Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Lila gets busted - and I do a little "busting" of my own

Unfortunately, even if I stop blogging, my life does not slow down, so I am now way behind on everything that's been going on. Time to play a little catch up:

Lila's mother found out about her drugging. "I SMELL POT ON YOUR CLOTHES! YOU'VE BEEN SMOKING AGAIN!" she said.

"No mom, I haven't!!!"

And she's telling the truth! She HASN'T been smoking! Snorting coke, yeah, but no smoking!!

So now Lila is grounded for four weeks, and one more strike and her mother is sending her to rehab. Yikes.

Ever the rebellious teen, Lila tells me to meet her at the 7-11 near her house Monday at midnight. She is waiting for me, smoking a cigarette. She is wearing platform flip-flops and pink jogging shorts. Some scraggly-looking dude is making the lamest attempt at a pickup ever. "Didja ever step on broken glass in yer bare feeeeet?" he is saying as I pull up.

"Get me the HELL outta here," she says.

We drive to my house. She sighs deeply and puts her head on my shoulder, not saying a word.

"Can we watch a movie?" she says when we get to the house.

So we watch a little of "American Beauty" (no Lolita jokes, please) and she starts kissing my neck. I feel pins and needles all up my spine. I have to admit it: This girl knows how to kiss me.

"I'm so glad you're home," she says. "Can I come with you next time you travel?"

"Yeah, I'll just ask your mom for permission. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Fuck her. I'll tell her I'm visiting my dad."


"Don't you usually take a shower at night," she says.



"Ok, you talked me into it," I say.

We go to the bathroom. Lila has a way of taking her clothes off that drives me crazy. She has a certain way of cocking her hips to the side and just sort of languidly pulling her shirt over her head, and sliding her panties silently down her legs...

If Lila has a physical flaw, it's that she's really pale. But she's been mistaken for a Hispanic or an Asian at times, though she isn't either.

I am amazed at her curviness. She has this tiny little waist, with a deep arroyo up the middle of her abdomen. And yet, her hips are round and wide without looking chunky. Her breasts stick out prominently from her small frame, perky and firm, like little pumpkins.

We get in the shower. She closes her eyes and leans her head back, wetting her hair. Now she is looking up at me, her hair plastered down, her big eyes glowing, water dripping from her supple lips.

She hugs me. Tightly.

OK, she's getting a little clingy now. I wasn't gone for a month, you know!

"Baby, I love you, I love you soooooo much. I missed you..."

"I know. I missed you too."

"No you didn't."

"Yeah, I did!" Except for the times I was hitting on every girl from 18 to 38. And fucking that Latina chick.


"Why did I miss you? Because, baby! I LIKE being with you. You know that! I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with than you."

She pulls away and looks at me, smiling. "REALLY?"

"Lila!! Of course! Who can ask for more than you have to offer? You are amazing! In every way. Please just give me time, ok. I want to be the type of guy that you deserve, I just..."

"It's ok," she says, hugging me again. Jesus! "I didn't mean to pressure you. I'm just so happy you are back."

Ok, Ok. Can we fuck now?

She turns around so her back is pressed against me. She picks up her leg and rests it on the shower ledge. She reaches between her legs and rubs me a little. TOTALLY unnecessary. I am raging.

She guides me into her. "MMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she moans. I start to slide myself in and out. She is noticeably hot down there.

I grab her hips and she bends over a little. PERFECT. Lila and I fit in every way sexually. Our heights are perfect for standing-up sex. And I am not huge at all, but just big enough to fill her without hurting...

She flips her hair over one shoulder, turns around and looks at me. She puts some soap on her hand and starts fingering herself. Holy shit.....

I hear her exhale. She is about to come. She grabs my wrist and squeezes hard. "uh. Uh...AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" she moans. She is pulsating like mad.

I look down and watch my cock sliding in and out of her, wet and slimy...I pull her hips up against me tightly and blow my full load into her. Her pussy is so hot that it's almost hard to stay inside her.

After sex like that, I can't just take her home, can I? So after we dry off, I lay down on the bed, and she sits on the floor in front of me, brushing her hair, and we finish watching the movie. It's almost 3:00 now.

I drop her off at the 7-11 ("I love you! Will you please call me tomorrow morning?" she says) and I watch as she crosses the parking lot and climbs into her bedroom window.

