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[Meg, guest writer of “Meg and TD” is back with another juicy story and hot photos that can only be seen here.  Enjoy.  –SSF]

I ran across some pictures and was reminded I never told you the story that put my nipple clamp love into overdrive.  It just might change your mind about them.  I know I’ve told you about the boss. There are many stories of us fucking in the rolling bookshelves that would be great scripts for any boss/employee-type porn, but this isn’t a story about that.

However, this was more momentous than getting fucked back in the bookshelves where we could’ve been caught so very easily, with the noise I make I’m surprised we never were.  This happened after his wife found a string of texts that were very explicit and after she had decided she wanted to fuck me too. I can’t remember if we’d all fucked together yet or not at the point of this event.

Regardless, I was in the habit of carrying around my clamps in my purse at the time … and wearing short skirts to work. As a matter of fact, that particular day I had on the same skirt I’ve seen your face under. The boss knew I had the clamps with me. (I’m sure I told him, knowing the horny little slut I was being.) Both of our desks could be viewed by any passersby who cared to look in so he took me back to the bookshelves and he put the clamps on me. He told me I couldn’t take them off until he said so. Him telling me what to do turned me on even more.

They don’t really hurt so much when you first put them on so I bounced back to my desk pain free. Our desks were about 3 feet from each other. I’m sure he was asking me about them, if they hurt, etc., when a co-worker who was always especially fond of my outfits and antics came back to chit chat. (It was a Friday and we were all killing time till time to go.) He mentioned how he liked my get-up and I murmured a thank you of some sort because by this time those little fuckers on my nipples were all I could think of. Mostly because they were starting to hurt, but having someone else in there made them all the naughtier, I felt like he could see right through me. And the boss had this grin on his face that only I knew what from. He could see me squirming and knew I was going to explode. So, of course, he kept the co-worker back there longer than I would’ve liked. Watching me squirm was half the fun.

I’ve never had a hard time with pain and have found that I actually enjoy it. That’s been the source of my fascination with bdsm. I haven’t dipped too much into it besides in my head, with this couple, and with the porn I favor. It excites me and I think I’d love to have someone abuse me in all those ways but really only in my imagination is where all of that is usually played out. There was some point, in night two, you had my legs spread more than they should have been able to be spread and it was making my hamstrings burn and hurt and you were fucking me hard. That moment reminded me of the nipple clamps and that mix of pain and pleasure is something I keep chasing. I wanted you to spread them more, make it hurt more and fuck me harder. I felt like a ragdoll then. I loved it.

DSC07195So the boss was watching me squirm. I tried to hang out in the conversation, but I couldn’t. I turned back around to my machine and pretended to be working. I was trying to apply pressure to my throbbing nipples to relieve them some; I desperately wanted to wait and let the boss take the clamps off. I’d think there was no way I could wait longer, then I’d wait longer. All the while, they were sitting about about 5 feet behind me. My squirms had to be apparent. And I was horny which makes me not sit like a lady and not care. So I waited longer. I don’t even remember what they were yakking about–I’m sure some tv show or football or other boy shit.

My entire body was on fire at that point. I couldn’t stand it any longer. So I went back and took them off. Holy shit, the feelings that rushed through my body at that moment were amazing. And all of it was pulsating from my nipples through the rest of me. Needless to say, my tiny panties were soaked through. So I trotted back out with a look on my face that said to the boss, “Get him the fuck out of here and get back here.”

The co-worker was gone in minutes. The boss took me back to the bookshelves. I had my tits out before I could think and told him to suck them. If you can somehow come from your nipples with nothing touching your pussy then I did then. My entire body went limp. And he sucked and sucked then went to the other one and did the same. He had to hold me up. My nipples had not brought me that much pleasure in years. It was fantastic. My body was on fire and tingly from head to toe. All over. I wanted my tits sucked forever right then.

After he did that, I dropped to my knees and sucked him off–I wanted a dick in my mouth and I didn’t really care if that’s what he wanted or not. He, of course, didn’t mind. I sucked him until he shot his load in my mouth and then I sucked him dry, licking it all up. My body was still humming, my eyes half rolled in the back of my head but I was coherent enough by this point and it was close enough to quitting time that we just bolted.

