Thursday, March 24, 2011

Vodka, Peach Schnapps, OJ, Cranberry

During our Monday “weekend recap” lunch conversation today, my sole male confidant said “you know, most men would never believe, let alone experience, most of the awesome shit we get into with the ladies.”  All I could say was “Cheers to that” and laugh, because he’s absolutely right.  The truth is, neither of us go out looking for the awesome shit to happen, we just go out and the awesome shit finds us.

For example, let me continue the story from the last post. Dirty Girl (who sorta just fell into my lap in the first place) arrived on the scene just in time for my party (which I didn’t have a date for). This was an incredibly lucky break on my part, but it gets better. A few days before the party, I learned that I would be travelling alone on a vacation to a small mexican beach town; a trip that had been planned for months and was virtually all paid for. Instead of cancelling, I posted on Facebook that I was “looking for a travel buddy with a passport. Special consideration given if you look good in a bikini.” Apart from a buddy offering to send his bikini portfolio, it looked like I was going solo. So, after having a crazy time with Dirty at my party, I popped the question.  “Do you happen to have a passport?”

It turned out she did indeed have a passport, was in between jobs, and would love to spend a week on the beach with me. Do I have incredible luck and timing, or what?!

A week later we were on a flight to Puerto Vallarta for five days of sun, sitting on the beach, and drinking beer like it was a Corona commercial. Dirty tried to convince me to meet her in the bathroom to join the mile-high club, but I convinced her that the full cabin, small bathroom, and my 6 foot 4 stature would make it completely impractical. She decided a hand-job under a blanket would suffice, and I didn’t argue.

Our hotel was an hour away from the airport (and american tourists) in a tiny mexican beach town: ten rooms opening up onto a plant-filled courtyard, fifty feet from the ocean. As the local mexican tourist season hadn’t started, we were the only residents besides Ray, the owner. I had been to Ray’s bungalos several times and we had become good friends, partly because we are close in age but mostly because i’m the only american to stay with him regularly. After settling in and catching up with Ray, we finished the evening with a walk down the beach and a quiet dinner before returning to the hotel for some sex and sleep.

Ray may have regretted putting us in the room right below his as he surely heard Dirty’s screams of passion, but he didn’t say anything the next morning when we talked about our plans for the week. I already had a couple day trips in mind and he suggested a few more, including snorkeling on a remote beach and a hike into the jungle to see some ancient carvings. Dirty was a gracious guest and told me as long as there was a beach and sun, she was happy to follow me anywhere. I was happy to oblige.

Our first day was spent on a beautiful and nearly empty beach in front of a palapa roofed open-air restaurant where we drank margaritas and pacifico beers while we tanned on lounge chairs and talked until the sun set over the water. After returning to the hotel, I talked to Ray about acquiring some drugas. 100 pesos ($8) and 15 mins later, I was holding nearly an ounce of stinky weed wrapped in a ball of tin foil the size of a grapefruit. It turned out Dirty was a pro at rolling joints so she quickly rolled us a couple and we sat on the roof watching the stars and getting baked. It was pretty much a perfect day.

The next morning after a breakfast of fruit, tortillas and cheese, we decided to take Ray up on his offer to take us snorkeling on a beach only accessible by boat.  We loaded up on gear, food, and booze and headed out on a fishing boat piloted by a buddy of Rays. Half an hour later we were dropped off on an empty beach, surrounded by jungle and cliffs. Dirty spent the day tanning and drinking beers while Ray and I chased fish with spear guns between coming up for beer and some sun. It was almost a shame Ray had come with us, because the more Dirty had to drink, the more she tried to talk me into sneaking into the jungle for a quickie, or just getting naked and going at it right there. However, it’s one thing to make Ray listen to us fucking, it’s another thing to make him watch. We definitely weren’t close enough friends for that.

Day three was spent in Puerta Vallarta walking the Malecon, shopping for trinkets and chuckling to ourselves about how much better our vacation was away from the tourists. The highlight of the excursion, however, was the blowjob Dirty insisted on giving me while we drove through the winding jungle pass in the dark. Somehow I kept the car on the road despite the distraction until Dirty demanded I pull over so she could have her way with me properly. I’m certain more than one truck driver got quite an eye full as their headlights passed our tiny car spotlighting her bouncing boobs.

Day four we decided to hike to a secluded beach not far from our hotel. We packed our beach gear, several joints and some pills we snuck through customs. Neither of us had rolled during the day, but we figured a private beach was just the place for it. Oh were we right! We had the tiny beach all to ourselves the whole day. Warm sun, splashing in the water, running around naked, fucking on the beach, in the water, against the cliff, what a day! I certainly hadn’t had a day like it before, and after returning to the hotel to get drunk before heading out for dinner, we decided we had to do it again.

