Sporting Goods goes for round 3

On a happier note, Sporting Goods and I have been texting while I was on vacation. He wants to hang out Sunday. The butterflies are a-fluttering.

Good Bye Brit

You might be a little shocked by the title of this blog. Listen, if I had read this 2 weeks ago, I would've been shocked as well. Let me explain. I come back to NYC after 2 weeks of being away, and Brit wants to hang out. During my 2 weeks hiatus from him, I realize that I don't really miss him. I find myself thinking about Sporting Goods much more. That's a red flag already.

We decide to see each other the night I am back. I am not overly excited or stoked. The butterflies aren't there anymore. Brit and I meet some of my friends out for drinks. After a couple cocktails, my sexual attraction for Brit is back. We are getting cozy and I am in the mood. Then, the bill comes and it's a hefty one. I put down my credit card and Brit doesn't offer to pay for any of it. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?! I know that he has been struggling financially but who does he think I am? His sugar momma? But I kick myself for saying anything. I hate bringing up money, it makes me uncomfortable. So feeling irked by the whole thing, we stumble back to my apartment.

I sort of get over the whole thing since I am thoroughly wasted. I don't remember what happens next but I am positive we have sex. Multiple times. I will admit that Brit is great in bed 'cause he elongates foreplay. What girl doesn't like foreplay?

The next morning I wake up with extreme frustration. I finally come to the realization that Brit has not been treating me the way I deserve to be treated. When was the last time he made an effort with me? When was the last time he did something nice for me? He hasn't even started to court me and I'm already picking up the tab? He may say things that I want to hear ("I miss you," "I'm attached"), but there's no action to match. And the more I think about it the more I envy his situation. Not only does he reap the benefits of my financial stability, but he also gets to see me naked, and have sex with me! Doesn't he realize how lucky he is?

As I start brewing with these thoughts, I grow colder and colder towards Brit. I start to move away from his arms and when he gets up to leave, I let him. I know he senses something is wrong and I know I probably should explain things. But at the same time, I feel like he doesn't deserve an explanation. He kisses me on my forehead and I say "bye." It's for good this time.

When a man doesn't cherish the woman he's with, he deserves nothing from her. Good bye Brit, one day you're in and next day, you're out.

Mr. Broken

I am on vacation with my family for the holidays and decide to make my last night at the resort a good one. A guy friend just happens to be at the same resort so we decide to hit the clubs. Keep in mind that I've been with my family for almost 2 weeks so I am not in the mental or physical state of hooking up. My goal is to drink and dance.

We get to the club and start dancing and drinking. I notice cute guys but I know they're not going to approach me with my guy friend around. Again, I'm not looking to hook up anyway. My friend and I hit the bar and while he's ordering drinks, I notice a guy trying to get the bartender's attention. I laugh at him a little and he starts talking to me. He's on the shorter side, small stature, but a big presence. I notice that he's a redhead and as I normally wouldn't go for redheads, something about him reminds me of my junior high crush who was also a redhead (if my friend B is reading this, you know who I'm talking about!). He has a really cute face with the best smile wrinkles I've ever seen. I am mysteriously attracted to him and enjoy his sense of humor and confidence. There's nothing better than a man who is confident in who he is. Oh, did I mention his southern accent?

After he establishes that there's nothing romantic between me and my guy friend, he leads me to the dance floor. Mystery man is from North Carolina and is my age. He's out here by himself after finding out about his unfaithful wife the day before Thanksgiving. They've been together for 8 years; 5 years married. I then find out that he has been nothing but faithful to her, put her through nursing school, gave her everything she wanted and needed: bought the house she requested, bought the boat she demanded. The man is broken. Mr. Broken. He tells me that he had fallen for her the minute he saw her and wanted to give her the world. The bitch then decided to fuck a mutual friend. Classy.

There's so much pain in Mr. Broken's eyes but there's also determination. He's out here to have fun and to start over. I tell him that he made 3 big mistakes: 1) getting married so young, 2) spoiling the shit out of his wife, and 3) believing in marriage in the first place. We toast and start making out. Broken and I then go back to his room and talk for a good hour...just about life, relationships, our stories. He's from a conservative southern upbringing, so my views shock him a little, but we still seem to be on the same page. I truly admire a man who can decide to close a chapter in his life and fully move on to the next. Mr. Broken is so ready for new adventures that it makes me feel like we're kids, thinking that the sky is the limit.

We end the night having sex before I have to catch my 6am flight back to NYC. It is all very intimate and he is a great lover. After I get dressed, he sneaks a picture of me and says, "I need proof that I met such a hot woman tonight." We exchange contact info and we are still texting back and forth as I write this.

Broken's divorce will be finalized in September 2010. Cheers to that!

Sex Lighting

Since I've literally tripled the number of men I've slept with in my 2 months of singlehood, I've decided to invest in some sex lighting. I used to only be able to have sex in the dark, I guess it comes with insecurities that we all have. But I've also realized that the darker it is, the sleepier I tend to be. There have been incidences where I almost fell asleep with a cock in me. I guess boozing too much beforehand doesn't help either.

The idea of sex lighting came to me when SG and I slept together last week. I had my kitchen light on and it's pretty bright. Right before we got naked, SG turned that light off and asked, "Is that too dark?" I wanted to respond, "Yes" but at the same time, I didn't know what would be my alternative. I think all of my lights are too bright, unless if I turn the bathroom light on and close the door half way. Which, in my opinion, would take way too much effort and time.

So, I need something that is within reach from my bed, and creates a candlelit atmosphere without actually lighting a candle. Nothing as cheesy as clap-on clap-off, but something equally as easy! The search begins...

Brit is back, again.

Mr. Brit texted me over a week ago to see how I was doing. I responded and asked him how he was doing, but never heard back. By now, I assume that things are cooling down between us and that he has probably moved on to someone else. I am hurt and a little confused, but at the same time, feel that I have moved on to Mr. Sporting Goods. The day I am leaving to go home for the holidays, I do a courtesy text to Brit, "Hey, I'm leaving today. Just wanting to wish you happy holidays." Immediately, I get a text back, "Likewise. I texted you last week but never got a response...made me sad" followed by "I miss your face." After a couple more exchanges, we figure out that he never got my text message so for the 2 weeks we had not seen each other, we both assumed the other one had moved on. Technology has failed us.

You know how in the book and the movie, "He's Just Not That Into You" it's a rule that if the guy is interested, he'll contact you. So, if you don't hear from him, don't make excuses such as "maybe his phone died," "maybe he never got my message," "maybe he's really busy at work." Well ladies and gents, this is one incident where he really didn't get my message!

That night, maybe by fate, I miss my flight and can't fly out until the next morning. My first text goes out to Brit, "Hey missed my flight, what are you up to tonight?" That night, after having dinner and drinks with one of my guy friends, Brit comes and meets up with me. As soon as we make eye contact, we can't keep our hands off of each other. He tells me that 2 weeks of not seeing me is way too long. We finish up our drinks and head back to my place. I have to admit, it's so nice to be back in Brit's arms again although I've been mad at him. He is so gentle and smooth, and extremely attentive. We start getting hot and heavy and Brit asks for a condom. Suddenly, flashes of Mr. Ireland and Mr. Oops go by and I realize that I am out of condoms. I break the news to him and Brit says, "You're out? What did you do with them?...Wait, don't answer that." He looks really disappointed and I feel really bad. Obviously, he knows I haven't exactly been making condom balloon animals in the last 2 weeks. We decide to cuddle until I have to head to the airport. Brit tells me that he hasn't touched a girl since he's been with me. And I believe him. He then tells me that he's attached. And I believe him.