Now, time for a blissful 2 1/2 hours of sleep before I have to wake up again.

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

Let's Jeopardy!

There are some girls I should just walk away from. But, as Woody Allen says, "you can live to be 100 if you give up all the things that make you WANT to live to be 100". If I get hit by a bus tomorrow, I want to be satisfied that I didn't sqandor any opportunities to have fun. But sometimes I go too far.

It was Friday. I screwed on Sunday night, and had not whacked it since. I hadn't gone that long without orgasming since I was a kid. A LITTLE kid. I was working out like a beast, and getting kind of ripped! But I was sore as hell, day in and day out. And still horny.

I wasn't thinking about sex less without the masturbation. I was thinking about it MORE. I was obsessing. I wondered if I was striking out with the girls so much because I seemed too desperate. Probably not, since Christie was ALL ready to go, methinks.

The last agent I met with was a guy named Charlie. I didn't have any more appointments scheduled for the day, so I really took my time and worked with him. He's considering selling his book of business to us, and this would be a coup. He actually has a nice little practice going...

Like most agents I met with, Charlie's office is very poorly run. His girlfriend, Mercedes, works as his secretary, and I arrive at the office to find her HAND-WRITING address labels for their clients. And not just one or two: DOZENS!

All their phone numbers are hand-written on index cards, each littered with ugly cross-outs and write-overs, and stuffed into a giant round Rolodex.

I sit down with Mercedes and look at her computer. She's got Microsoft Outlook, Word, Excel, and so on. They probably paid hundreds for the software.

"What do you use it for," I ask.

"Letters, mainly," Mercedes says.

I painstakingly show her how to make entries into her Outlook contact list. And how to print out sets of labels from there. And how to create personalized letters using mail merge.

"Charlie's gonna be pissed," she says.

"Pissed? Why?!"

"He hires his aunt to come in a few days a month and make out the labels. Now he won't need her anymore."

"Tell him to have her answer the phone and sort the mail. This label printing is the most inefficient thing I can imagine."

"OK. Good idea." She is looking at me.

Mercedes is about 25 or 26, and no more than 5 feet tall. She's big-boned, maybe 120 pounds or so, a really curvy Latina girl. She has big brown Cleopatra eyes and thick, pouty lips. And she wears door-knocker earrings, which I find hot. Her hair is shoulder-length and parted in the middle. It smells like Lilacs.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee," she asks.


We spend the rest of the morning talking insurance. Charlie joins us, and he is thrilled with the improvements I've suggested for label printing and mail merging. He is going to have his aunt handle the conversion of Rolodex cards to Outlook contacts, then bring her on to help with the receptionist duties, as I suggested.

"I just worry about what will happen if my computer blows up tomorrow," he says.

"You have nightly backups," I say. "Also, you can print out a hardcopy of all contacts once a month, just to be sure, if you want."

He seems happy with this. "Steve, I can't tell you how much this is going to help my business. Now, Mercedes will be free to help with other projects!"

"Anytime, Charlie."

"Come out with us for a drink tonight."


So the three of us head out to a Karaoke bar at around 8:00 to get loaded. Charlie's a drinker. He gets up and sings "My Way" by Frank Sinatra, and does a damn good job of embarrassing himself.

I look at Mercedes. She just scoffs and finishes her Bloody Mary.

It's 12:30. Charlie gets up to sing "Over the Rainbow" (yes, from the Wizard of Oz), and trips. It's all Mercedes and I can do to get him to stand up.

"Let's get him home," she says.

We get to the house, and as soon as Mercedes opens the door, Charlie bursts through and runs to the bathroom. We can hear him puking.

"He'll probably pass out in there," says Mercedes, shaking her head. She leads me to the kitchen and hands me a beer.

She goes into the bathroom to check on Charlie. I hear the toilet flush.

She comes back into the kitchen. "Passed out," she says.

The toilet runs and runs. "Damn thing," she says. "Charlie can't be bothered to fix it."

"Come on," I say. She follows me to the bathroom.

Charlie is there, curled up in a ball on the floor, snoring. There is a line of mucous running from his lip to the floor. The room stinks of puke. How can that be, if she flushed?

