I have no news to report at the moment. My life is very stable and calm, thank goodness, so as promised, I'll step back into my crazy past and post the story of how I wound up in a hotel room with my best friend, the daughter of the woman I was dating, and her best friend.
Displayed in the post "My History (2nd In A Series)" are the details of the torrid relationship between me and "Sarah," the woman I screwed on the side while dating "Karen." I mention some of the drama I went through with Sarah's 22-year-old daughter, "Elaine." If Sarah and I would have never become a serious couple, which we did only after I came begging to her for a shoulder to cry on after Karen fucked me over, I'm 100% positive that Elaine and I would have eventually hooked up. Not only did we have a lot of sexual energy between us, but the first time I ever saw her was when she came to her mom's house while Sarah was talking to me on her webcam, and very soon after, there they both were flashing me and pulling their pants down and bending over for me. (My best friend at the time, "Ronnie," happened to be at my place when this happened, and he was even more crazy for white pussy than I was, so as you will read later, seeing this display had an effect on him too.) For a long time I really thought that Elaine and I would fuck, and I wouldn't have been surprised, as kinky as Sarah was, if we one day had a threesome. It didn't hurt that Elaine was very fat and egg-shaped and, despite being engaged, didn't seem to have a high opinion of her desirability, which has always been a common mindset of the women who had relations with me. Elaine and her hot friend, "Talia," came up from Springfield, IL, with a male friend one weekend in 2004 just to hang out in the big city, and we did a lot of flirting in between everyone trying to convince me that Sarah would hurt me someday and she wasn't a great human being, which I didn't want to believe but would turn out to be true. Elaine and Talia even flashed me and their friend while we hung out on the beach. She pecked me goodbye on the lips as she dropped me back off at my apartment, and I got the feeling that if she were not with two other people hoping to go back home, she may have stayed with me a little longer that evening.
A little about Talia: I believe at the time she was 25, she was married, and she had four children, and I've since heard that she had a 5th child. I don't know how she got to the mental state that she did, but she basically did whatever floated into her pretty little head, whether that was fucking other guys, fucking other girls, or whatever. She and Elaine were lovers. And she was just about the nicest woman I ever met, too. She just seemed very dissatisfied with her life. She claimed that her marriage was an "open relationship," but I've always believed that no one really goes into marriage intending to ignore the vows right off the bat. If it turns out, however, that neither you or your partner can't survive without lovers on the side, then it becomes convenient to say that, well, "It's just an open relationship and we don't have boundaries." What the hell do you call marriage? That's a large boundary I believe, but as it's well documented, half of the couples that try it discover that they're not cut out for it with each other. Anyway, Talia was of mixed racial heritage, so she had exotic facial features, long wavy black hair, and large round tits with damn near the biggest areolas I've ever seen, so big that Sarah and Elaine showed me a picture of her topless the first time I visited Springfield just to marvel at them. She wasn't obese, but she had Cesarean sections for all of her child deliveries, so she had no abdominal muscle definition at all, just a spare tire of flab. She was still gorgeous as far as I was concerned, but I never thought I'd get a shot at her because her social calendar was so full, and because she seemed way out of my league.
Until that wild, insane summer night.
It's Saturday, July 24, 2004. Sarah's not coming up to Chicago that weekend. Two weeks prior, I fucked The Co-Worker Who Shall Remain Nameless for the first time, proving that I have no morals, I wasn't above cheating on Sarah, and that I was up for anything. But The Co-Worker and I weren't social buddies, so we weren't going to hang out that weekend. I had no plans. In between my loads of laundry, Elaine called that morning and informed me that she and Talia were going to drive up to Chicago that day and wanted to hang out like we did a couple of months prior when they came up with their male friend. But this time, she said, the male friend wouldn't be there. My mind raced with unscrupulous thoughts of what kind of stuff we three could get into. I said that I was looking forward to seeing them and hung up. Not very long after, Ronnie called and asked if I would have any interest in attending the bachelor party of a guy who was in a fantasy football league that Ronnie and I participated in. He said that the guy was hiring women from the same agency that sent us two girls for the football draft in 2003, and for $10 those girls allowed anyone to spray whipped cream on their tits or pussy and lick it off. I ate a LOT of whipped cream that night. So there was no doubt that I would be up for this event, but I asked Ronnie a question: Did he think the guy would mind if I brought two women to the party who both loved slutty women as much as the men did? When I told Ronnie that Elaine and her friend were coming to Chicago that night and they would probably love attending a party where whipped cream were being licked off of women's body parts, he had the same thoughts that I did--holy shit, what a hot, sexy night it would be if we popped in to an anything-goes bachelor party with two bisexual chicks. I called Elaine back and asked if they would be interested, and she was even hotter for the idea than me and Ronnie. It was fucking awn.
My camera was hanging from my neck when Elaine and Talia arrived at my apartment that evening. They were actually filling up the tank at the gas station a block away when they called, and I was so pumped for this night that I came to the station on foot before they could come pick me up. Ronnie had given me generic directions to the golf course where he was working until sundown, and we were to meet him there and then go to the party. But I wound up having to call Ronnie a couple of times to figure out where the hell we were going. On the way, while sitting in Elaine's back seat, I expressed in interest in seeing the tits that the ladies had flashed me the last time they were in Chicago, and somehow, my hands wound up inside both women's bras rubbing a nipple each as Elaine tried to drive somewhere she wasn't familiar. Hey, I actually asked (like a nerd) if they had a problem with me groping them, and they both said they liked it. When we finally made it, we had to walk through a gangway to get to the clubhouse area where he was, and then we spotted him. He had on his usual geekwear, tan shorts and an ugly shirt, but that didn't stop Elaine from being very friendly with him, and of course he was thrilled to meet a girl whose naughty bits he had seen on webcam already. Not wanting to show up to this shindig too early, we hung out on the patio of the clubhouse for about an hour shooting the shit as the sky turned black, then decided to have dinner. Ronnie convinced the girls to leave their car at the course and get in his back seat, and after dinner we'd come back to get their car and head to the bachelor party. It was such a sexually charged atmosphere that during the drive to the restaurant, the girls mentioned taking off their tops, Ronnie and I dared them, and in the blink of an eye, I turned from my passenger's seat to see both of them sitting there with their shirts and bras completely off, with these blank looks as if they didn't think there was anything strange at all about it. Ronnie could barely drive. I was just shocked. They sat like that for a good two or three minutes until Ronnie saw flashing lights and begged them to cover up or risk getting in trouble with the cops. (The lights were cops, but they were after someone else.)
