The wheels on the bus go round and - HEY WHAT IS THAT UNDER MY ASS??
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Posted:Nov 15, 2010 9:26 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 7:43 pm
22273 Views
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Remember my posts long ago about how I am a magnet for the odd and creepy of the world?
Magnetic Personality part 1, Magnetic Personality part 2, and Magnetic Personality part 3
Well I left the biggest one out. The one that affected me more than any other.
I had a stranger grab my ass once on a bus.
I’m not talking a little feel me up and go while standing in the aisles or anything. No I mean I was seated and some homeless guy in the seat next to me slipped his hand under my ass while the bus tumbled through potholes and all my books fell to the floor. I’m guessing it happened when I bent over to pick them up, I’m not sure. For a while I thought it was one of my books. So that hand got a nice warm feel for probably a mile or two; I’m not sure. Of course when I realized (and got over the shock of his gumption) I hurt him pretty bad. A sharp elbow to the bicep was just not enough of a payback though.
Obviously the man had a serious ass fetish. But this is the most confusing part.
He never saw my ass!!!
I was seated when he got on the bus. I remained seated the entire time. And this was way before low riders were back in style. it isn’t like he saw butt crack and had to have it!
That, my friends, is desperation. To grab an ass anonymously; I could have had the flattest boniest ass on the planet. How was he to know? My ass could have hurt his skinny little hand! And how the hell did his hand not fall asleep under there? I mean he wasn’t moving or grabbing or anything. His hand was just there.
These things I will never understand but the whole ass fetish thing makes me wonder what people do in desperation to satisfy their fetish when the urges strike. Is there some ass grabbing glory hole out there? Do these people walk around with a roll of Charmin to ease their need in a pinch?
Of course I make it sound like I don’t care about a man’s ass. It might be fair to say that it doesn’t matter that much to me. I’m going to grab on and pull you in deeper whether it’s flat or flabby, I’m not picky. Now come have a seat next to me and let’s see if my hand falls asleep…
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The Brussel Sprouts of Sex
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Posted:Nov 14, 2010 10:55 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 7:47 pm
20675 Views
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When we are we were taught to try new foods; to taste it before deciding if we like something or not. What’s better is, our tastes change as we grow older. For years I was always drawn to the skinny guys, the wiry, tall and lanky men. Now I’m drawn to the gym rat. Muscles just get to me. It isn’t anything that could have been predicted ahead of time. If I’d said I hate muscle bound men when I was in my 20’s and stuck to that I would have missed out on some incredible men.
So why would Anal sex be any different?
Early on I made the statement that I do not like Anal sex and stuck to it for years; swore I'd never consent to it. Initially I made the decision based on stigma. It is dirty and I didn’t understand why anyone would want that. I eased on the statement when I was in my early 20’s as I was at a self-esteem low and was with a boyfriend who convinced me to try it.
Following that I nearly made it part of first date conversation:
“Hi, I’m Cricket and I will not have anal sex with you ever, don’t even bother asking.”
But then I realized that it wasn’t fair to judge and dismiss something based on a narrow set of experiences. If I am the open minded person I always felt I was, how could I close my mind to this without complete exploration? So when my (now ex-) husband brought it up, I opened my mind – and more.
He and I explored a multitude of options and techniques yet I ended up returning to my original conclusion. I don’t like it. I understand the draw and I no longer feel that stigma that I used to feel; I simply don’t enjoy it. There isn’t any part of it that provides arousal for me. Since that is the entire point of a sexual act I make sure my partners and I focus on other areas instead. I don't ever feel like I'm missing out, nor am I being narrowminded.
However, I try really hard not to make it a permanent absolute. As I said, our tastes change through life. It is impossible to predict the future. But for now - exit only for me!
I’m sorry, I just realized I compared Anal sex to vegetables and muscular men. This little project of mine is already messing with my brain!!!
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Smells Like Old Man Spirit....
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Posted:Nov 14, 2010 12:20 am
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 7:51 pm
20697 Views
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I have previously written on the topic of Age difference. I dismissed younger men outright in the blog post Young Studs. I still claim that I am a terrible teacher and I refuse to be Mrs. Robinson just yet.
So it is only fair that I focus this post on the other side of the age difference coin. Older men.
