TMI Tuesday

Ok, I am going to attempt this without giving away too much info. After all I am an ‘Anonymous Blogger’. But it seemed like fun, so here goes:

1. What were you known as in HS (Jock, Princess, Geek)?

I was a Jock for the most part. I played 3 Letter Sports: Football being my favorite. However, I also played in the ‘Band’!!! Gasp!

Yeah I did. Although I played a ‘cool’ instrument and was the only Football Stud in the band, so all the band girlies loved me cough cough. I have a deep love for music, almost as much as writing. I really enjoyed making music in the various school bands I was in. And believe me, NO ONE called me a ‘Band Geek’ lol. And yes, I did use my uh, instrument, to help me get laid in college once or three times!

2. What were you really?

As stated. Most of my friends were jocks like myself, though I did hang out with different groups of people, I never really isolated myself to just one group. Too many girls to talk too

I was also a fairly good student, carrying a 3.3 GPA (that was good in those days, no AP classes to get over 4.0 scores) and did pretty damn good on my SAT’s! I was asked by a few teachers if I wouldn’t mind being a student tutor in certain subjects… and although the possibilities were uh, intriguing… I declined.

3. If you could go back and tell your 16 year old self one thing, what would it be?

Not a damn thing! I mean I already knew everything there was to know about everything, so I most likely would have told my older version to go fuck himself

4. If you could erase one moment from your school days what would it be?

I have a few I’d rather not dredge up. Pass.

5. Who did you not date (or more) that you wish you did?

Ok, let’s rephrase that for us Boys:

5. Who did you not Bang (or more) that you wish you did?

Hmmmmm, well that list is fairly lengthy lol… I only got a couple of the cheerleaders… so yeah that’s a good start… some of the Flag girls were pretty limber, I missed out there me thinks…
And while I didn’t have any hot teachers per se, the Vice Principal was pretty hot in a stern, disciplinarian sort of way and she did have a nice rack. I can distinctly remember me being in her office after another one of my exploits and staring at her bosoms in that shirt she loved to wear not buttoned up all the way, as she lectured me. She caught me staring. She let me off. What can I say?

 I can’t really complain though, I had my fair share of High School fun.

6. If you went to prom, describe your outfit.

Went to Prom both Jr. and Sr. year. Wore the standard Prom Tux.

My Sr. year prom, now there is another story in the making… seems I had suddenly found myself without a G/F a couple weeks before and ended up taking the G/F of a guy who didn’t want to go. We had a great time. A REALLY great time. (I got a rug burn on one knee from the car carpet, heh)  When I eventually took her home early the next morning, she offered to break up with her B/F and go out with me.

I declined.

We hooked up several more times after that.

Ok so I was a bit of a bastard in those days lol…

The Word of The Day:

Is Damn.

As in:

Hooooot Damn !!!

MMmmmmmmmmmm, Damn !!!

Daaaammmmn that’s tasty!!!

Holy Shit… Damn !!!

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh Damn !!!

Damn I want to do things… !!!

You get the picture

Once again, thanks to all those who inspire me to say:

DAMN!!!!!

And here is a testiment to that inspiration:

A Seriously WTF???

Ok, it’s technically Thursday and I have noticed that the tradition around the BlogoWorld is for a WTF post to be done on Wednesday, hence: ‘WTF Wednesdays’.

But who am I to follow the rules? I enjoy breaking them much, much more than following…

So anyway… I had a really, really, seriously big WTF happen to me on Wednesday:

I get a call on my Cell Phone sometime in the early evening.

“Unknown ID”  or some such. So it’s one of those deals where the caller is blocking their number.

As a General Rule, all blocked numbers or numbers I don’t recognize go immediately to Voice Mail. I mean, how do I know it’s not my ex-wife or my boss calling on some blocked phone? Usually I don’t  feel like talking to either of them at any given moment of the day, so it’s ‘ Voice Mail I <B You’.

3 seconds later… another call… “Unknown ID”…  Straight to VM.

I then notice the little VM Icon show up.

A little bit curious, I hit my VM speedial and listen:

It’s some dude I don’t recognize and he says “Hey, I’m here parking.” I delete, thinking: “Poor bastard, wrong number.” His G/F or whoever is waiting for him is gonna be piiiissssssed!