We awoke the next morning in surprisingly good spirits, considering the previous day’s excesses, and excited to return to our private beach for another day of fun. Dirty rolled some more joints, I packed for the day, and we were off. Besides the swarm of jellyfish floating in the swells which made getting in the water an adventure, day two was every bit as good as before. By the time the sun was setting, we were exhausted and headed home for a nap before heading out for our final evening. We had a dazed but romantic dinner at a beach-side restaurant, walked the beach one last time then headed home to crash.

Ray joined us for breakfast the next morning and told him about our private beach adventures, though we did leave out some details. After packing, we said our farewells and headed out for the airport. As we lifted off, Dirty spotted our tiny private beach and we waved it goodbye. Thanks beach, for everything.

Friday, March 11, 2011

First Date

“So, have you ever been to a roll party?” I asked Dirty Girl, with a twinkle and a grin.

My place inadvertently became a party house several months back. I apparently drunkenly agreed to host a party at my house and forgot all about it. Two months later, and out of the blue, I was informed that the party was on for the weekend after next, and can she come over with the girls planning the party to scope the venue. “Oh, you were serious?” was my reply. I guess I was having a party.
And what a party it was: a dozen rolling raver kids, scandalous yet furry costumes, bumping house techno and light shows. These kids knew how to throw a party!

A couple months later, the raver kids wanted to party again, and I was happy to oblige. Conveniently enough, Dirty Girl and I had our post-birthday connection days before the roll party.. I had about given up on finding a roll buddy, which was honestly a real disappointment. E makes me want to touch, kiss and fuck everyone, and not having a designated target of affection could get me into some trouble.  I was very hesitant to invite Dirty at all. It’s a gamble just telling a girl you enjoy illicit pharma, let alone ask her to participate. Add in the unspoken assumption that a significant amount of sex will be involved and it becomes a real make-or-break proposition. I was really into this girl and didn’t want to blow my opportunity at getting her naked. However, I had a hunch that she would, and a chance of a night of high debauchery with her made it a good bet.
On top of that, Dirty was hot. Not cute, or kinda hot, fantastically fucking hot: Almost as tall as me wearing heels (which she always does), long tanned legs she loves to show off,  an ass you have to watch when she walks, full breasts that come out of her shirt like she’s wearing a Victoria’s Secret Wonder Bra even when she’s bra-less, shoulder-length brunette hair, perpetual bedroom eyes, and lips that say “I will fuck your brains out” no matter what sounds escape them.
Yeah, that kind of hot.

So when I say I was excited when she replied “oooh, I haven’t been to one of those in a long time! I’d love to!”, I mean that shivers ran down my back and I got a bit light-headed excited. I did my best to play it cool and said something along the lines of, “really? nice. I’m sure we’ll have fun”, although I was doing ace ventura hip thrusts in my head. I gave her the details, it was a masquerade theme, we chatted a bit about who was coming, and what naughtiness might happen. I then said goodnight, told her I was looking forward to see her, though not with as much enthusiasm as I really felt, and hung up the phone.

Keeping busy, a fair share of masturbation, and a little mj kept me level-headed until the night of the party. She arrived late but was looking fabulous as she gave me a kiss and a squeeze. Now, I don’t intend to give a full recounting of the evening’s intimate events, but I will say we both had a fantastic time, there was plenty of sex, and Dirty had at least dozen orgasms.

The next morning we were sitting on the couch after the last of the raver kids left, still marinating in the last of the drug and sex induced euphoria. I leaned in close and asked, “Do you happen to have a passport?”...

Monday, March 7, 2011

Cast of Characters: The Suit

It must be the nature of meeting a woman’s profile before meeting her in person that leads to so many failed encounters in online dating. I can count on one hand the number of women I met online who I had a genuinely good time with in person. The Suit is one of those women.

Our first date was a couple hours of engaging conversation over a drinks. Our second was a long dinner and a quick kiss goodnight. The third night, however, she had me over for her version of sushi night, where she made me dinner and several gin and tonics before having her way with me on the couch and then the bed.

It was great fun, I must admit. I had never been with a woman who was such like a man when it came to dating and sex. She let me know when she was horny and wanted a romp, told me how she liked to be pleasured, and left me alone otherwise. No complications or fuss. Just good company and great sex...and it didn't hurt that she had the best natural D-cup breasts I've toyed with in a long time. We continued a routine of weekly dinners and fucking until she became too busy at work, and we just left it at that.

