Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Look into my eyes not my tits.

Ok so while at lunch I had an interesting conversation with my guy friends. It was the typical male conversation about how women dress. Except this time I was actually agreeing with them. I wouldn't normally but something in me has changed a bit.

So the gist is this: they say that when a woman with nice breasts wears low cut shirts, it's pretty much impossible not to look. And women get angry that men keep staring at their tits instead of staring at their faces when they speak.

I had a recent experience of one of the students who came to our school. She was an over 50yr old Danish woman with a nice figure and wore push up bras and super low cut shirts. And I mean those square neckline shirts where your tits are just falling out type shirts. You know, the barmaid look. The whole week while doing lessons with these students, I couldn't look the woman in the face. I tried to look her in the eyes while speaking with her, but it was literally impossible! My eyes kept falling to her chest!

What's wrong with me?? I'm a woman, I should't be staring at tits! Is the fact that mine are small an excuse?

In any case I could totally understand what my guy friends were saying. And all I wanted to was defend women by saying that they had to just TRY but I realised that it truly is impossible, or perhaps not impossible but very difficult.

They also said that they thought women dressed to attract attention sometimes. I have done it... it's true... but women sustain that it's not true and that men shouldn't stare.

I honestly don't know who's right and who's wrong.

Monday, August 30, 2010

My day, Rob and other ramblings

I had an interesting day today. I went to work thinking I'd only be doing the morning. I dressed accordingly. I was wrong though, I ended up working afternoon too. On Monday mornings I just go to a relatively clean studio and I play the part of the professional interpreter for the morning. In the afternoon, I sometimes go to a dusty messy studio and play the part of the jeans n' T artist. So this morning thinking I'd be just playing interpreter I went dressed up. I wore a black figure fitting cotton dress that is above the knee length and tends to be off the shoulder. I wore kitty heel black patent sandals, grey leggings and a wide elastic belt worn high, over my ribs.

Check the middle picture, something like that anyhow...

NOT ME! lol

So yeah I was decked out hair up with a shiny black headband. I don't normally go to work like that unless I'm teaching, (I don't get too dirty while I'm teaching). 

When I go to lunch I eat with a group of about 10 people, not everyone is there every day. But this group includes my cute colleague and other men, among which a gay man and some other men in their late 40s early 50s. One guy, a good friend of mine, who would never think of really truly flirting with me got all hot and bothered around me today. He actually bit me on my neck. He asked me what kinds of words I say during "those moments", whether I spoke in Italian or in English. He told me that having my bra strap visible was a turn on... it was over the top for him... with me that is. Good thing I'm not terribly attracted to him. 

Then my cute colleague told my boss that she shouldn't let her personnel "dress like that".  He also told me that he'd like to bite me, and I almost answered... "go on bite me", I had to bite my own tongue to keep myself from saying something. Oh man. Hormone overload today.

Under the shower today I had a moment of almost melting at some of those thoughts but I gathered myself without ado and finished my shower.


On a separate note I talked to Rob the other afternoon. I told everyone that I was doing my translation and I hid in the bedroom for a few hours. He came online and without video, or rather with just my vid on occasionally we chatted. I got some stuff off my chest about family and anxieties and stuff, it was good. He made me feel so good, and there was nothing sexual in the chat, it was nice. Really, really nice. 

I asked him to tell me a story. He told me this wonderful story. It was really cool. I can't describe it really, but I'll try to write it up and post it here at some point soon. All I can say is that I was mesmerised. I just sat staring at the screen waiting for the next sentence. It was so descriptive that I could smell the smells, I could imagine everything he was saying, and feel the sensations of the sun or wind on my skin. It was just a description of an afternoon. When I talk to him I spend the whole next day thinking about him. 


Things with the family are getting more intense. Bf's brother was doing very well up till now. The chemo caused a kind of inflammation of the mouth, oesophagus, and intestine. They say it's normal, or within the norm. He can't talk, eat or drink though and they gave him a morphine patch. The wife showed up here yesterday in tears. The only one who went to comfort her, (and bf's mother and sister were both there), was me. I gave her a hug and led her to the couch where she sat with me and cried. Then the sister came over and started crying too. 
This brother who's in hospital has two kids, the son is the (ex?)drug dealer kid. The daughter is a sweet 14 yr old who is staying with us at the moment. So I've got bf's mother and niece in the little bedroom on bunk beds and his sister is on the couch. This means less privacy than before. No watching tv late, no late internet, NO FREE TIME AT ALL unless I manage to lock myself in the bedroom to do my translation. At which point I generally want to work on the translation and I don't do much else. 

