Finally all of our posts from After Ellen have been copied over and from here on out the dates and content will be current and original.
Here's to a new chapter!
<3, Jen & Sheri
Monday, July 25, 2011
Ring a Ding Ding
Hey girls. I know it’s been some time since we’ve posted and we do apologize. With the threat of the AE moderators threatening to shut us down, Jen has been working to move all of our entries to Blogspot.com where we are free to write. We have also set up our own FB page much like Jill and Nikki from the Real L Word. With that out of the way, I just wanted to write a quick entry as to our escapade last light.
As some of you may know I am a Realtor. I received a call the other day from a woman looking to purchase a condo in Bergen County. I searched for what she was looking for and found 11 possibilities. Now Jen was on vacation until Wednesday. So yesterday afternoon I asked her to come along with me to “preview” the properties so I could whittle down the places to take my customer on Friday.
She met me at my office at 3:15 and we got on the road. I had an appointment to meet a homeowner at 7:30 so we headed to the furthest place first they worked our way back. By 5:20 we were starving so I suggested we stop for dinner and we would still have plenty of time to get to my 7:30. We were originally going to go to TGI Fridays but we drove past a restaurant called Charlie Browns. I mentioned maybe eating there, it would not be crowded and we could just sit and talk and get caught up, which is exactly what we did since we barely spoke while she was away.
We finished up dinner and still had an hour before I had to be at my appointment so we headed to Dairy Queen just down the road from my office. Time finally rolls around for us to head over to my appointment. There happen to be two units in the same complex so Jen and I went and checked out the empty unit first. I sent her back to the car because I didn’t want her to come into the unit with the homeowner home, it would’ve been a little awkward. I parked in front of the complex and crossed the lawn to ring the bell.
Jen stayed in the air conditioned car while I sat by the door waiting to get in. We were texting back and forth and she had that sly look on and I knew for sure a dirty picture was coming. I wasn’t wrong or disappointed.
Finally the homeowner showed up and I went in and checked out the unit. I was in there about ten minutes when I walked out and headed up to my car. I open my door, glad to be in the air conditioning when I turn to Jen who is hysterically crying to the point that she cannot speak.
OMG, did someone die while I was gone? was my first thought. Not completely an odd one with both of us with very sick sisters.
She composes herself long enough to get out that she lost her ring, not her diamond one, but her commitment band. I asked "What do you mean you lost it, you just had it on?"
My lovely girlfriend had taken her rings off to put lotion on her hands and not realizing that there is a vent that runs the width of my BMW windshield placed her ring up there where it proceeded to fall INTO the vent. Wonderful, ok how bad could it be? It wasn’t “lost” it was just technically misplaced at the moment.
After I console her that it would be alright, that I would get it out somehow, we headed back to my office to retrieve anything we could find to fish it out. I go into the office and grab a large paperclip which I proceed to unbend and rebend into a fish hook in order to grab this sucker. After finally getting the car positioned right, I let Jen start trying to hook it out. But no, what does she do? She wedges it down further so now it isn’t even rattling around anymore. After having had a good long look at the situation now and knowing exactly where it is we switch spots, her on the outside of the car with the flashlight and me, fishing in the area where I know it is.
After roughly two minutes I hear it move, the sound of metal across plastic. I have somehow dislodged it from the corner and have it up where we now have a semi clean shot at it. So bending and turning by handy paperclip to just a tiny hook at the end, I am able to snag the ring and maneuver it up through the vent and out. Jen grabbed it quickly and pushed it onto her finger, quite relieved that she had it back. She planted a huge kiss on me, jumping up and down like a child that had just gotten a toy out of a vending machine.
We previewed a few more condos after that and the entire time she was twirling the ring on her finger, just thankful to have it back on. We said our good-byes as it was getting late and she had to go back to work the next day. I’m sure she took that ring off when she got home, but at least it wasn’t gliding back and forth my vent every time I made a turn. She thanked me later for not getting mad at her. It was an accident, nothing to get mad at.
Knowing that that ring means so much to her, probably more than the diamond promise ring, was all the thank you I needed.
As some of you may know I am a Realtor. I received a call the other day from a woman looking to purchase a condo in Bergen County. I searched for what she was looking for and found 11 possibilities. Now Jen was on vacation until Wednesday. So yesterday afternoon I asked her to come along with me to “preview” the properties so I could whittle down the places to take my customer on Friday.
She met me at my office at 3:15 and we got on the road. I had an appointment to meet a homeowner at 7:30 so we headed to the furthest place first they worked our way back. By 5:20 we were starving so I suggested we stop for dinner and we would still have plenty of time to get to my 7:30. We were originally going to go to TGI Fridays but we drove past a restaurant called Charlie Browns. I mentioned maybe eating there, it would not be crowded and we could just sit and talk and get caught up, which is exactly what we did since we barely spoke while she was away.
We finished up dinner and still had an hour before I had to be at my appointment so we headed to Dairy Queen just down the road from my office. Time finally rolls around for us to head over to my appointment. There happen to be two units in the same complex so Jen and I went and checked out the empty unit first. I sent her back to the car because I didn’t want her to come into the unit with the homeowner home, it would’ve been a little awkward. I parked in front of the complex and crossed the lawn to ring the bell.
Jen stayed in the air conditioned car while I sat by the door waiting to get in. We were texting back and forth and she had that sly look on and I knew for sure a dirty picture was coming. I wasn’t wrong or disappointed.
Finally the homeowner showed up and I went in and checked out the unit. I was in there about ten minutes when I walked out and headed up to my car. I open my door, glad to be in the air conditioning when I turn to Jen who is hysterically crying to the point that she cannot speak.
OMG, did someone die while I was gone? was my first thought. Not completely an odd one with both of us with very sick sisters.
She composes herself long enough to get out that she lost her ring, not her diamond one, but her commitment band. I asked "What do you mean you lost it, you just had it on?"
My lovely girlfriend had taken her rings off to put lotion on her hands and not realizing that there is a vent that runs the width of my BMW windshield placed her ring up there where it proceeded to fall INTO the vent. Wonderful, ok how bad could it be? It wasn’t “lost” it was just technically misplaced at the moment.
After I console her that it would be alright, that I would get it out somehow, we headed back to my office to retrieve anything we could find to fish it out. I go into the office and grab a large paperclip which I proceed to unbend and rebend into a fish hook in order to grab this sucker. After finally getting the car positioned right, I let Jen start trying to hook it out. But no, what does she do? She wedges it down further so now it isn’t even rattling around anymore. After having had a good long look at the situation now and knowing exactly where it is we switch spots, her on the outside of the car with the flashlight and me, fishing in the area where I know it is.
After roughly two minutes I hear it move, the sound of metal across plastic. I have somehow dislodged it from the corner and have it up where we now have a semi clean shot at it. So bending and turning by handy paperclip to just a tiny hook at the end, I am able to snag the ring and maneuver it up through the vent and out. Jen grabbed it quickly and pushed it onto her finger, quite relieved that she had it back. She planted a huge kiss on me, jumping up and down like a child that had just gotten a toy out of a vending machine.
We previewed a few more condos after that and the entire time she was twirling the ring on her finger, just thankful to have it back on. We said our good-byes as it was getting late and she had to go back to work the next day. I’m sure she took that ring off when she got home, but at least it wasn’t gliding back and forth my vent every time I made a turn. She thanked me later for not getting mad at her. It was an accident, nothing to get mad at.
Knowing that that ring means so much to her, probably more than the diamond promise ring, was all the thank you I needed.
Hunger
Posted June 15, 2011
Sheri came down on Saturday to attend my nieces first dance recital with me and then head back to the apartment for some adult activity. Both of us have been sexually heightened recently, her's due from working out and mine, well, I'm always ready to go.
I was a tad concerned about Saturday though. I had gotten up early to run to the store to food shop (and winced as I watched my food bill climb over $100 with the realization I didn't even buy that much food) and when I returned I had lost complete power to my apartment. Luckily the heat wave that had hit the northeast had subsided and Saturday was a cool 70 degrees. I was able to open my windows and revel in the silence of not hearing one single air conditioner running. But..no electricity meant that my fish tank pump was not circulating the water, therefore not adding oxygen to it. I had checked with the petstore and the fish dude said that I should be OK for 3-5 hours but after that I should remove water and add some fresh water.
Great, sounded like a plan. Another problem though-no electricity meant no hot water...And I hadn't showered yet. Plus that also meant that I wouldn't have been able to get the water warm enough to add to the fish tank. So there I was, grungey, and watching my fish like a hawk to make sure they weren't becoming listless.
When Sheri got there I was near ready after dousing myself in perfume and trying desperately to tame my mane. "I look like I just rolled out of bed and threw my hair up. Which technically, I did," I whined.
"You look fine. We'll be sitting in a dark auditorium, no one will be looking at you."
Before we left I grabbed a medium sauce pan and scooped and poured the water back in the tank to give it some circulation. "Please don't die," I asked my fish. After about 5 or 6 times I replaced the top and we left to take what I thought was going to be the long drive to the recital.
I had alotted ourselves about an hour and a half since the recital was in Flemington, NJ and from what I remembered it would take me nearly 40 minutes to get out there from my parents house, and I'm 15 minutes more north now. Well, apparently I drive like a bat out of hell because just about 30 minutes later we were sitting in the parking lot with an hour to kill until showtime. "I spy with my little eye...." I started.
"I'm not playing eye-spy with you!" Sheri laughed.
A few minutes later of talking about nonsense I saw my sister-in-law's car pull in and park two rows behind us. "Seri's here!" I exclaimed. I wanted to see her before showtime since we were only staying for her dance then headed home. I gave her a big hug and she sleepily put her head on my shoulder. We walked into the auditorium and took our seats and waiting for my parents and my brother to show up. The show started promptly at 3 and I will say that these girls were extremely talented. It brought me back to my dancing days and I sat there beaming up at the stage remeniscing of how it would feel to be in the dressing rooms getting ready-all the excitement flowing through the air like electricity as a few dancers would be practicing in front of the mirror.
Dance after dance passed and then it was time for my niece's class- they danced to Little Bo Peep and were dressed in little tu-tus and had a headband that had sheep ears on them. My niece stood all the way stage left and by far the smallest in the class, and I'm not biased or anything but she was by far the cutest. They did their dance, all looking to the wings of the stage to follow the teachers hidden behind the curtains. We laughed throughout the entire thing because she was just so stinkin cute. And I won't even try to hide it, we cried a little too.
A few dances later Sheri and I snuck out and headed back home. We stopped at my parents house so I could shower and *ehem* shave. It felt so good to rinse that layer of grime off of me. We headed back to my apartment where I started to prepare dinner.
I was in the midst of cutting up the red potatoes when I saw out of the corner of my eye Sheri waltz into my kitchen with a sly smile. She came up slowly behind me and moved my hair out of the way and started to kiss and nibble on my neck, sending goosebumps all down my right side. I'd shrug my shoulder to try to block her access to my neck while attempting to concentrate on not slicing my finger off with a knife. "Sheri...are you trying to send me to the hospital?" I giggled.
She stopped kissing my neck and stepped back and I felt her fingers slip underneath the band of my yoga pants. In one swift movement my pants and underwear were down around my knees and I anxiously giggled, knowing what was to come.
I couldn't really fight her off. "You know, you could help me go faster by grabbing a few potatoes," I said.
"Nah," she whispered, "this is more fun." And with that she entered me, sending a gasp up into my throat.
It was very slow and methodical-she was teasing me, warming me up. I turned my head and we kissed deeply, her one hand wrapped around my stomach bringing me closer to her. I then continued to cut potatoes while she continued to probe me.
Eventually the potatoes were cut and she pulled my pants back up and let me finish preparing them. Once I got them in the oven we had an hour to have sex, stopping briefly for me to get up and stir the potatoes.
The last time I climaxed I was on the verge of screaming but thought against it. My windows were open and the apartments are not exactly soundproof and I really feel bad to have my elderly neighbor downstairs hearing my screams of ecstacy. It's just something I'd rather her not hear. I was splayed across my bed, panting, while Sheri was standing over me with an accomplished smile on her face. "That.....was a good one," I said breathlessly.
"You seemed to stifle yourself," she noted.
"Yeah, I don't need cops banging down my door to see if I'm being murdered."
"Will we be having sex again?"
"Of course!" I answered.
I stayed like that for a few more moments before I stood up to collect myself. After we washed our hands and faces and brushed our teeth I began to prepare the rest of dinner and cooked us the filet mignons which melted in our mouths.
We sat back, contented, plates empty and stomachs full. We watched TV for a bit until I felt a twinge in my body. While she was still watching TV I stood up and closed my blinds and my curtains in my living room and walked towards her with a smirk. She knew exactly what was coming and quickly ripped off her pants. I laid on top of her, pinning her arms above her head with my left hand, while my right hand travelled down. She was so eager that I was able to slip right in, causing her to draw in a deep breath. I was slow and deep, kissing her at the same time. My hips started to rock back and forth with each thrust and eventually I knelt down in front of her, one of her legs on my coffee table, and I had my dessert.
We continued into the bedroom where that time, I did let myself scream. I just had to cover my head with my pillow.
The one thing about our sex-we have a TON of fun. While I had on our toy my bed was squeaking obscenely loud to the point where we were rotating at 45 degree angles to try to find a position where it didn't make a sound. We'd move, I'd thrust, we'd laugh. She was on top of me, the bed squeaking with every movement and we were laughing so hard that she lost all of her strength in her arms and was completely smothering me. For those who have seen us on facebook-she has a bit of height on me and her boobs are bigger than my head, so when she's on top I always have a boob crushing my sternum making it nearly impossible for me to get enough air. When she has all of her weight on me I'm smothered by her boobs and I tend to have a shoulder crushing my windpipe but she's laughing too hard to move.
We often discuss that we should tape ourselves having sex-however we would have to cut out 90% of the video due to laughing and our stomachs growling in the middle of the act. Let me tell you, there's nothing sexier than trying to climax and your stomach lets out this noise that would be enough to scare small animals.
Sheri came down on Saturday to attend my nieces first dance recital with me and then head back to the apartment for some adult activity. Both of us have been sexually heightened recently, her's due from working out and mine, well, I'm always ready to go.
I was a tad concerned about Saturday though. I had gotten up early to run to the store to food shop (and winced as I watched my food bill climb over $100 with the realization I didn't even buy that much food) and when I returned I had lost complete power to my apartment. Luckily the heat wave that had hit the northeast had subsided and Saturday was a cool 70 degrees. I was able to open my windows and revel in the silence of not hearing one single air conditioner running. But..no electricity meant that my fish tank pump was not circulating the water, therefore not adding oxygen to it. I had checked with the petstore and the fish dude said that I should be OK for 3-5 hours but after that I should remove water and add some fresh water.
Great, sounded like a plan. Another problem though-no electricity meant no hot water...And I hadn't showered yet. Plus that also meant that I wouldn't have been able to get the water warm enough to add to the fish tank. So there I was, grungey, and watching my fish like a hawk to make sure they weren't becoming listless.
When Sheri got there I was near ready after dousing myself in perfume and trying desperately to tame my mane. "I look like I just rolled out of bed and threw my hair up. Which technically, I did," I whined.
"You look fine. We'll be sitting in a dark auditorium, no one will be looking at you."
Before we left I grabbed a medium sauce pan and scooped and poured the water back in the tank to give it some circulation. "Please don't die," I asked my fish. After about 5 or 6 times I replaced the top and we left to take what I thought was going to be the long drive to the recital.
I had alotted ourselves about an hour and a half since the recital was in Flemington, NJ and from what I remembered it would take me nearly 40 minutes to get out there from my parents house, and I'm 15 minutes more north now. Well, apparently I drive like a bat out of hell because just about 30 minutes later we were sitting in the parking lot with an hour to kill until showtime. "I spy with my little eye...." I started.
"I'm not playing eye-spy with you!" Sheri laughed.
A few minutes later of talking about nonsense I saw my sister-in-law's car pull in and park two rows behind us. "Seri's here!" I exclaimed. I wanted to see her before showtime since we were only staying for her dance then headed home. I gave her a big hug and she sleepily put her head on my shoulder. We walked into the auditorium and took our seats and waiting for my parents and my brother to show up. The show started promptly at 3 and I will say that these girls were extremely talented. It brought me back to my dancing days and I sat there beaming up at the stage remeniscing of how it would feel to be in the dressing rooms getting ready-all the excitement flowing through the air like electricity as a few dancers would be practicing in front of the mirror.