(That night we were to all three go out. I was very naughty that night; I’m pretty sure strangers may have inadvertently seen my slutty little vagina that night. I had on a short skirt, platform wedges and had taken my panties off and put them in my purse early on in the night. Squatting down to look at something with my knees spread wide gave many quite the view. We were at some hipster art gallery with naked girls on suspended rings, so I fit the scene nicely I’m sure.)

But I’m not done with our Friday afternoon antics. So we walked out to our cars, which were in full view of our office on the 12th floor, if anyone was looking down our way. Once we were there we realized he never spanked me during all of this. He liked to spank me and I’m very fond of that, so it was surprising that it never happened.

However, we couldn’t much do it there, we were too much on display. We found an open stairwell. It was dirty and stinky and didn’t have doors or anything, just open. We went down a flight until we were in the middle of the floors and I put my hands against the cold dirty concrete, sightly bent over. He flipped my skirt up and spanked my ass hard. It echoed in the stairwell, my screams did too. We would’ve been heard easily if anyone was in earshot.

He continued to spank me. He slapped my ass harder than he ever had before and probably harder than I’d ever received. It fucking hurt and I loved it. I knew my skin had to be red as hell; it was on fire. It was wearing me out, all of the endorphins that were being released, mixed with pleasure and combined with the dirty sluttiness of being spanked in a dirty stairwell. And my nipples were still throbbing. I was loud as I wanted to be because I didn’t give a shit, so he hit me harder because he was getting off on the echo and my noises.

We finally calmed down and I took my hot, red, bare ass and rubbed it up against his hard dick through his jeans; they were scratching my worn-out ass and that felt fucking awesome too. We regained some composure and walked back to our cars and went our separate ways to get ready for the evening. I never came (vaginally) during the whole afternoon. But that night, in my living room, with my ass high in the air I was fucked in the ass by a rather large dildo being administered by his wife while he watched, and I came and came.

And now I’m horny as fuck and I want you to ream my ass.

She was straddling his lap and had her hand on the back of his neck. She loved that part of him; neither was quite sure why. He was sucking on her lower lip as she stroked his head. He unsnapped her bra and released her full breasts. He pulled her shirt up and kissed her nipples, holding her tits up with his hands as he sucked and bit lightly.

She lead him by the hand upstairs to her bed. They were fumbling with each others’ pants like freshman and kissing each other at the same time. Her perverted cat sat at the foot of the bed and watched.

She pulled his cock out of his pants, stroked it and stared up at him. He closed his eyes and put his head back on the pillow while running his hand through her hair. She smiled, and then suddenly went down on him, holding the base of his cock in her hand while she bobbed up and down. He moaned quietly and his hips began to move involuntarily.

He stopped her just in time; he wanted to come, but not yet. He pulled her up to him and kissed her hungrily. She sucked on his lower lip and rested her hand on his chest.

He looked at her through narrowed eyes and smiled. He moved out from under her and softly but firmly pressed her face-down into the bed. Starting at her neck, he slowly worked his way down her back, kissing her shoulder blades, the small of her back, her supple ass. She had her hands on the pillow, on either side of her head, which was turned to one side. Her eyes were closed.

Quickly, before she could even tell what he was doing, he had spread her ass apart and his tongue found its way deep into her asshole. He licked and flicked his tongue against her. Two fingers probed deeply into her cunt and she grew wetter and wetter with each stroke.

She moaned and writhed beneath his tongue and hands, and her legs opening wider and wider as he moved deeper and deeper into her ass and cunt, both loosening and loosening as he stroked her. She moved back into him and held him by the head, forcing him even deeper inside her. His breathing became shallow as his erection became harder and harder.

He suddenly moved upwards, kissing and licking her mouth as she strained her neck sideways to bite his tongue and kiss his lips. They were beyond words, communicating simply by thrusting and lust.

Then he was inside her. He held her hips in his hands as he pumped into her pussy. He had one foot on the bed beside her knee and pulled her against his throbbing cock over and over again. He forced himself to slow down, to regulate his breathing, forced himself into deliberate control… he wanted to cum, needed to, but not yet. He had other things in mind.

