Monday, March 30, 2015

Man, I Feel Like A Woman

2 years, 3 months. That's how long it's been. When I say that a lot can happen in 2 years, I'm sure everyone can relate. So, a big HOWDY to all my faithfuls in blog world! Missed me? Cause I sure as hell missed you!

So, where to begin..damn. How about I start at current and work my way backwards? Will that work? Goh, I sure hope so. My head is swimming with things to share all about the fast-paced world of R.

So even though I was something of a slut in my former (ahem..cough) life, I've become something like a fine wine with age. Dangerous, yet smooth.

I believe where I'd left off, I was single, well, in the process of trying to figure out my sexuality dealing with Terry, the preoperative transgender from my office. Well, I'm happy to report that I am strictly dickly. Yep. No more carpet licking, belly button weenus sucking for me. I prefer to be choked with the schlong.

Needless to say, Terry lasted all of 2 months after the last post. He...er...she crossed the line by perpetrating a straight natural-born man around people that was extremely taboo to do it around. When I saw that level of dishonesty surface, I completely disassociated, and we've not had sight nor sound since. She also got fired from the office for theft. Go figure.

I hung solo for quite a while after that. I finally completely purged Allen from my system, in a romantic sense, he married the nut-job, she and I actually became the closest of friends, and she was tragically killed in a car accident 6 months after they married. That was August of 2014.

Let me back up a bit....

After my bout with lonesomeness, I joined a few interracial sites on Facebook. My days of dating sites came to an end (that reasoning will come in another blog), but I wanted to stay connected to the interracial dating world. One particular page that I happened on has changed my world since January 2014.

Enter Dean.

The Facebook world of interracial blogging has it's creeps and pleasant blokes. One bored night, one of the creepsters posted a creepy pic of himself in a pair of Joe Boxers, to which he had no ass, and was completely flat in the front. Doof. Dean made a comment on the post that pretty much spoke my sentiments "dude, get on with that bullshit!". Of course, I liked it. I also liked Dean's profile picture.

Let me be nosey.

His page wasn't set to private, and from what I was reading, he lived in Oklahoma. As so I thought. After discovering that he's not only sexy as all get out, he's also a Marine Vet. My kinda man. A lotta sexiness wrapped up in a tight shell of psychotic. At least that's been my experience with Marines. If you ask me why I identify so much with the psychosis, well, I'll just respond that you need read this blog, and you'll discover why.

Being the brazen hussy that I consider myself to be, I decide to find out just where this vision of perfection was located. From my perspective at that point, I could appeal to my sexual nature as well as my visual senses. As luck would have it, he live just a bit over 2 hours from me in Kansas. Great. Here we go with this bullshit. Oh, well, at least he responded to my question of his geographical positioning, and accepted my sincere thanks for his service. So much for kindling anything.

Little did I know that he was stalking my page as I was his, and his interests had been piqued about me.

Fast forward 3 weeks. After conversation that quickly moved from Facebook emails to text messages, we were ready to meet. We agreed on a spot between us...hey, I may be a little looney, but I still value my safety...figuring if we didn't click in person, at least I wasn't too far from home. And of course I had my "emergency get out" plan on lock. I didn't need it.

I hate to leave you hanging after so long of no updates, but trust, there's plenty to write about, and write I shall do.

Til the next post, my dear ones