less killer. Those options and others completely appealed to different parts of my brain, my personality, and none seemed to be more desirable than others.

The problem I kept coming back to was that I wanted to do everything. I wanted to taste, to touch, every little possibility that life offered. What is it like to hold your child for the first time? What is it like to publish a book? What does it feel like to break a man's legs? What is it like to rob a bank? What thoughts go through your head, how do you feel, how does it change your life, how would you feel about yourself afterwards... And yet it's obvious that so many of these options once taken would exclude others. You can't be a soulless criminal and do peace corps on the side, or be and abusive man and a good father.

So rather than choosing something decisively, I avoided making any large decisions to avoid loosing any options. Of course, not choosing is a choice all it's own. I ended up with responsibilities, people who depend on me, and that limited plenty of possibilities. Ten years later and I still feel every single one of those strings.

Stay Tuned for Everything or Nothing pt 2

A Year In

2009-12-29T02:00:00.003-07:00

So, my dear readers, it has been an interesting year. Plenty of ups and downs, ins and outs (as they were), and definitely a few bumps along the way. In summary, it's been a year pretty well lived.

1. There were many new sexual partners!
2. No STDs, and only one scare (read The Steam Room)
3. No Pregnancies, and only one scare (still pretty sure it wasn't mine)
4. Learned a lot of new tips and tricks from these new partners
5. Mostly managed to keep my sex life separate from my normal life
6. Managed to avoid any serious trouble with the law
7. Didn't wreck my car
8. Had fun discovering blogging
9. Finances are looking slightly better than last year
10. And managed not to scar my daughter in any new ways (nothing a few thousand in therapists bills can't fix)

So really, it was lived almost exactly to the limit without crossing any big lines. And only a few scares involved along the way. All in all, it was pretty successful.

Among my favorite moments:
Movies with Jenn (Journey Through Jenn)
Lunches with Nikky (Two Twos for Thursday)
And exploring my own dominant side (Blowjobs and Pics)

And my favorite sex tip learned:
Though seemingly awkward, eating a chick out from behind can be very rewarding. It changes the psychology of the act, she can't see what you're doing and it's a more 'vulnerable' position.

It's been mostly good and what wasn't so good I've learned from. I hope that all of you can say the same about yours.

In the Spirit of the Holidays

2009-12-26T00:20:00.004-07:00

Every once and a while, during the Christmas season, I remember this story and smile.

Once upon a time, when I was serving in the Navy (Did my time and got out, thank god!), I got into a bit of a situation with a couple of my buddies. We could have gotten into a lot of trouble and probably spent the holidays in Jail but for the generosity of an Georgia State Trooper.

We had just finished a short training exercise on an Aircraft Carrier stationed out of Virginia. We'd flown up with our command from our home station in Key West, Florida, spent a month on the ship and were getting ready to fly back home when we got news of a blizzard headed our way. The Airports closed down, nothing coming in or going out. Snow piled up on the runways, then melted a bit, then re-froze into ice, then more snow would fall on top... In short, it was no weather to try and fly in.

It was less than three days until Christmas.

We spent an extra night on the ship, hoping the weather would clear and we could fly home. The next morning we were all called into a meeting with our Commanding Officer. He told us that the weather was still too bad to fly and that he was allowing us to rent vehicles and drive home or we could wait and hope that the weather cleared in time.

Myself and three buddies decided that driving might not be faster but at least it was guaranteed to get us home in time. Barely. It was close to a fourteen hour drive, it would be expensive, a pain in the butt, but we'd be back 'home' for Christmas.

All of our bags were already packed up in the planes so we ran around rental car agencies in our working uniforms. It was totally against the rules but we didn't have anything to change into. And of course nobody wanted to rent a car to four young military guys who wanted to drive it over a thousand miles. It took us four hours to find a place willing to let us try it (and only with a large security deposit!)

Finally we were on the road, 34 hours before Christmas.

Thankfully the roads were clear of the snow and ice that plagued the airfield and we made really good time. The speeding probably helped. We rotated our drivers every couple hours and stopped frequently for food and caffeine.

Six hours later we stopped in South Carolina for gas. Feeling a little self conscious in our working uniforms (we looked like rumpled car mechanics) we filled the car and grabbed some maps. The attendant looked us over, realized we were headed south, and pulled me aside.

"Watch out for the cops in Georgia, they're really bad down there!" He warned me. I thanked him, somewhat uneasily, and we left.

We'd definitely been speeding the entire trip, probably averaging over a hundred most of the way.

A couple hours later, deep into Georgia, the speed limit was 65. We were doing about 95. Unbeknown to us, there is a stretch of the highway where the limit randomly drops to 45. There was an Georgia State Trooper about ten feet past the sign for the new speed limit. Unbeknown to us, he scanned us doing a Hundred. He turned on his lights and sirens.

We noticed the lights about five minutes later and pulled over. Of course, I was driving at that point.

"God damn, you guys were going fast! I been trying to catch up with you for the last four miles!"

Shit. Not much to say to that.

He looked us over, obviously noticing us in uniform.

"Where are you fellas going so fast?"

We told him the story, almost getting stuck in Virginia for Christmas and trying to get back home.

"You realize that the speed limit was 45, right?"

We hadn't.

"Ya'll were doing almost 60 over. You realize that anything more than 30 over and I can put you in jail?"

We hadn't known that either.

"License and registration please..."

Shit.

He took the papers back to his car and ran our info. We fidgeted, we cussed... I wondered what exactly to tell the wife. How long is that one phone call allowed to be? I didn't even know where in the hell we were.

A couple minutes later he came back, handed me our papers.

"Sorry for delaying you fellas, you get back home for the holidays. Safely though... slow down a bit." Then he turned and walked back to his car.

We sat there, dumbfounded. We didn't understand the gift we'd been given until he pulled out from behind us and left. Not only had he not put us in jail, he didn't even give us a ticket...

We got back on the highway, and despite drastically lowering our speed we did make it home in time for Christmas. We were greeted by our loved ones and had a wonderful holiday.

Every year at this time I wish I'd gotten that State Trooper's name, I'd love to send him a nice Christmas card. He probably doesn't remember us, but we definitely remember him.

HNT Boycott

2009-12-20T01:56:00.007-07:00

This has been stewing for a little while, finally I just had to say something.

When I first started this blog I spent some time searching out others with similar interests. I noticed this thing called "HNT" and the photos that it inspired. The first few sites intrigued me, they way they were done they assumed that the reader understood what "HNT" was but I didn't have a clue. It looked like fun, I thought I might give it a try. So I poured through some sites, each linked to another that linked to another until I found the originator of this interesting phenomenon. What I found surprised me:

"It was suggested that I include the inspiration for "Half-Nekkid Thursday". I would agree. Originally, I credited Cathy with posting pictures for Half Naked Thursdays. I wandered through her blog, and found numerous shots of kid's tushes, bare shoulders, hubby's tummy, etc. It didn't appear to be an organized thing, but a cool idea. So I ran with it. After publicly thanking her for the idea, both she and her husband Doug informed me that the true originator of the concept was The Blue Sloth. He has a HUGE amount of pics on his site--a majority of them of his kids & family. He used to take the kids to the beach and take half naked pics of them. Voila! An idea was born! Many thanks to this unknown genius! I know that he's been made aware of the phenomenon as it now exists. I hope he takes a little pride in its conception!" HNT Guidelines

Seriously? What the fuck? The post continues on and talks about celebrating exposure, not necessarily in an erotic way, but I was still thrown for a loop. This whole thing started with half naked pictures of family members? Including children? This person, 'The Blue Sloth', took his kids to the beach to take half naked pictures of them? And this inspired others to repeat it? I don't even post pictures of my daughter on any site that is open to the public, let alone revealing photos in the same loop with adult erotica. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's a hairs-breadth away from being a felony in most countries.

A while ago, on another website, I put up some mostly-naked photos. I got some compliments and a couple pick-up lines from some gay guys, it was a neat little ego boost. Posting revealing photos of yourself can be fun, a rush all it's own, so something like "Half-Nekkid Thursday" sounds like a funky fun excuse to post some new pics, but do people actually READ about this HNT that they are promoting?

I peruse blogs every once and while, whenever I stumble upon someone's HNT post I wonder if they know what 'inspired' the movement or if they just picked it up as something fun to do. You want to post a half naked picture of yourself? That's great (especially if you're an attractive female). Hell, we could do a FNW (Frontal Nudity Wednesday), I'd be good with that. I have absolutely no issue with consenting adults putting up revealing photos, in fact I would encourage more attractive people to give it a try. Just don't put "HNT" in your post, delete the links to the HNT website. Anything that remotely rings of child nudity should not be encouraged.

If you think I'm overreacting or misrepresenting the facts just check out the site yourself, I put the link by the first quote, but it looks pretty black and white to me: "He used to take the kids to the beach and take half naked pics of them. Voila! An idea was born! Many thanks to this unknown genius!" Sounds pretty fucking wrong.

The Steam Room

2009-12-19T02:48:00.002-07:00

A couple months ago I had a mid-day date with Jenn at a park a couple miles outside of the city. We hung out, got lunch, and sat around for a while. The flirting was getting a little ridiculous, two eager adults in skimpy summer-wear. I love the way a woman's ass looks in a pair of tight shorts. We made out for a little while, our hands running all over the each other.

Fortunately, I just 'happened' to have a tent in the trunk of my car. We found a secluded grove of trees and set it up. In moments we were naked inside and rolling around together.

Ok, Arizona gets freakin hot in the summer. That day it was probably 100 degrees in the shade. My tent was a little backpacker version and didn't have a lot of ventilation, within a few moments it was like a steam room in there. Not that that slowed us down at all.

We spent a couple hours together, covered in sweat. We joked about the extra lubrication... There weren't many things we didn't try, it was the first time that we actually had time to spoil each other sexually. I was on top, she was on top, hands and tongues...

Despite the heat we both had a great time, thought afterwards we were a little more light-headed than usual. We toweled off, packed up, bought a couple large bottles of gatorade to rehydrate, and kissed each other goodbye.

She was on birth control so we didn't use condoms, we didn't see a need and sex is just so much more fun without them. I would later regret it.

Life went on.

A couple days later I was in the shower and noticed some... 'sensitivity' in my groin area. I looked down and saw that there were lots of tiny little blisters around the head of my penis.

I panicked.

I bounced around the bathroom freaking out. In Cat's make-up kit I found a mirror, the blisters didn't look any less menacing from other angles. I'd picked up an STD from Jenn, I just knew it. Or is it called and STI now? I can't ever keep up with these trendy acronyms.

The next day it was worse, the blisters were all popping and skin was peeling off all over the place. I told myself if it still looked bad the next day I would go to the clinic and at least identify what horror I was going to have to endure.

Visions from health class danced in my head... was it going to turn black and fall off? Or turn purple and itchy? Or turn purple and fall off? Was I going to have to take a bunch of shots or would this be a life-long curse? Was it going to eventually kill me or drive me insane? I thought I was going to puke...

That night Cat wanted to get laid. Not wanting to 'share' I got all nervous and made an excuse about being sore. I told her that I'd gone for a long run that morning and had chaffed my nether regions.

The next day it looked a slightly better. Then I had a thought... it'd been really, really hot in that tent, maybe it was from some kind of chaffing. The location of the blisters were consistent with where there had been the most friction (though it was hard to tell with all the extra 'lube'). We had been very... vigorous. I sent off an email to Jenn asking if she'd had any soreness. She hadn't, so I still wasn't too sure what it was.