Incoming call again: “Unkown ID”.  Again, straight to Voicemail.

Persistent little fuck isn’t he?

The Voicemail Icon pops up again.

Now, my curiosity rapidly turning into annoyance, I ignore it.

10 seconds later, ANOTHER call from “Unknown ID”:  Now I’m jamming the Ignore Button repeatedly.

10 seconds later…. ANOTHER FRIGGIN CALL from “Unknown ID”.

WTF pal?  Can you not tell you have a wrong number and I don’t want to talk to your ass?

I mean, when you listen to my VM message my voice is on it, so if you don’t know who the fuck I am why do you continue to annoy the shit out of me?

I answer it just to tell this guy to stop calling me.

I say, “Hello.”

He says, “Yeah man, I’m here parking.”

WTF??? He heard my voice, does he not understand he doesn’t fucking know me?

I say, “Uh, who are you looking for?”

He says, “This is Mike.” 

Mike.  Ok thanks Mike, I don’t know any fucking ‘Mikes’, so this helps me out for jack squat.

I say, “Sorry, you must have the wrong number.”

He says, “Aren’t you the guy I was talking to online?”

Pause.

*Clicking sound in brain as light bulb switches on over head*

Holy Fucking Shit!!!

This dude thinks I’m some guy he is trying to hook up with!!!

WTF, OVER!!!!!!!! 

Now I’m not saying I’m Homophobic… ok who the fuck am I kidding? I am. A bit.

If anyone can’t tell by my writing or comments, I loooooooooove women!!! Love love love LOVE. No sweaty ballsacks for me, no man-on-man lovin, no Nude Roman-Gecko wrestling.

Just beautiful, beautiful girl breasts and asses and legs and lips… *cough* 

Nothing wrong with being a male lover of the same sex… I’m just sayin’… whatever floats your boat, melts your butter, packs your fudge… that’s fine. It’s not my cup of tea and I’d rather not be privy to it if you know what I’m saying.

So anyway… I reply back to ‘Mike.’:

I say, “No man, I’m not. You have the WRONG NUMBER.”   Hit Hang Up button as fast as possible.

So, at this point, several things form in my mind:

1) Just who the fuck is out there on some Internet Chat Site looking for a little Man-on-Man lovin’ giving out MY FUCKING CELL NUMBER??????

(Yes, I realize that… ‘Mike’ …. may have wrote down the wrong number or the dude on the other end gave him a bogus number and it happened to be mine. Asshole.)

2) I Laugh out Loud to myself as I’m thinking: There are 2 dudes out there right now pissed off at each other because they were expecting to be smokin’ some pole by now!!!

God damn, lol.

Well if that wasn’t one of the stranger calls I’ve ever gotten.

Although to be honest?

I’d rather chit chat with Pole-Smokin ‘Mike’ than my fucking Ex-Wife any day of the week!!!

I just hope those two poor dudes finally found each other. Who knows, they could be the next BrokeBack Mountain for all we know…

BTW: I Promise Sex tomorrow…

(UPDATE : The promise of Sex was delivered upon, please see above post. Just wanted to makes sure people know that although I may be a slight tease, I do come through with the goods!)

Distracted

I have been meaning to finish my latest story:  Bzzzd  but have been finding myself quite distracted as of late.

Maybe it’s been all the nice asses I’ve seen or havn’t seen and am wishing I could see!!!

Focus SP, f’n Focus!!!

Though I like distractions like this. Good distractions. Hot, Tasty distractions. Distractions that give me nice, hot naughty thoughts.

Like when I’m at the grocery store and looking for my favorite spaghetti sauce?

I’m not really looking for my favorite spaghetti sauce. I’m checking out that delicious ass of yours… or I might be looking at how great you fill out your top… or maybe how nice and plump your lips are and thoughts of watching them wrapping around me and slowly sliding up and down…

Yeah, those kinds of distractions…

The Word of The Day:

Is Ass

How I love the female ass.

I am fascinated by it at times.

Drawn to it.

I want to handle it, feel it, grab it, cup it, clench it, spank it…… own it.