After dinner, Elaine and I got into Ronnie's back seat while Talia sat up front. We didn't make out, but I did say "Now, where was I?" as I put my hand down her shirt again and she rubbed my boner through my jeans. We got back to Elaine's car, and I rode with the girls, giving them tit massages again as Elaine followed behind Ronnie to the bachelor party. It was past 10P when we arrived, and the strippers were not there yet. The guys inside were a little restless to say the least, and definitely a little mean: When Elaine offered herself and Talia as a warm-up act, the guy in charge of the party looked them up and down, sniffed and actually said out loud, "I don't think so." Elaine and Talia stepped outside right after that. Ronnie and I didn't know what to do, so we sat there for a little while muttering under our breath at the asshole who said such a cruel thing, then I stepped out to check on the girls. Elaine was smoking and cussing the guy out under her breath too, which was a normal reaction. But Talia was actually in tears. It turned out that she was very sensitive about her looks since the babies and the weight gain. I tried to console Talia, but she wasn't in a mood to be consoled. Elaine suggested that we get out of here since she really didn't want to be in the same building as that guy anymore, and that sounded like a great idea. But where to go at midnight on a Saturday? I went back in to talk to Ronnie about what our next move should be, and it dawned on me that with two vulnerable, horny, wild women, it shouldn't be too hard to convince them to get a room just to "hang out," and whatever happened from there happened. I was literally right in the midst of trying to tell Ronnie that they probably would be up for it when Elaine came back in the building and said they were going home unless we had other ideas. And then it got weird. When Ronnie brought up getting a room, Elaine said that sounded like a plan, and the woman I had flirted with and smooched and groped for several months playfully grabbed my best friend's junk as she walked out the door to tell Talia what the deal was. He looked at me stunned with his eyes bugged out as his manhood got hard right in front of me, and I'm thinking, GOOD GRAVY that was not something I ever needed to see. "Told you they'd be down for it!" I said, trying my damnedest to purge that image from my mind.
I didn't know how to feel at this point. Yes, Ronnie and I were in his car driving to the south suburbs to find a hotel with vacancy, and yes, two women seemingly willing to fuck one or both of us were following behind. I should have been thrilled, but I had conflicting feelings. I wasn't entirely comfortable with Elaine indicating that she would be willing to screw Ronnie mere hours after meeting him. I kinda felt like I had dibs on her with all the flirting we had done. I don't know if I wanted him to have Talia and I would take Elaine, or if I just wanted Elaine first and he could have my sloppy seconds, or if I thought I should be the one to fuck them both since I was the one they came to Chicago to have fun with originally. And yes, cheating on Sarah was in my mind as well. I felt guilty about that, but I was so spiritually empty at that time in my life that I wanted to fill my life with as much flesh as possible, thinking that was the way to feeling better about myself. Ronnie was so immature that what he had on his mind was calling his mother to tell her he'd be having a late night, and then it got weirder--he informed me that he had to go back to the city go get his mom the Sunday Sun-Times newspaper that is sold on Saturday nights, then he had to take it home to her before we found a room. I sat in Elaine's car outside Ronnie's house laughing at this turn of events, but there was no mutual tit-rubbing this time because Talia was still upset over the happenings at the bachelor party. I continued to try to console her and tell her that she was still hot, but she really didn't seem like she would be much fun the rest of the night. I think Elaine asked her at one point if she wanted to go home, but she said no. She probably didn't want to seem like a buzzkill. Eventually Ronnie came out of his house, I got back into his ride, we drove about twenty minutes south to a bunching of hotels, and after striking out on the first four or five attempts, we hit pay dirt. I got out and checked the availabilities of the rooms while Ronnie and the girls parked, and I made a decision that made the events that unfolded a little easier to digest than they may have been: I got two rooms instead of one. I also grabbed my camera. Dammit, I came out that night to get some wild action caught on film, and that's just what I was gonna do.
We all made our way up to one of the rooms with no plans as to what was going to happen. It was around 1:30A. Elaine, Talia, and I sat on the king-sized bed. Ronnie sat in a chair nearby. We nervously chatted for a few minutes. I pulled the nerdiest move of all time by turning on the TV because I didn't know what else to do. I think Ronnie and I actually started checking baseball scores. Finally, FINALLY, Elaine said out loud, "Well, you guys didn't pay for these rooms to sit here and talk," and with that, she shoved Talia on her back, took off her top and bra, and sucked her breasts, then she jumped off the bed, pulled her jeans and panties off, and started eating her out. Talia responded the last way I would have predicted--she grabbed a pillow and covered her head as if she were experiencing something awful. I responded by taking three pictures, two of Talia's awesome tits (although her covering her head with a pillow takes away from the beauty of those pics) and one of Elaine on her knees eating Talia's pussy. In the background of that last pic one can see Ronnie starting to put his hands on Elaine, since she happened to be kneeling next to the chair he was sitting in. Things moved fast from there--Elaine responded to Ronnie putting his hands on her by taking him to the upper part of the bed, pulling off his pants, and giving him the sloppiest-sounding blow job I've heard this side of Gianna Michaels. I took off the camera and quickly got over any feelings of envy having to hear Elaine sucking off my friend by taking over where she left off eating out Talia. It dawned on me that, hey, Talia didn't completely freak out when I tasted her, and after a few minutes, I took the pillow off her face, said, "Do you wanna go to the other room?," and pulled her up by the hand. She took forever gathering her clothes to make the walk across the hall to the other room, but eventually she got dressed. Then, while I was getting more and more geeked at the thought of having sex with Talia, who really is a very attractive, sweet woman, she stopped Elaine in mid-suck to ask her to join us, to which Elaine responded, "I'll be there in a few minutes." So I'm thinking, wow, I'm about to nail Talia, and then Elaine is coming later to show me those oral skills she's currently displaying on Ronnie? What a night!
We had not been in that other hotel room for more than five seconds before Talia turned to me with this sorrowful look on her face and said to me, "I'm sorry Dre, I'm not in the mood." I had never been more in the mood than at that moment, so I spent the next 45 minutes or so trying to cajole Talia out of the clothes that she just put back on. Somewhere along the way I got her top off, and I remember kissing her and sucking her tits, and my shirt was off as well, but I wasn't going to take my pants off until I got her legs back open again. But that never happened. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I begged, Talia was not interested in fucking me. She called Elaine a couple of times, but Elaine was a little preoccupied and assured her that she would be over once she was done. Then at one point she got this sorrowful look on her face again and said, "You're going to fuck me, aren't you?" This indicated to me that she expected me to take what I wanted instead of begging all night, and if I intended to rape her she wanted it to be over with. I instantly lost my boner and stopped trying to fuck Talia. I felt like such a turd. From there, we actually talked for about three hours. She told me about her emotional problems, that she was on anti-depressant medication, and that she didn't have high self-esteem, and I wound up spending most of that conversation trying to tell her how attractive she was and how she seemed to be a good person (despite her "open marriage"). I gave her so many compliments that at one point she smiled, touched my cheek, and said, "Wow, you're really good for my ego!" I choose to hold on to that as the highlight of my night. I don't know if I had any lasting effect on Talia, but I got the feeling that not a lot of people had spent all night making her feel good emotionally. Physically, sure, but not emotionally.
