Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Dining Outcall

"Thank you. I do feel relaxed." Giggle.

"You're welcome. I know you needed that."

"Why do you care if I have an orgasm?"

"Do so few men care?"

"No, they don't."

"That's so sad. They have no idea what they're missing."

"But why do you care about me?"

Long delay...

"Because I do care about you, long term. You're very stressed out, and I can help. As a friend. I learned that in my marriage, I appreciate all you've done for me, and to me haha, and I want to return the favors."

Smile! "We can work on that... babysteps...."

Friday, September 26, 2014

He Knows...

Oh shit. He says he wants to kick my ass. BF. Take a number.

Miss Lovely.

Our rekindled affair is now public knowledge.

A mutual naked married friend got all liquored and doped up, spilled her guts, invented hateful pain as is her custom. She was supposed to stay clean. She failed. Will I ever speak to her again? Nobody can hurt you more than a friend.

Apparently she and her hubby were knocking on the door of a narc cop, trying to buy drugs. They were out of their minds. 60 roxys in 2 days. I wish ML would stay away from them. I do.

My married friend says she wants to suck my dick. Who knows.... We shall see. She gets naked for me, with hubby in the next room, trying on her itty bitty bikinis, over and over. We kissed and made out on the bed, with hubby in the next room. She says she loves me. Then has amnesia LOL.

She said ML and I would never fuck again. For some reason, our close friendship makes her VERY jealous.... She's seen my dick in porn vids. She has lesbian tendencies towards ML. Her daddy the jet pilot divorced her mom over a younger woman.

Our 3somes, ML and me. Now public knowledge. Very public....

Awesome! Not the public part.

My first threeway with professional friends.

No games, no fucking around, just fucking.

Good fucking, and sucking.

Serious fucking.

Happy fucking.

No flaking.

ML's inner lesbian cums out to play. She loves it! She needed it...

No tears (that came later!), though ML did nearly rip my dick off. That was new. Jealous much? I love that in a woman. She feels. She cares. She denies. They wanna lick my cum.

How many affairs ML has with other dates is still up for debate. I know of 4, all for money. Now 5, according to eyewitness Tracy, admitted sheepishly by ML, met him at work -- the job I got her, before she fucked me again. Or rapes. She' s retired, she insists to BF, me and her XFBs beggin to fuck her. But financial stress from BF not working, paying it all to child support when he does work. Her being fired from a job for leaving early to fuck me, she said. Or was she fired the day before? That was our first pay to play date in 10 months. I was happy, but feared her addiction. I missed fuckin her for free, as friends, clean and sober, she gets so much more turned on that way. "Take me, I'm yours," for a lil while....

ML's obsessed with me, I like that in a woman. PUA Tech works wonders. She came over, unannounced, without invitation, she had my key, she let herself in, she was waiting for me. I was living with Tracy, or rather Tracy the psychotic homeless junkie streetwalker moved in with me. A Perfect 10. Nicest person I ever met. Except for fucking a customer in my bed so hard she ripped my mattress cover, without my permission or knowledge. Tracy's addiction owns her soul. She licked ML's pussy in a double, many times, before I met them. 23 to ML's 21. Hotness. Jealousy. Greed. Pain. Tears. Jails. Tracy walked in on our double fun.... It rocked her world. "I never get jealous!" she and all these girls claim. That night Tracy hit me in the head with a head of lettuce, from across the room, perfect aim. I was cooking her steak dinner. I earned it. LMFAO

ML lies so much lately, to me, to her married BF/roommate, to her former FBWFBs, to everyone. To herself. Secrets. Toxic. Overdose.

So much for our roommate arrangement, me paying her rent for past 3 months, while she steals me blind -- TV, DVDs, BED, FURNITURE. Saved my electronics though she had them boxed up. "Me and BF need a little more time alone together, stay at your place tonight," she texted, as I rushed over after work to salvage what I could from her doper attack. She already begs for cash without return favors.

We sucked.

And fucked, but she wasn't getting off. Too much opium, too much trauma, too much rape, not enough love, not enough time. I could literally feel her pain in her pussy through my hard dick. Too many fucks for bucks. Too mechanical. No orgasms. She hates her addiction, but loves the freedom from reality. What to do for my sad friend?

I ask what she needs to get off? We fuck without fucking, she says. She does herself, with my massage and her favorite vibrator. Tracy's favorite vibrator. Ashley's too. She tells me to do myself. I comply. She likes that in a man. We cum, together, separately. She needed that. Very very much. BF don't do it for her, can't, don't know how, don't care?

