Details! We Have Details!

This isn’t exactly a word-for-word play-by-play; it’s to the best of my memory.

Well, it worked. Hot little red dress, which I paraded and pirouetted in front of Monsieur, and K and I went out after that to see this kinda Celtic/zydeco/square dance band, Zen Pig. Good dancing, loads of fun.

Before we left I had my first drink of the night and the first one in weeks, a whisky rocks, which I sipped slowly and the spilled a little bit of it on my chest. I wanted to smell like I might be a little tipsy.

When I got home, he was still awake so I asked him if he had waited up.

“No, no,” he said, “I just couldn’t sleep.”

I moved the conversation to me, again. “Monsieur, dear? Would you take me upstairs to bed?”

“How many drinks have you had?”

I rolled my eyes and I held up one finger. “Enough to throw myself at you and not be afraid of what you will do to me.”

“Maybe you should go to bed and we’ll talk about it later,” he said, getting up.

I dropped my dress, and stepped closer to him. I hadn’t worn a bra. I was in my panties and my heeled sandals.

He muttered something in French, and then he said, “If you are the worse for drinking, I would not forgive myself.”

And I said, “Well, if we don’t go to bed, I won’t forgive you. So decide now.” I ran my fingers inside the waistband of his shorts. “You just don’t want me, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t want you...”

“Don’t you like girls?” I pouted.

He laughed, in a feeble way. “Of course I like girls.”

“Well, is it OK if I just sit on your lap and play with myself?”

“You’re really serious?”

“Um, DUH.” I rolled my eyes. Then I kissed him. “A gentleman wouldn’t make a girl beg like this,” I whispered. (A line from Desire in the Threshing Field, a very bad play I was in.) “Should we go to your room or mine?”

“Well, [Littlest Boy] is in my bed,” he whispered.

I gushed my panties; I knew I had him.

---

Did I mention “yum”? Yum.

Practicing with “The Monster” helped, too. He sank into me, all 1/8 of a fathom in

One

Smooth

Stroke.

That’s as many details as I can give about that.

Oh, yeah, he did whisper “unbelievable” as he fucked my brains out. That made my head spin. He’s so good.

---

Afterwards, we talked a bit. He asked me what I “intend”.

(Geez, I don’t know!) “I intend to love you, and to care for your children.”

“Do you want more?” he asked in a whisper.

“That’s totally up to you, sweetheart. I will take what you give me, and smile.”

“I don’t know how ready I am, or whether I will be ready,” he replied.

I giggled. “You’re so wonderfully 17th century. Kiss me and hush.”

He did.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he said and I could tell he meant it.

“You’re wonderful. I’m a grown-up. I won’t let you hurt me too badly.”

I was going to make comparisons, just then, but for a second I totally forgot SH’s name – and I lived with him for a year! So I guess there’s no comparison.

Am I Really This Famous Homosexual?

Go and figure:

Which Famous Homosexual Are You?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

Soccer

I’m gonna take on a new assignment, in addition to the ones I already am struggling with. It seems Middle Boy has always wanted to play soccer but Mama couldn’t take him because of the mountain of commitments she already had.

I told him I’d be delighted to take him. There’s a group for the home schooled kids in this area and we went and checked it out. They meet at the Soccer Fields in the local central park. I got to talking to SK, one of the coaches, and she practically begged me to help coach when she found out I played in high school.

So, I’m now an assistant coach.

I even have a whistle.

¡¡¡TWEET!!!

The Plot Thickens: the Yearning Heart Picks Out a Dress

I have my dress all picked out. Please see that crazy scheme from a few days ago.

It’s short (of course), red, low neckline, flare skirt, and I’ll wear the strappy heeled sandals and my hair up.

I usually don’t wear perfume or anything but a bit of cologne will do nice.

K is up for it; she doesn’t know about my plan to drive D insane but she doesn’t need to. I think it will go over OK.

I hope it will.

My heart yearns.

Another Scheme

It’s been two and a half months since I last had it with D. It’s making me crazy. He’ll hug me once in a while, and he’ll give me a chaste kiss on occasion. Does he want me? I don’t think he does.

My friend DB says maybe he’s just hurting, I understand that. I can’t imagine what D’s going through. But, he’s still a man (and how) and I think he needs it more than he knows.

My new plan is to get all dress up and go out with my friend K, who works at the restaurant with me. She’s cute, funny and seems like fun. I’ll put on a hot little red dress and go out and tease guys, but I’ll be sure to show off for Monsieur first. Give him a litttle skirt twirl, that sort of thing.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Yet Another Blog

I’ve moved everything (for the past year) to yet another blog. Thanks, everyone, for following me to Blogspot from Typepad.

Actually, I have my doubts as to whether anyone reads this.

Identity Crisis

I wish I weren’t feeling so guilty about his chica that “Maggie” knew.

She’s an online buddy. Apparently she had a major thing with Maggie and naturally was nuts about her. Well, now she’s just nuts.

She thinks I’m Maggie; like, we’re the same person and have been all along.

At first I was shocked then I felt sorry for her. Poor thing; she really liked her - now she’s just delusional. Then it got annoying and then it made me angry.

The thing is, M kinda “recommended” this girl to me as a fun and imaginative online playmate. Having no experience with girls, I was curious and intrigued.

Also I figured that it was really M all along anyway, and she was playing a game with me.

Then I told her Maggie was gone, passed away.

So she just kinda did this weird 20 questions game, back & forth, back & forth and then, she came out and said, “oh quit playing, I’ve known you two were the same person all along.”

I was floored, and denied it in a very firm way.

She also entertained the suspicion that D is also me. (Did I tell you she was delusional?)

So I did a terrible thing. I said, ok I admit it. I’m Maggie, and you were right all along, and I did it because I’m confined to a wheelchair and I’m 63 years old.

Then we had cybersex. After that, I’ve ignored her and blocked all of her PMs.

That was in June.

I was angry. I was furious. She only liked me because she thought I was Maggie. What is wrong with being me? Why did she do that to me?

Now I regret it. I shouldn’t of led her on. She’s a person with feelings. Sigh.

I’m so stupid. I wish M were here.