Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Felt up in a trailer park, and other fun childhood memories...
Today I got a Friend Request on Facebook from a woman named Jessica. I looked at her pictures, and she only had two posted. Neither looked familiar. I thought it was probably spam and that if I looked around long enough I would find her seductive request for me to check out her naughty photos on another website. But just before I clicked away, I saw that she went to the same high school I did in El Cajon, a suburb of San Diego, and graduated the same year. I looked at the pictures again. Nope, I still didn't recognize her.
I sent her a message saying:
Your face definitely looks familiar, but it has been a long time. I'm going to have to pull out my yearbooks. Hope you're well in Kansas! Tony
And here was her reply:
you were my bestest bud like 10 grade...had honors english together...um used to hang out, my mom was crazy and felt you up once.. lol
Ooooohhhhhh, this is Jessica whose Mom felt me up! That's right. I went to go visit her down the street from where I lived in her trailer park. I can't remember what we were doing that day, but I remember her Mom flirting with me. Then as I was leaving her Mom followed me outside into the driveway that ran through the park. She gave me a hug goodbye, and then put her hand on my crotch and said something like, "You sure are a cutie. Why don't you let Momma check out the goods." Even at 15 I thought it was hysterical. Crazy woman! However, I do also recall that I wanted to visit Jessica at home more often...
Oddly, that was not the first time a mother felt me up. The year before that when I was 14, we lived in an apartment complex, and our apartment faced the pool. Across the pool was another apartment inhabited by a woman with two kids named Elizabeth who couldn't have been older than 19. Liz was a pretty woman with curly dark hair, and she lived with her very tall husband named Darren. In the summer between my freshman and sophomore year I was home all the time, and I started hanging out with Liz to pass the time.
She could tell when my mom was home because she could see Mom's parking space from her living room window. One day when the parking space was empty Liz came over to my house and opened the door without knocking. I was laying on the couch in the living room talking on the phone. Liz closed the door and came in. I gave her a funny look, but kept talking. Liz walked over to me and straddled me on the couch, and I quickly became very aware that her genitals were closer to mine than anyone's had ever been before. She reached back and put her hand down the leg of my shorts, and within seconds was rubbing my crotch. She used her other hand to grab one of my hands in the front and push it up her shirt. I was so nervous that I kept my conversation going on the phone out of complete fear of what would happen should it end. Liz got annoyed that I wasn't getting off the phone though, and before long she got up and did a little tantrum walk as she left the house and slammed the door.
On a warm night soon after that Liz and I met in the pool. Darren wasn't home, and Liz decided to try again. As we talked and swam around in the pool, she started getting very flirty. Soon her top came off, and she backed me up to the edge of the pool, conveniently covering the only light in the area. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled my face to her as I started licking her breasts. I can't remember what stopped it, but I think it might have been Mom calling me from the living room.
Liz's last attempt was made in her house one night when Darren was out. We were hanging out watching movies in her house, and I remember her laying on the floor next to me. I can't remember how it started but I do remember some connection between her breasts and my boner. But as I laid there on the floor, Darren walked in. I rolled onto my stomach in about a half second, and then laid there greeting Darren and asking about his day while I waited for my pants to loosen up. As soon as I felt I could stand without my tent pole giving me away, I said goodbye and practically ran out the door.
Darren was no fool though, and after that Liz said she wasn't allowed to hang out with me anymore. I didn't care though. At the end of that summer I got my first bj from a girl in the grade below me, and Liz with her lactating breasts became old news.
I slept with very few women in the next few years because by 17 I realized that my time was much better spent with men, but interestingly, the last woman I slept with in December 2003 in Sydney was a mother. She may very well be the last woman I have sex with. Wouldn't it be interesting if I started and ended my female sexual experiences with mothers? I guess that brings a new definition to the term "Momma's Boy"...
I sent her a message saying:
Your face definitely looks familiar, but it has been a long time. I'm going to have to pull out my yearbooks. Hope you're well in Kansas! Tony
And here was her reply:
you were my bestest bud like 10 grade...had honors english together...um used to hang out, my mom was crazy and felt you up once.. lol
Ooooohhhhhh, this is Jessica whose Mom felt me up! That's right. I went to go visit her down the street from where I lived in her trailer park. I can't remember what we were doing that day, but I remember her Mom flirting with me. Then as I was leaving her Mom followed me outside into the driveway that ran through the park. She gave me a hug goodbye, and then put her hand on my crotch and said something like, "You sure are a cutie. Why don't you let Momma check out the goods." Even at 15 I thought it was hysterical. Crazy woman! However, I do also recall that I wanted to visit Jessica at home more often...