I gave ML the first orgasms since her baby nearly a year ago, stolen shortly after birth.

I fought for her, she asked me too. Her family got her child, they refuse to let her see it 99% of the time. It kills her. She's so traumatized. My Mafia Princess comes out to play. Italian, Irish and Kosher Nostra. Unrecognizable as the original Miss Lovely. Miss Hateful should be her new name. She threatens to extort me, to kill me, if I don't give her cash then dash. I'm not the only one she plays this game with, and I get my ass nearly beat for believing her lies, by the guy Tracy fucked in me bed.

But that's not the real ML. I know. I've seen. I've heard. I've felt. I've loved. I want to bring her back from her pit of Hell. Will I survive our journey?

This latest Revelation risks me being homeless. Her too, perhaps. Stakes are high.

It started with an opened condom wrapper. Mine. Then a used condom. Full of cum. Left on my bed. By Miss Lovely. Not my cum. WTF?!

She lied, of course. "I need your key to store some stuff."

"Where's my key you already got?"

"Uh... I lost it. BF musta took it. Or Fred." The married customer in love with her she tried to fuck in my bed once before, during hard times. Supposedly never hooked up, but my soul will never be the same. YTF does HE have MY key?!!!!

I return from work quickly, to retrieve my key from my "retired" hooker. She's in a good mood, wearing her whore shorts, looking hot, smirking a lil bit, bossing BF around, cleaning up "my" empty room in their (her) apartment (she sold or stole all my furniture!). I get and go.

When home, I discover the hard evidence.... Hard to ignore. How the fuck did she miss that? Did she leave it on purpose? Did one of her alter egos leave it in spite? Was she so high she had no fucking idea?

"WTF?!" I text her.

She panics. Suicidal, she claims. We gotta meet, she says. She has amnesia, brainfog, she says. Dope? Nope, she says. Or MPD? Jealous rage? Or just more greed for cash and dash? Or rage over an alleged dash? What's his name? "IDK...."

She was just fired from a second job for seizures or diabetic coma, with missing time, a key symptom of multiple personality disorder from her childhood bondage rapes and death threats. Her money is tight, she fears eviction. I wish I earned more. ML is pushing me to earn more, that's not so bad. She earned over $100,000 a year for fucking, for dope. I can't keep up with that, not yet.

It started with a "fake" advert on a fuckbuddy site, perhaps posted by ML's condom date, who she claimed failed to pay her, cash and dash. But she looked to happy afterwards, like she did get her dope, or rent money. One of her rapists texted her to ask if her BF posted it, with or without her permission? At any rate, she texted me that someone posted this fake ad, and BF was allegedly furious her cell got bombed by horny whoremongers. She of course blamed ME, to take the heat off her. "I'll make it right, just don't text him back! I'll fix it later." She begged. Then our friend got involved and all Hell broke loose, costing both of us $100s of not $1000s of dollars in legit business, possible evictions....

"It's ok, we're just friends. You're not my GF, you can fuck who you want. I'd rather you not do it in my bed, however. Especially if you're not paying me half." I lied.

She's relieved, but never paid me half, "because I got robbed!" LOL

But now she hates me, yet again.

It hurts. More than I care to admit.

Does the future hold?

I hope and pray we can help each other, without destroying each other. Someday.


Im in love with ML, as a friend

PS: Now someone is stalking her, calling her contacts but not speaking, with ML talking in the background.... In addition to the "fake" advert. I got one of these calls too. To b cumtinued......

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Friday, September 12, 2014

Cuddlebuddies

Sabrina calls me. She's sobbing uncontrollably. Her life is falling apart, while she rebuilds it. She's gonna do something tragic if she don't get help, from me, today, now.


Sabrina

"Please help! I need a place to stay for awhile. I need you!"

Of course I drop everything and head over. Who needs sleep in the middle of the night?

I'm apprehensive, zero PDA from me from now on, for a lady gangraped by 7 preppy white boyz who nearly murdered by repeated strangulation and 20 slashes, left for dead in an ally. Even her babydaddy raped her and made her dig her own grave. I remember her last punch in public, after I swatted her ass. No more PTSD triggers from me.

She hugs me hard and tight. She gives me the best hugs of my life. Mommy hugs full of love and loss. Contrast.

She doesn't even insist on driving us back. Something must be horribly wrong....

Red flags wave, but of course I speed into drama at Wide Open Throttle. Time to slow down when I die.