Brit then sends me off in a cab to the airport and as I pull away, I can't help but feel confused emotionally and physically. I feel a level of romance and comfort with Brit, but at the same time feel excitement and mystery with SG. I definitely have strong feelings for both and I just want to enjoy the confusion for now.

2nd Date w/ Mr. Sporting Goods

After what seems like the 3 longest days of my life, my 2nd date with Sporting Goods is finally here. I have been contemplating whether I want to sleep with him or not. I guess it's not really do I want to, but should I? Still undecided, I pick out an outfit that's covered up on top ("I'm a good girl and don't sleep around") and tight on the bottom with high boots ("But I can be a bad girl if you want me to"). I head to my usual dance class and sneak out early so I can take a quick shower and pretty myself up. On my way to meet Mr. SG at the movie theater (conveniently located right by my apartment), my heart is racing and I feel like I'm about to explode. I spot him from outside and I pause to catch my breath. He is so hot. I am still in disbelief that this handsome man is here for me and we're about to spend the rest of the evening together. Just me and him. Then I remind myself that this is the type of guy I deserve and he should be thankful to be with ME tonight.

I walk in and give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. SG already has the tickets ready and we engage in some small talk. I would tell you what movie we're seeing but it really doesn't matter. We walk into the theater and I am disappointed that he doesn't choose the dark corner spot. Frankly, I just want to make out with him and have no interest in the movie whatsoever. The first half of movie we make little comments in each other's ears, but there's not much touching. Our body language, however, says otherwise. We're both leaned in towards each other. At one point, he's rubbing his hands due to the frigid temperature in the theater (why do they do that, btw?). I start rubbing his arms and he grabs my face and kisses me. It literally melts me in my seat. I am grinning from ear-to-ear and I can see he's the same at the corner of my eye. For the rest of the movie, SG either has his hand on my leg or is holding my hand. I'm liking how this movie is ending.

We head out to grab a drink and stop in at a random wine bar. After 3 glasses of wine, 4 beers, and pleasant conversation, we are basically kicked out by the staff as they start to put away the chairs and turn on the lights. SG and I walk out holding hands and then suddenly he stops, I turn around, and he says "Come here" and pulls me in for a kiss. There we are, 2 almost-strangers who met randomly at a bar barely 2 weeks ago, in a passionate embrace, making out in the middle of NYC. I love these moments because I don't think about anything else. Suddenly, we're interrupted by a cab honking. SG starts walking towards it and asks, "Are you coming with me?" I grab his hand and say, "No, you're coming home with me." It is freezing and windy and I tell SG that I want to make us some tea.

We head up to my apartment and I start boiling water. SG takes a quick tour of my studio and as I head towards my kitchen, he grabs me and lifts me up as I straddle him. We make out passionately and he gently puts me down on my bed. He then rips off my boots and starts taking off my top and my bra. The teapot starts whistling and I have to interrupt our session and turn off the stove. I quickly rush back and we resume in full force. We strip each other down and SG already has a condom handy. I like a man who is prepared but also, rather presumptuous, don't you think? Before he puts it on, I reach down for a feel. SG is BIIIIG. Not as long as Magic Stick, but definitely the biggest girth I have ever encountered. And what makes me even more ecstatic is that he is as hard as a rock. I let go so he could put the condom on. SG penetrates and I am haaaaaappy. I do, however, take several breaks because his cock is a little too much to handle at times. During those breaks, I lean back and admire SG's manly physique. He may be younger than me, but he has a mature sexual prowess about him. He also likes to do a little biting and spanking. It's always the quiet ones who are freaky in bed!

We finally tire each other out and SG spoons me. I ask him, "I thought you didn't want too many notches under your belt?" SG responds, "I don't like sleeping with people I know I don't want to see again." And then he says, "I have a confession. I really just came up for tea."

After SG leaves, I realize he's left his scarf. So, I text him, "left your scarf genius." He responds, "Yeah, the old leave behind gives me a good excuse to see you again."

I can't stop smiling and miss him already. So, I stalk his Facebook profile until I'm cross-eyed.

Magic Stick Won't Disappear!

On Sunday, I get home late from a holiday party and immediate get an IM from Magic Stick. After some forgettable small talk, he randomly asks, "What do you like?" So I randomly answer, "Flowers." Then he writes, "Stay awake for a while. I have some personal matters to attend to. Be right back." I'm buzzed and tired so I get ready for bed.

At around 3am, I hear my door buzzer go off. In my head, I'm thinking it's just some bootie call that got the wrong door. Then, I get a text from Magic Stick, verifying my apartment number! He proceeds to call me. I feel bad so I buzz him in. He is standing at the door with purple carnations at fucking 3am.

Magic Stick immediately steps in and tries to kiss me. I push him away. I thank him for the flowers and crawl back into bed. He starts taking off some of his clothes. I guess I must feel bad so I let him sleep over, but I make it very clear that we are not having sex. Magic Stick gets into bed and presses his magic stick against my thigh. He then cuddles with me and I pretend that I have fallen asleep. The next morning, I wake up to him caressing and sucking my nipples. I enjoy it for what it is since I literally haven't gotten any since Mr. Ireland. But then, his lips come close to mine, and that's when I push him away again. Magic Stick is definitely determined and tells me that he wants to go down on me but we don't have to have sex. I am so turned off by his desperation at this point that I push him away again. Magic Stick eventually gives up and leaves, but not without asking me for a kiss again. I give him a hug as a consolation prize.

Normally, I would find such a gesture somewhat romantic. But with Magic Stick, it was just down right creepy!

Sporting Goods calls for 2nd date!

Sporting Goods called tonight to go out again later this week. I seriously cannot wait! The dilemma is, shall I sleep with him or not before I leave for the holidays.....hmmmmm.

Date with Sporting Goods

First, Mr. Tennis cancels on our date so I decide to make a dinner date with my gay harem. OK, so it's my 1st date with Sporting Goods and it's literally 2 degrees in Manhattan. I pick up a new wool coat to wear over my new cute top. Yes, that's how prepared I am. My look is casual chic because I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard, but I've definitely put in an effort. I arrive at the bar fashionably late and nerves kick in as I slowly scan the bar for a familiar face. Then, there he is, cuter than I remembered, sitting at an empty table drinking a beer and making his way over to me. We hug hello (he's definitely tall) and he immediately goes to the bar to get my drink of choice. I settle on Amstel Light. He questions if they even have it, and I say with my utmost confidence, "Oh, they definitely do." (I did my research ahead of time).

We settle into our table and I notice that the bar is small and intimate. It's a cafe by day and bar after 5:30. I read on Yelp that it's a good place to take a date. Our conversation begins with how our days have been, the weather, and what we've been up to. Sporting Goods is more corporate than what I'm used too, and he's quite conservative. But he's also got a dry sense of humor. It's a good combo for me right now, seeing that I've been sleeping with homeless people (did I tell you? The Brit was homeless for a week?). I have to admit that I was really afraid that SG and I would run out of stuff to talk about in the 1.5 hours I've alloted for our date. But the conversation flows naturally and before I know it, I am already running half an hour late to dinner. Sporting Goods tells me that he's headed to my neighborhood to meet up with some friends and that he'd like to see me later. I don't give him a definitive answer although my mind is screaming "YES!"

Sporting Goods hails a cab and opens the door for me. He drops me off first and tells me he's definitely going to ask me out again. He opens the door for me and motions his finger to his cheek. I hug him and aim for the cheek as he turns and lightly kisses me on the lips. It's all too perfect.