Dance after dance passed and then it was time for my niece's class- they danced to Little Bo Peep and were dressed in little tu-tus and had a headband that had sheep ears on them. My niece stood all the way stage left and by far the smallest in the class, and I'm not biased or anything but she was by far the cutest. They did their dance, all looking to the wings of the stage to follow the teachers hidden behind the curtains. We laughed throughout the entire thing because she was just so stinkin cute. And I won't even try to hide it, we cried a little too.
A few dances later Sheri and I snuck out and headed back home. We stopped at my parents house so I could shower and *ehem* shave. It felt so good to rinse that layer of grime off of me. We headed back to my apartment where I started to prepare dinner.
I was in the midst of cutting up the red potatoes when I saw out of the corner of my eye Sheri waltz into my kitchen with a sly smile. She came up slowly behind me and moved my hair out of the way and started to kiss and nibble on my neck, sending goosebumps all down my right side. I'd shrug my shoulder to try to block her access to my neck while attempting to concentrate on not slicing my finger off with a knife. "Sheri...are you trying to send me to the hospital?" I giggled.
She stopped kissing my neck and stepped back and I felt her fingers slip underneath the band of my yoga pants. In one swift movement my pants and underwear were down around my knees and I anxiously giggled, knowing what was to come.
I couldn't really fight her off. "You know, you could help me go faster by grabbing a few potatoes," I said.
"Nah," she whispered, "this is more fun." And with that she entered me, sending a gasp up into my throat.
It was very slow and methodical-she was teasing me, warming me up. I turned my head and we kissed deeply, her one hand wrapped around my stomach bringing me closer to her. I then continued to cut potatoes while she continued to probe me.
Eventually the potatoes were cut and she pulled my pants back up and let me finish preparing them. Once I got them in the oven we had an hour to have sex, stopping briefly for me to get up and stir the potatoes.
The last time I climaxed I was on the verge of screaming but thought against it. My windows were open and the apartments are not exactly soundproof and I really feel bad to have my elderly neighbor downstairs hearing my screams of ecstacy. It's just something I'd rather her not hear. I was splayed across my bed, panting, while Sheri was standing over me with an accomplished smile on her face. "That.....was a good one," I said breathlessly.
"You seemed to stifle yourself," she noted.
"Yeah, I don't need cops banging down my door to see if I'm being murdered."
"Will we be having sex again?"
"Of course!" I answered.
I stayed like that for a few more moments before I stood up to collect myself. After we washed our hands and faces and brushed our teeth I began to prepare the rest of dinner and cooked us the filet mignons which melted in our mouths.
We sat back, contented, plates empty and stomachs full. We watched TV for a bit until I felt a twinge in my body. While she was still watching TV I stood up and closed my blinds and my curtains in my living room and walked towards her with a smirk. She knew exactly what was coming and quickly ripped off her pants. I laid on top of her, pinning her arms above her head with my left hand, while my right hand travelled down. She was so eager that I was able to slip right in, causing her to draw in a deep breath. I was slow and deep, kissing her at the same time. My hips started to rock back and forth with each thrust and eventually I knelt down in front of her, one of her legs on my coffee table, and I had my dessert.
We continued into the bedroom where that time, I did let myself scream. I just had to cover my head with my pillow.
The one thing about our sex-we have a TON of fun. While I had on our toy my bed was squeaking obscenely loud to the point where we were rotating at 45 degree angles to try to find a position where it didn't make a sound. We'd move, I'd thrust, we'd laugh. She was on top of me, the bed squeaking with every movement and we were laughing so hard that she lost all of her strength in her arms and was completely smothering me. For those who have seen us on facebook-she has a bit of height on me and her boobs are bigger than my head, so when she's on top I always have a boob crushing my sternum making it nearly impossible for me to get enough air. When she has all of her weight on me I'm smothered by her boobs and I tend to have a shoulder crushing my windpipe but she's laughing too hard to move.
We often discuss that we should tape ourselves having sex-however we would have to cut out 90% of the video due to laughing and our stomachs growling in the middle of the act. Let me tell you, there's nothing sexier than trying to climax and your stomach lets out this noise that would be enough to scare small animals.
Miss Snores A Lot
Posted June 6, 2011
So who caught the premier of the Real L Word last night? Needless to say I had to fan myself after a few choice scenes. I still can't believe that they show half the shit they do. It's one thing to write about sex, but I can guarantee that I would never EVER allow cameras in the bedroom capturing what Sheri and I do best.
Unless I was drunk.
I've been at my apartment for 6 months now and this past Friday Sheri slept over for the first time. I use the term "sleep" loosely because when we share a bed there is very little sleep happening, whether it be due to roaming hands or her incessent snoring. This time was no different.
On Friday it was Sheri's mission to get me tipsy. I'm naturally aggressive but give me some alcohol and I'm an animal. Last Saturday I had a BBQ with Sheri and two of our friends for Memorial Day. I had consumed about a bottle and a half of wine and I started kissing all over Sheri and before she left I had her pinned against my front door making out. It didn't matter to me that our friends were in my kitchen trying desperately to not watch the scene that was unfolding in front of them. So this past Friday we were on my couch watching TV after dinner and Sheri wanted a re-enactment of the weekend prior and poured me two very full glasses of wine.
After the second glass Sheri was pantless on my couch with one leg on the coffee table and my head burried in the promise land.
Much like Whitney and Sara last night.
But that's not what I came to write about. After we moved into the bedroom and when both of us were spent it was time for bed. We shifted to our appropriate sides of the bed and our backs were to one another. I slurred "What, we aren't going to spoon?"
"Hrrmmph" she grunted, face already in her pillow.
She turned on to her right side and I wiggled in to mold my body to hers and we closed our eyes. It wasn't 90 seconds later she was complaining "I'm hooootttt and my shoulder hurrrttsss."
Much like in sports when the team is in a huddle I shouted "Aaannd break!" and we went back to our respective sides. I have to fall asleep on my left side. She falls asleep on her right. Which means we were facing each other. "Oh no," I said. "Roll over on to your other side. I can't fall asleep with you snoring your hot breath in my direction."
She whined a bit but she did roll over so her back was to me. I reached my hand over and ran my fingers up and down her back and rested my hand on the curve of her hip for a few seconds revelling in the fact that for the first time since I've moved here, and for the first time in nearly 8 months, we were sharing a bed together again.
Let me tell you, that feeling didn't last long. As I've written, Sheri has this inexplicable ability to fall asleep within, I kid you not, a minute after closing her eyes. My grin quickly faded when I heard the trademark heavy breathing and knew that snoring would soon follow. I groaned and put my pillow over my head and sank quickly into sleep thanks to two glasses of wine and an Advil PM.
I don't fool around, I have to be prepared when we sleep together.
I was asleep for a few hours when my eyes flashed open in the middle of the night to this chainsaw type sound eminating from Sheri's throat. In a sleepy stupor I threw my arm out to smack her and tell her to roll over. "Hmmhh*smack* Whaat?"
"Roll over! You're snoring!"
"*mumbles something*"
Luckily I fell asleep quickly again only to be awoken what seemed like an hour or two later by the same, incredibly loud snoring coming from my left. I reached out again to find out I couldn't push her on her side because she was already on her side facing away from me. Oh for Heaven's Sake I thought.
*smack*
"Hmmm?"
"You're snoring! Roll on to your stomach or something!"
Dutifully she rolled onto her stomach and I fell back to sleep.
Then there I was. 5 am in the morning realizing that I've only gotten about 4 hours of sleep. The sun was already starting to shine through my blinds and Sheri was still on her stomach, snoring away, and hogging up half the bed I might add. Sometimes she snores inhumanly loud. Sometimes, it's just heavy breathing. All the time, it keeps me awake. I tossed and turned and finally fell back to sleep for maybe another hour or two until it was about 7 or 8 in the morning and I knew that I wasn't going to get any more sleep.
If I can't sleep, she can't sleep. I got up, peed, brushed my teeth and threw some water on my face and jumped back in to bed. Sheri rolled and sleepily said "Morning baby," as she outstretched her arms. I sighed, defeated, and wiggled myself back into her open arms and we spooned like that for a few minutes until you guess it.....she started snoring.
"Sheri! You're snoring!" I whispered harshly.
"I'm not snoring. I'm not even asleep."
"Well that's a pretty neat trick then because yes, you are snoring."
We cuddled for a bit longer, us spooning, then her laying in my nook. Either way I'm blocking her face because I refuse to go anywhere near her mouth until she brushes her teeth. She thinks I should be all over her, morning breath and all. Sorry dear, I love you, but you can keep your dragon morning breath away from me.
Eventually she did get up, we had breakfast and washed the last night's activities off of us and we started all over again. I may have been exhausted, but she more than made up for keeping me awake. We were making out and when she finally touched me it was like electricity jolting through my body. It was only a few minutes later that I was quivering as my hands were intertwined in her hair, kissing her deeply. For nearly two hours I forgave her again and again and again for keeping me awake all throughout the night.
Next time, while I enjoy the payoff for her sleeping over, I wouldn't mind actually getting a good night's SLEEP thrown in there for good measure.
So who caught the premier of the Real L Word last night? Needless to say I had to fan myself after a few choice scenes. I still can't believe that they show half the shit they do. It's one thing to write about sex, but I can guarantee that I would never EVER allow cameras in the bedroom capturing what Sheri and I do best.
Unless I was drunk.
I've been at my apartment for 6 months now and this past Friday Sheri slept over for the first time. I use the term "sleep" loosely because when we share a bed there is very little sleep happening, whether it be due to roaming hands or her incessent snoring. This time was no different.
On Friday it was Sheri's mission to get me tipsy. I'm naturally aggressive but give me some alcohol and I'm an animal. Last Saturday I had a BBQ with Sheri and two of our friends for Memorial Day. I had consumed about a bottle and a half of wine and I started kissing all over Sheri and before she left I had her pinned against my front door making out. It didn't matter to me that our friends were in my kitchen trying desperately to not watch the scene that was unfolding in front of them. So this past Friday we were on my couch watching TV after dinner and Sheri wanted a re-enactment of the weekend prior and poured me two very full glasses of wine.
After the second glass Sheri was pantless on my couch with one leg on the coffee table and my head burried in the promise land.
Much like Whitney and Sara last night.
But that's not what I came to write about. After we moved into the bedroom and when both of us were spent it was time for bed. We shifted to our appropriate sides of the bed and our backs were to one another. I slurred "What, we aren't going to spoon?"
"Hrrmmph" she grunted, face already in her pillow.
She turned on to her right side and I wiggled in to mold my body to hers and we closed our eyes. It wasn't 90 seconds later she was complaining "I'm hooootttt and my shoulder hurrrttsss."
Much like in sports when the team is in a huddle I shouted "Aaannd break!" and we went back to our respective sides. I have to fall asleep on my left side. She falls asleep on her right. Which means we were facing each other. "Oh no," I said. "Roll over on to your other side. I can't fall asleep with you snoring your hot breath in my direction."
She whined a bit but she did roll over so her back was to me. I reached my hand over and ran my fingers up and down her back and rested my hand on the curve of her hip for a few seconds revelling in the fact that for the first time since I've moved here, and for the first time in nearly 8 months, we were sharing a bed together again.
Let me tell you, that feeling didn't last long. As I've written, Sheri has this inexplicable ability to fall asleep within, I kid you not, a minute after closing her eyes. My grin quickly faded when I heard the trademark heavy breathing and knew that snoring would soon follow. I groaned and put my pillow over my head and sank quickly into sleep thanks to two glasses of wine and an Advil PM.
I don't fool around, I have to be prepared when we sleep together.
I was asleep for a few hours when my eyes flashed open in the middle of the night to this chainsaw type sound eminating from Sheri's throat. In a sleepy stupor I threw my arm out to smack her and tell her to roll over. "Hmmhh*smack* Whaat?"
"Roll over! You're snoring!"
"*mumbles something*"
Luckily I fell asleep quickly again only to be awoken what seemed like an hour or two later by the same, incredibly loud snoring coming from my left. I reached out again to find out I couldn't push her on her side because she was already on her side facing away from me. Oh for Heaven's Sake I thought.
*smack*
"Hmmm?"
"You're snoring! Roll on to your stomach or something!"
Dutifully she rolled onto her stomach and I fell back to sleep.
Then there I was. 5 am in the morning realizing that I've only gotten about 4 hours of sleep. The sun was already starting to shine through my blinds and Sheri was still on her stomach, snoring away, and hogging up half the bed I might add. Sometimes she snores inhumanly loud. Sometimes, it's just heavy breathing. All the time, it keeps me awake. I tossed and turned and finally fell back to sleep for maybe another hour or two until it was about 7 or 8 in the morning and I knew that I wasn't going to get any more sleep.
If I can't sleep, she can't sleep. I got up, peed, brushed my teeth and threw some water on my face and jumped back in to bed. Sheri rolled and sleepily said "Morning baby," as she outstretched her arms. I sighed, defeated, and wiggled myself back into her open arms and we spooned like that for a few minutes until you guess it.....she started snoring.
"Sheri! You're snoring!" I whispered harshly.
"I'm not snoring. I'm not even asleep."
"Well that's a pretty neat trick then because yes, you are snoring."
We cuddled for a bit longer, us spooning, then her laying in my nook. Either way I'm blocking her face because I refuse to go anywhere near her mouth until she brushes her teeth. She thinks I should be all over her, morning breath and all. Sorry dear, I love you, but you can keep your dragon morning breath away from me.
Eventually she did get up, we had breakfast and washed the last night's activities off of us and we started all over again. I may have been exhausted, but she more than made up for keeping me awake. We were making out and when she finally touched me it was like electricity jolting through my body. It was only a few minutes later that I was quivering as my hands were intertwined in her hair, kissing her deeply. For nearly two hours I forgave her again and again and again for keeping me awake all throughout the night.
Next time, while I enjoy the payoff for her sleeping over, I wouldn't mind actually getting a good night's SLEEP thrown in there for good measure.
Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game
Posted May 17, 2011
I don't know why asking Sheri to write about our sex life makes her put her fingers in her ears and go "Lalalalalalala!" She much would rather I write about it. "That's your department."
This past weekend my mother and I went to upstate NY for her aunt's, my great aunt's, memorial service. She was my grandmother's sister and passed away Christmas Eve. My grandmother passed 6 years ago this February and my aunt was like the last living connection to her. I knew my mother, who is still deeply sad from losing her mother, needed someone by her side and my father is too sick to travel and my siblings were with our extended family the same weekend for a baptism.
I was the youngest person there by some 30 years. Even still, I got along very well with my distant cousins whom haven't seen me since I was a little girl.
"The last time I saw you you were dancing and singing 'Tomorrow'!"
Yes, I was quite the tenacious lass.
The first night we were there I was sitting with my mother and our cousins drinking and catching up. Somehow, the topic of sex came up. Here were my older cousins, in their 50's and 60's, talking freely about positions, locations, "Oh, my seven-foot dining room table works great!"
Ladies, there is not enough alcohol in the world to drown these words out of my head.
I stole away into the bathroom and quickly called Sheri. "They're talking about sex!" I hissed into the phone.
"Sooo?" she chuckled. "Tell them about your stories."
"NOOOOOOO!" I shrieked. "Oh my god Eww!"
"Commme oonnn. You may help them save their marriages."
"I don't think they have trouble with that."
I think it's highly inappropriate to discuss my sex life with my mother or any other family members. Now, complete and utter strangers I have no problem with.
Sex has been plentiful as of late. Last Saturday while up at Sheri's her girls were downstairs and we started making out in her room. Quickly, our hands were down each others pants, rapidly moving in and out while one ear was open for little footsteps running down the hall. As luck would have it, both of us were about to finish when we heard her youngest one bounding up the stairs. With lightening reflexes we pulled apart and fixed ourselves just as she reached the bedroom. With flushed cheeks she looked up at me and mouthed "later". I nodded understandably and waited impatiently for the clock to click by.
After her youngest went to bed and we shoo'd her oldest out of the room we resumed what we started earlier. A minute or two later our legs were buckling as she started to climax. I clamped my mouth over hers to try to silent her moans of pleasure so they didn't waft down the hall.
We stood back, sweaty, pulse rushing, with satisfied smiles on our faces. "I'm going to write about this" I whispered.
Thursday before I left Sheri said "I'm coming down and giving you a farewell present."