While he fucked her, he continued to work on her asshole, first with his fingers, and then with his thumb. He could feel his cock throbbing against his thumb as both pumped deeper and deeper into her, and he could feel her body respond more and more completely as he moved in her. He slowed his hips gradually, and then pulled out completely. She was still moving, unable to catch her breath completely.

to be continued…

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I’ve not gotten the rest of this story, so don’t hold your collective breath, folks.

I met DJ when I was eight.  She was one of my mother’s many lovers, but the only one with whom I am still in contact.  Having the absolute conviction that she loves me unconditionally has helped me through life.  My sixteenth year was a particularly hard one:  I lost my virginity, I had my first “real” relationship, and I moved out on my own.  DJ gave me her unique counsel.

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Suzanne, a person of sixteen years.  Lived half socially unacceptable, half nuclear.  Caucasian in body, defineless in spirit.  A doubter of self, a watcher of others, a question mark the base of her emotion.  Filled with wonder at the meaning of it all.  Surely she cant’ be the only one who won’t catch the ball, and just what makes the masses play day after day?

How can she be expected to understand the contrary ways of a world not of her design?  A giant in a dwarf’s playground.  Naive or clean slate do not capture her essence; it isn’t what she knows but what she is.  So sweet and infinite in depth.  A willingness and openness, a burden gift from a god not yet of her understanding.  Forever blessed with the vision of light and dark.

Going against the American grain, she did not ask to be different, nor did she choose, picking between a personal right or wrong is not a defiant action; it is what makes each one of us uniquely ourselves.

The more she sees, the more she learns, bombarded into confusion.  Rules and puzzle pieces fly her way and from behind her daze she continues to wonder, “Just what the hell is this all about?”  Her survival listens to the faint self knowledge that she’s okay, but unable to turn down the volume of voices that say she’s not.

My “Nanner,” sixteen years in age, with all this vast feeling within her.  Sensations that reach beyond her physical being.  No words in the English language to describe it.  She is not what she appears, this body only interferes, if only this were a spirit world, she’d understand then.

Sweet one so young, you need to know, not in your throat but down in your soul.  You’ve learned your lessons well, but a lesson in life is not the lesson of life.  It takes time.  Be aware of your torso, the sensations here are your “soul,” for lack of a better word that might be “window.”  From here comes your personal strength, your essence and conscience, it isn’t a Rubic’s Cube.  The answers will come to you, don’t look so hard, it will only cause you frustration.  You can’t miss your answers, they’ll come to you along the path you take, or the path that takes you.  Relax as best you can; a generation blossoms between the ages of thirty and forty.

Experience what you know to be 90% safe, look both ways before crossing the street and know beyond knowing that I love you!

Y’all are welcome to submit tidbits for posting here on Random Rim Jobs.  Just email me:  shazamsf@sbcglobal.net.

Way back when J. Lee wrote this for me.  Fun.  I’m so lucky.

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He sat down at his desk, staring at the blank computer screen once again. Every time he had done this familiar routine in the past week, he’d enacted that other familiar routine: procrastination. Surfed the Web, checked email a few dozen times, got up from his chair to make a bite to eat, or take a piss… anything to avoid that well-known feeling.

It wasn’t writer’s block exactly. He had been coursing with ideas throughout the week, but for some reason the words stopped flowing as soon as he sat down to write. He knew he just needed an access point; he decided to just start writing, document the doubts and the evasions and the…

Only now his cat was bothering him. “Jesus Christ, what else?” he’d asked as the feline yowled and bumped against his legs. Then he chuckled. She had told him that her cat was a little pervert; “so her pussy’s perverted… what a surprise…” He threw some food in the cat’s dish and sat back down to continue.

Still nothing. He looked out the window and bit his lower lip. Maybe he should start there, with the lip… she was a mouth person after all… he shook his head. It was getting dusky outside, so he decided it was his last chance to go for a jog in the park up the hill without breaking his ankle.

He got back just as it was getting truly dark. He had walked past a family of deer in the middle of the street, which he took as a good omen. There was magic in the air; all he had to do was find to a way to unleash it.