I look at him again. His shirt is covered with semi-digested nachos and guacamole. Nice!!

I remove the lid from the toilet tank, and show her how to adjust the float. The toilet stops running.

"That's IT?" she says. "That's all he had to do!?"


We head back to the kitchen. She takes a pretzel rod from the cupboard and breaks it in two, handing one half to me. Then she takes her shoes off.

(Did you catch that, guys? The shoes came off!!!!!!)

Her toes are French manicured. She has rings on the second toe of each foot.

She smiles at me. "Are you married, Steve?"



"You would make a nice husband," she says. "You know everything. And you are such a good.....leader. You take charge." She shakes her fist a little.

"Thanks, Mercedes! I like you, too. I..."

She is walking towards me.

" the way you do busin-"

She kisses me.

Now she stops and looks at me. My move.

I kiss her.

"mmmfffmfmff--mmfff," she says.


"The bedroom is over there."

So we move to the bedroom and fall on the bed, rubbing and groping each other. Her tits are nice; big, round, soft melons.

Suddenly she gets up and starts walking towards the bathroom.

Uh-oh. WTF?

She comes back, smiling. "Dead to the world," she says.

I am vaguely aware that Charlie probably fucks her on this very bed. But not like I'M going to. It's been a long time.

We undress. I penetrate her. The second I feel her wetness the drug hits me. I am almost blinded with ecstasy. My ears are ringing; my body is quivering, from head to toe.

Mercedes is liking it. "Oooooooo, yeah, baby, fuck me good! Come tear this pussy up!" she is saying.

So I push her knees back and start pounding her, all the way out, all the way in. HARD. And fast, too. Like I said, Mercedes is no waif, and the smacking sounds are getting kind of loud. Her big tits are bouncing all over the place.

"Fuck me with your thick shaft!" she is saying, loudly.

"SHHHHHH!" I say.

"He never wakes up," she says.

He NEVER wakes up? What, does she do this every night? Good thing I'm jimmied up!

My balls start to ache. I can feel the orgasm, building, growing to a huge crescendo. I pull out of her and remove the condom, all in one motion (it takes practice). Then I straddle her with my knees and mash my cock between her tits. Wow. I have been in pussies that didn't feel this good.

Mercedes is still talking. "Yeah, yeah, fuck my tits, baby."

The first wave consumes me. The ringing in my ears grows to a rumble. My body spasms and I blast her with cum. It splatters all over her chin. She flinches as if shot...

I blast her again. And again. And again. And again. At least 5 times. She is a total cum-soaked mess. I have NEVER shot that much, in my life.

"Holy Jesus!!" she says. "Where the fuck do you KEEP all that?"

We laugh.

She gets up to clean herself off. She comes back to the bedroom, and I am already in my boxers. She throws her arms around me and kisses me.

"Come back and visit me soon," she says. "I like the way you fuck. There aren't too many guys who can scratch my itch like that."

Oh, thanks. And by the way, could you call Kelly and tell her that? Because she seems to think I don't do it right.

"OK," I say.

Shit. I just fucked an agent's girlfriend. Doing Lila is bad enough, but this is worse. This is lawsuit material. One big fight, and Mercedes could let slip that I fucked her. And then Charlie could claim that we violated the morality clause of the contract, and take all his clients and split, costing us a truckload of money - and earning me a certain one-way trip to the unemployment line.

Ahhhh, shit. What the FUCK did I just do?

Monday, June 28, 2004

How I DIDN'T spend my June vacation

First things first....I had a wicked day of travelling last Sunday, and saw Victoria that night, and gave her a pounding she won't soon forget. And she got a little, um, "weird" on me. More on that later.

More importantly, Steverino played the little game called "Master of My Domain", which you Seinfeld fans will know all about, and I also succeeded in adding the 36th name to the list of women whom I have "horizontified". But oh, what a fucking gamble I took in doing so. I may have set myself up for some trouble down the road. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I decided last week that I don't like whacking off so much. Maybe I could just....stop for a while. And maybe that would make me less horny! So after hammering Victoria on Sunday, I woke up Monday hoping to stave off the urge to masturbate for the entire week.

I got out of bed, showered, shaved, dressed, and went to my meetings. I also went to the liquor store and bought a bottle of champagne, which I always do when I am'll see why...

