Wednesday, July 17, 2013
8:28am
Good morning! Have a wicked awesome Wednesday!
Monthly Archives: July 2014
All-star game
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
8:08am
Good morning kid! Have a terrific Tuesday!
8:14am Phil
Good morning! You too!
8:18am
Hiya Handsome! Wanna dance?
8:21pm
With Mom, watching the all-stars. We’re rooting for the same team for one night! Go AL!
9:34pm Phil
Ha ha. Listening to music.
9:34pm
Cool!
AL is leading!
Home now.
11:43 pm
Cool article on a project to decrease domestic violence that working and saving lives. Hooray!
http://www.slate.com/blogs/xx_factor/2013/07/15/massachusetts_figured_out_a_simple_solution_to_prevent_domestic_homicide.html?fb_ref=sm_fb_share_chunky_bottom
Sweet Truck
From: Mr Truck
To: Sassy
Sent: Saturday, July 13, 2013 7:53 AM
Subject: Hey
How ya been Sassy girl
Was thinking about you recently while watching some big tits videos. I loved playing with your big luscious tits. You have such great nipples too. Mmmm and all that Snow White skin. We’d have such naked fun!
Headed south for 2 weeks, will try to keep in touch on the road
xox
========
From: Sassy
To: Mr Truck
Sent: July 13, 2013 9:44 am
Re: Hey
Hiya hot stuff! Great to hear from you and have a chance to think about the magic we can conjure up together.
It’s been a bizarre week… dealing with Mom and frazzled siblings. Work craziness. And an awful date that makes me want to never take a chance again. *sigh I’m going to sit on the shelf awhile and ponder. Thanks for reminding me there are nice men in the world. 
Have a fabulous trip!
-S
Drooling
Monday, July 15, 2013
1:22pm
Off to a slow start… home today. Can’t keep from looking at your sexy smile and your hunky shoulders and your gorgeous ass! Happy Monday!
The diner
Dear Readers:
Twenty years ago I went through a hot spell of writing erotica during the summer. I emailed them to a man in the midwest that I met on the internet, back in the days before the World Wide Web, when that was a rare and wild thing. That man is known as “Hubby” in my posts.
Here’s a sample. Enjoy!
-Sassy
Sun, Jul 10, 1994 at 12:23 AM
The diner
He sat on the high stool at the counter of the diner out on
Highway 15. He travelled all over the world, ate exotic food
with sophisticated women, but sometimes he just had to have
good, old American homestyle food. He could cook amazing
dishes, but had never mastered pot roast or meatloaf or pie.
So he ordered the special – pot roast, mashed potatoes and
peas. Hmmm – better be careful to save room for pie. His
mouth watered as he glanced at the freshly baked wonders in
the glass case. He took in the people seated around him –
truck drivers, farmers, teenagers and a business woman. Wait,
a woman in a suit? She stuck out. She’d taken over the far
end of the counter with papers and a lap-top computer and a
yellow pad. She was eating the special and reading a paperback.
He squinted to make out the title. Holy shit! It was his
collection of erotic essays. Yikes. Then he remembered no one
would know. He’d made it that way. Made life easier. But at
times he just couldn’t resist talking to someone reading his
stuff. Before he could consider the consequences, or lose his
nerve, he spoke to her.
“How’s the roast tonight?” He queried.
She looked up, surprised and unsure he’d spoken to her.
He smiled and looked right at her expectantly.
“It’s wonderful, as always. Nothing like Bea’s roast.”
she responded, almost drooling over her plate. He wondered if
she came here often, but knew better than to voice that hopelessly
trite question.
“How’s the book? I know his stuff, pretty good read.” Oh,
he’d done it now.
She glanced at the cover and smiled sheepishly, adding,”It
is one of the few things that takes my mind completely away from
work.” She sighed so deeply he thought he felt the air move around
him. It made him even braver, or more foolish.
“Is it the stories or the sex that does it?” He blurted.
She colored slightly at his bluntness, then waxed poetic on
a subject she’d obviously given a lot of thought.