The 14yr old has latched on to me. I love her, she's a wonderful kid. But she feels abandoned by her parents, especially her mother who is working tons and spending her free time at the hospital (of course).  I think the girl is seriously afraid for her father, but she shows no emotion whatsoever. I'm worried about her. I try to spend time with her when I can. 

Too many ramblings. Next post will be shorter, promise!

Friday, August 27, 2010

Staring during sex.

So bf and I had sex as soon as we got home on last Friday night. It was strange. I wasn't really that turned on. I think I was feeling a bit funny in the tummy. But I enjoyed the sex nonetheless.

The fact that I wasn't that turned on, and that my body was functioning on its own by producing enough lubrication to have sex 100 times, made it strange. I was oddly alert, I usually blank out from the overwhelming sensations. But I stayed on top, propped up on one arm, lifting my hips enough so that bf could move on his own under me, and he just fucked me however he wanted, whatever speed, however hard. All I did was watch him, with my eyes wide open. I never do that. I'll take peeks, look, sure and watch, but not STARE like I did that night. I stared straight at his face, if his eyes were open I'd stare into them.
He must have loved it. He smiled at me, he made all sorts of faces, he even spoke to me. Which he rarely does except for the ending phrase "I'm gonna cum". This time he asked me if it was ok that he play with my ass. I nodded and smiled. He always plays with my ass, he has never asked.

The other thing that distinguished this experience from the others was the fact that I was pretty bored with what was going on, it was all too normal. I wanted something else, something different, something new. I should have said so, I tried to say something like "get a move on", but it wasn't enough. I'll have to be more direct next time.

He pulled my hair a little which was a first. And when I got bored enough I made him get up and fuck me doggy style, with my shoulders and head planted on the bed. I stimulated my clit and I could feel him getting bigger and pulsing inside me. As he was pulling out, I came. It wasn't a massive overwhelming orgasm. It was shorter, probably because he had pulled out and the internal stimulation was gone.

The next morning he was at the hospital, I was home in bed, bf's mother in the other room, and I was horny as hell. I got myself off. I had to think of some random situation of being fucked from behind, no one in particular was involved, just hands groping and a cock inside me. It was fast and again not overwhelming, but better than the night before enough to satisfy me.

That afternoon we had a moment of time on the bed alone, I was on top of him, just laying there, and we started talking. He said that there were so many times while we were having sex that he would have wanted to say "I love you" but he never got up the courage. He also said "you'd have never thought of doing that, right?" but it was a half joke. I didn't answer. I just smiled and laughed it off.
Then he said that he had been thinking that if on the off and very odd chance I got pregnant, he wouldn't ask me to abort. Those were his words. Strange eh? hmm anyhow he said that it would be a boy, and I refused. I have always known I'd never give birth to a boy. But we giggled about that.

In hindsight the conversation was strange. Between the comment about me not saying I love you, and the abortion thing, it was odd. I was happy about the comments in general. But writing them here make me think they're strange. Perhaps it is the English translation that screws with me, perhaps it's the tone of voice. Who knows.

Thursday, August 26, 2010


As promised this week I have a new click thru HNT 

I haven't been able to get on line to check up on blogs much recently, but I'll do my rounds soon.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Things change fast

So I'm sitting at home with Bf's mother across from me. It's getting dark and I just finished rewording stuff for the English version of a website.

The family has been hectic. I'm not as happy as I usually am with them around. It probably has to do with so much time spent with them already. 10 days down south and now another week. I don't have any space of my own, no privacy at all. I had to take my laptop into the bedroom today to get the pseudo translation done and while I was at it I took the opportunity to very quickly get myself off, I haven't had an orgasm since the "bad sex" while on holiday down south. For someone who has 3 or 4 of my own creation on a normal day, that's a long time without.

The family has been falling apart around us, total chaos has taken over. I'll recap the situation quickly.

Brother 1 is in hospital with a bone marrow cancer, he is doing a stem cell transplant and all is going spectacularly well so far. His son is a drug dealer and was kicked out of the house this spring, but came home shortly after and bf helped him find a job (I wrote his CV) and he seems to be behaving himself, he even went to see his father in hospital. Younger 14 yr old daughter is staying with a friend until her father is more stable.

