Happy Halloween!

Yet another example of the fact that when I lose my virginity in my dreams I turn into a hoe. Lovely. (Reminder: this is ONLY A DREAM…but a damned good/weird one)

“See, you underestimated me. I wasn’t just going to ignore you, I would tell you that I want to kiss you hard until you’re panting and then I would sit you on my fingers and fuck you with them.”

I was in a room of guys, and it was the guy with the curly hair who had answered my rhetorical question seeking a compliment, because the Queen of England (whose room I happened to be staying in) was not particularly enthralled with me and I was feeling very gauche.

How does one respond to someone so blatantly sexual, while surrounded by a room of guys. No one spoke, and I had two choices—I could laugh and ignore the comment, or I could call his bluff. “All, right. Prove it. Everyone else, out.”

Curly-haired guy smiled seductively as the rest of the guys left the room, semi-reluctantly, and then dragged me over to the bed, his mouth descending on mine and sweeping his tongue along mine, teasing, until I was panting. Until I was practically scrambling for it.

Luckily, because it was a dream my pants automatically turned into a skirt—always convenient—and curly-haired guy made me straddle his thighs as he sat on the bed. His fingers found my wet slit, unerringly and he proceeded to do as he’d promised…

Unfortunately, my dreams never tend to end in orgasm, so SCENE CHANGE.

The doctor was standing over me. “I told Slick about you, and he said he wants a piece as soon as I’m finished here.” I nodded my agreement and lay naked with my feet up in stirrups, as the doctor coated his medical-gloved fingers in lube and plunged into my pussy with them.

I couldn’t help it, I moaned out. He then made me turn over onto my knees and continued to work his fingers in and out of my cunt. He stood at my side as he did this, and looked at my breasts swaying back and forth as I pushed back against his fingers pressing at my g-spot. “Look at this sweet, little breasts. I want to taste them.” He proceeded to coat his other hand with lube and spread it over my right breast.

And right about the time he tried to kiss my mouth, after squirting a bunch of lube into his mouth, my sexual buzz was killed and I woke up.

WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THE SEX DREAMS? And what is with the lube in the mouth? I woke up gagging—and unfortunately didn’t finish myself off, because I was really grossed out.

The medical fetish doesn’t really do much for me (and even less after I read that it sometimes goes as far as amputation and not just the fun doctor/nurse thing), so I don’t know where the gyno-exam thing came from. It was definitely bordering more on the creepy than the sexy in that scenario.

But that particular part of things repeated themselves with the “Slick said he wants a piece…,” but it was someone else who wanted a piece the first time. And I agreed both times. This is probably where my minor fear that I will turn into a sex addict, once I lose my virginity, comes from.

Damn.

TMI Tuesday

Well, this isn't an actual TMI. This weeks TMI was a little too direct to having had sex--not exactly virgin-friendly if you'd like to put it like that. So, since I haven't done it in awhile I'll do more of the 101 Random Facts About Me. So, here's 10 more! (See 1-10, 11-20, and 21-30 by clicking at the links).

1. I like affectionate guys who aren’t afraid to hug me when they see me, or kiss me when they want to. I don’t love long, lingering PDA make-out sessions on bus stop benches, but a hard kiss previewing what is to come, when we finally get alone, is delightful.
2. I love kissing and making out. I haven’t kissed a ton of guys, and unfortunately most of them were not good kissers—but one great kiss or make-out session can make up for a lot of the wrongs of kissing done in the past.
3. I don’t really believe much in astrology, but I am a classic Aquarius—sexually adventurous and lusty, loyal, friendly, and prone to falling in love with my guy friends. It’s almost sad how predictable some of my traits are from looking at a general Aquarian description.
4. I think I come off a lot stupider than I actually am most of the time. I tend to babble at random, and at length, about nothing in particular. I don’t know if that means I’m vapid or it means that I just speak too fast for my mind to catch up.
5. I can simultaneously be known as the Comic Relief and the Mother of my group of friends…I don’t mind the former but I hate the latter and have been throwing that title off to whoever wants it ever since my sophomore year of college.
6. I might only be 23, but sometimes I feel like thirty is coming a little too fast for me.
7. I love to dance. Throw on some hip-hop and I am a happy camper. I don’t even need alcohol.
8. A guy that I knew from law school and I had never really hung out before, but did at the end of the school year last year, with a bunch of people. He danced with me a few times and when Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” came on the speakers, I was ready to sit it out, but he made me get back on the floor and said, “You have to! This is your song!” It was probably one of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten.
9. I have a girl-crush on Shakira and Kate Winslet.
10. I wondered for a while if I wasn’t bisexual. Never a lesbian (see #22, in section 21-30), but I sort of like watching girl-on-girl porn, and it’s hot to hear and see a woman orgasm. I don’t think I am bi-sexual, but I still think girl-on-girl is hot. Although, I also think guy-on-guy is hot too.

I was a very naughty girl today and didn't go to class AT ALL. And today is my longest day...I'm trying to figure out what to have for lunch/dinner. I'm going to run to the store. I actually blame watching The Holiday last night for my total desire for fettuccini alfredo at the moment. They were eating it on the show last night and it looked utterly delightful.

Ewwww...I'm watching Extreme Ghost Stories on WE Network. I'm kind of freaking out. I really need to stop.

Okay, now I'm just traumatized. I switched the channel and Charlton Heston shot a baby polar bear in the movie Alaska.

It is just not my day for TV. (oh wait! Not enough tranquilizer, the polar bear woke up and attacked him!---yay!)

I'm Looking for Some Corny in my Life

So, I am a complete sap. I am watching the end of The Holiday, starring Kate Winslet, Jude Law, Cameron Diaz, and Jack Black. It came out last year or the year before. Really cute movie, I actually like it better the more times I see it (and can I just say--how the fuck does Cameron Diaz run through snow in three-inch stilettos?). Of course, I really need no other reason to get into the Christmas spirit two months beforehand, but that's beside the point.

I so just cried from this movie. Not because the love stories are so delectable--although they are pretty cute--but because there is an old man who has a co-starring role and gets an award for his contributions to film. He is sort of a hermit, feeling his own mortality and not really feeling like he has tons of friends, and when the door opens to the auditorium to people clapping for the old man I totally burst into tears. Shut up! It was sweet!

I don't exactly agree with some of Jude Law's choices in real life, but I think I like this role of his best. He's far too sweet. And I LOVE Kate Winslet...I think if I were going to be with a woman, I would want it to be her. I feel like she'd keep me laughing and comfortable the whole time.

Whoa, that was a whole other kind of tangent. I am just thinking out loud...so I thought I'd write it down.

Something Wicked This Way Comes...