“I think they’re inextricably linked. At least the way he
writes it. You get so caught up in the people and the place and the
magic. He notices such amazing things and describes them so well,
the sex just fits right in. It’s not jarring or forced like in so
many bestsellers. I often wonder if they’re written by a woman, or
a man/woman team. They are so tender, yet so…provocative.” She
glanced up, rather non-plussed to have carried on so.
He had nearly spit out the mouthful of water he’d sipped
when she’d mentioned them being written by or with a woman. He
usually considered it a compliment, but tonight he was tempted to
tell her how wrong she was. He didn’t blab often about that. His
agent had a fit whenever he breached the security of the pseudonym
they had worked so hard to create and protect. But he couldn’t
resist tonight.
“I wrote them, the essays.” He confessed to her.
Her eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t question his statement.
That was unusual.
She seemed to ponder her next question very carefully.
“I’ve always had a thousand questions after reading each story,” she
admitted rather reluctantly.
“Like what happens to the people afterwards?” He asked. She
was offended that he thought she’d want to know something so ordinary.
“No. No, I meant, well, I want to know about the author.” She
glanced away, visibly more uncomfortable now. He sought to reassure
her.
“Well, I have to be very careful what I say, security and all
that, you know. But you seem trustworthy. Why don’t you ask, and
I’ll tell you whatever I can?” He offered carefully.
She was relieved and accepted his offer with a nod. The waitress brought
his dinner, and he motioned to her to set it down at the end, so he
could sit next to the lady in the suit. The waitress looked
astonished, but complied. The lady didn’t even bat an eyelash as he
settled in where he could see her, at the corner of the counter.
“My real name is Nick,” he said, hoping she’d reciprocate.
“Sally. Pleased to meet you,” she added gracefully and
reached over to shake his hand. He grasped her hand and had the
oddest sensation, as if he never wanted to let go.
They ate pot roast together and she asked him challenging
questions about his writing habits and inspirations and probed the
fiction/non-fiction line that always terrified the publisher’s lawyer.
She stroked his ego so guilelessly. He felt ten feet tall by the time
the pie arrived. She was frank and funny and had no qualms discussing
even his raciest themes. She blushed a lovely shade of pink, but
that was the only sign that they weren’t discussing the weather. He
realized about half way through the pie that he wanted to take her
home with him.
Despite the themes in his book, he was rather shy and not really
prone to one-night stands or even affairs. He tried to pretend to be
one of his braver characters, a trick that had worked in the past, and
invited her over for a nightcap. She politely refused in a way that
managed not to bruise his ego. But it made her realize the lateness
of the hour and begin to gather her belongings. He asked for her
phone number, but she smiled sadly and declined. Maybe she’d see him
her again sometime, she offered. He wondered if she was married.
Just his luck. Now he’d have to eat here every night, waiting for
her.
She paid her bill and waved as she left. He beckoned the
waitress. It took forever to get the bill, which she pressed in his
hand and then ran back to the kitchen. He looked for the total and
saw it was scratched through with these words scribbled below, “On the
house. Tried to fix her up for ages. She eats here every Thursday.”
He was dumbfounded, but pleased. Nothing like a little well placed
help just when he needed it. He plunked down a huge tip, and whistled
as he headed out the door.
She wasn’t surprised when she found him sitting in a booth
the next Thursday, typing on his computer, obviously waiting for
her. They had a lovely dinner, the meatloaf this time. He gave her
one of his unpublished stories to read, and gloried in watching her
face as she read each word. She made several comments his editors
would envy, then asked him some very personal questions. He asked
her some in kind, and she answered almost everything, except any
clue to where she lived or worked. It frustrated him, but he
understood her reticence. As the hour grew late, he frantically
searched for a way to be alone with her. As they were paying the
bills, she mentioned she’d be out of town next Thursday. His heart
fell. But then she added quietly that she was planning to eat
there on Tuesday instead, if he wasn’t busy and wanted to join her.
He clamped down his shout of joy, and they agreed on 7 pm.