By the next morning it was almost completely healed. I was still making excuses to Cat, I wanted to be sure. One trip to the clinic was enough to ease my mind, it was definitely heat/friction related blistering. No STDs or STIs or DPFs (Diseases Passed by Fucking). For the first time in a week I could breath easier...

I could make a speech about the dangers of dehydration in a desert climate, or how sweat can actually cause more friction rather than less during penetration and intercourse. Or, channeling the pope, I could probably make some sort of "Always Wear a Condom" speech right now, but we already know all the facts and that usually doesn't change our risky behavior. So there isn't a moral to the story, it's just really, really funny in hindsight.

Redbook VS. Tree Frog

2009-12-19T02:18:00.002-07:00

I just had to share this tidbit. There was a bulletin put out by Blogger a little while ago about the "Next Blog" feature. Instead of the link sending you to a random blog it now sends you to a similar blog. Supposedly.

I was playing around on the blog today and gave it a try. From my blog it send to me "Tree Frog", an insightful blog about humanity's impact on nature. I couldn't help but laugh.

Isn't Blogger a branch of Google? You'd think it'd have better search capabilities. Seriously, what keyword match it found I have no idea.

You should give it a try and see what you find.

The Sex Pedestal

2009-12-16T13:06:00.002-07:00

Let's start with an exploration of the dating curve, not particularly educational to most people here (anyone reading this will pretty much understand it, subconsciously at least. Been there, done that, kind of thing) but it will help frame the rest of the post:

Whenever someone enters the dating scene, they are always looking for someone 'better' than them, someone at the same level or higher in the social hierarchy. However, we first have to establish where we are in that hierarchy. We never have an accurate image of where we place, we either lack the confidence we should have or have far too much ego and pride. So we go through a period of dating people lower on the ranks, then slowly work our way around through the rankings, up and down, until we reach a kind of balance point. Without using this kind of a feeling-out method you never know exactly where you are on the ladder. After all, the rankings are established by the group of people we hang out with, not by our own self image. Which is either a really good thing, or in some cases a really bad one.

A friend and coworker of mine, a guy I've known for years, has been going through a rough patch. At first I felt sorry for him, but it's getting more and more obvious that it's as much his own fault as it is anyone else's.

He's been married ten years, has two beautiful little girls, and has been a very good father and husband. He did absolutely everything for them, one of those guys that cheerfully 'gave up' (see last post) everything in his own life to live entirely for his family.

About two years ago his wife decided she could do better (she can't), she got all bitchy and stuck up all the sudden. I'm pretty sure at that point that she was cheating on him (She definitely was flirty, but it wasn't me! I swear!). He put up with it, on and on, until finally she decided to move back home with the girls.

By that point, he was pretty sick of her behavior and didn't argue against it. In fact, he looked at it as possibly a good thing for him. He could be single for a while, have some fun, and hopefully find a more appreciative woman. He'd always been a bit of a ladies man, not that he'd done anything about it since getting married but there'd been plenty of opportunities. I figured it wouldn't be long until he was back in the proverbial saddle.

Boy, was I wrong!

The first problem was that he hadn't been laid in a really long time, his wife hadn't put out for almost a year before she left (how he put up with THAT I don't know, I think I'd have kicked her out), so he'd developed that 'desperate aura' that women can smell a mile away.

Women have a sixth sense for guys that haven't been laid recently. The guy comes on a little strong, has that NEED in his eyes, but rather than coming across as I'm-a-hormone-driven-male-looking-to-ravage they come off as more pitiful-teenager-trying-to-get-his-dick-wet-for-the-first-time. Fortunately, there's an easy fix for the desperate aura, GET LAID! Fuck the first girl desperate enough, bored enough, or drunk enough to spread her legs for you. Problem solved. You get laid, have some fun, and it takes the edge off so picking up the next girl is easier. Unfortunately for my friend, he has a second problem:

He has 'standards'. Really, really high standards.

He thinks he's going to pick up some 22 year old bombshell that's going to worship the ground he walks on, just like he used to do before he got married ten years ago.
A: He's going on forty, and it looks like it was a hard forty years.
B: He's got plenty of baggage in the form of a broken marriage and two kids.
C: He doesn't have any money, see previous point.
D: He drives a old VW bug.
E: He's definitely overweight.
Now, he's a ladies man as I've said before, so he could probably play off all of those points except for the fact that HE HASN'T BEEN LAID IN OVER A YEAR!!! That makes it far, far harder to be all suave and nonchalant. He has that 'aura' and to women that is a big, big red flag.

Women want men that other women want. Wow, that's a bit of a tongue twister, but still true. If no other women want the guy, than obviously that guy isn't a catch. So if a guy hasn't been laid in a long, long time than he obviously isn't a catch.

You want proof? Here's some seemingly illogical logic. If a guy goes to a bar WITH a woman, he'll be hit on by more women than if he goes to that same by bar himself. Or that a married guy, goes to the bar with the ring on his finger, will get more play than a single guy. In both of those examples the guy is OBVIOUSLY a catch because they've been claimed by another woman. Therefore other women will want them because OBVIOUSLY they are worth catching and claiming, even if they have to crawl over other women to get them, maybe BECAUSE they have to climb over other women to get them.

So, single older guy with baggage goes to a bar by himself, hasn't been 'claimed' by a woman in a long, long time... he's only going to appeal to the lowest of the social hierarchy. But he thinks he's too good for that and therefore goes home alone every night. Because he goes home alone every night the women that he wants, those higher in the hierarchy, will always think they're too good for him because he must not be desirable. He doesn't get this.

Every day he loses more confidence and gets more mopey and depressed, further lowering his chances of picking anyone up. He's practically re-virginized himself. Eventually he's going to stop even trying. It's like a tragic-comedy sequel "40 Year Old Re-Virgin", only it's not funny anymore.

Hell, my skin starts to crawl when I hang out with him anymore. It's like the primal wolf-part of my brain senses the need oozing out of his every pore and worries it'll somehow rub off on me, make others question my alpha male status by hanging out with the mangy-scruffy runt of the pack. All because he has boxed himself in with 'standards'.

He just needs to fuck someone, anyone, and quick. Get it over with, pop his post-wife cherry, then he can settle down and start slowly working his way through the rankings to find something more to his liking. Has he never heard of a 'rebound girl'?

I want him to be happy but to do that he needs to be realistic and establish where he actually falls on the dating ladder before deciding what he's too good for. Even if he is good enough for the women he wants, until he gets laid they aren't going to look twice at him, they'll smell him from across the bar and start looking for the exits.

The Things We Give Up

2009-12-13T10:52:00.005-07:00

I work with a lot of younger guys who make almost as much money as me but don't have a wife or child. They're always talking about their newest toys, new cars, game consoles, and top-of-the-line cell phones. And on a nice day out, half of them ride their motorcycles to work.

When I was almost too young to remember my Dad had a motorcycle. I have some vague mental images of riding across a clear-cut portion of a hill, sitting on the bike in front of him. I was maybe six or seven at the time, probably younger. Shortly after that he had to sell the bike, a young man's fancy submitting to the responsibilities of fatherhood. We also moved from our remote cabin, my father's version of a dream house that he'd built with his own two hands. The twenty mile trip to school each morning was getting tiring.

When I think back I realize exactly how much of my parents lives was coopted by parenthood, how much they gave up, and how many of their dreams went by the wayside. Now they're both too old to go back to it. Maybe dreams change, maybe they are perfectly happy in their suburban lifestyle but I'll always wonder if they'd missed their one chance to live the way they wished.

My own journey to adulthood and responsibilities happened at a much earlier age than it did for them. I took a job specifically to get away from home, it offered benefits that Cat needed at the time so marriage made sense. Two years of us working full time and we both thought we were on the verge of middle class 'success', we bought a mid-range house and were looking at fulfilling our own dreams.

I'd always wanted a motorcycle and a nice truck, impractical things that we could actually afford at the time. The truck was first, I had the paperwork in hand, ready to buy a brand new F150 when we found out Cat was pregnant. We'd always been careful, we hadn't wanted kids until we were both older and settled into good careers. It was totally unexpected. I took a deep breath, let out a long sad sigh, and bought a Focus instead. Manhood points zero, fatherhood points one.

Rather than middle class success, we had to frantically rearrange our whole lives, practically overnight to facilitate our new addition. The impractical, fun things were dropped and at the ripe old age of 23 (to my own father's 27) I settled into a responsible life, bills, debt, no free time, and every decision balanced against the family's needs. No truck and no motorcycle.

Now, many years later, we're gradually approaching the point of having disposable income again but it's amazing how priorities change. A truck? Impractical. A motorcycle? I don't have the time or money to actually maintain and enjoy one. The dreams haven't changed but once you have a kid you realize how you have to approach any new thing in relation to responsibilities, which pretty much takes the fun out of them.

Unlike my parents, who had time before parenthood to do what they wanted and then had to give it up, I gave those things up before I actually had any of them. I'm not sure which is more frustrating. However, unlike my parents, I have a career with good benefits and retirement (though I hate it) and will have my opportunity for frivolity later in life. So, what's better? Enjoying life at a young age, living life to the fullest and then going respectable or going respectable first and enjoying life later?

We don't always have many options in life, so hopefully I've made the best decisions I could with mine. That's cold reassurance when I hear the rumble of my coworkers arriving, I reel with envy. Then I get home and my daughter runs up and gives me a big hug, tells me about her day. She's worth every short moment of envy, hopefully my parents feel the same way.

Note: it might seem superficial to write a post about wanting a truck and a motorcycle. I mean, what consumer-based dreams I have, right? However, when I was growing up we never had nice things, we were always broke. We also lived on the nice side of town, so my friends always had newer cars and expensive toys, snow machines, boats, and RVs. To me, if you work hard you should be able to have a few nice things that aren't necessarily practical. I hope that makes sense.

Ego and Sex

2009-12-10T11:53:00.002-07:00

Maybe I don't speak for all men, just most of them, when I say that sex is inextricably linked to the male ego. I'm in a bit of a dry-spell in the sex department, though my ego isn't suffering yet (thanks to Cat's occasional ministrations) I'm starting to feel restless.

After standing me up last weekend I haven't heard from Jenn. It's surprising because we had so much fun together last time and there was no hint beforehand that there were any issues. There was all the normal email/text flirting, the 'I miss you's and 'I can't wait to see you's. Then nothing on Saturday, which was disappointing, and no follow up messages with a reasonable explanation. Just... nothing. Which is disappointing because I actually liked her a lot.

With Nikky's suspicious-overly-controlling husband issues and my weird schedule, meeting up has been impossibly complicated.

If Cat hadn't been feeling more 'needy' recently, I would be in dire-straights. I'd gotten addicted to having the attention of three women, or at least my ego did (possibly my penis as well), and now I'm definitely feeling the loss of two. Hell, last Saturday I couldn't sleep and spent all night watching bad movies and blogging... if I don't nip this trend in the butt I'm going to turn into one of those stay-at-home, feel-sorry-for-themselves, almost-middle-aged losers.

If I could afford a red convertible the situation wouldn't seem so desperate.

The Atheistic Religion

2009-12-08T11:03:00.004-07:00

*Note: this was inspired by a radio broadcast and not a rebuttal of Nolens Volens post. It's just one of life's little coincidences*

I was driving in to work last night, listening one of my favorite radio shows (conspiracy theorists and nut cases), when I got so aggravated that I needed to write. The guest for the night was Michael Shermer, the editor of Skeptic magazine and very vocal atheist. The reason that this irritated me to no end was his atheism led him to casually dismiss everything out of the ordinary, despite having no evidence or first hand experience.

