May 032010

Every once in a while I chat/email with someone and the “click” is there immediately. I wish I could produce the formula that equates to this click, but I don’t really know. It was like that with R, too, except that I had the pleasure of knowing a little about him before he even emailed me. Yet still, R took my bait and we chatted and we never shut up. It was kinda like that with this mysterious J (that’s all he called himself). He emailed me to pay a few compliments about the blog and there was just something there, something in his words. What he said, what he didn’t say, how he said it and his “voice”.

We  both recognized the click and the too-easy banter and the immediate intellectual attraction as being dangerous. Dangerous with the chance of addictive.

And so….at the end of that day full of flying emails, we said goodbye. He gave in briefly once more via my chat box but that was it. Today, nearly 4 months later, I tried to contact him only to find that the email address he’d been using was now closed.

Maybe he was just a ghost?

A figment of my imagination?

An entity capable of communicating through the wires and currents but not of being real?

Pity. I could have used a little more J right now.

Jul 122009

There’s this guy who works in my office, one row over, and I think he might have a little thing for me. I’m not sure just how young he is, he’s old enough to be working there permanently and at something one step up from entry level but he has a baby face.

My job went from being a relaxed administrative assistant to a grumpy clerk who basically does glorified data entry most of the day. Type up a list of numbers, then head back to the printer for all the sheets that the program printed out that I have to then merge with the correct invoices. So, I print a lot. Frequently. Sometimes large batches.

Sadly, I don’t have my own printer. At the back end of every other row is a printer. This guy doesn’t work in my aisle, he’s on the other side (our “adjoining wall” sides are a little over 5 feet high, the cube separating walls are a little over 4.5 feet high) but he uses the same printer as I do. It’s a given that most times, someone else’s stuff is mixed in with mine. For some reason he’s not real adept at finding his stuff, and I’ve got the method down pat and can flip through the stack in mere seconds. He’s taken to occasionally teasing me that I purposely print out a batch of shit right when he prints out one page. And even though I couldn’t possibly know, lol, we end up back there at the same time frequently.

When I walk by his row or he’s in mine, I catch him staring at me.

The other week, as he walked in the thru-way aisle that’s just in front of my cube, I stopped him.

“Hey M, did they put more toner in yet?”

He looked down at me over the shorter partition and fumbled for his words. Pretty much, no, they hadn’t.

Then I realized the view he just had.

Poor kid.


Jul 052009

I wasn’t there to meet him, or any guy really. Just meeting a girlfriend for drinks and gossip and sex talk. It might have been the “sex talk” part that got me into trouble. Her and I sat there and chatted over drinks for at least an hour. Our little table was quite close to the bar, so I gather the guys seated there might have caught some interesting little tidbits.

I knew one or two were staring at me occasionally, but I wouldn’t acknowledge them. I did make sure that my cleavage spilling out of the neckline to my cute top was ample; I’m sure my tongue and lips idly played with the straws from my drinks.

After three drinks, I really had to pee. As typical of most semi-crappy bars, the restrooms are stuck in a dark hallway. It was here that he cornered me after I exited the restroom. His rapid advancements and innuendo-laden small talk walked the line of being highly inappropriate. Lucky for him I was interested in what I saw in front of me. I told him “maybe later” because I had to get back to my waiting friend. But a quick peace-offering kiss with an invitation attached turned in a split second to something more present and more dangerous. Dangerous because I was groping and kissing a stranger in the dark hallway of a bar in full view of a handful of bar patrons who occupied nearby tables.

In the span of about a minute, my hand was grasping his hard cock through his khaki shorts. One of his hands had dipped down the front of my shirt and under my bra. Simultaneously his fingers found my nipple and his lips found that spot on my neck. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of near-overwhelming pleasure and amid the blasphemous prayers I whispered “harder”.

I don’t know what I meant for him to do harder – pinch my nipple or bite my neck. I think he did both and I think I moaned aloud. His lips grazed my flushed skin to my breast and then were wrapped forcefully around the same nipple he had been pinching. I slowly opened my eyes as I realized what this meant. My entire breast was exposed. And two men at the closest table were unabashedly watching us. I locked eyes with one of them as I put both hands on mystery guy’s chest and eased him off of me. I watched the voyeur’s eyes drop lower to take in the unobstructed sight of my bared breast. I paused a beat before bring my bra and clothes back where they belonged. I again reiterated “maybe later” to the one I had just been groping as I did my best to walk gracefully back to the table where my girlfriend was waiting on me.

It’s hard to walk gracefully when your cunt is wet and throbbing, your nipple still stings from his teeth and the rush of lust has made you lightheaded.