I go to dinner with my gay harem of 3 boys while smiling from ear to ear. We gossip for a good 2 hours and then make our way to Sporting Goods. I was thinking about not seeing him so soon but I wanted a real kiss and I was determined to get it! We arrive at the bar and we all chat for a bit. SG shows me some dance moves and I show him some of mine. We are not touchy feely with each other although I am dying to be in his arms. Randomly, 2 guys approach us and start chatting with us. One of them is clearly hitting on me and offers to buy me a drink. What perfect timing! I'm creating competition without even planning on it.

It's getting late and SG has to work tomorrow. He asks to walk me home and I accept. We get to the front of my building and while I'm in mid-sentence, SG walks over and kisses me. The moment I've been waiting for!!! The kiss is lovely and even in 2 degree weather, I am feeling the heat. We embrace each other and the kiss is getting more passionate. He puts his hands against my skin on my lower back. He then slowly caresses the side of my hip and stomach. It's driving me crazy but I know I can't invite him in. Mostly because mother nature is making her monthly visit. We then hug good bye and SG says, "I'll talk to you later."

I'm kind of melting as I'm typing this, but this is by far one of the best dates I've ever had. But, I'm not going to get overly excited about it, at least not yet...

To double book or not to double book?

Mr. Tennis texts me and wants to hang out on the same night that I'm getting drinks with Mr. Sporting Goods. But, seeing that it is early drinks, I can squeeze in another date that night, right? I think it's always good to leave the first date so you're not lingering, and it creates a sense of mystery. I don't know, that's what I think.

Mr. Tennis

My girlfriend invites me to her tennis club holiday party and I show up with no expectations. I walk in and right away get introduced to a very cute guy. He's roughly 6 feet, strong broad shoulders, dark Asian-mix features that make him resemble a younger version of Tiger Woods, sans the harem of whores I hope. Instead of golf though, he plays tennis. So, I have my eye on Mr. Tennis for the night. I notice there is somewhat of a connection as he sits next to me and engages in a slightly awkward conversation. He is not the smoothest guy but that may also because he's still in his early 20's. We flirt for a bit and there is a lot of touching. There's also alcohol, so it makes the awkwardness dissipate a little. The group's innocent conversation eventually turns into sex talk. This is pretty inevitable in a group of young coeds. I am happy to divulge my sexual observations and am happy that Tennis is willing to share as well. At this point, I am pretty confident that he'll ask for my number.

We move to a bar across the street and Tennis is touching me whenever he can. He notices that I have a belly button ring and a tat on my back. Both of which make him purr a little in my ear. I go to the window to observe something and he follows. As predicted, he asks for my number. "Hey, I think you're a really cute girl. You think I can get your number and we can hang out sometime this week?" Sure Tennis, you can have my number.

Now let's see how many dates I can pile on this week.

Good Bye Magic Stick

Magic Stick has been wanting to hang out for quite some time now. I keep giving him excuses until one day I realized that I'm just not that into him. So one day after hanging out in a group, I pull him aside to tell him that I don't want to have sex with him anymore. Magic Stick is confused and wants to know why. I tell him that I am seeing and fucking other people. What I don't have the heart to say is, "I'd rather see and fuck other people."

Sometimes, when they're too willing and available, it takes the fun out of fucking them. Bye bye big cock, I'm determined to find something comparable.

Mr. Sporting Goods Calls!

SG called me today! He asked about my day and told me about his. We had a pleasant conversation and he asked me for drinks on Thursday! I seriously can't wait...

Mr. Ireland

It's snowing in NYC and I am in no mood to go out, until one of my girlfriends invites me out to celebrate her landing her dream job. I can't pass up the opportunity! We head to dinner and then end up at a bar where we know the bartender. Within 20 minutes, the bartender tells me a guy at the bar wants to buy me a drink. No girl can turn down a free drink, right? I order a Gin and Tonic and head over to him to say "thanks." He is a tall Irish guy from Ireland, not the Irish people in NYC who claim their Irish but have never even been (like Mr. Brooklyn). Mr. Ireland is not the typical guy that I'm attracted to, he is goofy looking and has a goofy personality. Very likable, very social, and very friendly. He asks for my number immediately so he doesn't ruin our girls night out, he claims. I give it to him and go back to the girls.

Throughout the night, he texts me telling me that he can't wait to hang out with me, and that I'm the hottest girl at the bar. Flattery coupled alcohol must work like magic on me, because I begin to approach Ireland and start dancing with him. At some point, a group of guys buys us shots while the bartender has been feeding us non-stop. I can't see straight but I know I'm horny. Ireland and I start making out and I grab him and take him home in a cab.

We get to my apartment and I do an aggressive striptease. I'm not sure what has come over me but I am an animal! Unfortunately, I don't remember anything else that happens after that.

Fast forward to the next morning. I wake up to 2 condom wrappers on the floor. We try fucking again but I am out of condoms. Ireland tells me that I was super kinky the night before, wanting him to pin me up against the wall and screaming, "Fuck me! Fuck me!" I'm a little shocked but not too surprised. I know I have a kinky side to me, but too bad I don't remember it at all!

Ireland tells me that he can't wait to hang out again. I don't blame him. But he can't seem to pronounce my name right. So, I tell him that the other way for him to see me again is if he leaves me a VM with the correct pronunciation of my name. This should be a fun game...

Mr. Engineer

Hot damn this weekend has been good to me. I go out with a couple of my single girlfriends and a few guy friends to our favorite bar that is quite fratastic. As soon as we settle, I make eye contact with a cute guy next to us. A couple minutes later, our eyes meet again. And then I'm pretty sure we had eye sex. My girlfriends keep pointing to him saying he's hot, so I tap him on the shoulder to take a picture of us. This somewhat breaks the ice and we all introduce ourselves. He tells us that he works as an engineer. Hello, Mr. Engineer. He is a tall, dark and handsome guy with exotic features; although, all my friends think he's just a white dude. I actually think he looks like the taller, younger version of Mark Consuelos. He even has the sexy Conseulos style. I am not totally listening to what he's saying because I'm more mesmerized by his handsome face.

I leave for the dance floor and he later comes to find me. Engineer is a super cute and goofy dancer. We dance a little closer and he says, "You're a crazy bitch" followed by "You're so gorgeous." Ummm...I'm not sure how to receive these combination of words, but fuck it, Mark Consuelos is dancing with me. He leans in for a kiss and we make out for a little bit. Meanwhile, I'm texting Brit on the side to see where he is. I decide to meet up with him and leave Engineer. He asks for my number and we hug good-bye.

I meet up with Brit and he is drunk. I flirt with other boys in front of him to create some competition. It doesn't work. I give up and leave with my friends. He doesn't try to stop me but kisses me and says, "I'll call you later?" I respond, "Maybe."

I'm thinking it's time to move past Brit. Maybe Engineer will do the trick. Alright, a 2nd phone call to wait for in the coming week!

Mr. Sporting Goods

It's a quiet Thursday night and my gay bestie and I are hanging out at a local bar around my neighborhood. We don't plan on it being a long night but sometimes the best nights are unplanned. We do a little bit of bar hopping and end up at one where the "sausage" looks nice and plentiful. As soon as we walk in, we notice a cute guy in a white shirt standing with a group of his guy friends. Gay bestie wants me to approach him but 1) I'm not that bold and 2) I'm not drunk enough. We sit at a table by ourselves, drink wine and gossip about the people around us. All of a sudden, gay bestie says, "He's coming back from the bathroom, I'm going to reel him in." I'm mortified and try to stop him, but it's too late. Cute guy walks by and gay bestie reaches out his hand and says, "Hi, I'm XXX and this is my friend XXX." To my surprise, the cute guy is not totally scared and confidently says, "Hi, I'm XXX" and stays at our table. Nice.