Brother 2 is separated from his wife, left for a much younger (35 yr old) Romanian woman. When he left his wife she became anorexic and depressed and was sent to hospital. They (the brother and three daughters) found her an apartment and she went to live there where she became more depressed and anorexic once again. The oldest daughter went to live on her own and in the meantime the other two daughters, one 19yrs old and one 15 had an argument with dad and neo-girlfriend and ran off to their sister's place. Mother got sent back to hospital and when she got out the apartment was pulled out from under her feet because she wasn't paying rent. She went to stay with the eldest daughter.
4 people in the same tiny apartment, all is being paid by the oldest daughter who is 22, rent, gas for the car, food, cigarettes, her own teeth (braces). She's working two jobs.
The middle girl (the brightest) graduated from high school without even a phone call from her dad or her mum for that matter. She can't figure out whether to go to University or to go to work to help her sister cope (we're trying to figure out how to convince her to go to Uni). The youngest will be back at high school in mid September, we're still trying to figure out where they're going to get money for the books.

I can remember when I met bf, he had such a great family, two happy brothers with wives and kids. now it's just a total mess. Just a year ago things were fine.

We're trying to be mediators whenever we can, but it takes a toll on energy levels.

I'll have an HNT pic up for tomorrow. I have the day off work, I have to work on a translation so I'll be able to take time to myself.

I want to get back to my regular life!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

The strange evening.

Where to start where to start? There are so many things I'd ramble on about if I had more time, but I don't so I'll start with the strange evening. I have to do a bit of back tracking to set the scene though, so bear with me here.

Bf has a lot of friends in his home town, most of them live abroad or north as I mentioned before. Two good friends still live in this TINY town. One is a lawyer and the other has a small company. Let's call these two the Locals. They're the stars of the story.

The locals were quite secretive when we got to town, they didn't do the usual call and meet up with bf when we got in. We later found out that they'd been hanging out with two foreign girls, one Russian and one Romanian (these two races are not considered very highly here, that has nothing to do with my opinion but more the general public opinion. I have to set the feeling around these women).

According to a friend of theirs, they were both worried that the other outsider friends would make fun of them because they'd been spending a lot of money on these girls. Between dinners and drinks drinks they were spending in and around 500 euros for an evening. (doesn't sound like much but down there its TONS. Consider a beer is 1 euro)

One evening we decided to corner the group, lawyer, small company guy and the two girls, and get them to tell us where they were going. It was bf myself and another accountant friend who lives in Milan. First we went to a disco. And this was the first place I saw the two women.

One was super tall wearing extremely high heels, a white tube dress with a zipper up the front (which was unzipped to show her bra), the dress just barely covered her ass. A round and to me slightly tired face, but young looking. Too much eye makeup and frizzy fried platinum blond hair layered to her shoulders.

The other girl was short, with longer golden thin straight hair, a really ruined face with WAY too much black eye makeup. She had a round belly (almost as if she were a few months pregnant) poorly hidden under a red tube dress. The red tube dress didn't even cover her ass most of the time, nor her black bra. 

We had a few drinks there, the girls were never introduced to me or bf, and they kept their distance. They danced by themselves in the middle of the room with the bar (where no one else was dancing). Then the girl in the red dressed moved towards the bar where there was the lawyer boy and another guy. This guy (I have NO idea who he was, as far as I could tell he had nothing to do with our group) had his hands all over this chick. I mean ALL OVER, mostly her ass. Groping her and she turned around to grind her ass on his crotch.... man oh man... With the Lawyer boy standing right there watching and touching her as well.

Then we moved to another place. I got tipsy at this point and went to dance on my own. I didn't want anything to do with these girls. They seemed like (and I was told they were probably) prostitutes. The tall white dressed girl danced most of the evening by the DJ alone as if she were strip teasing or pole dancing without a pole. She was pulled aside by different guys during the evening including the accountant who she evidently didn't want to deal with. The shorter, red dressed girl was all over guys all over the place.

When I came up from the dance floor (where I danced alone since bf doesn't dance, and where I was hit up by a few guys), the red dress girl was cornered between three guys including the bf's friend the lawyer boy. When I say cornered I mean all three guys had their crotches touching this chick. They were all groping, no kissing, just a lot of hands everywhere.

I've never seen anything like it in person. I don't even know what to think. I can't be sure they are prostitutes. I can't judge them because in a foreign country in a place where I don't know anyone I may even do the same. Although I can say one thing, it was super sleazy I mean slimy sleazy (this is my personal opinion). I couldn't quite grasp what it was, perhaps the fact they were dressed so provocatively, perhaps the overuse of the eyeliner pencil or perhaps their behaviour but they were pretty nasty.