The Skeptic magazine supposedly promotes critical thinking:
"Under the direction of Dr. Michael Shermer, the Society engages in scientific investigation and journalistic research to investigate claims made by scientists, historians, and controversial figures on a wide range of subjects" from http://www.skeptic.com

I'm a particularly skeptical person and I'm a very critical thinker, yet I found his arguments and attitudes, and those made of his magazine, to be pretty ridiculous and close minded. Of course, I've been skeptical of atheists for a long time now.

Neither of my parents are particularly devout and yet for a long time I believed, as they did, that there was 'something' out there, that there was something after this life. Gradually, as I got older, that faded out and I started to believe that there wasn't anything to the world that I couldn't see or touch. I thought that religion was just a feel-good thing shared by people with weak intellect, plus they were so blinding and judgmental. If there is a god I can't imagine him/her/it/them turning a person away from Heaven for reading the wrong book or believing what their parents tell them.

My senior year of High School I watched a debate between an atheist I respected and a Christian (I should probably mention that the Christian churches around my home town were particularly coercive and demented, I despised them). Something about the debate left a bad taste in my mouth. Both of them ended up sounding equally spiteful and petty but that wasn't the reason. As I reviewed their arguments I realized that neither could prove their point: "There's a God!" "No, there isn't!" That's when I realized that the atheist had just as much 'faith' that there was nothing as the Christian did for there being something.

Once I realized that, plenty of other things became clear too. Atheism is basically a religion all it's own. It's just as faith-based, as judgmental, and as close-minded as any major religion. You ask enough questions of any 'religious' person and they'll get angry. After enough you'll eventually get the most important answer; "I don't know".

Why do certain combination of nerve cells suddenly become conscious? What was before the big bang and why did it happen at all? Why does God create people destined for hell?

There are so many things in life that science and religion can hardly understand or explain, why pretend that we know the answers?

I decided that "I don't know" is a perfectly acceptable answer, nothing to get upset or angry over. I'm now a very proud Agnostic, skeptical of everything and yet dismissive of nothing. I've had plenty of experiences that can't be explained very well, that make me look at the world with wonder and curiosity. I revel in learning, listening, and experiencing life with a mind open to it's own conclusions.

No-Sex Insomnia

2009-12-06T05:26:00.002-07:00

You ever have one of those weekends where nothing seems to work out right and you end up bored and alone in the middle of the night? One of those nights where you end up writing a personal ad on craigslist simply because you're that bored? The ad is poignant, funny, and cynical about ever finding 'true love' or at least a friend with benefits that doesn't suck? You might include a few quotations from your favorite book or love poem (probably Herrick), maybe some Shakespeare. It might even reference the current economic woes and the rising statistics of strangers meeting up for sympathy sex... which is odd and yet true.

Ok, I didn't write a personal ad (yet) but I'm definitely bored and wide awake in the middle of the night. If I'm not sleepy by the time I finish noodling around here than I might just swing over to craigslist and post something ridiculous to see what responses I get.

In case you haven't guessed, this weekend was a total bust. Nikky's husband switched shifts around to spend more time with his family, or more likely to keep an eye on his wayward wife. Then, I was saving my Saturday for Jenn and ended up waiting and waiting for a text/call that never came. My fuck-buddy stood me up, how sad is that?

So I'm on my laptop, sitting in my living room in my boxers, posting to my blog. I'd be really pissed off or depressed if my couch wasn't incredibly comfortable or if Cat hadn't left a half-full bottle of vodka in the freezer. It's definitely time to start shopping around for another girlfriend.

Ironically, I actually picked up Jenn in the platonic section of craigslist a few months ago. She was new to the area and looking for a pen pal, I was bored and figured it couldn't hurt. Plus, she was hot. What started out completely platonic got progressively less friendly and more and more lusty as the emails and pictures flew. Within a few weeks we were meeting up regularly for very non-platonic adventures.

At three am there aren't many places I can go to meet new girls so maybe popping over to craigslist isn't a bad idea. As I can attest, you never know what you might discover. Even if I don't find a new fuck-buddy I'll get some laughs and at the very least I could probably find a nice cheap ottoman to go with my couch. Though hopefully I'll be spending less weekend nights on it in the future.

Cat's Cradle

2009-12-05T01:55:00.006-07:00

I often tease Cat about being a tease, especially during the periods when she's 'attached' to someone else. Under normal circumstances it's really hard for her to climax, so most of the time she's not particularly interested in actually having sex. However, she's attractive, outgoing, and loves attention, so she's very quick to flirt with anyone, anytime.

I was on my way out the door a couple nights ago and I noticed the glint in her eye. She intercepted me by the front door and started kissing my neck and face. I enjoyed this for a minute but knew it wasn't going anywhere, not only did she have the 'teasing' look but I needed to be out the door in a few minutes. When I tried to disentangle myself she upped the ante, grabbing me through my pants and rubbing me. She looked me in the eye, watching me enjoy the attention.

This continued for a minute, me getting more and more aroused. I could hear her breathing quicker, feeding off my arousal. I was about to drop my pants and finish the job whether or not she planned to, instead I looked at her and said "You're going to stop in about ten seconds and wish me a nice night at work aren't you?"

She erupted in laughter, knowing I'd read her intentions. Very suddenly there was a loud knock on the front-door right next to us. We both jump, then burst out laughing again. It's her boy toy, there for his nightly visit.

Without hesitating for me to hide my visible erection, she opened the door wide, both of us still laughing. I cowered behind her long enough to adjust myself to a less obvious position. We exchanged brief greetings, me and Cat still rolling and him smiling at us, waiting for someone to explain the joke. I push past the two, hands judiciously placed to obscure my groin.

"Yeah, good luck with her tonight," I called out over my shoulder as I walked away. He laughed politely and Cat burst out laughing again. Cat and I had joked about her being a tease earlier in the evening, before the theatrics by the door, so she knew exactly what I meant.

I definitely understand the role of arousal when it comes to controlling another person so I almost felt sorry leaving him in her clutches for the evening. Cat was definitely in the mood to play with her food.

Johnny's Back

2009-12-01T11:34:00.003-07:00

*to the theme of "shady's back... back again"*

So, Johnny's back in the saddle. Nikky found a way to chat with me that doesn't leave any bread crumbs for her husband to follow... so we'll probably be meeting up later this week. It's stupid, I know, reckless and idiotic, probably, but it just sounds like too much fun to resist. Is danger incredibly arousing or is it just me?

I look back at my previous posts and remember how nerve wracking those few days were when she first got busted. I really, really don't need the risk. But right now I really do need the FUN, and Nikky was always a ton of fun.

In addition to finding some time with Nikky soon, Jenn's roommate will be out of town this weekend so that opens up more opportunities. It's looking like it's going to be a good week as long as work doesn't get in the way.

My vacation was fun in a wholesome, almost monogamous way (probably would have been boring except I haven't done the monogamous thing in a long time), but now I'm back to my immoral, lying, womanizing ways. I can't wait to take full advantage of the upcoming opportunities.

E[lust] Submission

2009-12-01T11:09:00.002-07:00

Shortly after I started this blog I was looking for ways to increase my audience and I came across e[lust]. Basically you submit and then everybody who submitted reposts the bulletin with links to everyone's posts, like a chain mail of smut :)

It is an interesting concept and seems to work pretty well, but I'm not sure if it's the right type of thing for me. If you peruse the submissions they are almost entirely erotic writings. Nothing wrong with that, but it's not exactly my thing. Anyone clicking on a link to my submission looking for penises and vaginas is going to be disappointed.

There are some good erotic writers out there, like Frances at 29 pearls in your kiss, but most of them are all graphic and not much else. They work if you're going to masturbate but you probably won't think about them again after you're done. I've written graphic before, but I always try to include thoughts and feelings and motivations and things I've learned. There is so much more to sex than just the physical aspects and by taking out everything else you get kind of a hollow arousal and that's it.

Am I wrong here? I mean, you could write an incredibly erotic story and never even get to anything graphic. Maybe that'll be a project for me.

So I'm not sure if I'm going to continue to submit to e[lust]. It doesn't really fit with what I'm trying to do here. If you disagree, or know about another similar project that might fit better, let me know.

-Johnny

E[lust] #1

2009-12-01T11:08:00.001-07:00

HNT Courtesy of Coy Pink

Welcome to the first edition of e[lust]! Below is your source for inspirations of lust and sexual intelligence from a wide range of sex bloggers. Want to be included in the next edition? Submission period opens for e[lust] # 2 on November 20th – subscribe to the RSS feed and Twitter for all updates! Check out the submission guidelines and rules of general conduct here.

This week’s top three picks as chosen by fellow e[lust] participants:

At Your Service - His hand pushes on my thigh and I turn away from him, allowing him to inspect my ass. His hands spread my ass cheeks and again I flood with wetness.

Cinderella – “‘I want to fuck you…’ he growled, nipping at her neck and kissing down over her breasts, biting at her nipples through the fabric, making her cry out.

Anal Sex Pt 2: The Ins and Outs of Butt Sex - Butt sex is what you make of it. Enjoy yourselves, be careful, and try everything that looks interesting.

Editor’s Pick:

The Slut Chronicles #5 – The Flight Delay – “When her eye caught his blatantly checking her out, he only grinned wider, with no remorse at all and it was she who blushed furiously.”

A note from the editor: And so it begins…

See also: Pleasurist’s #54 for your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Writing

Just A Little Taste
Older and Better Than Ever
Good Morning
Your Eyes
MFM: The Student. The Teacher.
Get Me Off
The Club & Introductory Note
Don’t Come
The City
Howl at the Moon
Rimjob
Consumed
The Devil Inside
One of the Greats
Room Service

Kink & Fetish

A Busy Night
Bad Taste?
Protocols
The Illusion of Beginning: Pt 1
“You hit me…”
Reconnecting
Too Many Buttons
Nadia’s Wishing Box
The Mason Jar
So Sexy Boots

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Swing Shift Vol. 18 – Safe Sex and Getting Tested
Libido Resurrection Programme™
Check Up
Oh, Baby, Baby
UnderRated: Fucking the Mind

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Vixen Invites
I’m Quoted in Time Out NY!
Top Five Tuesday – Euro Studs
She Makes Me Feel Like a Whore

Coming Home

2009-11-29T02:38:00.002-07:00

It's never any fun coming home from vacation. The time away flies by and going back to responsibilities, complications, and work is never without regrets.

On the plane, taxiing to the runway, Cat noticed the look in my eyes and asked what was wrong. I gave her the canned response, that I hated my job and really didn't want to go back. I didn't tell her that the past two weeks had been the best I'd had in a really, really long time, and that flying back put a complete and sudden end to that happy buzz that'd been running through my head.

I hate my job. My work takes me away from my family and is highly demeaning but it pays the bills and covers our responsibilities. Given half an opportunity I'd move back home, be closer to parents and siblings that I've hardly seen in the last decade. I've missed so many birthdays, graduations, the births of nephews and nieces, reunions. What is family without those shared experiences? It's hardly more than a Facebook group for people with similar last names.

And Cat was perfect. Utterly perfect. She played the good wife so well that it was easy to pretend for two weeks that it was real, that we were really happy together. We took our daughter out on so many adventures, we held hands, we were a perfect little family.

At some point, for me at least, it stopped being an act. I've always loved Cat, I've learned and grown so much with her in my life. She's beautiful, she's fun, and she's smarter than anyone I've ever known. She's easy to fall in love with. The problem is that she doesn't have the same limits as most people. She's never quite satisfied with anything, she's always looking for another adventure, another new person, another experience. When you're her focus, you feel like your being graced with the greatest presence in the world. However, in love as in life, her focus doesn't remain in one place long.

