Showing posts with label flirt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flirt. Show all posts

Monday, October 28, 2013

Worn Panties?

Attempting to re-enter the dating scene I find myself ungodly bored with all of it.  Sick of viewing pictures of the same stuck up, pretentious men.  Sick of reading the same bullshit lines about wanting a girl who ‘takes care of herself’.  Seriously, why don’t they just say ‘I’m looking for a fucking twig, no one else need apply’.  I’m sickened by the amount of men who stick to this gross idea of beauty.  But it is what it is, and frankly I don’t want a prick that thinks anything less than curvy is gorgeous!

I used to spend hours at the gym every night.  And do you know what I had time for with that lifestyle?  No one!  My life revolved around keeping those two hours set aside for the gym every night.  It’s fun.  But honestly when I live my life with a partner, I want my life to be about myself and my partner together. 

My ex and I used to go to the gym together.  And he’d watch t.v. and laugh.  Hang with his pals and show off.  Really, it was not any bit considered quality time. If anything it made me miss him more because our time was more spent apart in site of each other than together.

So, to all those assholes who feel the need to emphasize a girl’s ability to ‘take care of herself’ on their profile… all they are truly looking for is a girl with a high metabolism.  And all I can think is ‘good fucking luck’ because in the good ole’ U. S. of A. girls with hips are more in abundance.

To add to my boredom on the dating scene I recently ran into the sexiest situation I’ve endured in YEARS!!  Yes, my friends, years!  I posted some panties and a matching bra to sell online.  This stuff was new with tags and had zero sexuality added to the sales pitch.  I just wanted to make a few bucks off of something I will never wear.  Simply.

But I received a message back from someone asking what else I might have available.  I mentioned the numerous other pairs of panties I have, with tags.  They pushed further saying clearly I had some style and the natural curves to fill the panties I was selling, but wondered what used items I had.  Finding this rather curious, I acknowledged and offered some of the soon-to-be-tossed panties I have in the back of my drawer. 

He then admitted his gender… admitted his interest in these newly mentioned items… and the desire not only to purchase them but to have them freshly worn upon purchase.  I was totally skeeved out!  But given my current financial situation I bit the bullet and decided to play along. 

He mentioned a lap dance, getting closer, watching me remove these panties, etc.  Okay, ya’ll know I’m not a damn church choir girl here.  I’ve been naughty.  This shit is just about right up my alley, but I don’t know this dick from Adam.  I don’t know how old he is… what he REALLY wants to do to me… how far he is willing to go, etc. 

My mom points out the obvious… that this is a cop and I’m setting my ass up to get placed in jail.  Dually noted, but seriously, I was just trying to sell a brand new pair of unworn panties, I didn’t ask for any of this shit!! And I’d happily cry entrapment should it come down to it. 

We chat playfully back and forth.  As much as I’m becoming turned on by this entire idea, I’m also confused by his disinterest in texting me.  I’m thinking he has got to be married.  Fair enough, I think, as long as he doesn’t touch me… I can live with myself.  I avoid his every attempt to get closer or see a little more from me.  Following some due diligence.  I set up a safe exchange location.  I tell a coworker where I will be.  I even gave her his phone number should I disappear mid-exchange. I was ready for almost anything.  Except… that!!!

He was fucking gorgeous!  He met me with a glowing smile.  If I wasn’t already in heat from knowing what was going down his eyes added to it.  He was sweet as hell… kind, careful, and sexy.  It was a delicious encounter.  I had already set all the ground rules… he couldn’t touch me, and we absolutely would not be somewhere alone.   I’d all but screwed myself out of this charming encounter.  Damn me!!!

And just as satisfying were his thoughts of me.  How beautiful, smart, sexy, and fun.  Argh.  Damn intelligence, due diligence, and safety!!!  I wanted him, instantly!

We texted… all… day!  He had me… all that he wanted me, he could have me.  But suddenly he was smarter… he knew better and he wasn’t giving in.  He knew I’d fall like a sinker for him.  So I keep wondering… why can’t hot, curve-loving men like this one be on the damn dating sites?  Why do all these sexy 30 year old men think they are too damaged? Fuck that baby, I know damage and it is not anywhere near him. 

Suddenly the standard dating site is ten times more boring.  Blah!!!  Booooo-rrrr-iiinng asshole... they all are compared to Mr. Wants-My-Panties.  And since then he has been stuck in my head.  I just keep wishing I hadn’t been so safe.  I’m also looking further into this worn-panty selling business.  I joined a site.  We shall see how this goes.  Anyone have any advice, on either front?