I was driving all over the place, speaking to our agents. The meetings went well on Monday morning, and I didn't really think about sex too much. It was working!

So I take an agent to a Chinese place for lunch, and our waitress is very flirty. She keeps grinning at me and biting her lip. Shit......

She bends over to fill my teacup and I could see her bra. Almost the whole thing. She is surprisingly big-chested for an Asian girl. At this point I have been talking business the whole time, and I haven't even said two words to her, so I am figuring she just does this all the time.

"What kind of cologne do you wear," says the agent.

"Obsession, usually."

"Shit, I gotta get me some of that. I come here twice a week, and I can't get Connie to look twice at me. And she's practically flashing you!!"

"Connie? What kinda Asian name is that?"

"They take American names sometimes."

So we finish up and leave, and Connie's got me all worked up. Suddenly I am aching down there. Blue balls are setting in. Am I going to go out after less than a day, Kramer-style? NO fucking way.

My college friend, "Fungus", taught me a trick to get rid of blue balls. You squat down underneath an immovable countertop or doorway, and push up against it as hard as you can. It seems to work ok most of the time.

Back at the agent's office, I go into the men's room, squat down, and do my best to lift the sink off the wall. I am pushing like hell when something gives way! The whole sink moves, and bits of tile fall to the floor. Holy shit! But I feel a little better, and go on to my next meeting.

Each day got harder and harder. (And I MEAN that.) I found that working out obsessively helped, so I was lifting weights at the hotel exercise room instead of jogging, and I was actually DOING this!! I wondered how long I could keep it up...

Meanwhile, I was hitting on girls like crazy, and getting nowhere. Was the hot streak coming to a close? Maybe, but there was this one girl on Wednesday...

I meet her by the pool at 9:30 at night, swimming all alone....she is swimming laps.

"You lost your bathing suit back there," I say.

"What?! HUH?!!" she gasps, reaching for her boobs. Her bathing suit is still on, of course, but I can tell: Her breasts are gorgeous, big and ripe. They look like they might be fake.

I laugh. "I'm just kiddin'. My name's Steve." I stick my hand out.

"Christie," she says, and looks kind of annoyed. She doesn't shake my hand.

"So what brings you out this way," I say.

"My car," she says.

Um, ok. Not much to work with here, Christie...

"Travelling for work, I guess?"

"Are you writin' a book?" She's got a little southern accent. Sexy!! And guess what? She's SMILING! Suddenly, I'm thinking something could happen here!

"I don't like books. I'm more of a movie man."

She looks really confused. Then she gets it. "Oh, ha ha," she laughs politely.

That settles it. This chick is dumber than a carton of broken eggs. And dumb hot chicks are not good in bed, I find. But I intend to test that theory.

"So what do you do, Christie?"

"As little as possible..."

Yep, she's a 15-watt girl (not too bright).


"Hm. I'm an attorney," she says.

WTF. ANOTHER fucking lawyer? What are the chances? Hope I do better with this one, by God. And that's IF she's telling the truth. She is giving off a dumb vibe; no way she's a real lawyer. Time for a little test...

"REALLY?! Where'd you go to law school?" I ask in an excited voice.

See, if you act really interested, people are less likely to ask why you want to know.

"NYU. Class of 2000!" she says, without hesitation.

Well, either she's telling the truth, or she's been rehearsing her story.

"I'm in town researching a case," she adds.

"Ahhhh, spying on people!"

"Hahahah! In a manner of speaking."

OK. Did this chick just say, 'in a manner of speaking'? Hey, smart girl, who are you, and what have you done with the bimbo I was just hitting on?

Actually, this could work out. SMART hot chicks really do it for me, as long as they are not egghead-smart. The real genius types are mostly weird.

So, long story short, I talk to Christie for an hour. I buy her two drinks. It's time to see where this is going...

"So you wanna come upstairs for a drink?"


"They keep all the good liquor in my room, you know."

She thinks for a minute. "You're really sweet," she says. She's not looking at me.

"Thanks! You too, Christie!"

She sighs. "I can't."

Fuck. What the HELL!? I was thinking I was IN. Totally.

"Yeah, you can," I say.

"If I go up there, we both know what's going to happen."

"We're gonna watch HBO?"