He got up to walk her to her car, and took her arm as they strolled across
the parking lot. He took her key and opened the door gallantly,
then dragged her into his arms. He kissed her gently and lightly,
at first. Then let out his raging desire for her in the blaze of
tongue and teeth and pressure. He held her so tightly, he knew she
could feel the effect she had on him. But in only a few minutes,
she pulled away, climbed quickly into the car and drove away. Damn,
damn, damn. He’d lost his touch. He hadn’t waited this long for a
woman since high school!
He met her on Tuesday, and convinced her to join him again
Wednesday before her trip. He never got further than a passionate
kiss at the car door, but he kept hoping. She knew he was frustrated,
but pleaded with him to be patient, that it wasn’t him but her past
that made her so cautious. He thought of following her home, or
nosing around in her briefcase when she was in the bathroom, but
knew that wouldn’t solve anything. It might even scare her away.
So they ate meat and potatoes and pie, and he took whatever she could
give, and gave her more than he’d ever given any woman. He began to
think unprecedented thoughts like marriage, children, a house in the
country. He kept telling himself it was too soon, and she wouldn’t
even tell him her last name. He’d seen it on her card, tucked in a
pocket of her open briefcase – Sarah Rogers. He wondered who’d
started calling her Sally, and why there was no initial. But he had
not asked for fear of revealing his snooping.
Finally, after nearly a month of homestyle dinners and
in-depth discussions, and kisses at the car, he sensed a change in
her. She began to touch him more often during dinner, and even
showed up with a sexy story she had written, a barely disguised
fantasy about them. She went much further in her imagination than
he’d ever gotten with her. He was glad she couldn’t see his lap
while he read it. It was good, especially since she admitted she
had never penned anything other than business reports before this.
He began to hope, really hope that she would relent and let him into
her life.
One evening, he got to the diner in the midst of a terrible
thunderstorm. He parked next to her car, and noticed her sitting in
it, head down over the wheel. Probably waiting out the storm. He
motioned to her, and was taken aback by the terror in the face she
raised to him. He jumped out of his car and ran around to her
passenger door, which was open by the time he reached it. He plopped
down and calmed his ragged breath, brushing the huge raindrops from
his face. She raised a finger to catch one running down his cheek,
and traced it down to his chin. He shivered uncontrollably for a
moment at the contact and the unfamiliar look of raw desire on her
face. He grabbed her hand and pulled her off balance across the
seat, pressing his lips to hers and gathering her in his arms. She
joined him in the dance of their tongues, and her hands were as busy
as his, teasing and testing the feel of his arms and chest and
shoulders.
She pulled back again and he thought he might strangle her
for stopping when she whispered, “Come home with me. Now. Right
now.” He stared at her, unsure if she had said the words he longed
to hear or if he had finally lost his mind. He blinked and took in
her lovely features, then nodded his head.
She gathered her wits about her as the rain slowed slightly,
then started the car and drove as if the devil himself was after her.
He pressed a hand to her leg and watched her, not noting the route.
He had no idea how long or how far they drove, but he wasn’t surprised
when she pulled in to a swank condo building and parked underground.
She seemed very nervous, but happy as she took his hand and led him
to the elevator, then into her modestly decorated unit. The moment
she closed the door, he pressed her against it and kissed her deeply.
They started to remove each other’s clothes in a frenzy, honoring
each new area of exposed flesh with a tender touch or soft kiss.
Finally, she took him to her bed. They held each other tightly,
overwhelmed by all the dreams coming to fruition. They both
realized this was not the time for pretty words or creativity.
They’d had weeks of foreplay leading inexorably to this moment.
They were both too close to the edge.
She reached over him to get a foil packet out of the bedside table,
and helped him put it on. He rolled onto her and felt her skin everywhere
and his rock hard sex on her stomach. She guided him
to the place he had wanted to be since soon after he first saw her
eating pot roast. He marveled at the tightness of her, even
though it had been clear in their discussions that she had been
alone for a long time. He waited for her to move, then began the
thrusts that would push them both over the edge too soon. But he
couldn’t hold back. He felt her body respond, and pushed deeper.
