Wishing and Hoping and Wondering

Sometime next week, I am supposed to see "HIM", Mr. Lickable, Mr. Pie a la Mode. He is supposed to be passing through town and has said he will stop by my work on the way/at some point that day.

Part of me is totally excited and part of me is TOTALLY FREAKING OUT! I feel like doomsday is arriving, any second now, the sun will go supernova and the earth will explode.

I know only one thing, I must look smokin' for him....if he is going to end this, I want to look so hot that he questions his motivations and wonders if he is doing the right thing. So, I spent the weekend clothes shopping (ugh) for a really nice short black skirt. Short enough to show off my legs, make me look sexy, but long enough that it will pass muster at work.

On the one hand, I am totally excited that I might see him, but on the other, I am worried that he is going to use this meeting as an excuse to finally break it off with me. Not that much is going on at this point. Since the whole "web cam" fiasco (jeepers it was just a question, not the Spanish inquisition) and me going from feeling like a cyber mistress to a $10 ho that got gypped out of her $10 in the space of a few minutes, I have been waiting around like a bitch in heat for his next sex related e-mail, but to no avail. I was told that he needed time, that he doesn't like feeling good about it one minute, then guilty the next, but that was a month ago and no more "sex talk" from him. Now, I may have an advanced degree, but why am I so stupid not to realize that a month is a long time not to want to flirt/have cyber sex with a girl and that if I were not so desperate for this guy's attentions I would realize that that probably means he's not interested in me anymore.

Either way, I am totally frustrated that while he isn't sending me flirty e-mails anymore or even e-mailing my "alter ego" account anymore, he is still e-mailing me stuff at my work e-mail. It has me totally confused! Of course, he can't say that much in my work e-mails and the frustration is that neither can I, especially since I have to be REALLY careful what I send in my work e-mail, but again....if he just wanted to totally break it off, why even bother replying or sending me an e-mail with a question in it that he knows I'll answer to my work e-mail. Why not just not e-mail at all??? Then I would definitely take the hint.

And all this just makes me feel stupid. Makes me feel like I trusted too much, that I opened myself up to much, that he has all the power. It makes me feel angry with myself that I let him know how much I like him and desire him (which was fine when he was fully engaged, but now makes me upset with myself because I don't know if he just wants to dump me and doesn't know how and I feel so stupid).

Part of me holds out hope that he really does like me and is just struggling or really too afraid to e-mail from home anymore for fear that the wife will find out, but the other part of me feels used, like he got what he wanted and just doesn't know how to extricate himself because we do occassionally work together.

It makes me feel less and less desirable every day. It makes me feel like a used tissue still stuck to someone's shoe after they've left the lavatory. I hate myself for liking him so much, for wanting him so much, for trusting him so much, for revealing too much of myself to him.

Part of me just wants to crawl in a hole and part of me wants to figure out where to go to safely find some anonymous cyber buddy (who I never met/knew in person) and just have a casual cyber fling with just to make me feel better about myself again.

I know not many people read this, but if you have any advice out there I'll take it.

In the meantime, I want to see him, I want him to tell me what's going on (even if I don't want to hear anything like "I don't want this anymore", even if I don't want to be the person getting dumped or rejected) and at the same time I am so afraid of what will happen....I want him to want me.....why doesn't he want me?

I feel like Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally" when she finds out her ex is marrying the transitional girl. "What's wrong with me?, Why doesn't he want me?"

Who doesn't like a blow job?

Okay, everyone out there....how can you not like a blow job or even giving a blow job???????

I am amazed and appalled to find that not every one likes cunnilingus!!! What the fuck!

How can you be opposed to it? It is a basic human right!

And yet.....a girl asks her man if he wants a blow job and instead of jumping up and saying YES PLEASE! he claims a headache and heads to bed early! Again WHAT THE FUCK!

Now, I might like to give head, but I'm not going to beg to do it.....so where does all that sexual tension and energy go????

It goes down to the fitness room of the hotel, where said gal runs her way to release!

Pounding on the treadmill, picturing Mr. Lickable going down on me and giving me the best head of my life is what gets a girl through the night....so while he may be unattainable, he certainly has his uses!

And so I sit here in the lobby of my hotel at almost 1am, fucking hot and horny and all I want is to give some guy a blow job and yet......I have a feeling it's going to be a long, lonely, unfulfilled night.....

FUCK ME PLEASE! Or at least step up and let me give you a blow job!

Limber and Stacked!

So, a funny thing happened on the way to my yoga class....I was grabbing something that I could change into for yoga after work and I made the bold fashionista choice of wearing a spaghetti strap white tank top (oooohhhh how daring-wearing white after Labor Day) to match a pair of gray cropped sweats with turquoise and white piping. Yes, only a girl (or a gay man) would worry so much about matching an outfit that she is going to sweat her brains out in after an hour of twisting her body into a pretzel just so she can be super limber while having sex! I think it's built into our genetic code-the obsession to match bras and panties with socks and purses.

Okay, so where's the bold move??? Well first...the white top is definitely see thru and I decided to dust off the bra I bought to wear for you and haven't gotten a chance to show you yet....hot pink and super conforming....but definitely shows through the white tank top but gives me a nice layered sexxy look....come on-the innocent white top with a bit of hot pink showing through and pink straps definitely highlighting the thinness of the white spaghetti straps-it's got definite fuck me appeal going for it. Plus the white top and the pink bra are made out of a show off every curve, stretch tightly across each swell of breast material. One breeze and there will definitely be nipple action. The top and bra definitely are made for each other with their accent the breasts ability.

