All That He Could See
Dec. 16th, 2016 02:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thepnutgalleryNightmares all night, horrific trouble sleeping, almost called out. No one has explained to me the 8 hours of "personal time" I get and lose every year. I get about 4 weeks of PTO each year between sick days and vacation, to say nothing of getting every court holiday, so I'm not terribly worried. Updates on my phone are upsettingly slow. Midnight last night it updated that it was "in transit." Thanks, USPS, for that informative heads up.
Finally got to the store, bought a bunch of stuff I shouldn't have. Cleaned up my room a little, did the dishes. Mail finally arrived, but no phone. I did get an update that it was in San Diego, so I suppose it'll be delivered some time tomorrow. Messaged a few people about going out, though somewhere in my head, I knew I'd be going solo. Only FHA responded. Mitch didn't, and I happened to see Matt on Scruff next to him. Man, that crack in my phone is working overtime, because now everything is hazy. Apparently they didn't go to DILF, though, because Matt needs to go to the gym. I'd like to write how I dragged myself out because I'm a Big Boy who's quite capable of going to events alone. And that's true, but that's the hiking equipment that lets me scale the mountain. Sexual FOMO and the need for validation is the nebulous, razor-tentacled Thing hungrily chasing me up. Off we go then.
My stomach was a little grumbly, but I figured I wouldn't get fucked at the Plaid Party, since it was a mixed crowd, and I could swing home before DILF and get cleaned up. The party was in full swing when I got there, and I was greeted, not by Miss Rose at the door, but our friend, a puppy. Well, damn. If I'd known there were going to be dogs here, I'd have been here a lot sooner! I was there about an hour and a half after the party started, though, so I only saw Josh on his way out, and everyone else was fairly squeaked already. Keagan's husband, Chris, might not have been squeaked, but you can't really tell with him. Brandon, one of the hosts, was the squeakiest, and his roommate might have been hitting on me...or might have just been giving her seal of approval, because Brandon wants me. Mostly, of course, I spent *a lot* of time with the puppy, Tessa. Her owners are super cool, roommates with Brandon, and going to Vegas in March and want me to dog sit. Tessa was apparently surprisingly friendly and close with me, sitting next to me on the couch and leaning in, even though I didn't have any food for her. And she rolled over for belly rubs just as I was leaving. Oh, alright. 5 more minutes. Brandon was going to come to DILF with me, but 1) more people kept arriving, and 2) he was super squeaked.
Back home, my stomach still felt weird, but I was definitely clean. This whole Matt thing has me thinking more externally, but in what is arguably not a good way. Not a sustainable way, anyway. Opted for my footy pajamas for DILF, because it's cute and warm while still being easy access. Just as I was getting ready to leave, though, George hit me up. We flirted for a long time, but then I got with Julian, and it never picked back up again. On the one hand, I could probably go to DILF and get fucked by a bunch of guys, get my picture taken in a clever, adorable outfit and have it plastered all over social media. On the other, I've been after this check mark for a long time, and if that grumbly feeling in my stomach got worse, I'd have no recourse once I got to the bar. Also money, though I'd have spent maybe $20 there.
George was naked from the waist down when I got there, which is a look I've always found weirdly hot. And he has little finches in a parrot cage, which is essentially a mansion for them. He was a little tipsy, and stopped our conversation with me naked sitting on his lap to point out his favorite part of a song that was coming up. We don't have anywhere near the same taste in music, but we're similarly affected by it. Then he fucked me with his massive massive cock (about 8" or so, and insanely thick), we took a break and talked about animals, and porn, and boundaries, and connections in sex, and drugs, etc. He's a big hung bear version of me, and kept saying I was gorgeous, and occasionally that he loves me. Really, outside of the physical differences, we're mostly different in that he can't do groups. Even 3 ways, because he can't stop focusing on one person to connect with. He fucked me again, asked me to cum for him, and I agreed. Partly because it was so late (almost 3am by now), and partly because he was so big, I actually couldn't at first. Oh, and also because I don't like doing it. I finally did, though, and shot all over his face. We chatted more after, and he asked me to spend the night, but understood and laughed when I said I had to get home to my cat. And also said I looked adorable in my footy pajamas, insisted I leave his place with the back flap down.