The phone rang. “Fuck, it’s probably my mom,” he thought to himself. But it wasn’t; it was an ex-girlfriend. “Huh,” he though. “Maybe I can use this…” He knew that she would like his ex, she was tall and slim and beautiful, with a bright smile and full lips… and he knew they both liked girls, too, which wasn’t necessarily important in fantasyland but still would make it easier to play with… but no. He didn’t want to use up all his ammunition on this story; he had to save something for later, something to build up to. This one could be simple, a single scene even. He just had to write it.

“Start with what you know about her,” he thought. Okay. He knew she had an office with a door, and a big plate glass window that faced the support staff. He pictured his own office, back in Seattle, with a big window in the door, and the times he’d brought girls there at night or on weekends to fuck. There had been no reason to use the office in those situations, of course, but they still almost invariably had. Something about being in that familiar space, bending a girl over the desk he sat at every day… he could use this…

He started writing. “We’re at your office on a Saturday evening.” He started fondling his cock through his running shorts as he envisioned the scene. His head was already beginning to cloud a little, which always happened when he became aroused. He shook his head and continued.

You’re sitting in your chair, and I’m kneeling in front of you. You have one leg thrown over the arm of the chair and the other is pressing into the ground. Your skirt is bunched up at the waist and your panties are around your ankle. I had initially just moved them to the side, holding them with one hand as I licked your pussy, flicked the tip of your clit with my tongue until it was huge and red, stuck two fingers in your quim and stroked the inside of your wet cunt.

I moved forward quickly, pressing my salty mouth against yours and sucking greedily on your tongue. You fumbled with your panties, trying to pull them off but your fingers kept slipping off the waist as I fingered your clit. The crotch of your panties was soaked, and the back of your skirt was becoming wet, as well. You stood up quickly and put your hands on my shoulders, pushing me away. My eyes were unfocused and my breath came in gulps. You rested your head on my chest and inhaled deeply. You stepped lightly out of your skirt and underwear, looked up at my face, and smiled.

You were still wearing your blouse, but it was only half buttoned; as you’d fumbled in your purse for the keycard to unlock the office, I’d stood behind you, my throbbing cock pressed into your ass and my hands under your shirt. My left hand reached through the gap where I’d unbuttoned your blouse, and I had your right breast cupped in my palm. I rolled your nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

Now you started to take off your shirt, but I stopped you; I liked the idea of fucking a clothed woman, it gave it a sense of urgency and suspense, as if we might get caught at any minute. You smiled again, and put the fingers of your left hand in my mouth. I ran my tongue along the edge of your forefinger and bit lightly on its tip.

With your right hand you had been steadily removing my pants. First the belt; then the button; finally the zipper. My pants fell around my ankles and you lowered yourself to your knees. You kept your fingers in my mouth, and I held your hand lightly as I sucked on your fingers. With my other hand I ran my fingers through your hair and brushed it back so I could see your face.

My erection strained against my boxers and you worked it out of the fly with your mouth. You held it at the base firmly and put your mouth over the fat head. You ran your tongue around the tip, licking the spot underneath where the vein rolled up the shaft. I groaned slowly and fought the urge to move my hips.

You had taken your fingers from my mouth and now held my ass with your hand. You pulled me into you as you pumped onto my cock, and your eyes lifted to watch my reaction. My head had lolled to one side, and my breath came in shallow gasps. Your hand moved from my ass to your pussy and you rubbed your clit quickly between two fingers. You moaned as I pulled your hair back in a ponytail and began to gyrate my hips.

“Stop… you have to stop…” I mumbled, and then I stepped back quickly and my penis flipped upwards. You ran your middle finger along the corner of your mouth and laughed.

“What’s the matter, baby? Can’t keep up with me?”

My eyes suddenly cleared, widened and flashed green. I shook my head and smiled. The look made you nervous… but only slightly. I stuck my thumb in your mouth and caressed your lower lip.

“You are a bad, bad girl, aren’t you? I think you need a spanking.”

I pulled you to your feet and kicked the office chair out of the way; it spun as it rolled backwards. I turned you around and rested my hand, lightly but firmly, on the back of your neck. You bent over your desk.

* * * * * * *
He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. There it was. Nothing too extreme, of course, but that was the point. A first chapter. It was a solid foundation, on which many things could be built. Many possible directions to explore. He cupped the tip of his penis in his palm and pulled lightly on his balls as he reread the story.

Pasting it into a blank email message, he hit send and went to call his ex-girlfriend back.

