I am a blog goddess with 100 comments!  

empress_evie 39F
134 posts
9/3/2005 5:32 pm

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

I am a blog goddess with 100 comments!


What shall I do to celebrate my 100 comments? What shall I do to thank my loyal readers? Haven't the slightest, really. I don't feel like moving today - merely typing is an effort... God, I love these lazy-ass Saturdays. But I'm sure I'll think of something tasty to do (or at least to write... or to do, then to write about) once I've shaken off this pleasant lethargy.

In any case, thank you ALL for reading and I'll do my best to continue to amuse you with tales of sluttitude! Seriously, I AM considering the camera. I'm such an exhibitionist whore. But only online. Webxibitionist? Heh.

And okay, I'm kind of an exhibitionist whore in general - but a closet one. Heh, a closet exhibitionist. I'm amusing myself today. For example, yesterday: my friend I was to meet canceled on me (sigh... ah well, he thrives on spontanaeity, so I should probably ditch the whole making-plans thing and do the "hey, wanna come over now?" thing - I might stand a chance of seeing him!) - so I got a chance to meet up with Gav, a guy I'd been planning to meet for a while (months!), but bouts of conscience kept coming up and stopping me. Well, the conscience is in remission, so he finally drove out...

...and after my Naked Day, which had gotten me soaking wet and which I really have to do more often, I decided to go commando... how lovely! I felt deviously sexy, walking around in my cute skirt and tank top (I'm still kind of a prude, I threw an overshirt over it in case the tank top dipped too low and exposed too much braless flesh, but it was a sheer silk shirt, so there) and thinking "I am not wearing any underwear." The slight breeze hit my pussy... oh so nice.

We met up in this place just a few doors down from my apartment, and Gav was just too cute for his own good - and got back to my place and casually threw his legs over mine on the couch, kissed me gently, then yanked my hair to pull me up against him - and seemed a bit surprised when I made an "mmmm" of assent. "You like that?" he asked. "Sometimes," I said, tangling my fingers in his hair, "it's just not fun to be in charge all the time." (The boy, my long-distance guy whom I just saw last weekend, the reason for my temporary disappearance... I kind of end up in charge a lot with him. Not "in charge" with pain and leather and direct orders, but just guiding the way things will go. So being a little dominated can be fun.)

He liked being in charge. I liked it, too, but also realized - I'm not submissive, not by nature. Someone's the boss of me in bed, and I have to turn around a few minutes later and be the boss of THEM. I also like it when it's not a game, not in the sense of you-do-this-I-do-that, but I've mentioned that before... and for some people, the game is the fun part. And for me, sometimes but not often, the game is the fun part.

It was quite nice last night. But I realize I wasn't the partner I could have been... and the reason is this: The Squashy Factor.

Gav is 22. I am not. There's only 6 years difference between us - but 22 to 28 is a BIG 6 years, not like 28 to 34. It's a difference I could feel first when we were talking - Gav's a smart funny conversationalist (like all the guys I sleep with!) but he talked about who he wanted to BECOME. Like, after college. Meanwhile, I've become someone, whether I wanted to or not. God, I am SO OLD.

Then we got into bed and I can only describe him as "lithe," also "toned," but more accurately "22". Not an ounce of spare flesh on the guy. (His cock was like him - lean, long, solid... a fantastic piece of masculinity, that.) Meanwhile, here I am looking at him... and I was reminded of a scene from Bridget Jones's Diary (the book, not the movie) when Bridget, thirtyish, ends up almost in bed with a hottie 22-year-old (named Gav - hence the alias). They're gettin' it on and she's delighting at his energy and hottieness and then he puts a hand on her stomach and goes "Mmmmm. You're all squashy." And she couldn't go through with it.

Gav didn't SAY I was squashy. But I was so conscious that I was so very much not 22 anymore... I could have been a much better partner than I was. God I am OLD.

I actually listen intently to my friends talking about MORTGAGES. I HAVE friends who talk seriously about mortgages. "Mortgage" is a silly word when you look at it long enough. Marriages and babies and politics and adult crap like that.... God, my girlfriends and I are OLD!!!

Of course, we talk about this stuff while we're watching "Army of Darkness" and eating cheap pizza. Also, Emma (a CPA) will still yell "PENIS!" in a crowded room if you dare her. Okay, so we're not that old yet.

redswallow777 48M
6810 posts
9/4/2005 12:18 am

Congrats for reaching your first 100....keep on a blogin....


JustMeat1973 43M

9/4/2005 2:08 am

Hey ------SQUASHY ????? Um , no ----------- not even close. Anyway -- I called you after a bout of horniness............ what say you, lass ??


rm_jan4fun51 47M

9/5/2005 8:00 am

Maybe you'd like to try an older guy as an antidote ... as long as you don't call me "squashy".


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