June 2003 Archives

I just went back to re-read some old email.

Thank you!

Did I ever tell you that you rock?

New Position:

U got 2 try a new position, yeah
Somethin' that'll make it all right
Oh, a new position, yeah, yeah
Let's go fishin' in the river, the river of life

In the dark and brooding silence.
Bruised and sullen storm clouds
Have the light of day obscured.
Looming low and ominous
In twilight premature
Thunderheads are rumbling
In a distant overture...

Rush. Jacob's Ladder.

Jeremy.

I still think it's a powerful song.

So there's a locally known chain of stores that sells a vast selection of periodicals.

I bought a few straight (sort-of—got the Tripping mag but put 2600 back) magazines and holy shit did I buy porn.

I don't look at porn at work. Not at all.

But thinking about what I saw as I browsed is giving me a tremendous woody.

Messy, sticky, no-holds-barred.

Mmm.

I was thinking about the deer-in-the-headlights thing.

If I feel that way, it means I'm doing something I've never done before—which means I'm still learning.

Therefore, the issue is my attitude.

Consider it changed.

Fortunately I forget about her in-between visits.

I went to get prescriptions that I called in previously.

Whether she meant to or not, she looked like she was happy to see me.

Brown hair/brown eyes. Totally my thing.

Plus, she's busty.

Dying her hair with that unnatural deep bluish-red color. That's OK.

The cool thing is she kept me waiting while she checked through all the the envelopes.

I took the opportunity to check out her cleavage. I think she is well-endowed but trying hard to disguise it.

Anyway, I left the office with a wink and a huge grin on my face.

Shit...

I'm off to get some pills from Dr. Feelgood...

My brain chemistry being what it is, that's a good thing.

For so much of what I'm faced with. I guess nobody really is, but I feel like such a deer-in-the-headlights sometimes.

I wonder why I spend so much time thinking about the past.

Hadn't seen her since high-school, yet I was petrified that I would run into her again. Which was stupid.

When I ran into her at Houlihan's, she was sitting at a large table with like 7 other people.

My waitress was leading me to a table just past hers.

We recognized each other immediately. No big deal.

She hardly looks different at all.

She made a point to look at me several times, which required special effort on her part.

And before she left, she stood in the lobby looking at me.

Makes me wonder a lot about where she is at.

Not that it matters, but for whatever reason it's on my mind today.

That and the weird dream I had about a school on a hill and trying to find my way around campus and looking for rooms and suddenly ending up outside the buildings again.

And the large room where the pastor or reverend was about to hold a service. He was confused that the way into the room had more steps than the way out.

I think that my dreams are written by Dali.

It was in the fall and rainy.

I didn't drive yet because my parents couldn't afford the insurance.

She didn't drive because her parents didn't trust her.

I was a goody-goody.

She drank and smoked pot. Asked me to work for her the day after a bender. I always did.

But she wanted me.

She waited for my shift to end, then we walked over to a park that was like a mile away.

I remember kissing her against a big old tree.

I remember tasting her.

I remember her hounds-tooth-checked pants because she encouraged me to rub them just so.

I wasn't ready for anything like this.

But that's OK. I was just rebound boy.

A few months later she was going out with a taller guy, a football player.

I didn't understand that either.

I felt something for her. In retrospect I think it was mostly lust, and somehow thinking I could return what was being given to me.

I was so clueless.

The next one sent me flowers.

When you wrote that, it was happening to me.

But reading that really makes me want it again.

I'm already moaning.

You nasty thing!

masturbation for the soul

I couldn't keep track of what was where—your hands and mouth on my cock and balls...

But I haven't come like that in a long time.

I was nothing but my cock and you owned me.

At this point I think I need Gatorade or something.

I don't know if I lost more body fluids in perspiration the way I was squirming and thrusting about involuntarily or if it was from how you kept coaxing come out of me.

This just in from my cock, who wishes to remain anonymous—he is firmly demanding more.

Thanks, Pussy Ranch!

1. Did you ever overhear your parent or parents making fuck when you were living at home?

Yeah. The last time was when I came home from college one weekend. I was walking around the house trying to figure out what the noise was. Yeah, it was the mattress.