Has anyone else just not been into Halloween this year? Maybe it’s because it’s on a Wednesday this year, which is about the most awful day for Halloween that I’ve ever heard of. Normally I’m a big Halloween fan. I actually like Christmastime better overall (see previous post to see how much of a Christmas lover I am—even months before the fact—you should probably fear me after Thanksgiving (US), it will be insane), but Halloween has always been a close second. Not so this year. I just cannot get into it.

We had our Halloween party, which was really fun, but I literally came up with a costume four hours before the party. And it ended up changing ten minutes before I left because my mom told me that I didn’t actually look like the witch I aimed for—but like Little Red Riding Hood. So, I went as LRRH (ooh…I just got an HNT idea…we’ll see if that works out).

I was always kind of a dork around Halloween—planning for weeks, buying crazy contact lenses (yellow/red flame-like ones one year, white-out contacts last year—those really freaked some people out) and generally just spending weeks sort of sketching out plans—although I’ve almost always been a vampire for the last six years.

I just don’t really care this year. Even my mom hasn’t bought candy for trick-of-treaters. That’s probably good, because we don’t have tons of kids in our neighborhood and we invariably end up buying too much and thus eating even to get the stomachaches those little kids should be getting. I think we might be dark this year.

Maybe I should watch Interview with a Vampire of some old Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes (yep, I was a complete Scooby Gang geek…I have about four seasons of Buffy on DVD). I may even have to delve into The Others. Maybe not

All right, I’ll admit it…I am absolutely, positively, terrifyingly afraid of horror movies. My friend from school, who was in Rome (by the way—as a follow up, I can finally stand to be around him…don’t know if I’ve mentioned that), tried to convince me to see Hostel II. Haha, yeah right. I can manage vampires and werewolves without a problem—and because I’ve read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley about half a dozen times (no, not a favorite—English professors are just obsessed with horror…and sex) I can deal with those movies. But you get me around ghosts and serial killers? I won’t sleep for days. Not kidding…days. I saw The Ring when I was babysitting my brother’s dogs, in college, and despite sleeping with the lights on and the dogs in the bed with me I couldn’t sleep for three days. I’ve finally see The Others enough times that I’m not as scared of it as I normally would be. Even the Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer movies scare the piss out of me.

I blame the ghost thing, at least partially, on Paige. When we were in high school, for the first time, she told me that she had seen a ghost when she was little. She said she was about seven or so, and they had just moved into their house and were painting the doors so they were off the hinges. She woke up and it was pitch black (Flagstaff, AZ defines “pitch black” when there is no moon—streetlights interfere with the observatory, so those are minimal), and when she looked at her door there was a woman standing there in old, around Victorian-era garb. Not really nice garb, she has realized since, but sort of like what maids are pictured wearing. The woman didn’t say anything but she was sort of illuminated and opaque. The woman just walked away.

All right, she was seven, no biggie—still scared me half to death—but it didn’t stop there. She and I lived together for two years in college and at random her radio would go, the TV would turn to fuzz, and door would shut of their own volition. I didn’t see the TV thing happen, but I heard the radio go on by itself—even though it was the middle of the day and no where near the time for the alarm. She called me one day during a winter break (so she was in Flagstaff and I was home in Minnesota) and told me she was a little freaked out. I asked her why and she asked me to listen when she lifted the phone away from her ear. So, I did and I heard what sounded like a basketball being bounced on carpet, a real dull thud over and over again. I, really reluctantly this time, asked if anyone was home besides her. She said, “No.” She was fairly nonchalant, but I could tell she was definitely freaked. It had been going on for about an hour, so I told her to leave and go to her friend’s house. Finally, she did.

The worst times though, were during summer break between frosh and sophomore years. She had put her bed at home up on the risers that we used during school (just plastic “feet” that lift the bed up about four or fives more inches—for extra storage). She was reading Harry Potter, and suddenly her bed dropped. She was sure the risers had just given way (she had a twin bed at home too, so it wasn’t the extra weight of a bigger bed), but when she went to adjust it, all the risers were completely moved, standing upright, sitting about six inches in from the bed posts in a perfect square. I thought that was bad, but she had another experience with her ghost a week later. Her cat was freaking out and wanted to be let out of her room so she got up to let the cat out and shut the door. A few seconds later, the cat was scratching to get back in and when Paige opened the door she saw her “mom” standing in door of the master bedroom in a long nightshift, trying to get the cat to come to her. The cat bolted back into Paige’s room and Paige said good-night to her mom, who didn’t respond.

She thought the lack of response was weird enough that she asked her mom in the morning if she’d been wearing a nightgown the night before—her mom told her she didn’t have a nightgown and had been wearing shorts and a T-shirt. When Paige thought back on it, she realized she couldn’t have really mistook the lady for her mom, because the nightgown was sort of an old-style…Victorian, maybe?

Paige freaks me the hell out she knows, so she tries not to tell me stories anymore. I have an utter morbid curiosity sometimes for those stories, but most of the time I lose sleep.
So that’s your ghost story for Halloween. I’m just ready for Halloween to be over and to start on Thanksgiving and then CHRISTMAS! (no, seriously I’m going to be crazy after Thanksgiving)

The Awakening...

As per my previous blog entry, it should be fairly common knowledge that I went to a Halloween party last night (yes, a full 6 days before Halloween), and got home around 3am. Because of my obsession with Blogger (no, really), I checked my blog for a bit and posted the final installment (totally spelled that wrong in the previous entry).

I woke up at 7:30 to meet the Furnace guy. He left by nine, and I went back to sleep. I literally just woke up twenty minutes ago. Here's the weird thing, a) I don't think I've slept this late since college, even staying up till 4 or 5 am. I feel like a load. And b) I woke up at 11am for one brief moment--this is the interesting part:

What the hell is up with the sex dreams? Not that I mind, mind you, but this morning I was sitting on the floor of this really immaculate bedroom, chatting with a guy. I don't know who the guy is, he had a vague familiarity, but still wasn't quite right either. Anyway, we didn't actually have sex (*sighs from the gallery*). But, we were on our way to it. We were sitting fairly close, flirting and touching fairly innocently. I gave him "the look" and he placed his hand on my knee, moving it very slowly inward, until he was about four inches from my jean-covered pussy. Then he simply made circles on my jeans with his thumb.

I'm not fucking kidding, my pussy pounded so hard it woke me up. It's probably the closest I've ever come to a wet dream, where I actually came in real life as well as the dream.

Woo, I'm still getting a little hot thinking about it. I wonder if it's the after effects of the chivalry from last night...I have to admit to you, dear readers, that I sort of wanted to take Sweetie Pie on the floor last night. He's just so adorable. That isn't normally a prerequisite for sexual relations for me, but I'm kind of thinking I have a minor crush on him. Luckily I don't do crushes in the overpowering way I used to, so it's only a passing fancy and really only comes out when I actually see him in person and talk to him--fairly rare occasion actually.