Friend of Random Rim Jobs, Ryan, wrote this lovely tidbit for me.  You can find out more about him:  http://ryansporn.tumblr.com/.

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Here is the story of my first homosexual experience. It also serves as a bit of a lesson that lying is bad, even Online.

I had posted an ad on Craig’s List Casual Encounters that was totally honest.  It said I had just gotten divorced, was bi-curious, and interested in meeting a guy who would let me suck him.  I wanted to start with that experience and then see how things went from there.  My thinking was that guys like blow jobs and are generally selfish, so it would be a great way to start.

I started trading e-mails with a few guys, most of them of course were sort of crude jerks (they were guys after all) but I remember one guy seemed nice and he was actually pretty close to me (geographically), so I figured it would be good.  He said he also was not very experienced with other guys and that he would be fine if we started with just a brief oral encounter for the first time.  As we chatted back and forth about stuff he also sent me a picture (he claimed it was him and his nephew, a little kid of about 4, which was freaky).

What he didn’t realize was that he had responded to another, earlier, similar ad I had posted.  His response to my prior ad included the same e-mail content and everything, even the same cock picture, but that time he’d included a face pic, which didn’t match what he’d just sent me with the “nephew.”  The cock was consistent and it did look nice and it was difficult to tell the size in the close-up picture; he told me it was 7″ and thick.  (This is a whole other issue about cock size–so many guys are obsessed with it, but I’ve noticed most girls really don’t seem to give a shit.  I’ve measured my own, 6″, which seems less than what guys seem to think is good, but no woman has ever complained, even some who were brutally honest about other issues.)

So things were obviously a little weird with this guy.  He seemed nice, but these little odd things and inconsistencies were there.  Anyway I decided to meet up with him.  He said he had a girlfriend who didn’t know anything he was doing, and for obvious reasons I didn’t want to host him, so we agreed to meet in his Suburban in a parking lot of an vacant store.  I also told him I was a little short on time, planning to have an out in case things were odd.

Ends up that was a good plan.  When I got there he was totally like the picture with his nephew, so that was at least good, I would be REALLY worried about a guy who sent out such an odd pic that wasn’t even really of him.

He had just wanted to pretty much get down to business, which I figured would be ok for my first time.  So I got in his surprisingly spacious Suburban.  He led me as I took a hold of his sweats and pushed them down to reveal …

NOT THE SAME FUCKING COCK!

I mean seriously, WHAT THE FUCK?!  Twice he sent me a picture of some other dude’s cock.  On top of that he was small–shorter and a bit thinner than myself and I’d never call my cock thick.  I wouldn’t have minded his size, except he’d told me differently and therefore he’d lied, again.  What I don’t get is what he was thinking when he told me.  I mean did he think I wouldn’t notice he was like half as big as he’d said he was?  I still don’t get it.

To this day I don’t know why I didn’t just get the fuck out of Dodge right then; maybe because I’ve never really been that great at saying no to people.  Anyway, I proceeded to suck him off and actually despite all the crap involved with the experience I did really like it.

He was a little rough with me which I didn’t like, mostly just because it was him doing it.  He came pretty quickly, and when he did he pulled out and shot into my mouth as he stroked himself, which was a bit disappointing; I had wanted to feel him pulse inside my mouth.

As he was getting his pants on he started talking about how much he’d like to see my ass and asked if I had any panties I could wear for him and if I’d ever be interested in perhaps giving a try to bottoming.  I was really noncommittal to everything and made sure to remind him that I was in a rush and had to be going (thank God I had thought to mention that earlier).  As he drove away I was really happy I’d gotten there early and parked a little way away near some other cars so he couldn’t tell which car was mine.

Since then I’ve gotten some e-mails from him.  He seemed pretty desperate at first, but as I continue to not respond he seems to have gotten the hint.  I see his Suburban driving in the neighborhood every now and then and I can’t help but think to myself, “What a stupid little shit!” every time I see it.  The irony is if he’d just been honest with me we most likely could have had some great repeat fun together.  The location was great and I was pretty inexperienced with guys and would have likely just stayed with one I knew already.  But he fucked it all up be being stupid enough to lie to me.  I really just don’t see the point.