She got off the plane and took a separate car so she could run to her favorite store and pick up a new dress. We made it back early enough that she could spend one last night on the town with her boy toy, who conveniently rented a hotel room, before he moves this week. She got all dressed up, kissed me good night, and left for town.

It's easy to fall in love with Cat, it's a lot harder to maintain that love through the trials she puts it through. That's why we're still married, because she's afraid that no one else will understand and put up with the things that I do. She's had boyfriends that would have been perfect to marry (more perfect than me) but always breaks it off because they wouldn't survive her tumultuous lifestyle. She'll never be entirely a one-man woman. That would eliminate too many possible adventures, experiences.

One of the many things that I've learned through Cat is that you can't fight life, you can't struggle against things that cannot be changed. You accept what life gives you, do with it what you can, and try to still move forward toward your goals. Cat is like a force of nature, to be studied, to be misunderstood and weathered, never controlled, simply accepted.

I got off the plane and immediately my skin started to itch. I want another tattoo, badly. I want the pain and the mark, a self-destructive impulse. Any mark, any pain, just something...

Already the warm feeling of vacation is gone and thoughts of work, relationships, responsibilities are crowding my brain, and yet I feel empty. In a more normal life maybe the memories from the past two weeks would be sustaining, here they feel almost like lies. Almost.

P.S. My goal is to be as honest as possible in my writings here. If I can't be honest anonymously than when can I ever be? I'm not a depressed person, I'm not perfect, I'm not a genius; I'm simply a person living a life and trying to explore the feelings and experiences that I have. I realize that sometimes it comes across as something that it isn't. This post for example, a casual reader would read into this that I am depressed and/or self destructive. Trust me, I'm neither (I'm way too egotistical). I write to explore/explain to myself what's going on in my life. If anything, writing about these things is a kind of confession, a way of relieving myself of these pressures. If you've read any of my posts you realize that I can't talk about most of these things to people that I know, there's way too much shadiness for that, so writing/discussing these things here is practically therapeutic.

Pre-Turkey Day

2009-11-26T01:20:00.003-07:00

Cat and I are such weird people. We've been playing 'happy couple' for several days now (my parents, though less square than I give them credit for are pretty traditional and don't know about our half-ass separation) and it's been interesting. We flirt, we're touching constantly, we pass jokes back and forth like a tennis ball, and finish each other's sentences.

Part of it is amusing because we haven't spent any real time together in years, so part of the happy, almost-newly-wed image we put out is genuine. We're having fun together for the first time in a long time simply because we are actually spending the time together, no work, no weird shifts, no boyfriends/girlfriends.

But part of this is kind of sad too, because we know it's only going to be like this for a little bit longer. We're going back in a week and we'll be back to all the stress, the bf/gfs, the complications.

In two week increments we make a terrific married couple. Of course, the sex has been great too. Any longer than two weeks and she'll start to go nuts, which will drive me nuts.

Both Cat and I are like coins, with a 'good' side and a 'naughty' side. We both want the happy married life, good finances, retirement plans, kids, and all the pleasures that come with a straight, inside-the-box, life. But we also want to at least try everything else too. We want the illicit evenings, dirty, fun, breaking rules, bending boundaries...

You really can't have both but at least in this situation Cat and I are reading from the same book if not on exactly the same page. We have one foot in each world, which is not nearly as convenient as it sounds because they end up canceling each other out half the time. You can see both sides of the road but can't really pick a direction.

This has been a fun diversion but it's drawing to a close, one of Cat's ex-flings is driving into town this week specifically to see her and he's too much of an asshole for her to resist him long. It's too bad, that kind of kills the rest of the trip for me. Even if she insists that she didn't sleep with him (like she insisted the last time), I won't believe her and then the rest of the trip will be weird, we'll go home with a weird taste in our mouth, and we'll go back to our weird lives.

We're weird people, but for the most part it still works out Ok.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.

Questions

2009-11-23T14:17:00.000-07:00

Sex. It's the subtext to absolutely everything we do in life. It's a psychologist's gold mine. If you're open, it can tell you a lot about yourself, your partner. The problem, I've found, is that even behind closed doors people are so self conscious, afraid even, to try new things or express what they want. It's ridiculous but we all do it constantly, in the bedroom and out.

Life is like a really long buffet table. We're walking down the line taking a little of this, a little of that. Mom says you have to try the potato salad. Your lover says the angel food cake is great but he's taken the devil's. Everyone is looking at what everyone else has on their plate and wondering what others will think before putting anything on yours. The triple-chocolate truffles look good but you pass because you don't want the nearby stranger to think you're that kind of person.

Each selection says a little bit about who you are. We spend so much time and energy shaping the way others see us that I don't think half of the things we do we do for ourselves.

For example, if there was a secret place, a stranger/strangers of whatever type/size/sex you want, no names or information exchanged, no chance of the encounter ever being exposed outside, every sexual option on the table with your pleasure being the only factor... given such an opportunity I think we'd surprise ourselves. The things we'd try, what kinds of things we'd enjoy, the freedom... the satisfaction.

I'm standing at that doorway, peering in. Given any option, what would I try? What would I do?

What would you do? Does putting it in writing and posting it for the world to see make you uneasy? What do those fantasies say about you? How do they make you feel?

Married Me

2009-11-20T13:18:00.005-07:00

It might seem a little odd to hear from me but the reason I stay anonymous is so that I can be honest about what I'm thinking or feeling at that moment. I might be feeling like I'm the next Brad Pitt, or a washed up loser, or I might just be bored, but I'll write about however I'm feeling right then. You don't like it, you can fuck off. Right now I'm feeling introspective.

So last weekend was pretty rough for me.

Cat begged me to watch the kid so she could spend the time with her Boy Toy. She really likes him and he's moving a couple days after we get back from vacation. Everybody I knew was busy this weekend so I agreed.

All weekend I tried to juggle playing with my daughter, packing everything up, cleaning the house for our house sitter, and trying to stay sane. I'd clean an area and two minutes later my daughter would have pulled all her toys back out, or the cat would have knocked something off the shelves. I'd make a pile of clothes to bring and the cat would fall asleep in the middle of it, or she'd start carrying them all over the house, leaving them everywhere.

And I kept finding lingerie... Balled up between couch cushions, under the kitchen table, in the hallway. Some of it was new and some of it old stuff that should have been at the bottom of a drawer, not the top of the laundry pile.

I found myself feeling incredibly jealous, not because she was spending time with other guys (ok, maybe a little) but because of the time and energy she put into being sexy for them, impressing them.

One night a couple weeks ago I was leaving for work and she asked if Boy Toy could come over after I left. I figured he would be coming over with or without my permission, so what did it matter? She was looking through movies, opening a bottle of wine, arranging the couch, getting out some finger foods...

Fuck. I mean, the last time we watched a movie together she spend the entire time texting other dudes and hardly said two words to me. No wine, no food... definitely no lingerie.

So all weekend I was finding these articles all over the place. It really made me think about the effort that we put into each other. I mean, maybe if she had put the effort into me that she does into her other boys than we wouldn't have separated. I don't think I've seen her in lingerie in probably three years, we hardly ever spend any time together, and sex is like "ok, we have half an hour... go!" Jump into bed, get naked, get off, call it a night.

I know this is a two way street, I'm just as much to blame for the lack of romance/energy as she is, but finding all those lacy black panties definitely drove home the point.

There isn't really a chance of me and Cat going back to 'happily married', we're both too jaded, too cynical. We've been through too much together, we know each other too well. But it was enough to make me think. I mean, maybe in some similar dimension Cat and I were more comfortable together, could put the extra energy into each other instead of outside projects, and we would have been very happy.

It wouldn't have taken much...

Then she gets home Sunday night and she's happier, more smiley, bouncier than I've seen her in years. It's good to see and depressing at the same time. There's definitely no going back.

Vacation

2009-11-16T12:13:00.002-07:00

So I'm leaving for vacation today. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to post (or if there will be anything interesting enough to post about), but I'm sure I'll write whenever I can.

If not, I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving.

-Johnny

Celibacy is Stupid

2009-11-14T18:31:00.004-07:00

Last night I was toying (very briefly) with the idea of giving up womanizing for a while because of the whole Nikky's-husband-finding-out-and-almost-coming-after-me thing. Nikky was a ton of fun, I reveled in her, but obviously the risks were pretty high as well. So I was sexually frustrated last night, bored, still queasy from the stress of the week, and thinking that as much fun as sex is it might be good for me to take a break for a while.

So not going to happen.

Apparently once that genie is out of the bottle he ain't going back in. Since I have Daddy-duty all weekend I've been spending a lot of time at the local play ground and today I kept catching myself mentally undressing the mother's there. Trying to keep up sexually with three different women has seemingly pumped up my libido to extreme levels.

Now, I can see Jenn maybe once a week, Nikky's off the table, and Cat has a new Boy-toy that has been taking care of her... I'm going to go completely insane if I don't find a new play thing soon.

Unfortunately, that's going to have to wait. I'm going on 'vacation' next week to visit with the family. I haven't been back home in years (for good reason) and am not particularly looking forward to it, especially now that my sex drive is maxed out and I'll be staying with my parents.

Sexually frustrated, staying with my parents... Great, I'm going to relive my teenage years.

Drinking

2009-11-14T01:11:00.004-07:00

Great. Alcohol and blogging. The fruit of the 21st century.

Sitting here by myself on a friday night, friday the 13th no less... drinking a bottle of win or two... or three? Lost damn count.

WTF? Why am I still awake? Why am I all by my lonesome? Why am I blogging with a BAC of a batting average? I don't even watch baseball.

I'm bored. I'm drunk. I'm wide awake despite all efforts to the contrary. I can still spell 'contrary' thanks to spell-check.

Hulu is a drunk man's best friend, fuck the dog. I've been watching Sons of Anarchy all night and now I really, really want a motorcycle. And a biker club. I wish we lived in a time when they were as glorious as they are on TV.

Gotta love not remembering writing this tomorrow. I'm going to look at this and say "WTF? I wrote that?"

Three bottles of wine on the wall, three bottles of wine... take one down, pass it to me... two bottles of wine on the wall.

On nights like this, doesn't it always seem like everyone but you is getting laid? It's never fair. We always seem to get laid when we don't care if we do, but if you are bored and lonely than the option never comes up. What's up with that? Who designed this f'n system?

My head will be pounding in the morning.

Boredom a Withdrawal Symptom?

2009-11-13T22:54:00.002-07:00

After several days of sweating it out, it appears that I'll survive Nikky-gate more or less intact. A variety of factors combined to sideline my part in the scenario (not least of which is that Nikky never asked my name). The largest factor was probably that Nikky herself told her husband that if he pushed the issue than she'd divorce him and he agreed as long as we don't contact each other again.

So as long as everybody holds their breath it seems I will be left alone. Which is a relief since job hunting in this economy would be a nightmare and as fun as the affair was, it wasn't worth the financial/career suicide that could have resulted.

No more 'dating' women who are married to co-workers. I've learned the lesson well, hopefully the universe doesn't feel like beating me over the head with it later.

Of course, I hadn't realized until tonight what a large role Nikky played in keeping me entertained. For how infrequently we saw each other we were constantly texting. Pics, stories, ideas... mostly just the day-to-day BS, but it was a nice diversion. Cat is taking pretty much this whole weekend, and with Jenn busy, I'm sitting here alone in my house writing on my blog on a Friday night. Makes me feel pretty fucking pathetic.