My other personal opinion was that being "embarrassed about the quantity of money spent" was a joke. The real reason they didn't want anyone around is because they were organising threesomes or gangbangs with these girls. I mean I don't know, but is it normal for a girl to be cornered like that between three guys if she's not organising to fuck them all??

Right so that's the story. Well most of it. The story ends that I get into an argument with bf because he let his VERY drunk accountant friend drive us home. He almost drove us into a wall then into a pole... we ended up, luckily, driving onto the sidewalk (a foot high), and narrowly missing the wall.

Me dancing, bf took the pic.
I got home at 5:30am and had a relatively nice evening dancing on my own. Nothing much to say there.

**On a side note I took the pictures of the red dressed girl with the accountant and cropped him out. I won't leave this image up for long. The white dress girl pic was taken by accident, she was in the background of another picture, and again for privacy I won't leave her up long either. I highly, highly doubt anyone I know from this part of the world or theirs will be reading this and will recognise them. But I do respect them enough to take them down in a week.**

Thursday, August 19, 2010


I've been meaning to write a post about a strange evening here. I haven't had time to breath here at all. Bf wouldn't let me use the computer here, he kept saying I had to keep his mother company... I had to wake up at 8 o'clock today to get this pic up. There's no click-thru this week but I'll make up for it next week. Today we're heading back home. I'm glad to be going home. I'm tired of this place. If it didn't have a beach I'd have gone crazy. Only problem now is that bf's brother is in hospital for heavy chemo and a stem cell transplant so bf's mother and sister are coming back up north with us. I will have very little time again because I'll be working next week too. Here's to hoping I'll manage.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Italy and the South

There are a few things I wouldn't mind getting off my chest. One is the mentality here. Now I know it's male oriented, mothers look after their sons until they're in their 50s or until they get married. But here I am with bf at his mother's house and we take showers, we put our towels out to dry, along with our bathing suits and such after being at the beach. The morning after, the woman (mom) takes EVERYTHING off the line EXCEPT my stuff... now what's up with that? I don't get it. Why would you NOT take everything off and just leave it at that? Now at my house, if they've put something out to dry, I bring it in. I don't just leave it out there just because it's not mine.
Hunh... anyhow...

Then there's the fact that everyone here is HUGE... ok so maybe not HUGE but all the women here are overweight. Everyone except BF's sister. She's super thin, thinner than me. And I'm pretty darned thin. But all of the neighbours keep asking BF's mother if I eat. I mean what's it to them if I eat or not? This small, no I correct myself, "TINY town mentality" is killer. I could never live here. Everyone talks about everyone else. The rumours that run around here are insane. I could tell so many stories about the rumours in these towns. The town I live in is small enough, being here is 100 times worse.

All of the people who used to live here immigrated outside of Italy, mostly to Germany or France. Some emigrated north, but everyone moved for work. There was nothing but fishing or olive farming to do here. So they moved. Bf was one of them. But why couldn't they have moved to Germany or France? I wouldn't be in the situation that I am. I'd probably have a house of my own by now and a decent paying job. (If I'd met bf that is). Ahh I'm just whining and being difficult, but these things do run through my mind.

In any case, while here I've thought of moving back to Canada and taking bf with me to see if he'd survive the culture shock as well as I did. Mostly because I think that there are better job opportunities and better money. It's something to think about.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Beach, Sun and Fun... oh and some sex

So yeah, I've been on holiday now since Tuesday. We left at 2 am on Tuesday from home and drove all night and part of the morning to get south to visit bf's mom and sis. At the moment there 's a cold torrential downpour in the north. Here on the other hand  must be in and around 35 degrees today. But I've been spending every day at the beach so it's ok.
Life with bf's mom and sis isn't bad, although I couldn't handle it for long. It's simply: eat, beach, eat, wash dishes, beach, eat wash dishes, go out for a walk and maybe a drink, sleep and repeat.
They're coming up north with us when we go home on Thursday, so it doesn't end here although I'll be working from the 23rd so I'll have something to keep me busy. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to post tons over the next week, but I'll try to get something up. I do have some more HNT pics so if nothing else, I've got that for Thursday.

Bf annoyed the shit out of me yesterday, it was probably that I was in a pissy mood but honestly I didn't want to deal with him. Luckily we go out with his friends and I end up having a good laugh.