Elaine never came over to my hotel room. She would explain in an e-mail that she felt guilty about potentially fucking her mother's boyfriend, making her by far the most mature and adult person in that entire situation. Talia called her at about 5A and expressed the need to leave right now in order to be back home ASAP. I think she started to become worried about her husband, who didn't know she was pulling an all-nighter. When I walked into Ronnie and Elaine's room after the girls had left to go to the car, Ronnie was still there, and all he could say was, "Man. The room still smells like sex." And he was right. There was a sickening mix of cum scent in the air that I know wouldn't have affected me at all if I had been able to screw Talia and create my own funky-smelling suite. But I'm willing to bet that not a lot of you know what it feels like to stand in a room where people have been having wild monkey sex and it smells like it, and you thought you would get some of that wild monkey sex all night long, and you got bupkus. It don't feel good. Ronnie kept asking me what was wrong because he could sense that I was not in a good mood, but I couldn't tell him at that point. I just gave him the $80 for my room, which I owed him because he put the rooms on his credit card, and I slinked into the passenger's seat of his car. I then had to watch him and Elaine kiss goodbye outside, and I mean a long kiss goodbye, complete with blow-off wave at me before she got into her car and drove away. I never saw either Elaine or Talia again. Ronnie was good enough to drive me home, which was an hour north. As the sun came up, I did tell him during the drive that Talia and I didn't have sex, and he basically said nothing the rest of the trip. I think he was completely speechless, and so was I.
I'm reminded of this story occasionally when I spend time with "Jacob" and a friend of his. This friend was there at Jacob's house years ago during a New Year's Eve when Jacob and I were playing football on his PlayStation. One game came to an end when I got a touchdown with no time on the clock to pull within one point. An extra point would have forced overtime, but this friend and others implored me to go for a two-point conversion and the win, so I did, and Jacob made a spectacular play to stop me at the one-inch line. The friend immediately screamed, "Why did you do that, you idiot?" I said, "You told me to!," and he said, "I'm drunk! What are you listening to me for??" It's a funny story, and the friend branded me with the nickname Go-For-2 afterwards. Well, I told the long story of this wild night with Ronnie and Elaine and Talia to this friend a couple of years ago, and after I finally got to the conclusion, he deadpans, "So I guess now we can call you 0-for-2." That's one of the greatest one-liners I've ever heard. It was accurate, and it was delivered so straight that I never saw it coming. It helped me get a chuckle out of the sad fact that I had my hands on not one but two horny women who were probably willing to have sex with me at some point during that evening, and I wasn't good enough to pull either one. In all my adventures, there are no occasions more pathetic than this one.
Showing posts with label sarah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sarah. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Friday, August 04, 2006
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
R.I.P. Part 2
"Torrie" will not be going to the Kentucky Derby with me. The half-sister that died earlier this year had two sons with heart conditions, and one of them went into cardiac arrest and died. I am speechless at the streak of bad luck that Torrie and her family have endured this year, and my condolences go out to them.
I was about to give in and go to the Derby with my friend "Ronnie" and his girlfriend and share my hotel room with them, but apparently my good friend Cassandra is going to go with me. She's had a lot of drama lately, a breakup with a long-time boyfriend, a situation in Florida that she had to personally attend to this past weekend, but she still insists that we will rent a car and go together. I think she needs the break from her current surroundings, and I also think that she got sick of hearing me complain about having no one to go with me and is taking pity on me. I don' t think it's a hook-up situation. She has told me how "attractive" I am and how she loves my intelligence, but she had a boyfriend the entire time I knew her, two years now, so she could tell me those things without worrying about me taking her seriously and making a move. And since we have gone out together before and I haven't done anything inappropriate, I think she trusts me enough to know that I'm not going to force myself on her and she can enjoy the trip and relax. I expected her to reconsider when I told her that the time spent between races at Churchill Downs during the Derby is used by drunk coeds to show their tits for beads like it's Mardi Gras, but she says she will enjoy herself regardless. It's ironic that Cassandra is one of the few women I know that is not bisexual and would not enjoy that aspect of the Derby, but she will be going anyway. "Sarah" is very bi, and she couldn't get enough of the topless women last year. Hell, she got more pics of them than I did. And I would love to be going with Sarah again, because we had an absolute blast last year, but alas, Sarah and I haven't spoken to each other since New Year's, and I have a feeling that we may never see each other again.
I was part of the group of Chicago bloggers invited by Sunshyn to attend a get-together at Dave and Buster's last Friday, but I backed out at the last minute because I thought that Sunshyn would be the only person I knew, and I don't deal with meeting new people very well, which is why I will never have another date outside of the internet again. But it turns out that I would have recognized someone else that was there: Keisha, who I went to high school with. I was pleasantly surprised to see her pic when I looked at Sunshyn's album of the event. I distinctly remember Keisha. There were a lot of bitches in high school that thought they were better than everyone else, especially me, being fat and unattractive. But Keisha was very very cool with me and everyone else. What a small world, now she's writing a blog, just like me, and we are connected through Sunshyn, who did not go to school with either of us. Go figure. But now I can make the next bloggers meeting and actually know a couple of people there instead of standing in a group of strangers and shining my social ineptitude on the masses.
Thinking about high school reminds me of my very first girlfriend, the first and last black woman I had sex with, "Giselle," and how many high school classmates probably only remember me because of the large, homely girl with one eye that I was walking around school holding hands with my entire senior year. Now that sounds like a story for the "My History" file. I'll tell you about that when I come back from the Derby.
Speaking of the Derby, I haven't looked at the official program yet, but my unofficial pick before I look at all the data is Afleet Alex. Just wanted to post that so if he wins and I claim it when I come back, there won't be calls of "BULLSHIT!" Afleet Alex won a top Derby prep race, the Arkansas Derby, by eight lengths, and he was a highly regarded horse before some recent bad races, so I'm hoping to get a good price by picking him. I'm not the best person to go to concerning horse racing, but I know a little about it. And I picked Smarty Jones last year. I was very proud of that. In fact, Sarah bought a plush toy horse at a Wal-Mart the day before the Derby last year in Edinburgh, IN (where we were staying because as I have mentioned before it is absolutely impossible to get a room for Derby weekend in Louisville unless you have an extra grand or two lying around or you reserve the room a year in advance like I did this year), and after Smarty Jones won and we got back to the hotel she named the toy horse Smarty Ed, after Edinburgh. *sigh* Sometimes I miss that crazy old woman so much. The Derby is for the best 3-year-old horses overall. The Friday before the Derby at Churchill Downs is the Kentucky Oaks, which is for the best 3-year-old girl horses. I wanted to get to Louisville early this year and go to the Oaks, because I've never been, and bet a horse named Summerly. But she didn't do so well in her last prep race before the Oaks, and on top of that, it looks like Cassandra will not be able to get Friday off work, so I wouldn't be able to attend unless I pulled a "Runaway Bride" (can you believe that shit?? I'm not for beating women, but sometimes...) and abandoned Cass and went on my own. And I'm not doing that, not after all the bitching and moaning I've been doing about not having anyone to go with.
Unless there's other last-minute news, this will be it for me until after the Derby. Wish me luck!