He lost all control and she met his every stroke, raking her nails
down his back and pressing his ass to her. He let go and felt
the flow pulse from deep within him, into the thin barrier between
them. He imagined it gone, and the picture pushed him completely
over the edge. He felt her trembling and bucking, pleased she had
joined him in ecstasy.
As the best afterglow of his life overtook him, he felt as
if a million questions he’d held inside had been answered without
even having to be asked. He chided himself for assuming that
finally consummating their relationship would mean anything other
than another step in the long road of their lives, but he knew in
his heart that it must mean there was a chance for their lives to
be lived together. Something he suddenly realized he wanted more
than anything. He said a quick prayer that she would feel the same.
For the first time in weeks, he could wait to ask her. He let
himself drift, with her head on his chest and their legs intertwined.
When his strength began to return, he kissed her hair and she looked
up at him with a look of such pleasure and peace that he thought his
heart would burst.
“Stay. Please.” She whispered as she kissed his neck.
“Forever,” he answered poetically. She smiled sweetly and
they drifted off in each other’s arms. Where they belonged.
Back side too
Sunday, July 14, 2013
10:27am
Good morning kid! Busy day! Lunch with Mom, two project meetings and the annual project barbecue at Jo’s house! Beautiful day for it. Hope you enjoy this Sunday!
4:18pm Phil
[Very clever photo of him toasting me with his margarita, naked in his bedroom, with the mirror in the background so I can see his back side too!]
4:30pm
Swoon
6:46pm Phil
Oops! My ass is hanging out!
7:01pm
Blow up doll
E) Afterthoughts
I drove home thinking… it had its moments but I didn’t want to see him again. I have never thought that after a meet. I’ve had some bad times but always thought it might be better a second time.
The Good
It was fun to play with a toy at last, and he was very good to let me do it to him in return, but I wish he had been more gentle. He fucked me well for the 5 minutes he was inside me in two positions. Okay. Whatever.
The Bad
He made me very sore in the first five minutes… didn’t listen when I asked him to slow down. I didn’t get asked if it was okay to do any particular thing, or if I was cumming, or if I wanted to do anything else. I got one compliment, and no good reaction to anything I did except suck on him and I didn’t get to do it in a position that let me show off my skills…. i.e. where I could see his face. It was his show all the way. I just don’t… like him. And more and more I find myself needing to like a guy in order to be inspired to do intimate things with him. No cuddling. Not much kissing. Bleh.
The Ugly
He had wrecked my insides. I could feel the blood trickling out as I was thinking bad thoughts about him! I draw the line at bleeding.
I spent the rest of the ride home thinking of Philip and Simon, wishing I could see them again instead of doing this crap.
I texted him. “Home. Thanks.”
He texted me, “ “
“ It’s really sad… gorgeous body, his own place, no need for much stealth, close to me geographically, good conversation and… I don’t want him. I don’t feel safe or comfortable with him in the bedroom. It’s like “what will he make me do next?” And “how will he hurt me next time?” Ugh. I feel like the law of averages caught up with me. My luck turned bad. 13 is an unlucky number!
Let that be all. Not only him, but all of AM. I am done with this fuck and run stuff. Sex is not enough. I need someone to be nice to me. To say nice things. Maybe give me a single flower. Or go out for dinner. Treat me like a lady. Listen to me in bed. I need to stick up for myself and find the right guy. But for now, I give up. Shelve this one under “older and wiser” and move on. *sigh
F) Thoughts the next day – Thursday, July 11, 2013
The next morning I was talking to a blogger friend online and more thoughts coalesced. Bloggers are the best people!
Like most men – he does what he wants, the way he wants – I might as well be a blow up doll.
It had its moments but….not what I wanted. And not close enough in any direction to think I could make it into something good. And it hurt. I am still bleeding. The more I analyzed it, the more violated I felt. And it felt like it could get worse! So sad… nice guy outside the bedroom but in the bedroom – silent, rough, didn’t pay any attention to me, just did what he wanted. Please don’t let him want more!
