Posts Tagged ‘marathon

27
Apr
16

Not the kind of dick I prefer…

I just sent a demand letter to my ex-spouse.

I’ve never run a marathon, but I think what I am feeling right now might be similar to what someone might feel having just qualified to run Boston – empowered, powerful, free, successful…terrified as hell, sick to your stomach, scared to death by the challenges and hard work that lie ahead.

Yeah, I have butterflies…and not the good kind. I’m walking around the house alternately doing a little dance or fist pump and bending over to hyperventilate. Because I know that I am unleashing the Kraken. I know the other shoe is going to drop. I know he is going to lose his shit. And yet, in my MIND – which much smarter than my stomach, heart and adrenal gland – I KNOW that I have the upper hand. I KNOW that I have a superior bargaining position. I KNOW that I am well within my RIGHTS to protect myself and my finances and NOT allow him to screw me again. Literally or metaphorically. (Especially not with that tiny wiener and wham-bam style!)

During the last four years since we separated, I wanted the term “amicable divorce” to be a real and true fact. I tried my best to honor our marriage and family by not talking shit about my ex and not allowing others to do so either. I defended him, I forgave him and I took a very minimal divorce settlement in order to maintain peace, harmony and family. I made sure to project that image and maintain that cordiality and friendship even during challenging times.

Then he stopped making payments and told me to “have a nice life.”

Then he got served with foreclosure paperwork for the house we still own together.

Then he asked for my help in going together to settle with the bank.

…on a house that I don’t live in.

…for a house I haven’t lived in in 4 years.

….for a man who makes about 6 times as much as I do.

 Oh yes, and could you stop being so childish and asking for silly things like the file and paperwork pertaining to the case? You don’t need that. Why do you need your own attorney? I’m offering to pay for an attorney. Why won’t you answer my 5 phone calls in a row and 8 texts sent before 9:30 am on Saturday? Are you going to continue to be difficult because you are upset?

This is not the kind of dick I prefer!

I worked hard, served my time, put up with a lot, sacrificed and then sacrificed again for the good of my family.

Now I’m going stone cold bitch for the good of myself.

I told him I would be happy to work on the bank settlement with him as soon as he paid me the balance he owes me in cash because his credit is no good with me. Otherwise, I will gleefully drag this out another year then declare bankruptcy and leave him responsible for the full debt, any tax liability that might result from a deficiency being forgiven and substantial attorney fees. I’m told that the bank will not be willing or able to settle the case if I say I want to go to trial.

After nearly three decades of being charmed, bullied or manipulated into doing what this man wanted me to do, it feels really good to put my foot down.

After all, isn’t that how you win a marathon?

Advertisements
17
Mar
13

credit where credit is due

I realize my last several posts have been a bit negative. The evolution of this blog has taught me that this is a great outlet when I’m feeling disciplined to write and share, and also when I’m feeling frustrated, lonely, snarky or am simply enjoying some solo time. However, when things are nice, fun, interesting, delicious, hot and I’m spending a lot of time in bed? Well, the best I can do is a quick tweet. (#risquedivorcee) When I’m getting goodly fucked, I’m not blogging. Subsequently, you guys are missing the good stuff and getting only the complaints. I think you should dump me. I’m a selfish whore.

No, baby, baby – I promise I’ll change! I’ll be good! You’ll like it from now on, I promise! I’ll do all those things you like!

Credit where credit is due – with R30 on Monday night…well, Tuesday morning. This was the guy that picked me up and pushed it pretty hard at the casino around 12:30am. I was seriously grubby and he was enraptured and kept calling me beautiful. His pitch was so strangely desperate – like he was overwhelmed by me and couldn’t possibly let me go without convincing me to date him, fuck him or let him give me a massage – that I actually wondered at its legitimacy. I was sort of waiting for his friends to show up and laugh or something sinister like that. But we exchanged numbers as well as kisses, despite his rather odd “used car salesman” pitches and his slightly effeminate manner. If I had to label, I would say that this guy was a pure cougar fan. Turns out, as indicated above, he’s 30.

Eventually, his buddies texted that they were leaving and he left me. A few minutes later, he came back, saying that they weren’t leaving yet and that he just wanted to spend a few more moments with me. We’d more or less made a date for the following night and it was quite late – like around 2am. He left again and I got up, stretched and moved to another machine at the casino. I was about ready to leave, but was on a winning streak and just enjoying playing a bit on their money. Then I got a text from him.

His friends and some girls are going to smoke out and drink at some lake that’s not too far from where I live. Would I like to come and hang out with him? Well, first, going to strange, secluded places with a bunch of men in the middle of the night is just an invitation for gang rape. Plus it’s late, it’s pissing rain and it’s cold. Why would I go to a lake – even if I was looking cute and more awake? I politely decline, saying that I am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. He persists – can I just meet him at Shari’s for pancakes? He wants to spend more time with me. Well, that’s sweet and far less dangerous, but I’m not hungry and it’s nearing 3am now. Plus, how would that work? The logistics are confusing as he and his pals all rode together. Turns out he’s at home and has his own car now. Can we meet someplace and just talk?