PS Operator Finis

Tonight was our law school's annual Bar Review Halloween Party (bar review is not for the Bar Exam--instead we examine the inside of a glass). I realized I know a lot of very gentlemenly men actually, which is so greatly appreciated, because I have known a lot of guys that think if they are not interested in getting into a girl's pants there is really no reason to act chivalrously. I wanted to kiss my friend BG, who was in Rome with me, for being so sweet and refusing to let me help pay for the cab when I offered money. And I DID kiss (the cheek of) Sweetie Pie for just being a sweetheart all around. Mainly I wanted to lay a big red smacking kiss on someone's cheek and he was definitely the best candidate. It was damned fun, and I was Little Red Riding Hood...gone bad, of course, because what else is Halloween about if not slightly hoe-ish dressing up?

This is the last installment of one of my sex scenes from my book. No mas after this. View the previous stallments at Part 1 and Part 2 (it seriously won't make sense if you don't--actually, it will still make sense, but the other parts will just help you a little more with the story). I decided it was too hard to read in the smaller print and block-quoted, so hopefully this will be better.

Jack focused his gaze on Katie’s, watching as her eyes widened and her breathing deepened. Each movement of her hips, grinding on him, brushed her breasts against his arm, and each time she guided his hand over his cock he could only hope that he wouldn’t explode before he could watch her come.

He spoke to her, goading her, hoping to satisfy his impatience. “Do you want me inside you Katie? Will you come for me when I’m inside you?” Her hips moved faster, grinding down on him, squirming and writhing against him, more wetness seeping from her body onto his leg. “Hitting just that right spot. Rubbing your clit for you. Fucking you, like you’re fucking my leg. Will you squeeze my cock and milk me ‘til I come…”

“Ooh, god! Jack! Jack! Yes! Fuck me, Jack!” Her body convulsed on him, shaking and bearing down on his leg as she came against him, screaming his name—just like she said she would. She pumped him hard with her hand, and Jack felt his control slipping.

And then she bit him. Her teeth grazing his neck, biting hard enough to sting, to bruise, as she continued to ride the wave of her orgasm against his leg, moaning and whimpering incoherently.

And he lost his mind.

Hot come spurted from the tip of his cock, blasting first against his abdomen and then flowing in a scorching river over both their hands, still wrapped around the shaft.

Jack couldn’t speak, couldn’t make any noise as he came. He couldn’t remember his own goddamned name as he sat there watching Katie watching him come, switching her gaze between his face and the sticky strings of ejaculate coating their hands.

He would swear for the rest of his life that he orgasmed again, right there, when first Katie licked her lips and then leaned down to lick up the trail of come on his abs.

Katie continued to lick her lips, looking as though she savored the taste of him and she sucked his come off of first her fingers, and then his own.

“Breathe, Jack,” she instructed and his breath left him in a rush. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped air flow, but he felt the dizzying effects of it now that oxygen was getting to his brain.

Or maybe that was just Katie’s effect on him.

He closed his eyes when she took his index finger into her mouth. They flew open when he realized he felt it all the more acutely with his eyes shut.

Instead, he concentrated on her body—the tight furl of her nipples, which he wished he’d spent a little more time on.

But more intriguing was that he could feel her body—he could feel the occasional pulse of her pussy, like little aftershocks running through her body.

When she’d licked him clean, he kissed her palm, feeling very tender to the woman sitting on his lap. She’d just blown his mind in more ways than one, and he was feeling damned good about himself.

Jack leaned his forehead against hers and they continued to sit there for a moment, until he noticed that her eyes were drifting shut.

“Come on, sleepyhead.” He moved her gently off his leg, and automatically ran a single finger through her slit, bringing the remaining wetness to his mouth for a sweet taste. She jumped in surprise.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just wanted to return the favor.”

He swore she moaned.

“Do you need to go?” she asked, crawling beneath her sheets. He tensed for a moment, but realized that she’d asked without guile, and she was already half asleep.

“Soon enough,” he replied, laying a wet kiss against her naked shoulder.

“Just lock up…when…you…” Just like that she was out. Jack nearly laughed aloud. And guys were supposed to be the ones who fell asleep so quickly after sex?

He knew he should go—he didn’t want the entanglement that this might bring, but it was getting far too late, and he was fading fast.

Jack told himself it was better to sleep for a couple of hours and then drive. It was safer that way, right? Right. No sense in driving across town to his house only to end up falling asleep at the wheel.

He kept telling himself that, until he closed his eyes to rest, dragging Katie’s soft, sleepy body against his.

And he tried his best not to think about how the most unassuming woman in the world had just given him the most erotic experience of his life. That road was just too dangerous to drive.

I really hope you guys have enjoyed this, or at least that you are reading it. I really enjoyed this sex scene.

PS Operator Part Deux

Go here for the previous installment. There will be at least one more installment after this...possibly two or three depending on how I divide things. I feel a bit bad, because I can't for the life of me figure out how to make this proper paragraph form when it's in block quote form (actually, I don't even know if I can do it when it's not in block quote). If it's too hard to read, let me know though, and I'll figure out another way. Hope you all enjoy. **Editors Note: changed to a different font, because I'm apparently HTML disabled and can't figure out how it can look good in block quotations. I changed Part 1 too.

Jack knew he’d chosen not to do so before, but he loved the feeling of triumph at the desire in her voice. His cock twitched in anticipation as he moved the pillow from his lap.

At his first stroke, Katie let out of heartfelt moan. “Is that just for me?” she asked him, slipping two fingers inside of her slick passage and moving them in and out.

“You know it is. I want to fuck you right now, Katie.” She opened her mouth to reply, possibly encourage him to act on that, but he continued, “But I want to watch you come off by yourself first.”

Katie rubbed her clit with her other hand, and Jack noticed how she squirmed. It made him stroke himself harder, faster. “How would you fuck me, Jack?”

Jack wasn’t even sure he could answer right now. Katie shoving her fingers inside of herself, touching herself like she’d done when they’d been on the phone was making him crazed. He closed his eyes momentarily, not thinking about it, “I’d eat you out first. Lick your clit—you already know that mouths are better at it than fingers.” He smiled mischievously at her, reminding her of their phone conversation.

Katie whimpered, her body shivering, and leaned over on the bed, her fingers pumping faster inside her slick, wet walls. She braced herself on one arm.

Her head was close to Jack’s shoulder now, so close he could feel her breath puffing against his shoulder. Her mouth just inches from his throbbing cock.

“Do you want me inside you, Katie?” he whispered close to her ear, spreading the pre-come from his dick over the head and dangerously rubbing the sensitive underside of the head.

She whimpered again, “Yes. God yes!”

“Will you spread your legs farther for me? Let me deep inside you?” His hand was moving faster of its own accord, and he gritted his teeth against coming when Katie began running her hand over his thigh, up the side of his torso and over his chest, finally grasping him by his neck and pulling her body closer to his.