So, that was my first homosexual experience and it was when I knew I was bi for sure; when even an idiot like that was enjoyable to suck off I knew I must actually like sucking cocks a lot.

[Continued from Under the Crimson Moon, “The Ice Cream Shop:  A Fantasy (pt 1) (via @ShazamSF).]

I stuffed the slip of paper into my pocket and helped the girl down off the counter. Her long, straight, brunette hair hung down, obscuring her face; it wasn’t long enough to hide her full, firm breasts, though. I led the anonymous girl over to an empty table, away from the three other patrons. She bent forward over the table and I sat down in the chair facing her bare ass.

I was still inexplicably erect, and it didn’t feel like it was going to subside any time soon, so I decided to make the most of the situation. I stood and opened my shorts. They fell immediately to the floor, leaving me to stand with my tented boxers in plain view of the other customers. Only the cute girl glanced over. Once she looked away, I pushed my boxers down, causing my growing erection to spring free.

Her legs were spread but I pushed them together, bringing her hips a little higher. Taking my dick in hand, I drew the head along her slit, coating it in her arousal and whatever saliva was left from the girl before me. I took a moment to stroke her pussy without penetrating her. She squirmed and writhed on the table every time I pushed against her clit, and each time the cute girl looked over. Once I was nice and hard, I spread her open as much as I could and popped the head into her clenching cunt.

Now, I’m not exactly what you’d call “well-hung,” but nor am I small. I’m pretty average. But poised at this girl’s opening, her small, tight body made my cock look huge. I could see her gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles as I pushed into her.

I wasn’t even halfway in before the clerk came over with a bucket of vanilla in one hand and a bottle of Hershey’s syrup in the other. The scoop rode in the pocket of his apron. He set the syrup and ice cream down on the table next to me and peeled the lid off the bucket. He dug out the first scoop and stepped to my table.

“Actually,” I said before he could put the scoop in the small of the girl’s back. “Could you put them here?” I drew a circle with my finger on the highest point of the girl’s ass, about two inches in front of where my penis penetrated her.

The girl had developed a light sheen of sweat, and when the scoop of frozen cream hit her hot skin, she flinched and almost jerked off my shaft. I held her hips tight as I leaned into her; she couldn’t go anywhere.

The ice cream began to melt immediately. One rivulet drew a line to the small of her back, while another traced a path between her ass cheeks and down onto the base of my shaft. I let a little more run down before filling her completely. As our bodies came together, the ice cream collected in the pool created by her ass and my trimmed pubes.

The second scoop joined the first and they managed to stay put. The clerk left the scooper in the craters left in the bucket, and retrieved the chocolate syrup.

“Hang on,” I said, just as he was about to pour the syrup on top of the ice cream. I drew my shaft out until the head was all that remained inside her and let the ice cream melt a bit more. I slid into her slowly again, more easily this time, and pushed some of the melted vanilla cream into her vagina. The girl writhed and bucked against my plunging cock, but I held her still. I throbbed deep inside her, flexing into the conflicting cold and hot.

Buried deep inside her, I picked up one of the ice cream scoops with my hand, fondled it like a bar of soap, and carefully put it back. With a tilt of my hips, I pulled out of the girl’s cunt and gripped my dick with the hand covered in ice cream.

“Right here,” I told the clerk, gesturing to the shaft in my hand. It felt so cold, like it was freezing my penis solid. It was almost painful; I couldn’t feel the syrup as he squeezed it onto my shaft.

“Leave it,” I groaned as I began to push my cold cock into the girl’s hot pussy. The conflicting sensations were overwhelming; I had to stop halfway in so I wouldn’t come too early.

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The story continues.  Go to under the crimson moon for more.

J Lee responded to the same Craig’s List ad that Seattle Guy did:  it was under Strictly Platonic as I was looking for guy FRIENDS.

J Lee:

Just moved to town.  And looking for friends. Female friends are always good, for me, as it seems that male friends are for you?

But yeah… I’m interesting and attractive and funny and all that (unfortunately?). But, I mean, I’m also really good at just being friends, and would be down with just hanging out and talking, or going out for a movie, or dancing, or a few drinks, or whatever.

That’s it. I’ve attached a pic.