So, I toss them in my bag and go off to a long day at work filled with meetings and lack of sleep. Two nights in a row of getting only 3 hours sleep each night, sucked into watching online episodes of "True Blood"-lots of sex, nudity, and good old fashioned girl wants guy/guy wants girl but of course there are complications which make the sexual tension something you can cut with a hacksaw-but that's HBO for you. But, by afternoon, I've gotten my second wind and am ready for some sweaty, centering exercise, so I change and head off to the yoga studio....ready to make myself oh so bendable.

Entering the studio, I roll out my mat, grab a blanket and a block and begin the warm up sequence that will eventually lead to several sun salutations, hip openers, and some wild balancing positions that can definitely make sex interesting. As I'm sliding from my first "upward facing dog" into "downward dog" I realize that my white oh so stretched across my breasts top has gotten looser at the bottom, causing my top to pull away from my breasts as I assume the position that will easily allow a man to slide up from behind and stick his hard cock into a most pleasurable spot.

Distracted I glance down from my upside down position, trying to keep my form, but at the same time realizing that the person posing directly across from me is going to get a straight shot down my top at my huge breasts straining against the silky smooth hot pink fabric of my bra. Every mound, every bit of delectable flesh, the tiny key hole cutout between each breast topped with a cute little ribbon rose can be seen by one and all if they just look in my direction.

Not wanting to break form and lose the burn of my thigh muscles stretching my ass higher and higher into the air, I do the only thing I can think of, I dip my head down, blocking the view with the top of my head as I stare straight down my top at those luscious, perfectly melon shaped mounds of biteable flesh.

It is at this moment that I realize....that this bra definitely needs a work out from you. The feel of your hands across my breasts, squeezing them, dipping your thumbs over the material underneath to stroke and tease my nipples till they strain; hard and pointed against the silky material, your lips wet on my hot sweaty skin, licking and teasing, biting on the soft flesh, sucking my nipples till I want to scream with ecstasy then feeling your hard cock slide it's way into my wet cunt as you slip my bottoms off and I slide on top of you and ride you till the cum pores out of me and then you flip me over and slide into me for another round of fucking and sucking every inch of my hot, sweaty sexxy body.

These thoughts continue for the next 15 minutes of yoga class as I transition back and forth from chair to plank to upward facing dog into downward facing dog, each time trying to "modestly" block the view of my breasts from the yoga student across from me, all the while wishing it were you staring at my breasts feeling your cock grow hard with the desire to fuck me over and over again.

Finally, the sun salutations are done, I tug down my top, smoothing it against my body as I assume the camel pose---a perfect exercise to strengthen the knees and back for prolonged sessions of kneeling in front of your sweet, hard cock as I take it into my mouth, anticipating the warm taste of your cum rolling over my tongue as I blow you over and over and over again....

Don't Drink and Dial

I am totally wasted and want him to fuck me up the ass right now, but I am good and while I have thrown up 3 times (make that 6-finally beat my college record of 4), I have not e-mailed him....don't drink and dial if you want to save face...

Why is it ALWAYS a Man?

I spent the better part of my work day dreaming about a certain someone who has gotten under my skin lately. The hard part is alternately picturing pleasuring him in "oh so many ways" and then trying to decipher all of his signals....it could make a gal go crazy both physically and mentally all at the same time.

One minute I'm giving a presentation and the next I am thinking about licking his stiff penis with my tongue. I dream about going out to dinner with him, wearing a low cut blouse so that I can tease him with a bit of lacy bra, then ordering a drink with a piece of lime and a cherry, just so I can slide the cherry over my lips, onto my tongue, then biting it in half and sucking on it before I drop it back into my drink, just in the hopes that him seeing me do this will get his cock hard.

The hardest part is that I want him so bad and I know that ultimately he is not good for me....he has turned me into a raving sexpot instead of the meek little office gal that I usually am. A switch has been flipped and all I want to do is climb into his arms and fuck his brains out, but I can't and it is agony.

I love the fantasy, I want the fantasy, but I am beginning to think that it is all some crazy dream that I had and as time passes it is going from a reality to a hollow memory. I want to taste this man's cum so badly and yet the more I think I let him know I want him, the more I think he is slipping away....it makes me just want to pick up the phone and call him a cunt tease and then walk away....but instead I think of him more and more and the fact that he has such power over my thoughts makes me feel like begging him to release this bond that he has formed so casually.

I can't help it....I know that I still want to fuck this man so hard he begs me to stop and yet I'm going to say it.....

you are a cunt tease

(now get over here and fuck me pretty please-with Sugar on top!)

Erato....

Erato is the Greek muse associated with erotic poetry. She is also my muse for this blog. What is life without poetry? Poetry is a way to express our thoughts, feelings, experiences, sensations. All too often we hide the erotic sides of our lives, pulling a cloak over our true selves in order to blend in with common society. Our thoughts and actions may co-exist, but that doesn't mean that our outward actions express our inner thoughts.

In my thinking, life is a shallow and empty pursuit if it does not allow for some form of poetry (be it spoken, thought, written down, or acted upon) to bring one closer to their true self, the self that is never fully revealed to the outside world for fear of rejection, retribution, or even regret. Situations vary, sometimes we can't open up to others, while other times we don't want to show our true selves to those around us. It is a fine line that must be walked with care. But, there is a point when one wants the world to know her thoughts, words, deeds and not be shunned for being oneself and so I turn to the anonymous world of the Internet to reveal my thoughts and desires without judgement by my peers.

It is here that I choose to reveal my inner most thoughts on love, life, and sexuality....if you want to know more about what makes me tick, what arouses my senses, then please open the book, turn the page, continue to read, but if you are afraid to know the real me, if that is too "intimate" for you, then by all means close this book and seek out another....there are plenty on the shelves.