“I want you, Jack.”

He kissed her lightly, but she took over the kiss, pulling him to her and becoming the aggressor. Jack groaned when her tongue entered his mouth, running along the inside of his bottom lip—his entire body shook and he had to release his cock before he exploded.

“How much?” he teased, but he knew his face was taut with anticipation and frustration with the need for release.

She crawled further over him, and Jack hissed out his breath when he saw the desire in her eyes, her pupils dilated so much she looked crazed with lust.

Jack hadn’t noticed that she was straddling his leg, but when he felt the wetness of her fingers trail along his thigh he looked down, and completely lost his breath.

Katie lowered herself over his thigh, just above his knee and sat squarely on him, letting her heat and juices seep into the tenseness of his thigh.

Jack closed his eyes, cursing himself for not being able to watch without coming from the sight.
When he felt her move he fisted his hands at his sides. He could feel it all, the plumpness of her labia, the aroused protrusion of her clit, and the juices as they creamed from her sex. “I want you so much, Jack.” She whispered in his ear as she rode him, pressing hard into his thigh, the light breath breezing over his ear sending shivers through his body. “I want you inside of me. Pounding me. Stretching my body to its limit, until I’m screaming your name.”

“Jesus, woman. You’re going to kill me.”

Katie took hold of his hand and wrapped it around the base of his penis, seemingly re-teaching him how to touch himself. He’d forgotten how the moment that her pussy had touched his leg.

Who the hell was this sex kitten sitting on him? Pleasuring herself on him? He would have never guessed she could be like this when she was dressed like the girl-next-door. He couldn’t wait to find out what she’d do next.

HNT #2

I got such a lovely response to my HNT last week, so I think I'll post another...but now I'm out of pictures (well ones that are half-nekkid, I have a couple others, but I think we'll save those for possible time on the S-Spot), so I'm going to have to take more if I plan on doing this regularly.

I always think I have much smaller breasts than I really do. They look sort of ginormous there. I am only half-nekkid though, I do have jeans on there.

PS Operator Part 1

This is the "computer" name of my book. Not the part 1 part, but "PS Operator." Clearly, that will not be the actual title. Anyway, I am fairly excited because I've just finished a fairly important sex scene that I've been struggling with a bit. It's based on one of my own fantasies, of masturbating in front of a guy, while he is masturbating as well. At first, I thought it would be fairly straightforward, but like any good scene the characters took me a little farther, a little better than where I originally thought I would be.

I'll tell you something, I'm damned nervous about sharing this scene. Mainly because I almost never share anything with anyone until I have a full draft finished--I'm just weird about that. But I guess I'm feeling a little high flying after being chosen in the Bam October Contest (shameless plug, GO VOTE FOR ME!). I wanted to see if it was hot though, frankly. I thought so last night, because my legs started spreading of their own volition, but my turn-on switch has been on the fritz, so maybe I'm wrong. So, here is part 1 of PS Operator Sex Scene (god, help me):

“Are you ticklish?” Surprising.

“No!” she lied. Hmm, something to remember.

Jack kissed across her stomach and through the trimmed thatch of curls into the slickness of her slit. He inhaled deeply, smelling the musky combination of their sex. Gently, he parted her folds with his thumbs and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her lips, licking and tasting her juices already creaming slowly for him.

Katie’s body jumped and she ground her bottom against the sheets.

“Better?”

“Unh.”

Jack smiled as he lapped at her further, teasing her clit very lightly, knowing she was sensitive and carefully tending to her.

“Tell me how I made you come the other night Katie. Show me what you did to yourself.”

He lifted away from her completely, biting back a smile when she whimpered. The woman was far too good for a guy’s ego.

He hadn’t necessarily thought about this beforehand, but he realized he wanted to see her, tucking her fingers inside her body, massaging her clit and viewing everything that before he’d only been able to hear over the phone. It had been intense then, he couldn’t wait to play voyeur to it now.

Assuming she agreed.

“Show me,” he said again. He settled at the end of the bed, glad for the footboard, and placed a pillow over his hard-on. He wasn’t usually modest, but he couldn’t trust himself not to touch without something barring him the ability.

“Y-you want me to…?” Pink crawled across her neck and cheeks, but she didn’t seem to dislike the idea.

Hmm, another surprise. The lady has some kinks. As if he’d had a doubt, she was a phone sex operator after all. The sweet demeanor probably hid a lot of sins that cops weren’t allowed to look for in their background checks. Secrets were secrets for a reason.

Jack saw she was intrigued, but she seemed to need a little help. “Are you touching yourself?”

Katie gasped, her eyes widening with excitement, and her fingers loosened from the strangle-hold they had on each other. Jack noticed the slight shaking of her hands as they moved across her soft stomach and he bit back a groan, making fists so he didn’t reach for her.

He knew now how soft her skin was and he liked the taste of it, the touch of it, too much.

So slowly he thought he’d come with the anticipation, Katie’s hands moved lower, parting the soft, plump lips of her sex, leaning back until he could see her wetness, slicking her pussy and spreading further as she flicked a moist finger against her clit.

“Are you touching yourself, Katie?” he repeated, wanting to hear her words too. Something about her voice drove him wild.

“Yes,” she finally rasped and looked at his crotch, as if waiting for him to do the same. He wanted her to talk to him though, so he waited to stroke himself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He gulped when one of her long fingers dipped inside of her, gathering more of her juices.

“Wet. Just hearing you, seeing you, makes me wet,” she replied. Katie’s hips were moving, a slow grind against her fingers teasing the hard bud of her clit. He still sat a couple feet from her, but he saw everything—every shiver of her body, the sheen of sweat that broke on her forehead and between her breasts…and still he had to stop himself from moving closer, from licking her body up, down, and sideways.

“Touch yourself, Jack.”

There, it's done. Maybe for a bit of background: "Katie" is a phone sex operator, and a PhD student (no, not even close to based on my life). "Jack" is a cop, investigating the company she works for. That's all I'll give you for now. There WILL be around four parts--this is only a couple short "pages" of text--and I've got about eight pages of this scene (so, it could be 3, it could be 5).

Really hope you guys like it. After all, ya'll are better experts on sex than I am. :-)

TMI Tuesday (another first time in a week!)

I've never done it (haha, we all know that's true), but I have been reading everyone else's TMIs for weeks...and I just couldn't resist this one, it was just too fun. Hope you enjoy!

Wanna play? Click the picture (hope that works, if not go here).

1. What are your 7 favorite tactile things that turn you on? Sex (like oral, or penetrative) cannot be an answer. (Examples: silk, light tickling, etc).