The photo attached was of a cute, very sweet-looking guy with big blue eyes.

SSF:

You’re lucky I’m not an eye person.  I’m more of a mouth person.  Otherwise we couldn’t talk.

J Lee:

Whew, that IS lucky… I promise to be really boring when and if we talk.  You’re one of the funny ones, aren’t you? I can tell.

SSF:

I am fucking funny.  Boring would be good.

J Lee:

Deal. I’ll talk about the stock market and lettuce.

It’ll be like your picture; imagine we’re in a bar, and I’m telling a story about the time I was in line for two hours at the DMV, but I’m telling it in real time so the story really is taking, like, two hours… and you’re so bored you’re watching the Giants game on the television…

It’ll be like that. Perfect, right?

SSF:

Stock market boring, lettuce actually may hold interest for me.

I would have to be pretty fucking bored to prefer watching a Giants game.

Approaching nice, not near perfect.  Keep working on it.

J Lee:

I’m onto you, you know… you and your people have set up cameras all over my house, haven’t you? And I’m unwittingly competing with 29 other men to see who can be the most boring, aren’t I?

Well, let me tell you something… I’M IN IT TO WIN IT.

I wear sock garters.
I eat canned peas and margarine.
I spend an inordinate amount of time at the microfish machine at the public library, investigating fishing stories from the 1960’s.
I collect pocket lint.
I read the “terms and conditions” of subscription web sites for fun.
I spend my weekends bundling newspapers for the recycling center.
I dream in black. Not black and white; just black.

SSF:

I’ve kind of lost track of how many are competing, but my people have that information.  They do have to keep track of all the cameras after all.

I have the utmost confidence in you. Unfortunately you’re making me laugh.

But you’re very boring, it’s true.  Keep telling me how boring you are.

J Lee:

“Yeah, that’s right, I’m boring,” he said again. “I’m so boring, I make Jehovah’s Witnesses check to see if their watches are still running. I play the recorder. I tivo the Home Shopping Network. What’s got two thumbs and loves prune juice?” He made fists with both his hands and pointed his thumbs at his chest. “THIS GUY!”

Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape; she shook her head slowly. “So boring,” she whispered.

He pointed down at his feet. “Brown socks and sandals.” He held up his hand in front of his face and pointed at his wrist. “Digital.” He tapped quickly at the keys. When he showed it to her, upside down, it read, “you are reading this on my calculator watch.”

“Oh god… bore me more, please, bore me more…”

“I bore so well termites come to me for advice. I’m boring, I tells ya… I’m so boring I go into chat rooms and pretend to be a librarian. My favorite video game is Virtual Plumber. You know that Andy Warhol movie ‘Sleep’?” He nodded sagely. “I was an extra.”

Her breathing slowed; her eyelids fluttered; she was out. He removed a perfectly-folded gray blanket from the top of an immaculately-stacked pile of identical gray blankets. Smiling, he shook it out and laid it gently over her prone form, tucking it lightly under her chin. He settled down into his la-z boy recliner and resumed his reading: “Consumer Reports Best American Toasters of the 1990s.”

SSF:

Damn you!  Stop being funny!  I still like mouths more than eyes though.

The identical perfectly-folded gray blankets actually appeals to me; I may be a little OCD.

Why do you research fishing of the 60s and toasters of the 90s?  Other than that they’re boring as fuck?

J Lee:

Yup, you got it. I actively seek out boring things to study just because I’m so… fucking…

Well you know.

I hate to admit it, but since you brought it up again, and in the interest of full disclosure… I’ve been told I have a lovely mouth, too.

And not just by the boys in cell block D, either. Smartass.

SSF:

Why do I even read emails from you any more?  Sometimes I do have a bit of trouble getting back to sleep after I’ve taken the dog to the park in the morning, and well, you’ll suffice.

How did you know I was thinking of the guys in D Block?

Who told you have a “lovely” mouth?

J Lee:

Oh come on, give me a bit of credit; anyone with half a sense of humor would think the same thing if a boy said that he’d been told he had a “lovely mouth”… and since we’re already established that you’re fucking funny, it was an easy assumption…

Several young ladies have admired my mouth over the years, actually. For starters I have unnaturally straight teeth. And if you look at my picture again, you may notice that my lower lip is actually quite large and full.

