Then there are days where I just cannot get enough attention and sex. What in the absolute hell do you do in that scenario? Obviously just run the gambit of conquests until you feel replete again, am I right?
Juneau came by and gave it to me real good like, around 7 or 8pm- I love his dominance. We started out in the shower because he was all greased up from work. In fact, I came home to him in my house trying to figure out the reverse-plumbed shower an just standing around mostly naked looking confused. Don’t judge, I told him he could go in while I wasn’t there but was on my way! There may be no better feeling than coming home to a guy who wants to fuck me. (Joker beat me home once, too- it’s a good feeling.) Shower was nice, we got soapy and silly. I like his strong hands all over me. We hit the bed and get right to business. He pins my hands, tells me NO, and gives me direction. Yes please. I got so many orgasms I actually fell asleep on him when we finished. And what a body to fall asleep on! That boy’s everything was made to be appreciated and loved. I want to run my fingers along his abs all day and night. We dozed briefly, I’m sure I was drooling on him (not even sorry about it,) and he says he’s gonna head out to go get dinner. Works for me, I’m content to just stay in my bed and ride these happy brain chemicals for a while. I had the biggest shit-eating grin on my face. That’s a hookup done right, fellas. I really enjoy this partner for a variety of reasons: he puts in the work to get me mine, he’s excellent with communication, he’s hotter than the fires of hell, and he’s kind.
My phone is always in a state of notifying me of activity somewhere, be it Facebook or one of the apps I use for dick farming. Lots of text messages. I get one from a prospective partner I’m really digging asking what I’m up to, and I tell him I’m in bed for the night but I wouldn’t mind getting a drink. He bartends, this could work out. But he bartends across town from me and I’m naked, in bed, post-coital, and very content. I still want to see him. Ok, I’m gonna take the plunge and go hangout while he’s at work. I get dressed, brush my teeth, and take the drive to his little bar. The drink he made me was basically pure alcohol and I couldn’t get it down, he had to help AND finish it for me. This is my first time meeting him in person and I should be completely honest he’s not my go-to type on the apps… but I find him irresistible. My age about, got his shit together, bigger guy, makes me laugh, treats me like I’m gorgeous. He seriously kisses my hand and all the way up my arm. Gomez Addams me all night, buddy. His cadence makes him sound like he has an accent, but he doesn’t at all. After his shift we hit up Crossroads for drinks HE DIDN’T MAKE since apparently he heavy-pours like a motherfucker. The close out of the night was hanging out in my car people watching, eating Taco Bell. And making out a bunch. Oooooh yeah. Such a great kisser. We make plans to see each other for a date-date, movie, food, night at my house. I’m excited. This is the kind of dude I could actually catch feelings for, but I’m not worried about it. I’m so absolutely head over feet in love with my gay husbands I’m not even entertaining the idea of actual dating. Nothing stands in the way of All The Dicks, not even me.
I go home around 3am, having to be up around 6 for an appointment. Ugh. Hates it already. I notice someone viewed my profile on an app I use- it’s Foot Fetishist! Mmmkay, I wonder if he’s back from leave yet? Boom, he texts me. I’m still driving at this point so I ask him to call instead, but he tells me he’d rather just come over and talk to me all night. Mmmmhmmm “talk.” Nigga, we don’t have to pretend we’re friends if you don’t want to; I’m down for pound town/ NSA. This pretense of friendship is in YOUR head, not mine. Anyway, I’m excited to see him regardless of what bullshit he wants to pretend we’re going to do. I go brush my teeth again, not that it mattered since I was smoking like a chimney. I’ve been chain smoking lately from the pressure I’m feeling about what’s going on with the blog. I need to work on coping skills for stress, getting lung cancer doesn’t sound like a very solid long term option. Sex? Sex sounds like a good coping mechanism, and I can get it in abundance at the touch of a button. He comes over and immediately starts putting hands on me. Supposedly it’s my fault because I’m not wearing pants. Uh… I don’t wear pants. Anyway, we bang it out. Super fun times, I dig him. He’s also got a thing for licking my face while he’s fucking me… interesting. I mean, I’ll get into it if you’re into it, doesn’t bother me at all. He tells me I make him want to cum, so I encourage his orgasm. I love his climax, there’s just something about it that gives me the tingles. Sex was briefer than last time, but I gather he was tired from traveling and life stuff. Ok, I get it. We chit chat for a bit then he has to leave suddenly; I have a sneaking suspicion this was his planned exit to begin with, but it was framed as an emergency type thing. Whatever’s clever, hot stuff. I got what I came for. He mentions wanting to pick up psychedelics for NYE… that poses a problem, but I’ll see about helping out. (Remember, kids: get your party favors well in advance before the big night. Drug dealers like to go have fun, too.)
He leaves and I have to begin my day at that moment. At least my stress levels were eased by the orgasms, I’m feeling pretty good. I meet up at a coffee shop with a guy who follows my blog and he gives me an Xbox 360 controller since mine are toast. Super nice! I’ve got fans! When do I get all famous and the expensive free shit starts rolling in? The coffee turns me up to 11 and I kick ass all day running errands and going to appointments. I feel on top of the world. Ugh what am I going to do if this thing takes off and gets big? Just the thought of it is turning me into Judy fucking Garland.