The entire week we talked dirty to one another. Once Thursday rolled around I came home from work to find her at my apartment, waiting for me. She had made dinner and ate it quickly while I took a shower and cleaned up. Once I got out I didn't even bother putting clothes on. We proceeded to have two hours of hot, sweaty, loud, amazing sex. Sometimes though, I feel like a long term hooker. After we were done she hopped out of bed and was throwing her clothes on. "Fuck me and leave me, eh? The money's on the dresser?" I joked
Even though this was a solumn weekend Sheri and I were still texting dirty. When I was out to dinner Saturday night I texted her how amazingly delicious it was, that I've never had anything so good. "So, it tastes like you then," she responded.
Thankfully the lights were low and I was warm so my cousins couldn't see me blush.
I had taken off of work today to recover from this emotional weekend. Sheri came down early after she took her children to school and I had already made it known that I planned on having sex today, and a lot of it. "I'm not in the mood-didn't even think about it," she said.
"That's too bad because I want it."
"Well, then you'll have to get me in the mood," she challenged.
"Challenge accepted!" I texted back.
I heard her open up the front door and I stood at the top of the stairs clad only in a black see-thru negligée and a wrap. I pulled her through the door and my fingers started fumbling with her shirt. She pushed my hands down and said "You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?" and brushed past me.
I made her breakfast, still wearing practically nothing. She came up behind me and started kissing my neck and running her hand up my legs while I mixed waffle mix. I turned and we kissed deeply before she smirked and walked away from me leaving me hot and bothered.
I finished making breakfast and climbed on top of her on the couch. She started laughing and still pushing me off "No, just sit with me" she protested. I slumped beside her and crossed my arms, defeated.
We did some running around and came back and ate some lunch. "Do you want to Wii?" I suggested.
"Sure."
In the midst of playing basketball Sheri's hands started roaming on me, she lifted the back of my shirt and started kissing the small of my back. Her hands wrapped around me and started to touch me over my pants and I closed my eyes and put my head back.
When it was her time to shoot I ran into my room and stripped down to my bra and underwear. Enough of this fooling around, I was getting laid. When her turn was over I took the remote and turned off the tv.\ "But...but I thought we were going to play Wii!"
I took her by the hand, saying nothing, and lead her into the bedroom.
I will end with this. God bless that woman and her tongue.
I don't know why asking Sheri to write about our sex life makes her put her fingers in her ears and go "Lalalalalalala!" She much would rather I write about it. "That's your department."
This past weekend my mother and I went to upstate NY for her aunt's, my great aunt's, memorial service. She was my grandmother's sister and passed away Christmas Eve. My grandmother passed 6 years ago this February and my aunt was like the last living connection to her. I knew my mother, who is still deeply sad from losing her mother, needed someone by her side and my father is too sick to travel and my siblings were with our extended family the same weekend for a baptism.
I was the youngest person there by some 30 years. Even still, I got along very well with my distant cousins whom haven't seen me since I was a little girl.
"The last time I saw you you were dancing and singing 'Tomorrow'!"
Yes, I was quite the tenacious lass.
The first night we were there I was sitting with my mother and our cousins drinking and catching up. Somehow, the topic of sex came up. Here were my older cousins, in their 50's and 60's, talking freely about positions, locations, "Oh, my seven-foot dining room table works great!"
Ladies, there is not enough alcohol in the world to drown these words out of my head.
I stole away into the bathroom and quickly called Sheri. "They're talking about sex!" I hissed into the phone.
"Sooo?" she chuckled. "Tell them about your stories."
"NOOOOOOO!" I shrieked. "Oh my god Eww!"
"Commme oonnn. You may help them save their marriages."
"I don't think they have trouble with that."
I think it's highly inappropriate to discuss my sex life with my mother or any other family members. Now, complete and utter strangers I have no problem with.
Sex has been plentiful as of late. Last Saturday while up at Sheri's her girls were downstairs and we started making out in her room. Quickly, our hands were down each others pants, rapidly moving in and out while one ear was open for little footsteps running down the hall. As luck would have it, both of us were about to finish when we heard her youngest one bounding up the stairs. With lightening reflexes we pulled apart and fixed ourselves just as she reached the bedroom. With flushed cheeks she looked up at me and mouthed "later". I nodded understandably and waited impatiently for the clock to click by.
After her youngest went to bed and we shoo'd her oldest out of the room we resumed what we started earlier. A minute or two later our legs were buckling as she started to climax. I clamped my mouth over hers to try to silent her moans of pleasure so they didn't waft down the hall.
We stood back, sweaty, pulse rushing, with satisfied smiles on our faces. "I'm going to write about this" I whispered.
Thursday before I left Sheri said "I'm coming down and giving you a farewell present."
The entire week we talked dirty to one another. Once Thursday rolled around I came home from work to find her at my apartment, waiting for me. She had made dinner and ate it quickly while I took a shower and cleaned up. Once I got out I didn't even bother putting clothes on. We proceeded to have two hours of hot, sweaty, loud, amazing sex. Sometimes though, I feel like a long term hooker. After we were done she hopped out of bed and was throwing her clothes on. "Fuck me and leave me, eh? The money's on the dresser?" I joked
Even though this was a solumn weekend Sheri and I were still texting dirty. When I was out to dinner Saturday night I texted her how amazingly delicious it was, that I've never had anything so good. "So, it tastes like you then," she responded.
Thankfully the lights were low and I was warm so my cousins couldn't see me blush.
I had taken off of work today to recover from this emotional weekend. Sheri came down early after she took her children to school and I had already made it known that I planned on having sex today, and a lot of it. "I'm not in the mood-didn't even think about it," she said.
"That's too bad because I want it."
"Well, then you'll have to get me in the mood," she challenged.
"Challenge accepted!" I texted back.
I heard her open up the front door and I stood at the top of the stairs clad only in a black see-thru negligée and a wrap. I pulled her through the door and my fingers started fumbling with her shirt. She pushed my hands down and said "You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?" and brushed past me.
I made her breakfast, still wearing practically nothing. She came up behind me and started kissing my neck and running her hand up my legs while I mixed waffle mix. I turned and we kissed deeply before she smirked and walked away from me leaving me hot and bothered.
I finished making breakfast and climbed on top of her on the couch. She started laughing and still pushing me off "No, just sit with me" she protested. I slumped beside her and crossed my arms, defeated.
We did some running around and came back and ate some lunch. "Do you want to Wii?" I suggested.
"Sure."
In the midst of playing basketball Sheri's hands started roaming on me, she lifted the back of my shirt and started kissing the small of my back. Her hands wrapped around me and started to touch me over my pants and I closed my eyes and put my head back.
When it was her time to shoot I ran into my room and stripped down to my bra and underwear. Enough of this fooling around, I was getting laid. When her turn was over I took the remote and turned off the tv.\ "But...but I thought we were going to play Wii!"
I took her by the hand, saying nothing, and lead her into the bedroom.
I will end with this. God bless that woman and her tongue.
Cadburry Eggs & Hopeless Romantic
Posted April 29, 2011
Ok, so the Royal Wedding is over. I was given a hard time all week for literally counting down the days and then the hours yesterday. I remember when Prince William’s parent were married, getting up at 4am as to not to miss anything. Of course, 30 years ago there wasn’t around the clock news like there is today. So at 3:55am I was up, anxiously awaiting the start of the festivities. After about 15 minutes I realized that I didn’t need to see everyone arriving, the only one I wanted to see was Kate arriving and of course the dress. So I reset my alarm and got up at 5:45 just in time to see her getting into the car with her father. She looked beautiful and timelessly classic, a modern Grace Kelly. I couldn’t help shed a tear as the spoke their vows, I always cry at weddings. For a moment I was 14 again, watching history repeat itself.
I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic. This brings to Wednesday and Thursday of this week. So, there are two words that make my girlfriend very happy besides booty call. Cadbury Eggs…yes those cream filled chocolate eggs that are only available around Easter. Jen had given up chocolate for lent so I skipped picking any up for her over the past few weeks. So on Tuesday she texts me a *sniffle sniffle*…”this is the first Easter I haven’t had any Cadbury Eggs and now they’re all gone”. So what do I do? I set out to find these things. I started out at one end of my town and drove around for an hour and a half before embarking on the CVS down by our high school. I walked in and found the left over Easter candy. I started rooting thru the basket and low and behold there was an egg….woohoo! I got one, but wait, what are the chances there’s gonna be another one? SCORE!!! Two eggs. So very proud of myself I pay for my eggs and head home. A friend of mine called when I was driving and asked what I was doing. I explained Jens sadness about missing the eggs for Easter. She randomly suggested that I try the Walgreens in the next town over; they always had tons of Easter candy left over. Ok, I thought, I’ll run up. Sure enough, a carton full of Cadbury Eggs. I grab 10 to give me an even dozen. Driving home very proud of myself I realize now that it would be cute to put them in an egg carton and present them that way. I didn’t have one so over to my neighbor’s home to see if she had one. Yup, she had one but not one that held 12 eggs…no that would make my life too easy. This egg carton held 18 eggs! So, back up to Walgreens to pick up 6 more eggs. The kid that rang me up the second time was the one that rang me up the first time. He goes wow…you must really like these. I just smiled, grabbed my bag and headed out.
I got home and put all the eggs into the carton, very proud of myself. Jen was coming over on Sunday so I figured I would just give them to her then, Mission accomplished….so I thought. A friend of mine called me early Thursday morning and I had told her what I had done. She said that was very sweet and that I should take them out to her apartment and put them in the fridge for her to find. Nah, I had to go to work and she lives 25 minutes one way. Well of course her idea was rattling in my head. What was the harm? I didn’t really have any work to do and my work wife Shirley said she would keep me company on the ride out. OK...let’s do it. Into my car we hop and head out. As we got onto the parkway, it started to rain, not light rain but came down in buckets, can’t see 10 feet ahead of you..RAIN. I drove very cautiously down the parkway and out Rt. 80, passing two nasty accidents on the way. We finally arrived and I made a quick dash in and out of the apartment. Now the drive home…another accident, traffic, what a mess. But hey, my girlfriend was gonna be very happy.
I anxiously waited for Jen to call, it was getting close to 7pm and she had been home for nearly an hour. Was she going to find them, was she going to skip dinner, never opening the refridge to see my little surprise? I sat down at my desk to do some work when she finally called….”um, were you in my apartment today?” Maybe, I coyly responded. “YOU ARE THE GREATEST GIRLFRIEND EVER. She couldn’t believe that I had done this, that I went to the bother of tracking down all those eggs, getting a carton and then driving in that downpour to do that for HER. She said no one had ever down anything so sweet for her her entire life. Again, just a hopeless romantic. I never had been until I met her, and I told her that. She said she’s happy that she gets to reap the rewards. Sometimes it’s just the little things.
Growth
Posted April 26, 2011
Sorry again for the absence. Things have been, well, not so good. My father has been dealing with a serious health crisis and Sheri and I have both been so overwhelmed with personal and work issues that we both had completely shut down for the past two weeks. We barely spoke and when we did tense silences filled the air. We were off and had no idea how to get back on.
Last week I asked Sheri if she would like to come to my place one night after work so we could have a much needed booty call. Without delving into specifics Sheri is peri-menopausal and her monthly visitor is sporadic and stays way past her welcome. That being so, our sex life isn't consistent and our schedules have not been meshing. I wanted to take advantage of us both being in the clear and see if we could reconnect.
Thursday also happened to be a day my father was in surgery. I didn't stay long after his surgery. They wheeled him back up to the room and he was still groggy from anesthesia so I just went home and took a nap. Sheri was still really getting on my last nerve and while she was supportive during the surgery I asked her if she was still coming over and she said "Not if you're going to be tired and cranky." It pissed me off and rubbed me the wrong way. I said "Thanks Sheri. Thanks for the support. All I wanted was a little company and companionship."
"I just mean I'm not coming over to sit on the couch" was her response.
I didn't answer her for fear of completely unleashing hell. I'm aware of what this was supposed to be. I'm aware that the plan was strictly for a much needed booty call. I puttered around my apartment for a bit and was mulling this over in my head when I said "Be here by 6:30, 7."
I needed sex. And I don't care if we hadn't been really speaking over the past week, by damn I needed a release.
It ended up being exactly what we both needed. I got the apartment ready, laying our toys out on the bed so they were within easy reach. I put on black thigh highs, turquoise lacy undies, a black pencil skirt, white button down shirt, and my hooker boots. My hair was curly, I had my glasses on, and by god if I didn't want to do me. She walked in the door and I made a coy comment. "Why thank you for joining me, Miss Miller. I would like to discuss the most recent quarterly report."
She locked the door behind her and kneeled down in front of me. Words weren't even spoken, she just smiled and she ran her hands up my legs and realized that the stockings didn't go all the way up. She pushed up my skirt and pulled me down towards the edge of the couch and took me right there. We moved to the bedroom where we had two hours of the most earth shattering, explosive sex. All of that pent up anger, frustration, hurt, and emotion came pouring out of us as we reconnected. By the end of if we were laughing and we laid on top of my bed, naked, spooning, and feeling like nothing else mattered. "This is like Going Away sex," She said.
"How so?"
"You know, sex for hours, multiple orgasms, laying naked afterwards..." she trailed off and took a deep, cleansing breath and pulled me closer into her. We stayed like that for a while before it was time for her to go.
It really was just what we needed. Friday my father came home from the hospital and Sheri and I went out with our friend who was in town for Easter. We went bowling and played pool where, Sheri was acting like an ass towards Jen and I stood up for her by calling her on her shit. It again was just a flood of frustration towards her, towards everything, and she bared the brunt of it. We still had fun. Who else can I yell at one second and then another be pulled into the corner for a kiss.
Saturday I spent the day by her. We watched Remember Me and The 10 Commandments. I went home and I don't really recall how we got on the subject but we were talking about something and I brought up Alli (The Girl From Henriettas) and that whole shitstorm in the beginning of our relationship. I know how Sheri met Alli, I also know that Sheri, excuse my french, finger fucked her the night they met. I've known that for a few years and it didn't really bother me, to be honest with you. I just kind of figured it was literally an in and out type of deal, in the dark corner of the bar and that was it. But Saturday night after we got off the phone my head started reeling. What if...what if it was more than that? In my mind I saw this girl, not ever knowing what she looked like, pressed up against the wall while Sheri's hungry mouth and fingers searched for her. I pressed my eyes shut tighter and willed that image to go away but it didn't. And then in my head, she started searching for Sheri, much like I had only a few nights prior.
My eyes flashed open and stared into the darkness of my room.
I picked up the phone and called Sheri back. "Hello?"
"Did she reciprocate?"
"What?" She asked, confused.
"Alli, the night at Henriettas. Did she reciprocate?"
"No, you know my control issues."
"Did you make her cum?"
"....Why are you asking me this nearly 5 years later?"
"Did.you make.her cum?" I repeated.
"I'm not answering that."
"By not answering you are answering. Sheri, did you make her cum?"
"Where is this coming from??"
"DID YOU MAKE HER CUM?"
".....Yes."
My world started spinning. My body was sweating and shaking so hard that it was like I was having a seizure.
"Where did you do it?"
"What?"
"Where in the bar?"
"Yes at the bar."
"No, I mean where in the bar was it? Against the wall? In the bathroom?"
"The bathroom."
I was crying so hard, picturing Sheri plowing this girl, her writhing and screaming in pleasure as she cums all over her hand. My stomach was churning, I felt like the ground was falling out from underneath me. "For YEARS," I spat, "I fucking had to deal with your shit about her. Your insecurities, your projections, FOR YEARS. You treated me like shit and you WANTED to keep her in your life. You made me suffer FOR YEARS because of her and because of what you did."
"Yeah but to me it was over after that night."
"IT WASN'T TO HER! That's why she tried to break us up! That's why she reserved that hotel room. It may have been done for you BUT IT WASN'T FOR HER!"
"But she didn't break us up. I don't get why this is coming up now. You knew what I did with her."
"Yes, I knew to some extent. But it's a whole different ball game that you made her cum. You fucked her and because of that I suffered. You gave me such shit for going out with my friends. You thought that I'd be blowing every guy in the bar because of what YOU did."
"Well yeah. Those were my issues. I knew how easy it could be done. That's why I apologized to you last week. I know what I did was wrong and I am sorry for it. Besides, you slept with Heather and I never said anything about it. And you're still friends with her! I don't even talk to Alli anymore."
