Still Hearting Howard

Had another massage from Howard. Ahhhhhh.

The funny part was just prior to the massage when I was in the bathroom getting changed. Another woman was in there, with her friend, and they both had just received massages. One woman was raving to the other about the masterful fingers of the young man who has just rubbed her.

I looked at her and said "You must be talking about Howard." She replied "Ohhhh, yes!"

I then triumpiantly said to her, "I had him two weeks ago. And I have another appointment with him in 5 minutes!"

The woman looked at me like I had just stolen her date for the Prom. It was awesome!

I relayed all of this to Howard, and added "It was like two high school girls having a near verbal catfight over you, hee hee!" I know he got a kick out of this tale :o)

The massage was divine. He even rubbed my, um, well, bum. I love a good bum rub. Mmmmmm. He even tucked the sheet into the tops of my low-slung panties when he was working his way down my back. If he hadn't been 23, and if it hadn't been a professional setting, I might have moaned "take me now, boy!" LMAO!!!!!!!!!!!

I am such a sucker for a good massage, and the bum rub is just the icing on the cake.

If I was ever taken as a P.O.W. my captors wouldn't have to torture me. I would sing like a canary if they gave me a massage and plied me with good wine ;o)

Jesse, Jesse, Jesse

We haven't had a good ol' Jesse story in a while. Which is why I was delighted when I woke up this morning and found he had sent us ("FireCracker"/me, his sister-in-law "ManHands"/Adrian, and "Chrissie"/Kirsten) this lil' gem late last night.

I love Jesse. It's like glimpsing in upon my Dad, 20 years ago. He's such a cad, ya can't help but loving him. He makes me wish I could be a guy once in a while, just to pull off such wickedly masterful sexual chess moves. Well played, Jesse, as always! We bow in your princely presence ;o)

Without further ado, Jesse, in his own words . . . .

***************

I am getting old.

Well...okay one story...

This week ... Monday... well ... you may recall I told you about a girl named Morgan. I wrote you about a time maybe 6 months ago, when she invited me over to her place where she lived with her boyfriend. For a BBQ. She is HOT girl from Indiana. 25 years old, free spirit. etc. Looks like the girl next door... well ... really she looks like the girl that was in the Eastwood movie about the boxer. Hillary Swank I think. Yes. Exactly like her but dark hair.

I was so happy to go because she has a handful of hot 20-something friends.

Well, I did not score any friends. But I kept friends with her, knowing full well her Indiana boyfirend was nice, but wasn't gonna be able to hold up against the guys like me out here for long. She is just too hot and friendly. A nightmare to have for a girlfriend for sure, flirtatious, drinks a lot, sexual ... bad news for any boyfriend.

Sure enough, they break up a month or so ago. She calls for help getting her stuff back, I arrange it, I don't call her afterwards.

She texts, "We should get a beer", we do. I'm cool, no hitting on her at all, just gettin her drunk and making her laugh. (I am buying drinks). I take her home, I am cool ... she sits next to me ... we make out, she is saying stuff like, 'This isn't gonna make it weird if I'm out with other guys, etc. I mean, you gotta promise me to be cool" etc. I'm like, "yeah don't be calling me all the time and shit" I pull part one of the move of all time. Sensing she is worried about my age and if I'm gonna get too attached and she doesn't want to go all the way yet, I mean she does, I know, but she doesn't want to be too slutty. So ... I just leave. I say hey thanks so much for spending your time with me, I gotta go, hope I see you soon.

She thinks I'm 35. So got that lie workin, But I think lying about your age is okay.

The following week. I do not call her, but then I have cause to go to a place where her hot friend Brittney works. I talk business with Brittney (both these girls are really cool and smart actually). Brit is not as hot as Morgan. But hot.

Part two of the move: I text Morgan, that " I just did some work with Brittney, she is pretty hot. Sneaky hot. Didn't realize it at first." She texts back "yeah, I know".

I don't let go because I'mplaying with her insecurities now ... text back: "Her heat is not right away like yours, You were hot when I first saw you she is a later hot". I know she talks to Brittney every ten minutes.