Not saying I don’t like the rest of the glorious female body… but for some reason tonight I am fixated on the Ass.    

 (I have GOT to stop looking at all the HNT pics at work.)

I just love it.

That is all…

 (Thanks to the lovely asses that inspired me tonight!)

Tease

*This was written for an old blog I had in the past, possibly directed at a couple of my regular commentors. They used to complain about the fact I would break my stories up into multiple parts, leave them hanging and wait a few days to write the next part, heh*

I’m a bad bad bad bad bad bad boy.

See, there are certain people who would say I’m a ‘Tease’. I have no idea what they are talking about.

There is this little game I like to play where I live. It’s called: ‘The Freeway Flirting Game’. I do so happen to live in the same place as that idiotic prime time soap opera with the super hot chicks: the ohhhhh seeeee? (OC) Yeah. I live there. Except I’ve been here a long time and no one, and I mean NO ONE calls it the ohhhh seeee. I can’t even bring myself to type the initials. Anyway. There are literally, a crapload of freeways here. Just take my word for it. I drive them every friggin day back and forth. Which gives me ample time to indulge myself in my little pastime.

Now, I’m not saying the girls here are stuck up. Noooo I’m not. (Not sayin she’s a gold digger, but she ain’t messin with no…. heh) However, it does take a bit of work to get under that ‘I can’t be bothered by the likes of you’ aura most of them exude out in public. Can’t say that I blame them. There are oh, 20-30 million people in the area I live in. I’m sure most girls here get hit on all the time. Common place really. So there is a little wall built up around them, out in public. Certainly not as friendly as say, the sweet, hot, sexy Georgia Peaches that I know… or the hot, saucy, little TX firecrackers that I may be in acquaintance with.

Once you get to know the girls out here, get into their confidence, they loosen up pretty quick. That and a few drinks never hurts!

Bzzzd

Her Blackberry Buzzed. An incoming Txt. She was sitting in the middle of the Quarterly Financial Meeting, mentally going over last minute details on the presentation she was about to give, as all the Regional Managers around the table were expected to do.

She didn’t pick up the phone but glanced at it. 

(Incoming Txt from DrFT. )

A shock went through her body.

“Oh God” she though… “How did….”

She thumbed the button to bring up the msg, keeping it inconspicuous while the NorthEast Regional Manager up doing his presentation. He was trying to explain why his numbers were so bad and getting hammered in the process.

She glanced down at the Txt: {10pm. Tonight.}

A shiver ran up and down her neck.

Her Blackberry Buzzed again while Mr. NE Regional Manager was being gutted in public by the various VP’s of the Division and Sr. Management Team. He looked like he was about to throw up.

(Incoming Txt from DrFT.) She thumbed it again:

{The Hyatt, next door to your hotel. I know you are already getting wet.}

She glanced back up.

“Son of a bitch, how does he do that? He always finds me when I am weak and I can’t so no”

Her pussy was definitely throbbing.

750 miles from home. 750 miles away in a semi-strange city. 750 miles away from her husband of 8 years and 2 kids. 750 miles away from home and about to give an extremely important presentation on her Regions Financials. Since she was the Regional manager, it would be her blood to spill if the VP’s had the notion to do it.

750 miles… and in the matter of 30 seconds all she could think about was… him…

She quickly replied, trying to cover it by acting like she was preparing herself to get up to do her presentation. She had a few seconds as the deflated and eviscerated NE Regional Manager slowly walked back , the Walk of Doom, back to his seat.

{Yes my pussy is wet. You know what you do to me. So stop being a bastard and just have that thick cock of yours up and ready tonight} She hit Send.

“Fucker thinks he can play with me like that! We’ll see”

5 seconds later:

(Incoming Txt from DrFT): {You are mine tonight Be ready to get fucked hard!}

As she walked up to the front of the table, her million dollar smile blazing for the Sr. Vp’s. Her 36D’s fitted oh so nicely in her business top and jacket, her skirt accenting the beautiful roundness of her ass and her long legs. She knew they were all looking. Even the defeated Mr. NE Regional manager that’s why she did it. Even at 35 she was smoking hot and she knew it. She was also a Regional Manager of a very large and successful company. On her way up the ladder.