After some pleasant conversation, we find out that cute guy currently works for his family business, which is a popular sporting goods store in the city. And hence, Mr. Sporting Goods. Sporting Goods (SG) is a traditionally handsome guy in his mid-20's, about 6'0", full head of dark hair, and light (possibly blue?) eyes. He has extremely nice and full lips. SG's personality is what I would call quiet confidence. He doesn't mind talking about himself but he's more interested in learning about us. I also think SG is more relationship material than one-night-fuck. While gay bestie is talking, SG and I would intermittently lock eyes. I also love the fact that he uses my name whenever he can so he doesn't forget it. This is so attractive to me because my name is not the easiet to remember, so when a guy makes this effort, it shows that he's interested.

SG leaves for a little bit to talk with his friends while I go over my text messages. While gay bestie goes to the bathroom, SG comes back to talk to me. I kind of get butterflies in my stomach when I make eye contact with him, but of course, I keep my cool. He asks a couple more questions about me and never seems fazed by gay bestie's shocking stories. We then find out the SG has a younger brother who is gay and he thinks that his brother and my friend should hang out. SG gets my friend's info, then turns to me and says, "Can I get your number as well? I would love to call you sometime." Done! I then hug SG good-bye.

I'm really hoping SG calls. And BTW, need to tag team with my gay bestie more often!

Brit is back

After some quiet time from Brit, I decided to erase his phone number. I felt like I was played and I was disappointed that I had allowed myself to get this vulnerable. Feeling somewhat better, I go to dinner with my gay bestie and we have a few drinks at a quiet bar in the West Village. We sit next to two hot guys and my gay plays wing man for me. I have a nice conversation with one of the guys and feel a little bit of a spark. The situation is little awkward so I don't try too hard. The two guys leave and we discover that the one I liked had left his hat. With a little bit of liquid courage and strong motivation to move on, I decide to put my number on a card in his hat. I have nothing to lose because 1) I'm not entirely sure it's even his hat (could belong to some fat old guy who came in earlier) and 2) why the hell not?

About a minute after I leave my number, I get a text "Hi beautiful, what are you up to tonight?" Yup, it's from Brit. I have the urge to ignore it but I miss him. So of course, I tell him where I am and he shows up about 30 minutes later. I'm so excited to see him it's a little bit sick. Brit looks so good and I realize that he is a great dresser, probably because his body would make any clothes look good. We chat for a while and he tells me that he missed me this past week. We then walk back to my place hand-in-hand and have sex almost immediately after we get back to my apartment.

The next day, Brit and I have morning sex several times until it's no longer morning. We then grab some food and catch a movie. Perfect Sunday. I'm going to admit that I am smitten, but also wonder who else he is seeing. Not that I could even judge, given my track record this past week.

Now, about the hat boy...

Mr. Oops

It's a big going out night in Manhattan and as I'm getting beautified, I get a Facebook message from a guy who I know from a mutual friend. A mutual friend I used to make out with. He's seeing if I'm in town and wants to hang out. I've only hung out with him a handful of times. I've never thought anything of him because he's always had a girlfriend, and he still does. But I will say that he is incredibly cute. 26, All-American, super tall, VERY toned body, and an endearing baby face. Still, he has a girlfriend and we've never even flirted in the past. So, I invite him out with no intentions of doing anything with him.

We meet on the Lower East Side and start drinking. I tell him my mission is to get shit faced (due to my frustrations with Brit). We then head over to another bar to meet up with my friends. A couple drinks later, we are dancing our asses off on the dance floor. We start dancing a little closer and his arm sporadically comes around my waist. I dance a little closer. Totally innocent, right?

My friends decide to leave and we decide to stay. Now it's just the two of us. We are both wasted. This is dangerous. We start grinding. It's getting hot. He sits down and I start grinding against his boner. He begins to rub my thighs. I turn my head, and he goes in for a kiss. Oops.

We make out for what seems like 5 hours. Everyone's staring but I don't care. A girl comes over with a digital camera. I ask her what she's doing. She asks, "Can I take a picture of you?" Me: "NO!" I go back to making out with Mr. Oops. I go to the bathroom to pee and later I find out a guy came over to Oops to tell him that he's the luckiest man at the bar. I concur. I come back from the restroom and we're now standing up and making out. Oops is a very good kisser, very good with his tongue. The kissing becomes more passionate and I reach down to feel his package. I like it. We grab our jackets and head out the door around 3:30am. I tell him he has to walk me home. Oops offers to give me a ride on his bike. Talk about a New York moment: two drunken horny kids on a bike at almost 4am, stopping every other block to make out. You can't make this shit up.

We get to outside my apartment and we make out some more while I rub his cock. I never knew I could be this aggressive! I tell him he's so hot. He tells me he can't do this, so I ease up on the rubbing. Oops pushes in for even more tongue action and asks, "Do you have something to drink at your apartment?" A little perplexed, I respond, "Sure, whatever you want."

Mr. Oops is not the smoothest guy if you can't tell. He's a little nervous but I understand there's a little more to it than just nervousness. Guilt, probably. He comes up to my apartment and I push him on to my bed (If my bed could talk, I wonder what it would say...). We continue our making out and Oops undresses me. I take pleasure in undressing him, exposing his athletic physique. Oops has a 6-pack that even I am envious of. His hand is so big that it covers my entire stomach. I reach down to touch his cock. It's not rock solid but it is definitely up. I grab a condom and we go at it. I can't recall what happened after that...

The next morning, I am surprised he doesn't have an "oh shit" moment. He seems chill, and I can feel the tip of his morning wood against my thigh. I vow not to do anything about it. Anything he does now in his sober state, he'll have to take responsibility for. Oops starts our conversation with "Well, this is weird." He then puts his arms around me and we start grinding while he fingers me. He puts on a condom and we fuck until he cums.

We maturely talk about how things will not be weird between us. We also say how neither one of us expected or planned for this to happen. I sense a small level of guilt in his voice and now I feel bad. He tells me it's not my fault and not to feel bad. Oops puts on his clothes and hugs me good bye.

Am I becoming a sex addict?

Nooner wants "lunch"

Nooner randomly IM's me today to see what I'm doing for lunch. I'm up for hanging out and while trying to decide where to go, he tells me, "actually, this is a bad idea." Keep in my mind that he's roommates with Magic Stick and he has a girlfriend that he's thinking about moving in with. He tells me that he knows about us and he thinks that Magic Stick likes me. Nooner also tells me that if he sees me, he'll want to rip my clothes off. I remain coy and say, "that's not my problem." He asks for my address again and wants to come over instead of getting lunch. I tell him that he can come over but he can't touch me. Honestly, I'm fucking his roommate who has a larger and harder dick than him, and is also single. I don't need Nooner drama.

We finally decide to meet for lunch at a place no anywhere near my apartment. Conversation is rather dry because all there is is sexual chemistry. I find Nooner very attractive but I can also control myself this time.

We have a quick hug good-bye and I'm off to being mad at Brit for not dying to see me.

Magic Stick, encore encore

OK, so I know I said I was done with Magic Stick, but with Brit not texting me on Thanksgiving (when we've texted every day since our first date), and Magic Stick aggressively wanting to hang out, I thought "why not."

