Good news! Spring semester 2008 is officially two weeks behind me!!! As most of my little domination phone sex bitches know, that means I’m available without having to necessarily arrange a call. Check out the about me section of my page to see the days and times I’m around each week.
Bad news…
My best friend with benefits/sometimes roommate left this morning to go back home for the summer. I love my “Lex”; she such a hot little bitch. Seriously, it’s like fucking the 5′8″, blonde,green-eyed version of myself. I’m not above admiting that I like certain people and want them around me simply because they serve as a reference point for some of the things I love about myself.
Yes, I’m a girl-prick for saying something like that. No, I sleep at night just fine and somehow manage to drop a dollar or two in the Salvation Army kettles around the holidays too. She’s the best friend I’ve probably ever had but I do have a few issues with her.
She swears we’re the same size, when she’s really about a Banana Republic size 4. Vanity sizing victimization is so real and so sad! She’s stretched so many of my things beyond recoginition. She, her dad, or the main guy she usually hooks up with always pay for what she ruins so it’s not entirely a huge deal. I don’t know what she gets out of having a closet full of my pre-worn size 0 and 2’s that’s she’s mangled and stretched to fit her. Oh well, it’s not for me to understand I guess. I just hope she doesn’t eventually turn into this. Sometimes all you can do is hope…
She’s also HUGE on proximity play and is such an attention whore. If we’re out shopping, eating, clubbing, whatever and she sees a guy or group of guys…she’s ALL over me. It doesn’t matter if the guys is actually fuckable or fugly, she’s a little too happy to display her girl on girl-friendliness!
Ok, it’s fun…sometimes…most of the time. We were in Phipps a few months ago waiting in line at the sushi place. We were giggling at this old couple in front of us: 40-ish, your classic example of a marriage with strong stockholm syndrome overtones.
The wife was loudly going on and on about stuff that wouldn’t matter to anyone not named Jesus. I still think that the Word made Flesh and any of his hispanic namesakes might have a hard time being around this woman for longer than 5 minutes. The second the hostage would try to add something to the conversation, the wife would pretty much ignore him and keep her little monologue going. It was pretty annoying. Eventually, she told him to wait there while she found a restroom, and told him to hold her bag. I could see the sides of his face crinkle into up into a pretty decent grin. I’m not sure why he started smiling after being forced to hold something that couldn’t even pass for one of those gay little manbags. Maybe he was glad for just a few moments of peace or he may have been genuinely happy to hold his warden’s bag. I only had one thought on my mind, “why would anyone go to a restroom and not take her bag with her?!!!” Especially since it was one of these !!
Lex and I were talking about how amazing it was, when the hostage turned around told us that it was the ugliest thing he’d ever spent half a mortgage payment on. My first thought was, “Oh wow, it speaks?!!!” Then I started thinking about how sad it is to see a man whose life is half over with, still trying to impress two girls he’d never met with something that belonged to his wife!! To get all poetic, it’s like he had fallen on both sides of the front of the obvious civil war going on within himself. He tried to sound so smug as he casually tried to, no in any way at all subtle, let us know just how much financial girth he was working with. On the other hand, the poor guy obviously had fallen into a foxhole he probably never imagined himself in twenty or thirty years ago. Middle-Aged and trying to act like the guy with it all, while holding the most feminine(it’s got fairies on it!!) of fetish objects.
We talked to him for a little bit more, just slightly less inane stuff than his wife was spewing. He asked us if we’d like to go ahead of him since there were only a few people left before it was his turn to order and he wanted to wait until his wife came back. Guess he knew better than to order for her :D.
As soon as we stepped in front of him, Lex reached around my waist and rested her hand on my hip. She looked back in his direction and told him she hoped his wife wasn’t going to keep him waiting too much longer. At the same time, she snaked her finger along the waistband of my skirt. She took her time finding my g-string and tugged gently at it until part of the thin, silk material was more than clearly visible over the top of the waistband. I let a few of her eager fingers dip as far down the front as possible. See?!! Such an attention whore!! When I felt her fingers start to appreciate the awesome job the esthetician did on my wax, I was inspired by the same sort of charitable spirit, as when I toss a few dollars into the previously mentioned Salvation Army kettle. I turned to the side to give our new, middle-aged friend a little peek.
I enjoyed the tease and denial game Lex started and I’m guessing the hostage did too because he held his wife’s bag right in front of the hint of a bulge that he didn’t cover up quickly enough before we both saw. I asked him which color he likes better, magenta or fuchsia. Of course he didn’t know the difference. I explained to him that my panties were magenta. Then I cupped Lex’s ass with my hand, and slowly mimicked the same method she used to show him mine. I didn’t get the chance to give him a peek at what fuchsia looks like, because the warden came back!! The look on his face when I told him that maybe he’d like to have his place in line back because his wife/warden had come back? Well let’s just say that it was worth a million Prada fairy bags!! Oh well, guess he’ll have to learn his colors some other time. I’m sure he became pretty familiar with one in particular that day…
Speaking of…
Here’s a bit philosophy for the chronically aroused and unrelieved dick stroking sluts. If your balls go unreleased, does your sexual frustration ever make a “sound”? I’m sure our plaything at Phipps that day will forever equate the sound of his wife’s heels with the ruin of what would have probably been the most interesting day he’d ever had in his life. Another few minutes and he probably thought we would have exchanged numbers and had lots of interesting days. Not even close, but I like to give guys like that hope. Sometimes, a little charity and hope is all any of us has to hold onto.
Be the best or sit down, shut up and beg to watch someone who is….
Mfs.(Princess) Kara