I was about to give in and go to the Derby with my friend "Ronnie" and his girlfriend and share my hotel room with them, but apparently my good friend Cassandra is going to go with me. She's had a lot of drama lately, a breakup with a long-time boyfriend, a situation in Florida that she had to personally attend to this past weekend, but she still insists that we will rent a car and go together. I think she needs the break from her current surroundings, and I also think that she got sick of hearing me complain about having no one to go with me and is taking pity on me. I don' t think it's a hook-up situation. She has told me how "attractive" I am and how she loves my intelligence, but she had a boyfriend the entire time I knew her, two years now, so she could tell me those things without worrying about me taking her seriously and making a move. And since we have gone out together before and I haven't done anything inappropriate, I think she trusts me enough to know that I'm not going to force myself on her and she can enjoy the trip and relax. I expected her to reconsider when I told her that the time spent between races at Churchill Downs during the Derby is used by drunk coeds to show their tits for beads like it's Mardi Gras, but she says she will enjoy herself regardless. It's ironic that Cassandra is one of the few women I know that is not bisexual and would not enjoy that aspect of the Derby, but she will be going anyway. "Sarah" is very bi, and she couldn't get enough of the topless women last year. Hell, she got more pics of them than I did. And I would love to be going with Sarah again, because we had an absolute blast last year, but alas, Sarah and I haven't spoken to each other since New Year's, and I have a feeling that we may never see each other again.
I was part of the group of Chicago bloggers invited by Sunshyn to attend a get-together at Dave and Buster's last Friday, but I backed out at the last minute because I thought that Sunshyn would be the only person I knew, and I don't deal with meeting new people very well, which is why I will never have another date outside of the internet again. But it turns out that I would have recognized someone else that was there: Keisha, who I went to high school with. I was pleasantly surprised to see her pic when I looked at Sunshyn's album of the event. I distinctly remember Keisha. There were a lot of bitches in high school that thought they were better than everyone else, especially me, being fat and unattractive. But Keisha was very very cool with me and everyone else. What a small world, now she's writing a blog, just like me, and we are connected through Sunshyn, who did not go to school with either of us. Go figure. But now I can make the next bloggers meeting and actually know a couple of people there instead of standing in a group of strangers and shining my social ineptitude on the masses.
Thinking about high school reminds me of my very first girlfriend, the first and last black woman I had sex with, "Giselle," and how many high school classmates probably only remember me because of the large, homely girl with one eye that I was walking around school holding hands with my entire senior year. Now that sounds like a story for the "My History" file. I'll tell you about that when I come back from the Derby.
Speaking of the Derby, I haven't looked at the official program yet, but my unofficial pick before I look at all the data is Afleet Alex. Just wanted to post that so if he wins and I claim it when I come back, there won't be calls of "BULLSHIT!" Afleet Alex won a top Derby prep race, the Arkansas Derby, by eight lengths, and he was a highly regarded horse before some recent bad races, so I'm hoping to get a good price by picking him. I'm not the best person to go to concerning horse racing, but I know a little about it. And I picked Smarty Jones last year. I was very proud of that. In fact, Sarah bought a plush toy horse at a Wal-Mart the day before the Derby last year in Edinburgh, IN (where we were staying because as I have mentioned before it is absolutely impossible to get a room for Derby weekend in Louisville unless you have an extra grand or two lying around or you reserve the room a year in advance like I did this year), and after Smarty Jones won and we got back to the hotel she named the toy horse Smarty Ed, after Edinburgh. *sigh* Sometimes I miss that crazy old woman so much. The Derby is for the best 3-year-old horses overall. The Friday before the Derby at Churchill Downs is the Kentucky Oaks, which is for the best 3-year-old girl horses. I wanted to get to Louisville early this year and go to the Oaks, because I've never been, and bet a horse named Summerly. But she didn't do so well in her last prep race before the Oaks, and on top of that, it looks like Cassandra will not be able to get Friday off work, so I wouldn't be able to attend unless I pulled a "Runaway Bride" (can you believe that shit?? I'm not for beating women, but sometimes...) and abandoned Cass and went on my own. And I'm not doing that, not after all the bitching and moaning I've been doing about not having anyone to go with.
Unless there's other last-minute news, this will be it for me until after the Derby. Wish me luck!
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Peaks And Valleys
Some good news and some bad news came my way this past week. First, on Tuesday when I showed up for class, the head of the English department took me aside and asked, "Would you be (insert my full name here) by chance?" I said yes, very warily. I didn't know who he was when he asked. But he introduced himself and informed me that my exit essay had been chosen as the best out of all the students at my junior college, which is a little like saying that I was voted best looking man in a room full of hockey players. But I was still pleasantly surprised, especially considering that I didn't write the essay thinking that there was any kind of prize attached. He asked me to come back to school the next day to receive a prize for achieving this feat. I wavered, because Wednesday is not a school day for me and I was not interested in showing up for whatever "honor" was being bestowed on me...until he informed me of the $500 prize. Of course I was there with bells on the next day.
I walked into a room full of teachers. The English department had gathered in a room for their Christmas party, and this was the room I was told to come to when I got off work. It was a very humbling scene. All the teachers congratulated me one by one, some telling me that my essay was so good that they were passing it around to the other members of the faculty. Then I found out that the money was actually a scholarship in the name of a former English teacher at the college who died, and his sister, tears in her eyes, told everyone how much her brother meant to her and told me how proud he would be of my work. Then an empty envelope was given to me in the name of presentation, because the actual check had not been signed by the proper authorities. I said a couple of words, mostly how speechless and honored I was, then I shuffled back to my seat as if embarrassed by the attention. The check should be waiting for me when I come back after the Christmas--oops, winter--break. By the way, the essay was my answer to the question: "How does physical appearance affect how you look at yourself and how others look at you?" I had so much to say about that subject that I went through the five sheets of paper originally given to me and asked for one extra.
The award made me wonder where I would be if I had tried to attend college right out of high school. My grades were atrocious and my concentration was the same, so I honestly don't think I was ready for more school when I graduated high school. So I have been working at the same job for the last ten years while basically waiting to win Powerball so I wouldn't have to worry about education. But that never happened. Now that I have started school, it has been fun and rewarding. The three credits I received for passing English 101 may not seem like much, compared to the 60 I need for an associate's degree or the 120 I need for a bachelor's. But because I actually enjoyed the 17-week journey while I earned those, I am looking forward to what else I will learn while I pursue more credits. I will not be expecting more rewards for my writing, however. Perhaps I am a good enough writer where I will receive more accolades in the future. But for now, I need to enjoy the experience and make sure that I keep my concentration level high.
Speaking of that job I've had for ten years, that's the bad news. As you know if you read my previous post concerning what happened between me and "Karen," I have known that my position was being eliminated since October 2003. Friday morning, I learned that the end should be coming on January 7. Of course, me being the lazy fuck that I am, I have nothing lined up after I am let go. I have heard of receiving unemployment, but I know nothing about it. From what I hear, it won't pay nearly as much as what I'm making, not that I am making a lot now. This leaves me three options: Stay out here by myself and try to find work, get a roommate, or move back to my uncle's cramped house, where he, his wife, and their two teenage boys reside, in order to save money. I don't think I am moving back to my uncle's house; it's just too difficult to adjust to living with those many people after living alone for seven years. Plus, where would I host the houseguests with bags of dildos who blow me twenty minutes after meeting me? I don't think I want to look for a roommate; all the people I know I wouldn't want to live with, which leaves the rest of the world, who are all strangers. I don't deal with strangers well. Guess that leaves wasting my settlement check from my layoff on rent.