A week ago I was going to post about how I was getting bored with never seeing Jenn and that Nikky was getting predictable, that possibly these avenues of entertainment/deviancy might be played out. Then other things came up and I posted about those instead. Now I realize that as bored as I thought I was with the situations, this is five times more boring... Not only am I not getting laid this weekend, I don't even have my text buddy to keep me occupied.

After all the craziness of this week I'm tempted to swear off sex for a while. I love sex, I love the interaction between two people (or possibly more than two), I love the battle of wills, but it fucking COMPLICATES EVERYTHING!

So I'm going to spend this weekend meditating on the evils of sex. And trying not to get aroused while meditating about the evils of sex. And pretending like celibacy is a possible option for me. (Celibacy is a lot like virginity, it's not that bad to maintain but once you lose it it's fucking gone for the foreseeable future)

I'll leave you with a quotation that I'll be thinking about a lot from Nagarjuna's "Precious Garland":
There is pleasure when a sore is scratched,
But to be without sores is more pleasurable still.
Just so, there are pleasures in worldly desires,
But to be without desires is more pleasurable still.

I'm not sure if I agree with it (except it being more pleasurable to not have sores), without desires what is there to be pleasurable? However, since pleasure is pretty much off the table for a while I might as well pretend to be on sabbatical. Maybe my soul will thank me (I know my penis won't).

The Morning After (Tuesday Pt 3)

2009-11-12T12:40:00.003-07:00

So Nikky got totally busted. She left some emails open or something and the husband found them. Those might have been explained away, nothing too bad, but the pics were a little more incriminating. And that's bad for both of us.

You see, yesterday is the first day I slipped a little. I love getting and taking pics but I'm always very careful not to include anything too identifiable. Yesterday, taking a picture of her sucking my... you know, the tattoo on my side is clearly visible. It was a hot picture so I didn't immediately delete it. Apparently she sent the pics to her secret email account at home... then accidentally left it logged in. Her husband went to the site to use his account and it automatically logged into hers.

Emails from me, no big deal. Emails from me and a picture with one of my tattoos showing, a little harder to talk my way out of. Have I mentioned that he's pretty high up the corporate ladder in the company I work for? And we sign a kind of 'morality' agreement when he get our contract...

He's apparently freaking out pretty bad. I've been there, so I can kind of understand. However, he's basically using this as leverage to put her 'in her place', which seems really wrong. His pigeon-holing her is a large part of what led her to me in the first place but now instead of him having to work on his behavior he's going to justify it by this infraction.

I've tried to advise her on how she should use this as a catalyst to improve her marriage (somewhat ironic, don't you think?), show him that he played as much a role in this as anyone did, but she's so terrified of him that I'm not sure if it helped. And I can't very well push any issues, now can I? He has both of us over a barrel and is probably laughing his ass off behind closed doors.

Granted, he doesn't know exactly who I am, but it wouldn't take too much effort to figure it out. I'm not sure exactly how this will all play out but rest assured I'll probably be writing all about it.

Rejoining Jenn (Tuesday Pt 2)

2009-11-12T12:34:00.003-07:00

*Tuesday was such a crazy night before/day that I've broken it into three parts*

I told Cat that I had a normal night of work Monday. If you read the first part, you already know that I had the entire night off.

I left for "work" at the normal time and drove forty minutes to Jenn's new place. It'd been weeks since I'd seen her, she'd been withdrawn on the emails, so I wasn't entirely sure what to expect when I got there. Then she answered the door in lingerie.

Two hours later, lying together naked on the bed, she rolled me onto my stomach like she was going to rub my back. Then she proceeded to very lightly kiss my shoulders, my spine, my sides, all the way up and down my body. It was amazing.

I forget sometimes how affectionate Jenn can be. It was very sensual, in a kind of cheesy way, but really, really... nice. Peaceful.

Being with Cat is like trying to unravel a ball of stress. Being with Nikky is crazy, sexy, but also a little uneasy. Both are fun, but neither are capable of lying quietly for longer than about ten seconds. This was different, almost like lying by myself but with discrete company.

Jenn is worried that she's falling for me, and has been keeping me at arms length in between dates. I like her as a person, she's fun to hang out with, she's a good person, but I'm not going to fall head over heels for her. However, I might be getting addicted to the serenity, the calm, of being with her.

She's like an oasis.

She'd be dangerous if our schedules matched up better and we saw more of each other.

12 hours earlier Cat left for work and Nikky stopped by. She had an appointment and only had time for a quick BJ before taking off. Again, I'm not sure if this counts towards the two-women-one-day goal, since there wasn't actual sex with both.

It was a long day, a good day. And you know what? I get to sleep in my own bed. Cat and Boy-Toy were passed out on the couch in various states of undress. So I'm writing this from my own comfy bed, half asleep.

Twofer Tuesday (Tuesday Pt 1)

2009-11-11T19:37:00.007-07:00

*Tuesday was such a long crazy night before/day that I broke it down into three parts*

So I got released from work early, about 2 a.m., for veterans day. I got home and there was a car in the drive way. It was Cat's boy toy's car.

I like to refer to him as 'boy toy' because he's cute, very fit, and about seven inches shorter than her.

I wasn't surprised, in fact I was expecting it. I'd been pretty sure he'd been coming over most nights as soon as I left for work. Having finally come to terms with our separation (basically after picking up a couple girl friends), I wasn't bothered by this, I was amused.

I win. Ha ha!

I'm not entirely sure how the game got started, but it relates to the white lies that Cat and I tell each other about what we're doing. We still live in the same house, care for each other, so we're almost ridiculously sensitive to upsetting the other person. So we tell little white lies.
"How did your date go?"
"It was ok." (I got a handjob in the theater)
"You're home early so it must not have been that great."
"Yeah, she has to be up early." (Her husband gets up early)

We're both very rational people, we both know the other person is lying to avoid hurting feelings, but we already know it's going on. So somehow it turned into a game, trying to push the other person's buttons, catch them in a half-truth.

So today, I win! Ha!

Granted, I might have been more annoyed (gotta sleep on the couch? Ouch!) except I didn't actually have work tonight, we were given the night off. ;)

*note: The next morning she was all smug and kept saying that I was awfully smiley for having worked the night before. I made some excuse about getting off a little earlier and going to the bar. She kept saying I was too smiley for all that. I later realized she was laughing at me in her head the entire time, she'd found the visitor's pass to Jenn's apartment with a date/time on it, so she knew exactly what had happened the night before. Point to Cat.

Introspective Thoughts (part prose)

2009-11-09T11:09:00.006-07:00

I'm surprising myself these past few months, my deviancy, my own extremes. Each time I think I've reached a firm boundary I put a tentative toe over the line, enjoy it, and re-establish a far more distant line.

Control, deception, manipulation, dominance. All things that I never thought had a place in my life, let alone my sex life, are being slowly revealed. It's like rediscovering myself, rediscovering sex. Whole worlds being understood and opened up to me.

I think I feared my own subconscious, I feared giving way to anything but logic. When aroused you start to lose control, conscious thoughts fading to the background. You reach a point where you'd do anything for another touch...

Worse even than losing control of myself, giving that control to another.

So I locked away my subconscious, blocked it out as thoroughly as I could. But sex hardly exists outside the id.

After so, so many years I began to loosen up. It was like opening a valve under pressure, thousands of hidden desires, delights, flooded out. Out of pure shock, I tried to force them back in, but the waters would not be contained again.

So, in as controlled an experiment as I could, I began to test out these new cravings. Be a little more rough. She likes it, I like it... boundary pushed a little. Push it a little farther...

I began to look at the world through different eyes. With an ear open to this secret-self, everyday tasks, everyday objects, and everyday places took on a new luminescence. A beautiful little park, previously a 'nice picnic spot', would ignite fantasies of laying naked in the grass, straddled in the dark by a beautiful woman (...The sounds of not so distant cars passing nearby, their headlights flashing on us briefly. I would look up at the moonlit shadows playing over her skin as she rocked back and forth, then further up through the branches to see the stars rotating slowly overhead...)

Each confine I've tested has met with similar results, less limits. More dominance, more forceful, more explicit, more demanding, more adventurous, more duplicitous, more public... My own fortified image of myself has softened, and hardened, to make the image most ghostly and yet more full. Colors and shadows flicker across the surface while deeper, darker shapes move beneath. In the morning, I hardly recognize the face I see peer back at me. This has stopped bothering me.

More tests, more extreme, less control, more id. The view from here is extraordinary, though I can't yet see where all this is leading.

For the first time that satisfies me.

Separation Anxiety

2009-11-08T16:17:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there's a certain irony to life, or a circular logic that just keeps coming back to the same points.

At the time, Nikky's hand down my pants in the movie theater was simply a highly entertaining distraction, but in hindsight you can turn anything (even a hand job in a theater) into something deep and figurative [I returned the favor, but that's not what I meant ;) ].

A year ago, instead of having a lot of fun I'd have been freaking out.

Separating was a difficult thing for me. I just couldn't understand what I'd done wrong. I'd been a good provider, I'd been an attentive father and husband, I'd done absolutely everything I could to make our lives better... What more could she want? Who did she think she was going to find that was better? I was in a kind of denial for a long time. She moved on with her separated life and I wallowed. (Irony: this is almost exactly what is going on in Nikky's household right now)

Then, when I moved for a new job, we were living in different locations for a while and something inside of me snapped. If we were going to be separate than... gulp... I was single.

Picture this, being almost thirty years old, over-weight, depressed, mostly broke, driving a crappy 'family' car, married, living in a crappy little efficiency apartment, and trying to be single in a new place with no friends. Oh yeah, all the women were fighting to get to me. It wasn't pretty.

Then picture Cat (granted she had our daughter with her), as an attractive, outgoing, intelligent, available woman in her twenties. It made me feel so much worse when we'd talk on the phone and it would come up in casual conversation about how busy she was with her new fling.

As a kind of survival mechanism I started working out and eating well, mostly because those things helped balance the depression rather than because of any health reasons. Next thing I knew I'd dropped twenty pounds, felt great, and didn't have a problem with taking my shirt off at the pool anymore.

Dating was still an issue because I kept imagining picking up some hot young woman. It took me a long time to realize that "hot young women" fall into the laws of supply and demand. There's a limited supply and incredible demand. It was like walking into a bar and having a sign posted "you must be this tall, make this much money, have a penis this big, or have six pack abs to even get a conversation here". Waaaaay too much effort.

Eventually I gave up on the dating and concentrated on myself. I took up meditation, exercise, reading, writing, art... and just focused on being as whole a person as I could.

I met an attractive older woman in her mid thirties, she had a kid which seemed really weird when we started dating. Then I had kind of a revelation. Older women, divorced women, women with kids, married women... the supply is higher so the competition and demand is lower. Besides, they were more interesting, more mature, and more experienced. Most of them were already set up, they already had lives, they just wanted something to spice it up a bit. I was younger, fit, available... so I shifted my dating focus to women my age or slightly older and what a difference that made.

Young women play coy, reluctant, they're expensive, they play games, they play guys off of each other. They're a pain in the ass. Women in their thirties know what they want and aren't afraid to go for it. If they think you're hot, they'll tell you. If they want to get laid, they'll put your hand between their legs. Holy God, what a relief they were in comparison! And half the time they'll treat you to lunch!

