Cumsuckingwhore.com
I've recently realized that keeping a journal is more about exhibitionism for me than it is about reflection, rememberance, or any of the other reasons proper journal keepers do so. If no one read my journal entries, I'd probably get bored and stop writing them. But I'm not bored yet ...
Speaking of "proper journal keepers," this past Friday night, a colleague of mine and I went to our favorite Hell's Kitchen dive, although I vowed recently never to set foot in that dimly lit hellhole again (and yet, I've been back twice since). To our surprise, when we arrived, the place was packed and even more to our suprise, people were wearing little name tags with odd things written on them.
I quickly learned that we had happened upon a bash of bloggers in the NYC area. How strangely fascinating, I thought, and immediately grabbed a Sharpie and a name tag and labelled myself "cumsuckingwhore.com," just for kicks.
Of course, the name tag works like a charm and I immediately found myself among three relatively boring men. Two seemed too well-manicured to be heterosexual, although they insisted they were and the other (whom the well-groomed pair denied knowing) was just sort of pathetic in a "the guy tries too hard" sort of way.
Anyhow, as some of you may know, I have a spanking fetish and will indeed randomly go up to people and give them a stern swat on the backside just to satiate my own perverse need to do so. The guywhotriestoohard caught me doing so to an unsuspecting bar patron and was immediately intrigued. Apparently, this man had a thing for ass-slapping as well ("I'm often the spank-ER" he says).
You know, under normal circumstances, my curiousity might have been piqued by such an admission and I'd be willing to go the distance with a full-on spanking scene in the middle of a crowded bar. But if there's anything I've learned in the overly-cautious lesbian BDSM community, it's that if you are going to submit, you need to trust whomever you are playing with ... and this guy did not seem trustworthy to me. Some of you are probably thinking "what's to be afraid of in a little spanking?" -- how about irreversible kidney damage?
Anyhow, somewhere in the midst of my conversation with wannabespanker, butisprobablyjustawanker, I let fly that I was actually a top and made some comment about ass fucking and strap-ons, which was overheard by one of these curious blogger-people and quoted in his blog.
Anyhow, so this guy pestered me all night and when I finally worked it into the conversation that I was a lesbian and preferred to play with other women, I think he believed I was blowing him off because he stalked off in a huff. Granted, I may have misled him by painting his lips with my very chic $16 pot of Lovely shade Lip Gloss by LORAC and then kissing him on the lips, but shouldn't he have been happy with just that?
To continue along the line of random depravity that seemed to plague me that night, I also spent a good deal of time trying to escape the advances of a nice young man who did not seem thwarted by my declarations of lesbianism. In fact, I finally allowed him to kiss me for 50 seconds (yes, I really timed it), just to get him to leave me alone. He was a nice guy, but he was drunk, horny and clearly his vision was marred by his beer goggles.
Then, I heard that the owner of the bar was being kind of a jerk to his staff, so I felt it my humble duty to chill him out by sucking him off. No, I didn't let him come in my mouth ... I don't even think he came close to coming ... hell, at this point, I don't even know if it did anything to chill him out ... oh well. Oh, I think he may have fucked my tits as well. Clearly, this is a man who watches too much porn.
Then, to top it all off, I end back up in the same basement storage room where I've just sucked the owner's cock with the girlfriend of one of the bartenders under the pretense that she and I are going to make out. We did not. We actually just had a lovely little chat until one of her friends joined us and chastised me for allowing the owner to "use" me. What an insult. It was I who was using him. Anyhow, the debate was getting heated and the bartender's girlfriend was actually coming to my defense, but the owner quickly realized that we certainly weren't getting down as we'd promised and kicked us out.
Oh well. I wonder if I would've enjoyed myself more had I actually been drinking.
I've recently realized that keeping a journal is more about exhibitionism for me than it is about reflection, rememberance, or any of the other reasons proper journal keepers do so. If no one read my journal entries, I'd probably get bored and stop writing them. But I'm not bored yet ...