Late one night last month during a two week dry spell, I was digging through my black book and sent her a text, reminiscing about the good times we had had. She soon responded that she had been thinking about them as well and would love to do it again, and soon. Reminiscing quickly shifted to dirty texting. An hour later I was in her bed and she was waking the neighbors.

The next day, she left town on business and we texted back and forth, catching up on the past months. I learned that she was in the middle of a string of lesbian relationships, the most recent with a brazillian soccer player who had a great ass and really knew her way around a vagina, but was sensitive, needy and kept mewing about commitment. We both had a great laugh at that: her chagrin at learning what trouble men go through to keep a woman happy. 

To my pleasure and amusement, she admitted that barely a day before my recent contact, she had been conversing about the pleasures of cock with her girl, and mine had been discussed as a prime example! The brazillian hadn’t been with a man since puberty and never one with any skill, apparently, because she could not be convinced that she was missing out, only fucking women. The Suit then revealed they had even fantasized together about having a threesome, if they could only find the right guy...

Do I have good timing or what?!

This may come as a surprise, but I have never had a threesome with two women. I’ve had twosomes, threesomes with a couple, foursomes, and even six at a time, but somehow never managed to find myself alone with two females. To say I am looking forward to it is a gross understatement, especially given the opportunity to show a lesbian what she’s been missing!

So far, I've been totally slow-playing the situation...letting her bring up the topic, sending a few dirty texts here and there to get her hot. Though I'm pretty confident it will work out just fine, it’s better to let her do the pursuing. When it finally happens, I want her to be dying for it.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Sushi Night

The best christmas present I received in recent memory was the bamboo sushi serving board my little sister gave me 2 christmases ago. Initially, I thought “what am I going to do with this!?”, and though obvious answer is “serve sushi, dummy”, it would, of course, require making the sushi to serve. Never one to shy from trying something new, I dove in. With the help of the interwebs, williams-sonoma, and a local japanese market, I had all I needed to make my first rolls. It took a bit of practice to get the rolls tight and uniform, but once that was accomplished, the rest turned out spectacularly well, especially considering the small amount of effort involved.

I didn’t start out with the plan to use sushi as a tool of seduction. I pretty much fell into it. My first sushi night was with a new girl I had met once for drinks and once for dinner. She was attractive and funny; I was smitten. “We will MAKE the sushi? Wow, I’m impressed!” was my first hint that this would end well. A tuna steak, some veg and a nice bottle of sake were procured, the kitchen cleaned and the rest of the house prepped.

She was quite adorable, attempting her first roll. I had plenty of opportunity to cozy up and “help” with tips and an extra hand here and there. After 30 mins, we had finished filling the serving board (and downed several shots of sake) and it was an impressive sight. So impressive, in fact, she took a picture and immediately posted in on facebook to brag to her friends. The sushi was delicious, as was the conversation, and soon we were furiously making out on the couch before taking things to the bedroom.

Things didn’t last with that particular girl, but sushi night was here to stay. In the months since, I have repeated it with much success. In fact, Sushi Night has never failed to end with the bedding of a new lovely lady. Now I know what i’ll be giving all my single mates for christmas next year!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Not everything is better in HD

A few days ago, I traded a couple weeks' salary for a rather large yet thin television. As luck would have it, I also discovered an ancient porn dvd at Dirty's house and swiped with the intent of trying it out on my pretty, pretty TV. I think I can say with confidence, it will be my last HD porno.

The “film” was made in the early 90s and the star hilariously sported a huge perm and teased bangs, while her co-star (the sausage) wore a ponytail and carried a brick cell phone. While Dirty and I found this quite hilarious, we weren’t watching the movie for the acting. Luckily, the actors got down to business before the starting credits, and what a show it was.

The thing I noticed, watching the first dvd (RED) after setting up the tv, was the sharpness of the picture. It was amazingly sharp. Tiny details I would not have otherwise noticed were jumping out, shouting “notice me”. Gone was the soft halo around actors making them somehow bigger and better than life. Bruce Willis was just bruce, an old guy with some wrinkles and greying hair. It was a bit disappointing.

As you can imagine, this effect was multiplied watching a close-up vagina...all 55 inches of it. I’m no stranger to the vagine, and have had plenty of real-life close ups. However, those were generally in romantically lit situations with my eyes closed a lot, and oh yeah, the vaginae were at most 3 inches long. When viewing one at twenty times larger than life, in bright, unflattering light, the usually unnoticeable blemishes become moldy mandarin oranges and stray hairs are large blades of grass. Not terribly sexy, to say the least.

Give me back my internet porn, where the girls have perfect skin and tiny vaginas.