Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Honeymoon Is Over
After weeks and weeks and weeks of getting laid on a regular basis... it looks like the honeymoon is finally over. I finally had to throw Derek's ass out. Don't get me wrong, we're not broken up or anything - I just couldn't stand him constantly parking his butt at MY place every night. I mean, it was totally convenient to have him there when I wanted to get laid (which was pretty damn often I'm embarrassed to admit, but you can't blame me after my year long dry spell) but it was the after wards that got to me.
I've never been one for cuddling or pillow talk so it was totally irritating that he was still there in the morning. EVERY morning. Heck, I could have tolerated 4 nights a week, but he planted himself here every night about a month into the honeymoon phase.
So now he's at his place and our current agreement is 1 weekday night and 1 weekend night. Plus, I get the option of any night at his place - as long as I can tolerate his roomies . They're OK, but I'm not dating them.
But the good news is that now I'll have way more time to write! I have to admit that I kinda missed the luxury of coming home after a particularly trying day at work and have the ability to just spill my guts about it to the computer. With Derek here, I couldn't exactly do that.
But with him around all the time, I had to talk about things in a sort of coded generic way:
"Today was a waste" = tips sucked
"I'm exhausted" = Don't even think of asking for a handjob
"My 2 o'clock was a total bitch" = He tried to cum in my hair
"I need a shower" = I smell like semen
"I'm paying for drinks!" = I had a breast release today
"I'm paying for dinner!" = I had 2 breast releases, a mutual, and a foot fetish guy
"Cindy had a good day" = I could hear her fucking a guy in the room
"Maude was in a mood" = Maude was in a mood
It's amazing how writing on a regular basis about work acted as a kind of therapy for me. It calms me down, and helps me put things in perspective. I mean, there were days when I would come home literally shaking with anger, and after a few minutes of writing about it I would start to feel better. With Derek around I had to rely on a more mundane form of therapy - getting laid.
Hmmmmmmmm... type on a computer or fuck my brains out?
Oh shit... Derek - Come back!