World Cup

It is never a good idea to go into a pub at 10 am on a Sunday morning. Especially when you are allegedly old enough to know better. But I had watched a few soccer matches leading up to the final and had found a nice Public House that catered to soccer fans that was open that early on a Sunday. In I went to Kill a few Kennys with a couple of friends. There were a few overconfident Eastern European types in the pub as well and after a bit a few friendly wagers were made. The rest of the daytime hours are history. A big lunch after the match and pockets full of gambling largess I was released into the wild to fend for myself.




The night time hours were near, but not near enough. Where should I go?




I made my way cross town to Slammies.




It had been a while since I had been there. A mere matter of months this time rather than years for a change. I confess my slightly liquored and age addled brain almost admitted to itself that there was an irrational exuberance and audacity of hope that JoJo would be the barkeep this evening. Not being enough of a frequent flyer patron to know the schedules it was a crap shoot at best. But hey, this had been my day for being on the right side of the crap and besides it was still early. JoJo always did wonders for both my mood and libido, if for no other reason that she exuded exquisite energy on all spectrums.




Well when I arrived the the place was busy with World Cuppers who also had been sporting since the early morning hours so entertainment was to be had in conversation and camaraderie. Not to mention since when does anybody in the US care about soccer. But Rodney was slinging the drinks and truth be told he was much more adept with soccer ruffian speak than JoJo would have been.




But with a day of imbibing and visions of JoJo and other ghosts of Slammies gibbering in my head; plus ill gotten gains in my pocket left only one thing to be done.




I went to long forgotten but dark corner of many a man's past and headed further afield out to the airport strip clubs.




Dark. Expensive. Reeking of unrequited male lust after the unattainable dreams and transactional commerce of the most basic and ancient kind. Knowing that I was stimulating the economy and myself in a manner that will only result in a trip down memory lane of what a naked woman of a totally inappropriate age for me looks like, I was on a splurge. The visual enticement would certainly charge my batteries. Polite, but never wanting to waste a dancers time when she could be transacting commerce, left me with plenty of time to enjoy the dancers lithe bodies from afar. Not dark lurking corner afar. More midway between drooling stage side tipping range and creeper corner where the bouncers watch for the first whiff of trouble.




The dancers are delightful. All ages and body types. Lovely to the last jiggle. I am mesmerized at the bounty displayed. Some eliciting illicit memories. Others merely long held fantasies. Much to the dismay of the women's bottom line I am too frugal to invest too much of my liquid capital on things other than my liquid hobbies.




That is when it happened. The stage went dark. The MC announce the next performers name. I don't even recall what it was. Your stock in trade strippers name. It was clever. It was enticing. It was not to common. Not to abstruse. It was just…...JoJo!




Okay. I admit I thought about skulking out. For her ? For me? Considering the number of faces she has to see across the weathered bar of Slammies was I kidding myself that she would even recognize me? With the stage lights could she even see beyond the leering laddies stage side with their mitts full of lucre?




I stayed. I confess. The thought of seeing JoJo naked, strutting, and shimmering won the fantasy soccer day prize. Yes I’m that guy. My unreasonable expectations were taking a step that my wildest hopes would have dismissed just moments before. Naked strange women was one thing. My favorite bartender whose imagined visage has roiled my monkey brain for months was a horse of a different color.




I was transfixed as her goth girl inspired clothing became a melting pathway to paradise.




Then our eyes met.

TMI Tuesday: June 19, 2018

by TMI Tuesday blog

Hi there! Let’s play TMI Tuesday.

Take a Look at Me Now.

1. What was your biggest worry five years ago, do you still have that same worry or feel the same about it at this minute?

5 years ago: I was worried I would never feel her slender fingers lift the back of my scrotum as she knelt before me and enveloped me in her ever intriguing mouth.

Now: I worry I will never again feel her slender fingers lift the back of my scrotum as she kneels before me and envelops me in her ever intriguing mouth.

2. Do you have a positive or negative body image? What factors contribute to your self body image?
a. advertisements
b. media and social media
c. comments from others
d. introspection and analysis of self

e. all of the above.

They all give me both the negative and positive body image I have of myself. Since I am a body and not just leasing one; I soak it all in. But I believe the vast majority of the input I receive from all of the above sources; is those sources trying to sell me something.    

3. How confident are you as a person?
a. no confidence at all

On the confidence scale as devised by Sir Sidney Fudd I scored ambivalent.

b. confident around friends and family
c. confident at work, and in my job
d. very confident in my surroundings–work, social settings, with strangers

4. How creative a person are you? Why?
a. not creative
b. average creativity
c. creative in some situations

I am all about  the moment and the present situation.  Aren't we all now.

 d. very creative

5. Do you resent things being uncertain and unpredictable? Why?
a. agree
b. undecided or Don’t Know
c. disagree

I never resent what is. I never lie, and I am always right. Vote For Me. #NotInsane

Bonus: What do you wish you had invented?

A better me. Of course I am still a WIP.

————-

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Unreasonable Expectations

I rolled into Slammies one weekday afternoon for a large draught of unreasonable expectations. There she was on the other side of the bar staring me right in the kisser. The only thing to do was to stick to the irrational exuberance script that has served me so well and soldier on.




A decade of Slammies separation meant the woman behind the bar did not recognize me as the regular I once was. Now was not the time to dissuade her. I ordered a pint. There was a CUBS hat on the bartenders head and Chicago CUBS Baseball was on the shiny new multitude of flat screen TV's that now littered the saloon. A far cry from the ancient flickering cathode ray tube corner mounted box that once served as the sports center of this one time corridor of a bar.