Oddly, that was not the first time a mother felt me up. The year before that when I was 14, we lived in an apartment complex, and our apartment faced the pool. Across the pool was another apartment inhabited by a woman with two kids named Elizabeth who couldn't have been older than 19. Liz was a pretty woman with curly dark hair, and she lived with her very tall husband named Darren. In the summer between my freshman and sophomore year I was home all the time, and I started hanging out with Liz to pass the time.
She could tell when my mom was home because she could see Mom's parking space from her living room window. One day when the parking space was empty Liz came over to my house and opened the door without knocking. I was laying on the couch in the living room talking on the phone. Liz closed the door and came in. I gave her a funny look, but kept talking. Liz walked over to me and straddled me on the couch, and I quickly became very aware that her genitals were closer to mine than anyone's had ever been before. She reached back and put her hand down the leg of my shorts, and within seconds was rubbing my crotch. She used her other hand to grab one of my hands in the front and push it up her shirt. I was so nervous that I kept my conversation going on the phone out of complete fear of what would happen should it end. Liz got annoyed that I wasn't getting off the phone though, and before long she got up and did a little tantrum walk as she left the house and slammed the door.
On a warm night soon after that Liz and I met in the pool. Darren wasn't home, and Liz decided to try again. As we talked and swam around in the pool, she started getting very flirty. Soon her top came off, and she backed me up to the edge of the pool, conveniently covering the only light in the area. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled my face to her as I started licking her breasts. I can't remember what stopped it, but I think it might have been Mom calling me from the living room.
Liz's last attempt was made in her house one night when Darren was out. We were hanging out watching movies in her house, and I remember her laying on the floor next to me. I can't remember how it started but I do remember some connection between her breasts and my boner. But as I laid there on the floor, Darren walked in. I rolled onto my stomach in about a half second, and then laid there greeting Darren and asking about his day while I waited for my pants to loosen up. As soon as I felt I could stand without my tent pole giving me away, I said goodbye and practically ran out the door.
Darren was no fool though, and after that Liz said she wasn't allowed to hang out with me anymore. I didn't care though. At the end of that summer I got my first bj from a girl in the grade below me, and Liz with her lactating breasts became old news.
I slept with very few women in the next few years because by 17 I realized that my time was much better spent with men, but interestingly, the last woman I slept with in December 2003 in Sydney was a mother. She may very well be the last woman I have sex with. Wouldn't it be interesting if I started and ended my female sexual experiences with mothers? I guess that brings a new definition to the term "Momma's Boy"...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Life is a Series of Stages
I hung out with my friend Brian yesterday who broke up with his boyfriend Mark two weeks ago. It puts me in a funny mood to hang out with someone just after a breakup. Hopefully all he perceived was a supportive friend, but on the inside it made me a bit sad. Each breakup I hear about yanks at something in my gut that is losing faith in the idea of long-term relationships.
The only model for a long relationship that I have is my mother's parents. They married when they were 20/21, and stayed together for the rest of their lives. For some reason, however, that value wasn't passed to their children. Mom had three marriages, and her brother and sister each had more than that. I'm the first to admit that they had some bad marriages and that staying in those relationships was probably not the best choice, but the fact of the matter is that the relationships I saw in my youth have all ended.
I had my first boyfriend at 18 for 5 months, and then my second at 20 for 14 months. When Matt and I broke up I was 21, and it was the first time I realized that I might be starting the same pattern that my mother's generation had experienced. It scared me. But as I pulled myself through the breakup, I thought back on something my mom had told me when I was a teenager. I can't remember now what brought it up, but I remember mom telling me that life is a series of stages, and that you have to expect changes. Maybe for one stage in your life, a relationship is what you need, but then in the next stage you don't need it anymore. It made sense at the time. And it was comforting as I broke up with Matt.
But then I fell in love with Lenny, and then Scott, and now I'm single again. And sometimes now I think about the implications of mom's statement. If I accept that statement as truth, then do I prevent myself from finding a relationship that lasts through the stages? If I internalized that concept in my 20's, then do I approach relationships now as if they are temporary?