2. Did you ever have sex in your parents' home? In their bed?

First time I had sex was on the floor in the family room. We had just watched Blue Velvet. Never in my parents' bed. I never liked that room.

3. Where was the first place you masturbated?

In the bathroom. Hmm. I see a theme.

4. Would you fuck a sibling or cousin for fifty million dollars? How about just making out?

Sibling? No. I have two brothers. While I am willing to admit that there are some very beautiful men in the world (Depp, Grant, Pitt), none of them have my last name. Cousin? Yes. At least two of my cousins were, uh, easy to get along with. They were fuckable. Beautiful women.

5. If you fell totally, madly in love with someone and then found out they were your first cousin, would you break it off?

Fuck no. I'm all about not thinking things through. If I feel it, I pretty much wear it on my sleeve anyway.

uncomfortably tight...

I can totally seeing myself finally kissing you deeply.

Holding you close with one arm, tracing the fingers of my other hand up your back and neck into your hair.

God...

Allman Brothers: Whipping Post

Genitorturers: Velvet Dreams

Hmm. My dreams ought to be real interesting tonight.

As long as you've had all your shots, it's all good.

At this point, I'm making myself ill.

I remember a routine from when Steve Martin still did stand up.

Something on the lines of:

"I went to my girlfriend's apartment the other night. She had nicest pussy..."

"Oh, come on, I'm talking about her cat! You people are sick!"

"That cat was the best fuck I've ever had..."

Love makes the world go 'round.

I love all my pets.

And for as much as I love cats, I also love dogs.

I like their style.

I did miss you.

Don't let it go to your head.

I would think that should be clear by now.

So, once, at work, I was listening to a conversation between my Director and a colleague of mine—and was wide eyed the whole time.

See, my brain works in two ways:

On the one hand, my mental Thesaurus of Innuendo is always at the ready.

On the other, I'm a visual thinker. If you describe something to me I will get an image at the very least, but usually it's a 3-D multi-sensory thing.

So my boss and this colleague were having a conversation about cats. Long-haired cats.

My colleague, a male, was complaining about how his cat's hair would get in his mouth.

My boss, a woman, was complaining about how her cat would sleep on her head.

You do the math.

I had to keep it to myself. No one else in the room seemed to be where I was at with this.

Also, I'm a g33k in IT. Technology is ripe with metaphorical innuendo.

Take networks for example:

You plug the long cable with the male jack on the end into the female port on the wall. Once this coupling has been made, you can broadcast data packets.

This is the sort of thing that goes on in my head all the time. I can't make it stop.

Don't ask about the incessant soundtrack in my head and my mental database of lyrics...

I'm the master of tangential thinking. Ex:

Purr leads to Kitten leads to... Mmmm... Pussy.

And kittens can be so insistent when they want something, rubbing themselves against you and all...

::blushes::

::kicks ground::

::gets erection::

::wonders if he thought that out loud::

It can get get tedious, but at its best Drum 'n Bass is very compelling.

Listening to Keltech. I think I got the file from epitonic.com or emusic.com...

Bass is sexier when you can feel it.

I just went poking around Blogshares looking for something sexy. I already link to the best ones.

I watched an episode of The Osbournes in which Kelly had expressed on many occasions her intense dislike of Christina Aguilera.

A lot of people think she's pretty trashy.

I understand what they see, and what it is supposed to mean.

But I'm more than a little contrarian.

I think her willingness to be as she is shows strength.

And I will admit that her brazenness is sexy as hell.

It's not like I know a damned thing about Christina Aguilera—But I'll be damned if I'm gonna say shit about a person on the basis of appearance.

Besides, I like it and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

You know, I've learned a lot while I've been blogging.

It's really cool to read other experiences. It's cool to see when I like the same things as other people. It's cool when I find people who think like I do. It's cool that people are willing to tell me that I'm being stupid—when I'm being stupid. It's cool to look at another person's experience to see what I might run into or need to avoid. Or maybe you've written about something I need to try—or want very badly to do...