He tried to initiate sex the other night, and he was just getting it ALL wrong. How is it possible that there are times when he can get it so right and others where he just can't even find my clit??? ugh. I had to take thing into my own hands, and managed to turn myself on enough to fuck him. the orgasm was good because he wanted to keep me quiet and he pushed his thumb in my mouth while I was cumming, it was just what I needed.

Thursday, August 12, 2010



*on a side note, I didn't actually use a scarf like in the story, since I don't know what this thing is called I decided to simplify things with a scarf. Oh and if you haven't read the story.... read it here.*

Wednesday, August 11, 2010


**This is a story inspired by a recent experience alone, (if you know what I mean). I was taking tomorrow's HNT pic and this is part of the result. I just wish there had been a man involved.**

Her hands were tied tightly behind her back. His invention was ingenious. The long silk scarf went under her shoulder blades, over her breasts covering them, crossing at the neck, a half an overhand knot behind her neck to join the two halves and then down the length of her back to her wrists just at her tail bone. The more she struggled the tighter it became around her neck.  It was a contradiction, but she was forced to relax, even if she was tied up. Being tied up turned her on and she squirmed on the bed to get some release, it was a vicious cycle though because it just tightened the scarf around her neck more.

Her legs were neatly tied at the ankles, leaving little or no space between them. He had asked her to wear her strappy black sandals with a 5 inch heel and to tie her hair up in a high and very tight ponytail. 

He sat her on the edge of the bed facing him. He sat in the armchair across from her and watched her. He loved to watch her squirm. She could barely sit still. She wanted him so badly she was tempted to stand up and try to walk towards him, but she knew better. She'd end up falling onto her knees. Then again, maybe that's what he wanted. 

He sat and watched her. contemplating what to do, there were so many options.

He ordered her to lay tummy down on the bed.

To do so she toppled over onto her side, raised her knees onto the bed to push herself on better and then rolled onto her tummy. She was laying parallel to him, she could see him, and he could see her whole body.

"Can you touch your pussy with your hands from behind?" he asked her

She could. With a slight strain, the scarf tightened but she could reach her wet pussy. If she lifted her hips she could even touch her clit.

"I want to watch you make yourself cum like that" he told her quietly.

She wasn't sure she'd be able to manage, she was definitely turned on, but with her hands behind her back she wasn't sure she'd be able to put enough pressure on her clit to get off.

"Go on", he encouraged her. "Try".

She slid her fingers into her slick pussy slowly. Feeling how wet she was, it made her moan in pleasure. Her other hand was tied to the same spot, she could only rotate their position. She could slide fingers in from both hands and she did. It filled her better, she couldn't get in terribly deep, but it was enough. She started to move her hips, getting some rhythm. Arching her back she could easily touch her clit, but she couldn't do both, she couldn't penetrate and touch her clit at the same time.

She was getting closer. He could see it, her face was flushed red, her breathing was short and fast and her hips moved higher and higher. He was hard watching her. He loved watching her please herself.

"I want you to use one hand on your pussy and one in your ass now."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, her mouth open, she was catching her breath. She couldn't believe he'd just asked her to do that. She'd never done that before. She was shy and hesitated.
He nodded her on. She shifted her hands to accommodate the new position.

He knew she loved a finger in the ass while making love, it usually made her cum hard he was sure it would work this time too.

Her finger was already wet, it slid in easily. She felt the tightness around the tip, it made her gasp. The other hand worked her opening but she couldn't help but buck against her hands now. Lifting her hips higher, arching her back more, instinctively her finger went deeper into the forbidden hole. She could feel the spasms starting, her muscles pulsing around her own finger, she lifted her tummy off the bed, almost on her knees now, pushing her fingers in as far as they would go, her shoulders supporting her weight. She was pulling so hard on the scarf that it had exposed her breasts and it had tightened around her neck. she moaned with pleasure, feeling the tension everywhere from her shoulders, neck, arms and hands. Everything straining against the scarf.

He watched her cum, hard and pulsing himself, he wanted her so badly, but he knew he had to wait. She came down slowly, spent and tired. Face flush with a natural blush, her lips red. Her body relaxed, limp on the bed.

She was out of breath, tired from the exertion. She relaxed and her eyes settled on him. She could tell he wasn't done with her, but for now she just watched him squirm in the chair where he sat.

Monday, August 9, 2010


Ok so I've been thinking. I've been needing to pay a friend of mine for help with a translation and I was thinking that the best way to do that would be with a Paypal account. Then I started thinking about starting some side jobs on internet writing or something... or something. Anyhow I was thinking that Paypal could also be useful in this case.

