It was over six years ago when Crystal came home from work and, as usual, asked me what I had done during the day. I, with absolutely nothing exciting to offer, threw out a bit of sarcasm and said the most outrageous thing I could think of, “I spent all day sleeping with my Asian schoolgirl”.
Crystal pursed her lips together, trying not to laugh at my stupid joke, “Oh yeah, what’s her name?” she asked with a bit of a smirk.
I pride myself on being witty and quick on my feet. I’m always the first with a smart retort or a sarcastic comment but I was already stifling giggles. The “master bullshitter” was almost humbled.
“Ming Li,” I said, “Her name is Ming Li.”
With that, we both busted out laughing and enjoyed the moment. However, little did we know that an inside joke and, worse yet, a running gag had been born.No comments
For a long time, I’ve been looking for a good mini-bullet. I had one once, but used it until it broke. I like the minis because they give more direct vibration.
However, my search for the perfect vibrator has been very frustrating. I’ll buy something that looks like it will work, only to be let down when it’s either too bulky or not powerful enough.
As Jonathan mentioned yesterday, our air has been out and there has been somewhat of a revival in oral sex because even though I have nothing against getting hot and sweaty, I find it hard to keep going in ninety degree heat.
So, this brings me to the perfect vibrator. Every once in a while when Jonathan was going down on me, he would say something and the vibrations would travel through me. I told him at some point, we would have to try it in all seriousness and try it we did.
Last night, Jonathan surprised me. He lightly pulled my clit between his lips and started to hum. When the pitch changed, the vibrations changed. When he sped up or slowed down, it changed. It was in a word incredible.
No worrying about batteries. No fooling with inadequate equipment. No pulling the chord out of the damn egg (the fate of my first and only satisfying bullet). Just a nice and natural solution.
So guys, if you haven’t tried this on your lady, try it to night. You both might just be surprised at the reactions you get. However, I would stay to simple tone humming rather than songs, especially Manamanah.No comments
Or rather, the air is off.
Our beloved air conditioner took a nose dive on us Wednesday. It blows air but it doesn’t cool. It probably needs a recharge or just a good servicing, but with less than two weeks to go in our rental unit, it almost seems to be a waste of time to get it fixed, especially since our landlord probably won’t get anyone out until well after we’re gone.
So now we’re suffering. It’s New Orleans in May. The air is humid, the temperature is high and we have all of our fans going full tilt. This is not the way we wanted to spend our last days in this house but it seems to be the way it’s going down.1 comment
As I mentioned before, I’m not a small woman. However, I wouldn’t look right really thin either. Coming to that conclusion and being comfortable with my size has taken a long time. Yes, there are still days that I wish I were lighter but they are much fewer and farther between than in the past.
I first started having problems with my weight in middle school. I had abnormal periods and was put on birth control. I think that that was the start of the screwing up of my metabolism. After starting the pill I gained a little weight. I was a size 16 and was picked on by all the kids in school not only for my size, but also my anti-social nature.No comments
Time has been short lately.
Between the new house, job issues and everything else that has been going on, we haven’t had much time left to go out, meet people and, hopefully, get introduced to our next girlfriend. Both the time and energy have been lacking to have our usual adventures.
Sure, we’ve been having a lot of fun just the two of us, but we still wish we could get out there more. Our lives, however, are kind of on hold until the new house is bought and moved in to. Until then, we’re floating around in limbo.
To counter that, we’ve been debating another idea, posting an ad on Craigslist and seeing if we can somehow fit dating back into our schedule.No comments
While driving around earlier today, we were behind a police officer for about a mile. This is no big deal, he was going the same way we were, but then suddenly turned off. I realized that it was because he had reached the Jefferson/Orleans Parish lines but what if that hadn’t been the reason?
What if, we made him nervous and he decided to turn because of us. I posed the simple question to Jonathan “Do you ever wonder if cops get nervous when we follow them like we do when they follow us?” He thought for a moment and then his eyes lit up. “I want to try it” is all he said.
So, the rest of the ride home was devising how we would do it. First, we would need to get a very recognizable car, think traffic cone orange. Then we would need to spot a cop and just start following him around for a little while. Finally, we could record our little experiment and document the cops reactions.
There was some silliness about if they tried to pull us, following them and telling them that we were following them first. Think, Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd running in circles around a tree. We had a good laugh and continued home.1 comment
Highway 49 is a desolate Louisiana Highway. It stretches north to south through the state, starting up in Shreveport, cutting through Alexandria and down to Lafayette.