-Scruff of five o'clock shadow on my neck
-just-shaved legs naked against 500+tc sheets
-a soapy loofah running over my body in the shower (makes the mornings lots of fun)
-a muscular arm wrapped around me
-breath whispering across my ear
-teeth scraping across my skin
-holding hands

2. What are your non-genital errogenous zones and what do you like done to them?

-kisses, fingers, breath across my neck
-Brain...intelligent conversation, dirty talk (thanks both Jon and Bunny for the reminder)
-my forearm--light scraping of short nails
-hands--anything; hold them, rub a thumb over them, kiss the palm
-earlobe--biting, licking, kissing


3. What sounds get you sexually charged?
-the sound of a guy coming, groaning and grunting--it absolutely drives me wild; slower songs with lots of bass (think Janet Jackson's "Rope Burn" and "Lick" by Joi)

4. After losing your virginity, what is the longest you’ve gone without penetrative sex?
--haha! that would require me to have lost virginity. Wait...do dildos count as penetrative? ;-)

5. What is your least favorite sexual position? Why don't you like it?

All right, so since I haven't actually had the pleasure of sex, much less sex in multiple positions, I am using the one that looks the absolutely most frighteningly complicated to me.




I just don't know how they do that.

Bonus (as in optional):If you could sexually dominate or submit to 5 people - any 5, currently living or deceased - which 5 would it be?

-Dominate: Angelina Jolie, Gerard Butler...um, that's all I got right now, hmmm...maybe I'm a bit of a sub

-Submit: (ok, some of them are book characters, but that's ok) Jon Galt (ooh...better specify, the Ayn Rand character, although the blogger would be good too), Hank Rearden (again, Ayn Rand), Angelina Jolie, Gerard Butler, any of the male characters from Karen Marie Moning's "Highlander" series (damn...I'm turning myself on, and I'm not even into d/s!)

Passion Files

Damn...I'm going to have to use that as a title of a book.

Not the point. I get something called "Dr. Laura Berman's Passion Files" (we can also thank her, wholeheartedly, for the creation of my favorite little pocket rocket Athena). Yesterday, the "Files" came in and the title was, "What's in a Vulva?"

I nearly fell off my chair laughing.

It was fairly informative I will say, despite the comedic name (and that fact that the first line was, "No, I'm not talking about a car...") partially because I don't always read the Files because a lot of them have to do with menopause, and I'm just not at that point in my life, thankyouverymuch (I am very sorry if any of you are, I'm warm enough as it is, I do not look forward to hot flashes). But she talked all about what a vulva actually is and how it differs from a vagina...not going to lie, didn't really know they were truly separate areas, just thought the vulva was actually part of the vagina (it's not). I've done all the things a "good girl" is supposed to do to learn about her body--look at your pussy in a mirror, examine it, etc. Masturbate so you know what you like (clearly, we all know that I do that more than my fair share), but I never actually looked at a book to figure out what a vulva is and what a vagina is. So, it was kind of cool...and ya'know, nice to learn after 23 years.

In other news (but oddly related), I sort of think I have masturbated myself silly over the last few days. I just don't have the desire right now. I actually did it as research last night (I am so deadly serious right now, I was playing out a scene for my book from the female POV), but didn't really feel like it all that much and it took longer than usual to come. Probably need to lay off for a few days, I'm just not feeling really turned on much (it's all very disheartening for me).

I don't have homework tonight, so I may just have to read the latest Christina Dodd historical that I picked up while in NYC (Someday my Prince--I would love to be Christina Dodd when I become an author, she does historicals AND contemporary suspense...I may not be able to do too much suspense, but I want to do both historicals and contemporaries).

OOH! Reminder...go vote for me at Bam's website and vote for me in the October writing contest...I'm seriously so stoked about being picked as a finalist--voting ends Friday, October 26th.
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Editor's Note: Had to take out the middle part of that, if you happened to read it and wondered where it went. I re-read it and wanted to strangle myself--I really hate when I get bratty, so no mas.

So excited at 7:30 am!

Yay!!! I was chosen as a finalist on the Dionne Galace (aka Bam) website, for her Kick-Ass Heroine Contest. The premise was to write a heroine who saves the hero, rather than the other way around. Had to be under 400 words, and could be either from something else that one was writing, or just it's own little scene. Mine was just my own little scene, you can see it at the link.

Go vote for me!

Yayyyyyyy!!!!!!!! Okay, I'm going back to bed for awhile. LOVE not having class until 1:30!

More than meets the eye

All right, I'm a total dork, but I'm really in love with Transformers, the movie. I watched it last night almost to the end (until the the lights went out on my entire block--I don't like that when I'm home alone, which I am cause my parents are in Germany) and then the rest this morning.

Seriously, I love it. I shed a little tear at the end. I really like Michael Bay movies...they are pretty much the perfect action movies. I was never a Transformers fan as a kid, that was more my brother's thing, but I really like them now. Bumble Bee is so cute! You know, for an alien robot.

That's all. I'll probably post something later today too, but I just had to share my dorkiness.

Odd dreams

I have to weird subconscious habit, that I've only noticed in the last year or so. Maybe it didn't even develop until last year, but I'm thinking it's been going on longer than that.

This weird subconscious thing is namely: sex dreams.

Now, I only wish this was happening on a regular basis, because if nothing else it mixes it up a bit. But it tends to only happen when I have been out of classes, not seeing the regular day-to-day people that I see in law school. I end up having sex dreams about them.

I did last night. One week out of classes, and I'm having sex dreams about people. I had two in the same night though, which was really weird and has never happened to me before. It was all sort of the same dream, where I was at a beach house with some random configuration of friends from my entire life, and for some reason I told this kid, we'll call him Sweetie Pie (I know, every guy's dream nickname--but he really is like that in real life, so it's apt), that I was a virgin. Somehow he volunteered himself, I'm not sure of the particulars and we jumped into bed. It was odd because he was really nervous and I was nervous (and I'm fairly sure someone else was in the room with us to see how things were going...) but I was on top and it was very sweet and gentle and lovey, in its own way.

No, no crush on this guy, but I do sort of want to pinch his cheeks every time I see him. It's sort of like observing a really adorable golden retriever puppy whenever we talk, he's just a sweetie.

The other guy (apparently the second I lose my virginity in a dream I start jumping mattresses), was complete opposite. He's got a bit of that asshole-fratboy quality (we'll call him Frat-Boy for fun, which he was). Oddly, the asshole-fratboys of the world tend to be fairly nice to me if we get to talking. I don't know why. But, he and I somehow ended up in bed and I definitely get the impression he is not a guy who gives a damn about a girl's satisfaction in the sack (he's nice to me, but no way would I want to fuck him in real life), and may even be one of those guys who things that girls can't actually have orgasms. But he was a hard-driving fuck in my dream. Seriously fucking me into the mattress-legs-up-in-the-air-above-my-head sort of fucking.