But whether you know it or not, you have all helped me.

Thank you.

I just just minding my own business when I saw the voluptuous HR woman step out of an office on the floor above.

Pink knit top, v-neck, sleeveless, clingy in exactly the right way.

Alas, I looked away. It's not polite to stare.

For me, it's not red.

You will always slay me when you wear pink.

There was another waitress at the Thai restaurant yesterday, whom I had not seen before.

She is also Asian. And small of build.

As I tend toward the tall end of the male spectrum, I thought about the differences in our body mass and what that could mean...

In a purely physical, um, playfully sexual way.

I mean, the things a guy could do with a tiny thing like that... holder her aloft or upside-down... or just putting her where he wanted her at a given moment.

I guess it's a power thing.

But still, wouldn't it be fun to try?

It all comes back to sex.

May I also recommend Darking Nikki, by The Artist Formerly Denoted With an Unpronouncable Symbol:

I knew a girl named Nikki
I guess u could say she was a sex fiend
I met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine
She said how'd u like 2 waste some time
And I could not resist when I saw little Nikki grind
She took me 2 her castle
And I just couldn't believe my eyes
She had so many devices
Everything that money could buy
She said sign your name on the dotted line
The lights went out
And Nikki started 2 grind

Nikki

The castle started spinning
Or maybe it was my brain
I can't tell u what she did 2 me
But my body will never be the same
Her lovin' will kick your behind
Oh, she'll show u no mercy
But she'll sho'nuff sho'nuff show u how 2 grind

Darlin' Nikki

Woke up the next morning
Nikki wasn't there
I looked all over and all I found
Was a phone number on the stairs
It said thank u 4 a funky time
Call me up whenever u want 2 grind

Oh, Nikki, ohhhh

come back Nikki, come back
Your dirty little Prince
wanna grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind

"Hello, how r u? I'm fine. 'cause I know
that the Lord is coming soon, coming, coming soon."

"Sex, I'm a..."

Feel the fire, feel my love inside you it's so right
There's the sound and the smell of love in my mind
I'm a toy, come and play with me, say the word now
Wrap your legs around mine and ride me tonight

I'm a man - I'm a goddess
I'm a man - Well I'm a virgin
I'm a man - I'm a blue movie
I'm a man - I'm a bitch
I'm a man - I'm a geisha
I'm a man - I'm a little girl
And we make love together

Slip and slide in your wet delight, feel the blood flow
Not too fast, don't be slow, my love's in your hands

I'm a man - I'm a boy
I'm a man - Well I'm your mother
I'm a man - I'm a one night stand
I'm a man - Am I bi
I'm a man - I'm a slave
I'm a man - I'm a little girl
And we make love together

Skin to skin, tongue to oooh, come on honey hold tight
Come inside, it's a passion play just for you
Let's get lost in that magic place, all alone now
Drink your fill from my fountain of love, wet your lips

I'm a man - I'm a teaser
I'm a man - Well I'm a virgin
I'm a man - I'm a one night stand
I'm a man - I'm a drug
I'm a man - Well I'm your slave
I'm a man - I'm a dream divine
And we make love together
I'm a man - I'm a goddess
I'm a man - I'm a hooker
I'm a man - I'm a blue movie
I'm a man - I'm a slut
I'm a man - I'm a geisha
I'm a man - I'm your babe
I'm a man - I'm a dream divine
And we make love together
And we'll make love forever

Now Flock of Seagulls are up in the rotation.

They don't make music like that anymore. Shame.

I'm listening to Hyper Ballad.

I have loved Björk since Sugarcubes. Her voice.

I love how personal her lyrics are.

Life in the Fast Lane
Slow Ride
Love Hurts

That is all.

J. Geils Band:

Angel in Blue...

But then, "...soft, fuzzy sweaters too magical to touch..."

Yeah. No.

::shakes head::

If so much of what I do at work is masturbatory, why doesn't it feel better?

Blah blah blah

Rehash Rehash

Second-guess everything

Spend huge amounts of time considering the improbable

Speculate endlessly

Create sidebar meetings

Repeat as necessary

My blogroll isn't working from inside my workplace anymore. I suspect blockage.