I was the first grandchild in my family for many years. So I learned how to speak adult before I learned to speak . I like Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. I grew up with the Beatles and The Doors. I still have a vinyl record in my house (several in fact). I even subjected my to In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida recently. I think Fred Astaire was the sexiest dancer ever.
My tastes tend towards those that match older men. It is that simple. And though that might make me wish to be around them it doesn’t actually make them sexy. Why?
Smell…
No seriously. When I hear the term “older man” my nose starts to itch. I start to wonder if they’ve already reached the “old man smell” stage of life. I mean how can you imagine giving a blow job to an “older man” with that on your mind? Totally screws with the sexual tension!
It is about maturity, not about age. Mature men are surer of themselves; they can inspire an interesting discussion and even hold an argument worthy of my stubbornness. Of course I’m drawn to those who match me sexually, and would really like the company of a man who enjoys life the same way I do, but the minute you say you’re an “old man” it changes everything. It turns me into a and/or a gold digger. It sets a hierarchy that isn’t conducive to a bedroom invitation from me.
For the record: calling me “young lady” doesn’t help either. My brain substitutes “little lady” and instantly I want to break into an Orphan Annie sing along.
Don’t make age the issue. I’m well aware there are immature men of all ages out there and your maturity is much more important to me than your birth certificate.
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Disclosure
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Posted:Nov 12, 2010 9:05 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 7:53 pm
36179 Views
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A fellow blogger noticed that some of our blogs have recently gone sexually dormant. He's right, at least as far as my own posts go. We are on a sex site after all.. If I want to blog about my mundane, day to day life it might be a better fit for a different blog site.
Okay, admittedly I've been a bit 'off' lately. Slightly hibernating, kinda down. But since I am in control of my own life I will bring myself out of this sexless funk like a big girl.
In order to get my gears going again I've decided to push myself into a little assignment. Every day I will write a blog post specifically focused on a differnt Senior Sizzle blog forum topic. The first of which is "Aging/Age differences". There are something like 80 forums listed so this could get rather interesting.
But if this project doesn't get my sexual brain in gear I'll go steal a prescription pad instead - how's that?
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Sex with your eyes?
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Posted:Nov 6, 2010 11:09 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 7:56 pm
21030 Views
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I’ve always been drawn to musicians.
Aside: for those of you gentleman who would normally say “well I play a little guitar” or “yeah, I used to be in a band” – that stuff simply does NOT work. Those statements leak desperation and occasionally failure.
Back to my point.
20 years ago I was living in San Francisco and in a long term relationship with a drummer. During that time Def Leppard came to town. They have always been one of my favorites so we went to the show with my boyfriend’s band mates. I’d followed Def Lep since High School and though everyone else was ooing and ahhhing over Joe Elliot (the lead singer) I had this major crush on Rick Savage (the bass player) and dismissed Elliot as being plain and uninteresting.
After the show our base player, who remains a close friend, surprised us all. It turns out he and Joe Elliot had known each other for years. He had a few words with a stage hand and before we knew it we were on our way backstage to meet the band.
I laughed as the girls in our cluster all took their jackets off and fixed their hair and make-up on the way backstage (we were all with our boyfriends, what on earth did they think would happen?!!). But it turned out to be me who was the popular one. Being quite un-shy I made the rounds meeting everyone and making friends. Lars Ulrich of Metallica was there too and apparently I spoke to him for a while though I don’t remember that part. And Yes, I was sober! My mind was already working on something else.
We socialized for quite a while and had a good time. But there is one thing I took away from the encounter that remains with me to this day. When I met Joe Elliot, we connected in a strange way. I shook his hand and all that but during the exchange and for most of the ensuing conversation between him and my friends, his eyes and mine were locked together. If ever two people could have sex with their eyes that was it. It wasn’t even just simple sex either. It was something much more intense. For weeks afterward I couldn’t get those eyes out of my head, nor all the fantasies my brain had generated quite quickly. To this day I can bring the image of his eyes to mind again at will.
I saw them on tour a couple of years ago and was supremely disappointed. They were desperately in need of some personal training time and Joe seemed to lose his breath when running across the stage.
But that doesn’t matter. Because I remember those eyes.