I started to calm down, the adreneline was no longer coursing through my veins because I knew she was right. I did sleep with Heather. And she was and still is my best friend. Was that really different than what she did? No matter, "It's different," I protested. "That happened way before we got together, she was my friend before I even met you AND she didn't try to break us up."
I was still crying. I said softly "I think what kills me the most is knowing you're capable of doing that. I see you doing that and I think No, that can't be my Sheri. Not the Sheri who gives horrible backrubs, skips down the streets of New York City, will text me a line from a movie just to make me laugh. My Sheri can't do what she did."
"I was miserable then. I still don't know what brought this up. It was 10 minutes 5 years ago. I don't even think about it and I was there. In my mind you and I weren't even together. You were still with Adam, it shouldn't matter."
"Oh thanks" I said, my stomach lurching, "I'm glad to know how long it took.....I think...I think I wasn't ready to know what really happened. I always just figured it was a quick, literal, in and out thing. Not something more."
I started softly crying again. "I just don't get it. I don't get why I had to suffer for your mistake. You held her over my head as a way to keep me in line. 'I want to go out.' If you go out I'll call Alli. 'I want to see my friends.' Ok, but then I get to see Alli.' And we WERE together. We had only been together in your pool a few nights earlier. We had already been saying 'I love you.' You know something? People think I'm so strong, that I'm so independent. I used to think that about myself too but history proves otherwise. I mold myself to the person I'm dating to be the perfect girlfriend. With Matt and Ryan I was more punk. With Adam I was more provacative, with you I let you control my relationships..."
"I'm the same way. Have to be strong..."
"Can't see behind the mask," I finished.
"Smoke and mirrors babe," she said.
"Why can't we be who we try to portray ourselves to be? What if we all just showed our true selves? Why make everyone believe your life is perfect and your shit together when it's a lie?"
"That's what I thought about you when I met you. You were working, going to school, long term boyfriend, perfect family. I used to think She has it all. I want that."
I curled up on my couch, watching the clock tick well past 1 AM. "I'm tired."
"Go to bed."
"I'm working on it..... I just don't get it," I repeated.
"What is my biggest issue?" She asked.
"Control," I answered.
"Other than that?"
"Trust?" I guessed.
"No, abandonment. I thought you were going to leave me."
"Oh, so that's why you kept her in your backpocket. That's why she was your fallback girl. Because you thought I'd leave, especially after that."
"Mmmhmmm."
"Do you get how backwards that is? You thought I'd leave even though you wanted me so you pushed me away?"
"Keep you at an arm's length. If I'm ready for you to leave, then it won't hurt so bad when you do."
"But I didn't. And you still fought to keep her in your life. That's the biggest part I don't get. You saw how it killed me. You knew what it was doing to us. Yet you still wanted her there."
"I didn't have a lot of friends I could talk to. It was done for me after that night. I just wanted a friend. You are the one who still brings her up out of no where."
We sat in silence for a few drawn out seconds. "Do you know how you damaged me?"
"We damaged each other. But we're good now."
"Why couldn't we have had this conversation five years ago?"
"We weren't ready then. I wouldn't have changed. I would have left. It's taken me this long and the Jillian Michaels book to realize what I did to you. That's why I apologized."
"I know how hard that was for you....but do you honestly think that's all you have to do? You put me through hell for years and once you apologize *poof*, that's it? What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know," she said, confused. "Apologizing was like the last step."
"Apologizing should be the first step. You know what made me so angry all the time?"
"What's that."
"That she GOT to me. I tried so hard not to let her bother me but she DID. I gave her the power to ruin my life for years and I was so MAD at myself for that."
"But you're OK with it now. You said if I saw her you'd be OK."
"Yeah," I mused. "I think it's because I know I won."
"Won what?"
"You!"
"Ha," she joked. "Sometimes I feel like I'm more of a booby prize."
I yawned again, my eyes tired from crying and begging for sleep. "I'm really going to bed this time."
"Ok babe, get some sleep."
I paused for a second, "I love you."
"I love you too."
We hung up and I shuffled back into my bed and whispered into the dark Please stop that image from playing in my head (if anyone is curious, it hasn't yet). I got a text shortly after saying That's the first phone I love you we've said in a while.
Yeah, I thought to myself. It's because it's been a while since I've felt like saying it.
It's been a hard few weeks. But Saturday night's talk did us a lot of good and I'm missing a lot of the conversation. It, I don't know, it helped us. To communicate, which is all that I've ever really wanted from her. I know I have to let it go. She has more than made up for her mistakes and I can't keep having her pay the price for something that she did 5 years ago. It just hit me like a freight train the reality of what really went on between them that night.
I see brighter days for us. It already feels like we're getting back on track.
Sorry again for the absence. Things have been, well, not so good. My father has been dealing with a serious health crisis and Sheri and I have both been so overwhelmed with personal and work issues that we both had completely shut down for the past two weeks. We barely spoke and when we did tense silences filled the air. We were off and had no idea how to get back on.
Last week I asked Sheri if she would like to come to my place one night after work so we could have a much needed booty call. Without delving into specifics Sheri is peri-menopausal and her monthly visitor is sporadic and stays way past her welcome. That being so, our sex life isn't consistent and our schedules have not been meshing. I wanted to take advantage of us both being in the clear and see if we could reconnect.
Thursday also happened to be a day my father was in surgery. I didn't stay long after his surgery. They wheeled him back up to the room and he was still groggy from anesthesia so I just went home and took a nap. Sheri was still really getting on my last nerve and while she was supportive during the surgery I asked her if she was still coming over and she said "Not if you're going to be tired and cranky." It pissed me off and rubbed me the wrong way. I said "Thanks Sheri. Thanks for the support. All I wanted was a little company and companionship."
"I just mean I'm not coming over to sit on the couch" was her response.
I didn't answer her for fear of completely unleashing hell. I'm aware of what this was supposed to be. I'm aware that the plan was strictly for a much needed booty call. I puttered around my apartment for a bit and was mulling this over in my head when I said "Be here by 6:30, 7."
I needed sex. And I don't care if we hadn't been really speaking over the past week, by damn I needed a release.
It ended up being exactly what we both needed. I got the apartment ready, laying our toys out on the bed so they were within easy reach. I put on black thigh highs, turquoise lacy undies, a black pencil skirt, white button down shirt, and my hooker boots. My hair was curly, I had my glasses on, and by god if I didn't want to do me. She walked in the door and I made a coy comment. "Why thank you for joining me, Miss Miller. I would like to discuss the most recent quarterly report."
She locked the door behind her and kneeled down in front of me. Words weren't even spoken, she just smiled and she ran her hands up my legs and realized that the stockings didn't go all the way up. She pushed up my skirt and pulled me down towards the edge of the couch and took me right there. We moved to the bedroom where we had two hours of the most earth shattering, explosive sex. All of that pent up anger, frustration, hurt, and emotion came pouring out of us as we reconnected. By the end of if we were laughing and we laid on top of my bed, naked, spooning, and feeling like nothing else mattered. "This is like Going Away sex," She said.
"How so?"
"You know, sex for hours, multiple orgasms, laying naked afterwards..." she trailed off and took a deep, cleansing breath and pulled me closer into her. We stayed like that for a while before it was time for her to go.
It really was just what we needed. Friday my father came home from the hospital and Sheri and I went out with our friend who was in town for Easter. We went bowling and played pool where, Sheri was acting like an ass towards Jen and I stood up for her by calling her on her shit. It again was just a flood of frustration towards her, towards everything, and she bared the brunt of it. We still had fun. Who else can I yell at one second and then another be pulled into the corner for a kiss.
Saturday I spent the day by her. We watched Remember Me and The 10 Commandments. I went home and I don't really recall how we got on the subject but we were talking about something and I brought up Alli (The Girl From Henriettas) and that whole shitstorm in the beginning of our relationship. I know how Sheri met Alli, I also know that Sheri, excuse my french, finger fucked her the night they met. I've known that for a few years and it didn't really bother me, to be honest with you. I just kind of figured it was literally an in and out type of deal, in the dark corner of the bar and that was it. But Saturday night after we got off the phone my head started reeling. What if...what if it was more than that? In my mind I saw this girl, not ever knowing what she looked like, pressed up against the wall while Sheri's hungry mouth and fingers searched for her. I pressed my eyes shut tighter and willed that image to go away but it didn't. And then in my head, she started searching for Sheri, much like I had only a few nights prior.
My eyes flashed open and stared into the darkness of my room.
I picked up the phone and called Sheri back. "Hello?"
"Did she reciprocate?"
"What?" She asked, confused.
"Alli, the night at Henriettas. Did she reciprocate?"
"No, you know my control issues."
"Did you make her cum?"
"....Why are you asking me this nearly 5 years later?"
"Did.you make.her cum?" I repeated.
"I'm not answering that."
"By not answering you are answering. Sheri, did you make her cum?"
"Where is this coming from??"
"DID YOU MAKE HER CUM?"
".....Yes."
My world started spinning. My body was sweating and shaking so hard that it was like I was having a seizure.
"Where did you do it?"
"What?"
"Where in the bar?"
"Yes at the bar."
"No, I mean where in the bar was it? Against the wall? In the bathroom?"
"The bathroom."
I was crying so hard, picturing Sheri plowing this girl, her writhing and screaming in pleasure as she cums all over her hand. My stomach was churning, I felt like the ground was falling out from underneath me. "For YEARS," I spat, "I fucking had to deal with your shit about her. Your insecurities, your projections, FOR YEARS. You treated me like shit and you WANTED to keep her in your life. You made me suffer FOR YEARS because of her and because of what you did."
"Yeah but to me it was over after that night."
"IT WASN'T TO HER! That's why she tried to break us up! That's why she reserved that hotel room. It may have been done for you BUT IT WASN'T FOR HER!"
"But she didn't break us up. I don't get why this is coming up now. You knew what I did with her."
"Yes, I knew to some extent. But it's a whole different ball game that you made her cum. You fucked her and because of that I suffered. You gave me such shit for going out with my friends. You thought that I'd be blowing every guy in the bar because of what YOU did."
"Well yeah. Those were my issues. I knew how easy it could be done. That's why I apologized to you last week. I know what I did was wrong and I am sorry for it. Besides, you slept with Heather and I never said anything about it. And you're still friends with her! I don't even talk to Alli anymore."
I started to calm down, the adreneline was no longer coursing through my veins because I knew she was right. I did sleep with Heather. And she was and still is my best friend. Was that really different than what she did? No matter, "It's different," I protested. "That happened way before we got together, she was my friend before I even met you AND she didn't try to break us up."
I was still crying. I said softly "I think what kills me the most is knowing you're capable of doing that. I see you doing that and I think No, that can't be my Sheri. Not the Sheri who gives horrible backrubs, skips down the streets of New York City, will text me a line from a movie just to make me laugh. My Sheri can't do what she did."
"I was miserable then. I still don't know what brought this up. It was 10 minutes 5 years ago. I don't even think about it and I was there. In my mind you and I weren't even together. You were still with Adam, it shouldn't matter."
"Oh thanks" I said, my stomach lurching, "I'm glad to know how long it took.....I think...I think I wasn't ready to know what really happened. I always just figured it was a quick, literal, in and out thing. Not something more."
I started softly crying again. "I just don't get it. I don't get why I had to suffer for your mistake. You held her over my head as a way to keep me in line. 'I want to go out.' If you go out I'll call Alli. 'I want to see my friends.' Ok, but then I get to see Alli.' And we WERE together. We had only been together in your pool a few nights earlier. We had already been saying 'I love you.' You know something? People think I'm so strong, that I'm so independent. I used to think that about myself too but history proves otherwise. I mold myself to the person I'm dating to be the perfect girlfriend. With Matt and Ryan I was more punk. With Adam I was more provacative, with you I let you control my relationships..."
"I'm the same way. Have to be strong..."
"Can't see behind the mask," I finished.
"Smoke and mirrors babe," she said.
"Why can't we be who we try to portray ourselves to be? What if we all just showed our true selves? Why make everyone believe your life is perfect and your shit together when it's a lie?"
"That's what I thought about you when I met you. You were working, going to school, long term boyfriend, perfect family. I used to think She has it all. I want that."
I curled up on my couch, watching the clock tick well past 1 AM. "I'm tired."
"Go to bed."
"I'm working on it..... I just don't get it," I repeated.
"What is my biggest issue?" She asked.
"Control," I answered.
"Other than that?"
"Trust?" I guessed.
"No, abandonment. I thought you were going to leave me."
"Oh, so that's why you kept her in your backpocket. That's why she was your fallback girl. Because you thought I'd leave, especially after that."
"Mmmhmmm."
"Do you get how backwards that is? You thought I'd leave even though you wanted me so you pushed me away?"
"Keep you at an arm's length. If I'm ready for you to leave, then it won't hurt so bad when you do."
"But I didn't. And you still fought to keep her in your life. That's the biggest part I don't get. You saw how it killed me. You knew what it was doing to us. Yet you still wanted her there."
"I didn't have a lot of friends I could talk to. It was done for me after that night. I just wanted a friend. You are the one who still brings her up out of no where."
We sat in silence for a few drawn out seconds. "Do you know how you damaged me?"
"We damaged each other. But we're good now."
"Why couldn't we have had this conversation five years ago?"
"We weren't ready then. I wouldn't have changed. I would have left. It's taken me this long and the Jillian Michaels book to realize what I did to you. That's why I apologized."
"I know how hard that was for you....but do you honestly think that's all you have to do? You put me through hell for years and once you apologize *poof*, that's it? What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know," she said, confused. "Apologizing was like the last step."
"Apologizing should be the first step. You know what made me so angry all the time?"
"What's that."
"That she GOT to me. I tried so hard not to let her bother me but she DID. I gave her the power to ruin my life for years and I was so MAD at myself for that."
"But you're OK with it now. You said if I saw her you'd be OK."
"Yeah," I mused. "I think it's because I know I won."
"Won what?"
"You!"
"Ha," she joked. "Sometimes I feel like I'm more of a booby prize."
I yawned again, my eyes tired from crying and begging for sleep. "I'm really going to bed this time."
"Ok babe, get some sleep."
I paused for a second, "I love you."
"I love you too."
We hung up and I shuffled back into my bed and whispered into the dark Please stop that image from playing in my head (if anyone is curious, it hasn't yet). I got a text shortly after saying That's the first phone I love you we've said in a while.
Yeah, I thought to myself. It's because it's been a while since I've felt like saying it.
It's been a hard few weeks. But Saturday night's talk did us a lot of good and I'm missing a lot of the conversation. It, I don't know, it helped us. To communicate, which is all that I've ever really wanted from her. I know I have to let it go. She has more than made up for her mistakes and I can't keep having her pay the price for something that she did 5 years ago. It just hit me like a freight train the reality of what really went on between them that night.
I see brighter days for us. It already feels like we're getting back on track.
The Roof is on Fire
Posted April 11, 2011
Today is my love's birthday but we celebrated over the weekend.
A few weeks ago we had a dinner party at my best friend S's house. She and her husband made BeerCan Chicken which is the moistest chicken I have ever had in my life. It tasted so good that Sheri and I declared that we would have it all the time once summer rolled around. When planning her birthday dinner she stated that she wanted to make Beer Can Chicken at home.
For the weeks leading up to this past Saturday our mouths would water every time "Chicken" was uttered. The recipe and cooking process is seemingly easy- take a chicken, shove a beer can up it's butt, coat in olive oil and a dry rub and set on the grill for about an hour over a medium/low heat.
Saturday came and it was time to shop. The stores didn't have one big chicken (We needed one about 11 lbs) so we bought two smaller ones, about 5 lbs each. I picked up some Perfect Pinch all-purpose seasoning (Salt free-I'm not a salt person) and at the liquor store I got an 8-pack of the small beer cans. Smaller chicken=smaller beer can. We wanted to make sure it'd fit up the chicken's bum.
We came home and our friend Luis came over and we talked for a bit when around 4:00 we decided it was time to start dinner. Hannah, Sheri's teenager, had helped me cut up 5 lbs of red potatoes for my famous roasted reds and those were put in the oven for the next hour. Sheri and I rubbed Olive Oil all over the chickens and the seasoning, gave them both a little slap to cook well, and gently slide them down over the beer can. Luis had said from the other side of the kitchen it sounded like a porno.
"Ok lift that up."
"Is it in?"
"No you have to pull it apart wider."
"Easy now, slide it down."
Once the cans were in place we carried them out to the grill. I precariously lifted them up, making sure that the can didn't slip out and put them on the grill (they have to be in the standing position). We closed the lid and went back inside.