I guess what got me thinking about it this weekend is that I am developing a crush on a friend of mine. We have only known each other for a couple months, but I liked him right off the bat and was really excited about getting to be friends with him. Then when I stopped seeing Daniel, the line between friendship and flirtation blurred. I have been keeping him at arms length because I didn't want to risk losing him as a friend, but as I laid with him taking a nap today I realized that the fear I have of losing him as a friend is based on my assumption that if we date, it will end. That assumption is tied to my belief in mom's theory of stages. But I think now that the assumption of relationships being temporary is a disservice to myself, and that it is not the most productive outlook when you're single and dating. Why not give a new relationship the possibility of permanance?
For many, life is indeed a series of stages. But I kind of like the idea of Happily Ever After. I hope it doesn't only exist in fairy tales. Or if it does, I hope I find my prince.
The only model for a long relationship that I have is my mother's parents. They married when they were 20/21, and stayed together for the rest of their lives. For some reason, however, that value wasn't passed to their children. Mom had three marriages, and her brother and sister each had more than that. I'm the first to admit that they had some bad marriages and that staying in those relationships was probably not the best choice, but the fact of the matter is that the relationships I saw in my youth have all ended.
I had my first boyfriend at 18 for 5 months, and then my second at 20 for 14 months. When Matt and I broke up I was 21, and it was the first time I realized that I might be starting the same pattern that my mother's generation had experienced. It scared me. But as I pulled myself through the breakup, I thought back on something my mom had told me when I was a teenager. I can't remember now what brought it up, but I remember mom telling me that life is a series of stages, and that you have to expect changes. Maybe for one stage in your life, a relationship is what you need, but then in the next stage you don't need it anymore. It made sense at the time. And it was comforting as I broke up with Matt.
But then I fell in love with Lenny, and then Scott, and now I'm single again. And sometimes now I think about the implications of mom's statement. If I accept that statement as truth, then do I prevent myself from finding a relationship that lasts through the stages? If I internalized that concept in my 20's, then do I approach relationships now as if they are temporary?
I guess what got me thinking about it this weekend is that I am developing a crush on a friend of mine. We have only known each other for a couple months, but I liked him right off the bat and was really excited about getting to be friends with him. Then when I stopped seeing Daniel, the line between friendship and flirtation blurred. I have been keeping him at arms length because I didn't want to risk losing him as a friend, but as I laid with him taking a nap today I realized that the fear I have of losing him as a friend is based on my assumption that if we date, it will end. That assumption is tied to my belief in mom's theory of stages. But I think now that the assumption of relationships being temporary is a disservice to myself, and that it is not the most productive outlook when you're single and dating. Why not give a new relationship the possibility of permanance?
For many, life is indeed a series of stages. But I kind of like the idea of Happily Ever After. I hope it doesn't only exist in fairy tales. Or if it does, I hope I find my prince.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Tweety
My Labor Day weekend was a hedonistic field day complete with dancing, making out with a hot guy in a bar, making out with him again at a street fair, sleeping with a gorgeous friend of mine, and a messy attempt at a threesome where after 10 minutes I fell asleep between the guys. But nothing was as interesting as Tweety.
On Sunday after going out dancing I went to meet Umecke at someone's house where people were drinking the night away. As soon as I walked in she introduced me to an attractive young brunette named Yvette and said, "I already got her to take her pants off for us. She's hilarious."
Before getting settled I went to the kitchen and got myself a drink. When I returned to the living room, I sat across the room from Yvette. She was mumbling something that I couldn't quite understand, and I realized that she was pretty trashed. Umecke clued me in that she was busting some freestyle poetry. (Seriously, bad sign) Once Yvette saw that she had my attention she raised her voice and started including me in her busted poetry. She rhymed about my tank top, my muscles, and my wrist cuff being on the wrong wrist. Obviously very deep stuff. Then the rhyming stopped.
Yvette got up and stood in front of me. "I like your muscles," she said. "I want to bite them."
Me: Um, ok.
She bit my left bicep. Everyone in the room laughed.
Yvette: Do you want to see my Tweety?
I have a friend with a Tweety Bird tattoo on his leg, so I figured she must have some similar art somewhere.
Me: Um, ok.
Yvette faced away from me, undid her tight jeans, and slid them down to her knees. Underneath she had flesh colored see-through g-string panties. She bent over a little bit and gave me a wide view of her ass (my inner voice was thanking Jesus I couldn't see Mr. Winky), then looked back at me over her left shoulder. I bet I looked a little confused.
She then turned around and started dancing very slowly in front of me. Thanks to the shearness of her panties I could see her brown bush underneath. Despite the awe-struck faces and giggles in the room, Yvette began pulling on the side strings of her panties that normally held her panties on her hips.
Me: (Confused) Yvette, where is your Tweety?