I'm out drinking with some of my out-of-state friends and Magic Stick comes to meet up. At the end of night, it's like there was no discussion, he gets in a cab with me and comes back to my place. I get into my cute PJs, he undresses to his boxers, I turn off the lights, and we both get into bed. At first, I don't want to do anything but his manly touch is so irresistible. I love how he can put his arm all the way around my waist. I like being man-handled. He then starts to caress my nipples and makes his way down to squeeze my ass. I almost feel taken advantage of, but in a very naughty, sexy way. Magic Stick's fingers eventually slip into me and we both realize that I am wet beyond belief. I tell him to go easy, and he suggests I get on top so I have more "control." We have not kissed.

He puts on a condom and I get on top. This time, his cock easily slips into me. I immediately feel like I'm going to come. The whole ride feels amazing so I make it last just a little bit longer. Magic Sticks gets more into it and leans over to grab my ass while sucking my nipples at the same time. It takes a very athletic man to pull off this combination of moves! I get overly excited and have a big O. He's not there yet, but I get off and tell him I'm done. We cuddle for a little bit as I lie in bed wondering why Brit has not texted me.

The next morning, we go at it again and this time he releases while I'm super close. Magic Stick wants to hang out all day, but I don't invite him to stay. I give him a quick kiss (our only kiss), and he leaves.

Brit texts me to see how my Thanksgiving was.

Happy Spanksgiving!

Hope you all get stuffed tonight.

Magic Stick, encore

With hours spent thinking about Brit, I did what any rational human being would do: distract myself with a huge cock. Magic Stick had been sending me texts all week wanting a "slumber party" and telling me that I'm "amazing." I finally decide to take him up on his offer by inviting him over. I set the boundaries though, telling him I had to be asleep by midnight so I could get up for a meeting at 9am. He agreed.

Magic Stick shows up at my apartment in about 15 minutes. He is so tall that the very idea of his height turns me on. I notice that he has really pretty blue eyes, but have a hard time making eye contact with him. There is no emotional connection. I change into my PJs, which really isn't my real PJs in the form of a mumu. I, of course, put on my cute PJs in the form of wife beater and short cotton shorts. We watch TV for a little bit and he starts to massage my arms. I get up to get something out of my closet, and Magic Stick comes behind me and starts kissing my neck. I was going to wait until after Gossip Girl, but I guess I'm ready now. Haha.

He slowly undresses me and I turn around for a kiss. Hmm, for some reason, the kiss is no good this time. Like he has too much saliva or something. Or maybe it's because I can't get Brit out of my mind. We go horizontal and his magic stick is out. It's huge, bigger than I remembered. I tell him to be gentle because I was sore last time. He goes in slowly and it feels amazing. As Magic Stick goes in and out, I start thinking about how good it feels...how much I wish Brit had a magic stick...uh oh, Brit is back on my mind...now it's starting to hurt....I'm not enjoying it as much...I wonder what I should wear tomorrow. "OK, stop. I'm done." I roll over and we go to bed.

In the morning we have sex again, but the excitement of his penis has worn off. I'm actually starting to think his penis is not compatible with the shape of my vagina. His cock curves downward which must rub me the wrong way to the point where it hurts. I decide that I am done with Magic Stick.

He was a good distraction, but just not enough.

Mr. Brit, continued

After dance class, I go out with my gays. I thought I would text Brit not really thinking we were going to meet up. And guess what? He comes to hang out with me my gay harem. My gays think he's super cute, which gives me ammunition to flirt even more. I begin to notice how comfortable he is in any social situation. I love that, it means he is confident in who he is, even though he is sort of shy. We then walk towards the next bar (a gay bar, of course), and he offers me his arm. We walk arm-in-arm for about 5 blocks before he slides his my hand into his. I really like him. I ask him if he's OK going to a gay bar, he responds, "I'll only have eyes for one person there." I really really like him.

We all get more drinks at the bar and play a little pool. During each "break," Brit comes over to hug me. I'm starting to sense that this date is a lot more different than the other fuck dates. At some point in the night, Brit leans in for a kiss and we share sweet, tender kisses for the rest of the night. Around 3:00am, things are getting a little hot and heavy, so Brit takes me back to my place.

Back at the apartment, we rip each other's clothes off and I get to touch his toned body. Brit is smaller framed than the other guys I've been with, but he's compact. Has the body of a surfer/b-boy. Brit is sexy in bed, with his smooth motions and his accent. I can't get over the accent, I could hear him whisper in my ear for hours. We have sweet sex, not overwhelmingly fabulous, but good. I wouldn't call it fucking. It was more like making love. There I said it. Make love.

Brit and I lie in bed and he's stroking my hair. He says, "You look spectacular naked." Wow, words to make me wet. Way better than Brooklyn's "You have a pretty sick body" line. Brit then looks into my eyes and says, "I like you, a lot." I lean in for a kiss. Holy shit, what have a gotten myself into.

The next morning, we end up having sex all day with breaks in between of course. Brit keeps asking me what positions I like, what do I want, what can he do... I come twice. At one point during one of our breaks, Brit is stroking my hair again and says, "It's going to be hard not to get attached to you." Now say that line again with a sexy British accent.

Mr. Brit and I end up spending that following Sunday together...outdoors. We then go back to my apartment to bake cookies. I know, so domestic of me. I can't stop thinking about him, even when I'm with him. I keep stopping myself because this is not what's suppose to happen. I'm suppose to fuck them and leave them. Brit is nothing I'm looking for. He's younger, he's not financially stable, and his VISA could expire any day. But I haven't had anyone look at me the way he does in a really long time.

I guess I will just go with the flow...

Mr. Brit

Months ago, I met a cute British guy during a job-related event. He had sexy light brown/hazel eyes, amazing skin, and the hottest accent accompanied by a sexy deep, shy voice. Mr. Brit was a part-time club promoter and got my number to inform me of various club events. I did think we had a connection but I figured that he was also just doing his job. Fast forward to last night, again on Facebook, Brit and I start having an online conversation about Melrose Place. It's a pretty hilariously embarrassing analysis of the show. He then continues the conversation by texting me random Melrose Place thoughts throughout the night. After a few exchanges, he suggests that we meet up in person. We settle on a date and time and I get a little nervous since I haven't seen him in months.

After having sex with Magic Stick, I take a quick shower and get ready for my first date with Brit. We meet at my favorite sushi restaurant and I am pleasantly surprised that he is actually cuter than I remembered. Brit has an interesting sense of style; it's a combination of urban and preppy. This time, he's wearing a beige thermal shirt with dark jeans and white sneakers. I can see that he has nice toned shoulders and arms through his fitted shirt. The best thing about Brit other than his accent is his eyes. They're very bright, like a sheet of glass is painted over his eyeballs. When he looks at me, it's hard not to look back.

We have pleasant conversation at lunch and continue our date by day drinking at various bars. Brit is adorably shy but has a witty sense of humor. We talk about our families, career goals, friends, and his justifiable hatred of shell fish. Specifically prawns. I also find out that he is 2 years younger than me. What is it with me and these young ones lately?! After our 5 hour date, Brit walks me home and I hug him good night.

I'm not head-over-heels, but I am intrigued. I've never slept with a European before. Stay tuned.

Mr. Magic Stick

I am happy to announce that after weeks of too flaccid, too sloppy, and too fast, I've finally found the magic stick. Last night, I Facebook chatted with a guy who I've only known through friends. He's actually Nooner's roommate. I've always been semi-attracted to him: he's very tall and very athletic. We had a moment a while back where he squeezed my ass on the dance floor. I knew then that we would hook up eventually. Meaning, when he and I both become single. So the chat started off very innocent and all of a sudden turned into him alluding to us "making love." Nothing that bold, but close enough. With this in mind, I invited him out to join me and a couple of friends for drinks.

