Happy New Year: The Sext Message Edition
So I've decided to turn a new leaf. I wrote off a certain emotional/sexual basket case almost one year ago (once we had finished fucking all over his boss' house) as a result of being tired of the weirdness.
He wasn't the only one who could go for hours and still have enough energy for cunnilingus choreography. Though he's top three best I've had. I'll give him that.
But he recently got in touch via text, as he usually does, to "check in" and see how I am. (Translating to: Is your vagina single and available?) It usually leads to reminiscing about one of several all-nighters that ended in a pool of sweat.
Well just an hour ago I received another. Hoping I had a nice holiday and that I'm doing well. Aw, how sweet. Rather than a neutral response, I decided to bring sexy back. Not saying I'm going back into random mode, but why not keep my options open?
It's been exactly one year since our last tryst and no hurt in indulging with someone who seems to care about my well being but definitely without a doubt wants to give me everything I
CSUN Womens Soccer
TicketsThu., Oct. 26, 7:00pm
Los Angeles Lakers vs. Toronto Raptors
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UCLA Women's Soccer v California & UCLA Men's Soccer v Washington
TicketsSun., Oct. 29, 1:00pm
South Bay Lakers vs. Northern Arizona Suns
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Los Angeles Lakers vs. Detroit Pistons
TicketsTue., Oct. 31, 7:30pm
Well sure, dear. I think that sounds fine. Let's just skip the porn event. They're lame.
Then Mr. Man asked what lucky guy would be tasting me tonight. And I honestly didn't know what to say. My game time decision to go to a random party in the Valley meant I'd be surrounded by men and women I'd never met, which usually makes for the most fun. No one knows me, and who the hell knows if we'll see each other again. This means I can be whoever I want.
And then "ding ding." Text message:
So one year after our final fuck-fest (which funny enough took place after I spent an evening with strangers at a holiday party) we may schedule a follow-up visit. Why the change of heart?
Because Mr. Man will be satisfied only after he hears me startle the neighbors and is covered in my...sweat. If he comes, too, it's merely a bonus. And frankly my dears, I don't give a damn. I'm in the business of pleasure. My pleasure.
At this point in my life, entry into my bedroom goes only to those following that same career path. The rest of you can wait outside. The next round of auditions is slated for spring 2011. Follow me on Twitter for updates.
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