I masturbated to fantasies of you as I showered this morning.
I'm certain you have no idea what naughty little details swirled around in my mind as I slowly caressed the delicate folds of skin between my thighs. Eyes closed, breathless, warm water pelted the length of my body as I imagined us together, as I imagined your cock deep inside me, thrusting.
As I imagined my lips upon yours, your lips upon mine.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Wonder of Marriage
I am perpetually amazed at how ingenious my husband is at finding fault with every single thing I do. It certainly isn't easy going through life constantly reminded of your every last flaw.
The Husband and I argued over side dishes from Kentucky Fried Chicken last night. When I say argue, I mean argue, tooth and nail, screaming and crying.
He had assumed I was just going to pick up chicken, needless to say, I picked up a whole meal. Had he listened to anything I had said earlier in the day when we had actually discussed what we were going to have for dinner, the mix up would never have happened.
There in lies the problem....
It is a problem that has always been between us. To him, I am insignificant, nothing I have to say or do is ever as important as what he currently has on his mind. Several times his actions have come back to haunt me.
"Why didn't you tell me!" he normally yells when he has missed an appointment or messed up a meeting.
"What do you mean? I did tell you, that day you were......" I valiantly try to cleanse my credibility.
"Oh no you didn't, I would remember something like that!" he is condescending and arrogant by now.
"Perhaps if you would take a moment to listen to what I have to say once in a while, rather then blow me off like a fucking piece of shit, this situation would not happen!" at this I turn on my heel, tears streaming, wishing to God I could just disappear.
I knew the instant I got home it was going to be one of those moments. I could smell food smells coming from the kitchen, he had taken it upon himself to cook up some side dishes for the chicken.
The look on his face when I appeared in the kitchen with more then just chicken was a look of disgust.
"I don't know why I even bother wasting my time doing shit around here," he mumbled under his breath. "You just take the lazy way out every time anyway."
"Lazy way? Lazy way! I'm 8 months pregnant, or have you forgotten that?? I feel like I want to die most of the time to begin with, why in the hell do you think I want to stand around in a kitchen cooking for an hour after working all day?" I was furious. How dare he. I know from the depths of my soul that had I not shown up with anything but chicken, he would not have been in the kitchen making a thing. I can't help but wonder if he did this on purpose.
He was the one who wanted to come back, to make things work out. I didn't, I never did. I knew this would be the way it would be, once again. He promised it would be different, but I had heard that all before.
The Husband and I argued over side dishes from Kentucky Fried Chicken last night. When I say argue, I mean argue, tooth and nail, screaming and crying.
He had assumed I was just going to pick up chicken, needless to say, I picked up a whole meal. Had he listened to anything I had said earlier in the day when we had actually discussed what we were going to have for dinner, the mix up would never have happened.
There in lies the problem....
It is a problem that has always been between us. To him, I am insignificant, nothing I have to say or do is ever as important as what he currently has on his mind. Several times his actions have come back to haunt me.
"Why didn't you tell me!" he normally yells when he has missed an appointment or messed up a meeting.
"What do you mean? I did tell you, that day you were......" I valiantly try to cleanse my credibility.
"Oh no you didn't, I would remember something like that!" he is condescending and arrogant by now.
"Perhaps if you would take a moment to listen to what I have to say once in a while, rather then blow me off like a fucking piece of shit, this situation would not happen!" at this I turn on my heel, tears streaming, wishing to God I could just disappear.
I knew the instant I got home it was going to be one of those moments. I could smell food smells coming from the kitchen, he had taken it upon himself to cook up some side dishes for the chicken.
The look on his face when I appeared in the kitchen with more then just chicken was a look of disgust.
"I don't know why I even bother wasting my time doing shit around here," he mumbled under his breath. "You just take the lazy way out every time anyway."
"Lazy way? Lazy way! I'm 8 months pregnant, or have you forgotten that?? I feel like I want to die most of the time to begin with, why in the hell do you think I want to stand around in a kitchen cooking for an hour after working all day?" I was furious. How dare he. I know from the depths of my soul that had I not shown up with anything but chicken, he would not have been in the kitchen making a thing. I can't help but wonder if he did this on purpose.
He was the one who wanted to come back, to make things work out. I didn't, I never did. I knew this would be the way it would be, once again. He promised it would be different, but I had heard that all before.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Straps and Safety Harnesses Required
It has to be said that the individuals I work with are each unique and bazaar in their own way, definitely worth working with on even their worst days.
With the plant closing comes long days with very little to fill them. We have been left, pretty much, to our own devices, to create work to fill our days until our last.
Probably not a good thing when it comes to 'the gang', the group of misfits I call my friends. It is only in our group we could have such stimulating conversations about safety signs and hot dogs.
While it is not in my usual character to join in on potlucks and such at work, I decided today, because there are only 2 weeks of employment left for us, that I would do just that. After carefully scanning the food and analyzing who brought what and what was safe to eat I noticed, at the end of the table, a tin foil tray full of gigantic hot dogs.
