You have no one to blame but yourself.

I'm so tired of beating myself up about boys, work, life, boys, my husband, boys and um...boys.

I'm going back to the way I was with him months ago - to the sext equivalent of the high school note: "do you like me? circle yes or no".

From here on out, my only response to your text messages will be "do you want to fuck me, yes or no?" Nothing more, nothing less.

That emotions even entered the equation is just silly and juvenile.

missing...

...one South Carolina-born, South Florida-raised Texan.

Oh wait.

Here I am.

Nothing of consequence has gone on, I've just been busy with this "career" business.

If it's exhausting starting out at damn near 40 then I can't imagine what it's like starting a 'real' career in your 20s and 30s.

I've been sleeping on my sofa lately. I can't decide if I'm just tired of sleeping in my bed because it was 'ours', or because I need a new one. Either way, until the promotion kicks in, I think my living room is my new home.

I get very lonely sometimes - especially around this time of year, so I guess it's a good thing I'm so busy with my budding career and friends and family and stuff.

But if anyone knows a nice boy in my part of the country...

'fess up

which one of you is playing the jackasshole 'make a chippendale dancer call me' game?

waiting sucks.

i hate waiting for him. his 'i'll be there in a few days, if not tomorrow' loosely translates to 'i'll be there when i get there...and then i'll text you'.

it really shouldn't bother me. it never has before.

cock withdrawal sucks.

releasing the bitter

i've been releasing a lot of pent up bitterness on this blog of late.

i'm working to recenter myself not only with writing, but with yoga and a little mediation.

it must be working, 'cause i'm feeling the urge to write the long overdue "i got laid and i'm sharing jaw dropping details" entry. it's time i got back to what I do best:

talk about my sex life. it happens far less often than when i lived in FL, but i've only been in TX a coupla years, and for the first year or so i was working from home so i never met anyone. don't get me wrong, there are a few guys, but not like my hometown. i'd grown up there. the dudes *get* me, and i them. sex was easy and literally a phone call away to any one of a number of guys. generally really good sex.

out here, notsomuch. guys don't get that there are women that exist solely to have a good time. one night stands are not a dirty word (which usually leads to more than just one night), anal sex is a must, and the kinkier/dirtier the better.

but we do exist, and The Naked Boy is fortunate enough to understand that. at one point we were in bed spooning, his cock buried in my ass, one hand pulling my hair in the way that makes me squirt, while he bit my back. that led to one of many, many orgasms over the next several hours. for both of us.

sex is not awkward with him, not even the awkward moments. like the times when my legs all but give out from his pounding me from behind at just that right angle, but my thighs start to shake after 15 minutes of hardcore pounding--the kind that would cause me to squirt had enough to push his cock out of me. he is always very caring and concerned when i have to stop--mostly i just need to change positions and have a sip of water.

the breaks are not unusual for us, as we tend to fuck for hours. i'm his hideaway, he tells me, and i must be a good one 'cause even though he's not around often, when he is here he's here for hours and doesn't want to leave.

i could wax poetic about how our bodies contour each other's perfectly. i am completely comfortable with him. we have real conversations about stuff and like a lot of the same shit. but the reality is he's never in town for very long, so going out isn't a priority. it's at this point that i become his piece of ass (that his band is very well aware of, mind you) when he's here.

:::shrug:::

the sex is *that* fucking good that it's worth the randomness of it all.

hottest pick up line *ever*

"I want to smell our sex on your skin while we sleep"

--text msg from Houston

the perfect date

rough sex and zombie movies.

:::sigh:::

and they think we're nuts?

I've had my fill of boys for a while, I think.

This weekend started out promising, and quickly devolved into a comical missed nonportunity, the promise of good things to come, a stalker, good things heading south for the evening, followed by a blast from my (recent) past.

We (Jes, DustyBalls and The Criminally Hot Brother, aka TCHB [not to be confused with Hot Jewish Rocker Dude, aka HJRD]) went to Dallas for Nellie's wedding. Three long hours of DustyBalls and TCHB talkin' redneck shit talk. It was adorable.