Of all of the sex I’ve had in my life that eye contact exchange ranks among the most intriguing even though the handshake was the only physical interaction between us. The fact that I can relive it whenever they are on the radio keeps it always fresh.
Ever been lured with nothing but eye contact and a handshake before?
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Born again What???
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Posted:Oct 21, 2010 9:23 am
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 8:02 pm
20920 Views
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Okay my cousin, a 31 year old male from Chicago, just informed me he is a born again virgin.
Of course he would choose to tell me this while my mouth is rubber banded shut. The ensuing laughter caused great pain and couldn't be helped. I almost fell out of my chair.
Now his idea of born again virgin is not the same as I'd always heard. He said he refuses to sleep with a girl unless he really really likes her. I thought BAVs remained that way until marriage. Maybe this is the male version?
You know me, my response through my teeth was something about how much men suddenly like any girl who says the word "yes" or otherwise appears willing and was this any different?
I think this is the first time I have come accross a BAV in person (and as soon as I can talk I will point out how he really isn't one and is kidding himself). But it got me to wondering - anyone else come accross any BAVs out there? Do they still exist or did they all cave in?
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Still have my wits
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Posted:Oct 12, 2010 5:58 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 8:05 pm
21815 Views
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I am out of surgery and have begun the road to recovery.
Thank you everyone for your well wishes.
I actually posted a pic of my swollen scrunched up face with the compression bandages on the book of faceland. I don't want to put it here though. With my luck it would scare away every single potential blow job recipient within web distance!!
So if you aren't planning to enjoy the fruits of my surgeons labor feel free to head over there to look and laugh. Just don't let the fact that my face currently looks like a sumo wrestler's stomach make you sick or anything.
Otherwise please feel free to prepare a little extra protein for my liquid diet. 
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Now officially old and crotchety.
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Posted:Oct 10, 2010 2:30 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 8:07 pm
20799 Views
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It’s funny what makes me feel my age. I’ve realized within the last day just how much I have become set in my ways. My cousin has arrived and settled in. He’s here to help me through my surgery and recovery and staying in my ’s room with him. I’ve jokingly called him my new roommate. Of the approximately 20 hours since his arrival I can officially state:
I do not do well with roommates.
The last time I had a roommate I was in college in a dorm. Even then I went and stayed in my boyfriend’s dorm room instead of spending an ounce of time in my own room with my own roommate.
He and I were up until like 2:30 in the morning talking politics and religion. Well there’s a topic of discussion that should be breeched on the first day of his visit. And really, I might have been wise to hold off on discussion of these particular topics until AFTER my surgery and recovery. We didn’t get into battle or anything but it did get a little testy for a few minutes there.
We had to go watch the first game at a sports bar because our local stations didn’t show the Chicago game. Not a problem, we got a spot that had the Jags game right next to the Bears game. I love going to see football with friends. But when you are talking about two different games at the same time it gets confusing.
The smell of a smoking man…. I could certainly live without that. Plus the constant coffee drinking, ick. I have never liked coffee. But to have the smell of coffee constantly in the air in a small house is very aggravating. Time to buy stock in Febreeze.
But worst of all, though he obviously loves football as much as I do he still talks over the analysts during pre-game. Not to them, but to me - telling me why what they have to say is wrong or misguided.
This will indeed be very interesting. I really need this week to pass quickly.
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Trigger the 5 alarm daydream...
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Posted:Oct 4, 2010 5:18 am
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 8:10 pm
20559 Views
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I know the draw for men but have never found that bikini clad women on a street corner advertising a car wash at all interesting. I've never stopped to get a car wash just because the women were flaunting themselves.
But this weekend... that was a whole different story. This weekend the firemen were out advertising for a charity car wash. Many of them wore their fireman pants/boots with suspenders and NO SHIRT.
FINALLY SOMEONE WAS THINKING ABOUT WHAT I WANT!!!!
Oh, it gets better. In my travels that day I had to pass that corner at least 5 times (a shame right?). The last two times - MY particular fireman was out there, right on the median in the middle of traffic. He, of all of them, should have been shirtless but wasn't. I sooooo wanted to yell out the car window to him but that probably wouldn't have set a good example for my who were in the car. Okay, I wanted to do more than just yell out to him but...
Sometimes having a wild imagination and being a good mom don't actually go well together.
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A visit from a Pecker.