We have been drinking for hours and eventually, people begin to leave. This leaves me and the guy. We end up going to a neighborhood bar and continue our drinking. With each sip, we get a little closer. At around 3:00am, we are full on making out. He gets the check and we head to my place. I have some hesitations since he is Nooner's roommate, but all these hesitations go away once he starts kissing me.

Open door. Undress. Caress. Suck. Finger. Bring out the cock. Wow, it's big. And hard. Very hard. I can't wait for it to be inside of me. He penetrates and I am in heaven! I haven't had such a sufficient cock to fill my pussy in a very long time. At this point, I think I've hit the jackpot with Mr. Magic Stick. We fuck for what seems like hours in every which position imaginable. Magic Stick maneuvers me around like a doll and I love that! He knows all the right angles to get at my G-spot. For example, the boring missionary style turns amazing when he props up my ass with his hands. Oh, how sex with all the other guys pales in comparison to Magic Stick.

Next day Magic Stick wakes me up with his penis. He fucks me from behind and from the side. He cums and we take a break. Half an hour later, we're ready to go again. Magic Stick does me from a side angle with my one leg propped up. He then turns me and fucks me from the side with my legs closed. I've seen this shit in porn and trust me, it's pretty good in real life.

We both get tired and fall back asleep. I realize I have a lunch date at 1pm (tell you guys more in another post), so we both get dressed and Magic Stick kisses me good bye.

Now that's one dick I want to see again.

Brooklyn, encore

Brooklyn booty texted me tonight at around 11pm. I figured why not, so I invited him over. He had just gotten off work and seemed a little grumpy. Stupid 22-year-olds, they're so moody. We watch a little bit of TV and he finally loosens up. Brooklyn reveals to me, albeit defensively, that he's an electrician/door man for a residential building on the upper east side. He quickly follows it with, "But I won't be doing that forever." Honestly, blue collar guys fulfill a certain fantasy for me. You know, the "excuse me, the power went out, can you come and service me?" kind of fantasy. So, I don't mind it so much. At this point, he could be high school janitor and I wouldn't give a shit. A good lay is a good lay.

Fast forward. We have sex successfully but too quickly because "I just want you so bad." Boo. Then we try again later and I finally orgasm once I get on top. Brooklyn makes me a pipe out of aluminum foil and part of a pen. We smoke weed and fall asleep. I realize I snore loudly. Oops, can't help it.

We wake up in the morning and have some satisfying, but quick morning sex. I kinda enjoy his fingers more than his cock. You know what that means? Time to move on.

Next!

Mr. Brooklyn

I go to my usual dance class taught by my friend and we decide to go to a local bar for some drinks.  Keep in mind, I am a sweaty hot mess and am definitely not in the condition to be on the prowl.  My friend and I get a little tipsy and we end up dancing our asses off at the back of the bar.  This is a fratty upper east side bar so it is no surprise that people are just watching us like spectators at a zoo.  

As the night goes on, I start seeing groups of cute guys trickling in.  This is kinda exciting for a week night.  I stop in the restroom to wipe off my sweat.  As I come out of the restroom, a boy is coming out of the men's restroom and stops to say, "You're a really good dancer."  I smile and notice a cute 6'1" Irish boy standing before me, clean cut face and hair, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, and the most adorable smile wrinkles.  I also notice that he is probably not a day over 24.  I immediately start talking to him and we end up taking multiple shots.  In between the shots, we give each other short facts about ourselves.  I find out he's from Brooklyn.  Well, hello Mr. Brooklyn.

We get wasted and start making out.  It's been a while since I've kissed a guy this tall and I forget how much it turns me on.   Not only is Brooklyn totally cute, he's also got this boyish charm that brings out the cougar in me.  It also helps that he's friends with the bar manager and is continuously feeding me and my friends drinks.

Brooklyn and I dance until I have no more energy, I grab his hand and say, "You're coming home with me."  We hop into cab and Brooklyn and I can't keep our hands off of each other.  Finally at my apartment, we stumble onto my bed, clothes come off, and we're prepped to go.  Brooklyn is surprisingly aggressive, in an amateurish sort of way.  Not smooth, but so willing to try.  Brooklyn does pretty good foreplay, full of passionate grabbing and even some minor choking.  Never thought I'd be into that.  Then comes the moment of truth.  He puts on the condom and I'm in ready position.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, unlike the Brooklyn Bridge, Brooklyn is not erect.  And for the next 4 hours, we go through over 6 condoms, each time thinking that he is hard enough and then to find out he's not.  The upside to being with a younger man (BTW, I find out he's 22), is that he's so willing.  He wants to keep pleasuring me even when he knows he can't do it with his cock.  So different from Mr. Pull-Out who had an "as-is" cock.

Although we have 1000 failed attempts at having sex, I do enormously enjoy my time spent with Brooklyn.  We end up knowing more about each other than I do some of my friends.  He also puts on this "hard" Brooklyn front that I can easily break down.  We get each other and find one another hilarious.  Not to mention his passion for dogs and his family makes me want to spend time with him sans sex.

Brooklyn spends most of the next day in my bed.  He tells me that he's enjoyed his time with me.  The feeling is mutual.   We then exchange numbers and he kisses me good-bye.  I'm actually looking forward to seeing him again.  Even if he is 6 years my junior.

Oh BTW, Brooklyn likes pulling my hair.  I like it, too.  But I did not like seeing piles of my hair on my bed afterwards.

Mr. Friend makes surprise visit

It's a beautiful day in Manhattan, one of those days where you want to spend the day drinking and the evening having sex.  I spend much of the day with a former crush who now has a live-in girlfriend.  There's hours of flirting and teasing, just enough to get me in my "hunt" mood.  As soon as former crush leaves, I flip through a mental rolodex of go-to "fuck me" buddies.  Damn, they have either moved away or are now in relationships.  Booo.

I get home half way tipsy and try to distract myself with Facebook.  Around 1am, I get a text.  1am texts are always a good sign, wouldn't you agree?  Ahhh, it's Mr. Friend.  He's in town from LA for only one night.  I immediately invite him over, we smoke some weed, and dive into an evening of much needed grabbing, touching, screaming, and fucking.

Must be my lucky night.

Guy friends...

I used to pride myself on having an abundance of guy friends. I always went out with groups of guys, and they took care of me. But now that I am single, going out with a bunch of guys just doesn't have the same benefits anymore. Simply put: they vagina block me.

Don't get me wrong, I love being the girl who gets all the attention in a group of guys. I also love being "one of the guys." But when I am not interested in hooking up with any of them, they almost seem like a burden! How sad is that?!

So, my next quest is to find single girls I can hang out with in the city. I'm hoping for not too much drama, a la The Hills.

Who makes love any more?

A few weeks ago, I was eating dinner with a good friend and a couple she knew walked in and sat next to us.  The girl started to tell us about the fireplace she has in her new apartment with a bear skin rug in front of it.  Her boyfriend (of 2 months) added, "we made love on it."  In total disgust of the phrase "make love," I turned to my friend and said, "Who makes love anymore?  People fuck."  

Last weekend when I was getting frisky with Mr. Pull-Out, he thought it would be a good idea to say, "I want to make love to you."  I slapped him on the head and blurted out, "I'm ready for us to fuck."  

Now, maybe I've clearly become a man about sex and relationships, but seriously...who makes love anymore?  Have you seen the positions we engage in when we're doing the dirty?  That shit ain't love, that's pure ecstasy.  If you played the game "which one doesn't belong?", I think it's pretty clear which one doesn't in this list of actions: doggy-style, suck cock, lick pussy, pinch nipple, cum on face, and love.  