About 15 minutes later we're still standing in the kitchen and talking when Sheri's little one, Jillian, walked in. She goes to the backdoor and looks out at the grill and says "Umm, Mom? Is it supposed to be smoking like that?"
We looked outside and we see that there is smoke BILLOWING out of the grill. I glanced down a bit and noticed the ENTIRE underneath part was glowing with fire. "HOLY SHIT! IT'S ON FIRE!" I screamed.
Sheri and I ran outside and she ordered Jillian to stay in the house. I wasn't sure what to do thinking that any moment the propane tank could explode. I ran over to the grill and I turned all of the burners off but the fire was still blazing strong. I screamed at Sheri "Go get a fire extinguisher!"
"I don't have one!" She yelled back.
"We have to put this fire out before it gets to the tank!"
Sheri, being ever so brave, reached under the burning grill and started frantically closing the tank nozzle to cut off the supply. Once the tank was off she grabbed the fire poker that's outside for the fire pit and lifted the lid. There stood our two chickens, completely blackened and still on fire. With the gas off the fire died down on it's own and we were safe. She got tongs and lifted the chickens and put them on a baking sheet. And then she said "Babe, I think they're done."
"Sheri, they've been on there for 15 minutes. They're not done. And even if they were they're completely burnt!"
"No look! We can scrape the burnt layer off. I think we can salvage them!"
"No, absolutely not. I am not serving blackened chicken to your mother. I'll never hear the end of it. I'll go to the store and get two more, dispose of these so your mother doesn't see and then no one will be the wiser."
I grabbed a garbage bag when I heard Sheri's mother shuffling towards the kitchen and ran outside. We dumped the chickens in the garbage and disposed of the evidence before anyone else could see them.
Luis and I went to the store and we picked up two more chickens and a pack of chicken breasts, just in case.
We rushed home, seasoned the chicken all over again and brought them out to the grill. THIS time we left them on the baking sheet so the drippings didn't drip down and start another fire.
An hour later we were enjoying two very, VERY delicious chickens and I was thanking the heavens that dinner didn't entirely go up in flames.
Today is my love's birthday but we celebrated over the weekend.
A few weeks ago we had a dinner party at my best friend S's house. She and her husband made BeerCan Chicken which is the moistest chicken I have ever had in my life. It tasted so good that Sheri and I declared that we would have it all the time once summer rolled around. When planning her birthday dinner she stated that she wanted to make Beer Can Chicken at home.
For the weeks leading up to this past Saturday our mouths would water every time "Chicken" was uttered. The recipe and cooking process is seemingly easy- take a chicken, shove a beer can up it's butt, coat in olive oil and a dry rub and set on the grill for about an hour over a medium/low heat.
Saturday came and it was time to shop. The stores didn't have one big chicken (We needed one about 11 lbs) so we bought two smaller ones, about 5 lbs each. I picked up some Perfect Pinch all-purpose seasoning (Salt free-I'm not a salt person) and at the liquor store I got an 8-pack of the small beer cans. Smaller chicken=smaller beer can. We wanted to make sure it'd fit up the chicken's bum.
We came home and our friend Luis came over and we talked for a bit when around 4:00 we decided it was time to start dinner. Hannah, Sheri's teenager, had helped me cut up 5 lbs of red potatoes for my famous roasted reds and those were put in the oven for the next hour. Sheri and I rubbed Olive Oil all over the chickens and the seasoning, gave them both a little slap to cook well, and gently slide them down over the beer can. Luis had said from the other side of the kitchen it sounded like a porno.
"Ok lift that up."
"Is it in?"
"No you have to pull it apart wider."
"Easy now, slide it down."
Once the cans were in place we carried them out to the grill. I precariously lifted them up, making sure that the can didn't slip out and put them on the grill (they have to be in the standing position). We closed the lid and went back inside.
About 15 minutes later we're still standing in the kitchen and talking when Sheri's little one, Jillian, walked in. She goes to the backdoor and looks out at the grill and says "Umm, Mom? Is it supposed to be smoking like that?"
We looked outside and we see that there is smoke BILLOWING out of the grill. I glanced down a bit and noticed the ENTIRE underneath part was glowing with fire. "HOLY SHIT! IT'S ON FIRE!" I screamed.
Sheri and I ran outside and she ordered Jillian to stay in the house. I wasn't sure what to do thinking that any moment the propane tank could explode. I ran over to the grill and I turned all of the burners off but the fire was still blazing strong. I screamed at Sheri "Go get a fire extinguisher!"
"I don't have one!" She yelled back.
"We have to put this fire out before it gets to the tank!"
Sheri, being ever so brave, reached under the burning grill and started frantically closing the tank nozzle to cut off the supply. Once the tank was off she grabbed the fire poker that's outside for the fire pit and lifted the lid. There stood our two chickens, completely blackened and still on fire. With the gas off the fire died down on it's own and we were safe. She got tongs and lifted the chickens and put them on a baking sheet. And then she said "Babe, I think they're done."
"Sheri, they've been on there for 15 minutes. They're not done. And even if they were they're completely burnt!"
"No look! We can scrape the burnt layer off. I think we can salvage them!"
"No, absolutely not. I am not serving blackened chicken to your mother. I'll never hear the end of it. I'll go to the store and get two more, dispose of these so your mother doesn't see and then no one will be the wiser."
I grabbed a garbage bag when I heard Sheri's mother shuffling towards the kitchen and ran outside. We dumped the chickens in the garbage and disposed of the evidence before anyone else could see them.
Luis and I went to the store and we picked up two more chickens and a pack of chicken breasts, just in case.
We rushed home, seasoned the chicken all over again and brought them out to the grill. THIS time we left them on the baking sheet so the drippings didn't drip down and start another fire.
An hour later we were enjoying two very, VERY delicious chickens and I was thanking the heavens that dinner didn't entirely go up in flames.
Rest in Peace Chickens-I'm sorry that you died needlessly.
Our friend Luis left the following on Sheri's wall to wish her a happy birthday :
Ex and the City
Posted April 3, 2011
For those of you that have read us since the beginning of this blog know that I am a divorced mother of two. Jen and I have been together for four plus years. Next week I will be turning forty five and as I have gotten older, and yes, wiser, I’ve learned a few things about myself. First off, according to Jennifer I have no filter on my mouth. True, I believe that if I’m going to say something to someone or about someone it should be the truth. Jens always telling me “FILTER!” or my kids are like “mom, that’s not very nice”. Well it may not be filtered and it may not be very nice but for sure it’s the truth. So yes, sometimes the truth hurts but better to be honest than sugar coat.
Moving on. I’ve always been honest with my kids about why their father and I ended up divorcing. He wasn’t happy, and if you’re not happy ya gotta go. So he went. For any of you that have been through a breakup or ended a relationship know that you kinda go through all of these emotions. It’s funny, I always think of it as an AA meeting, not that I’ve ever been to one, but apparently there are all these steps that you go thru, denial, anger, and acceptance. Wait, maybe it’s not AA but death. Oh well. Either way you look at it, it’s the end of something. Now you can either accept it and move on and be grateful for what’s left or wallow in self pity for what was lost. I chose to move on. There was nothing that I could do about the past but I certainly could do something about the future.
My ex husband is not a bad guy. He has this niceness about him, something that drew me to him in the first place. We met in 1992. I was a store manager and we had a mutual friend that I had gone to high school with but we didn’t know each other. My friend called and said he had a friend that had just gotten out of the service and needed a job. I said ok, send him over. He was this skinny kid with a crew cut, very well mannered and polite. I had been dating someone else at the time for almost two years. But as I got to know this kid the more I realized he had a lot of potential and for anyone that has read this blog knows, I love a good project. And I think that’s what I saw him as, a project. So as we worked together and got to know each other better I came to realize that one day that was the kind of guy I wanted. Little did I know.
My relationship with the guy that I had been dating had begun to falter and I was very unhappy. By now, I’ve already begun to have feelings for my ex, who was eyeing up dating a friend of mine that also worked with us. So what do I do? I purposely fix up my friend with my ex so I can get him off the market and still kinda hang out with him and my friend because that’s what we would do. Work together all day, hang out together all night. So my devious little plan begins to work. I start the breakup process with my boyfriend so by the time I’m done with it my ex and my friend will have run their course and he will be mine for the taking. Jen hates when I say this but I always get what I want. So my little plan goes off without a hitch. And yes, I know it was a shitty thing to do to my friend, but I wanted him.
I can remember asking him one day what he wanted out of life. “Everything”, he said. I said I can give you everything and he said ok, let’s try this. So we began dating and after four months we were living together, engaged after eight months and married a year and a half later.
Long story short, gave him everything, still wasn’t happy, divorced after ten years. We will be divorced six years this coming September. He is remarried with a new baby and believe it or not, I couldn’t be happier for him. Yes, happy for my ex husband and his new life. See, along with this age you come to realized that there’s nothing more counterproductive than anger over things you can’t change. My ex husband and I have a friendly relationship. I think at times we get along better now than we ever did before. But it took a long time to get to this point. Like I said earlier, you go though all these emotions and you blame yourself for failing at the biggest thing you may ever do in your life…to promise to love and cherish someone til death do you part. Epic fail….and trust me, I haven’t failed at many things that I have attempted in my life so far. But I blew this, and yes I take a lot of the blame for the failure of my marriage. My husband was unhappy and looking back, I don’t blame him. Our marriage had turned into a finely tuned machine. We were team mates not life mates. We fell out of love and he was the one brave enough to say he wanted out. I’m sure I was unhappy but didn’t even realize it. I always say it’s hard to see the big picture when you’re standing in it. Once I stepped out of it I could look at it with clear eyes and vision, seeing all the imperfections and flaws that I had seemingly glassed over in hopes of not failing.
As I said, he’s a good guy. He has pissed me off a few times since then. Things that he would never question me on, he will sometimes give me slack about. The thing is I know it’s not coming from him but the new wife. I know this guy; I spent twelve years of my life with him. Since the day he left I have respected his life, never interfering like crazy ex wives do. He has always had access to our girls, seeing them every other weekend and a week during the summer. He’s a good dad for the most part. I say for the most part because he has done some shitty things to our oldest as far as reading text messages and infiltrating her blog site where she would go to vent but I know he only did it because he has her best interest at heart. He has this new little daughter that I relish seeing when he picks up or drops off our two on the weekends he has them. I actually give him a hard time when he doesn’t bring her. I love babies and she looks just like my youngest with big blue eyes and that strawberry blond hair. I look at her and I feel this calmness come over me, knowing that she is a part of my children and they are a part of me, of him and I. Jen doesn’t understand how it doesn’t bother me that he’s moved on and not only moved on but has another family now. Why should it bother me, he has his life, I have mine. I have two beautiful, smart, funny daughters. My oldest recently told me that she has always respected the fact that since her father left I have never interfered in his life. She forgets he has never interfered in mine.
I think sometimes I’ve become the person that my ex wanted all along….minus the gay part, lol. I’m not as rigid as I once was; I relish my time with Jen doing the silliest things. I think maybe that was all he wanted. But I lost my way and in the end we lost us. Jen has definitely made me realize that I’m entitled to have a life and be happy. We went for dinner the other night and all she wanted to do afterwards was drive down to this little area and stare at the skyline of nyc. Fifteen years ago I would have argued that that was a ridiculous waste of time. Now, it’s the small things that I remember, I take time to just sit in silence with the girl that I love and just be. No words need to be spoken, just a moment frozen it time to reflex on how far I’ve come.
ps sorry for the font size...my eyes have gone to shit!
Who Wrote the Book of Love?
Posted March 21, 2011
So how many of you needed cold showers after my last post? Since I wrote Sheri's been alternating between calling me "Kinky Girl" or "Horn Girl." Once in a while I'd make some sexual inuendo (in YOURendo) and she'd laugh and say "You're so diiiiirty" to which I denied. Isn't that everyone's fantasty? To have a lady in the streets but a freakin the bed?
Friday night after work I met up with Sheri at her local Pathmark which is closing to give our Hotel Durango one more check-in. In the recent weeks numerous places that marked the beginning of mine and Sheri's relationship has closed. A few years ago the movie theater in which we saw our first movie together closed, we found out the restaurant that we would eat at every day for our 4-Martini lunches when we worked together is now closed (Let me tell you how that broke my heart) and now the Pathmark that we frequented for shopping for dinner or utilizing the outskirts of the parking lot to have sex when we had no where else to go is closing. We joked with a heavy heart that one day the PetSmart that we worked at will close down just because it was a very low volume store. I mean where else could you have the opportunity to take a two-hour lunch and then play football in the stock room and have it not be an issue?
Well we used to have our best sex in the back of the Durango when we first started dating. We used to joke that it would end up on cinderblocks in the driveway just because we could never get rid of it. But Friday night showed us that like our relationship, our sex has evolved past what it was. It was awkward, stressful, cramped, and overall not good. I mean it wasn't horrible but she didn't climax and we had a street lamp shining in our eyes and cars driving by so that we had to duck. After I had moved into the apartment last year at the house and we started having sex regularly in a bed we didn't need Hotel Durango anymore so we didn't use it much. Actually it's been nearly a year since we were back there last. I used to drive up to meet her after work for a booty call and we'd attempt to have sex which majority of the time just ended up with one of us (her) getting frustrated because it just wasn't working anymore. We made peace with the fact that Hotel Durango is officially retired but that's just another thing from our past that's not there anymore.
Time to make new memories, she would say.
Saturday was amazingly awesome. I picked up my laptop (yay) and cleaned the apartment and got ready to greet Sheri at the door in nothing other than a button down shirt and some socks. Let's just say that the sex Saturday definitely made up for Friday night and it may be a slight possibility that my neighbors may have heard my screams of pleasure echoing through my complex. We laid there afterwards just memorizing every inch of our bodies with our finger tips as we just prattled on about nothing and everything. When we do have sex the majority of the time we are in an absolute fit of hysterics. We often ask "Have you ever done this with anyone else...?" and it's always a resounding, "No." Like the way we laugh, I mean this is side-splitting-cannot-breathe laughing. Nevermind the fact that we're naked and generally sex is hot and sweaty and serious but it never fails that just one gurgle of the belly or one glance out of the corner of our eyes and we are howling with laughter to the point of where we get cramps. I've never had that with anyone other than Sheri. And she told me that she's never had that because she has never been so comfortable with someone as she is with me. We just have...I don't know what we have but whatever it is we have a lot of it.
Bottom line is we're a fucking blast to be around.
Case in point after we were done on Saturday and finally got up and dressed we had plans to have dinner with my friends.
We got ready together and drove down to my friend S's house where were having a dinner party with just the 5 of us (S, her husband T, our best friend K, Sheri and I) and it was so much fun. I do always have dinner parties with Sheri's friends but it was such an amazing change for it to be my friends for once. S made this AMAZING beer-can chicken on the grill that was so moist and tender and FLAVORFUL it was fantastic. Sheri loved it more than she realized and we will most definitely be making it this summer.
It was so nice to sit around with all of my girls and laughing and having fun. At one point T was in the kitchen carving the chicken and S and K were in the downstairs den talking by the fire and Sheri and I were in the living room alone. They had awesome music on (Etta James, Louie Armstrong, etc) and I bid her to dance with me. Sheri doesn't dance but I pulled her up and we were slow dancing and laughing in the living room and I honestly could not have been happier.
It's amazing how we've grown. A few years back we would have been bar hopping and getting hammered and now we're all adults having dinner parties and serious conversations about mortgage rates and jobs and joking back and forth and starting families. When did we grow up?
Sunday was a touch and go day for Sheri and I. I woke up early and she wanted to set up a garage sale but had absolutely no prep whatsoever. No advertising, no signs, nothing other than dragging furniture out of her garage and setting it up in the driveway. Not the way I'd do things in the least...and half of the crap that needs to go remained in the garage. We were butting heads over that but it was a moot point because not one person showed up (probably because no one knew it was happening) and after a few hours we resolved to doing things around the yard. It was chillier yesterday but the sun was warm and felt amazing heating up my skin. While we were sitting on her front porch just listening to the birds with our eyes closed and our faces soaking up the rays she said "Hey, you wanna throw the football around?"