For the first time, I started to realize what Cat had been talking about all those past years. She wanted to go out to feel sexy, to feel wanted, to be treated at like a woman and not a wife/mother. I mean, talk about an ego boost! From loser ex-husband to fucking sex god in six months... well, that's how it felt the first time I had hot women calling me up, asking me to make time for them, going out of their way to be with me instead of the other way around.

It made me look at the separation in a totally different light. It took a good part of a year but I finally figured out that it had absolutely nothing to do with me. I didn't do anything wrong. When I said she was hot, it was expected. When a stranger in a bar called her hot, it was exhilarating. We'd been emotionally and physically stagnant and I hadn't even realized it.

I've found boundaries inside myself that I didn't even know existed, some I realized were unfounded and others were reinforced. I've learned a lot about myself, I've learned a lot about women, respect, sex, and relationships. Hell, I've probably learned more about all those things in the past year than I did in all my previous years added together.

Obviously, those things didn't cross my mind while Nikky fondled me in public, or even when we found a quiet place to go afterwards, but today looking back... I've been re-reading the texts we've sent and it's obvious how similar her situation is to what mine was pre-separation. It's fascinating, scary, and educational, looking at it from this perspective.

She tells me about things that her husband does, the things that he thinks, and I can relate in ways that scare me. I can tell he's paranoid, depressed, closed-minded, over-reacting, and controlling, all of the knee-jerk reactions that seem oh so familiar. That he's right about his fears changes nothing, so was I.

After the separation so many things became clear. I really wish I could transfer some of that understanding to him, to my past self. He'd be so much happier. Of course, under the circumstances I don't think he'd be particularly interested in what I have to say. In his place, or my place a year ago, I wouldn't have been either.

((P.S. I'm sure there are people who might read this that look at me like the world's biggest asshole. I mean, specifically dating married women, divorced women, women with kids? That sounds awful. But really, I'm very upfront about myself to them. I'll tell them that I'm married, separated, and I'm not looking for anything serious. Most of them feel the same, though their situations might be slightly different. If they're interested than I treat them incredibly well, we have a good time, and everyone leaves happier for it. It's a terrible rationale, I know.))

Writing about Sex pt 1

2009-11-07T02:36:00.001-07:00

When I was in High School and College I took a lot of English classes; composition, creative writing, etc. I thought writing was definitely in my future, though whether it was being a novelist or blogging about being an immoral womanizer I had no idea.

One year a teacher brought in a female guest speaker. She specialized in Romance Novels. At first I thought it was a joke, but when I realized they were serious I seriously considered skipping to go get high with my friends. I didn't, and I'm glad I didn't.

What immediately surprised me about this author was how seriously she took her work. Basically, the first words out of her mouth were about how over-used and under-utilized sex scenes in books were. Sometimes authors would throw in a sex scene just to spice up a boring chapter, or conversely, skip out on a sex scene that could have added to the story.

Her point was that whether it is graphic or not, these scenes could add depth to characters. They could reaffirm a readers perception, or change that perception entirely. Writing is all about the interaction between characters, developing those characters, and making them believable.

She also explored word usage and when it was appropriate/inappropriate to use "his penis penetrated her vagina" or "his sword found it's way home into her sheath" or "the cock rammed into her wet hole". Depending on the word choice the scene could be scientifically accurate, euphemistic, shockingly dirty, erotic, awkward... the options were endless. And each option had it's use depending on what the author wanted to get across.

I was fascinated. Other than the occasional erotic story I read online to get off, I'd never really had any experience with written sex. Of course, in hindsight, there were dozens of books I'd read that had scenes, some a paragraph long, others pages, from authors that ranged from Stephen King to Shakespeare.

Then she handed out booklets on body parts and their various slang names. It was a dozen pages long with everything from "third leg" to "mushroom cap" to "honey pot", which caused the class to erupt into infantile laughter.

After she left we were told to choose an age, gender, place, and catalyst supposedly for a separate assignment. Being the smart-ass I was, I chose a 68 year old woman on the lawn with a lightning strike as the catalyst.

We were then told to write a sex scene about our choices. I'm sure you can imagine how well that went over when I had to read my story in class the next week.

A Note on Womanizing

2009-11-06T00:28:00.001-07:00

So, I describe myself as a womanizer, which is technically accurate (according to Wikipedia, or possibly as a 'rake' though that's a fairly uncommon term in the US). However, there are slightly different definitions and connotations, and I wanted to clarify my position slightly.

A common understanding of 'womanizing' is a man who uses women, possibly abuses women, to fulfill their own sexual urges with no care for their partner/partners. This isn't an accurate definition.

Technically, a womanizer is the male equivalent of a female 'slut', referring to promiscuity and not all that other stuff. It's simply a male who has promiscuous sex and resists being tied down in a standard relationship. Listed as 'womanizers' on wikipedia are Casanova and James Bond. Yes, James Bond.

While I might not have the dashing good looks, the money, or the amazing cars, I do share some characteristics with Bond. I love women, I treat them very well, and whether it's for one night or for a couple of months together, almost all of the women I'm with will remember me with fondness and a warm feeling in their... lower abdomen.

The problem is that I love all women. Nothing makes me happier than meeting new women. And then having sex with them.

So when you see the ex-jock sitting at the corner of the local bar, on the prowl for the night's two-pump-and-dump, don't denigrate the rest of us womanizers by using the same term for him. He might be promiscuous, but does he really fall into the same category as Casanova and James Bond? Loser and asshole where two terms not found in the definition.

Of course, I also describe myself as an asshole, but exploring that definition will be the task of another day.

She Makes Me Feel Like A Whore

2009-11-04T12:09:00.000-07:00

Money and Sex have been inextricably intertwined since the beginning of time. The currency in question might not have been "money" but food, protection, or status, the idea is still the same though. Sex in exchange for something, or providing something in the hopes getting sex... it's pretty simple. Obvious, almost.

About a week ago I mentioned something to Nikky about taking sky diving lessons, no big deal. I'd wanted to take them for a while but it always seemed like a frivolous expense, hard to justify.

Yesterday, I get a text from Nikky with a list of times and dates.
"Which ones do you think will work?" she writes.
"What will work?" I reply.
"I'm treating you to sky diving lessons."
WTF?

I was pretty well shocked. I mean, that's not the way it's supposed to work, is it? And honestly, the mere suggestion made me feel whorish, cheap. Like I was a boy-toy to be taken care of, given treats or something. 'Go down on me and I'll take you shopping later.'

That's when a creeping suspicion came to me. I quickly reviewed my past few dates with Nikky and realized that she'd subtly paid for most of them. They weren't anything big, a movie here, a cup of coffee there... and somehow she'd always been lightning quick with the debit card, picking up the tab. Usually with a wink and a smile, "It's ok, you get it next time..."

Only every 'next time' she'd catch the check first, again. If they'd been closer together I would have caught on, but we'd only had a couple of actual dates (not counting 'lunches') and they'd been spaced out.

Had I been whoring myself out for weeks? For cheap?

Then I thought back to my last date with Jenn... I was late getting to the theater... so SHE BOUGHT THE TICKETS...

First I was kind of offended. Then I was kind of flattered; they basically value sex with me enough to buy me things? They take me out to dinner, a movie... I put out.

In some strange reversal I'd turned into a woman.

Ha! I can feel the glares from female readers through thousands of miles of telephone lines! But it's true, isn't it?!?! Cat's always talking about how cheap it is for her to go out because the men always pay for the dates!

And now Nikky is stepping it up to the next level, literally buying me lessons? As a newly certified female I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of commitment. A date here and there is one thing, but I don't think I'm ready to have a "sugar mama" quite yet. I'm having too much fun "playing the field" right now.

Besides, in this economy you really need to keep your options open and sell only to the highest bidder. ;)

Duality of Being

2009-11-03T11:23:00.000-07:00

We all lead double lives to some degree, some more so than others. There's the house wife who sneaks out for a cigarette, or maybe has a secret fondness for a romance novel every once and a while. It gets her a cheap thrill, makes her feel like less of a square.

Then there's people like me, with slightly more elaborate and well-thought-out double lives. We're like mild schizophrenics. By day the dutiful husband/father, by night an egotistical womanizer. The two are so withdrawn from each other that they might as well be completely different people.

Instead of some slight duality, some nights I feel more like Evil Superman and Clark Kent. Both play-off the possibility of the other as slightly more than superstition.

In hindsight, one of the many problems with Halloween night was a conflict of personalities. If I had been able to completely isolate, compartmentalize, the different parts of the evening I would probably have been fine. Id would have had a blast with Nikky in the hotel room, Johnny could have handled Cat and friends.

The problem was that they overlapped. At one point, when Nikky was helping us get to the right area of town, my best friend actually met her [and Cat almost did too :O]... so which personality takes over? You basically have to blow one person off and see to the other. It complicates things, you wink at one and conspire with the other? Or you agree to a beer with one while grabbing a room key from the other? Bottom line, you can't do both. Not well at least. It creates stress, it drains you in ways that are hard to imagine.

Today was another day with some overlapping. Apparently I am addictive, at least sexually, because Nikky needed a fix despite being blown off Halloween night. The only time we could meet up was right after Cat left for work. At my house.

Who's house is it, the attentive father or the womanizer who has nude pictures of women as trophies?

It was a dilemma. One that made me realize the errors made Halloween night. I didn't want Nikky to know where I lived, I didn't want to share the Johnny side with her if the only part of me interested in her was Id.

Id won out. Was there any question? At the very least I needed something to write about today.

So she came over fifteen minutes after Cat left. We fucked each other silly, downstairs since Cat and I have an agreement about not having sex (with anyone but each other) upstairs (downstairs was never mentioned and so became a loophole today).

I made a makeshift bed out of blankets and padding, then welcomed her with conflicting emotions. Id was happy to see an easily available woman, Johnny was horrified to have sex with her next to all the accessories accumulated with Cat. In the day time. Like Mr. Hyde, Mr. Id is supposed to only come out at night.

Then she wanted to hang out, see the rest of the house. Id satisfied, Johnny just wanted her to get the fuck out of his house. The next twenty minutes until she left were excruciating. Smile and nod. Smile and nod.

What complicated webs we we weave when first we practice to deceive. Ourselves and others.

Ourselves and others.

Journey Through Jenn

2009-11-02T15:42:00.000-07:00

Anybody who's been following this blog must have realized that I haven't talked about Jenn much. I mention her here and there but haven't really posted about her. For the most part that's because our schedules have both been really messed up (If Nikky hadn't been willing to come visit me at work, I probably wouldn't have seen her either, my schedule's been so bad) so I haven't seen her since I started this blog.

She's also a little worried that she's getting addicted to me and therefore trying to distance herself between our dates. She knows that I won't change my situation for her and so she's trying not to get too attached.

In honor of Jenn, and my miserable Halloween, I've decided to write a bit of an erotic story about our last date. It'll make me feel a little better, it'll bring her into the blog, and it'll liven things up a little bit since my Halloween night was a bit of a drag. I don't typically write things like this, I tend to take a more Hitchcock-ian perspective, the less graphic the more the viewer imagines themselves. Sometimes, however, it can be fun to get a little down and dirty.

"Our Movie Date"
It was a Saturday night a couple of weeks ago. Jenn had to be up early the next morning so we picked out an evening movie showing, both agreeing to make this a short date so she could get some sleep.

She'd been at a work party and skipped out to see me. I hadn't realized this until I showed up and she was still in a skimpy black dress, both cut too low and too high at the same time. It showed a lot of skin, just the way I like it.

We sat down in the theater, my hands already tracing patterns on her thigh... I didn't know if I was going to make it through an entire movie with her sitting next to me. I wasn't sure I had the self-control.