I've grown dependent on mine.

How much of a geek am I to open a terminal services session to a machine in our firewall so that I can see my blogroll?

That's just wrong.

You know, I had never really considered an SUV before.

Hmmm.

And it's not so much that I would need 4-wheel drive, it's rather a question of what fits inside—even if it's a little tight.

What's more is that these are higher off the ground, lending a certain discretion...

Last night on the drive home, I eschewed my usual beat-driven music for the local bad-boy rock station.

Sometimes theres an itch that can only be scratched one way.

Alice in Chains.

White Zombie.

You know.

This interface works better. Thank you Blogger!

My birthday is in a month from today...

What do I get if I'm good?

What do I get if I'm bad?

Daddy's gonna take care of you.

You know the Thai waitress I've mentioned before?

Well today on her t-shirt, over her amplified chest, was a drawing of The Inn and Out Hotel.

She is workin' it.

I'm thinking she's a stripper in another life.

The mind boggles.

The new Blogger interface is nice looking. However I wish that the service hadn't been down so long...

It makes it look like I'm neglecting my blogging duties. And I assure you, I would not!

Yeah, the first day at work after two weeks off is not so fun.

First order of business is finding out how badly our project has apparently gone.

Second? Boss says sign a non-disclosure agreement.

I'll be 'briefed' around lunchtime.

[Queue ominous soundtrack]

It's good to be king:

"Black As My Soul"
I wanted to fuck her badly
she+wanted+to+fuck+him+so+badly
SOUL XXXX
fuck lithuanian girl
fuck off lithuanian girl

And of kissing them inside and out.

Warm and supple.

Holding your leg up firmly, I would kiss behind your knee.

So much the better if you're ticklish. It builds wonderful tension.

Down the back of your calf to the inside of your ankle.

Then I would lick the arch of your foot with as much of my tongue as possible. Nibble at the ball of your foot and stick my tongue between as many toes as you would let me.

But then, I would go right to your other foot.

You haven't been warmed up to that sensation on that leg so everything is amplified. Yes.

I would follow the reverse course. Do you see where this is leading?

Toes.

Arch.

Ankle.

Calf.

Behind your knee.

That thigh. I might mix in a nibble in the midst of the kisses.

Now, I will lick with the flat of my tongue from where I will find the deepest part of you... over the magic spot, and up...

Starting again pushing more firmly...

And again...

And again pushing your folds apart. Searching more with the tip of my tongue.

Mmm. And again.

And pushing my tongue all the way in. Swirling it around your entrance...

I replace my tongue with my fingers because my mouth is kissing, sucking, swirling, flicking on that part of you.

Kissing, sucking, swirling, flicking.

Fingers in and out.

Kissing

Sucking

Swirling

Flicking

Fingers in and out.

A little faster now.

Fingers pressing against the top as they move.

Sucking.

Swirling.

Tell me how bad you want it.

Swirling.

More.

Tell me how you want it.

Swirling harder.

Tell me.

Tell me.

It's yours.

Come.

Come.

Come.

All for you.

Come.

I worship you.

I live in mortal fear of anyone in my close circle of friends or at work finding out I write here.

One friend of mine knows I have a second anonymous blog, but that's all. One day he walked into my office and complimented the color scheme.

I only closed the window before turning to talk with him—I calculated that it was the only reaction I could have that didn't completely make him wonder what was on the screen. It could have been any non-business related site...

Fortunately I have not seen my employers proxy server address in my logs.

One of these days he's going to figure it out.

Touring Europe with the geriatric bunch was so not sexy.

Pardon me for expecting, I don't know, maybe a few other people my age...

There was no, and I mean no fun sexual tension.

I enjoyed a few who clearly wondered what it might be like...

Some did look at me like that. People really don't change.

Yeah... No.

Thoughts from the air, the sea, the road and the hotel room:

I've got half a mind to get you off right here in the cabin. Circling your little button with my finger, feeling your wetness, squeezing. I would watch your profile as you closed your eyes and your head went back against the seat. I would look into your eyes. I would never want you to stop coming.