When I think of people "making love," I think butterflies are coming out of vaginas as rainbows are shooting out of assholes.  Alas, that's not what happens.  So let's just call it what it is and try not to sugarcoat it anymore.  Besides, I'm not looking for love, so why bother making it?

Mr. Friend

I made the mistake of telling this one friend about my blog before sleeping with him. So I promised I wouldn't write about him. All I can say is we had some overdue sex that was bound to happen sooner or later. Although I was tired, I still found the energy to act on some lingering sexual chemistry. It was the day before I left LA, and we made it a point to get 2 good sessions in. All worth the wait, Mr. Friend. All worth it.

To count or not to count?

While having my weekend fuckathon, I paused to think about how many guys I've slept with.  When I lost my virginity at the age of 16, I thought I would never sleep with more than one person my entire life.  When I got to college, I said I wouldn't go past 5.  Now, I'm losing count.  A brief moment of guilt hit me when I shamed myself for being such a whore since the breakup.  However, I thought about it again.  How is sleeping with lots of men different than sleeping with just one person all the time (given that you're using protection each time)?  Well, I guess the only difference is it would feel new and exciting every time vs. the old boring shit with one person.  

So I feel better.  I don't need to keep count anymore 'cause that number doesn't mean much.  

Mr. Elevator

Continued from the last entry...

I leave Mr. Pull-Out's room with every intention to go back to my room to sleep. I step into the elevator with tunnel vision, not paying attention to the other person. I'm actually wondering why the hell this person's up at 6:30am. All of a sudden, I hear in the hottest Australian accent, "Hey, are you hungry." I turn to my right, and leaning against the wall is a tall Aussie with big blue eyes, full (and separate) eyebrows, messy dirty blond hair, and a chiseled jawline. He's wearing a button down shirt tucked into fitted jeans, staring at me with a sultry yet "I party hard" look. In my head I'm thinking, "Am I hungry? No. When was the last time I orgasmed? I can't fucking remember." So I pretend to think about it for a second and say, "Yeah, let me go change my shoes." Ahhh, my second victim for the night, Mr. Elevator.

Elevator follows me to my room and waits outside. I go inside and tell my friends that I just picked up a guy in an elevator. Before I could even explain, I put on my flip flops and bolt for the door. As we walk to the elevator, I realize that I still have my panties in my clutch. Oh well, it'll be a nice surprise for him. The elevator door opens. OMG, the sister-in-law of the bride is in there. I'm in the exact same outfit as the night before at the wedding and she is seeing me go in with a guy who was obviously not at the wedding. And of course, we all get off on the same floor. I awkwardly say bye to her as she watches me go into this stranger's room. Classy.

We get into his room and introduce ourselves after making out for a bit. I find out that he's moving from Australia to LA. He turns on some music and pulls me up from the couch to dance. Elevator starts kissing my neck and all I can think about is if he can taste Mr. Pull-Out on my body. He takes my hands and leads me to bed. I am a little tired at this point so I say, "I thought we were just having breakfast." Elevator grabs the room service menu and I point to a fruit salad and half a grapefruit. After he orders, we engage in some pre-sex convo. Surprisingly, he is extremely witty and intelligent. I find out that he owns a web marketing company that optimizes search engine results for companies. I also find out that we're about the same age and that he's sick of meeting the typical air-headed LA blonde. "You're so different from any of the girls I met tonight. I can actually talk you." Elevator then makes his way to the bed and begins to unzip my dress (wow this dress has seen a lot of action tonight!). He makes his way down my thighs, then suddenly, there's a knock at the door. It's room service.

We eat our fruit and Elevator asks me if I have any requests for music. We both simultaneously say "How about Jason Mraz". Weird. He starts playing some JM while I feed him some pineapples. It's all very tropical feeling, like in "How Stella Got Her Groove Back." He then takes the fruit tray away and comes back onto the bed to finish what he started. At this point, I've already figured out every guy's' formula. 1) Caress inner thighs. 2) Gently brush against the vagina outside of panties (in my case, no panties, so just direct contact. Bold). 3) Use free hand to caress the breasts until nipples are hard. 4) Squeeze breasts while penetrating with fingers. 5) Suck on nipples until girl gets in ready position. Formula works every time. Men have it so easy.

Elevator takes off his clothes and reveals a jaw-dropping body. Rippled abs and athletic arms, oh my! If he isn't a soccer player, he could definitely pass as one. His penis is long and very erect. How did I become so lucky to have 2 hot bodies in one night?! I turn to face him and ask him for protection. He nods and immediately grabs a condom from his bed post, rips it open, and puts it on in one smooth motion. Wow, I am both impressed by his efficiency and disgusted by his too-familiar routine. He must have had a fuckathon himself.

He spreads my legs and smoothly penetrates me. I scream in ecstasy and also relief. It has been too long! Elevator truly lives up to his name by firmly staying up. I ask to ride him (I can always come this way). He lifts me up and flips me onto him. I start riding him intensely and come almost immediately. Mmmmmm, momma needed this. Elevator is still hard but he pulls out anyway after knowing I came. How nice of him. We finish eating some fruit and now he wants an egg benedict. He puts in his order and starts back up again by guiding me flat onto my stomach with my legs closed, and penetrates from behind. Then, he twists me to my right so I'm on my side and my legs tangled. Wow, this is new, I got a Kama Sutra professor here. By now, this all feels good and dandy, but I know I can't come again. So, I pull away and he comes almost on cue. 

We talk some more about what kind of food we like eat. He tells me funny stores of his travels around the world. We share the same views about relationships, marriage, and commitment. Only difference is, he wants kids and I don't. Elevator says he's always wanted a son. We then talk about how he just got out of a 2.5 year relationship, his longest ever. He is so unlike anything I've ever met before. I'm digging this guy and it's dangerous. Suddenly, we hear the door open. Elevator bolts up, puts the room service menu over his penis, and says "wait wait wait." It's his friend. They whisper and chuckle outside. I'm sure it went something like this, "I picked up a girl in the elevator..." He comes back into the room with a bottle of vodka. Random.

A minute later, room service is here again. Elevator doesn't care to put on clothes. He again hides his wanker with the menu and answers the door. All I hear is, "Hi sir, here's the food you ordered...oh, um, you think you'll be able to carry it with one hand? OK, you got it? Be careful. Thanks sir. Enjoy and have fun." He sets it down onto the bed and digs in. We take bets on this mysterious looking thing on his plate. He proposes, "If I'm right, we have sex now. If you're right, we have sex in 30 minutes." This guy is the energizer bunny; it's tiring me out just thinking about it. His wit continues to win me over as our conversation progresses. He's so funny that I have no witty responses. Usually, I am good at flirty banter, but this bloke is so charming, I am speechless.

Elevator pushes the tray aside and comes next to me in bed. He's ready to go again. I tell him I'm amazed by his stamina. "But I have an attractive woman in my bed, can you blame me?" Nice one, mate. I complain that I am too tired and I fall asleep in his arms.

It's 9:30am, I wake up and decide I need to go back to my room. I get up and fumble around for a minute. Elevator wakes up and says, "Are you leaving me your number?" Me: "Oh, you didn't ask for it." El: "So you just wanted it to be a one time thing?" Me: "Well, no. Let's hang out again. Here's my number." I kiss good bye and leave.

The elevator opens, one of the groomsmen who had hit on me the night before is standing there. "I see you're still in the same outfit, huh? Walk of shame?" Me: "No, nothing like that."

What was it with me and elevators today?!

Mr. Pull-Out

Yes, it has been a dry spell.  The last time I had sex was with Nooner and his lazy cock.  But don't fear, I made up for it this past weekend at a wedding in LA.