Back to my place. All my furniture and TV stolen by Miss Lovely. Electronics disassembled in hiding. (Long story, extenuating circumstances, but similarities to Sabrina with her best friends, so I'm on High Alert for Doper Madness.)

Sabrina don't care. She's disturbingly comfortable with my loss of economic status. She's just happy to see me. I turn on the expedient music system. We dine and drink.

We shower, separately. She's shy, for a stripper.

We dress, barely. Together. She hugs me, again.

We go to bed, on the floor, on a camping mattress, in a sleeping bag made for one.

We cuddle.

And snuggle.

She kisses.

"I love you Whores & Hookers." She says.

"I love you too, as a friend." I XOXO.

"Thank you for being my friend. I don't know who else I can talk to. I've got nobody to talk to every day. I've lost my best and only friend!" Bigfoot, her ex, who tried to kick my ass before 98-pound Sabrina stepped between us, tough love, tough hate. She's opening her soul, again, but longer this time. Much longer. I love her clean and sober lifestyle change.

She tells me her tales of woe, crying softly. I listen.

Kicked out of her dad's hotel room. Seems she pissed off the wrong dealer, by pouring oil on the porch outside her room, laughing as her head hit the floor. She giggles maniacally.

Fired from her new job she was so excited about. I'd driven her to work a couple times. She looked smoking hot in her waitress kit. Her experience in stripping and waiting tables is a powerful tool for extracting money from both men and women. Seems the other girls got jealous of competition. And the manager said she was too stupid to learn, her epileptic seizures causing amnesia and all.

And she's preggie, again. Yeah, with 3 kids, 2 from rapes, she knows what birth control is. But her idiot married BF don't care to pull out. She put him in the poor house, after his $50,000 a year salary for his sugarbaby. I get to pick up his pieces, and her bills. Another abort, another child she loves, lost. Having that baby is a crime. The Death Panels get more work.

I stroke her hair. She loves that. Reminds her of her kidnapped daughter who stroked her hair until she fell asleep every night. She cries again.

We cuddle and snuggle. She holds me tight. That's new.

I massage her entire body, all night. I get maybe 3 hours sleep. She sleeps at least 6. That's new, better than her usual 1 hour a night for the past many years, thanks to seizure disorder from getting run over by a car, as a child, while visiting her hooker junkie mom.

Next day, clear blue eyes, not a hint of tears of rain. We live life.

That night, repeat.

I awaken, to a friendly handjob. A pleasant surprise. No pay to play, first time for everything. Sabrina is getting quite good at that. She loves to see my "seizure face" as she calls it. I've seen her seizure face. But her endurance is still low, ADHDDDDDDD as she calls it. She orders me to finish myself, as she watches. I comply. She watches for awhile, then starts texting, lovely, walks out of the room. No stopping now. She's in the bathroom. I close my eyes and do the deed. "I'm cumming if you wanna see!" I open my eyes to see her sitting in the hall watching me intently.... Damn!

I've had so many situations where this cums up, with so many girls, through the decades. Might as well get used to it. She makes me feel comfortable with that. That's new. I like it. Good skillset, putting on a sexshow. Girls r horny, who knew? She giggles and cleans me up, inside and out, pumping my last drop.

"When was the last time you had sex?" I snoop.

"Three months ago, with Bigfoot."

"Are you fuckin anybody else?" I wait for a punch or curse, none received.

"No, but Bigfoot don't believe me." I wonder why?!

"When was the last time you got off?"

"It's been longer than that."

"That's too long, it's not healthy. I'd love to get you off, as a friend, you deserve it. I would help you relax, and get your life back."

She looks at me sideways, interest in her eyes, unable to hide it. I know. I wait.

We make plans for another out-of-state excursion for her to show her pussy to strange men. She wants several days this time. But I'm working to pay bills, I can't take that much time off. So she plans to take her roadtrip with her 2nd BFF, an elder sugardaddy who already bought her 3 cars and paid her bills for a year, despite only licking her once. It musta been great...she still won't let me, for now.

Eventually, it's time for her to go, her quest for cash exhausts one man, she moves to feed upon another host. I know the drill. I'm just glad it's not me paying her high maintenance. She packs her bags. I'm unusually sad to see her go. She feels the same. Her anger mounts over nothing. She blames me for everything. I allow her to vent. IDC, except when she's hugging me, or fucking me.

She picks a fight, over Fuckbook, to justify her abandonment. She wants desperately to stay, but I cannot afford it. Nobody can. Until she settles down and grows up, to quote Bigfoot.

Next stop, getting her off....