Fuck it. He’s turned me on, he’s promised me a massage and it’s been almost two weeks since I had sex. I tell him to meet me at my place and I start driving. He’s driving right behind me, so I only have about 10 minutes to set the scene, have a little whore bath, put my hair in a ponytail, brush my teeth & put on sexy underwear and a robe. He’s at my door in no time. It’s almost 4am. I let him in and we kiss.

It took me awhile to realize that this guy is actually probably a bit of a sub. That could be what was up with the vibe I was picking up from him. But I’ve decided that since he offered the massage and since he has good hands, that I will enjoy the slow, languid, sexy massage that I hope to get. And he wants to do it – he wants to serve me and be my slave. We start making out and I lead him to the bedroom that is bathed in dim light and has a towel and massage oil close at hand – along with condoms, naturally.

R30 is very sweet and almost gentlemanly in the moves that he makes. He asks my permission to untie my robe. I let him. He practically faints at the sight of my body in the hot undies. He gasps, he pants, he tells me that I have a beautiful body. He asks if he can touch me. He asks if it’s okay, if it feels good. I say yes because it does. We kiss more, I let him rub me, he asks if he can touch my breasts. Oh god, you had better! But don’t hurt my pretty bra! He’s rubbing, kissing, sucking, licking, blowing (he’s got some lick then blow cold air on thing that he does – doesn’t really do it for me, but I get what you’re trying to do I guess.) He tells me to lie down. I’m just in my boy-short panties. He gasps at my ass and asks if he can touch it. He gets out the oil and rubs me in a very sensual massage. Before turning attention to my ass and other areas, he decides that my feet are cute and that he needs to rub my toes. He asks if that’s okay. Yes. Oh, wow – he’s going to suck them too. That’s only the second time that’s ever happened in my life. My brain thinks that the whole toe-sucking practice is gross but my twat thinks it’s really fucking hot and responds with a rushing river of wet.

Speaking of my pink parts, he finally got there – again, after asking permission – and when I was on display for him, breathlessly offered: “my God, that’s so beautiful.” You have to love such adoration and appreciation! All this was such a delight, but what he did with his tongue, hands & fingers was nothing short of amazing. I’ve had a few men who loved to eat pussy and get all up in there, but this guy took the cake. I think I still have bruises on my pelvis from his face crushing into my lady business. Eventually, after I had come a fair few times, we eventually relieved him of his pants and I found that he was endowed like a soup can. Oh yeah, I can work with that. Seriously, the girth was about that of a can of Campbell’s chunky style and the length possibly a bit more. Oh lucky, lucky me.

As part of the sales pitch that my new friend had offered earlier – he asked me “how long I could go” mentioning that he was a marathoner and could go back-to-back multiple times. Given that we started at 4am and he still had to go pick up his friends after their party, I didn’t expect a full demonstration, particularly because he mentioned that he probably only had an hour or so. He had also warned that it had been awhile for him so the first time would probably be quick but the second would be better. I fully expected him to “get a text” after the first quickie and run, but after all the fine, fine attention I had already received I wasn’t about to complain.

As it turned out, the first time was fantastic. The only problem was that he was slamming into me so violently that he would occasionally pop out because of his somewhat short length. I think we tried every possible position. After he came he was right back at me – keeping me warmed up for the next round that happened pretty quickly – especially after I gave him what he later referred to as “the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life.” I also demonstrated my trick of applying a condom with my mouth. He was shocked, amazed, stunned and curious. I just explained that it’s a great way to keep a guy from losing wood while putting the condom on. So impressed was he that he asked me to do it again when we went in for round three. By that time both of us were flagging as it was after 6:30am and we had just had a mini-marathon of sex for almost three hours straight without stopping.

I’ve had a few texts from him since – one with a dick pic – and there was some talk about getting together today. I haven’t heard from him yet, but maybe I ought to take a nap just in case! 😉




Categories

Quickies with the Risqué Divorcée!

  • Facebook "It looks like you're at Burger King. Check in to share with your friends." Me: shut the fuck up, Facebook! 1 year ago
  • RT @amyisprettycool: Ok, who wrote the Melissa McCarthy as Sean Spicer #SNL sketch because they just made America great again 1 year ago
  • RT @LuvPug: My husband thinks it's so cute when I speak to him with terms of endearment like 'honey' or 'cockblocker' 1 year ago
  • RT @joss: To everyone who keeps saying "Go back to making jokes/films/etc", WHAT DO YOU THINK WE WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING 1 year ago
  • RT @miel: reminder: our president's mother was an immigrant. his wife is an immigrant. this. is. about. race. 1 year ago
Advertisements