Feb 152009

Talk, talk and more talk. Pretty words, sexy words, dirty words.

I told him

“Enough already.”

Put up or shut up, boy.

I need some skin on skin, lip to lip contact.

“Come here. Come to my door.”

I said

“It’s after midnight and we can hide in the shadows that fall on the side of my building.

Flash your headlights and I’ll see you pull up

I’ll come out my door and duck around the corner.

You don’t have to use any more words, just kiss me

My back up against the cold brick wall

Cold hard against my back, warm hard against my front

But you have to go now.

You have to come here now.”

And he did.

Disregard for the windows of the other apartment facing my brick wall

Disregard for anybody passing by on the street

My leg snaked around his thigh, pulling him to me

His hands under my shirt, groping twisting pinching like a high school boy

After 10 minutes of hard kissing, of grinding my pubic bone against his bulge

After 10 minutes of gasping and whimpers and almosts

I sent him back home.

All I needed was a little kiss.

“I’ll let you know when I need another fix.”

Nov 292008
Well folks I am not going to be getting the promotion, I will not be moving to the other office. Due to the current hiring freeze and the merging of all similar offices in 6 months, HR put the kibotz on that higher position being filled since it was vacated by my now-supervisor. So no extra money. No change in scenery.
I worry about the merger because I can’t say for sure that I’ll get to keep my internet access privileges. I’ll have to find another route, something I can afford, when the time comes. I have quite a few “friendships” that are online only, and only during the workday. Some are casual and a select few are very meaningful to me. If I weren’t able to chat during the workday I think I would lose those people. And for SURE I would be bored to death. I’ve grown terribly accustomed to this “way of life” in the past 6 months.
I am to the point where, no matter what, when I find out I’ll be in that downstairs office all alone for awhile I make it a point to take advantage of the fact. So determined that despite my 3 regular guys being AWOL (One left work early for T-day preparations, S has been in hiding lately and I’m not sure he’s coming back out, and the new guy who’s delighting in bringing out my Toppy side apparently had an impromptu office meeting), I pulled out my bullet anyways and thanks to a few of my Twitter guys, I got off quite nicely. I also took things a little farther than before. The bombardment of arousal from numerous angles left me with a need for penetration. I looked around, I thought….my eyes alighted on the half-empty Coke Zero bottle. 30 seconds later I decided to lock the glass door as it was the day before Thanksgiving, everyone was leaving early and I had plausible deniability if anyone tried to get in (damn door, I can never figure out that weird lock!). After a few brief moments of dropped pants and Coke Bottle attempts, I realized that someone could glance in and see my bare ass. So I moved in to my supervisor’s office…heh heh. Her lights off but the office lights meant that I was still barely visible should anyone look in her huge windows. The moment I inserted (some, couldn’t handle most of it) the bottle, and applied the bullet again to my clit, my orgasm began. I think this means that I need a slightly bigger case for my bag so that I can bring my wooden dildo with me along with the bullet.
Shame to waste nearly half a bottle of coke, but I wasn’t in the mood for a creamy Coke ;) The bottle was a bit of a mess, especially under that ridge for the cap.
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How To Make Lilly Blush:  A little like when S first floored me when he pointedly said in the comments of one of his posts that I was the cause of his recent highly-aroused state and subsequent amazing release, someone else caught me quite off-guard today by including me (me?) in his “hit it” list of sexy blogger ladies. I am the one of the four that he has met in person (at the party) and still I’m on that list.
Sometimes flattery will get you far ;)
If I were to make a list of blogger men on my own similar list…..well, I couldn’t narrow it down to just four, lol, but I think he might find he has a spot on my list, as well.
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You all rock, you know that? I got amazing support and “you tell him sister!” comments on my post about the Craigslist douchebag. It took him a few days, presumably took that long to write this all out and think it up, but he responded. I knew he would. Again, I present this to you in all its unedited glory:
well im glad u didnt respond to me cause i can see ur a very kind woman too..and yes i am a very nice man i just know how to find out who the nice women are and who is the jerks on here too so yes i am learning how this thing works on here thank you very much..and maybe some people have responded to u ok thats fine big it just seemed to me like you were being picky and im only sayin that cause you said in ur ad about looking for good lookin guys well i can see that but if u want that you should be able to give them somethin nice too not trying to be mean and didnt mean any offense and i am sorry..i was just stating a point..maybe i took ur ad the wrong way then
He can have his last words, I really cannot bear to drag out this conversation, risk hearing more drivel from him again. Nor do I give a shit. He doesn’t register on my radar anymore. But it does jade me against Pennsylvania men, in general. He’s not uncommon here I’m afraid.