The first thing I'm going to do is get caught up on what you've been up to.

Fuck! I can't wait!

I wondered about those for a while.

Huge.

"Um, yes, I would like some more vegetables..."

While it is completely distracting, please don't ever stop. Thank you.

It wasn't even that erotic listening to the couple next door having sex. Three times last night and once or twice this morning...

Observation:

British women, on the whole, are quite well endowed. I have seen more attractive large-chested women here in fewer days than I can't remember when. Capital!

Reminds me of church trips and retreats that I used to attend. Every time I went there was a girl who was a standout. Sometimes it was me silently wishing. Other times one of the cool girls dug me.

I remember the last three... K at camp, M at a retreat, L on that trip to Denver.

Oh yeah, and the lock in. The adults only guarded one door to the big room we were supposed to stay in.

I happened to know the way around the back. Yes. Yes I did. I led several people to freedom. We thought we were so clever. The cool thing is we were never caught.

So I'm sitting here next to these God-squad kids wondering who is groping whom as the cabin lights go down. Who is the couple everyone is talking about? Who is gonna join the mile-high club tonight?

Because some one is gonna get to know God, oh God, oh God!

Yeah, isn't it terrible that I would write that?

The first dress I looked up was in a Sunday school class. It was slit way, way up both sides. I mean really the opportunity presented itself. And I looked more than once, thank you very much.

Some of them were such good girls. And God bless the ones who weren't.

I loved them all.

I missed you!

More tomorrow...

I was hoping to be able to post this morning... Blogger hadn't cooperated for the last hour...

And I couldn't leave things on the basis of my last post alone—for I will be away for a bit.

All I was going to say is that I won't be thinking about any of the salacious things you have ever written to me.

Maybe I should never have let on about my sensitive nipples. Yeah, that shit goes straight to my cock. Be careful with that, would you?

I mean sensitive.

You know, so I can put two fingers in your pussy and one in your anus.

And I've still got my tongue free.

I'm super stoked about the fact that I will not be at work for the next 18 days.

I am not stoked about not being wired during that time.

I guess I'll have find something else to do.

Like using both hands instead of just one.

5:00 it is.

Anyhoo...

I got about 4 hours of sleep. I was going to get up at 8:00 but didn't get my ass moving until 9:20.

Showed up a half hour later than I said I would.

The good news is that I seem to have the stuff done that needed to be done.

Thank God!

I'm thinking maybe I can get out by 3:00.

I hope!

I'm sorry shit's a little off.

I forgot a dose of my meds again.

God damn it!

I know. You don't make me feel this way. It's what I believe about myself that makes me feel this way.

I just want to be clear that I know it's nothing you did or that you do. It's all me.

I think the most fundamentally fatal flaw in some mens' thinking is the "I-will-be-whatever-you-want-me-to-be-if-I-can-be-with-you" thing.

Because even if I've never seen you before—if we do that sort of "I-don't-want-you-to-see-me-watching-you-but-I-want-you-to-notice-me" social dance—for even like 30 seconds—I'm already trying to figure out what you see. And I'm worried about disappointing you. And I don't even know you.

That shit is wack.

Because the underlying assumption is "I'm not good enough."

I'm smart enough to not put on airs. I won't lie about my age, relationship status, age, weight or number of partners.

However, I freeze up because I want to not fuck it up. And that's the other problem. Because there the underlying assumption is "I'm gonna fuck it up again."

What I know for sure is that if I believe I will fuck it up, I will. Works every time.

And I know that when I believe I'm not good enough, there's no reason for you to think that I am. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'll go out of the way to show you how much I suck.

What may surprise you is that I now know for a fact that there are many ways in which I do not suck—and that I am in fact damn good at what I do.

I know I clean up well enough to turn heads. I turned yours.

And I also know that if you want to play, it's not on me.

And I know there are beautiful women everywhere.

And I'm horny.

And It's good to be alive.

But does anyone expect that the stuff that goes on in his head is anything like this?

I would really like to get off right now. There is just no right way to do that at work.