Yvette: (Pointing to her vagina) This is my Tweety!
Me: Ohhhhh, my bad. Um, nice Tweety? (To everyone else in the room:) Well I for one didn't think I would see a vagina tonight. You guys?
Yvette pulled her pants back up and walked over to my friend Dimitri who was sitting on the floor near me. She leaned down and said, "You're wearing fireman pants.'' She straddled him. "I fuck firemen!"
Dimitri: Oh??? (A little scared looking)
Yvette: I dated a fireman once. (Whispering:) But he had a tiny penis.
Dimitri: Really? I dated a fireman once too but he had a big penis.
Yvette: (Looking very intrigued) Really? Do you still know him?
The rest of the room is rolling at this point. Yvette stood up and saw me sitting in a different chair. She came over to me, pulled her pants down again, and sat in my lap. She leaned back on me and put her right hand in her panties. I looked in disbelief at Umecke. Yvette lifted the panty string over her right hip and said, "Bite it."
I said, "Only if someone takes a picture.'' In two seconds, three phone cameras were in my face. I bit it. As soon as someone sends me one of those pictures I promise I will share.
Yvette got up and walked outside. After a couple minutes I realized that nothing inside was nearly as entertaining as her, so I went to the balcony to find her. She was in the middle of telling a story that had something to do with something going up her butt.
Me: Baby, what are you on?
Yvette: Life
Me: You might want to smoke a bit less Life next time.
On Sunday after going out dancing I went to meet Umecke at someone's house where people were drinking the night away. As soon as I walked in she introduced me to an attractive young brunette named Yvette and said, "I already got her to take her pants off for us. She's hilarious."
Before getting settled I went to the kitchen and got myself a drink. When I returned to the living room, I sat across the room from Yvette. She was mumbling something that I couldn't quite understand, and I realized that she was pretty trashed. Umecke clued me in that she was busting some freestyle poetry. (Seriously, bad sign) Once Yvette saw that she had my attention she raised her voice and started including me in her busted poetry. She rhymed about my tank top, my muscles, and my wrist cuff being on the wrong wrist. Obviously very deep stuff. Then the rhyming stopped.
Yvette got up and stood in front of me. "I like your muscles," she said. "I want to bite them."
Me: Um, ok.
She bit my left bicep. Everyone in the room laughed.
Yvette: Do you want to see my Tweety?
I have a friend with a Tweety Bird tattoo on his leg, so I figured she must have some similar art somewhere.
Me: Um, ok.
Yvette faced away from me, undid her tight jeans, and slid them down to her knees. Underneath she had flesh colored see-through g-string panties. She bent over a little bit and gave me a wide view of her ass (my inner voice was thanking Jesus I couldn't see Mr. Winky), then looked back at me over her left shoulder. I bet I looked a little confused.
She then turned around and started dancing very slowly in front of me. Thanks to the shearness of her panties I could see her brown bush underneath. Despite the awe-struck faces and giggles in the room, Yvette began pulling on the side strings of her panties that normally held her panties on her hips.
Me: (Confused) Yvette, where is your Tweety?
Yvette: (Pointing to her vagina) This is my Tweety!
Me: Ohhhhh, my bad. Um, nice Tweety? (To everyone else in the room:) Well I for one didn't think I would see a vagina tonight. You guys?
Yvette pulled her pants back up and walked over to my friend Dimitri who was sitting on the floor near me. She leaned down and said, "You're wearing fireman pants.'' She straddled him. "I fuck firemen!"
Dimitri: Oh??? (A little scared looking)
Yvette: I dated a fireman once. (Whispering:) But he had a tiny penis.
Dimitri: Really? I dated a fireman once too but he had a big penis.
Yvette: (Looking very intrigued) Really? Do you still know him?
The rest of the room is rolling at this point. Yvette stood up and saw me sitting in a different chair. She came over to me, pulled her pants down again, and sat in my lap. She leaned back on me and put her right hand in her panties. I looked in disbelief at Umecke. Yvette lifted the panty string over her right hip and said, "Bite it."
I said, "Only if someone takes a picture.'' In two seconds, three phone cameras were in my face. I bit it. As soon as someone sends me one of those pictures I promise I will share.
Yvette got up and walked outside. After a couple minutes I realized that nothing inside was nearly as entertaining as her, so I went to the balcony to find her. She was in the middle of telling a story that had something to do with something going up her butt.
Me: Baby, what are you on?
Yvette: Life
Me: You might want to smoke a bit less Life next time.
If I had a Tweety it would look like this:
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