Notice how I did not consider moving in with "Jane" as an option. Yes, everything is still going well between us. We still talk every night, and usually every morning. But I have learned my lesson from Karen and "Sarah." I am not going to make plans to share a place with a woman until I feel like I really know her. This may take a few years of long-distance dating. Oh well. I'll be damned if I get screwed over again like those other women did to me. It's less than two weeks to the first meeting between me and Jane. I want this more than anything else in the world right now. We seem to be separated at birth, our personalities are so similar, and I absolutely cannot wait until we spend that weekend together to see how we mesh in real life, not just over the phone. But I will not expose my heart to Jane, no matter how much I think I am in love with her. It may not be fair to her, and it may hurt her that I seem to keep an air of distrust when dealing with her. But I swear the next woman to lie to me or let me treat them well all summer only to dump me because I don't apply clamps to her nipples and humiliate her, I don't know what I will do. I have to protect myself. No one else sure the fuck will.
Speaking of Sarah, she sent me a birthday card and wrote that she hopes I get all that I wish for. (My birthday is December 22.) It's taking all my self-control to not call her and curse her out. All that I wished for was one woman to treat me right and let me treat her right. And for several months she was okay with being that person. Then she started longing for those wonderful nights handcuffed on someone's kitchen floor with a ball gag in her mouth.
By the way, I heard that she is supposed to be moving up here to a suburb near me. I wonder what master she met that lives up this way? Stay tuned...
And if I don't get a chance to do it personally, happy holidays to all of you. I hope you all get what you wished for.
I'm going to go hang myself now or swallow some bleach or something...
I walked into a room full of teachers. The English department had gathered in a room for their Christmas party, and this was the room I was told to come to when I got off work. It was a very humbling scene. All the teachers congratulated me one by one, some telling me that my essay was so good that they were passing it around to the other members of the faculty. Then I found out that the money was actually a scholarship in the name of a former English teacher at the college who died, and his sister, tears in her eyes, told everyone how much her brother meant to her and told me how proud he would be of my work. Then an empty envelope was given to me in the name of presentation, because the actual check had not been signed by the proper authorities. I said a couple of words, mostly how speechless and honored I was, then I shuffled back to my seat as if embarrassed by the attention. The check should be waiting for me when I come back after the Christmas--oops, winter--break. By the way, the essay was my answer to the question: "How does physical appearance affect how you look at yourself and how others look at you?" I had so much to say about that subject that I went through the five sheets of paper originally given to me and asked for one extra.
The award made me wonder where I would be if I had tried to attend college right out of high school. My grades were atrocious and my concentration was the same, so I honestly don't think I was ready for more school when I graduated high school. So I have been working at the same job for the last ten years while basically waiting to win Powerball so I wouldn't have to worry about education. But that never happened. Now that I have started school, it has been fun and rewarding. The three credits I received for passing English 101 may not seem like much, compared to the 60 I need for an associate's degree or the 120 I need for a bachelor's. But because I actually enjoyed the 17-week journey while I earned those, I am looking forward to what else I will learn while I pursue more credits. I will not be expecting more rewards for my writing, however. Perhaps I am a good enough writer where I will receive more accolades in the future. But for now, I need to enjoy the experience and make sure that I keep my concentration level high.
Speaking of that job I've had for ten years, that's the bad news. As you know if you read my previous post concerning what happened between me and "Karen," I have known that my position was being eliminated since October 2003. Friday morning, I learned that the end should be coming on January 7. Of course, me being the lazy fuck that I am, I have nothing lined up after I am let go. I have heard of receiving unemployment, but I know nothing about it. From what I hear, it won't pay nearly as much as what I'm making, not that I am making a lot now. This leaves me three options: Stay out here by myself and try to find work, get a roommate, or move back to my uncle's cramped house, where he, his wife, and their two teenage boys reside, in order to save money. I don't think I am moving back to my uncle's house; it's just too difficult to adjust to living with those many people after living alone for seven years. Plus, where would I host the houseguests with bags of dildos who blow me twenty minutes after meeting me? I don't think I want to look for a roommate; all the people I know I wouldn't want to live with, which leaves the rest of the world, who are all strangers. I don't deal with strangers well. Guess that leaves wasting my settlement check from my layoff on rent.
Notice how I did not consider moving in with "Jane" as an option. Yes, everything is still going well between us. We still talk every night, and usually every morning. But I have learned my lesson from Karen and "Sarah." I am not going to make plans to share a place with a woman until I feel like I really know her. This may take a few years of long-distance dating. Oh well. I'll be damned if I get screwed over again like those other women did to me. It's less than two weeks to the first meeting between me and Jane. I want this more than anything else in the world right now. We seem to be separated at birth, our personalities are so similar, and I absolutely cannot wait until we spend that weekend together to see how we mesh in real life, not just over the phone. But I will not expose my heart to Jane, no matter how much I think I am in love with her. It may not be fair to her, and it may hurt her that I seem to keep an air of distrust when dealing with her. But I swear the next woman to lie to me or let me treat them well all summer only to dump me because I don't apply clamps to her nipples and humiliate her, I don't know what I will do. I have to protect myself. No one else sure the fuck will.
Speaking of Sarah, she sent me a birthday card and wrote that she hopes I get all that I wish for. (My birthday is December 22.) It's taking all my self-control to not call her and curse her out. All that I wished for was one woman to treat me right and let me treat her right. And for several months she was okay with being that person. Then she started longing for those wonderful nights handcuffed on someone's kitchen floor with a ball gag in her mouth.
By the way, I heard that she is supposed to be moving up here to a suburb near me. I wonder what master she met that lives up this way? Stay tuned...
And if I don't get a chance to do it personally, happy holidays to all of you. I hope you all get what you wished for.
I'm going to go hang myself now or swallow some bleach or something...
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
My History (2nd In A Series)
This is the story of a relationship I had with a woman I met online. I'll call her "Sarah."
I saw Sarah's profile when I was bored and surfing a singles website one Saturday. This was in late 2003, when I was feeling so worried about where the relationship between me and Karen was headed that I went looking for someone else. No, I had not found out about Karen's other life yet, but there was just something not right about her. A long-distance relationship can work, but it's very hard when there's no phone calls or contact between the two parties, except for every other weekend, and that's only for a few hours sometimes. It's no excuse for me looking for something else, but that was my reasoning, and I'm not sorry.
Sarah's profile said that her hobbies were "sex, sex, sex," and she had pictures that sure made it seem like that was all she thought about. Finally, I thought, someone desperate enough to perhaps fuck me. And she was in the state, another plus. Her pics were very blunt, she had both her breasts in her hands in one pic and was holding them up on display, and another pic had her nipples being pinched by clothespins. For some reason the pics made my dick instantly hard, and that's exactly what I told her in my first e-mail to her. I guess I've always been attracted to women who have no inhibitions about their body. That certainly described Sarah. We flirted through e-mail for a few weeks, then she let me see her on her webcam, and her lack of inhibition continued as she would often set the webcam on the floor and proceed to show me everything about her. And I mean everything.