I did write to ask if he’d send me the video he made. He said the battery died and he only got about a minute. (Which was a lie. I saw the light flashing as I left the bedroom). I asked him to send whatever he had. I never heard from him again.
I’m done. How can I meet anyone else? How can I trust my judgement? Back on the shelf.
Nice men, lobster and toes
Saturday, July 13, 2013
[He posted photos of the seafood boil including huge lobster tails, a photo of his family and a photo of his bare toes warming by the backyard fire pit]
12:08pm
Good morning kid! Thank you ever so much for reminding me of the good things in life… nice men, lobster and your toes! Mwah!
I’m off to Mom’s for lunch. Have a great Saturday!
Alone with The Body
Wednesday, July 10, 2013 Part 3
D) Meet #2
He called me about 5:30 pm (as I was driving home from work) to say he was done with his meeting and headed home and could be ready by 7:00 pm. I said great, went off to run an errand with Hubby and pick up supper from McDonald’s.
He texted me at 6:49 pm to say he was home. I told him I’d be there in 30 minutes. He told me to call when I got to his street and he’d show me where to park to be discreet with the neighbors.
I brushed my teeth and washed my hands and face then drove out there. It was raining and the traffic was awful but I finally made it about 7:40 pm. I parked around the corner and called him. He guided me to a spot in front of the house two doors down from him. He met me at the door, gave me a big hug and took me to the kitchen for a glass of water. He was drinking red wine from a carton with a spicket in the fridge. He had on a striped polo shirt and black running pants with a white stripe down the outside of each leg. He has short buzz cut gray hair. He is very fit!
We talked a little, then he took off his shirt and went into his bedroom. There was no a/c in there. UGH. He asked if he could take a couple photos – set up a tripod with a little camera and did that. I asked what he would do with them and he said they weren’t going anywhere, just give him something to look at when I’m not around. I know… I’m stupid.
He sat on the edge of the bed and helped me undress. He massaged and kissed my left breast. I asked if he’s a boob man – he replied that he is an everything man. He pulled off his running pants and was naked underneath. Nice. I stared at his cock. He put on a thin purple plastic cock ring. I had never seen one before. He has a beautiful body but has been in the sun too much – his skin has the super dark reddish tan that just looks stupid to me these days.
I finished undressing and he stood in front of me. I sucked on him a little but he backed me off saying he didn’t want to come right then. I figured he was going to be a one-time only comer. Most men my age are. He pulled me to the edge of bed, grabbed a purple rabbit, lubed it and popped my toy cherry! I told him it was my first time and he smiled. The vibrations were really something! He told me hold my legs up and out, which is not comfortable. I know the position to keep my legs apart and flat, but he wanted them up and kept pushing them back into that position. Ouch. Ugh. He was rather forceful with the rabbit… didn’t give me a chance to get wet and it hurt on the inswing, so I told him and he slowed down a bit for a moment but then sped up again. He was going really fast and I got sore very quickly. He was hitting my cervix and it hurt. Ouch! I twisted and close my legs to relieve that, but he kept on, so I finally said, “That hurts!” and he backed off. There was blood. Ugh! He kept on going. I was starting to get afraid. This isn’t fun. But I kept going. Maybe it will get better?
He flipped me up the bed on my back, then climbed over me and presented me with his cock to suck while he sucked on me. I kinda hate 69…I had told him that. I can’t concentrate – but I did my best and he had to back me off again because he was about to come. He handed me the rabbit and told me to fuck his ass with it! I asked if he wanted it hard or slow and he said, “medium.” I had no idea what to do, and I couldn’t really see because I was under him. I rubbed it backed and forth, then pressed it inside him a little, then further in and out, and a bit further and out, while sucking him. At one point he moaned and told me to shove it all the way. I did that and deep-throated him. He moaned beautifully. He told me to stop so he wouldn’t cum. I don’t recall anything he did to me in that position because I had to focus on sucking and fucking him. It was all about him.