Hmm, I'm not one of those that puts a lot of stock in dream meanings, but I wonder what it means when I only have sex dreams when I've been out of class for a week or more. I come in the dream, but not in real life (I'm not even sure if women can have wet dreams), and mostly I just end up waking up and laughing that I'm dreaming about fucking guys from school.

Weird, but surprisingly delightful.

HNT (First Timer!)

All right, so technically it's already Friday in Minnesota...so we'll just pretend I'm on the West Coast and I still have a half-hour (or is it an hour and a half?) until Thursday is over. I've never done an HNT, but apparently I was feeling fairly frisky today (tonight) and thought this was a good idea. Let's hope this works...I'm even thinking of submitting something to Shay's The S Spot for CBW (she does both Cock and Cunt). We'll see if my exhibitionism holds up though.



PS-I really love those shoes...but I can't wear them anywhere but around the house. So, where better to wear them than in bed?! (Well, off the bed, because I'd probably puncture the mattress if I wore them IN bed)

Damn...

I apparently overdid it. No, I didn't exercise too much--well, not technically (ha, have you read my blog? Me and exercise are not always the best of friends). No, it wasn't an exercise overexertion...instead, I spent half of yesterday "on top."

Not getting off for six days tends to make a girl kind of horny (are we noticing a theme over the last couple weeks?). So, I got home, cranked up the computer and checked out Literotica and YouPorn, and got to gettin'.

Like people who have normal sex (I don't know why, but that phrase strikes me as very amusing), I like masturbating in multiple positions--whether on my back, my side, or my knees (aka-"on top"). I was all over sitting on my knees on my bed for what seems like freakin' ever after the fact.

Aaaannnnddd.....

My ASS HURTS! I feel like I did squats for an hour yesterday.

Isn't it great? You don't even have to "normal" sex to get the exercise benefits!

Is this too much information? Sometimes I feel like I overshare, but it's cool...cause this subject has just tickled my fancy all day.

Hopelessly Optimistic...

So I'm sure it has been implied, if not directly said, that I am a hopeless romantic.

With that, it also seems to come that I am a hopeless optimist. I am not sure how this happened, frankly. I have been shit on any number of times by both females and males alike. I do have some really great friends, but it was a long time coming to get those, as I'm sure it is for anyone. More than anything, I have been made fun of for nearly all of my life for being a big girl.

I'm not entirely sure why I've thought of this, other than the fact that I was with one of my best guy friends this weekend and he and his other friends were so good to me that I just felt good about myself--even walking around New York City with a lot of little, tiny girls who should have very easily destroyed all my self-confidence...but thanks to my boy, I didn't have to deal with that utter lack of ego.

Perhaps it is because of my utter lack of experience (and my utter adoration for romance novels) that I still have this complete optimism that by waiting to have sex--whether by choice or by necessity, of which it is primarily the latter--I will ultimately have a better experience at it. I have been told this by a few people, some of whom have had decent experiences their first time, and others who have had dreadful experiences their first time, that by waiting longer I am simply more likely to ensure the probability that the first time will be better.

Generally, I simply wonder if perhaps when the next opportunity presents itself I may just end up throwing off my, sometimes, damnable virginity. Of course, I am equally sure that I will ultimately wait on it. That's the hopeless romantic in me. I want to believe that after all this time, having given up the few chances I have had to become sexually active, I have actually waited for something good. That I will be in a moment where it will be pleasurable and wonderful and filled with some sort of lovely emotion...sparkling love, frankly, if I could actually choose the emotion, although I'm fairly realistic on that score and would simply like some sort of emotion in general.

It probably makes me naive in a lot of ways. I undoubtedly think my friends, Laney and Paige (the Best Friends if you're just joining us), sometimes think that about me, despite them being so great to me, which I sometimes wonder at because she has such a romantic streak, like I do.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for the day. I thought about it on my way home, as I was driving from the airport. It was so nice seeing Pimp Daddy (had to change it from "NYC"--it was confusing me so I can't imagine how confusing it must have been for all of you--and it's extremely appropriate because we called him that for a bit as Freshmen in college), and just being around someone who I knew loved me for me and never judged me. He's such an indispensable friend (yes, I probably do have one or two who are dispensable acquaintances), and so good to me.

Perhaps I should blame him for some of my hopeless optimism. Friends that good to one tend to make a person decidedly optimistic and bring a lovely feeling every time they are around.

Welcome to New York, muthafuckas...

I adore the song "Welcome to Atlanta" by Jermaine Dupri, which is what that title is from (well, from the remix). But, that's cause the New York portion of it is truly appropriate. I really love New York. I've been here for 5 days, and I leave tomorrow. I'm sad, but I'm also ready to get home. It's nice to be able to just relax in one's home and sit around naked...masturbate...etc. Whatev.

Although, I probably could have done so at my friends' place, but why make things awkward. So, my friend's name--we'll just call him NYC--has been one of my good friends since college. He is one of the few guys who have told me I'm beautiful, and I actually know that he means it. The boy is pimp for sure (not A pimp, just pimp) and an utter sweeatheart, who I adore. In fact, during my first year of college, I had a crush on him. I'm not too proud to admit it. I knew it, he knew it, I just found out that his friends back here knew it. And we're still all good years later. The only other friend that I had a crush on who I am still friends with is egotistical enough and doesn't know me well enough, to presume that I still have a crush on him all these years later. But he's a story for a different day, cause I have some major annoyance issues with him.

Anyway, NYC has been asking me to come visit forever, and while normally I end up traveling to visit my best friends--Paige & Laney--I thought it high time I visited my guy friends who have always been so good to me. He had to work today and yesterday, so I've explored the Upper East Side (his parents live up here, and we've been staying with them). Today, I found Dylan's Candy Bar. I'm in love.

I wanted to go to Magnolia Bakery (made famous by Sex & the City). I've been there before, and we walked past this time, but the line was half way down the block. NYC says it's always like that, but when I went the first time it was only just out the door. Must have hit at a good time. Dylan's Candy Bar is owned by Ralph Lauren's daughter, and has these massive cupcakes (what I wanted at Magnolia), which are pretty fucking good so I'm just happy I got cupcakes.

We went out Friday and Saturday night with his friends, some of whom I had met before. Had dinner with his parents and saw "The Heartbreak Kid" (movie) on Sunday with one of his friends. Then we went to his friend's house in Brooklyn that has a sick theatre room, and watched the Giants v. Falcons game. It's the most of a professional football game I've ever watched. I swear. His friend also catered the affair for the ten people there.

It's all very surreal being here though as well, because these are not kids who live in real houses like everyone else thinks of...no, these are the creme de la creme of New York. While NYC needs to work at least a little bit (and works like a banshee just because he's cool like that), some of his friends don't need to work...ever...and don't. I mean, NYC's parents live three blocks from Central Park and have an elevator in their house--not kidding). None of them are the "Paris Hilton" type though, which is great. And they are all more than sweet and so cool and nice to me, which is especially nice, because although I'm well traveled and have lived in London and Rome, I still have my gauche moments. Coming from Minnesota to New York--even from the largest city of 1 million+ in Minnesota--it's still crazy to see some of the places in New York. I feel more than a bit unsophisticated sometimes.