I need some advice on how it works. Does anyone have any ideas?

I need to set up a relatively anonymous account where I can pay people and accept money without any real names going through. Is this possible?

I already have a prepaid credit card that is just mine. (I'm not sure that's relevant or not)

Here's to hoping someone can help me figure this out :)

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Chatroulette couple

Ok wow. I was hanging out on chatroulette. I wasn't doing anything naughty, in fact I was eating spaghetti, watching the cocks roll by, when this couple appeared on screen.

They must be in their mid to late 20s (I'd guess) he was a sandy medium blond cutie with rugged longish hair. And she was a beautiful blue eyed long haired, sunkissed blond. They stopped to talk, it was on her cue, she said something like "what about her" when they saw me. We did the small talk for a bit, where are you from, what do you do... and all the rest. There was no question about age. They aren't a couple, they "just have sex". Then out of the blue they asked if I wanted to have some fun with them in Holland. They said they'd pay for the flight. (WTF!?!?!?!)

Ok... I couldn't have picked a hotter cuter sweeter couple out of a line-up.

She looked (a lot ) like Caroline Woniacki (a tennis player)

He looked like a young scruffy slightly darker haired version of Val Kilmer... (think wavy hair)

So yeah they have my email. They emailed me and I met up again on Skype last night. We'll see how that goes for a while.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Happiness is a warm kiss

**Nothing in this story is invented. It is based on a true event right up to him parking his car. I figured this was the closest I'll get to the real thing so here it is.**

She had watched him all evening playing in his band. He was tall, and very thin. His handsomely angular face was covered partially by his shoulder length black hair. Just the sight of him with his guitar turned her on. He would often play till his fingers bled. The passion he exuded when he played made it seem like he was making love to the song. He wasn't the lead singer. But he sang a few songs. "Happiness is a Warm Gun" and "Rocky Racoon" by the Beatles were by far her favourites, they had punked them up a little. 

She was sitting in the "Crow's Nest" as they called it. A little room above the dance floor in the club with a balcony view onto the stage. He brought her there personally, she was still 18 and under age, she wasn't actually allowed into the place. 

Below, he was on stage, singing and playing guitar. She knew every one of the members quite well. They were all friends. But she wanted him. The guitarist. They had been flirting for months. Never touching, just pleasant chat, a few rides in his car together, nothing more. 

The show was over and she knew that she could sneak into the crowd now, no one would notice her coming down from the "Crow's Nest". She started to mingle with the other band members, congratulating them on the show. She spotted him across the crowd, he stood out easily, as tall as he was. He was making his way towards her, beer in hand, lanky and slow. That crooked, sly grin on his face "lets get you home kiddo, I'm bushed".

They walked towards his little red MGB roadster with Marvin the Martian hanging from his windshield.
They didn't say much in the car until she was almost home. That's when he started talking about blues influences, Robert Johnson at the crossroads and selling his soul to the devil. She listened intently, memorising the information for future conversations. 

When they got to her house, he parked the car. They had fallen silent, it was the usual embarrassment before leaving each other. So many unsaid desires. Neither of them wanted it to end. She could feel his tension, not knowing what to say or how to proceed. 

-"So, I guess I'll see you at QV's tomorrow then" she said 
-"Sounds good to me"
-"My dad's not home... I bet you're exhausted..."
-"Nah I'm awake now"
-"wanna come in for a minute?"

He opened his door and climbed out, she followed his cue. They walked up the steps to the porch and she dug in her bag for her keys. 
Once inside she didn't turn any lights on. The house was lit in a blue glow from the street lights just outside her bedroom window. The light filtered through her venetian blinds into the hallway of the house. She led the way into the living room and plunked herself on the couch. He followed behind and hesitated a moment beside her before sitting down. 

Nothing was said, no words, nothing trivial. He just moved his hand towards her face, and cupped her head in his hand, letting her hair fall between his long fingers. She moved her head instinctively towards his hand, turning her face to kiss the palm of his hand. His raw fingers running lightly over her soft lips, teasing her mouth. His thumb running slowly over her bottom lip pulling it down to part her lips slightly. He leaned in and their lips touched. Hesitant, she pulled back slightly just for a fraction of a second, just a breath, and then back again. Their lips met this time with more pressure, she could feel the softness of his between hers. It was unbearably good, she pulled away again, this time pushing with a hand on his neck. She looked at him, her eyes searching his for a moment, only to be drawn back to the hunger she had for him. Shyly she tasted him, running her tongue lightly along his lip, just a taste, a stolen moment. His lips were musty sweet with a hint of beer. It was not franticly passionate kiss, it was hesitant. Shy. Almost embarrassed. It was light, non invasive and tentative. They hungered for each other, but they were wary, treading a careful path.