The next day she texts that I should get sushi with her that night. I say no. but I'd do beers after, and I'll call her at 8.

I text. she is done eating, went home, I text ... do you want to get a beer?

And I wait. I know that if she wants to see me right now ... it's on. If she says no ... it will never happen but it will happen with Brittney.

She says ok. I go to get condoms.

I pick her up, take her to the local bar. get her drunk as hell. take her home, we go in and her shirt is off in about 4 minutes (bra I removed in one minute). She says "you gotta promise me it's not gonna get weird with you, guys change" -- she meant like I'd want to be her boyfriend. I laughed. "No worries there beauty".

Got her naked and she went WILD. Crazy good sex. Great ... But I am old, and after once I was done and wanting to go (still had my undershirt, and socks on) . I put on drawers and one leg of jeans and she is curling up in my lap all naked with the "doon't goooo ... I want you to stayyy"... " Gotta go, sorry, had enough beer to snore all night and you won't sleep anyway" "So its just fuck me and leave" ..."well....yeah, but no reflection on you, you know I'm busy and I got shit I gotta do".

So I just left her ass. Wednesday, my buddy I own horses with had a food/wine pairing thing at his resteraunt, I failed to get Kia to come, so then, I hit Morgan last minute ... (one hour prior) ... she says I'll be ready in 15 minutes ... We did have a Blast.

Life is pretty good.

Liz wants me over at her sister's party tonight, but I'm kinda poor, and tired, so I'm going to bed. And dream about Britney. or Kia, but not Morgan ... If I do that I'll lose my edge.

Please forward this to Doc J.

I Heart Being Touched

Last Saturday I had a divine massage from that young buck, Howard.

This week I had another one, by another young guy, named Jamie. I was the recipient of Jamie's magic touch at a chic spa in my city.

Normally I would not indulge in a masage at someplace so upscale, of course. But this was a gift, courtesy of a friend who is very dear to me. It was given to me, no strings attached, on a day when I was at a very low moment (really, the lowness factor was bottoming out). I was so surprised when I received the gift card for it (okay, blown away is more like it). And even more touched by the thoughtfulness. I was, like, speechless (which, if you know me, is kind of an impossible situation to imagine -- but trust me, I was). I will never forget that moment . . . like someone had tossed me a life preserver as I was drowning, and said "hey, I see you out there in the ocean, hold on!"

Yesterday afternoon, in between attending the a.m. & p.m. church services with my brother for his RCIA process into the Catholic Church (I am his Sponsor), I hustled to have my much anticipated massage. Jamie was young, sweet, and specialized in deep tissue massage. Perfect. He even turned on the steam machine and aimed it towards my back as he worked on other parts of my body -- the warm, moist heat felt amazing (oh crap, this sounds like total porn right now, LOL). After he was done kneading my legs he took a large, hot, wet washcloth and pressed it into my back, while applying firm pressure onto the knots he found. I would have groaned out loud (in pleasure) if I weren't afraid of being judged a perv, hee hee!

I was so relaxed by the end of the hour I wished I had the money to book the room for the rest of the afternoon, just to nap. It would have been divine if I could have just layed there for a while longer, all Zen-ed out, and slipped off into DreamLand. My body felt like it was in a mediatative trance. I hated to leave this "Den of Zen," but finally mustered up the energy to get dressed (boo!) and go home. The good feeling lasted though, and I managed to sleep better last night than I have in weeks.

If only I could somehow end every day with a massage . . . . Mmmmmm!

I Heart Howard

There's a new man in my life. His name is "Howard," and I heart him (ya know, like one of those t-shirts with the big red heart instead of the word "love"?!)

Let me explain.

About two weeks ago I saw an ad in a local community magazine advertising that a local technical school was offering massages, performed by their massage students-in-training, at a discounted rate. Well, I know how useful an experience this is for the students, as Dr. J's school had a student-clinic (under the watchful supervision of the professor-doctors), and the students get sooooo much out of it. Add into this that the massages were being offered at a steeply discounted rate and I was jazzed about the opportunity!