The saddest part of my entire trip though? I didn't see a single play/musical (sorry Miss Belle! I'm not going to be any help)!!! I'm so sad! I just sort of ran out of time. There aren't any matinees (I remember them the last time I was here though! Maybe that was just on the weekends and my friend was at work then) during Mondays and Tuesdays. And Tuesday is dark for a quite a few shows. So, I couldn't find anything I wanted to see for tonight. We're going to do some great Italian food tonight though, so I'm excited about that.

The funniest part of the entire weekend, however, was that I opened up to NYC about a) my book and b) my love of porn. And he totally found it fascinating! He was so cool about how pervy and porn-addicted I am (probably because he's the same way) that I absolutely loved it. And his friend (the one we went to the movie with) is even pervier. In a good way (sometimes--found someone who loves facials! NYC does not however--not kidding, we had a two hour convo about pornography). His friend was lots of fun though, and completely outrageous. I loved it. We even talked about the fact that NYC knew I had a crush on him in college. But there wasn't the accusation of--"Oh, you must still like him if you're friends with him after having a crush on him." Why the hell would that even be something that crosses people's minds four years later?! I don't get it. I didn't like NYC after our freshman year. Not because he rejected me, cause he never officially did, he was always so kind and respectful about it, but because I just wasn't exposed to him as much as I was as a freshman. So dumb that people think that.

Anyway, I exposed my deep, dark porn secret to my guy friend and he still totally loves me as a person (possibly loves me even more), and frankly that made the weekend all the better.

Gotta love NYC. The city and the friend.

Start Spreadin' the News...

I'm going to New York City tomorrow! I'm visiting an old friend of mine, and I'm damned excited about it.

I'll see you all on Wednesday. One can only hope I have some great adventures...but ya'know if I just end up seeing a lot of Broadway shows, I'm okay with that too (total musical geek!).

My pleasure

I'm at the point in the month where my hormones are in serious flux. Translation? I'm horny as hell. I'm always fairly horny (hence the name of my blog), but right now I'm bordering on Orgasm Addiction. We're talking three to four times a day at the moment. It's almost scary.

But may I say? I love my sex toys. I'm not a girl who necessarily needs them all the time, in fact I'm more likely to just use my favorite digit (middle finger...I don't know why I like it best) to frig myself into oblivion, but I also am one of those girls that feels a certain obligation to break out the sex toys at least a couple times a month and put them to good use. There's sort of a lot of pressure in using sex toys--if you've ever been to a sex toy party (and I've been to about five) you know what I mean. The woman is there, telling you that you need to make sure that you only clean certain sex toys with certain cleansers (i.e., rubbing alcohol is never okay, a gentle soap is good for most things, and you can boil glass dildos clean--and the drying! Don't get me started) and never, ever leave your batteries in a silicone or jelly-style vibrator because eventually they can explode. I gotta admit, that's probably why I put off getting a full on penile vibrator as long as I did. Too much pressure on how to keep it clean.

But I love my toys. My friends got me my first one on my 20th birthday. A small slimline vibe that was essentially just a tube with a pointed end. It didn't really do it for me, and at the time I was horribly embarrassed because I had just had the blow out with the Fucker from Texas, and wasn't exactly feeling like putting forth any sort of masturbatory effort. I've grown my collection in the last couple of years, getting a vibrating dildo that looks fairly innocuous, but for someone who hadn't had much besides a couple fingers inside, it was pretty much uncomfortable (that's where that pesky hymen went, I'm fairly sure). And hard! I know that's the point, but a little more give please? Next was a couple of mini-vibes only good for some really excellent clitoral stimulation. One I got for free with an order (not kidding, it's called Athena) and I came in less than thirty seconds it was so intense. I still can do that when I'm not paying close enough attention--it's a fabulous orgasm. I'll probably wear out the motor on that.

And then came the real, proper, true-penis shape (veining, balls, and the whole bit), vibrating dildo--we'll call him Mr. Darcy, for my love of Pride & Prejudice. I was a little intimidated. I hadn't really liked my first vibrating dildo, so I was worried that I'd just spent money on something I probably wouldn't use. But I gave Mr. Darcy a try and he wasn't too bad. Much more comfortable than the other one (a bit longer, but about a half- or third-inch less girth--although still fairly respectable), although it's still a bit tight at the first.

I'll admit, due to my lack of experience, I've always assumed that it is the rare few women who can get off on only penetration. I figure most women need some clit-fun thrown in there. But now I've started using Mr. Darcy through the horniest spell I've had in god-knows-how-long, I'm seeing the appeal of penetration. It feels fucking fantastic! Even without stimulating my clit I'm more than half-way to coming. I've decided that is my goal--to be able to come without clit stimulation.

It's not that I don't love my clit and paying her a great deal of attention--but it's nice to have options.

I've also decided that I really want to "learn" how to come with my G-spot (i.e., "squirt"). Mr. Darcy is getting me pretty close I feel like (I'm getting the "urge to pee" that you are supposed to feel), but I can't quite let go of it yet. I think I'll try it in the shower or bath or something for the first.

So, yeah. I love my sex toys. And I especially love them this week. I don't even get very expensive ones (Mr. Darcy was only $30), but I feel they have been essential to my sexuality. I suppose I can thank my friends for embarrassing me so completely on my 20th birthday.

Sex toys: yeah or nay? I'm feeling like this is going to be an overwhelming "Yay" from the gallery. Also, any recommendations? I hate to wear out Athena and Mr. Darcy too quickly...so I'm always on the lookout. A virgin-who-isn't-getting-any has to have some fun, right?

My thoughts exactly.

Good for the skin...?

Have I told you of my utter uncomfortableness with facials? I'm not talking where I put on a nice robe at the local salon and a lady with a soothing voice spreads gunk all over my face and does extractions (the extractions freak me out, but the other part is nice). I'm talking about when guys come on a girls face.

I don't know if it's because there is a distinct possibility of semen getting in my eye or up my nose, or the possibility of having a There's Something About Mary moment. Or it could be (and this is most likely) that because when I was a freshman in college our neighbor used to find it really amusing to bring us over when he got new porn and have us check it out with him (first time I ever saw a woman, actually 3 sitting together, squirt--and up until about two years ago I swore they were really peeing). He wasn't getting off or anything at the time, he basically just wanted to shock us--frankly he was probably dissappointed when that didn't work out that well for him.

Anyway, I really do blame him for my utter dislike of facials (I seriously gag when I see them), because of a single compilation he had us watch that had about forty facials in a row for probably five minutes. I kept gagging and had to turn away.