Soon we were talking on the phone, very suggestively of course, and despite me having had sex with Karen at this point, I decided to invite Sarah up to my apartment. This was a four-hour drive for her, so I was feeling very good about things, seeing that she had talked to me and still wanted to meet me. She would tell me in the days leading up to her coming here exactly what she planned to do to me when she got here. I couldn't wait. Finally, on a Tuesday, she met me outside my apartment after I got off work. I had the next day off, in case things worked out well. And work out well they did: Twenty minutes after we met, Sarah was between my legs adjacent from me, giving me oral sex...and swallowing every single drop. She even brought a bag of sex toys with her to continue the fun as long as she wanted. No doubt about it, Sarah knew exactly what she liked and what she wanted to do, and I was loving it.
Sarah visited several more times, including on my birthday, December 22nd, when she helped me wrap Karen's Christmas gifts in between sessions of fucking me. It was a perfect scenario for me. Sarah loved having sex with me, she was disease-free and unable to get pregnant, she loved giving me oral sex, and she was insatiable in bed. There was honestly no reason I could find to stop seeing her, Karen be damned. She was even fun outside the bedroom. Sarah had a small-town personality to her, having been born in Kentucky and living in the relatively small Springfield, IL, and it was a refreshing change from the arrogant bitches I worked with in the city of Chicago. She really seemed to be enjoying life, and I was enjoying it more and more every time I saw her.
In fact, I was enjoying it too much. Once the new year came and plans intensified between me and Karen for me to move to Milwaukee with her, I started withdrawing from Sarah because I wanted to make it easier on myself when I left the area and stopped seeing her. We had not spoken in several weeks when that Friday came that I discovered Karen's swingers website. After calling my best friend and expressing my shock, I called Sarah, but got no answer from her cell phone. Then I talked to Sarah's daughter online, desperately looking for someone to talk to. She let Sarah know that I needed to talk to her ASAP. Sarah called that evening, I told her the story, and she drove the four hours the next morning to my apartment and spent the entire weekend with me, consoling me, fucking me, going to a comedy club with me to get my mind off things, and going bowling with me so someone could be there with me when I broke the news to my uncle, who was a teammate on my bowling team. I will never forget Sarah being there for me that weekend, dropping everything to come up here and make sure I wasn't alone. Who knows what I would've done if I didn't have her there with me.
This began a serious relationship between Sarah and me. Sarah became sort of my rescuer, the person who was there for me in my worst moment, my best friend, lover, and the only thing I had in my life to hold on to. This may have been a lot for a promiscuous woman such as herself to take on, but she did. She visited on most of her two-day breaks from her job, driving up here sometimes right after work at 10PM, arriving at my apartment at 1AM or 2AM and staying until the morning she had to return to work two days later. She would drive me to my job in the morning and then take off for Springfield, only having a brief rest period until she started work at 2PM. We told each other that we loved each other, but I would preface it by saying that it wasn't the same type of love I had for Karen. It was the love and appreciation I had for someone who was always there for me, whereas the love I had for Karen was the be-my-wife-and-mother-of-my-children type. I wasn't sure if Sarah resented that, but she did make it clear that she wasn't expecting to be in love with anyone ever again, and she was being a good girl and not sleeping around especially for me. Of course, after what I had just been through, I had to reason to trust her, but I wanted to.
Sarah told me the weekend that she came here after my breakup with Karen that she would be there for me and do anything for me, and I immediately jumped on the occasion to ask her if she would let me move to Springfield with her. She said yes. I spent a weekend down there with her getting a feel for her apartment and the town, and I liked the quiet atmosphere. I was looking forward to going there and starting over, just like I was looking forward to moving to Milwaukee and starting over. But I didn't intend to be in a monogamous relationship with Sarah. I never had that in my mind when I met her, or after we slept together, or at any point. And as a result, the beginning of the end of our relationship came when her 22-year-old daughter, "Elaine," started flirting with me. Elaine was engaged, but she didn't let that stop her from giving me a big hug when I met her and Sarah on my first trip to Springfield and later pecking me goodbye on the lips in front of Sarah. I honestly didn't think Sarah would have a problem with me sleeping with her daughter, especially considering I wouldn't be the first man to have had them both. But on the Monday after Sarah and I returned from a weekend in Louisville at the Kentucky Derby, where we had a wonderful time and seemed to be as together as ever before, Elaine's flirting became heavier, and when I chatted with Elaine on the computer the day after the Kentucky Derby trip, Sarah's irritation was palpable. A joke I made about Elaine having a dick (no, she didn't, just some bad joke by me) turned into Elaine actually typing in the words, "No I don't have a dick, but I have a pussy. It's wet for you." And when Sarah saw this, well, it was time to talk.
Sarah informed me that whatever relationship we were supposed to have, casual, serious, whatever, she would not feel comfortable with me starting to see her daughter when I'm supposed to be moving in with her soon. I understood, and put the brakes on anything physical happening between me and Elaine. But a convergence of events would tear at the fabric of that agreement between me and Sarah. Elaine was supposed to come visit friends near Chicago that Thursday and made plans to come see me, just as friends. On Tuesday, Sarah returned to Springfield. When Thursday came, Elaine's fiance found out about her plans to see me and expressed his outrage. Elaine then called in tears and told me that she was not coming to see me. The next day, Elaine informed me that a man that Sarah had a long sexual history with was staying at Sarah's house, and the smell of alcohol was in the air. Sarah claimed to have quit drinking. What's worse, Sarah stayed up past midnight one night with me telling me how she kept telling this same man to leave her alone, that she wasn't interested in seeing him anymore, but that he kept calling and she didn't know what to do. Among my advice was to ignore him or to call the police. Not among my advice was to let the fucker into her house and get drunk with him for two days, right after she spent a great weekend in Louisville with me. But I really didn't mind if she fucked him. My problem was with her telling me how special our relationship was and how she didn't want me to see her daughter, but it was okay for her to see this guy, whom she admitted was nothing more than a fuckbuddy.
I was livid. I didn't even want her daughter for a good reason other than she wanted to fuck me, and I never turn down a woman that actually wants to fuck me. It was just the principle of her asking me to respect what we had, then disrespecting it herself. She admitted he was there with her when I called, but claimed that they weren't doing anything together, which I would never believe because of how much she told me she didn't want anything to do with the guy anymore. Why else would she decide to let him back into her life if not to fuck her? That's all he could do, according to her. I angrily threw insults and accusations at her until...wait for it...this nigger grabs the phone and tells me that they really weren't doing anything together and that he's such a morally upstanding person that he wouldn't lie to me, even though he had a girlfriend he was stepping out on at the time. I felt like the biggest fool in the world that night, and honestly, for the rest of the summer, because I knew she had fucked him but didn't have the concrete proof. I wondered why I had to always meet these types of women, that lie and cheat and have no respect for me, until I realized: Hey, I was lying and cheating on Karen when I started seeing Sarah in the first place.