Also, my CL ad was flagged and deleted, oddly enough, the day I posted about this guy. I doubt the timing is related. But still…..

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

I’ve got more toy reviews for the future than I know what to do with….but I have to say, I feel bad for the other dildos. Really. Unless it’s a suction-cup dildo or an oversized one, it’s not going to have a place in my bag. I have found my Holy Grail and there is no besting it. Just not gonna happen. So from now on I’m not going to review any more dildos that are not suction-cup or oversized. I received a very pretty Glass one to review and I feel bad that I can’t really love it, because Mr. Pure has stolen my heart. He’s ruined me for all others.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~
I have become afraid of speaking too soon regarding men, but I really do have to just mention this – there is someone new who is really dragging out the “toppy” side of me and I’m liking it more and more. He inspired this post, and if things go well, you’ll be reading more about the situation.
Also, to any of the women who read my blog who have experience topping…please email me. I need to pick a few brains about a couple of topics.
Oct 022008

You all know I’ve put up craigslist ads. I’ve got a profile over on Okcupid, and another spot. *sigh* I mean, do some of these guys truly think they have game? Are they looking over their message before clicking send and thinking “yeah, I got this one in the bag”?

First, let’s be positive and look at the ones that get a response from me (which is only about 15% of the time it seems, because I’m picky and want something rare – personality and the ability to type)

Subject: you had me at provincial french cooking
“seriously, hard hard messy foodgasm. mmmmm…
hi, i’m —- and in lust with you and your profile. so, yeah.”

There’s more, it’s all cute and witty and complimentary and made me smile.But I won’t post the whole thing, it would bore you I’m sure.


“A. You are incredibly gorgeous. No, really. You have no idea.
2. I wish you were not 612 miles away.
iii. I HATE textspeak in email. I have 2 friends that do this on a regular basis, and they are both advisors at colleges. How some can work in education and make themselves sound that unintelligent is beyond me.”

He did the “A” “2” thing, and I didn’t do that anywhere in my profile. But I tend to do that frequently, especially when speaking. Freaky. And it shows he actually read all the way down to the bottom of my profile.

There have been a few more, who weren’t the wittiest right off the bat but had a photo that caught my eye and they seemed “real”, had a personality. But they baffle me. We email back and forth, things are going very well and sparks are flying….photos are being well received to say the least…I show him the blog. Conversation finally takes the proper turn, and they really like what they see and read. But then, conversation dies off within a week. When it comes time to say “Hey we’re both interested, let’s meet”, nothing happens. It’s more complicated than that, but that’s the Readers Digest version. Why contact a local person, why answer their “FWB” ad on CL, why go through the trouble of a week of sexy conversation just to chicken out of meeting? I’m very disappointed in a few guys right now, and kicking their chicken asses to the curb I think.

Fails – I will (almost) never respond back to the fails. Most, to be honest, are things like “hey ur hott, lets fuck” or some shit. *sigh* But then you really get to see some fucktards.

Hey are you really real. I’ve already sent an e-mail and the only thing I got back were clubs to join up to (Not interested) If your real I guess I receive legitimate e-mail back. I cant assume so I have to ask are you 21 or older if not the buck stops here. I have no interest in messing with a kids mind.”

Now, I have to interrupt here. In my CL ad I made a point of saying “Hey, I’m real! Come on, what spam bot is gonna post on CL as a BBW??” AND I posted pics, casual things. If you have half a braincell you can look at the fake ads, and then mine, and know I’m not selling a website. So, I had to bite here. After all he had complied and sent a photo of himself.

Me: Come on, did my ad really look like that of a spammer? Really now, I tried very hard to assure you men that I am real. Is there a secret boys-only-club password I should have known? A handshake? A grunt? Hmmm hard to portray the handshake/grunt via text…..

His reply: Ok all seems well, Send me another Picture of yourself.


um, no

His reply: What you didn’t like the picture.

I’m copying here word for word people. Lack of punctuation and all. I went on and actually told him, bluntly, what all pissed me off. To his credit, he came back with a more thought-out email, punctuation, and showed a general ability to think like a homosapiens. But it was too late.

“r u into piss”

That’s usually not a good thing to start off with, unless this is Collarme or something.


I get this after I ignored 2 of his messages, telling me to check out his (empty) profile.

“Subject: BBW are you one?”

Fucktard, R u 1?

Perhaps I should just stick to my blogger boys. At the least I know you have great personality, know how to type, and share similar interests. Unfortunately most of you are way the hell on the other coast.

A bonus photo (that I wasn’t going to post)  just because you guys aren’t fucktards. At least most of the time you’re not ;)  heheheheee