So for a few minutes we threw it back and forth, joking about how we would do this in the stock room, drunk, after lunch. Something so simple that brought us closer together. After our arms started to hurt we decided to go for a bike ride. We hopped on our bikes and rode around the block, marveling at the houses and the buds on the trees. We were laughing and joking, her making fun of me because I'm horrified to turn left on my bike (I make really wide turns for a fear of losing my balance and falling off) and I'd look at her and smile and say "Again, this is what normal couples do. They spend their weekends together, having dinner parties with friends and garage sales and bike riding and yard work and nap in the afternoon."
When we got home we put the furniture back into the garage and climbed into her bed to watch some TV and relax a little before we had to go pick up her youngest from her father.
I revel in this. I love being with her, I love our weekends now that she's out of retail. I love feeling normal.
Basically, there's a whole lotta love.
And sex. Always a whole lotta sex.
So how many of you needed cold showers after my last post? Since I wrote Sheri's been alternating between calling me "Kinky Girl" or "Horn Girl." Once in a while I'd make some sexual inuendo (in YOURendo) and she'd laugh and say "You're so diiiiirty" to which I denied. Isn't that everyone's fantasty? To have a lady in the streets but a freakin the bed?
Friday night after work I met up with Sheri at her local Pathmark which is closing to give our Hotel Durango one more check-in. In the recent weeks numerous places that marked the beginning of mine and Sheri's relationship has closed. A few years ago the movie theater in which we saw our first movie together closed, we found out the restaurant that we would eat at every day for our 4-Martini lunches when we worked together is now closed (Let me tell you how that broke my heart) and now the Pathmark that we frequented for shopping for dinner or utilizing the outskirts of the parking lot to have sex when we had no where else to go is closing. We joked with a heavy heart that one day the PetSmart that we worked at will close down just because it was a very low volume store. I mean where else could you have the opportunity to take a two-hour lunch and then play football in the stock room and have it not be an issue?
Well we used to have our best sex in the back of the Durango when we first started dating. We used to joke that it would end up on cinderblocks in the driveway just because we could never get rid of it. But Friday night showed us that like our relationship, our sex has evolved past what it was. It was awkward, stressful, cramped, and overall not good. I mean it wasn't horrible but she didn't climax and we had a street lamp shining in our eyes and cars driving by so that we had to duck. After I had moved into the apartment last year at the house and we started having sex regularly in a bed we didn't need Hotel Durango anymore so we didn't use it much. Actually it's been nearly a year since we were back there last. I used to drive up to meet her after work for a booty call and we'd attempt to have sex which majority of the time just ended up with one of us (her) getting frustrated because it just wasn't working anymore. We made peace with the fact that Hotel Durango is officially retired but that's just another thing from our past that's not there anymore.
Time to make new memories, she would say.
Saturday was amazingly awesome. I picked up my laptop (yay) and cleaned the apartment and got ready to greet Sheri at the door in nothing other than a button down shirt and some socks. Let's just say that the sex Saturday definitely made up for Friday night and it may be a slight possibility that my neighbors may have heard my screams of pleasure echoing through my complex. We laid there afterwards just memorizing every inch of our bodies with our finger tips as we just prattled on about nothing and everything. When we do have sex the majority of the time we are in an absolute fit of hysterics. We often ask "Have you ever done this with anyone else...?" and it's always a resounding, "No." Like the way we laugh, I mean this is side-splitting-cannot-breathe laughing. Nevermind the fact that we're naked and generally sex is hot and sweaty and serious but it never fails that just one gurgle of the belly or one glance out of the corner of our eyes and we are howling with laughter to the point of where we get cramps. I've never had that with anyone other than Sheri. And she told me that she's never had that because she has never been so comfortable with someone as she is with me. We just have...I don't know what we have but whatever it is we have a lot of it.
Bottom line is we're a fucking blast to be around.
Case in point after we were done on Saturday and finally got up and dressed we had plans to have dinner with my friends.
We got ready together and drove down to my friend S's house where were having a dinner party with just the 5 of us (S, her husband T, our best friend K, Sheri and I) and it was so much fun. I do always have dinner parties with Sheri's friends but it was such an amazing change for it to be my friends for once. S made this AMAZING beer-can chicken on the grill that was so moist and tender and FLAVORFUL it was fantastic. Sheri loved it more than she realized and we will most definitely be making it this summer.
It was so nice to sit around with all of my girls and laughing and having fun. At one point T was in the kitchen carving the chicken and S and K were in the downstairs den talking by the fire and Sheri and I were in the living room alone. They had awesome music on (Etta James, Louie Armstrong, etc) and I bid her to dance with me. Sheri doesn't dance but I pulled her up and we were slow dancing and laughing in the living room and I honestly could not have been happier.
It's amazing how we've grown. A few years back we would have been bar hopping and getting hammered and now we're all adults having dinner parties and serious conversations about mortgage rates and jobs and joking back and forth and starting families. When did we grow up?
Sunday was a touch and go day for Sheri and I. I woke up early and she wanted to set up a garage sale but had absolutely no prep whatsoever. No advertising, no signs, nothing other than dragging furniture out of her garage and setting it up in the driveway. Not the way I'd do things in the least...and half of the crap that needs to go remained in the garage. We were butting heads over that but it was a moot point because not one person showed up (probably because no one knew it was happening) and after a few hours we resolved to doing things around the yard. It was chillier yesterday but the sun was warm and felt amazing heating up my skin. While we were sitting on her front porch just listening to the birds with our eyes closed and our faces soaking up the rays she said "Hey, you wanna throw the football around?"
So for a few minutes we threw it back and forth, joking about how we would do this in the stock room, drunk, after lunch. Something so simple that brought us closer together. After our arms started to hurt we decided to go for a bike ride. We hopped on our bikes and rode around the block, marveling at the houses and the buds on the trees. We were laughing and joking, her making fun of me because I'm horrified to turn left on my bike (I make really wide turns for a fear of losing my balance and falling off) and I'd look at her and smile and say "Again, this is what normal couples do. They spend their weekends together, having dinner parties with friends and garage sales and bike riding and yard work and nap in the afternoon."
When we got home we put the furniture back into the garage and climbed into her bed to watch some TV and relax a little before we had to go pick up her youngest from her father.
I revel in this. I love being with her, I love our weekends now that she's out of retail. I love feeling normal.
Basically, there's a whole lotta love.
And sex. Always a whole lotta sex.
Sex and Toys
Posted March 16, 2011
Sheri and I have started another round of the great debate about what we will write, and who will write it. Do you realize that it's like pulling teeth to get her to write? "But I like reading what you have to write," she'll protest.
We figure we'll give the Lezzie masses something we haven't written about in a while: Sex.
Let's talk about sex baby, let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things....
Oh, sorry. That got away from me for a second.
Let's talk about sex
FOCUS!
Ever since I became sexually active at the proper age of 18 (or 15 depending upon which gender I first had sex with (15-girl; 18; boy)) I started having a plethora of sex dreams. I've always lusted after women, fantasized about them and preferred to watch two women together over a straight couple, and definately over two men (Which I'm sorry, call me a hypocrite but I want to see nothing of two men having sex together. Sheri, on the other hand, LOVES it) but I only dated and slept with men with the occassional dabble in the female gender.
When I was with my boyfriend for 3 years I would often dream of being with a woman. Granted sometimes those dreams, albiet revolving around sex, were not that sexy. Often the women were rank and left me, literally, with a bad taste in my mouth. One reoccuring theme however, was that of penis envy.
I would dream that I was me, a female, but I had a massively long donkey dick. Like a foot long. Many dreams would actually be just me masturbating. I'd be looking down and stroking myself, trying in vain to reach orgasm (which has NEVER happened in my dreams and I often just wake up with my hand down my pants) and it would stir in me the desire to be me, but have a penis.
I don't know if you would classify me as a freak in bed. I don't think I do anything too out of the ordinary. I'm not asking you to dress me up from head to toe in latex and gag me, but I do enjoy some light bondage and a good bite or spanking now and again. Gets my juices flowing, so to speak.
When Sheri and I first started sleeping together it was rather akward. She is not unexperienced in the least but she never had a partner who wanted certain things that I did. And she was the first woman I had slept with in years, and also the first woman that I slept with on a regular basis, so it was a learning curve for both of us. I don't quite recall when or how the conversation arose but we began talking about our likes in the sack. I did mention to her that I like to be handcuffed, blindfolded, and spanked. I also enjoy the dirty talk and for you to call me names.
Basically I like a good fuck.
Sheri had never been recipient to such behavior being the control freak that she is and definately never had to dole it out. So she called one of her good friends in a panic and said "Jen wants me to SPANK her!"
And her friend said, "So spank her. What's the issue?"
Hahaha, I remember the first time she tried. We were in my bedroom, my parents gone for the weekend, and things were moving along nicely and she outstretched her hand and then stopped. She turned beet red and started to giggle nervously. I smirked and encouraged her with my eyes, sticking my bare behind out a little farther and she wound up again. When she "spanked" me it wasn't a firm solid slap, it consisted of numerous quick little taps. I looked up at her, bewildered, and asked "What in the hell was that?!"
We both ended up in a fit of hysterics because she was so nervous that she'd hurt me. "Umm," I stated, "that's kind of the point."
As if that wasn't bad enough, I asked her to choke me. Not to the point of you know, killing me, but just take me by the throat and do me.
Poor woman. She looked like a deer in headlights.
It took a few times for her to feel more comfortable in bed. She gained the confidence to give me a nice firm smack and wrap her hand around my throat. Sometimes however, I do have to remind her to go easy. She'll swing and literally miss on the first attempt and end up smacking my back which just cripples me for a few seconds. Or she won't get a square hit and then repeatedly smack my ass to where I'm trying to roll away from her while howling "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU?! IF YOU MISS DO NOT AIM FOR THE SAME CHEEK! SWITCH SIDES BETWEEN SMACKS!" And she's chasing me going "Come here! I missed! It wasn't a good one!"
We have fun with our sex, if not for nothing else.
Back to the penis envy.
So after we got the handcuff and spanking down I wanted to plant the seed of bringing in some extra....props. I did start to tell Sheri my curiosity at using a strap on. Now I had never used let alone see a dildo before so I didn't know how the mechanics of it would work. Sheri, for nearly two years, was adamant about saying no. "If I wanted a dick I'd sleep with a man," she'd say.
It was all about control. Sheri and I are both control freaks and while I do enjoy to be dominated, I also like to dominate. In order to get Sheri to comply with using a strap on she'd have to relinquish some of that control to me and for the longest time she wouldn't have it.
Until that one magical day. I don't know if it was my incessent prodding (heh) but she said "Ok, we can try it."
I didn't wait for her to change her mind. I immediately went out and began my search for a strap on. I went to this little dirty hole-in-the-wall dive of a sex shop about 20 minutes away from me. It was the seedy type of place where I felt like I needed a trench coat and a hat with some shifty eyes just to drive by it. I walked in there trying to be as confident as possible and I had to swallow down my nervous giggles.
On the wall beside me was an array of plastic penises. I saw strap ons for every size. I even saw this one contraption that you wear on your chin when you're eating a girl out. I stifled laughter as majority of the packages said Adjustable Harness- DONG INCLUDED!
Ha, dong.
I didn't know what size to get. 6" seemed too small and there were no 7" so I settled on 8". I figured bigger is better, right? I purchased a set of a harness with the 8" jelly dong included as well as a seperate harness for Sheri. I love her and all, but sharing one harness? Eww.
We affectionally named it Mr. Purple Penis, Mr. P for short, because well he was...you guessed it. Blue. No, I'm totally kidding. He was purple.
Now the point of the strap on was for me to use on Sheri however with her control issues when we first got him she didn't let me wear him much. I have never been an overly large lover of internal sex as it doesn't really do anything for me. I can only climax from her pressing my magic button and 8" was far too big for me. More often than not we'd get into a position and she'd thrust too deep and I'd wince in pain as it seemed as though the head was hitting the back of my throat. I kept asking to switch and use it on her but I was met with the same resistence as always.
Finally she relented.
It was glorious putting him on for the first time. I stroked him, pretending it was literally an exention of me. When we made love that night it was explosive. I have always enjoyed watching sex in the mirror and loved positions where I could watch it slide in and out of me but being a woman there are very few positions that you can contort yourself into to actually watch. However, being the one in control, seeing the pleasure it gives, watching it move in and out in a rhythmic motion is a completely different experience. Even though I couldn't feel what was going on it was like I could. In my mind I could feel her wrapped around me, pulsating, warm, and eagerly taking me in. When I'm wearing him it's like it's me and it makes me so incredibly turned on.
We didn't use the 8" one for very long. For starters it stank. Secondly it was too big. It hurt both of us and after a few months we were on a quest to find a new one.
One Saturday about two years ago we went to a much nicer sex shop up by her where she had purchased our whip and handcuffs a year or so prior. We bobbed and weaved throughout the stands trying to find the right dong that would fit our needs. For some reason, they don't seem to make 7" ones so we settled on a 6" Purple Swirled Dildo set. I had suggested a pink glittery one but for some reason was shot down.
Oh.my.GAWD.
New levels have been reached with Mr. P(squared). Majority of the time I wear him and when I do it's amazing. I am constantly living out my fantasy of being with a woman and pleasuring her in a way that I've only dreamed of. I love being able to tease her, to start off slow and shallow and work up the speed and the momentum. I often tell her that I think there is nothing sexier than her panting and writhing beneath me. She has this glow about her and I can see how she loves how it feels deep inside of her. And when she gets on top of me to reach her climax I can practically feel her tighten around me as my nails scratch down her back and then we crumple into a quivering, sweaty lump together.
It has taken our sex life to new levels.
And now I need a cold shower.
Sheri and I have started another round of the great debate about what we will write, and who will write it. Do you realize that it's like pulling teeth to get her to write? "But I like reading what you have to write," she'll protest.
We figure we'll give the Lezzie masses something we haven't written about in a while: Sex.
Let's talk about sex baby, let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things....
Oh, sorry. That got away from me for a second.
Let's talk about sex
FOCUS!
Ever since I became sexually active at the proper age of 18 (or 15 depending upon which gender I first had sex with (15-girl; 18; boy)) I started having a plethora of sex dreams. I've always lusted after women, fantasized about them and preferred to watch two women together over a straight couple, and definately over two men (Which I'm sorry, call me a hypocrite but I want to see nothing of two men having sex together. Sheri, on the other hand, LOVES it) but I only dated and slept with men with the occassional dabble in the female gender.
When I was with my boyfriend for 3 years I would often dream of being with a woman. Granted sometimes those dreams, albiet revolving around sex, were not that sexy. Often the women were rank and left me, literally, with a bad taste in my mouth. One reoccuring theme however, was that of penis envy.
I would dream that I was me, a female, but I had a massively long donkey dick. Like a foot long. Many dreams would actually be just me masturbating. I'd be looking down and stroking myself, trying in vain to reach orgasm (which has NEVER happened in my dreams and I often just wake up with my hand down my pants) and it would stir in me the desire to be me, but have a penis.
I don't know if you would classify me as a freak in bed. I don't think I do anything too out of the ordinary. I'm not asking you to dress me up from head to toe in latex and gag me, but I do enjoy some light bondage and a good bite or spanking now and again. Gets my juices flowing, so to speak.
When Sheri and I first started sleeping together it was rather akward. She is not unexperienced in the least but she never had a partner who wanted certain things that I did. And she was the first woman I had slept with in years, and also the first woman that I slept with on a regular basis, so it was a learning curve for both of us. I don't quite recall when or how the conversation arose but we began talking about our likes in the sack. I did mention to her that I like to be handcuffed, blindfolded, and spanked. I also enjoy the dirty talk and for you to call me names.
Basically I like a good fuck.
Sheri had never been recipient to such behavior being the control freak that she is and definately never had to dole it out. So she called one of her good friends in a panic and said "Jen wants me to SPANK her!"
And her friend said, "So spank her. What's the issue?"
Hahaha, I remember the first time she tried. We were in my bedroom, my parents gone for the weekend, and things were moving along nicely and she outstretched her hand and then stopped. She turned beet red and started to giggle nervously. I smirked and encouraged her with my eyes, sticking my bare behind out a little farther and she wound up again. When she "spanked" me it wasn't a firm solid slap, it consisted of numerous quick little taps. I looked up at her, bewildered, and asked "What in the hell was that?!"
We both ended up in a fit of hysterics because she was so nervous that she'd hurt me. "Umm," I stated, "that's kind of the point."
As if that wasn't bad enough, I asked her to choke me. Not to the point of you know, killing me, but just take me by the throat and do me.
Poor woman. She looked like a deer in headlights.