And yesterday was my appointment. I was assigned to Howard. He was about 23 years old, dark curly hair, warm personality, cute, and . . . had . . . great . . . hands. Ahhhhhhhhh! Seriously, in a non-sexual way, he made me a VERY happy woman!

When I got in the car to drive home I checked out my face in the mirror, and DAMN, if I didn't have thee most sated, fulfilled, blissful expression on it ;o)

Immediately afterwards, I booked another appointment with Howard for two weeks from now.

I HEART HOWARD!!!!!!!!!!!

Horoscope

Okay so I am not obsessed with astrology or anything like that. But I do find it fun and entertaining from time to time. And occasionally it is RIGHT on the mark. In general, I find it spooky how much I match up with the typical Scorpio traits.

This morning I logged into my Yahoo account and took the time to read today's daily forecast. In light of multiple issues I am dealing with in my personal life, I was kinda blown away by what my horoscope said:

Your practical side has had too much control over your decision making

lately, and it's time for you to stop deliberating every single decision in such

an analytic way. Life requires some leaps of faith, some risk-taking, and a

little bit of luck if it's going to stay interesting. Try let go. Try not to control

every single element of your day today. Let other people make some decisions,

and trust that everything will still be okay -- because it will. You're taking on

too much responsibility. It's time to step back.

Whoa. ME, give up control?! Okay, cosmic forces, I will make you a deal . . . I will give up control, in you will give me certainty -- cause right now the suspense of not knowing how things will turn out, and what path we should walk, is killing me.

Monday Musings

Several little items I want to comment on . . . .

First, I am pleased to report that I spent an hour on the treadmill this evening and NO panic attack, yeah!!!!!!!! Still am on the lookout for more symptoms, and wouldn't be surprised if another occurs, but I am glad that I was able to exercise again, free of this problem :o)

Second, damn you Victoria's Secret! MUST you insist on torturing me with your pretty little things?! The latest commercial for the BioFit Bra had me hauling to the mall in the midst of Saturday's snowstorm. I just had to try it on. A very good quality, smartly designed, everyday bra. Well done! I didn't buy it, and was okay with not having the funds to do so. Much more difficult to resist were several new panties I saw hanging up . . . (sniff, sniff, pout, LOTS of pouting) . . . they're just sooooo cute and make me feel like a princess in them! It got so bad I had to text the BFF (Ms. Lori) and complain about how unfair life is. She agreed, of course, but reminded me that I must not give in. (Pouting again!)

Third, went to church on Sunday with my little brother, as his Sponsor for RCIA (he is converting to Catholicism). My Dad showed up, which surprised me (figured he'd be working or sleeping). It was nice to spend time with both of them. My brother is taking this waaaaaaay seriously, so much that it is kinda creeping the family out. I shall write about this in a future posting -- the "Spreadsheet of Sin" is worth a few giggles, I assure you ;o)

Okay, time to pack it in and go nite-nite.

Panic

It kinda crept up on me.

I was at the gym, getting in my usual Friday post-workday exercise on the treadmill. I normally do about an hour of cardio. About 15 minutes into it, I suddenly noticed that I was breathing really hard. I was surprised, since it was still early in the workout.

I looked down at the control panel and saw that I wasn't working out hard at all, I was actually taking it easy. But by this point I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest! WTF?! Then I recognized what was happening to me . . . I . . . was . . . having . . . a . . . PANIC ATTACK.

OMG.

When is the last time I had one of these?! Maybe a decade ago, while studying for some exam in college or grad school?! My pulse was racing, it hurt to take a deep breath, and I could feel the beginnings of hyper-ventilation.

I then started to piece together all the things that had happened that day which had lead to this moment. I had managed to keep a positive attitude throughout all of the things that had brought me down during the workday, as well as post-workday. I had acknowledged the things that had bothered me, annoyed me, upset me, even hurt me. I then in turn had shrugged off all of these, and dismissed them, if you will. Still, my body wasn't done dealing with it. Cue the panic attack!