Just before the movie started, and just before my fingers went too high between her legs, another couple sat down a seat behind us.

Well, that didn't need to end the fun, did it? The lights dimmed. I propped one leg over the other to slightly block their line of view and let my fingers begin to wander again. Up the leg slowly, gently, sliding under her dress. She's hesitant at first, she keeps glancing back at the couple. Their eyes never leave the screen and she starts to relax a little.

Some things happened on the screen, people laughed, neither of us paid it any attention.

A little higher up her leg. I could feel the lace of her panties. She let her legs drift slightly apart. I slid one finger under the edge of the lace near her hip and gently traced little circles on her skin. Her breath catches.

We notice an usher with a flashlight walking up the stairs. I remove my hand to her thigh and she straightens out her dress a little. He checks a chart on his clipboard, looks around for a moment, then turns and walks back to the exit. A second later I'm rubbing her clit through the lace.

I can tell she's thoroughly enjoying the little game, her eyes are half closed and she shifts her hips towards the edge of the seat for a better angle. I push her panties to the side and slowly trace the outline of her wet pussy. With a finger I split the lips and drift up and down.

Two minutes later we run out of the movie to my car. The parking lot had been packed when we showed up, I'd had to park in the back. Now it was dark and mostly empty.

I push her up against the side of the car and kiss her hard, my hands already pulling up her dress. I find the edge of her panties and pull them down. I get to my knees and she steps out of them. Dress still pulled up, a cool breeze blowing across her skin, she can feel my erection through my pants pressing between her legs. We make out for a few more moments before climbing into the backseat of the car.

She yanks down my pants and straddles me. She rocks against me for only a few seconds before cumming hard, I have to put a hand over her mouth to try and block some of the yells.

A second later, her breath still quivering, she starts to move again, more slowly. She's regained a little control, her moans barely audible each time she thrusts forward. I grab her ass, force myself deeper inside, and guide her.

Every time she starts to speed up I force her to slow down. I can tell it's driving her crazy. I pull down the top of her dress and start sucking on her nipples. Her moans get louder and she starts to speed her hips again. I force her to slow down.

Finally she can't take it any more, her thighs quiver against me, she plants her face in my neck to try and keep herself quiet. I begin to thrust up and she has to bite down to keep from screaming. I move deeper and faster, I can tell she's ready to cum again.

I grab her hair and pull up her head, she cries out. Then she screams and she starts cumming against me, shaking. Just when her body starts to calm again, I arch my back and thrust up as hard as I can, lifting us off the seat as I cum inside her. She screams again.

We collapse against each other, sweaty, spent. A minute later she checks my watch and we're doing well on time, the movie hasn't even gotten out yet. We decide to head back to her place for a little while.

But that is a story for another time. Sorry Frances, you'll just have to keep reading. ;)

My Special Day

2009-11-02T00:06:00.000-07:00

The one night this year that was supposed to be really, really great was a total and complete failure. I don't get many nights off work and kid-watching, let alone special occasions, so this was a very rare circumstance when I found out I had halloween completely responsibility free. I didn't even have to be back home the next morning, I could spend all night out, doing whatever the fuck I wanted.

For weeks I toiled over plans, ran over scenarios, for a while I was going to have dates with both Jenn and Nikky. Then plans fell through with Jenn but that was ok since Nikky got a hotel room just down from all the crazy halloween parties in town.

It looked pretty good.

Well, let me put it this way. For how good the plans sounded, apparently I didn't take myself into consideration. You see, I don't particularly like people. I don't like crowds. I don't like traffic. I don't even particularly like to drink. So in hindsight, this plan was terrific... for someone the complete opposite of myself.

By the time I found parking, wandered blocks and blocks through the packed crowds of people, said 'Hi' to the people I needed to say Hi to, waited forty minutes in line to pay a twenty dollar cover to get into the Bar Nikky was waiting at, I was already in a funk.

Then I get inside and I find Nikky completely plastered. She introduces me to her frinds three different times. The Rap "music" is so loud that one of her friends decides to give me a nick-name because she's tired of yelling "WHAT?" every time someone tells her my name.

Have I mentioned that I hate, HATE, rape music? The ratio of decent rap songs to crap rap songs is about 1 to 20, the next worse genre being country music with a ratio of 1 to 10. At least they play instruments.

The song they were playing there was particularly bad. It was some loud, repetitive base beat, overlaid with a guy saying "do the kinky leg, do the kinky leg" or some such crap, Over and over and over and over.

Nikky wants to dance. I don't dance and she can't stand up straight. I down four shots in about five minutes. When that doesn't improve the night's outlook I tell Nikky I'm leaving.

Let's just say she didn't take that very well. She's drunk, she has a hotel room, she's got friends she was showing off for, and her date for the night is leaving. I don't feel too bad because it's late and the place is full of young military guys scooping up the drunk chicks left and right. She'd have a better time with one of them.

I drive forty minutes home, half drunk, pissed off, at three o'clock in the morning. Luckily the cops were all too busy with the fully drunk people to pay me any attention. I slip in quietly, trying not to wake up the babysitter who'd stayed the night anticipating neither Cat or me to get home until the next morning.

Of all of the things I could have done and enjoyed on my special once-in-a-year night, I managed to do exactly none of them. I pissed off Nikky. I wasted my one night. I got exactly nothing out of it. In fact, I think it negatively impacted most aspects of my life.

I go to bed by myself. I delete all of Nikky's angry, drunk texts from the bar. I ponder my place in the universe.

Friday Follow Up

2009-10-31T00:39:00.000-07:00

Thankfully, I received a message this morning from Nikky saying that we were "all good". Hubby was suspicious but didn't have any actual evidence of wrong-doing. She had a half-way believable story about why she was out at three o'clock in the morning, not answering her phone. Plus, she's practically nocturnal, so running errands at night isn't that out of the ordinary for her.

Of course, now his antennae are up. We're going to have to be very, very careful for a while. I'd be ok with taking some time off but Nikky has been too long without a decent sexual relationship, so I think the best I can do is try and manage our risk a little better. Plus, she has a hotel room for tomorrow night...

My Halloween goal has been derailed, Jenn decided she needed some quality time with her son and so she isn't going out. Besides, I did the two-women one-day thing yesterday and we all know how well that worked out. It would have been so much fun to juggle Jenn and Nikky on the same night, so exciting on so many levels, but after the last 24 hours I think it's time to down shift for a little while.

I decided not to go out tonight, though Cat offered me the opportunity. I have this sense that my luck has been pushed just about to the limit, any good karma has been exhausted (What? I tipped the dude at Starbucks this morning). So if you are a person in good standing with the people upstairs, put in a good word for me. I could use it right now.

Two Two's For Thursday

2009-10-30T12:57:00.001-07:00

I had a couple of intellectual/philosophical topics I was going to discuss today, but the day's events kind of took over. Most of my days follow a fairly predictable, laid-back schedule, and I hadn't dreamed that a regular Thursday might overshadow my upcoming Halloween (which has been looking better and better, one of the things I was going to originally discuss). It was a day of two's, good as well as incredibly bad.

I should have known the day would end badly when it started so wonderfully. The universe has a dramatic sense of balance, and a killer sense of humor. It is my fervent hope that someone out there derived enjoyment from watching me today (or at least in reading about it), struggling like a fish on a line against forces beyond my control.

There's always a climb before the fall.

Cat had had a long day and laid down for nap in bed with me. After about an hour or so she woke and was feeling very "friendly". I woke up with her hands in my boxers and it just got better from there... She needed it, I wanted it, and for the first time in a long time we weren't interrupted by knocking and a "Mom?... Mom?..."

So, it was with a whistled tune that I went to work yesterday night, a bounce in my step, not a care in the world. There was no work to do, I'd just had a great time at home, it was looking like a terrific end to the work week.

I'd had plans with Nikky the day before but the universe, lining up it's 'coincidences', managed to corrupt both our days so that meeting up was impossible. We'd decided that we'd maybe try for a 'lunch' that night or simply rest up for Halloween. At one a.m. she sent me a text saying that she was headed over, hungry. The night was just getting better and better...

We found a perfect little lunch spot nearby, the beach having proven to be a messy option. So far so good, right? A damn good day! There was no work to do, so for the first time with Nikky we weren't immediately rushed. We took our time, had a lot of fun, and I realized shortly after that this might ruin my Halloween goal of having two women in the same day. Cat and Nikky. I wasn't positive though, because technically it was after midnight with Nikky, thought it was the same 'day' by my sleeping schedule. I laughed to myself, plenty of time to debate it later.

Afterwards, I jokingly asked if it had been worth the half hour trip. She jokingly replied that it would be worth getting busted for. Cue the foreshadowing music.

We get back to her car, she looks at her phone that she purposefully left behind, and realized she'd missed seven calls from her husband. Shit. Fuck. He'd woken up, realized she wasn't there, and then noticed the car was gone...

Being a fairly typical woman, an extraordinarily good liar, she'd already had a story lined up though she hadn't thought she'd actually need to use it. Breathless, panting, in her husband's car, it wasn't as persuasive as it could have been, especially considering that she'd had to modify the story to explain not answering the phone. As she dropped me off at work, gunning the car to head home, she commented about how important it was to have a story lined up ahead of time. Cue the foreshadowing music again.

First I went to the bathroom, washed my face and hands, then back to work. I'd been gone for almost two hours. One of my coworkers, making a joke at my expense, commented that I was a little red and sweaty, had I been getting some? The dumbfounded look on my face gave it away completely. No story lined up, ready to roll off the tongue. Busted. Not that it was at all comparable to Nikky's situation, mostly they just laughed it up for a bit, but still... not only was it embarrassing, it's also potentially problematic if anyone figures out that I hadn't been going home to Cat for my extended 'lunches'.

Nikky was supposed to write me, depending on how well her story went over. I haven't heard from her at the time of this posting. If he figures out what was going on it's only a short step to check the phone bill and find my number all over it.

Shit. Fuck.

Two girls, two amazingly fun experiences, and two busts.

Halloween is tomorrow but I guess both the treats and the tricks are out early this year. More to follow...

Blowjobs and Pics

2009-10-29T12:12:00.000-07:00

Anyone who's had regular sex for a long period of time realizes the inevitable, the physical act of sex can get boring. Very boring.

As a young man, the ultimate experience is often thought of in physical terms. As we age we realize how large a role the mental aspect play in our physical experience of sex. Giving up or taking control, mentally and bodily, can be extraordinarily arousing.

Let me break it down another way; the only reason we have sex instead of sitting around all day playing with our genitals is for the interaction with another human being. It's about manipulating another person's body, their comfort, their arousal, and in turn being manipulated yourself. It's part teamwork, part battle of wills.

Nikky is not a shy girl, not by a long shot, but she hates sharing anything other than family-style photos. Sexy pictures leave her feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed (pun intended). I have absolutely no interest in seeing a fuck-buddy's family photos, If there's no skin showing, don't bother me with it. So this was a bit of an issue for me... and yet, also an opportunity.

I spent most of the night subtly manipulating her into finally taking and sending me naked photos. The dirtier, the more she fought it, the more arousing they were to receive.

Aren't camera phones an amazing invention? It adds a whole new dimension to relationships in the telecommunications age.

When confronted with reluctance I've found that arousal is an excellent tool to get what you want. For a woman, the laws penned by Sir Isaac Newton come to mind:
"An object at rest tends to stay at rest; but once you get the proverbial 'ball' rolling, it doesn't want to stop until it's cum all over the place."