It took a few times for her to feel more comfortable in bed. She gained the confidence to give me a nice firm smack and wrap her hand around my throat. Sometimes however, I do have to remind her to go easy. She'll swing and literally miss on the first attempt and end up smacking my back which just cripples me for a few seconds. Or she won't get a square hit and then repeatedly smack my ass to where I'm trying to roll away from her while howling "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU?! IF YOU MISS DO NOT AIM FOR THE SAME CHEEK! SWITCH SIDES BETWEEN SMACKS!" And she's chasing me going "Come here! I missed! It wasn't a good one!"
We have fun with our sex, if not for nothing else.
Back to the penis envy.
So after we got the handcuff and spanking down I wanted to plant the seed of bringing in some extra....props. I did start to tell Sheri my curiosity at using a strap on. Now I had never used let alone see a dildo before so I didn't know how the mechanics of it would work. Sheri, for nearly two years, was adamant about saying no. "If I wanted a dick I'd sleep with a man," she'd say.
It was all about control. Sheri and I are both control freaks and while I do enjoy to be dominated, I also like to dominate. In order to get Sheri to comply with using a strap on she'd have to relinquish some of that control to me and for the longest time she wouldn't have it.
Until that one magical day. I don't know if it was my incessent prodding (heh) but she said "Ok, we can try it."
I didn't wait for her to change her mind. I immediately went out and began my search for a strap on. I went to this little dirty hole-in-the-wall dive of a sex shop about 20 minutes away from me. It was the seedy type of place where I felt like I needed a trench coat and a hat with some shifty eyes just to drive by it. I walked in there trying to be as confident as possible and I had to swallow down my nervous giggles.
On the wall beside me was an array of plastic penises. I saw strap ons for every size. I even saw this one contraption that you wear on your chin when you're eating a girl out. I stifled laughter as majority of the packages said Adjustable Harness- DONG INCLUDED!
Ha, dong.
I didn't know what size to get. 6" seemed too small and there were no 7" so I settled on 8". I figured bigger is better, right? I purchased a set of a harness with the 8" jelly dong included as well as a seperate harness for Sheri. I love her and all, but sharing one harness? Eww.
We affectionally named it Mr. Purple Penis, Mr. P for short, because well he was...you guessed it. Blue. No, I'm totally kidding. He was purple.
Now the point of the strap on was for me to use on Sheri however with her control issues when we first got him she didn't let me wear him much. I have never been an overly large lover of internal sex as it doesn't really do anything for me. I can only climax from her pressing my magic button and 8" was far too big for me. More often than not we'd get into a position and she'd thrust too deep and I'd wince in pain as it seemed as though the head was hitting the back of my throat. I kept asking to switch and use it on her but I was met with the same resistence as always.
Finally she relented.
It was glorious putting him on for the first time. I stroked him, pretending it was literally an exention of me. When we made love that night it was explosive. I have always enjoyed watching sex in the mirror and loved positions where I could watch it slide in and out of me but being a woman there are very few positions that you can contort yourself into to actually watch. However, being the one in control, seeing the pleasure it gives, watching it move in and out in a rhythmic motion is a completely different experience. Even though I couldn't feel what was going on it was like I could. In my mind I could feel her wrapped around me, pulsating, warm, and eagerly taking me in. When I'm wearing him it's like it's me and it makes me so incredibly turned on.
We didn't use the 8" one for very long. For starters it stank. Secondly it was too big. It hurt both of us and after a few months we were on a quest to find a new one.
One Saturday about two years ago we went to a much nicer sex shop up by her where she had purchased our whip and handcuffs a year or so prior. We bobbed and weaved throughout the stands trying to find the right dong that would fit our needs. For some reason, they don't seem to make 7" ones so we settled on a 6" Purple Swirled Dildo set. I had suggested a pink glittery one but for some reason was shot down.
Oh.my.GAWD.
New levels have been reached with Mr. P(squared). Majority of the time I wear him and when I do it's amazing. I am constantly living out my fantasy of being with a woman and pleasuring her in a way that I've only dreamed of. I love being able to tease her, to start off slow and shallow and work up the speed and the momentum. I often tell her that I think there is nothing sexier than her panting and writhing beneath me. She has this glow about her and I can see how she loves how it feels deep inside of her. And when she gets on top of me to reach her climax I can practically feel her tighten around me as my nails scratch down her back and then we crumple into a quivering, sweaty lump together.
It has taken our sex life to new levels.
And now I need a cold shower.
The Ex
Posted March 2, 2011
Sheri and I are getting back on track with the retelling of our relationship. After Lake George in 2008 for my 25th birthday we kind of lost steam and pretty much forgot about a lot that went on in our relationship. So I have gone back in my blog that I write in on the regular to find inspiration to write. I found an entry that I wrote actually this exact date two years ago about one of Sheri's ex-girlfriends and I thought Hey, why not. I can write about EG (at Sheri's request her name has been changed so EG stands for Ex-Girlfriend)
When Sheri was in her early twenties EG and her worked together much like Sheri and I did. She was the first girl Sheri was ever with and they were together for about two years traveling and being free. Through the course of time they started fighting (over the same.exact.things Sheri and I have fought about) and they broke up. Sheri met and married her husband but she has confessed throughout the course of their entire marriage she never forgot about EG. When the marriage dissolved Sheri searched for EG and found her, 17 years later, and contacted her. Shortly after getting back in contact with EG (who had a steady boyfriend) Sheri met me. She had told me that the point of finding her was in hopes to rekindle their relationship as she never stopped thinking about her and wanted to pick up where they left off. She was a bit disheartened at knowing EG had a boyfriend and seemingly no desire to get back together with Sheri so she said at the very least she'd have her best friend back.
Enter me. I blew that whole idea out of the water even more.
I first met EG in either very late 2007 or early 2008. Her, Sheri, and I had dinner together at our regular restaurant and I know it was cold out because we were all in sweaters. I do have pictures from that night. EG and I actually hit it off really well and I found her to be an ally in that the same issues Sheri and I were having (trust, friends, etc) were the same issues they had 20 years prior. I was hoping that EG could knock some sense into her and that Sheri would see history repeating itself and change.
Anyways EG and I did get along well for the first few meetings. And then something happened. I don't know if she didn't take much stake in our relationship because of the age difference (since Sheri and I are nearly a whole legal person apart) or realized that she still had feelings for Sheri but the dynamic of the dinners shifted.
We would get together with Sheri's friends, The Twins, who worked with Sheri and EG while they were dating yet had and still have no knowledge of the true nature of their relationship so no direct reference could be made. What would normally be a fun and laugh filled evening started to turn tense as EG and I vyed for Sheri's attention.
Sheri would sit in between us, me on her right, EG on her left. After a few months of get togethers EG would randomly say "Hey Sheri, remember when..." and bring up some memory of some trip they took together or some movie they saw together or anything else to bring them back to the time they were dating. But she'd do it in such a sneaky way that only the three of us would know TRULY what she was referring to while The Twins just assumed it was an innocent "Way Back When" memory.
Hey Sheri, remember when we went horseback riding in California?
Hey Sheri, remember when we went to the Bahamas?
Hey Sheri, remember when we would have crazy sex in your bedroom?
Ok, so the last statement didn't happen but her eyes said it all.
Now all I have ever wanted to do is travel with Sheri. I want to GO places with her and experience new things but we don't because Sheri has children now and responsibilities that of course she didn't have in her twenties. I won't even try to sugarcoat it that this has been an issue with us because I'm young still, this is when I should be travelling. And I don't ask for much, a few days once or twice a year to make time for us and to make memories. But she won't leave her kids.
Woah there Jen..that's a whole 'nother entry.
Getting back on track, EG would open up this dialogue to remenisce of their romantic affairs. And Sheri would feed right into it! Oh yeah and remember when... she would respond and then the next 30 minutes was talking all about how much FUN they had when they went away together and they'd laugh and I'd see in Sheri's eyes that far off look that she was being taken back to that time and place.
Which was all EG's plan.
I would sit across from them at the dinner table and I'd watch her look at Sheri. And this wasn't just a friendly look but a "I had you in your best years" look. And after they'd chuckle and sigh after remembering some crazy and free thing that they did she'd quickly look at me smugly as if to say Ha, I got to do all of these things with her and you can't. You may be here now but remember I was here first.
Now you may think that I'm crazy, and that is a distinct possibility, but I noted in my entry on 3/1/09 that Sheri said to me "I finally realize what you're talking about. She does do that every time we get together."
Their friendship had been strained since they got back in touch with one another. And one fateful dinner last year was the breaking point. We were at dinner, Sheri, The Twins, EG and I and this time EG sat between the Twins rather than next to Sheri so she sat directly across from her. She had this attitude going into the night that she was annoyed by something.
I'm sorry to change up the writing style but I only have 10 minutes left for work and my mind went blank and it has taken me nearly an hour to track this entry down! The following is an entry that I wrote January 25, 2010 about that night:
EG was in rare form Friday night. Right after we all sat down at our table she dug the knife into Sheri-saying she didn't appreciate how she found her, that Friend gave her personal confidential information and yada yada yada.
First of all, bwaaaaaahhh? A dinner with friends is not the time nor the place to bring this up. Sheri looked like she was hit by a 2x4 with a nail in it.
Secondly, I think The Twins and I had our asses pucker a little bit at the uncomfortableness that just enveloped the table. So I'm trying to make side conversations and EG's going "No! She told you this and I don't appreciate it and I'm a big miserable bitch" (she didn't say that last part but she might as well have).
Sheri was completely taken aback and asking if this meant she regretted her seeking her out after all those years and EG said, quite unconvincingly "No-but you could have done it a better way"
Strike #1
Meal continues, EG is getting pissier and pissier. She then starts picking apart how faaarrr she has to drive to meet us for dinner. You know cause Sheri and the twins live about 10 minutes from the restaurant and EG has to drive aaalll the way down from work which is 20 minutes and how they never go up by her and the one time she had us over her house Sheri picked it apart and she doesn't want her back there and bitch bitch moan moan.
And I corrected her-that if she wants she can take my drive which is 45 minutes to an hour on a Friday night-so if she doesn't want to drive, SHE can pick the venue and we'd come to her. Well she didn't like that AT all and started yelling across the table at Sheri about how far she has to drive and I had said "well if you were all willing to drive down by me to give me a break you'd be more than welcome but I know you won't."
EG shot me a look that if I were ice I would have melted, put her hand up in front of my face and said in the snottiest tone "EXCUSE ME, BUT I WAS TALKING"
I was so damned shocked I sat there with my mouth open, catching numerous flies, and stole a look at One Twin who gave me the most uneasy look. Now ya'll know me-I'm not a confrontational person. I clam up so damn quick that I can't say anything. She stops her rant and talks to the twins and I lean into Sheri and whisper "did you see what she just did to me?" Captain Oblivious strikes again because no-she did not. She was baffled that EG acted the way she did but she completely missed it. What in the hell was she looking at? The ceiling? How on earth can you miss that! She reached across the damned table. I got up to go to the bathroom, bidding Sheri to follow me. I.was.FUMING. I paced back and forth in front of the sinks babbling every obsenity I've learned in my 26 years and Sheri was trying to calm me down. She was still shaken up from her earlier comment.
Strike #2
Food comes, we eat, we talk, we laugh. Mood seems to lighten. Super Bitch strikes again!. I don't know what on earth she was hooting and hollering about this time. I stopped paying attention to her about half way through the dinner. But she's saying something and it's of no importance really so I turn and whisper something to Sheri and THE CUNT SNAPS AT ME TO PAY ATTENTION. OH! I said "excuse me, do not snap at me, I'm not a dog" and she goes "well I was talking and you weren't listening"
Maybe because you spew bile from that hole in your face.
Strike #3
3 strikes and you're out you whore. I'm shaking just thinking about this again.
Dinner ends, finally, and Sheri and I walk to our cars. We sit in her car for a few minutes afterwards and she looks like she's about to cry. She was so unbelievably hurt at the things EG said and how she acted. EG has never been a friend to Sheri since she came back into her life. She doesn't call her, she never invites her anywhere, the only time Sheri sees EG is at these dinner things which we only do every couple of months. I've said in the past if Sheri never contacted EG then EG would never contact her. I think she's starting to realize this and she's at the place now where if she never hears from EG again she will just go on living her life. I know how hurt she is though because at the very least she wanted her best friend back and what she got was this soulless witch. She kept saying "maybe she saw your ring and got jealous". And it could be that-sure Sheri and EG traveled when they were together but Sheri was never with her like she is with me. And the fact that we've been together 3 years now is probably a thorn in EG's side-yeah she had her first but I've had her longer. I'm not some little fling that fell apart within a matter of months and we don't think EG can handle that.Whatever, her issue, not ours.
When Sheri was in her early twenties EG and her worked together much like Sheri and I did. She was the first girl Sheri was ever with and they were together for about two years traveling and being free. Through the course of time they started fighting (over the same.exact.things Sheri and I have fought about) and they broke up. Sheri met and married her husband but she has confessed throughout the course of their entire marriage she never forgot about EG. When the marriage dissolved Sheri searched for EG and found her, 17 years later, and contacted her. Shortly after getting back in contact with EG (who had a steady boyfriend) Sheri met me. She had told me that the point of finding her was in hopes to rekindle their relationship as she never stopped thinking about her and wanted to pick up where they left off. She was a bit disheartened at knowing EG had a boyfriend and seemingly no desire to get back together with Sheri so she said at the very least she'd have her best friend back.
Enter me. I blew that whole idea out of the water even more.
I first met EG in either very late 2007 or early 2008. Her, Sheri, and I had dinner together at our regular restaurant and I know it was cold out because we were all in sweaters. I do have pictures from that night. EG and I actually hit it off really well and I found her to be an ally in that the same issues Sheri and I were having (trust, friends, etc) were the same issues they had 20 years prior. I was hoping that EG could knock some sense into her and that Sheri would see history repeating itself and change.
Anyways EG and I did get along well for the first few meetings. And then something happened. I don't know if she didn't take much stake in our relationship because of the age difference (since Sheri and I are nearly a whole legal person apart) or realized that she still had feelings for Sheri but the dynamic of the dinners shifted.
We would get together with Sheri's friends, The Twins, who worked with Sheri and EG while they were dating yet had and still have no knowledge of the true nature of their relationship so no direct reference could be made. What would normally be a fun and laugh filled evening started to turn tense as EG and I vyed for Sheri's attention.
Sheri would sit in between us, me on her right, EG on her left. After a few months of get togethers EG would randomly say "Hey Sheri, remember when..." and bring up some memory of some trip they took together or some movie they saw together or anything else to bring them back to the time they were dating. But she'd do it in such a sneaky way that only the three of us would know TRULY what she was referring to while The Twins just assumed it was an innocent "Way Back When" memory.
Hey Sheri, remember when we went horseback riding in California?
Hey Sheri, remember when we went to the Bahamas?
Hey Sheri, remember when we would have crazy sex in your bedroom?
Ok, so the last statement didn't happen but her eyes said it all.
Now all I have ever wanted to do is travel with Sheri. I want to GO places with her and experience new things but we don't because Sheri has children now and responsibilities that of course she didn't have in her twenties. I won't even try to sugarcoat it that this has been an issue with us because I'm young still, this is when I should be travelling. And I don't ask for much, a few days once or twice a year to make time for us and to make memories. But she won't leave her kids.
Woah there Jen..that's a whole 'nother entry.
Getting back on track, EG would open up this dialogue to remenisce of their romantic affairs. And Sheri would feed right into it! Oh yeah and remember when... she would respond and then the next 30 minutes was talking all about how much FUN they had when they went away together and they'd laugh and I'd see in Sheri's eyes that far off look that she was being taken back to that time and place.
Which was all EG's plan.
I would sit across from them at the dinner table and I'd watch her look at Sheri. And this wasn't just a friendly look but a "I had you in your best years" look. And after they'd chuckle and sigh after remembering some crazy and free thing that they did she'd quickly look at me smugly as if to say Ha, I got to do all of these things with her and you can't. You may be here now but remember I was here first.
Now you may think that I'm crazy, and that is a distinct possibility, but I noted in my entry on 3/1/09 that Sheri said to me "I finally realize what you're talking about. She does do that every time we get together."
Their friendship had been strained since they got back in touch with one another. And one fateful dinner last year was the breaking point. We were at dinner, Sheri, The Twins, EG and I and this time EG sat between the Twins rather than next to Sheri so she sat directly across from her. She had this attitude going into the night that she was annoyed by something.