Friday, December 4, 2009

Can I Get Off Now?

No... I don't mean an orgasm, geesh! What kind of girl do you take me for? ;)

I mean this ride? This life... of ups and way more down then any one person should ever have to endure? I want off. Even when I am at my highest... I look ahead and I see how low I am going to fall. So even in my happiest moment I am filled with fear.

I went to the gym tonight, like everynight. I was doing my run, enjoying my music, and doing my best to avoid looking his direction. I was near the end of my run and I heard a loud, loud voice boom over my music. A girl had removed her shirt to reveal a very skimpy, spaghetti strp tank and very little to no bra. Her tits were as big as mine. And as a frame of reference I am a DD. You don't fucking go to the gym with DDs and no bra support. And to top it the fuck off... you don't strip in front of the guy I'm fucking!!

I wanted to hurl myself off my machine and launch at her like a ferocious SheDevil! I filled with hate and anger. Those were my eyes! That was my smile! ... He's already moving on. I'm worthy of fucking multiple times, I'm worthy of running errands and helping him out of a bind... but that's it!?!

I remind myself... I deserve better. I pump on the weights harder and faster. I don't want to be there a moment longer than I have to be. I don't want to be in his presence. ... that fucking child. This is why I don't fuck 22 year-olds, I remind myself and angrily pound on the weights. I get out fast and head to the counter to start my tanning time.

... I am hit with a beam of the most gorgeous light. The manager is on! His incredibly, gorgeous smile; adorable, brown, spikey hair; and dimples... mmmmmm, god... the man has dimples. I ramble off my anger to him and he stands reeling me in and letting me drowned in pitty. He raises his eyebrow as I walk to my tanning room.

Inside the bed I remind myself, gym-boy is nothing. This boy, is a boy, not the hottest face, hardly able to talk, unable to take the reins and fuck me as he should... a boy! I remind myself to be happy for the sexy-man working behind the counter and to let go of the boy not worth my time.

I walk back out to the counter and start to bid him fairwell. He tells me I don't need to go. It melts me. It melts me that he enjoys having me there as much as I enjoy being there, staring into those sweet blue-gray eyes. We flirt... fearlessly... shamelessly... for over 30 minutes. It was worth the loss of sleep. He says something I thought I would definitely never hear, "if... .... then things would be different." I respect his feelings. But I still won't get over his sweet face.

Why do men make me feel like I am effortlessly flying and then being dropped from a plane in the same five-minute span? I honestly want off this roller coaster. I just want my soldier. I wish it was July aready! I wish I had him in my arms so I didn't always feel so alone! I wish I had his attention so I didn't search for something, so in vain!

It's interesting how quickly after they fuck you they lose interest. Yes, they come back a time or two... but its nothing real. It's not friendship or respect... it's just a chance to cum. ... And I'm good at making that happen, so I guess that is what I do for now. But I want off... soon, very soon?

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Love The Gym?

I've recently found such a huge passion for going to my gym. When I first started going to the gym I thought it was crappy. I never got the energy. It was a challenge to get my ass up, dressed, out the door. It was all about motivation and wanting to be there, and the truth was I didn't want to be there. But I've found a reason to be there.



Part of my huge desire to go has to do with the 45 lbs I've lost. It feels incredible. I love knowing that I can run nearly three miles with ease. I love the compliments and people constantly asking, "are you losing weight". But even losing the weight doesn't make going to the gym fun...



I think I love it because when I'm there... I use the eliptical directly behind the weight area. I can run and stare at hot guys with sweat dripping and delicious muscles bulging. Mmmmmph... jesus! It's astonishing I don't hurl myself off the machine. Then when I'm lifting weights I get to walk near them... wiggle playfully. It feels like a sexy, hot game of cat and mouse. And the looks I get back are just as playful. But with headsets in, no one ever really talks. We all just look, we smile, we wiggle, and I giggle.



Even better is walking into the gym and the incredibly gorgeous guy working the counter. The more I see him and his adorable smile, talk with him, and tease him lightly... the more I want to jump over the counter and rip his clothes off starting with that baseball cap hiding his uber-sexy man hair!! He makes me feel like a starving lioness and his shy, dimpled, boyish grin totally makes me wet my panties! In my gym fantasy I always imagined myself with a fellow gym-goer in the tanning room slamming against the walls and down onto the bench, but he has me second-guessing my fantasy... wishing I could have him instead. So I flirt... and love every second of it.



So I go... almost everyday. I surely hate Mondays, but his ass is hot enough to get me there anyday! Can I really love going to the gym? ... I'll take whatever motivation I can get to get me there, for now.