make me purr

We went out this weekend to our usual haunt. She’s lost some weight, and was looking incredible. I looked ok, but not anything that special.

Lo and behold, as soon as we got there, one of the most attractive boys in our little social circle (and he’s single, and he’s bi) started rubbing up against me - so much so that I was wondering just how drunk he was.

Over the course of the night the three of us discussed all kinds of future possibilities…

Nothing happened that night, but it’s kind of been on my mind. He needs a place to stay pretty soon. We could use a houseboy. Even if absolutely nothing sexual happened between the three of us on satin sheets after a few glasses of red wine, a collective back massage that turns into something more… erm, yeah. Even if nothing happens, I could use a hand around here. He can cook, he can help with gardening… and he’s really, really pretty.

Still, I’m puzzled why he chose to hit on us. He could snap his fingers and have so many prettier, younger people all over him - why the cougar types who are in a relationship with each other?

eh. Might have been something in the water - another friend of ours was rubbing up against me too… remind me to wear that perfume again this weekend.

As Bowie said, “I don’t want to go out, I want to stay in….”

I could go out tonight. *We* could go out tonight. I don’t care. I would, however, like to talk her into wearing a short miniskirt and fishnets for a little while, and flirt with her. We haven’t gone out clubbing in a while. I have a little headache, but I could get over it. I’d like to feel pretty - and then I’d like to pounce on her and make her scream. It’s been at least a month since I did anything of note *to* her.

I had to tell him “But that’s where I keep my favorite dildo!”

That friend was actually talking about my bank and my money. I don’t have a lot of it, so I’m not all that concerned. However, I never did take an econ class - if I have a loan with a bank and the bank curls up and dies like an ant that’s been sprayed, what happens to the loan? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?

I suppose I can always hope.

It’s been a sexy, sexy week around here. A friend had a little birthday party, got a little wasted, and proved the old theory true about straight girls acting bi when they are drunk.

She kissed one gay guy, one straight guy, at least two girls (whose sexuality I don’t know), felt up my boobies, felt up my sweetie’s boobies, and declared she preferred mine. While I was barely involved in the kissing and groping, I *did* have the foresight to grab my camera this time, and even remembered extra batteries.

Then we went home, just my sweetie and I, and tried to get it on…but, alas, she passed out before we got very far. I think I wasn’t far behind her, either.

Recently found a tentacle-shaped vibrator online. Don’t remember where, but I want one. Hear that, caustic? TENTACLE! woot

I was going to write about the cornbrator, which is a toy I have never had the pleasure to try: I’ve only seen it online.

Then I remembered that someone recently called me a libertine. I returned the compliment with a dark red, lipsticked sneer -or maybe it was a smear. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter, I was probably on my second Black Orchid by then.

      Black Orchid (approximately…I’m not quite sure what goes in it, but this is close to how they make it where I go)

      equal parts Gin, Vodka, Tequila, and Rum over ice in a pint glass

      add some chambord for color and a bit of 7-up, and a cherry on top.

I guess it’s like an Adios MotherFucker, but purple.

Anyway, back to the cornbrator. I ran into photos of this on a website recently. Reminded me of a certain candle I had a mad affair with. See, I went through a time when I not only couldn’t afford sex toys, but even if I could, I was too shy to get them. I did, however, have a very respectable candle collection.

One day on my way to work, I wandered past a store that was getting rid of seasonal items. Among those items was  a candle shaped like an ear of corn. Not as large, but covered with the little nubs. I stopped right there, suddenly hot and damp and blushing a little. I  ran in and bought it, and scampered off to work with my new love. I could hardly wait to get home - the day dragged on and on, and while I thought about taking a break and running off to the women’s room, well, I knew better…. Finally I got home, slid that sweet, sweet candle into a condom (it was painted, and I didn’t want that paint coming off in awkward places) and fully enjoyed myself.  I don’t remember what happened to it - I just know I don’t have it anymore. I probably wore it out and squeezed it into some unrecognizable form. Once those nubs wore down I wouldn’t have had much use for it anyway.