Friday, August 6, 2010

The Travel Agent.

**Written yesterday**

The travel agent contacted me again today. We carried on a very very very interesting conversation. It was insanely arousing. Bf was sitting across from me and I couldn't do anything. He asked me about my sexual behaviour with bf, whether we had an open relationship, whether I'd like to have a threesome. 

It continued to the point of him reminding me of an evening we had together. My memories are vague, but if I'm not mistaken we had gone to a movie, and after I went to stay at his place for the night and we had sex as soon as we got back. I then remember waking up at 3 am to him fingering me, I was so wet that he could spread the lubrication around, right up the back, and he started teasing my hole. I started moaning and grinding against his fingers. He entered me with his finger, my tight hole resisting a little. It was my very first anal experience so I had no idea what it could feel like. I remember saying that I wanted it, but he kept telling me I wasn't ready.... and I must have begged for it, because he gave it to me. And boy was it ever good. 

The conversation drifted, he told me he wanted to DP me, he told me that he'd like to "watch his wife penetrate me with a thick dildo and lick my clit while he drove his cock deeper into my ass". 

And then on to Adult Friend Finder. He told me that he and his wife are on there and they do live shows, they even had 2000 viewers. He said they have videos and pictures up there. I went and even signed up for an account, but little did I know that you have to pay for an account to see someone's profile. So I deleted the account as soon as I had it up there. 

I felt compelled to tell him about the blog, we don't have any friends in common back home so I feel pretty safe with that. Oh and he lives on an island nowhere near Canada... so yeah, safe...

So yah, pretty eventful day.... I'd say...

Thursday, August 5, 2010


Me on chatroulette

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Comment I left on Raoul's blog.

*I left in 1998. I moved to Europe to cut all ties, yet I opened the proverbial can of worms you speak about. There was no avoiding it. I tried to avoid it like I tried to avoid cell phones. The opposition only lasted so long. The heartache is very intense at times. Sometimes more than others... like tonight. It goes away though, eventually... It takes time. All of the lost opportunities or stupid mistakes leave holes and they're hard to ignore.*

He published it today.... no reply though. Yeah I shouldn't have commented. Gotta leave those things alone.

On Facebook I was contacted by another of my past lovers. He was a travel agent back at home. He was quite a bit older than me. We had amazing sex. But we also smoked a lot of weed together. Hey if you grow up West Coast Canada... that's what you do.
His chat on FB was brief and hurried. We talked about the weather and I asked about his new kid. I know him and his partner had a baby boy about a year ago.  He said that he'd post some pictures of him and his son on FB soon. And I said that I'd be happy to see them because I haven't seen him, his face in years. There was a customer in his shop, he had to run, but before going he said "I've always had a soft spot for you, don't tell anyone"

To tell the truth, I'm a little afraid of the pictures. I'm afraid I'll remember too much. At the moment I don't really remember what he looks like. Seeing his face will bring back so many memories.
All I need is another heartache.

Sex from the past with Trucker part 2

His finger slid slowly and easily between my virgin lips and he teased the hole, never venturing in too far. It was exploration more than pleasure seeking I think. I felt compelled to do the same to him. I didn't have any clue as to how it all worked, but I thought I'd give it a try just the same. So I slid my hand into his swimming trunks and took hold of him, he was hard of course. I tried to move my hand a little, but without knowing what to do really, and with swimming trunks in the way, any movement was difficult. So I kind of just held him, releasing and tightening the pressure.

This is when his bigger sister walked in. She was supposed to be responsible for us. His parents weren't around that weekend. She was angry at him and told him to get his ass back down to the beach. She didn't talk to me, I was embarrassed as hell and ran into the washroom to gather my thoughts. I was paranoid that people would smell the sex on me. I could smell it on myself. I could still smell our chemistry. I smelled my hand instinctively but his smell was nothing like a woman's smell. I was surprised.

His big sister was cool. She didn't say a word to anyone. Although I seem to remember conversations with him and her about him having to be honest with Rhea about not wanting to date her anymore. So yeah, they broke up shortly there after. Rhea hasn't really spoken to me since.