At that point I decided to accept whatever happened because I deserved it for being such a dick that I slept with Sarah despite dating Karen. So for the rest of the summer, I backed off and let Sarah be, and we went out when she could make it here to Chicago and enjoyed ourselves, and still had plans for me to move down there when my job let me go. The last time we went out, I thought I really did a good job of trying to make her happy. I bought concert tickets for an artist that she really liked, but she had her teenage son for the summer and didn't want to leave him alone in her Springfield apartment, so I rented a hotel room for two nights and had them both up here as my guests. We enjoyed the concert, then went out to dinner the next night. I thought everything was going well.
So, of course, because this is me we're talking about, it all came apart soon after. I had always known that Sarah was bisexual and into BDSM. Well, she started asserting herself more and being more confrontational after discovering a BDSM club in her area where she met other people who enjoy that lifestyle. She had always felt that she was weird and felt alone because of her love of pain, but with this group of people, she was no longer alone, and she gained the confidence to tell me that my loving and caring ways weren't what got her off. Soon after, she went to Milwaukee for a weekend to visit a man who was a foster brother for a brief time during her childhood, when she went from foster home to foster home. When I talked to her that Saturday afternoon, she couldn't stop talking about this guy's wife and how "sweet her pussy is." She didn't call me at all that night, the first night since we became serious that she didn't call. I didn't sleep at all that night. I knew that she was fucking this woman, and probably the man, too. The next day when I asked her what she was doing the night before, she expressed shock that I would think that she would fuck her foster brother. I asked, "So all weekend you haven't done anything sexual with anyone?" Her response: "Well, I ate his wife out. Twice." I asked if she thought this was cheating on me. She said no, because it was with a woman. I vehemently disagreed, and the next weekend, after a week of arguing, she dumped me, claiming that she just didn't want me moving in with her because she needed her space. When I offered to do anything to stay with her, she showed just how much she wanted to get rid of me by describing in detail a night she had spent with a man she met in this BDSM club. Electric shock, nipple clamps, ripping her pubic hair out by the roots, making her sleep all night naked on a cold kitchen floor, making her go to the bathroom on newspaper in the corner...and at the end of all this she said, "And I loved every minute of it. I got off on it. I love to be humiliated. Is that the type of woman you want to be in love with?" And because I didn't want to lose her, I told her that I would accept her in any way she wanted, bruised, battered, whatever. I told her that I understood what she wanted, and I didn't care. She said, "You don't understand me. You never will understand me."
Most people would love to meet someone that would accept them under any conditions. Sarah? She came to my apartment two days later, picked up her personal belongings, and left. I cried pretty hard that weekend. She said she did too, but why? She was getting exactly what she wanted. She was dumping me. She was ridding herself of the albatross of a monogamous relationship, which she never wanted because that's not what got her off. She would be free to fuck anyone she wanted, the man she claimed she wanted to get rid of, her foster brother's wife, her foster brother, her daughter, whoever.
And I was all alone. Again.
I saw Sarah's profile when I was bored and surfing a singles website one Saturday. This was in late 2003, when I was feeling so worried about where the relationship between me and Karen was headed that I went looking for someone else. No, I had not found out about Karen's other life yet, but there was just something not right about her. A long-distance relationship can work, but it's very hard when there's no phone calls or contact between the two parties, except for every other weekend, and that's only for a few hours sometimes. It's no excuse for me looking for something else, but that was my reasoning, and I'm not sorry.
Sarah's profile said that her hobbies were "sex, sex, sex," and she had pictures that sure made it seem like that was all she thought about. Finally, I thought, someone desperate enough to perhaps fuck me. And she was in the state, another plus. Her pics were very blunt, she had both her breasts in her hands in one pic and was holding them up on display, and another pic had her nipples being pinched by clothespins. For some reason the pics made my dick instantly hard, and that's exactly what I told her in my first e-mail to her. I guess I've always been attracted to women who have no inhibitions about their body. That certainly described Sarah. We flirted through e-mail for a few weeks, then she let me see her on her webcam, and her lack of inhibition continued as she would often set the webcam on the floor and proceed to show me everything about her. And I mean everything.
Soon we were talking on the phone, very suggestively of course, and despite me having had sex with Karen at this point, I decided to invite Sarah up to my apartment. This was a four-hour drive for her, so I was feeling very good about things, seeing that she had talked to me and still wanted to meet me. She would tell me in the days leading up to her coming here exactly what she planned to do to me when she got here. I couldn't wait. Finally, on a Tuesday, she met me outside my apartment after I got off work. I had the next day off, in case things worked out well. And work out well they did: Twenty minutes after we met, Sarah was between my legs adjacent from me, giving me oral sex...and swallowing every single drop. She even brought a bag of sex toys with her to continue the fun as long as she wanted. No doubt about it, Sarah knew exactly what she liked and what she wanted to do, and I was loving it.
Sarah visited several more times, including on my birthday, December 22nd, when she helped me wrap Karen's Christmas gifts in between sessions of fucking me. It was a perfect scenario for me. Sarah loved having sex with me, she was disease-free and unable to get pregnant, she loved giving me oral sex, and she was insatiable in bed. There was honestly no reason I could find to stop seeing her, Karen be damned. She was even fun outside the bedroom. Sarah had a small-town personality to her, having been born in Kentucky and living in the relatively small Springfield, IL, and it was a refreshing change from the arrogant bitches I worked with in the city of Chicago. She really seemed to be enjoying life, and I was enjoying it more and more every time I saw her.
In fact, I was enjoying it too much. Once the new year came and plans intensified between me and Karen for me to move to Milwaukee with her, I started withdrawing from Sarah because I wanted to make it easier on myself when I left the area and stopped seeing her. We had not spoken in several weeks when that Friday came that I discovered Karen's swingers website. After calling my best friend and expressing my shock, I called Sarah, but got no answer from her cell phone. Then I talked to Sarah's daughter online, desperately looking for someone to talk to. She let Sarah know that I needed to talk to her ASAP. Sarah called that evening, I told her the story, and she drove the four hours the next morning to my apartment and spent the entire weekend with me, consoling me, fucking me, going to a comedy club with me to get my mind off things, and going bowling with me so someone could be there with me when I broke the news to my uncle, who was a teammate on my bowling team. I will never forget Sarah being there for me that weekend, dropping everything to come up here and make sure I wasn't alone. Who knows what I would've done if I didn't have her there with me.
This began a serious relationship between Sarah and me. Sarah became sort of my rescuer, the person who was there for me in my worst moment, my best friend, lover, and the only thing I had in my life to hold on to. This may have been a lot for a promiscuous woman such as herself to take on, but she did. She visited on most of her two-day breaks from her job, driving up here sometimes right after work at 10PM, arriving at my apartment at 1AM or 2AM and staying until the morning she had to return to work two days later. She would drive me to my job in the morning and then take off for Springfield, only having a brief rest period until she started work at 2PM. We told each other that we loved each other, but I would preface it by saying that it wasn't the same type of love I had for Karen. It was the love and appreciation I had for someone who was always there for me, whereas the love I had for Karen was the be-my-wife-and-mother-of-my-children type. I wasn't sure if Sarah resented that, but she did make it clear that she wasn't expecting to be in love with anyone ever again, and she was being a good girl and not sleeping around especially for me. Of course, after what I had just been through, I had to reason to trust her, but I wanted to.