It travels through some of the loneliest parts of the state and, especially at night. It’s primarily used by truckers, who need to get their goods from the port in New Orleans up to Dallas or other points north. This means that, on weekends, it can be especially dull.
The most barren stretch is between Opelousas and Alexandria, a seventy-mile stretch with no towns, just woods, farms and marsh.
It was there that Crystal and I found ourselves late Friday night. We were heading north toward her parents’ house and we were bored. Crystal was driving, as she usually does the second leg of the trip, and we were both tired, the conversation had slowed and the music was uninspiring.
I looked over to her after checking my mail on my cell phone, “What do you want to do to pass the time?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, “But you could always masturbate.”2 comments
After a long hard day at work, we went by the house we plan on buying. Today was its inspection day and it passed fairly well. There are a few concerns, but nothing major. So, tomorrow I will send off the check for the appraisal.
When we left the house, we headed to one of our favorite local restaurants, Cafe Rendezvous. It’s a great place to go and relax, not to mention we have become fairly good friends with the daytime manager, J.
Tonight, J came and sat at our table and asked her to come up with some drinks to put on the sign out front. We came up with quite a few and laughed and acted shocked at some of the names. She joked about asking a male bartender for a “screaming orgasm” and a few other names.
She then told us about an incident with the sign. Now, you have to understand that J is Spanish and though she speaks English very well, she doesn’t always spell it very well nor does she understand every word of American slang. The cafe is on a very busy intersection and she has mentioned many times people stopping in to let them know of a misspelling.
However, this wasn’t her usual tale of misspellings. Here’s what happened: J had asked one of the girls to go and change the sign because she couldn’t be pulled away from work at that moment. Four hours later, J had to go to her car for something. On the way back, a couple leaving the restaurant were giggling.
The man said “Honey, if I knew they were serving that, I might have ordered it for you.” Then they both started laughing.
Curious, J went over to check the sign. Instead of reading “steak and cocktails” it read “steak and cock.” Unfortunately, the tale doesn’t end there.
J never hearing the term cock before (I couldn’t believe it either) went inside and started asking customers what the strange word meant.
Finally, one of the waitresses told J that she just couldn’t go around asking people about that word.
J responded “Why not it’s on the sign.”
After it was explained to her J couldn’t believe that the other girl would put that on the sign.
The waitresses excuse? “I couldn’t make cocktail fit.”
So, after a long hard day, hanging out with a cute Spanish woman (who always hugs and makes physical contact with me) and hearing a funny story at the end of the day made the evening a little brighter. It was the perfect choice for dinner tonight.No comments
Right after our first threesome, I was in a state of pure bliss. Not only had I just had some of the most incredible sex of my life, but I was in bed with two very beautiful, smiling women.
We were all exhausted. Orgasms had been traded back and forth for hours on end and, though it was only mid-afternoon, we felt like we needed a good night’s rest. After we cleaned up we all jumped back into the bed, still nude, and began to cuddle, softly and affectionately.
It was, and still is, one of my favorite memories.No comments
As Jonathan and I were walking around our neighborhood last week, looking at houses, a car drove past. Nothing unusual about that, however what was unusual was that a girl yelled out “Nice Ass” to me.
I’ve gotten many compliments on my posterior before. It wasn’t anything new. However, it did take me by surprise that a girl would so brazenly yell out her appreciation. Unfortunately, she was driving too fast. By the time the her cat call reached my ears and registered in my brain, she was gone.
I walked back to the edge of the street and looked after the car, but to no avail.
I have to wonder what would have happened if she had slowed down to see if I would stop and turn around. I have to wonder had she somehow known that Jonathan and I date girls, if she would have gotten out of the car to compliment me. I have to wonder, who she was and if she thought about my ass while masturbating that night.
I wish that she would have stopped. I wish that women would have the courage to come up to me and be so direct. And, I wish that I could be just as direct back.
I think that, as women, we’re taught to be sensitive to other women’s feelings. We’re taught to not talk like guys to other women. We’re taught to play games and not to be straight forward about how we feel or what we want. Even though this woman in the car was blunt, she was still playing a game because if she had truly not cared about what I would think, she would have stopped the car. She would have gotten out and she would have told me to my face/ass what she thought of me.
I wish she had. We might have made a new friend from the experience, and she? Well, she would have had a great time I’m sure.No comments