They say weddings are great places for singles...well I would say weddings are great places for horny singles, not for singles looking for love.  In other words, perfect for moi.   It's a beautiful Saturday evening and I am scoping out the crowd.  I don't see anything that catches my interest other than the open bar.  About 4 hours later, I don't see faces anymore.  Just penis (it's my x-ray vision, pretty amazing when I'm wasted).  I dance from one penis to the next and finally settle for one at the end of the evening.  His face is a blur but I can hear him say, "Come back with me."  I call over the bride and groom to ask for their opinion, they give me their highest recommendation.  Well, OK, he'll do.  

We stumble back to his one bedroom suite at the hotel and immediately engage in a passionate lip-lock.  I drop my clutch, and he unzips my strapless dress.  Easy off.  He starts slowly kissing down my neck and unhooks my strapless bra.  I suddenly remember his name - good, it'll be easy to scream it later.   He leads me to bed and sweetly caresses my body.  "You have a beautiful body."  "You're so sexy."  As much as I enjoy the attention, I don't know what to say back other than, "Thanks."  I must expand my bed-side vocabulary.

There is something different about his touch than the rest of the guys.  Something sensitive and less "let's fuck."  For a mere second, I actually thought we had feelings for each other.  Then I slap myself back into reality and say, "Fuck me, [his name]."  In pure excitement, he tears off his clothes.  I get a better look at him since I am somewhat sobering up.  He's a handsome man probably in his early to mid-40's.  His body, however, is that of a 20-year-old's.  Nice ripped arms and abs, firm ass.  I could definitely get used to this body.  I find out he's some sort of a doctor, but I don't care to inquire.  What if he says he's a Gastroenterologist?  That would totally ruin the mood.

He reaches for a bottle of lotion to lube up his penis.  I get in ready position and asks him for protection.  He says he doesn't have any but "I can pull out."  I respond, "How old are you, I am not risking a pull-out."  "Don't worry baby, I was married for 16 years and couldn't get my wife pregnant.  I must be shooting blanks."  I stare at him in pity.  "Come here next to me, we'll cuddle."  By then, I've decided to call him Mr. Pull-Out.  

He tells me that he was in a marriage for 16 years with a woman who was depressed and had mental issues.  She recently packed all her stuff and moved to another city, without any warning.  Pull-Out tells me he loved her very much and endured years of mental instability.  I can tell that he still loves her and is deeply traumatized by her leave.  I cradle him in my arms and we fall asleep.

An undetermined amount of time later, I wake up to the sound of knocking.  I look next to me and Pull-Out is gone.  I realize he is so drunk he has locked himself in the bathroom and doesn't know how to get out.  OMFG!  About 10 minutes later, he finally figures out the unlock button.  Here I am, a 20-something shaking my head at this grown 40-something man.  It must be true, men will never grow up.

Pull-Out comes back to bed and I am ready to go again.  I do my usual maneuver of rubbing ass against penis.  His penis responds back.  Pull-Out works his way down my body with a determined trail of kisses.  I know where this is headed, oral sex.  Men usually like to make a grand entrance down there with gestures that say, "Trust me, I'll be good."  I am not a big fan of oral sex (giving or receiving) but I figure maybe he would be different.  2 minutes later, I am bored.  The tongue just doesn't penetrate as deeply as I prefer.  So, I pull him up for breath and immediately push his mouth onto my breasts.  He firmly grabs my ass and works his way to fingering.  Much better.  I am so turned on at this point that I talk myself into letting him penetrate.  Even for a second.  I open my legs and he makes a move.  Ugh, it's flaccid.  Pull-Out is in the same league as Nooner.  I think to myself, "His wife put up with this for 16 years?" And "Why doesn't he take Viagra?!"  In frustration, I flip him over on his back and start giving him a hand job.  He sucks on my nips while using his nails to slowly scratch my back, up and down.  I've never felt this sensation, but it is fucking good.  He seems hard again so we flip back around, and he goes for it.  He grabs my ass tightly and pulls me up for more leverage.  We go at it until I think he's about to explode.  Not trusting that Pull-Out is actually going to pull out, I push him off of me and roll to my side.  I realize that without protection, I'm not going to be satisfied tonight so I get up.  Pull-Out grabs my arm and begs me in to stay in bed.  I continue to collect my clothes and in a rush, throw my panties into my clutch.  He asks, "Please leave me your number."  I turn around and respond, "If you really want to call me, you'll find a way."

I blow him a kiss, give him an over-the-shoulder smile, and leave.  I've always wanted a dramatic good-bye.  Done!

But stay tuned, this is not the end of my night...

Dating = thrift store shopping

While shopping at a thrift store with my friend, I realized how similar it is to dating.  There are two types: 1) the young, hip, in-season store like Buffalo Exchange or 2) the mature, sophisticated, high-end store like Tokio 7 here in NYC.  

Nooner is your poster child for the Buffalo Exchange type.  He's young, on-trend, and barely worn.  But he's so trendy, you might be excited about him one day and have buyer's remorse the next.  He's also generic, disposable, just good for going out, and may need to be worn in a little.  This type has had just a few previous owners.  He looks great, but his seams could come undone any day.  It's hard to predict.

Then there's Uni, the Tokio 7 type.  He's classic, sophisticated, and has the potential to make you look like a million bucks.  But he's so old, you might feel gross touching him.  He's also one-of-kind, hard to dispose of, only good for special occasions, and may be a little too worn in.  This type has definitely had many previous owners; may also have been treated like shit.  He's made of high quality, but you wonder why nobody has taken him home yet.  There's always a good reason.

Now, if only I could find a store somewhere in between those two.  

Follow me on Twitter!

Now you can follow the action as it happens.  Follow me: twitter.com/ReadyPosition

Mr. Uni

I was drunk at a friend's bachelor party (yes, girls were allowed) and met a tall, older gentleman.  Although I was obliterated, I still remember a couple of my friends encouraging me to date rich, older men.  Try it on for size if you will.  So with an open mind, I decided to accompany my older gentleman for an hour.  With my beer goggles, I remember seeing a very tall man (around 6'5"), dark features, and a large nose.  He had an old, soulful voice.  I was not attracted but we did have hilarious conversation about who the hell knows.  I gave him my card and left to throw up.

A few days later, he called and asked to take me to dinner.  Dollar signs in my eyes, I agreed.  So tonight, we met at a cute French restaurant on the upper west side.  I dressed "mature" for my age in hopes making our 1st public appearance not too awkward for onlookers.  I show up fashionably late and there he is, a tall...dark...dad??  Yes, I was drunk, but I could swear he wasn't this old!  He stands up to greet me with his 6'5" frame (at least I got that part right) and I immediately gasp at his not-to-be-missed unibrow.  Thus, we call him Uni.  

Uni may be older than my dad.  I'm not sure.  I try not to think about it.  He introduces me to his friend and also owner of the restaurant, who is a gray-haired man well into his 50's.  We are led to our "romantic" table for 2.  Uni talks to me about his numerous brothers, his work, and his love for steak.  Meanwhile, all I can do is examine the wrinkles on his face, his loose skin, and his sagging eyelids.  Uni also has this Marlon Brando-like voice that soothes and scares me at the same time.

Now I've gone too far.  In my quest to date as many men as possible, I apparently lost all of my standards.  I quickly finish my dinner and pretend to be calm, collected, and confident.  I stay a little after dinner to chat with him and his buddy, and Uni walks me to the subway.  He wants to see me again.  I tell him I'm going away for a really long time.  

As I walk home from the subway, I text my girlfriends "It was like dating my dad, except my dad is better looking."