He told me to sit on his face. I was afraid I’d squish him and said so. He said he could handle it, pulled my arm hard to get me into position. I tried to play a bit as I made my way up there, licking his nipples and kissing him, but he urged me to hurry up and over. I really didn’t want to do 69 again, but he didn’t react to what I did so I went along. It is not fun when you try to make a guy feel good and he just pushes you to do what he has planned.
He sucked me while I sucked him. It felt good to shift back and forth over his face, as I could control the pace a bit. He pushed my head down to suck him again, though it is not ideal due to my tummy. I took him to the edge again with my mouth, licking his balls and then deep-throating him while he moaned. I stopped and he said keep sucking! I explained that it was tough to focus when he was sucking on me, but he pushed my head down. Sigh. Again, I don’t know what he did to me after that. Looks like this is going to be all about sucking him and nothing about me.
He pulled me to the end of the bed on my hands and knees, put on a condom and entered me doggie style. That felt really good. He is not long but wide… very good fit. He went in and out a few times, kneading my ass with his hands and making low groans. It started to hurt, so I shifted a little and asked him what he saw and all he said was, “It’s so good, going in…” I felt cheated because I couldn’t see and he wouldn’t tell me. I had to go into my imagination which detracted from it. After about 3 minutes, he flipped me over, pulled my heels to his shoulders, pumped a few times, looked me in the eyes, moaned and came. I smiled at him. That was very hot! He collapsed next to me for about 10 seconds. I was hoping he would now let me do things, or I could request some way to get off.
He got up and got me my glass of water, then went into the kitchen and turned on the TV and checked his phone. I sat on the edge of the bed, a bit stunned. No cuddling? No pillow talk? Was he done? Before I had a chance to cum? But I was relieved to have a break.
He called to me, said he would need a few minutes to recover. I got up and headed to the bathroom. That’s when I noticed the blinking red light on the camera sitting on the tripod at the end of bed. He had recorded the entire thing! Argh…
I found him at the kitchen table, drinking more wine, with his running pants back on. I sat with him, naked at the kitchen table, and we chatted. and chatted. I touched his arm, held his hand. He told me about running the Boston marathon. About his dad dying of cancer. I mentioned my dad dying while I was in chemo. He talked about his work in construction and real estate. About the end of his marriage. About a girlfriend he broke up with a month ago. How he’s moving. He gave up his apt to move in with GF but then they broke up so he’s going to live with his sister until he finds something else. About looking for a new job. He asked me why I can’t leave my husband. He wanted to know where I work. I was vague. He asked about my condo – real estate guy questions. We talked about the Whitey Bulger trial.
I stood up to get more water and kissed him a little. He got up to check his phone. I knew then he was done. He finally told me he didn’t think he could go again. I offered to use some of my talents on him. He said I was very talented (the only compliment I got the entire time I was there) but he said he had things to do and he wasn’t kicking me out but I should go unless I wanted to help him with his resume.
I took the hint and got dressed and took off. He gave me a very nice hug on the way out. I thanked him for popping my toy cherry. He laughed and said, “My pleasure.” He said he’d be in touch. He went out on the porch to check around and told me the coast was clear. I went to my car. I texted Hubby to tell him I was on my way home, ask if he needed me to pick up anything.
Don’t give up
Friday, July 12, 2013
8:45am
Be careful with those shitbags. Hope you have a great Friday! I am making a seafood boil for supper, crab, clams, shrimp, lobster, red potatoes, spicy sausage, fresh corn. Put plastic and newspaper down and dump it on the table and yum yum!
5:43pm
Tough to balance taking a chance with being careful. Definitely learning more all the time. Your supper sounds so delicious! I’ve never had that. I’m at Mom’s, having pasta arrabiatta some church person brought to Mom. And fresh cucumber a co-worker gave me for her.
6:24pm
That sounds good too! It’s kind of like a clam bake except better!
Err on the cautious side
6:27pm
It’s tough not to give up completely. *sigh
7:44pm
Oh good lord! Don’t do that! Lots and lots of great people out there and lobster!