Sunday, July 09, 2006

Back in the Saddle

Its official.
No deny'n it.
Tried to talk myself out of it.
Worked a logical circle around it.

Alas, I'm a slut.

Well, or so in touch with my actual needs that I will take advantage of meeting them.

According to my friend Monty, Maslows Heirarchy of Needs includes sex amoung food and drink and shelter.

Its basic.
And I'm tapp'n into my most primal needs and meeting them with a flurry.

After a long depression linked to the mammilian/emotional brain, I have recovered refreshed and on the prowl with my reptilian/basic needs brain running the show.

It was easy really. I planted the seeds of inquisition about 6 weeks ago, I played phone tag, I refused to respond to his lame attempts at 11:30pm rendevus, and suddenly I found myself playing him like a pawn.
And I don't play chess.
Thats how easy he was.

I was working VERY late, chatting on the cell phone while pulling the shredable files from the cabinets and tossing them on the floor like a slob. Behavior I could NEVER pull off if the office were abuzz with people and chatter and activity.
I get a beep that another call is coming in.
I know its him.
I tell him I'll call him later.
2 hours later I wake him.
With only 10 minutes of back and forth, I have the file cabinet project done, my shoes back on, and a midnight date to Dennys to get me dinner.
S C O R E.
I never eat at dinners, and let me tell ya... there is something about OJ and french toast at midnight that will send you over cloud nine no matter WHO your sitting across from!

He holds my hand in the car on the way back to his place, offers me a glass of wine, I say I'm good, we make out in the hallway, he says this would be more comfortable in the bedroom, and 45 minutes later he gets up to get me a towel AND a bottle of water without being asked for either.
And he didn't just toss them at me. Like some assholes do. I got them handed to me as I basked in the glow that is an endorphin rush brought on by being smacked ever so expertly on the meat of the rump while getting the fingers involved in cum #3.

Do I tell the judgement commitee in my real life that some things AREN'T finished after college? Will they believe I wasn't drinking either time? Can they fathom that I'm not covering for anything, that I am more well adjusted today than at any time in the past year???

Well, I'm telling you.
The Ass is back in Sassy if you know what I mean.

I must admit, I am a little disappointed that after 6 months of committed gym rat-dom, I find my lower back a bit of achy after these escapades. Time to adjust the regime.
Keep going to yoga so I can hold my legs open? yes.
Continue to do crunches every trip so I can manipulate myself and him with graceful ease? yes.
Do more pushups so I can hold tighter to my position on the bed? yes.
Learn how to use that bar that you lay over and hold weights to your chest and do backward situps on? Going this afternoon.
Thank every one of my teachers for giving me the stamina, strength, and self esteem to land two Lamers who can't return phone calls on time but can be talked into buying my late night meals and letting me ride them until I'm totally tripley satisfied? I'm pulling out the cute stationary as I type.


On another topic, my tan lines are coming very nicely. Somehow this little halter top bikini is perfectly fitting over my nipple section so that I don't mind my roomies being home during my tanning time.
Compoundly, laying on my stomach totally topless - not just with the back untied, but with the whole top off and slipped under the pillow - and realizing that the roomies mom and grandma were in the house for the first time is not nearly as embarrassing as you'd think.

Also, the mild disappointment of finding out that one of your favorite flirt buddies is taken can be overcome in time to send a reply email containing the sentance "when you ever take my invitation to meet, just bring me a friend to play with while you and your g/f suck face =)". There is something fantastic about not knowing the people in real life. I don't have to be put off my his bad hair days or the way he shovels food or what a dork he really is (he works in tech support ya'll, I mean come ON)... but on the phone and via email he is a wonderful man in my life; always glad to talk to me, always ready to make me laugh, and willing to put in the effort to quell my workplace worries. He doesn't even get jealous when I talk to other Tech Support guys. So he had a girlfriend that can read his open IMs at his house and can't chat with me. He just crossed into the PERFECTLY unavailable guy for me and the teasing and taunting is about to exponentially explode. And I'll tell ya, I've been pretty brazen about throwing myself at him with the text messages to my email that were forwarded with my phone number on them, emails from the personal address, talk of meeting midstate for a weekend on the beach... I mean we all know I'm not a tease, but there is something devilishly fun about offering a chase to a guy 4 hours away =)=)

Its midafternoon on the last day of my weekend. I'm going to shower some heavy conditioner in my hair, get back in the bikini to solidify my tan lines, check my laundry, and maybe think about eating something so IF the gym crosses my mind for that back workout I'll be up for it. Or I'll have two beers for lunch and end the day catching up on Tivo.

Welcome to a closer representation of my most perfect life to date. Working my way up the ladder, social life blossoming, money sitch is healthy, no latent desires to emotionally self mutilate, family squared away, contented dog sleeping at my feet, room kinda clean but not neurotically so, and the rest of the day to do whatever the fuck I want because I am in control of whats happening to me and chose to have the free time commercials keep telling me I don't have.
Boo ya.

4 comments:

Monty said...

You say slut, I say taking care of things, you say tom-may-to, I say to-mah-to. Feeling better, are we. Let's join up with Abe and call it being human. We'd be running in such good company!

Miss Sassy said...

monty - in my definition, slut = will do anything that has something to ride.
With my admission that both of these guys are/were classifiable as Mr. Lamer, I'd say my ability to bend over for them earns me the ta-mah-to label. =)

curmudgeon said...

Jeebus. I must thank you for the visuals!
No really.

But I'm easily distracted anyway. :)

Miss Sassy said...

c- at least I'm posting right?
its always been what I'm think'n 'bout; no more Miss Menthol or Mousy visuals to brag about is all.

Perhaps thoughts instead of recent actions for the next post - to keep the PG-13 rating =)