And all she could think about was… him… him…. that raunchy devilish son of a bitch….ramming her with his hard thick cock, pulling her hair, filling her up oh so deliciously, pounding her pussy over and over and making her beg for him like a nasty little slut…

…………

The Phone Call

It was “their” fantasy, she told me.

Who was I to argue?

She had caught my eye at the restaurant/club across from my hotel. 5’3”, straight blonde hair, fantastic ass, sexy laugh and a smile that could melt the frozen tundra. She was with a ‘friend’ at the bar. I happened to go over and ‘bump’ into her. I flashed them my best smile and puppy dog eyes and they let me buy them some drinks.

Her friend was not bad, fairly attractive I would say. But it wasn’t her I was interested in. I asked Blondie to dance, making my intentions clear. Her friend got the hint after a bit as I saw her on the dance floor later with some guy.

She was sexy as hell. Her hair had those chunky highlights in it, so it was like blonde and brunette sort of mixed up. I secretly had a thought that girls who did their hair like this must love to fuck. At least I was hoping so!

We danced. We drank. We talked. We laughed.

She was here on business. Had a flight out at 11am tomorrow. Her and her co-worker it turns out, were ‘letting off steam’ after a long week of working with a client. Only one problem. She was wearing a ring. Pretty big one at that. She was 30, married for 5 years. But she seemed to be enjoying my company and had given me some nice little smiles and looks out on the dance floor. We get very close to each other when we were talking at one of the small stand up tables scattered around the place and she started touching me to emphasize a point or laugh.

I figured what the hell, she hadn’t given me the boot yet and she was sure nice as hell to look at. And I was looking.

We were back at a small table after another round of grooving out on the floor. The top she was wearing was cut low enough for me to be able to stare down at a nice valley of cleavage, as much as I could get away with it. Talking with her, looking into her eyes, dancing with her, it was all turning me on. I couldn’t help it. Until she caught me.

I looked up from her now very succulent cleavage and right into her eyes. She leaned in close to my ear and whispered “You like what you see?”

I could only nod my head, smile and say “yeah”

She grabbed my hand and led me back out onto the floor. For the next 20 minutes or so it was full on grind time. Grinding hips together, grinding her ass on me, my leg grinding up between her thighs. I had a hard on that was throbbing and ground it against her. I reached in and found her lips with mine. She closed her eyes and let me. Our tongues furiously explored each other, lips enmeshed. My cock was rock hard and I didn’t know if I could keep this up much longer without having an embarrassing situation occur.

 

Work(ed) in Progress

“Sometimes, I really am an asshole,” Jonny Reardon smiled to himself. He was leaning back in his office chair, hands clasped behind his head, overlooking the view out of his 20th story office window.

“Mr. Reardon, a Mr. Greer on Line 1 for” Beeped in Nicole his ‘administrative assistant’ over the phone intercom for the 2nd time. His door was shut so she couldn’t pop her head in and tell him directly.

A good thing… because Mrs. Greer, Mr. Greer’s hot blonde little wife, just happened to be right in between Jonny’s thighs, on her knees, head bent over, with her sweet puffy lips wrapped around his hard cock, slowly sucking their way up and down as her eyes were zeroed in on his.

“Mr. Reardon, Mr. Greer on Line 1 for! He’s says it’s extremely important! Are you there Jonny? Hellloooo?”

Jonny put his hand on Mrs. Greer’s head to stop her.

“Hold one one second honey… can’t keep the man waiting can we?”

She looked on hungrily at Jonny’s hard and rather thick cock, swollen and ready for her… “No sir, we can’t do that” she throatily breathed at him.

Jonny sat up and reached over to grab the phone… “Nicole… tell him I’ll be on the line in 1 minute”

“He’s been waiting for a while Jonny… you did set up a call with him at 11am and it’s 11:15 now,” she replied, with a little bit of attitude he could hear over the phone.

He lowered his voice low and direct, “Now you listen here Nicole, anymore lip out of you and I will spank that hot ass of yours until it’s bright red, you got that?”

“Promises promises you big fucking tease” she whispered back into the phone and hung up.

“Goddam you can’t get good help anywhere!” He grumbled.