Speaking of "proper journal keepers," this past Friday night, a colleague of mine and I went to our favorite Hell's Kitchen dive, although I vowed recently never to set foot in that dimly lit hellhole again (and yet, I've been back twice since). To our surprise, when we arrived, the place was packed and even more to our suprise, people were wearing little name tags with odd things written on them.
I quickly learned that we had happened upon a bash of bloggers in the NYC area. How strangely fascinating, I thought, and immediately grabbed a Sharpie and a name tag and labelled myself "cumsuckingwhore.com," just for kicks.
Of course, the name tag works like a charm and I immediately found myself among three relatively boring men. Two seemed too well-manicured to be heterosexual, although they insisted they were and the other (whom the well-groomed pair denied knowing) was just sort of pathetic in a "the guy tries too hard" sort of way.
Anyhow, as some of you may know, I have a spanking fetish and will indeed randomly go up to people and give them a stern swat on the backside just to satiate my own perverse need to do so. The guywhotriestoohard caught me doing so to an unsuspecting bar patron and was immediately intrigued. Apparently, this man had a thing for ass-slapping as well ("I'm often the spank-ER" he says).
You know, under normal circumstances, my curiousity might have been piqued by such an admission and I'd be willing to go the distance with a full-on spanking scene in the middle of a crowded bar. But if there's anything I've learned in the overly-cautious lesbian BDSM community, it's that if you are going to submit, you need to trust whomever you are playing with ... and this guy did not seem trustworthy to me. Some of you are probably thinking "what's to be afraid of in a little spanking?" -- how about irreversible kidney damage?
Anyhow, somewhere in the midst of my conversation with wannabespanker, butisprobablyjustawanker, I let fly that I was actually a top and made some comment about ass fucking and strap-ons, which was overheard by one of these curious blogger-people and quoted in his blog.
Anyhow, so this guy pestered me all night and when I finally worked it into the conversation that I was a lesbian and preferred to play with other women, I think he believed I was blowing him off because he stalked off in a huff. Granted, I may have misled him by painting his lips with my very chic $16 pot of Lovely shade Lip Gloss by LORAC and then kissing him on the lips, but shouldn't he have been happy with just that?
To continue along the line of random depravity that seemed to plague me that night, I also spent a good deal of time trying to escape the advances of a nice young man who did not seem thwarted by my declarations of lesbianism. In fact, I finally allowed him to kiss me for 50 seconds (yes, I really timed it), just to get him to leave me alone. He was a nice guy, but he was drunk, horny and clearly his vision was marred by his beer goggles.
Then, I heard that the owner of the bar was being kind of a jerk to his staff, so I felt it my humble duty to chill him out by sucking him off. No, I didn't let him come in my mouth ... I don't even think he came close to coming ... hell, at this point, I don't even know if it did anything to chill him out ... oh well. Oh, I think he may have fucked my tits as well. Clearly, this is a man who watches too much porn.
Then, to top it all off, I end back up in the same basement storage room where I've just sucked the owner's cock with the girlfriend of one of the bartenders under the pretense that she and I are going to make out. We did not. We actually just had a lovely little chat until one of her friends joined us and chastised me for allowing the owner to "use" me. What an insult. It was I who was using him. Anyhow, the debate was getting heated and the bartender's girlfriend was actually coming to my defense, but the owner quickly realized that we certainly weren't getting down as we'd promised and kicked us out.
Oh well. I wonder if I would've enjoyed myself more had I actually been drinking.
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
brooklyn408:
You write like a dream. I would be flatered if you would click on my profile, scroll down a bit, and check out a short story i posted there in two parts called "everyone gets what she wants." i'd love to hear what you think of it.
brooklyn408:
Thanks for the feedback on my story; I sent it to Nerve, but they never got back. You gotta know somebody in this world.... Anyway, I want to keep up with your journal, so i'm sending you a friends request.