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Posted:Sep 24, 2010 6:12 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 8:12 pm
22295 Views
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There I was, wandering around the house naked. You know, the were at school, why bother wearing clothes? I was thinking that I could really use a great pecker. I haven't had anything so wonderful in a long time and I am loooooong overdue.
But as luck would have it I wasn't likely to have one showing up out of nowhere sooo I got dressed to run some errands.
While dressing I heard a knocking sound. I came out to the living room to see where it was coming from. I checked the front door, nobody there. So I finished dressing. Just as I was walking out the front door I heard the knocking again. Thinking how odd it was I decided to look around the side of my house. Nothing.
Then I looked up and saw it. A pecker, having its way with my chimney.
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Okay not quite the pecker I was looking for.
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I knew her back when...
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Posted:Sep 20, 2010 8:49 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 8:15 pm
21103 Views
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Okay life can be really strange sometimes. I truly believe everything is connected and if we pay close enough attention we can see the links. I just found out the strangest thing and it is totally in line with the theory.
Long before I was on Senior Sizzle I was on the book place (Senior Sizzle edited out the original line here). I didn't load up my page with a ton of people, that wasn't my goal. I thought it fun to re-connect with people I'd lost touch with but that was all. Since I wasn't too fond of high school if a schoolmate asked to friend me I accepted and then usually ignored them after the first exchange. I actually spent a great deal of time on the poker app . It wasn't real money and not mine but I did real well. I made many friends on there from all over the world and they were more interesting than some of my real life friends. We'd chat while we were playing and seek each other out when we were online playing; it was fun.
Then I joined this site and through blogs got to know people from all over the world yet again. Just as much fun (and slightly more sexual) than the fun I was having on the poker app. So much so that I kinda stopped playing the poker game and pretty much dropped usage.
As some of you may recall from a previous post (so long ago) I thought I had a high school fried request and did my normal - accept/ignore. Then I happened to find out it was a fellow blogger on here and I'd confused the two (seriously they have the same name!).
Since my discovery (and her forgiveness for my assholedness) we've become good friends.
Now here's the odd part (and I haven't told her this yet). I popped back on the poker app today after being away for maybe 2 years and began to play again. Still just as good but better now that the World Series of Poker has taken it over. So much better....
Anyway as I'm playing I'm checking out my standings (the fake money doesn't go away) compared to the poker friends I'd made way back when. Kinda looking around to see who is still around and who is playing. Then I see this pic - of that blogger friend. She's listed as one of my friends that I played poker with years ago.
Yup - it's her!!! And the more I thought about it the more I remember her! Her profile pic was always of her legs in some relaxing place. It was always a point of fun we'd all poke at her whenever she was playing at our table. We all showed our faces at some point but she never would. (Okay that's not fair, one guy kept a kilt pic up too)
It totally cracks me up that I used to play online poker with this woman long before I came accross her on Senior Sizzle blogs and even longer before I friended her , much less had lunch with her! And I never put the different pieces of the same person together.
If that isn't a signal that this woman and I should be friends I don't know what is. Talk about connecting the dots!
Now if I could just come accross the guy in Australia who wore the kilt....
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Cravings in between the pages
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Posted:Sep 15, 2010 7:14 pm
Last Updated:Jun 13, 2017 8:18 pm
20492 Views
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I’ve got this odd addiction.
Three days ago I started reading a book. All was going well until last night. Last night I stayed up until 5am reading the damn thing. I keep saying I’ll read until I start getting too tired to read. The problem is if that happens at a juicy point I power through it. On the other side of that tired moment I get a second wind and forget about being tired. I check the clock and tell myself I should get some sleep several times during the night but never give in. I have to get up at 6:30 but I can’t stop. I keep going.
Now this was just an ordinary book and truly not worthy of an all-nighter. So why I was so open to its allure I don’t know. But here’s my question:
Can you imagine if it had been an erotic novel and I was kept up all night with fantasies and sexual tales? I’d have to keep taking breaks to relieve myself. And of course if there were a gentleman kind enough to share the experiment with me…. Well let’s just leave that one as a wishful thought.
So pick out a good book and come on over. Read to me my dear, let’s power through a tired moment together.
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To link to this blog (wittywoman) use [blog wittywoman] in your messages.
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