Have I mentioned I live in Texas? That I'm acclimating well enough to find hot redneck shit talkers adorable, I'm also still east coast enough to realize that they are still rednecks and I can make fun of them to their faces...they actually get the jokes. And I take Jew jokes from them all the time. Fair game.

Anywho.

Super high, Waco, bathrooms, mothering TCHB in an effort to smooth into some mild flirting, wedding, sun, beer, more pot, cigarettes (ah, but they were the last for real this time), food, hotel, shower, hanging out with the bride and groom, beer, pizza and Quick and the Dead.

TCHB and I share a bed. Nothing happens. No cuddling, no morning wood pressed into my back. It was literally like sharing a bed with one of my brothers. Jes, Dusty and I tease him mercilessly about his lack of ass play. It's really nice to have dudes with whom I can have sexual conversation and them not be all up in my shit. In my heart I truly do belive he's my Austin HJRD (and if you don't have one of these in your life, you *must* get one. His fabulous. And deserves fabulousness).

Besides, TCHB is a manwhore and always has 2-3 girlfriends floating about him.

He also seems to be somewhat of a good luck charm, since I was poking him in the ribs when a text message came in from Houston (formerly Naked Boy on myspace). He's coming to town, wants to destroy my ass, etc and so forth.

yay!

Of course I don't hear from him for hours on end and then he's trying to find a place for his friend and his dog. In the interim, I have texted St. Louis to tell him I am horny. I do not expect a response.

He fucking responds. Hesitantly, standoffish and snobbish at first, but he responds. He's so weird. I think he's trying to teach me a lesson, 'cause I've been the aggressor of late. He's not very good at taking the reigns--winds up driving all the way over here, demanding that i open the gate for him so he can come over and i can ride him.

Um, no, and I've already explained this to him so when he knocks on my door I don't answer. I never let him in--he waited for someone to open the gate and snuck in. It kind of freaked me out so when I got a random text message from some vaguely familiar number came through i got defensive.

"Is this The Music Dude?", I cautiously texted. He'd just quit me a month or so ago, and it was then that I'd learned of a little situation i like to call 'the wife' (yes I was pissed, but had already plotted revenge. it backfired).

"How many Music Dudes do you know?", he texted back.

I told him I needed to talk to him, that I *knew*, and that he shouldn't think I'd stalked him to find the info. I further explained that he'd only needed to be honest with me. Hell, he'd made me jump through hoops to prove my loyalty and I had believed that he was being honest with me from the get go.

It ultimately made no difference. He thought I went psycho girl on him until I explained (once again, having to explain how I'm not like every other chick he knows) to him that i googled a band he works with + his name and came up with enough easy places that all plainly stated he was married.

When I told him it didn't matter 'cause I was gonna keep my end of the bargain and be discreet, he breathed a sigh of relief and made me beg him to come over. Of course I did...he's the best damned throat fucker I have ever met. Tonight he had me bent over the sofa, toy in my cunt and head hanging over the edge. The door was unlocked and i was a bit panicked about that, but who wouldn't be when they're splayed out like that? He fucked my mouth while he smoked a bowl, using my throat for his pleasure and then fucked me with my toy until I'd squirted several times while he rubbed his ass across my face.

He came down my throat, pulled me upright, and got dressed. He mused that it didn't take him very long to come back to my amazing mouth and then we casually chatted for a bit about my crazy 36 hours, his crazy week, the 'wife' thing, discretion and how I deserve amazing things. He's not gonna quit me, but it'll never be frequent.

I'm okay with that.

I was lamenting to HJRD about my lack of sex, and while I still haven't gotten laid, I've shared a bed with a hot dude, gotten an offer from Houston, got stalked, postponed Houston to tomorrow AND had my throat fucked by The Music Dude.

What the fuck kind of crazy ass clam did I open this time?