Here's the weird thing...I really think blow jobs themselves are hot, and swallowing is hot (holding it in the mouth, doesn't do it so much for me), I love watching guys just masturbate (total voyeur--youporncocks.com is probably more of a fave of mine than even youporn.com original), and I really, really think that guys coming on a girl anywhere but their face is ridiculously hot, but facials freak me out!

This seems a little odd to me. Anyone else weirded out by facials? Maybe I need to actually experience one to find out how hot it is, but for some reason I get a little gaggy thinking about it--it could be too that I sort of think it's disrespectful in some ways. I'm not sure why, but for some reason coming all over a girls' face always seems to indicate that you didn't have enough respect to aim for her mouth when it was RIGHT THERE. Obviously, I'm sure there are some girls who like it and there is enough porn on it that there must be at least a few guys who like it (okay, I might be underestimating here).

So, what's the dillio?

Do you like facials? If you're a girl, what do you like about them? Guys: why are they so hot?

We know I'm willing to learn about anything and everything sex, so let's hear it. :-)

Frosted Windowpanes...

All right, let me just say that I love Christmas time. While I'm a huge Halloween fan, because I think it's fun to dress up (yet another way I should have realized that I'd get off on role-playing scenarios!), I still love Christmastime best. The snow, the music, the food, the family. From Thanksgiving to January 1st, I adore it.

But, for some reason, I am already anticipating Christmas. It's October 4th! I'm champing at the bit to break out the Christmas music and waiting impatiently for the snow. We haven't had any snow yet, but we did get fairly chilly last week so I was getting excited. Now it's 75 again, and it's supposed to be 80 tomorrow. Again, I say, it's October! I want it in the 60s at the most.

So, for some reason I'm searching out the Christmas anthologies that always come out right around this time from some of my favorite romance authors. Christmas is just so sexy!

Oy (no, I'm not Jewish, I just LOVE that phrase), what is wrong with me?!

Wait, don't answer that.

Lake Wobegone

Yes. Yes, I am from the world of Lake Wobegone and Garrison Keillor. The funny thing about Minnesota is that it has a reputation--or rather, Minnesotans do--as "Minnesota nice." If you have been so fortunate as to have never heard this term before, it is sort of the equivalent of what Mayberry, USA (of the Andy Griffith Show) or Small Town, USA ifyouwill, is supposed to be...en masse. We are supposed to be a welcoming bunch, who always have a smile and a friendly thought for others, especially newcomers.

This is all lies. Minnesota does not have anymore people that are nice than anywhere else in the world...we're just better at pretending that we're nice. Which frankly doesn't exactly speak that highly of us, because it implies that we are fake. And...we kind of are. Not necessarily in a bad way, but we really, really, really want to be liked by the rest of the world. We have the Mall of America for chrissakes! If that doesn't scream, "Like me! Like me!" I'm not sure what does.

But, of course, this is a stereotype--like that all New Yorkers are mean, or all Californians are surfers. I know plenty of New Yorkers who are most definitely NOT mean (in fact, I can't think of any mean New Yorkers that I know), and I know plenty of Californians...wait, actually the only Californians I know are surfer-types so that doesn't work. But you get my point.

And I do have a point. Mainly, this point is that I know a great number of nice Minnesotans--in fact, I attend school with a lot of them. Now, it may be that they are simply humoring me, but for the most part I actually get the feeling that the people I know really do find it impressive that I am writing a novel....

...and a damned surprising number of my classmates know this. I don't even know how it happened, because I know that I am not the one who has been telling them about this. I told three or four people and now random people (well, at least they are still people whom I know) are coming up to me and asking, "How is your manuscript coming?" And I'm honestly so confused when they ask that I think they are talking about lawyering skills (the law school writing class) until I finally realize, "Are they talking about my book?"

And they are. One guy, yesterday, asked to see what I was reading (a historical romance by Stephanie Laurens--whom I love), and I told him he'd laugh, but he said, "Oh please, you should see all the crap I read this summer." So, I showed him (and there is a smallish bodice-ripper picture on the front) and he, naturally, said, "Oh, that is way trashier." Then asked about my "manuscript." After I finally realized he was talking about my book, he offered himself as a copy-editor once it was done.

I was shocked, frankly. Most people say, "I can't wait 'till you're done, I want to read it." But I don't really take them totally seriously, but for some reason offering himself to edit it was slightly surprising. But it was also very nice. And it's really nice that at least some of the people I talk to actually do seem like they want to read it once it's done. Maybe I need to take them more seriously after all.

In other news, I found out there is actually something called an Orgasmatron.

Ask me how :-)

Pride & Prejudice

That's one of my favorite books, but that isn't really the point of this entry. Instead, I'm talking about one of my aversions to law...or maybe less aversion and maybe more fear.

I'm not sure I've mentioned this, but I am not one of those do-gooder types when it comes to my decision to be a lawyer. I'm surrounded by them, because I'm attending a religious (Catholic) law school so we have a greater than average number or students who want to be public defenders or prosecutors, or to work in the public sector in some way helping the poor and downtrodden.

I'm not one of them. Frankly, I respect the hell out of those people, but I literally went to law school because a) I couldn't do shit with an English degree right out of undergrad and b) I am terrified of being poor for the long term (had to get used to that real damned quick once I was taking out $30,000 loans for each year of school).

Despite my aversion to actually working with the public sector for the long term, we do have a requirement at my school that we have 50 hours of volunteer work over the three years we are at school (or however long it takes to complete school). Again, I was not one of those kids that got behind volunteering when I was younger--I didn't particularly have a great interest in it, at least not in a traditional sense (I did do some volunteering during high school, but it was not "traditional") and I also refused, on principle, to suddenly start volunteering like a bandit right before law school so it would look good on my resume.

This year (my second year in school), however, I needed something to do that would get me some actual law experience, and couldn't manage a job. So, I looked for something to do for at least this semester. I talked about the actual "job" a few entries ago, but I actually started today.

It's very difficult to see people so confused and scared about what to do when they are served a summons or when they have a judgment against them. I had, out of about eight "clients" that came in, two of them start to cry. More than anything it seems like they are afraid, which is very hard to see. I get very uncomfortable when people cry, because I want to cry with them and tell them , "It's going to be okay," but I can't because technically I can't actually say much of anything when the lawyers are giving advice (cause that would be illegal).

I had a point to this, but it has taken me so long to write that I can't really remember what the original point was. I do know however that I'm pretty damned lucky to have had the opportunity to go to college and now to law school without having accumulated any debt beyond my law school debts. These people have medical debts, credit card debts, housing debts, and they are on government support. It's very humbling to see.

So that's me today. Humbled Rae. Pretending like I won't ever cry when I see another woman crying because she's been kicked out of her rental and isn't sure she can get back in to get her pets. Kills me.