SSF:

So I guess we can’t be friends really.  Since I’m a sucker for straight teeth and full lips.

And you’ve made me laugh.  Too bad, ’cause I’d like to be friends.

Bore me some more, would you?

J Lee:

Yeah, that is too bad… I’d like to be friends, too…

But the truth of the matter is that, if you really are trying to be good, it might not be the greatest idea for us to become too friendly. ‘Cause I am actually kinda bad. Okay, okay… kinda REALLY bad.

And while I can’t promise to be good, or even to try to be good… I can and do promise to try to try to be good. And trying to be good is, after all, about as boring as it gets, right? So maybe it really COULD all work out…

But hey, emailing is harmless, right? So maybe we can just be pen pals or something.

SSF:

Tell me how bad you are.

J Lee:

How bad do you want me to be?

SSF:

VERY.

J Lee:

I’m not nearly as bad as I could be, but often a lot worse than I should be.

And just when I think I’m being good, I somehow find myself contemplating very bad things indeed.

SSF:

Tell me.  Give me an example.

Are you contemplating bad things now?

J Lee:

“…so tell me. Give me an example.” A light shone in her gray-blue eyes as she smiled. “Are you contemplating bad things now?”

He closed his eyes and smiled too. Putting his hand on the back of his head, he sighed and shook his head ever so slightly. When he opened his eyes, he stared directly into hers and his smile broadened. He had unnaturally straight teeth that glinted in the light reflected by the mirror behind the bar.

He didn’t say a word, but the message in his gaze was clear. A flush rose in her cheeks. Not one to easily fluster, she was caught off guard… but only for a moment. She stirred the ice cubes in her drink, took a sip, and then returned his gaze confidently. Now it was his turn to blush. He laughed and reached across the table, trying to catch her hand. Her eyes widened, and she puffed her lower lip out. “I told you, I’m trying to be good…” her voice trailed off as his foot found hers beneath the table. His toe traced a line up her calf, the inside of her knee… a slight intake of breath, barely audible. He came around the table to her, slowly.

SSF:

What bar are we in?

J Lee:

It’s a bar where everything looks vaguely familiar. You might have been there a few times before, but you don’t recognize anybody. The lights are low, and the decor is dark red. We’re in a corner booth, very private. It’s late, and most people have already gone home. No one is paying much attention to what we’re doing… but your eyes are half closed, and your head is leaning back, and you’re asking for more.

And I’m asking what you need to finish.

SSF:

I’m impatient but I do love the anticipation.

J Lee:

What can I offer you for now… a little taste… a teaser, as you say…

Something about my hand, under the table, under your skirt… drawing figure eights with my finger along the inside of your thigh, the line of your panties, the crease in between… wet folds enveloping my fingers as you look around the bar, checking if anyone is watching… your own hand moves to my lap, your palm resting softly on the outline of my shaft through my pants…

Maybe some young lady is watching from the corner? I don’t know, it’s a work in progress…

SSF:

Do you like panties, or should I be wearing none?  I get very wet.

J Lee:

I’m sitting here trying to decide… I go back and forth… and back and forth… and back again…

I do love panties… as a word, a concept… but skirts with no panties, and you dripping wet… running down your legs, over my hand… that’s hard to resist…

But then again, moving your panties to the side, rubbing your clit with my thumb and your panties are just soooo wet…

See what I mean? Back and forth.

Why don’t you surprise me…

SSF:

For some reason I have to read everything you write twice.  Um, very hot.  Very hot.

Where are your fingers while you’re rubbing my clit with your thumb?

J Lee:

With my first two fingers I’m stroking your labia. Tugging it on the downstroke, but you’re so wet my middle finger (which is on the inside) enters you each time… and my other hand is just lightly resting on your neck, and we’re pretending like we’re having a simple conversation… but it’s really hard to keep our hips from gyrating, and you keep rolling your head back slightly, you are trying to control it but at some point you can’t… and there’s a moan that’s caught right at the back of your throat, you’re fighting it and fighting it but it keeps rolling forward…

Yes, we eventually met, and had lots of great sex until he moved back from whence he came.  I really do find it difficult to be friends with guys when they write this well, and I’m not the only one.

I swear.  True story.