***Let’s start by having a solemn farewell to Cold War, who is gone but not forgotten. He’s got some things to sort out, I’ve got faces to sit on. Maybe we’ll pick up where we left off after it all buffs out, if not I’m pretty solid with what I learned from the experience and I’m happy with his mark on my journey. (I will fuck you proper, you big stupid man! Write me!)***

Rufio and I have been in contact for several months, and only recently started meeting up since he got back from JRTC. Soldier, mechanic, short Mexican. These are a few of my favorite things. He’s my age, funny, super weird, and he plays Halo with me ALL NIGHT LONG. Plus… face sits. But let’s back up to why he’s kind of amazing.

First of all, we met on MeetMe. I came on SUPER STRONG right from the get go, because I don’t waste time and I’m forward. He played it casual, so I let up and figured he just wanted someone likeminded to chat with about anything not involving his job. Spoiler, he’s not really happy in the Army. Been in 10 years, getting out in a few months. He’s done, son. We talked about music, my blog, and my encounters hooking up. He tells me about his 5 tours in Afghanistan, and some things that sounded terrible to experience. When he went off to JRTC I kept him company at night with nudes reminders he’s awesome. He nonchalantly mentioned bringing handcuffs over for a gaming night, and that’s when the light came on he was interested in more than just casual chatty-Cathy conversations. Clearly I’m not too great at this flirt thing, I turned off all signals to this one weeks/months ago and just pursued him platonically. Turns out that’s kind of his deal, because he wanted to get to know me first. Uh… don’t fly too close to the sun, Icharis.

He ended up completely entwined in my personal life when on a night we were busy rolling around in my bed NOT copulating (no really, I’ve never been so sexually frustrated by my own doing,) my gay husband and his boyfriend came over around 3am completely shithoused drunk and demanding we do mushrooms with them. Clearly I’m down, but what about naked Hispanic man in my bed right now… he shrugs and says sure, why not. Hooray! (Confession, this terrified me more than anything. We were about to impart on him the great party knowledge of all our big, gay years combined as well as share with him a facet of my lifestyle the vast majority of my conquests will never even glimpse at. Namely, that I’m more than just an insatiable fuckpuppet with a kink list longer than the lines at the welfare office. I’m a god damn treasure to trip with and I’m funnier than I let on.) I’m sweating bullets that he’s going to know me on a more personal level than I’m comfortable with, namely through the big mouthes of my besties beligerantly announcing all my secrets and lost stories. I keep a lot of my personal life out of my hookup life, even the awesome stuff. Very long night of laughter wittled down, he now listens to Pogo and appreciates Kylie Minogue’s Les Foiles concert during the Aphrodite tour, in London. (It’s the best 2 hours of your life on psychadelics. Consider this a free token of wisdom. Drug dealer approved, YouTube it!!!) He stuck around all night, offered to get food with me in the AM when the gays went home, and even texted me later! This was all a surprise, I was FOR CERTAIN we’d have him scared off real quick when not even 30 minutes into silly time Dan the Man comes out of my bedroom in full drag in my dead grandmother’s fur coat, and later again with a strapon on his head in just his underwear. This absolute shit show hurled hilarious insults at me all night and it couldn’t have been much better for anyone who loves or hates me to have witnessed. Next day, they trip on mushrooms again, I crash out early with a tummy ache. Rufio ends up bonding with my gay husband Pattycakes on an hour long walk around my neighborhood. He has now been adopted into the friend circle, so sayeth the gays.

Have I mentioned why his name is Rufio yet… of course not, because you’re not ready for the punchline. So the night of mushroom madness, we did NOT have sex. But we did masturbate, separately. When he climaxes… when he climaxes… are you fucking ready for this… when he climaxes he says BANGARANG. Not every time, but often when it’s a really good one. I was not prepared for this moment. (Also, now I understand why it’s his gamertag…) Remember Cold War and his thing for trying to make me laugh when I had semen in my mouth? What are the chances. I hope this means I’m truly getting better at attracting my kind of people in this funny game I’m playing. So he says BANGARANG and I lose my mind. I laughed so hard I literally fell off my bed and was just ugly laughing and rolling around on the floor. This did not let up for a while, and I would crack the fuck up any time it came to mind thereafter. If you haven’t yet, download the song BANGARANG by Skrillex. You’re welcome.