Okay, maybe those weren't exactly the words he used but they still apply. Ask a random woman for a BJ and you're going to get slapped, but you ask the same woman after 15 minutes of heavy petting, wet, hungry, an animal - you'll find her far more pliable.

So my texts to Nikky got progressively dirtier and dirtier until her responses started to get a desperate tinge, then after a few dropped hints that a photo or two would keep the party 'rolling', I got what I wanted: control.

It was never about the actual photos (that was just a nice, nice benefit), it was about getting her to do something she did not want to do. Something that truly bothered her in a primal way. It was just as arousing as grabbing her, strapping her down, and taking them myself would have been.

Which is why I think Nikky is slightly more fun than Jenn (even though Jenn is the more appealing of the two, physically and mentally), because Jenn has fewer boundaries for me to push against and Nikky has several really fun ones.

My only regret is that they both really like giving Blowjobs. I mean, they actually LIKE going down and that really takes a lot of the fun out of it.

New Website Button

2009-10-28T21:24:00.000-07:00

*NOTE: previously the button code did not work. I figured out the problem, fixed it, and placed the new button and it's code on the right frame.*

After some research I decided to create a button for the site. Will probably edit it, come up with a better picture at some point, but for now I have one that works.

Hopefully someone will use it. Hint Hint.

Johnny Id

An Endlessly Rotating Wheel

2009-10-27T13:07:00.000-07:00

I'm not a particularly religious guy. I was raised by a non-practicing protestant and a non-practicing catholic, both of whom decided that if they were going to hell they might as well make sure that's where their kids ended up too.

Actually, they wanted us to be raised open minded instead of brainwashed, which essentially meant that none of us kids are religious at all. As we got older we viewed the people who made the trip to church each weekend as a special kind of nuts. The weirder the religion, the more crazy it's participants seemed.

As many of us do, when we're approaching middle age at what seems like light-speed, I've discovered a sudden interest in what happens when I die. In my younger years I scoffed at the idea of an afterlife, quoting Nabokov to anyone who'd listen:

"Life is but a brief flash of light between two infinite periods of blackness" (poorly quoted from memory because I can't remember the text it originally came from)

Now, I'm a little more introspective because frankly I don't really want to ponder the possibility of slipping back into an infinite period of blackness. I mean, maybe it's only a temporary period of blackness between this life and being reincarnated as a pair of lacy black panties (to anyone up there listening a small size would be preferable but really any pair is better than a set of boxers). There could be anything after this, who really knows?

My recent addiction has been Buddhism, which is only ironic because they basically strive to eliminate the id from conscious beings. Here's a quote I particularly like from The Teachings Of Buddha:

"From desire action follows; from action suffering follows; desire, action and suffering are like a wheel rotating endlessly."

From desire a lunch date with Nikky is made (I work nights so my 'lunch' is at about 2 a.m.); from action follows long periods of picking sand out of random and awkward places (we 'ate' at the beach); desire, action and suffering are like a wheel rotating endlessly. Possibly not endlessly, there was a strict time frame involved since I had to be back to work and she had to be home before the hubby woke up for work. You get the idea.

Buddhism is all about eliminating desires, I'm all about exploiting desires (in myself and others), so you'd think this would be a futile interest. However, I've found some interesting things during my research. Much like Christians, there are magic words that you recite when you approach Buddha at the pearly gates (Ahem!) to gain admittance. After all, we can't all be as good as Buddha at resisting the temptation of humanly desires. Nikky on the beach at night, lunches can be so nice... scratches and sand a small price to pay, long as I don't die and go to hell the next day. Hey, that rhymes!

So as long as I can remember "I accept Jesus Christ as my personal savior..." and "Namu-Amida-Butsu" I'm pretty well covered for Western and Eastern religions.

These are important things to know, people! And not just for me! St. Paul/Buddha is going to look up from the tablet and mention that party a couple years ago or that YouTube video of the retards you laughed at, you'd better know the password!

Marital Irony

2009-10-25T20:27:00.000-07:00

*If this is your first visit, you should probably start at the beginning*

My wife has slept with more guys since being married than before, and that wasn't an insignificant, one-digit number either... In fact, the total that she'll admit to is about 20, which most of us understand for a woman is usually about half what the actual number is.

I don't remember how it came up in conversation but I told her that one of the women I'd been talking to is married. And guess what? She has a problem with me messing around with a married woman! Who'd a fuckin' thought??? She said it just seemed 'wrong' somehow. Yet her, a married woman, has never had an issue sleeping around on her husband, whether or not we considered ourselves still "married".

I mean, if there was one person in the world who I thought would appreciate the manipulative asshole I've become it would be my wife... Hell, I've learned more from her on the subject than anyone else on the planet. Where's the appreciation for a student who learns their lessons well? Gold star for Johnny and all that?

Usually I value her opinions, but in this case it was so ridiculous that I blew it off as soon as it processed through the "hypocritical/ironic" part of my brain, and continued to flirt with Nikky. The only thing that made me almost hesitant to flirt with her was the fact that she was not only married, she's married to a co-worker senior enough to get me into some serious troubles if he found out.

Up until last night there wasn't much he could have uncovered.

Ka-ching! Mark off the block on the Deviant List for Seduced-A-Married-Woman! As an added bonus, she's freakin' good too! I thought there weren't too many things a woman could do that would surprise me anymore, but boy, was I wrong. Being surprised by women twice in one day? I must be slipping...

Trouble Text

2009-10-25T20:26:00.000-07:00

*If this is your first time here, read the first post "The Set-Up"*

Until now, I've never dated more than one woman at a time. Maybe that's odd in this era of loose sex, but until recently I was a pretty traditional guy. Anyway, it's way more complicated than I'd ever anticipated, juggling schedules, calls, and dates to keep the girls ignorant of each other. Especially when you consider the age we live in where communications are so much faster and more frequent, increasing the odds of screwing something up. Of course, increasing the odds of screwing something up also increases the endorphin rush...

Originally I had the same goal as every other dude on the planet: get laid on Halloween. After running around all night, consuming alcoholic beverages and seeing all the women advertising their assets in next-to-nothing costumes, I wanted some guaranteed tail. As I'm currently seeing three women, this didn't seem like it would be too difficult.

Then I found out that Nikky had convinced the hubby to let her get a hotel room for the night. She wanted to go downtown to the party (where I planned to be) and managed a room by telling the husband that she didn't want to drive home with all the drunks on the roads (not to mention Nikky herself loves to drink). We've only been face-to-face once but I've been deliberately upping the sexual tension in our texts and emails, trying to check off the Seduced-A-Married-Woman block on my Deviant List. With alcohol, a hotel room, and slutty outfits in the mix... this was going to be a cake-walk.

With more tail available on the night in question, the goal evolved: get at least two pieces of ass on Halloween...

The idea of juggling Jenn and Nikky around on the same evening made my palms sweat and loins ache. Short of getting them both into bed at the same time (also on the Deviant List) this would be about as despicable a night as I could have. The kind of night where you're shaking your achy head the next morning in amazement, then pumping your fist in the air in triumph. Then probably icing down your over-used groin...

Yesterday morning Jenn was shopping around for a sexy costume when I was headed to bed (I work nights). When I woke up there was a text from her saying that she'd picked up the perfect one and sent me a picture.

I ran to the computer and found a very sexy Red Riding Hood waiting in my inbox. I wrote a text back.
"Damn, that's hot! Does that mean I should be the Big Bad Wolf?"

Jenn doesn't text/email much so I didn't think anything of it that she didn't write back right away. Nikky, on the other hand, is a text fiend. Of course I actually get to fuck Jenn and not Nikky (yet), so they balance each other out pretty well.

About an hour later I get a text from the wife:
"Lol, you so sent that to the wrong number!"

I was confused, not sure what she was talking about. I reviewed my sent messages and realized I'd sent her Jenn's message by mistake.
Fuck.

Cat and I have a pretty good arrangement, we both see other people but we're always respectful of the other person. That means telling a lot of white lies and half truths. So basically it's the same as a normal marriage except we both pretty much know what the other person is up to and keep up pretenses out of politeness.

The problem is that she's a far better, far more experienced liar than I am. Once I figured that out I hacked her email account and re-established balance. (Note to the husbands out there reading this; I highly recommend every husband hack their wife's email account. Just don't let on that you know anything, gather intel for divorce or for when you're own actions come out.)

On one hand it was a relief that I accidentally sent the text to the wife and not the potential fuck-buddy, Nikky, which would have totally ruined the two-pieces-of-ass goal. On the other hand, there's always a delicate balance between the wife and I, which this threatened to displace. Having an independent, attractive, intelligent, successful wife is like living with your neck under the guillotine, make a move she doesn't like and she can totally fuck your life. And she knows it.

Luckily, she read the text and laughed her ass off at my expense. I wouldn't be surprised if she comes home from work one of these nights and has some fangs, furry gloves, and an ugly wolf costume for me. She pictures me at the bar trying to pick up chicks in that get up and just laughs... and laughs... And me using that line to flirt with Jenn? It's too pathetic to upset the balance. Luckily.

As the information age creeps further and further into our lives, it gets harder and harder to keep some things separate: different women you're trying to fuck, a husband who hopefully hasn't tapped his wife's email yet, and a wife who knows more than she wants to.

It's amazing how much more complicated life gets when you're a deceitful asshole to half the people you know. And yet, somehow that just makes it more fun.

Setting It Up

2009-10-25T20:25:00.000-07:00

First off, I'd like to say that, believe it or not, I used to be an incredibly moral/normal person. At what point exactly that part of my brain fried I don't know. After years of emotional, legal, physical, and financial abuse by every person and organization I came into contact with... I don't think one specific incident could be directly blamed for the changes, it's been more of a systematic breakdown, a rebirth into a lying, womanizing, don't-give-a-shit asshole.

It's been fun.

Logically it doesn't make any sense, Ghandi's "an eye for an eye..." and all that, like emotionally and physically abusing others won't improve my life or right wrongs done to me. I know all that but logic plays a small, small role in our lives and generally detrimental. This all feels... highly justified.

The Women:
Cat - The wife, married for seven years but it's devolved into a friends-with-benefits/roommate situation. We'd probably be divorced except for our daughter and unfortunate finances (caused almost entirely by the economic disaster that the country's in). She's hot, too hot, has attitude as long as her legs. She's a yoga instructor, so yeah... she's a high value commodity but not so much into fidelity.

Jenn - A very nice, wholesome, woman with a seven year old son and by far the largest breasts I've ever had the pleasure of playing with. She's recently moved here, broken up with her long time girlfriend, and is staying with friends, which means whenever we meet up we have to play horny-teenagers in the back seat of the car. Our schedules don't match up well so we only meet up once a week or so. She's a cool chick, fun in the backseat or the front, but possibly looking for more commitment than I'll ever offer.

Nikky - A cynical night-owl with a six year old son, is currently married to a co-worker much higher up the career ladder than me. I work nights and we send dirty text messages back and forth for hours while I'm at work and her hubby's asleep. I'm currently trying to convince her to cheat on her husband, which shouldn't be difficult if we ever get the opportunity but finding holes in our schedules that line up has been an issue. We've only met face-to-face once but we've been flirting for weeks.

Cat knows that I'm seeing other girls but doesn't want to know specifics (just like I don't want to know hers). Jenn and Nikky both know I'm married, separated, and living with my wife- but they don't know that I still sleep with her. I mean, we're two attractive adults, sleeping in the same bed and know exactly what the other person likes, of course we still have sex. In fact, we probably have sex more often than we did when we considered ourselves "married" because now it kind of feels dangerous, like we're cheating somehow. How messed up is that?