Trucker and I dated for a while. Months perhaps, we kissed a lot, he was an amazing kisser. But there was never any sex. There was some fooling around, fingering and such, but it never went too far. I never even gave him a blow job. I was pretty young. Close to the next summer he broke up with me. I'm sure he wanted his freedom, but I was torn up about it. I really liked him a lot.

The last time I saw him was at my best friend Harmony's wedding about 10 years ago. I did the calling of the invites and he actually said he'd come. There was chemistry between us. It ignited like a piece of straw on hot embers. There was that sparkle in his eye when he looked at me. The same sparkle that I remembered from all those years back. I went with him on one of his work rounds (he drove trucks around down) we had a chat about what we had gotten up to. And he promised me he'd be at the wedding reception, even if just for a short hello. That was the last I heard from him. He's not on internet, on FB or anywhere else. I'm sure he's busy with his truck company.

Another twang of regret. I know he would have been amazing in bed. His care for detail and his caution would have made it sweet and sexy. But I will never know...

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Sex from the past with Trucker part 1

Ok, there's no actual sex in this story, but I'm going to tell it anyway.

This is the story of my very first official boyfriend.

The story goes like this:
It was summer and I was in Jr. High. I always hung out with two girls, one was my best friend (let's call her Harmony) and the other was my best friend's friend (let's call her Rhea). Rhea and I didn't get along much. In fact she hated me. She was really competitive and was always trying to beat me at things. I'm not really the competitive type, but when people challenge me, I go for it.

They were headed to a birthday party out in the boondocks of the city I grew up in. The birthday boy was a rich kid who had a hot tub and was basically Rhea's boyfriend. I didn't know the guy. But somehow I got invited. I trucked my ass out there by bus, It had started out as a hot morning, so I was wearing really short jean shorts with my bathing suit underneath. But by the time I got to the neighbourhood it had started to rain.

I got to the house and there were a lot of guys, actually I think me and my two friends were the only girls there. I was freezing so I jumped directly into the hot-tub with the other boys.

I don't remember too much of the party, except that the birthday boy... let's call him Trucker kept flirting with me. He would touch my bare thighs, run his fingers under the hem of my jean shorts.... It was the first time anyone had ever touched me like that.

I'm not sure what happened next. We somehow kept in touch, but I got invited to his summer cottage with my two girlfriends. And Rhea was still supposed to be dating him, Harmony really liked him, and he was flirting with me. It was a really uncomfortable situation. It made Harmony jealous, and Rhea hated me even more. But Rhea and Trucker were really involved (as far as someone can be involved in Jr. High) They would go and make out on occasion.

One of the four days we were there everyone was sunbathing or playing at the bay of the ocean inlet and I went up to the cottage to go to the washroom. When I came out of the bathroom I found Trucker waiting for me. I'm not going to make stuff up, I don't remember what happened after that, we probably kissed. He must have cornered me. But we ended up on his parent's bed making out.

It was my first time doing anything of the sort. As we were kissing, his hand slid down my shorts. It scared me. I didn't know what to do. I can remember the sensations, the smell of his heat and the ocean on him so clearly. The butterflies in my stomach were ganging up on me, but I kept my cool.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Gnawing at me.

Being home and not able to move has made me read my old diaries. This has brought on a sensation of panic and regret for one unfulfilled relationship in particular: Raoul the artist/musician. It's eating away the back of my mind. It's gnawing at me. The feelings expressed in my diary of that year are so vivid still. His looks at me, my jealousy towards other girls, my wanting him to make his move. The long talks, me sitting at his work, waiting, waiting, waiting. A year of waiting for memories of waiting, nothing more. Not even a touch. a caress a graze a kiss.

I needed to purge. I left a comment on his blog the other night. I probably shouldn't have, he's happy in the relationship he's in. I left it on an old post hoping he wouldn't notice it. But he approves all comments now, I'd forgotten. It was on the post about facebook and how he had opened a can of worms when he signed up. Too much heartache he declares. He says he should have left for europe in 98... (strangely or not, the same year I did) cut off all contacts and he thinks he'd never have opened that can.

He's wrong. He'd have opened it just the same. Just like I did.

I said something that I shouldn't have... something that would have tipped him off that I was thinking about him. I must have spent over an hour and a half on his blog last night, I read every single post in march, and there were 47 or something. I hope I don't go tipping his balance. I don't want that. He is precarious, it would be easy.

There must be something about that age that makes those feelings so strong. Hormones probably.