The Faux wine snob needs a cork in his …

Sex Kitten is still courting The Storyteller like he’s a babe in a stroller. I’m having a hard time getting over the fact that I was having sex with my first boyfriend and he was in diapers – it’s creepy.  I made dinner for the three of us and proceeded to down a bottle of Ménage à Trois at the dinner table. Fucking irony in a bottle!

One of my pet peeves is “faux snobs” that think they know everything about quality wines and beers and yet they pour themselves a Bud Light or a Sutter Home White Zinfandel. Classy, real classy. Does your mobile home have “rims” buddy? And he was desperately trying to convince me that Guinness is a great beer … after I already agreed on that fact. He must be Sherlock Fucking Holmes.

One of the first things in the dinner conversation was The Storyteller‘s previous endeavors as a “stripper”. I almost spit my wine out of my nose. He’s the furthest thing I’ve seen from stripper material I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. Do they work for pennies here? Half pennies? He did mention he hated tomatoes … now I know why. I would be throwing them at him for sure.

After that crazy dinner I lamented the fact that I have 4 married men that would fuck me, but yet no real promising single men waiting in the shadows. It’s getting a bit frustrating now. I desperately logged into my online dating accounts and returned some messages tonight. I guess I’ll see where that goes – they are all normal looking Americans.

~Globe Trotter in Lingerie

p.s. I forgot to give Sex Kitten the Bad Decision Tiara (BDT) back … she’s surely earned it on this one. Interesting that she can’t come up with a blog post but yet I’ve never heard a kind word spoken about him. Hmmmm?


Friends with benefits, so sooooooo many benefits

Hate me all you want for not writing for so long if you must; but if you want a real reason to hate me, read on.

It took a while after my divorce was over for me to get back into the swing of things, at least in the bedroom.  After over 9 years “off the market” the idea of finding someone who seemed worthy of a romp, much less getting naked with someone I don’t know very well … yeah … horrifying at best.

If you have to ease your way back into bed with someone, I always never recommend doing it with someone who you consider to be one of your best friends.  I also rarely take my own advice so guess what?  Who would’ve known that a man I have come to adore for who he is and how he makes me laugh and smile, who is 8 years my senior, and totally not my normal type … would be a rockstar in bed like I can not even express.

I’ll admit that sparks had been flying for some time.  Our version of fun together is breaking into abandoned, partially destroyed, and wildly unsafe buildings … to take pictures.  That’s smart … and a nice way to get the adrenaline juices flowing freely.  It didn’t take long for the innuendos to start flying between us, thick enough to cut with a knife.  Everyone who spent time with us asked if we were together, some even made comments about us needing to be separated via means such as fabric softener or pry bar.

But leave it to me to spin off a fantasy sexual relationship with a man who has a girlfriend.  So I did my best to behave—I suck at that.  After a few clearly intentional touches  from him on a very early, very cold, very abandoned Sunday morning, I made up my mind that at some point I would make that epic first post-divorce move and plant one on this guy.  I mean seriously, what did I have to lose?  A few days passed and he came for dinner.  We hung out for a while and in a random moment of silently looking at each other (and with the encouragement of half a bottle of Jim Beam) I literally announced “Fuck it!” out loud and then lunged across the room at him.

As if the fact that I had strong feelings for this guy wasn’t enough to complicate my barely post-divorce mind, he surprisingly not only accepted my advance but dove in head first.  Clothes flying in all directions, limbs tangled up, tongues and hands and lips running over skin like months worth of sexual tension had just broke.

I shit you not—THREE hours later—he was still going.  I on the other hand, was used to a “15 minute fuck and roll over” with my ex—I was a twisted combination of exhausted and so hooked it wasn’t even funny.

*NOTE TO WOMEN*  If you aren’t gonna give your man what he wants, the way he wants it, and make him squirm, moan and say “holy fuck” when he’s done, someone else will.  Apparently, I’m that someone.  Yeah I’m a dirty whore.  Guess what? I’m okay with it.

So its been just about a month and a half since my 3-hour-romp with an older man (who I adore) that has a 7-year-long relationship with a girlfriend who has NO idea there’s something going on.  I have a God given talent to ignore my conscious and a incredibly threadbare moral fiber which has allowed me to continue taking this guy into my bed for hours on end, sometimes 3 times a day.  It’s worth every second of it.  Gotta keep my heart and head in check, but that is a story (and a guy) for another day.

~Not Yer Bitch (but on occasion I’ll be his!)

I’m a dirty girl now

A handful of my girlfriends invited me to a Chippendales show at a local bar. Of course I’m accepting that invite! Bonus is that none of them are prudish types and generally can keep their mouth shut about a crazy night out.

It was a really impressive show of six tight, tanned, hard-bodies that any woman could enjoy and well worth the small cover charge. They each had their own themed routine and style but one really stood out from the rest for me — A super hot, clean-cut guy wearing a sexy cowboy hat. He could move his hips and shake his ass like no other. This man was all pro and did it with a smile. that made me melt.

My girlfriends chipped in and bought me the VIP dance at the end of the night. With Enrique Iglesias’ Tonight I’m Fuckin’ You blaring out the front of the stage I knew I wanted HIM to dance for me. My motivation was clear to him and I got a few other lap dances but he awarded me THREE! Those were some well-earned dollars I shoved down his crotch.

He came out to the bar after the show to talk to me … shirtless. He’s very sweet and left me with a hug and a kiss. He was so fucking beautiful! Somehow he randomly tempted me a bit later to follow him around the back of the building in the dark. We started kissing and his hand was down my pants in an instant – I could not keep my hands off him.

One thing led to another and we ended up in the wooded area behind the bar – in total darkness. I shit you not, my jeans and panties hit the ground in less than a second. He never struggled with the zipper or anything – he was clearly and expert – and very good with his hands. I grabbed a tree and we fucked doggie style. It was some seriously hot sex for a totally random sexual encounter. Too bad he was being beckoned from the parking lot by his coworkers – I could have done that all night long!

So here I am killing two birds with one stone … it’s my first one-night stand and I can check off fucking a Chippendale dancer off my sexual bucket list. I love this life.

I’m officially awarding myself the Bad Decision Tiara for this one but refuse to regret something that damn fun! I don’t know what this does to the whole dating game for me … that’s probably pretty intimidating for any future lovers to find out about. How do I say “Oh yeah I fucked a really hot stripper and don’t know a thing about him”. So what happened in that woods, stays in the woods.

~Globe Trotter in Lingerie

The Bad Decision Tiara

Globe Trotter in Lingerie introduced me to the concept of The Bad Decision Tiara, which is exactly what it sounds like: a crown you are awarded to wear when you show exceptionally bad judgment. We actually have a real glittery silver tiara that we pass amongst our friends. I had the honor after last weekend, then our friend Fun Size earned it for doing Perfect Pussy shots then making out on a first date with an almost certain ONE DATE WONDER who is now texting her 20 times a day. Then GTiL earned it back last night, but I’ll let her decide if you get to hear about that one. Our tiara is very well traveled and well worn….

The aftermath of my BDT weekend, which will no doubt have an entry to itself, is that I woke up yesterday extremely happy to see that I’ve started my period. Yup, there are some months when that little bloodstain looks REALLY good. I’m cranky, hungry, achy, and short-tempered, but at least I’m not pregnant.

~ Sex Kitten (with claws)