Sarah told me the weekend that she came here after my breakup with Karen that she would be there for me and do anything for me, and I immediately jumped on the occasion to ask her if she would let me move to Springfield with her. She said yes. I spent a weekend down there with her getting a feel for her apartment and the town, and I liked the quiet atmosphere. I was looking forward to going there and starting over, just like I was looking forward to moving to Milwaukee and starting over. But I didn't intend to be in a monogamous relationship with Sarah. I never had that in my mind when I met her, or after we slept together, or at any point. And as a result, the beginning of the end of our relationship came when her 22-year-old daughter, "Elaine," started flirting with me. Elaine was engaged, but she didn't let that stop her from giving me a big hug when I met her and Sarah on my first trip to Springfield and later pecking me goodbye on the lips in front of Sarah. I honestly didn't think Sarah would have a problem with me sleeping with her daughter, especially considering I wouldn't be the first man to have had them both. But on the Monday after Sarah and I returned from a weekend in Louisville at the Kentucky Derby, where we had a wonderful time and seemed to be as together as ever before, Elaine's flirting became heavier, and when I chatted with Elaine on the computer the day after the Kentucky Derby trip, Sarah's irritation was palpable. A joke I made about Elaine having a dick (no, she didn't, just some bad joke by me) turned into Elaine actually typing in the words, "No I don't have a dick, but I have a pussy. It's wet for you." And when Sarah saw this, well, it was time to talk.
Sarah informed me that whatever relationship we were supposed to have, casual, serious, whatever, she would not feel comfortable with me starting to see her daughter when I'm supposed to be moving in with her soon. I understood, and put the brakes on anything physical happening between me and Elaine. But a convergence of events would tear at the fabric of that agreement between me and Sarah. Elaine was supposed to come visit friends near Chicago that Thursday and made plans to come see me, just as friends. On Tuesday, Sarah returned to Springfield. When Thursday came, Elaine's fiance found out about her plans to see me and expressed his outrage. Elaine then called in tears and told me that she was not coming to see me. The next day, Elaine informed me that a man that Sarah had a long sexual history with was staying at Sarah's house, and the smell of alcohol was in the air. Sarah claimed to have quit drinking. What's worse, Sarah stayed up past midnight one night with me telling me how she kept telling this same man to leave her alone, that she wasn't interested in seeing him anymore, but that he kept calling and she didn't know what to do. Among my advice was to ignore him or to call the police. Not among my advice was to let the fucker into her house and get drunk with him for two days, right after she spent a great weekend in Louisville with me. But I really didn't mind if she fucked him. My problem was with her telling me how special our relationship was and how she didn't want me to see her daughter, but it was okay for her to see this guy, whom she admitted was nothing more than a fuckbuddy.
I was livid. I didn't even want her daughter for a good reason other than she wanted to fuck me, and I never turn down a woman that actually wants to fuck me. It was just the principle of her asking me to respect what we had, then disrespecting it herself. She admitted he was there with her when I called, but claimed that they weren't doing anything together, which I would never believe because of how much she told me she didn't want anything to do with the guy anymore. Why else would she decide to let him back into her life if not to fuck her? That's all he could do, according to her. I angrily threw insults and accusations at her until...wait for it...this nigger grabs the phone and tells me that they really weren't doing anything together and that he's such a morally upstanding person that he wouldn't lie to me, even though he had a girlfriend he was stepping out on at the time. I felt like the biggest fool in the world that night, and honestly, for the rest of the summer, because I knew she had fucked him but didn't have the concrete proof. I wondered why I had to always meet these types of women, that lie and cheat and have no respect for me, until I realized: Hey, I was lying and cheating on Karen when I started seeing Sarah in the first place.
At that point I decided to accept whatever happened because I deserved it for being such a dick that I slept with Sarah despite dating Karen. So for the rest of the summer, I backed off and let Sarah be, and we went out when she could make it here to Chicago and enjoyed ourselves, and still had plans for me to move down there when my job let me go. The last time we went out, I thought I really did a good job of trying to make her happy. I bought concert tickets for an artist that she really liked, but she had her teenage son for the summer and didn't want to leave him alone in her Springfield apartment, so I rented a hotel room for two nights and had them both up here as my guests. We enjoyed the concert, then went out to dinner the next night. I thought everything was going well.
So, of course, because this is me we're talking about, it all came apart soon after. I had always known that Sarah was bisexual and into BDSM. Well, she started asserting herself more and being more confrontational after discovering a BDSM club in her area where she met other people who enjoy that lifestyle. She had always felt that she was weird and felt alone because of her love of pain, but with this group of people, she was no longer alone, and she gained the confidence to tell me that my loving and caring ways weren't what got her off. Soon after, she went to Milwaukee for a weekend to visit a man who was a foster brother for a brief time during her childhood, when she went from foster home to foster home. When I talked to her that Saturday afternoon, she couldn't stop talking about this guy's wife and how "sweet her pussy is." She didn't call me at all that night, the first night since we became serious that she didn't call. I didn't sleep at all that night. I knew that she was fucking this woman, and probably the man, too. The next day when I asked her what she was doing the night before, she expressed shock that I would think that she would fuck her foster brother. I asked, "So all weekend you haven't done anything sexual with anyone?" Her response: "Well, I ate his wife out. Twice." I asked if she thought this was cheating on me. She said no, because it was with a woman. I vehemently disagreed, and the next weekend, after a week of arguing, she dumped me, claiming that she just didn't want me moving in with her because she needed her space. When I offered to do anything to stay with her, she showed just how much she wanted to get rid of me by describing in detail a night she had spent with a man she met in this BDSM club. Electric shock, nipple clamps, ripping her pubic hair out by the roots, making her sleep all night naked on a cold kitchen floor, making her go to the bathroom on newspaper in the corner...and at the end of all this she said, "And I loved every minute of it. I got off on it. I love to be humiliated. Is that the type of woman you want to be in love with?" And because I didn't want to lose her, I told her that I would accept her in any way she wanted, bruised, battered, whatever. I told her that I understood what she wanted, and I didn't care. She said, "You don't understand me. You never will understand me."
Most people would love to meet someone that would accept them under any conditions. Sarah? She came to my apartment two days later, picked up her personal belongings, and left. I cried pretty hard that weekend. She said she did too, but why? She was getting exactly what she wanted. She was dumping me. She was ridding herself of the albatross of a monogamous relationship, which she never wanted because that's not what got her off. She would be free to fuck anyone she wanted, the man she claimed she wanted to get rid of, her foster brother's wife, her foster brother, her daughter, whoever.
And I was all alone. Again.
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