"No! Steve! Don't kid. I don't mean to disappoint you, wouldn't be fair to John."

Ah, shit. There's a 'John'. Joy!

"It doesn't have to be a big deal," I say. "It can be a.....small deal." In otherwords, how about a nice blowjob consolation prize?

"Guys like you? You don't accept small deals." it that obvious?

"Well, I'm pretty sure you can still kiss me goodnight, though...right?"

She rubs my forearm and licks her lips. She kisses me on the mouth, briefly. Her lips are thick and pouty and wet. I am beginning to think this chick would be HOT in bed.

She kisses my cheek and hugs me.

"I'm sorry, Steve."

"Don't worry about it."

I never say "it's ok" when someone apologizes to me. I just tell them not to worry about it. In otherwords, you're an asshole, but there's nothing you can do about it now.

"I DO worry," she says.

"It was nice talking to you!"

"You too!"

I go back to my room and my cock is throbbing like you would not believe. I've already worked out twice today and I am aching.

I do 150 crunches and hit the sack. And I am STILL master of my domain!!

To be continued.....

Sunday, June 20, 2004

Things to do while Steverino is away

For the next week, I'm going to be meeting with insurance agents in small, cramped offices that probably only have dial-up internet access. Let's just say I shouldn't plan on blogging at all while I am away.

But not to worry: I will duly note any and all adventures and relate them well when I return on 6/28 or 6/29.

In the meantime, here are a few questions to all my readers (please reply by posting a comment):

1. Who is your favorite "character" on this blog?
2. Who is your LEAST favorite?
3. Which girl do you think is most attractive, based on descriptions?
4. Which girl do you think Steve will wind up with permanently (if any)?
5. And, finally, if you, or anyone you know, has some artistic ability and a little free time, feel free to sketch one or more characters from this blog and e-mail them to me at I will let you know how close you are to the real person(s). If it's really good, I'll post it on the blog!!

Thanks for your support, and I'll see you next week!

Saturday, June 19, 2004

I lose. But I win. But I lose.

Yesterday (Friday) was the day I was supposed to have Kelly over for drinking and hot-tubbing.

I thought it was a bit strange when the whole day went by without hearing from her: No e-mail, no call, nothing. But, I sure as SHIT wasn't calling her!

Lila's mom was off yesterday afternoon, and came and picked her up from work at 5:00. She lingered in my doorway for a long moment saying goodbye and telling me to have a good week on the road, trying to hide the fact that she was almost in tears.

I get home around 5:30 and fix myself a nice piece of fish on the grill. I clean up and read the paper, and when I finally look at the clock, it's 6:45. Shit! She was supposed to be here at 6!

Kelly's original idea was to go to the Copa at 7:00. Maybe she forgot we changed the plan? Or, maybe she was fucking with me again.

I hate being in this situation. If I call, I am an insecure little girl. If I don't call, I am putting her in the driver's seat. I like it much better when the girl calls me!

I decide to install a bathroom fan that I had been meaning to put in for awhile. What a pain! It takes me over an hour to install it and get cleaned up; I look at the clock again. 8:10.

Obviously, she isn't coming. And she isn't calling either. I still don't want to call her. Maybe, I could head over to the Copa and see if she's there. If she is, I can give her a piece of my mind. If not, maybe I can hook up with someone else!

So I get changed and head over to the Copa. I get rock-star parking (50 feet from the door), and the place is totally dead. It really doesn't get hopping over there until after 10, but to be this slow on a weekend night is strange.

There is a group of 5 or 6 girls by the bar, but I don't see Kelly.

I spy a girl all decked out in a black dress and high heels. I walk up to her. "Hi."

She turns around to look at me. She's about my age, short black hair, tiny little nose. She's not bad, but why the HELL is she so dressed up for a BAR?

"Hello," she says, in a dry monotone. I am reminded of Ben Stein in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off": "Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?"

"I'm Steve. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Caroline. I can't seem to get this friggin' bartender to help me."

I pull a $20 out and flag him down with it. He comes right over. I wink at Caroline.

"My friend here has been waiting for you forever," I say playfully. "She needs another Corona. And since she's been waiting so long, you don't expect her to pay for it, do you?"

"No, I expect YOU to pay!" the bartender says. Nice one!

