Pulse racing, vision narrowing. Nothing around matters but what you see right in front of you. Brow furrows. Biting lip. Faster. Harder. Welcome to perfection. Everything is right. Speed, control, imagery. It all happens perfectly like a well thought out plan, all leading up to one moment. This moment. And suddenly, your hand's a mess, your tunnel vision fades, your pulse plummets and your eyes droop, while your stroke slows drastically, coming to a halt like a train pulling in to a very disappointing station. Now you're back in your room with a fistful of regret and the crushing knowledge that another kitten has been eaten in your honor, and your guardian angel just had another feather plucked.
That's the feeling I have at least once a day. I spent a little time with a slut recently, she was in my room, not for me, but for my roommate. She drank herself stupid and got to the point that she was showing her breasts every couple of seconds to me and the other three guys in the room during our beer pong game. Later in the night, my roommate reported that she would not be letting him into her panties, despite the heavy making out and groping she had been doing with him and one of the other guys in the room. He then told me that instead of going to the other guy's room for a devil's threesome, she would be going to sleep in his bed. In our room. Where there are no doors. This didn't bother me much, because I only wanted to avoid the sex noises disturbing my sleep. Also, my masturbation. Hadn't jacked off once that day, and despite the relative unattractiveness of the slut, I was generally horny. An hour after I fell asleep, I was awakened by a voice repeating the same phrases over and over again.
"I want to sleep with you. No. I want to sleep with you. I'm with Katy. I'm not drunk I'm sober. I want to sleep with you. I'm with Katy..."
This continued for some time, while my patience was worn thin. Apparently, she thought it was a good idea to drunk dial her ex-boyfriend while she was drunk to the point of almost getting double-teamed by two guys she had just met that day. And she thought it was ok to wake up another guy while making that call. I contemplated getting up and punching her in the face. I also contemplated getting up and telling her to "shut the fuck up, he knows you're out slutting it up, he doesn't want you calling him at 4 in the morning."
I chose the latter, and got up from my bed, boxers clad, and walked over to where she was. In the time it took me to get over to where she was, her repetitive phrases had changed from what they were before, to a now, less crazy:
"What if I just come over there? What if I just come over there? I'm coming over there. I'm coming over there, and if you don't open up, I'm fucking your car up. I'm coming over there, and if you don't open up, I'm fucking your car up..." and repeat x3.
At which point, she donned her pants, and stormed out of our room. I stood there in my underwear, and with a confused look on my face, looked back and forth between my roommate, and our recently exited door. He was sitting up smirking a little at my confusion.
"She called her ex." he told me.
at which point I proceeded to the bathroom and got to that masturbation I missed out on, then back to sleep I went.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
The Sock Diaries:10/5/2012
I would like to apologize to all six of my regular readers for the lack of weekly updates on the Diary of Avery Blackman and Sock Diaries. It's been a long week involving overnights and very little computer time. But, now, like Michael Jordan to various sports, I'm back, and doing as good or better as before, or so my agent tells me. And now, the moment you've been waiting for, a grown man writing one of two diaries.
Last night, I had what I would call the craziest dream that I've had in a very, very long time. It started off with me roaming through a city at night with a couple of friends. The streets were lit with the lights from the sky scrapers and street lights, and cars roaming by. I had a brand new phone that I was showing off to a friend, showing him a picture of a really cool statue that I had seen on one of the skyscrapers. As I scrolled, I realized that the picture was 3D, and the statue was moving. We came on the street where the statue resided, and watched as it stepped down from the building, and shrank into a beautiful, girl, around my age, well looking my age, because, I mean, let's be sensible here, it was a statue... girl... thing. Anyway, I started to talk to the statue girl, and she gave me some vague explanation of how some witch allowed her to turn into a person every so often or something, I wasn't paying attention, she had a pretty nice rack on her and a low cut shirt.
Anyway, she and I hit it off while my friends and I headed back to the hotel room we had waiting for us in whatever city my mind had created. On the way, we picked up a painting. Well, actually, we picked up a woman who had just emerged from a painting. I averted my attention for a while from the statue woman, to the painting woman, and flirted with her for a while. We got back to the hotel room, and my two friends hopped in the one giant bed we had in the room, along with the two women who had joined us while I stood up, looking and realizing that suddenly, there was no room for me here. No matter what I had done. Despite the fact that I could have tried a little harder to preserve statue girl's feelings, and maybe cared a little more when painting girl decided to hook up with another guy. Statue girl actually shot me a look of spite before she began tonguing down my friend in the hotel bed that I probably paid for. I never looked back over at painting girl, she didn't really mean very much to me at the time.
I woke up shortly after people started hooking up right in front of me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my subconscious might be trying to tell me something. Maybe the statue girl represents my ex, and how I should probably have tried to preserve her feelings a little more. Maybe the painting girl represents the girl I had a small thing with shortly after my last relationship ended. They both found someone new and now I'm standing here, staring. I think my subconscious is really saying that it's time to move on. No more pain, no more regrets. I will miss them, but I don't want them back. It sucks being alone, but after all I've been through, damn I needed it. I did get the sneaking suspicion that the women coming from a statue and a painting might be a sign that I should probably stop trying to satisfy myself with fake women, like strip clubs and porn... but we'll just jump one hurdle at a time.
Last night, I had what I would call the craziest dream that I've had in a very, very long time. It started off with me roaming through a city at night with a couple of friends. The streets were lit with the lights from the sky scrapers and street lights, and cars roaming by. I had a brand new phone that I was showing off to a friend, showing him a picture of a really cool statue that I had seen on one of the skyscrapers. As I scrolled, I realized that the picture was 3D, and the statue was moving. We came on the street where the statue resided, and watched as it stepped down from the building, and shrank into a beautiful, girl, around my age, well looking my age, because, I mean, let's be sensible here, it was a statue... girl... thing. Anyway, I started to talk to the statue girl, and she gave me some vague explanation of how some witch allowed her to turn into a person every so often or something, I wasn't paying attention, she had a pretty nice rack on her and a low cut shirt.
Anyway, she and I hit it off while my friends and I headed back to the hotel room we had waiting for us in whatever city my mind had created. On the way, we picked up a painting. Well, actually, we picked up a woman who had just emerged from a painting. I averted my attention for a while from the statue woman, to the painting woman, and flirted with her for a while. We got back to the hotel room, and my two friends hopped in the one giant bed we had in the room, along with the two women who had joined us while I stood up, looking and realizing that suddenly, there was no room for me here. No matter what I had done. Despite the fact that I could have tried a little harder to preserve statue girl's feelings, and maybe cared a little more when painting girl decided to hook up with another guy. Statue girl actually shot me a look of spite before she began tonguing down my friend in the hotel bed that I probably paid for. I never looked back over at painting girl, she didn't really mean very much to me at the time.
I woke up shortly after people started hooking up right in front of me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my subconscious might be trying to tell me something. Maybe the statue girl represents my ex, and how I should probably have tried to preserve her feelings a little more. Maybe the painting girl represents the girl I had a small thing with shortly after my last relationship ended. They both found someone new and now I'm standing here, staring. I think my subconscious is really saying that it's time to move on. No more pain, no more regrets. I will miss them, but I don't want them back. It sucks being alone, but after all I've been through, damn I needed it. I did get the sneaking suspicion that the women coming from a statue and a painting might be a sign that I should probably stop trying to satisfy myself with fake women, like strip clubs and porn... but we'll just jump one hurdle at a time.
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