I'm sorry to change up the writing style but I only have 10 minutes left for work and my mind went blank and it has taken me nearly an hour to track this entry down! The following is an entry that I wrote January 25, 2010 about that night:
EG was in rare form Friday night. Right after we all sat down at our table she dug the knife into Sheri-saying she didn't appreciate how she found her, that Friend gave her personal confidential information and yada yada yada.
First of all, bwaaaaaahhh? A dinner with friends is not the time nor the place to bring this up. Sheri looked like she was hit by a 2x4 with a nail in it.
Secondly, I think The Twins and I had our asses pucker a little bit at the uncomfortableness that just enveloped the table. So I'm trying to make side conversations and EG's going "No! She told you this and I don't appreciate it and I'm a big miserable bitch" (she didn't say that last part but she might as well have).
Sheri was completely taken aback and asking if this meant she regretted her seeking her out after all those years and EG said, quite unconvincingly "No-but you could have done it a better way"
Strike #1
Meal continues, EG is getting pissier and pissier. She then starts picking apart how faaarrr she has to drive to meet us for dinner. You know cause Sheri and the twins live about 10 minutes from the restaurant and EG has to drive aaalll the way down from work which is 20 minutes and how they never go up by her and the one time she had us over her house Sheri picked it apart and she doesn't want her back there and bitch bitch moan moan.
And I corrected her-that if she wants she can take my drive which is 45 minutes to an hour on a Friday night-so if she doesn't want to drive, SHE can pick the venue and we'd come to her. Well she didn't like that AT all and started yelling across the table at Sheri about how far she has to drive and I had said "well if you were all willing to drive down by me to give me a break you'd be more than welcome but I know you won't."
EG shot me a look that if I were ice I would have melted, put her hand up in front of my face and said in the snottiest tone "EXCUSE ME, BUT I WAS TALKING"
I was so damned shocked I sat there with my mouth open, catching numerous flies, and stole a look at One Twin who gave me the most uneasy look. Now ya'll know me-I'm not a confrontational person. I clam up so damn quick that I can't say anything. She stops her rant and talks to the twins and I lean into Sheri and whisper "did you see what she just did to me?" Captain Oblivious strikes again because no-she did not. She was baffled that EG acted the way she did but she completely missed it. What in the hell was she looking at? The ceiling? How on earth can you miss that! She reached across the damned table. I got up to go to the bathroom, bidding Sheri to follow me. I.was.FUMING. I paced back and forth in front of the sinks babbling every obsenity I've learned in my 26 years and Sheri was trying to calm me down. She was still shaken up from her earlier comment.
Strike #2
Food comes, we eat, we talk, we laugh. Mood seems to lighten. Super Bitch strikes again!. I don't know what on earth she was hooting and hollering about this time. I stopped paying attention to her about half way through the dinner. But she's saying something and it's of no importance really so I turn and whisper something to Sheri and THE CUNT SNAPS AT ME TO PAY ATTENTION. OH! I said "excuse me, do not snap at me, I'm not a dog" and she goes "well I was talking and you weren't listening"
Maybe because you spew bile from that hole in your face.
Strike #3
3 strikes and you're out you whore. I'm shaking just thinking about this again.
Dinner ends, finally, and Sheri and I walk to our cars. We sit in her car for a few minutes afterwards and she looks like she's about to cry. She was so unbelievably hurt at the things EG said and how she acted. EG has never been a friend to Sheri since she came back into her life. She doesn't call her, she never invites her anywhere, the only time Sheri sees EG is at these dinner things which we only do every couple of months. I've said in the past if Sheri never contacted EG then EG would never contact her. I think she's starting to realize this and she's at the place now where if she never hears from EG again she will just go on living her life. I know how hurt she is though because at the very least she wanted her best friend back and what she got was this soulless witch. She kept saying "maybe she saw your ring and got jealous". And it could be that-sure Sheri and EG traveled when they were together but Sheri was never with her like she is with me. And the fact that we've been together 3 years now is probably a thorn in EG's side-yeah she had her first but I've had her longer. I'm not some little fling that fell apart within a matter of months and we don't think EG can handle that.Whatever, her issue, not ours.
Shennanigans
Posted Feb 23, 2011
Let's go back, back, WAAAAAY BACK to before Sheri and I officially got together. Sometimes Sheri and I like to remenisce about the days of ol' and we always have a good laugh about our drunken escapades during work. So we're going to take a short trip down memory lane and I'll let you know about some of our best drunken moments.
When Sheri and I worked together there was a lot of emotional and sexual tension in the beginning that we quite literally drowned in alcohol. As you already know we'd go to lunch at Uno's for an hour or two at a time and try to drink our feelings numb. But as many of you probably also know and have experienced for yourself...alcohol lowers your inhibitions and you tend to do and say things that you would never DREAM of doing while sober.
Like flashing and/or mooning your boss.
Or throwing dog treats at one another.
Or even "accidently" brushing past one another just to say "Oops, I didn't mean to touch your ass."
In the beginning Sheri thought of any and every excuse to have her hands on me. We would play fight a lot and with her being much taller than me it was always a losing battle. She would stand away from me and I wouldn't be able to reach her but with her long arms she could reach me. She'd have her arm extended and I'd try to dodge her shouting "KEEP THOSE MONKEY ARMS AWAY FROM ME!" and she'd chase me around the store laughing.
There would also be times we'd play fight and she'd trip me or I'd lose my balance and fall. She'd stand over me laughing and I'd sweep my leg and she'd fall right next to me and then we'd be in a crumpled heap on the floor howling with laughter.
Some days after lunch I would be on register with our gay friend Luis. We'd be standing at our respective counters talking to one another and like a sniper Sheri would sneak around the dog toy aisle and grab these canvas or plastic chew toys meant for training police dogs to attack. There were two connected by a braided rope and Sheri would hold the rope and swing them like freakin nun chucks and chase us around the front of the store sometimes weilding them over her head like a Samuri Sword.
Let me tell you, they freakin hurt.
By the registers at PetSmart they always have a container of dog treats. One in particular was this plastic container that held "Barn Burgers" which were treats shaped like a cheeseburger patty. We'd grab handfulls of them and whip them at one another. We'd duck behind displays and run around insanely laughing while Barn Burgers flew threw the air. We were in war and Barn Burgers were our grenades. And again, if you got hit, it freakin hurt!
In the Specialty Department (fish & small animals) there would be a cart that had a spray bottle on it. The spray bottle was used for watering the small plants that came in for Cat Grass and Catnip. One day after lunch I got the brilliant idea and swiped one of the water bottles. I turned the nozzle from mist to stream and when Sheri walked past me I'd aim high up in the air and shoot. Sprinkles of water would fall down and she'd look up and all around her to see where the water came from. I quickly hid the bottle under my register and looked down like I was inspecting my nails. When she turned her back to me I fired again but this time she whipped around so fast that she caught me snickering and gave me the "Oohh, it's AWN!" look.
She walked away from me and I had to ring up a customer. Luis and I were chatting away when I felt on my back an assault of water. I turned, shocked, to see Sheri standing there with a smirk on her face holding a second water bottle. In one fluid motion I reached for mine and started running. The next few minutes consisted of running in and out of aisles, turning and shooting, laughing and screeching. Water was EVERYWHERE. And I thought since I was smaller and athletic that I could outrun her.
I didn't know she used to be in Track & Field in high school. I also didn't take in account that she's tall so she had a gigantic stride and caught up with me easily.
So what did I do?
I ran out of the store into the parking lot laughing like a Hyena. I thought for sure I'd lose her but when I turned and glanced over my shoulder she was right on my heels weilding the spray bottle. We chased one another around the parking lot, bobbing and weaving through cars. I was running out of breath and I felt my chest start to tighten as it was begging for oxygen. I stopped and put my hand up in defeat as she ran up to me and squirted my green shirt wet. We called a truce as I gasped to catch my breath and we walked shoulder to shoulder back into the store, red faced and sweaty.
There was another day after an alcohol filled lunch that we had gone our seperate ways, me with a lot of work to do. (Sheri, stop laughing!) I was in charge of fixing all the plannograms (displays) in the store and they were organized by four feet sections. I was in the hamster aisle busy trying to figure out which treats hung where based upon the diagram when I heard a giggle come from behind me. I cautiously turned and Sheri was standing over me with a grin like a cheshire cat and cheeks flushed from the Vodka. I stood up and I couldn't even open my mouth to ask her what she was doing. In one fluid motion she had her left hand pinning me against the shelves. I was so tipsy that it took my brain a few seconds to register what she was doing. With an evil grin on her face I saw a Black Sharpie marker in her right hand start coming for my face.
Nooooo. I thought to myself. The cap has to be on. She wouldn't....
And that's when I smelled the unique scent of a permenant marker. My eyes grew wide as my brain finally registered that she was, in fact, drawing a mustache on my face.
And I had to go to class later that night.
I pushed her back and ducked under a sweeping arm that was reaching out to grab me again. With my hand over my face I raced to the other side of the store towards the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and when I looked in the mirror my face was full of horror.
She had one half of a curly-q mustache drawn on my face. I heard her jiggle the door handle while laughing to let her in.
I.was.LIVID. Words can't even begin to DESCRIBE how mad I was. While she was bellowing with laughter outside I wet a paper towel and started scrubbing my face. With a sigh of relief I saw that the marker was coming off and after about a minute the only sign that she had drawn on my face was a slightly red upper lip.
She was knocking at the door saying "Cooomme ooonnn! Let me iiiiinnn!!"
For some reason there was a broomstick handle behind the door in the bathroom. I was so mad that I picked it up and wailed it against the door and screamed "I WILL FUCKING BEAT THE EVER LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU IF YOU COME ANYWHERE NEAR ME! I SWEAR TO GOD SHERI I HAVE CLASS TONIGHT! YOU'RE FUCKING LUCKY THIS CAME OFF!"
Drunky McDrunk was still laughing "Ohh pleease! It was fuuuunnnnyyyy! Come on let me finish the other side!!!"
Oh I was about to cry I was so mad. I was shaking like a leaf and had to compose myself for a few minutes before walking out of the bathroom. "If you're out there when I open this door," I warned, "you will be VERY sorry.
When I walked past her I shot her daggers and the only thing she could do was attempt, poorly I might add, to stifle her laughter.
It wasn't so funny then, but it's really funny now. We often retell the story to our friends and she still says "If only you let me finish it!"
I have yet to get her back for that. What is it that you say dear? Payback's a bitch? :)
When Sheri and I worked together there was a lot of emotional and sexual tension in the beginning that we quite literally drowned in alcohol. As you already know we'd go to lunch at Uno's for an hour or two at a time and try to drink our feelings numb. But as many of you probably also know and have experienced for yourself...alcohol lowers your inhibitions and you tend to do and say things that you would never DREAM of doing while sober.
Like flashing and/or mooning your boss.
Or throwing dog treats at one another.
Or even "accidently" brushing past one another just to say "Oops, I didn't mean to touch your ass."
In the beginning Sheri thought of any and every excuse to have her hands on me. We would play fight a lot and with her being much taller than me it was always a losing battle. She would stand away from me and I wouldn't be able to reach her but with her long arms she could reach me. She'd have her arm extended and I'd try to dodge her shouting "KEEP THOSE MONKEY ARMS AWAY FROM ME!" and she'd chase me around the store laughing.
There would also be times we'd play fight and she'd trip me or I'd lose my balance and fall. She'd stand over me laughing and I'd sweep my leg and she'd fall right next to me and then we'd be in a crumpled heap on the floor howling with laughter.
Some days after lunch I would be on register with our gay friend Luis. We'd be standing at our respective counters talking to one another and like a sniper Sheri would sneak around the dog toy aisle and grab these canvas or plastic chew toys meant for training police dogs to attack. There were two connected by a braided rope and Sheri would hold the rope and swing them like freakin nun chucks and chase us around the front of the store sometimes weilding them over her head like a Samuri Sword.
Let me tell you, they freakin hurt.
By the registers at PetSmart they always have a container of dog treats. One in particular was this plastic container that held "Barn Burgers" which were treats shaped like a cheeseburger patty. We'd grab handfulls of them and whip them at one another. We'd duck behind displays and run around insanely laughing while Barn Burgers flew threw the air. We were in war and Barn Burgers were our grenades. And again, if you got hit, it freakin hurt!
In the Specialty Department (fish & small animals) there would be a cart that had a spray bottle on it. The spray bottle was used for watering the small plants that came in for Cat Grass and Catnip. One day after lunch I got the brilliant idea and swiped one of the water bottles. I turned the nozzle from mist to stream and when Sheri walked past me I'd aim high up in the air and shoot. Sprinkles of water would fall down and she'd look up and all around her to see where the water came from. I quickly hid the bottle under my register and looked down like I was inspecting my nails. When she turned her back to me I fired again but this time she whipped around so fast that she caught me snickering and gave me the "Oohh, it's AWN!" look.
She walked away from me and I had to ring up a customer. Luis and I were chatting away when I felt on my back an assault of water. I turned, shocked, to see Sheri standing there with a smirk on her face holding a second water bottle. In one fluid motion I reached for mine and started running. The next few minutes consisted of running in and out of aisles, turning and shooting, laughing and screeching. Water was EVERYWHERE. And I thought since I was smaller and athletic that I could outrun her.
I didn't know she used to be in Track & Field in high school. I also didn't take in account that she's tall so she had a gigantic stride and caught up with me easily.
So what did I do?
I ran out of the store into the parking lot laughing like a Hyena. I thought for sure I'd lose her but when I turned and glanced over my shoulder she was right on my heels weilding the spray bottle. We chased one another around the parking lot, bobbing and weaving through cars. I was running out of breath and I felt my chest start to tighten as it was begging for oxygen. I stopped and put my hand up in defeat as she ran up to me and squirted my green shirt wet. We called a truce as I gasped to catch my breath and we walked shoulder to shoulder back into the store, red faced and sweaty.
There was another day after an alcohol filled lunch that we had gone our seperate ways, me with a lot of work to do. (Sheri, stop laughing!) I was in charge of fixing all the plannograms (displays) in the store and they were organized by four feet sections. I was in the hamster aisle busy trying to figure out which treats hung where based upon the diagram when I heard a giggle come from behind me. I cautiously turned and Sheri was standing over me with a grin like a cheshire cat and cheeks flushed from the Vodka. I stood up and I couldn't even open my mouth to ask her what she was doing. In one fluid motion she had her left hand pinning me against the shelves. I was so tipsy that it took my brain a few seconds to register what she was doing. With an evil grin on her face I saw a Black Sharpie marker in her right hand start coming for my face.
Nooooo. I thought to myself. The cap has to be on. She wouldn't....
And that's when I smelled the unique scent of a permenant marker. My eyes grew wide as my brain finally registered that she was, in fact, drawing a mustache on my face.
And I had to go to class later that night.
I pushed her back and ducked under a sweeping arm that was reaching out to grab me again. With my hand over my face I raced to the other side of the store towards the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and when I looked in the mirror my face was full of horror.
She had one half of a curly-q mustache drawn on my face. I heard her jiggle the door handle while laughing to let her in.
I.was.LIVID. Words can't even begin to DESCRIBE how mad I was. While she was bellowing with laughter outside I wet a paper towel and started scrubbing my face. With a sigh of relief I saw that the marker was coming off and after about a minute the only sign that she had drawn on my face was a slightly red upper lip.
She was knocking at the door saying "Cooomme ooonnn! Let me iiiiinnn!!"
For some reason there was a broomstick handle behind the door in the bathroom. I was so mad that I picked it up and wailed it against the door and screamed "I WILL FUCKING BEAT THE EVER LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU IF YOU COME ANYWHERE NEAR ME! I SWEAR TO GOD SHERI I HAVE CLASS TONIGHT! YOU'RE FUCKING LUCKY THIS CAME OFF!"
Drunky McDrunk was still laughing "Ohh pleease! It was fuuuunnnnyyyy! Come on let me finish the other side!!!"
Oh I was about to cry I was so mad. I was shaking like a leaf and had to compose myself for a few minutes before walking out of the bathroom. "If you're out there when I open this door," I warned, "you will be VERY sorry.
When I walked past her I shot her daggers and the only thing she could do was attempt, poorly I might add, to stifle her laughter.
It wasn't so funny then, but it's really funny now. We often retell the story to our friends and she still says "If only you let me finish it!"
I have yet to get her back for that. What is it that you say dear? Payback's a bitch? :)
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