Julian had been sending me hateful messages all night, but I didn't bother to read them. I only saw the last bit of the last one: "I love you but I hate you." Um...since day one. Where have you been?
Finally got to the store, bought a bunch of stuff I shouldn't have. Cleaned up my room a little, did the dishes. Mail finally arrived, but no phone. I did get an update that it was in San Diego, so I suppose it'll be delivered some time tomorrow. Messaged a few people about going out, though somewhere in my head, I knew I'd be going solo. Only FHA responded. Mitch didn't, and I happened to see Matt on Scruff next to him. Man, that crack in my phone is working overtime, because now everything is hazy. Apparently they didn't go to DILF, though, because Matt needs to go to the gym. I'd like to write how I dragged myself out because I'm a Big Boy who's quite capable of going to events alone. And that's true, but that's the hiking equipment that lets me scale the mountain. Sexual FOMO and the need for validation is the nebulous, razor-tentacled Thing hungrily chasing me up. Off we go then.
My stomach was a little grumbly, but I figured I wouldn't get fucked at the Plaid Party, since it was a mixed crowd, and I could swing home before DILF and get cleaned up. The party was in full swing when I got there, and I was greeted, not by Miss Rose at the door, but our friend, a puppy. Well, damn. If I'd known there were going to be dogs here, I'd have been here a lot sooner! I was there about an hour and a half after the party started, though, so I only saw Josh on his way out, and everyone else was fairly squeaked already. Keagan's husband, Chris, might not have been squeaked, but you can't really tell with him. Brandon, one of the hosts, was the squeakiest, and his roommate might have been hitting on me...or might have just been giving her seal of approval, because Brandon wants me. Mostly, of course, I spent *a lot* of time with the puppy, Tessa. Her owners are super cool, roommates with Brandon, and going to Vegas in March and want me to dog sit. Tessa was apparently surprisingly friendly and close with me, sitting next to me on the couch and leaning in, even though I didn't have any food for her. And she rolled over for belly rubs just as I was leaving. Oh, alright. 5 more minutes. Brandon was going to come to DILF with me, but 1) more people kept arriving, and 2) he was super squeaked.
Back home, my stomach still felt weird, but I was definitely clean. This whole Matt thing has me thinking more externally, but in what is arguably not a good way. Not a sustainable way, anyway. Opted for my footy pajamas for DILF, because it's cute and warm while still being easy access. Just as I was getting ready to leave, though, George hit me up. We flirted for a long time, but then I got with Julian, and it never picked back up again. On the one hand, I could probably go to DILF and get fucked by a bunch of guys, get my picture taken in a clever, adorable outfit and have it plastered all over social media. On the other, I've been after this check mark for a long time, and if that grumbly feeling in my stomach got worse, I'd have no recourse once I got to the bar. Also money, though I'd have spent maybe $20 there.
George was naked from the waist down when I got there, which is a look I've always found weirdly hot. And he has little finches in a parrot cage, which is essentially a mansion for them. He was a little tipsy, and stopped our conversation with me naked sitting on his lap to point out his favorite part of a song that was coming up. We don't have anywhere near the same taste in music, but we're similarly affected by it. Then he fucked me with his massive massive cock (about 8" or so, and insanely thick), we took a break and talked about animals, and porn, and boundaries, and connections in sex, and drugs, etc. He's a big hung bear version of me, and kept saying I was gorgeous, and occasionally that he loves me. Really, outside of the physical differences, we're mostly different in that he can't do groups. Even 3 ways, because he can't stop focusing on one person to connect with. He fucked me again, asked me to cum for him, and I agreed. Partly because it was so late (almost 3am by now), and partly because he was so big, I actually couldn't at first. Oh, and also because I don't like doing it. I finally did, though, and shot all over his face. We chatted more after, and he asked me to spend the night, but understood and laughed when I said I had to get home to my cat. And also said I looked adorable in my footy pajamas, insisted I leave his place with the back flap down.
Julian had been sending me hateful messages all night, but I didn't bother to read them. I only saw the last bit of the last one: "I love you but I hate you." Um...since day one. Where have you been?
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