"OK, fair enough. Get me a vodka tonic," I say.

"So, what do you do, Steve?" Caroline says. Hey, this might work out ok!

I feel a tickle on the back of my neck. WTF! Kelly does that!

I turn around. Kelly is there. "You are LATE!" she says, wide-eyed.

"LATE?! You were supposed to be at my house at 6!"

"I was? So what are you doing here, then?" she says.

"Looking for you."

"So, here I am. What's up?"

Ohhhh, no fuckin' way. It doesn't end here. She wanted to come here, I resisted, she gave in, then she came here anyway. It's TOTALLY friggin disrespectful.

"What's UP!? I was sitting home, waiting for you like a jackass," I say, winking.

"You were a jackass anyway," she says. "You didn't need me to stand you up for that."

"So you did stand me up, then."

"I told you I wanted to come here," she said, shrugging.

"But you agreed to go THERE!" Ok, I am turning into a girl. Wonder if I still have balls!

"True. Can I buy you a drink?"

"I think it's too late for that...I think you already missed the fuckin' boat."

"Are you gonna break my balls about this all night?"

"You have BALLS? Actually, that would explain a lot," I say.

She chuckles. "Fuck you," she says, and tilts her glass back. A piece of ice slides into her mouth.

"Anyway, I kind of just wanted to make sure you were still alive and ok, and since you appear to have a pulse, I guess I'll see you later," I say.

I get up to leave. She grabs my shirt and pulls me back down onto the bar stool. Now her face is right against mine, as if we were about to kiss. I can feel her hot breath on my mouth and nose.

"Do you think you can just........MANIPULATE me like that," she asks.

"Like WHAT?"

"'Not ten; nine-thirty!'" she says, mocking me. "'Not drinks; massages and hot tubs.' 'Don't send me flowers at work.' You're trying to PLAY me!"

I look at her face. Yeah, she's smiling. It's a big, happy, pretty smile. She looks like she just heard some good news. Kelly is better than anyone I know at covering up her emotions.

"You're the one who didn't show up," I shrug.

"Because YOU started it!"

"I can order you a beer to cry in, if you want."

"Fuck you."

"No, fuck YOU." Ok, is this about to get ugly??

"You don't like it when someone turns the tables on you. DO you?" she says. "DO YOU?"

"No, I don't like being lied to."

"About WHAT?! I TOLD you I was married!"

"But you didn't tell me you were still FUCKING him!!" I am starting to lose a bit of control here; I gotta keep cool.

"OH! And how many fucking airhead BIMBO's are YOU fucking right now?"

Oh, just one. Thanks for asking. It's kind of a slow month.

"One less than when I walked into this bar!" I shoot back.

"Good! Leave! Go back to your fucking little whores!" Heads around the bar are starting to turn.

"And YOU go back to your fucking whale-dicked husband!"



I storm out.

I get on the highway, turn up the radio, and just start driving to blow off some steam. I take a deep breath, and my head clears a bit.

I think I just made a big mistake. I showed my emotions, which implies that I give a shit. I know she did too, but I am very hard on myself whenever I show any kind of vulnerability. One of my best assets is having grace under pressure and never overreacting.

I wonder if Kelly will consider that fight a "stalemate", or some kind of "victory", since she succeeded in getting under my skin.

One thing is for sure: There is a little too much drama there right now. I wonder if seeing Kelly anymore is a good idea.

I call Lila.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy," she says. She is high. I can tell.

"What are you smokin?"

"Smoking? No! SNORTING!! I was a baaaaad girl. He he he he heeeeeeee"

"You did coke?"

"SEVEN lines. I am so fucking high, man. This shit is AWESOME! I wish you would come over here and fuck me, baby."

I hear giggling in the background.

"Lila, man, Jesus!" I say.

"Oh, here we go, another fucking lecture. YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!!" She says.


"Shit, Lila! I KNOW I'm not your father!! You know what? Just fucking call me when you come down, ok??"

"I love you."

"Ya, I know."

"I looooooove you, lover....I love you soooooo much........I tell my friends, you know....I tell them how you fuck meee," she says, in her sexy little-girl voice. More giggling.

"Goodbye, Lila."

So much for plan B.

What now? I could go home and whack off to some porn. Or, I could call Butterface. Like I said, that is the move of a DESPERATE fucking man.