I have access to places that are extremely low traffic, but no exclusive access or ways to prevent anyone from happening on me.

Plus, I have no porn and I don't care to have those http requests associated with my IP address in the proxy server logs.

And that blows because we have an OC3 and and OC12.

Redundant. Never down.

As much as I hate to say it, my mind goes straight to physical contact with you.

Please, please turn off the personal magnetism.

Your electricity short-circuits my higher functions, such as they are.

I want to touch you, to feel you against me, to run my hands through your hair, to be close to those eyes.

Yeah, yeah I want you.

I feel you in my fucking chakras.

STOP IT!

Why do so many people do this search?

I gotta get a boatload of work done because I'm heading out of town for a while.

I have the excitement of the upcoming travel combined with the stress of the workload I've got.

My body is doing the best it can to deal, but I'm worried about getting sick...

I keep clicking on your links. While I'm at work.

And that keeps creating... issues.

But also, thank you.

You're an enigma wrapped in a mystery yourself...

—So I will not be taking my cock out of my pants unless you coax me.

I know I'm asking for trouble since the last time I said this somebody from South America posted about hating the USA, but I'm going to say it again.

Don't be shy.

Having just been to the boys' room, my thoughts naturally went to the depiction of urination in pornography.

While a photo of a sexy woman urinating is interesting from an anatomical perspective—boys like to know how things work—I do not find it erotic.

I am willing to consider that someone could make it erotic for me, but I wouldn't seek it or ask to see it.

Interestingly, a woman did ask me once if she could hold my penis while I urinated. But I didn't perceive that as any more than satisfying curiosity.

But I guess, one-sided or not, if you want to witness masturbation of any kind then you're in the right place.

I suspect that a man announcing that he is not wearing underwear has the opposite effect on women than the effect a woman announcing she was not wearing underwear would have on a man.

My opinion, because I love to assign meaning to apparently unrelated phenomena, is that the author of said stories is the author of said blog.

Which I find intensely fascinating.

In addition, I noticed the use of a certain one-syllable descriptive word which I have always found dicey—and have chosen not to utter that word in the presence of women, and really not at all. Do I relax a little or is that still a faux-pas? I mean, when you're talking dirty... I suppose it's different from person to person.

The thing about blogging is that it's very one sided.

I write when I think about you. And then?

I write when I think about you.

I don't know if you think about me.

And there's Kylie's love song to make me vapid and horny again.

See? I'm grinning.

Love at first sight.

As a very vain boy, there is nothing better than waking to that song.

Not unless you woke me.

You can make me stir.

Yep.

Stirring.

Stir me.

Do you know, the simplest decisions can have the most profound implications?

Do you know how profoundly your attitude about yourself affects your life?

I mean, I realize this might be a bulletin from The Department of the Obvious...

But I spent some time looking at things I want to change in my life. And I wrote what it would benefit me to make the change. And I wrote the consequences of not making the change. I was shocked how much value I had placed on really simple actions and shocked at how poorly I viewed myself as a result of inaction. It was incredible. Take the fact that I want to get eight hours of sleep a night (I usually deprive myself of sleep because I refuse to leave the keyboard and mouse). What are the real consequences of facing the world having fully rested? The ripple goes everywhere—I mean there's almost nothing in my life that would not be positively affected. Just getting enough sleep.

But at the moment I need to think about the consequences of getting my work done quickly and going home.

The more vapid I become.

Silent Vapidity.

That's what it is.

Seriously. Go check.

No. Yes. No.

I think I'm kidding.

I had this really profound thought on they way back to work from the doctor's office...

But I can't remember what it was that I thought.

I mean, I was proud that I came up with the realization at all.

I hate it when that happens!

I want to keep playing...

But I don't ever get to the point where I'm being cruel or manipulative.

Or is it just cruel and manipulative to begin with?

Funny how getting issues out in the open makes them much less of a monster.

That's what I get for reading sexy blogs at work...

Yeah... I'm not gonna get much done today.

Soulless just wants to be nasty today.

Coy.

Perfect.

Besides. You're not the only hottie here.