Fast forward to tonight. I’ve been on a fucking BENDER since Wednesday or Thursday. Saturday afternoon I’m HUNG-TO-THE-OVER. I shouldn’t paint it like I’m out doing all the drugs and drinking all the booze- I’m actually quite the lightweight for some things. Okay just alcohol. I’m 5’1″, that makes me a 2 drink kind of girl. I like being a cheap date, since I insist on paying for myself most times. He texts me for a  brief recap of my last few days, then asks if I want to get some food. Sold, ding ding ding, we have a winner. Please and thank you, yes. Then he asks if I’d like him to deliver it to me… what. Was that an option? I can’t even with this man right now. I insist on not being catered to in that way, because it just seems… like too much to ask… even when it was freely offered. I will drive to meet you! Let me just shower… oh hey, I can barely walk and I’m still feeling pretty buzzed. He offers to pick me up and take me to my absolute favorite burger joint in Anchorage- Burger Cache on Northern Lights/ Lake Otis. If you haven’t been, get the Burger Supreme and thank me later. It’ll cure what ails you. I’d get in any stranger’s van for a promise of that sweet beef candy. We go get food, and he even paid for it. At his insistence. FINE, JUST TREAT ME LIKE A LADY. Or a helpless idiot damsel you feel ruthlessly sorry for because I am a dumpster fire when I’m hungover. A pitiful, whiny, incorrigible train wreck. Pet my hair and tell me you love me.

After food I tell him I’d like to get our snuggle on because I am right as rain again. He’s down. We get back to my house and BAM! I’m almost asleep in those big strong mechanic arms he’s got going on. He’s like… 5’5″ and in great shape, our puzzle pieces fit well together for mutually beneficial cuddle rape. He doesn’t know the rapin’ is about to commence. The raping did not actually take place. I have still not had sex in several weeks, due to my IUD bleeding, Cold War, and my hood piercing. Oh, and I started my god damn period earlier this week, because God hates me. None of that is why we didn’t bang. We may or may not have crossed a boundary with him assimilating into my friend circle… he’s no longer considered a nameless fuck stick I will discard… he’s one of us. So, that complicates how we possibly proceed. Maybe. Or he just didn’t want to put his penis in me because telling me No is it’s own reward. In which case you can go fuck yourself, you alluring little beaner! Preferably with my vagina. We were cuddle grinding and pawing, mostly me on him, when I let up and accept my fate of he’s no longer interested and I wasted my opportunity with him on mushroom mayhem night. He slaps my ass and moves my hip over, tells me he wants to eat my ass right now. I’M NOT ARGUING. He does his thing until I one with my headboard, then tells me to sit on his face. I’m still not arguing. Oh. My. Fucking. World. That piercing is DIVINE in the mouth of a box muncher! He’s the only one who’s touched it or put his mouth on it. I’m glad it’s first run was with someone so expertly and keenly interested in pleasing a woman that way. He loves to go down, I love to appreciate it. I went down on him, but even my phenomenal beej skills can’t really compete with how he’s touched himself for years hahaha. So he tells me to talk dirty to him while he finishes himself off, deal. I need to work on my dirty talk anyway, my sexting is LAAAAAAAAAAME unless it’s just pictures of my b-hole. He cums LITERALLY ALL OVER ME and lets out a guttural BANGARANG in satisfaction.

Stop here. If you know anything about me, you know I hate semen. Hate it like Faux News hates fact checking. Har har, liberal humor cuz I’m a whore! Eat your money. What the fuck am I even ranting about now, sorry. I’m actually STILL a shit show. So he sprays his seed all over me from my wrist to my shoulder, and his belly. Why is there so much, Cholo Baggins!? I may have had a seizure, maybe it was shock. I’m not sure. A fugue state? Any way, it took a few minutes of processing for me to really accept the magnitude of how much of his personal fluid was on me before I could remedy it. I hate semen. After clean up we smoked a victory cigarette, and then kicked the last level in my Halo co-op game’s ass. We’d been working on it for a while. I’m not a great gamer, and I don’t play competitively or care to… I just like kicking the shit out of the covenant and the flood for a few hours a time, in the company of a likeminded person. Who must be attractive. And Funny. And smell good. And tell me I’m pretty. PRETEND YOU’RE MY ABUSIVE STEP FATHER AND SHOW ME HOW TO WRESTLE. I’m done here.


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