I decide to head back home and do the porn thing. Found a nice DVD that I had not watched before; pounded one out, and felt just fine. Good enough to sleep, anyway.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! The front door.


Who the FUCK is that?

I go to the window and look down at the front porch. It's Kelly.


I briefly consider not answering the door. But I do.

I open the door. She looks out of breath. And angry.

"You are SUCH a fucking asshole," she says.

We kiss violently.

We stumble into the door. I kick it closed. I pull her jeans down. I'm not going for nudity here, just enough to get where I need to be.

Basically, we don't make it 10 feet past the door. I do her right on the stairs, pounding her hard. I just cranked one out, remember, so I can go all night, if I want.

She is talking to me, goading me. "Fuck me, fucking pound me! HARDER!"

Oh yeah, don't you worry about that, honey.

We finish. I am in full caveman mode; I don't even want to look at her. I get up and head to the kitchen. She goes to the bathroom.

I crack open a beer. She comes out of the bathroom, adjusting her belt.

"Get out," I say, only half kidding.

"You FINALLY got it right," she says.

Friday, June 18, 2004

A heartwarming, passionate, loving, quickie

Lila has been on her medication for over 24 hours and is feeling just fine, now. She came back to work yesterday.

She keeps telling me how much she is going to miss me when I go on the road ....and we all know what missing the Steverino is going to translate into, don't we?

At work, Lila tells me that there is a senior party that night, and that all of her friends are going to be at some kid's house. She figures I can show up, take her home, screw her silly, then bring her back to the party. Clever, isn't she? I tell you, Lila and I are like a sexual Bonnie and Clyde, always one step ahead of the "law".

So I show up at the agreed-upon time and place, and there is Lila. She is wearing these 3/4 length jeans and extra-thick-soled sneakers with no socks (Wu-huu! Naked ankles!)

She jumps in; we take off. She is giddy, telling me all about what her friends' plans for the summer are.

"How about you? What are your plans?"

"Riding in BMW's with hot guys."


"I'll spend PART of it with you. As much as possible."

"And then?"

"And then college. I'm going to Central next year, I decided. I can keep working with you, if you want me to."

"Of course I want you to."

"You didn't want me to take that job, did you? The full-time position?"


"You were so funny," she says. "Telling me about some file merge project so I wouldn't want to take the job. You are not as slick as you think you are."

Busted! AGAIN! Is Steve losing his mojo??

"No, it's just that you are getting too smart for me," I say.

"So you admit you didn't want me to take it! You thought I would SUFFOCATE you! Right?"

Damn, this girl IS good!

"You can suffocate me any time you want. As long as it's with your boobs."


"Lila, I'm happy you took it. OK? Is that what you want to hear?"

"Is it true?"


"Then I believe you," she says. "Will you just do me a favor?"


"If you ever stop being a commitment-phobe, will you tell me, so I know?"


We are passing an office building. "Stop here! Stop here!" she says. I pull into the lot.

"What is it," I ask.

"We haven't done it in the car in awhile," she says.

Turns out my brother used to work in this office building years ago. I think he was with the phone company at the time.

"What's he doing now?" Lila asks.

I tell her that he's working for a high-speed internet company.

"Is your dad still working at that factory?"


"Does he like it? It must be hard working those late hours. And I bet it sucked only having your mom home, since she was drinking so much."

"Yeah, mom was a hoot, I tell you. When she was there at all."

"You mean she left you alone in the house?!"

"I wasn't a 5-year old kid! You know, we were old enough to take care of ourselves until Dad would get back from work."

"So she just LEFT the house every day? Where did she go?"

"Dunno. Drinking at friend's houses, maybe?"

"Can I ask you a question?"


"Why don't you ever show any emotion?"

"I show emotion."

"No you don't. ESPECIALLY at work. Remember that time we had some guy on speaker phone, and he was yelling at you, and you put him on mute and smiled at me, and said, 'so how was your weekend', or something like that, while he was still yelling?"

"Hahahahah. Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

"You never get upset at anything. You are talking about your mom, and you aren't even getting upset. You should be crying right now."

"It was a long time ago. And crying doesn't solve anything. Getting upset doesn't solve anything. You remember when I was telling you about that time that Paulie came to visit me, and we were putting ceilings up?"