On the plus side I could not drink enough pints of unreasonable expectations to have them overtake me as I watched the energetic bartender reach for libations on the top shelve. Each reach exposing more of her well toned reasonably bared daytime mid-drift. Framed in what to me appeared goth inspired basic black attire. Modest but well fitting and well suited for the bars expanded and updated facade.




Her exposed belly bling sparkled and rewarded my irrationally exuberant countenance with a glint of rational promise. Then she rolled up with two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack and said, " I drank too much yesterday and if you don't do a shot with me now I might die."




Her sincerity and my gentlemanly tendencies coaxed an extra exuberant, "Bottoms up!" from me. That was our cue for the ritual downing of the booze. Even fueled by Jack Daniels the unreasonable expectations jet stream would not drag me along today.




He who drinks, then runs away will live to drink another day. Ball game was over and the end of the work day crowd was shuffling in so I bid the bartender ado, tipped her and my hat and out the door I went.




That was the first, but lucky for me, not the last time I would have a JoJo sighting,

Vegan Adventures

One minute I'm having a cold brew at Slammies.

Next thing I know I am in JoJo the bartenders bed.

She is stuffing the business end of a Cauliflower floret with an asparagus spear chaser up my rear.

I didn't know she was a vegan.

Just another early 21st century night.

Expectations

Whenever I feel others are not living up to my expectations,

I immediately review my expectations to see if they are still applicable.

TMI Tuesday: October 18, 2016

TMI Tuesday: October 18, 2016

Posted on October 17, 2016by TMI Tuesday blog

Hello world! Guess what we are talking about this week at TMI Tuesday?

1. Good sex can be something I will be secretly smiling about for years to come at the most inappropriate times imaginable.

2. Let’s talk about sex baby, let’s talk about you in a very flimsy white jumpsuit with nothing else beneath, it's buttons open to your navel, a parachute, and my little Burro Pepe .

3. Being present and accounted for is all about putting pleasure back into sex.

4. Excessive use of pornography can distort expectations of what sex in real life should or could be like.

a. True: If what you want is what politicians , business men (and women), corporations, and advertisers are selling you; might as well jump in bed with what the pornographers are selling as well.

b. False: Very desirable and aesthetically pleasing people with physical forms you may or may not ever share a bed, desk, couch, or pasture with giving you erotic inspirations to share with your beloved ones when appropriate; only furthers a mentoring model for fulfilling our secret desires.

Care to expound?  Clearly define "excessive" for you and your intended partner. Once clarified step right up.

5.Your willingness to communicate verbally as well as physically boosts my sexual performance. The look on your face when you cum loud and long boosts my sexual enjoyment.

Bonus:  What is the last way that you experienced sexual pleasure? Although it was in the missionary position I worked you long, deep, and hard enough for your legs to finally spread wide  enough amid your thigh clenching climaxes for my balls to become coated and slathered from dipping into your savory soup du jour tureen.

————

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblogfrom your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Bonneville Redux.

When I got back to my car both Joy and Reno radiated petulance, but since it was my car and I was doing them a favor I just ignored it. Reno’s house was closest and since they were obviously done neither of them complained about me dropping Reno off first.

When Reno exited I could not help but notice Joy’s very obvious display of indifference to his departure.

It had been a busy night indeed and when Joy climbed over the seat and parked her very pleasing derriere in the front seat I had a feeling it might get busier. Joy was in very tight jeans and the sight of her snug round behind was enticing considering the considerable teasing Bwanna had  given my somewhat awakened and unrequited ardor of the eve.

Joy was at my side now and like a bolt of lightning it struck me. Little did I realize that this lightening would be striking me over and over again for the rest of my life. In between paying close attention to the traffic more and more my eyes drifted to Joy in silhouette at my side. Her long frizzy Janis Joplin hair and large round glasses to match. Soft pleasing features with soft round cheeks, which were often flushed and rosy. I thought how attentive she was to me during rehearsals, in between her crew duties, and scene changes while I was backstage awaiting my cue. It finally made it’s way through my thick skull that she had been spending that time with me and not Reno. Could it be?

We came to a stop light and I looked over at her. In the half dusk of car interior and street lights combo my eyes were drawn from her sweet face down to the parted white blouse and cleavage formed by two immense perfect breasts. Certainly the largest breasts that any woman has sported in that passenger seat while I was driving. Thoughts of Rene’s spare, though quite delectable boob allotment went through my mind. Satisfying, but always left me longing for more substance to maneuver and fondle through our lovemaking. I knew it was just the longing to experience other fruits that made me wonder what abundance well beyond a handful or a mouthful would offer. I had limited experience in various depths and durations with other larger and differing tits. Some pleasing. Some not so much depending on outcomes, situations, temperaments, and availability. But clearly at this point in my life, if my perceptions of Joy’s pheromonal, hormonal, and behavioral signals was correct: a backseat, or front seat encounter with Joys bounty did not seem out of the question. It  would be an extraordinary first for me. But I did not want to make assumptions. Not now. Not ever. Nor did I want to miss out on an experience that could lead to the beginning of something, possibly the end of something else, or if nothing else memories of moments that would warm me in many long cold winters that, if I was lucky, were to come.

I know I was highly charged from my staircase tango with Bwanna, but it was hard to tell if I would be the closing act for the Reno show tonight. As if reading my mind Joy filled in one blank for me.

“Reno is such a jerk!”