I slowed down the treadmill even more, until it was at a snail's pace. I tried to outlast the panic attack. But once the counter on the treadmill hit 30 minutes (and the symptoms had been around a good 7 minutes at this point), I decided to retreat to the locker room for some more pronounced deep, slow breaths. I called Dr. J, who of course wanted to come pick me up at the gym and drive me home (we only live 1.5 miles away). No matter how sweet his offer was, and how genuine the concern in his voice, I knew I had to be a Big Girl and get myself home.

And I did. My chest was still hurting, but not as bad. I tried my best to rationalize what had lead up to the panic attack, which made me remember other irritations during the work day that I hadn't even considered up until that moment. GEEZ, it was NO WONDER why my psyche had suddenly crashed!

A hot shower (and a few more tears) helped relieve 80% of the panic attack. As anyone who had ever had a panic attack knows, the symptoms completely alleviate at their own friggin' speed. You can't wish them away once it starts . . . like a large farm animal in the middle of a country road, they move along when THEY want to, not at your command (grrrrr!)

Moo.

Apple Bottom Booty?

We have a rather sassy receptionist at my office. She is in her early 60's (looks mid-40's), black, and a bit of a smart ass.

She and I both are fans of the Steve Harvey morning show (radio), and enjoy hip hop music.

For some reason (I don't know why), we were discussing the song "Lo" this afternoon. Most people know "Lo" by it's tag line of "Shawty had those Apple Bottom Jeans . . . . " It's a fun, catchy tune.

The receptionist has long bemoaned that she has a flat behind (puh-lease, I know plenty of women who'd love to trade). Well, in light of this song, out of nowhere she says to me "You have a sistah's bum. I have a white woman's bum." I cracked up.

She's right, though.

I told her this must be why black men love me (and I appreciate their appreciation, hee hee).

Testosterone Weekend -- the journey continues

We saw "Vantage Point" last night at the movies. It . . . was . . . freakin' . . . AWESOME! Totally our kind of movie, and fit nicely into this weekend's entertainment theme. I can't wait to tell my Dad about this one. He'd love it, too. Dr. J and I enjoyed how they kept re-telling the same 25 minute time frame in which the plot occurs, over and over, from the perspective of different characters. Each added a different piece to the puzzle, which culminated nicely into some "ah ha!" moments.

I'd give it a B+/A- rating.

Afterwards, we came home and watched MORE "24". Hee-hee!

Testosterone Weekend

My plan was to have a nice looooong workout at the gym last night, but the roads were pretty bad (snow would not stop) and since our town does not seem to ever bring out the plow or salt, I was concerned that if I stopped at the gym first, the side streets to our house would be impassable. Hence, I just went home (sliding along the way, thank you very much).


Dr. J and I are in "Cocoon Phase," as my beloved cousin Sandi calls it -- meaning we are kinda shutting ourselves off to outside influences, and trying to just be close to one another, and put our collective couplehood back on track.


Since his last two patients cancelled (snow fears), I told Dr. J to stop at the video store on the way home and pick up some stuff for us to watch. He brought home a couple DVD's with "24" episodes we have missed (we have been meaning to catch up before the new season starts).

So we happily settled in with Jack Bauer last night. There's nothing that we love more than t.v. or movies that have the government/military/terrorist-hunting/ass-kicking theme to it! And Jack Bauer is quite the bad ass. Of course, we also worship the characters Jason Bourne (movies) and Mitch Rapp (fiction by Vince Flynn), too. Sometimes we speculate WHO would prevail amongst these three manly men, depending upon the type of mission.



Last night we watched 2 hours of Jack Bauer. We have 6 more hours left, I think (and then more DVD's to rent to keep catching up). And tonight we are going to see "Vantage Point," a movie we have been looking forward to. We also have free movie passes, courtesy of a Christmas gift card from my mom.

LET THE ASS-KICKING COMMENCE!!!!!!!!