Unable to keep my thoughts to myself, I return to the lunch table we had perched at and comment about the 'ginormous' hot dogs at the end of the table.
The conversation immediately heads for the gutter.
My cube mate laughs, and comments about their 'sheer size'. D, the gay man in the group, decides to comment on how the 'buns' are cringing with fear over the magnitude of the hot dogs girth and weight.
We are laughing, hysterically, and almost don't notice a passerby has picked up part of our conversation and does not realize we are in fact being lude and crude.
"I know," she says innocently. "These are great hot dogs! You don't normally find them this big, I can barely get my mouth around them." Peels of laughter come from our table. "They are quite the value! I need to find out where they were purchased," she has started trailing off, in search of her own group of friends.
Trying very hard, I somehow manage to gather a straight face, and pull one of the manufacturing magazines from the rack sitting beside us.
"There's something missing, I think," I state. Everyone is, by now, looking intently at me, wondering just what in the heck I'm doing. It was at this point that I opened the magazine to a page I had seen previously and somehow remembered. It was a page with a giant sign that read 'Straps and Safety Harnesses Required'.
"Someone could dislocate a jaw if they're not careful, a sign like this could save a life." Unable to stop myself, I continued, "especially if they are inexperienced at having such large objects placed in their mouths."
With the plant closing comes long days with very little to fill them. We have been left, pretty much, to our own devices, to create work to fill our days until our last.
Probably not a good thing when it comes to 'the gang', the group of misfits I call my friends. It is only in our group we could have such stimulating conversations about safety signs and hot dogs.
While it is not in my usual character to join in on potlucks and such at work, I decided today, because there are only 2 weeks of employment left for us, that I would do just that. After carefully scanning the food and analyzing who brought what and what was safe to eat I noticed, at the end of the table, a tin foil tray full of gigantic hot dogs.
Unable to keep my thoughts to myself, I return to the lunch table we had perched at and comment about the 'ginormous' hot dogs at the end of the table.
The conversation immediately heads for the gutter.
My cube mate laughs, and comments about their 'sheer size'. D, the gay man in the group, decides to comment on how the 'buns' are cringing with fear over the magnitude of the hot dogs girth and weight.
We are laughing, hysterically, and almost don't notice a passerby has picked up part of our conversation and does not realize we are in fact being lude and crude.
"I know," she says innocently. "These are great hot dogs! You don't normally find them this big, I can barely get my mouth around them." Peels of laughter come from our table. "They are quite the value! I need to find out where they were purchased," she has started trailing off, in search of her own group of friends.
Trying very hard, I somehow manage to gather a straight face, and pull one of the manufacturing magazines from the rack sitting beside us.
"There's something missing, I think," I state. Everyone is, by now, looking intently at me, wondering just what in the heck I'm doing. It was at this point that I opened the magazine to a page I had seen previously and somehow remembered. It was a page with a giant sign that read 'Straps and Safety Harnesses Required'.
"Someone could dislocate a jaw if they're not careful, a sign like this could save a life." Unable to stop myself, I continued, "especially if they are inexperienced at having such large objects placed in their mouths."
Friday, October 12, 2007
Have camera phone, will travel.
I've been flirting again with J. Shame on me, I can't help myself. I smile to myself as I read his emails, his shameless sexual innuendo and corny jokes.
I'm secretly hoping he will leave his wife.
Today at work I was forced to entertain quite possibly the most disgusting man on earth. He was a truck driver for an independent contract carrier who has been hired to haul yet more machinery and tooling from my plant.
I can't help but wonder where they scrape these people up from.
As I sat at my desk, staring in disgust, I could literally see his entire hairy ass hanging out for the world to see.
(While I may still be suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome, the doctor has assured me the involuntary head twitching will not be permanent.)
After several scratches, and 1 finger sniff, the man eventually pulled his pants up about his waist, ending my daytime nightmare.
Luckily, as resourceful as I am, I was able to capture the entire episode on cam, passing along my grotesque find to J, as I was sure he would enjoy it as much as I.
He did.
He thinks I'm kinky.
Perhaps I am.
I'm secretly hoping he will leave his wife.
Today at work I was forced to entertain quite possibly the most disgusting man on earth. He was a truck driver for an independent contract carrier who has been hired to haul yet more machinery and tooling from my plant.
I can't help but wonder where they scrape these people up from.
As I sat at my desk, staring in disgust, I could literally see his entire hairy ass hanging out for the world to see.
(While I may still be suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome, the doctor has assured me the involuntary head twitching will not be permanent.)
After several scratches, and 1 finger sniff, the man eventually pulled his pants up about his waist, ending my daytime nightmare.
Luckily, as resourceful as I am, I was able to capture the entire episode on cam, passing along my grotesque find to J, as I was sure he would enjoy it as much as I.
He did.
He thinks I'm kinky.
Perhaps I am.
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