Yeah, as you can prolly tell by the name of this article, this one rambles a bit.


It was a wet, boring week down here, and I could not help but think I was meant to be elsewhere.


Thursday night, David was local instead of being in Tampa. We ordered a pizza for dinner, and he was disappointed with the Olympic offering this evening.


He asked if I wanted to watch some porn.


I asked if Nick was gonna watch with us.


David said that Nick was busy, and it would just be us. He rolled towards me on the couch, and began kissing my neck and ear.


“Oh, no…could we just watch a movie instead?” I suggested.


Of course, David asked me why, and I told him that porn mostly bored me.


“Why?” David asked again, “its people fucking, you write about that every week.”


“No” I replied, “I write about us fucking. If you wanna make a movie of us, that’s cool.”


“Okay, who would hold the camera?” David asked.


Right away, I answered, “Nick”, and just as quickly, David said “No”.


“Why?” I argued, “He has already seen us both naked, and I don’t think he will try to fuck either of us”.


David said we should get a girl for this duty.


“Yeah, right…so you can film while I fuck her? I asked.


“Sure, and then you can film while I fuck her” David answered, knowing I would sooner consent to buying a pair of jeans from Wal-Mart.


I told him it was not time for him to fuck any more girls, and that he barely fucked me enough. And then it occurred to me that I knew the perfect girl for this job…Erica.


Regular readers may recall Erica. I wrote about her prolly like a year ago. Erica works in the airport, so I see her a couple times a week. Erica is a black girl, very outspoken and opinionated…and oh yeah, Erica is a full-blown lesbian. I have had many in-depth conversations with Erica about female sexuality, and just sexual scenarios in general. I find her fascinating, and I consider her someone with whom I would share most anything. Now, all I had to do was convince her that this was a good idea.


Erica declined my request. She said it seemed awkward and unorthodox. I interpreted this to mean creepy.


I said I understood, and apologized for asking in the first place. She giggled the entire time we talked.


I plugged the camera into the charger, just in case.


David and I had dinner at a sports bar on Saturday night. Nick and James (a friend of his, I had never met) joined us when we had almost finished eating. I had fun watching them comment about the various ditch pigs and cock-kabobs in attendance. I used the time to observe the behavior of many of the girls in the bar, and I made note of the difference in Nick’s behavior.


Nick had his “game” on…and his game is weak. I gotta believe that the success Nick has with girls happens largely because of his physical appearance, and in spite of his actual “game”. He has no rap. I noticed him chatting up this one girl, and within the first few minutes of talking to her, he is telling her that he likes golf, and manages a shoe store. I was waiting for him to mention that he drives a wadded-up Ford Ranger, and has an STD.


And the girls are not much better. I have never been a part of that “trolling for guys in a bar” crowd, and I have never really been a part of a Rat Pack of girls who went out together every weekend. Some of you might find this next statement contradictory, but I am gonna say it anyway. When I was single, I tended to look at guys first as someone to have fun with (not sex), and then as potential relationship material. I learned to have sex properly early on, and just automatically assumed that I could have good sex with most any guy (when the time came). It was more important to me to know I could have fun along the way. These girls seemed to rely on cleavage, butt-crack and kissing each other, to attract guys.


Anyway, I watched as Nick failed epically in his attempt to impress the girls with his lack of game. I drank several beers and did a few Washington Apple shots. Now, I have had a couple of bad experiences lately with both tequila shots and So-Co lime shots. The Washington Apples were pretty smooth…so far, so good.


Before David and I left the bar, I put on a little show for the IQ deficient (and most likely surgically enhanced) sports bar bimbos. I went to the restroom, removed my thong, and in full view of the gaggle of girls, I dropped it on the table in front of Nick. Then I did that little “pinkie finger/thumb” signal as I mouthed the words “call me”…and then we left.


David and I used the camera when we got home.


David filmed me as he lay on his back and I fellated him. I tried to be as sexy as I could. I made eye contact, and used facial expressions like a fat girl eating cheesecake or a Krispy-Kreme. I made sure to slobber on his penis for added visual appeal, and he likes when there is a strand of cum or saliva connecting me to his penis, when I take it out of my mouth…what a douche.


After that, I got on top of him and he continued to film me until I managed an orgasm. Again, I was sure to make what I thought would be a good “O” face. However, when I watched it later on television, it looked kinda like I smelled something bad…like that Renee Zellweger girl looks most of the time. David put down the camera, rolled me over and came inside of me. I lay on my back for a while, and held my knees tightly against my chest…hoping. Then I went downstairs and played on my forum for couple of hours.


The next day, Nick came over, and he and David played Wii golf. I asked him if he had my underwear, and if he got laid.


He said he got a phone number, and he left my underwear in the bar.


What a douche…


If the column this weeks seems a little “off”, I apologize, but welcome to my world. One of the reasons I love living here is the sunshine, and there was very little of it this week. Weather like we have had this week makes Florida a pretty miserable place to live. A beach without sunshine is like a hot guy with a small penis…I mean, what is the purpose?


Overall, it was a pretty dull week in Maggie-Town. The sex was mediocre and the weather was worse. David has not played golf since last Sunday, and even though he was home every night, we only had sex three times. I managed to creep out a lesbian, get drunk three times, and leave an undergarment in a bar.


This would have been a good week to come home to St. Louis…or maybe to fuck Nick.


I wonder which option David would have preferred?