"And you almost killed each other?"

"Yeah! He kept yelling and yelling, and I yelled back. And when we finally stopped yelling and opened a couple of beers, we figured out the problem. AFTER we calmed down. When we were upset, we weren't getting anywhere."

"So the faster you calm down..." she says.

"The faster you can solve it." I say.

"You are so smart," she says. "I wish I was smart like you."

"You ARE smart."

"Not like you."

"I like talking to you about things. You are funny, and you have good opinions," I say. "And you are a really good worker. I believe you can be really successful in the business."

"ME? Really?"


"You know what? You are soo sweet when you want to be," she says. She kisses me.

Her phone rings. We have been talking for 10 minutes. Didn't we come here to screw?

Lila talks for a few minutes, then hangs up. She doesn't look happy.

"Mike got arrested. His brother has to take everyone home so he can go bail Mike out. I have to be back at the party in 10 minutes."


"How 'bout 15," I say.

She smiles. She pulls her jeans down. She is straddling me; her thighs are right in front of my face, firm and ripe. She is wearing a black thong. This girl gets an "A" for underwear!

"Are you ready for your surprise?" she says.


She pulls her thong off. Her pubic hair has been shaved into a letter "S"!

"Holy shit!!" I say. "You did that for me?"

"Yeah! It hurt like HELL!" she says.

"Baby!! For ME?"

"I wanted to. I'm gonna miss you, baby."

There is a quick way to get me off, and Lila knows it well. She sits on my lap with her back to me and I enter her; then she reaches down and strokes my cock while she rides me. Doing it that way drives me nuts, because I can watch it going in and out of her..

She kisses me and lowers herself down, facing me. OK, wonder if this works when I can't see her tight little ass bouncing up and down.

She starts to slide up and down on my stick, and then, sure enough, she reaches down to stroke me. I close my eyes and concentrate fully on her tightness, her wetness; her mouth on mine; the wet, squishy sound of our sex. I relax and let the climax come.

I actually come harder than I thought I would. I am shaking!

"I'm gonna miss you," she says, smoothing her long hair behind her right ear.

"Me too," I say. And you know what? I MEAN it.

"I love you," she coos in my ear. She is a like a drug dealer, hooking me on her wares. And I know it's potentially disastrous, but part of me likes the idea that she can inhabit me, devour me from the inside out...

Suddenly I am thinking Paulie was not so crazy after all when he told me I loved her.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

Shopping for ass

Lila called in sick again on Wednesday. Her doctor put her on antibiotics. She may be back today, Thursday.

I threw Kelly's flowers away. They were starting to stink.

There is another acquisition we are looking at. I will review it with Ross when I get back. We are starting to generate some good revenue out of this office, and Ross is talking about a raise for me. Hoo-ha!!! Forget the raise, just promote me. I would MUCH rather have a title and a lot of responsibility than a lot of cash. You can work on the cash later.

I am hearing around the office that Julie is telling everyone what an asshole I am. The guys from IT are breaking my balls every day about it. "You must be queer if you turned HER down, dude," they are saying. You know, it's weird, but some of the hot chicks around the office are asking me about it now. I think they are intrigued; they want to see if they can succeed where Julie failed. That little bitch may help me get laid yet!
But if I do anyone else from the office, it must be strictly on the D.L. (in secret).

I guess that brings you up to date on work.

Last night, I decided to do some shopping for a few nuisance projects around the house. I also like to check out the honies in the stores. Believe it or not, a lot of hot chicks shop at Home Depot. But last night, "ass" was completely out of stock. I bought all my materials, then headed to the mall to check out the situation.

I am looking for Sears, and I think I know where it is. So I walk for a while. Then I walk some more. And more. And I can't fucking find it!

For those of you who don't know, malls are intentionally built with all kinds of corners and turns. There is a reason they don't have big long hallways: Marketing tests have shown that people won't walk to a store if they perceive it to be more than 600 feet away or so. So, they make a bunch of short walks instead of one long one.

So I stop some security dude, and ask him where Sears is. And suddenly, it occurs to me: YOU CAN'T PAY BILLS AT THE PHONE COMPANY. At least, not the one near my office. So why did Kelly tell me she was "paying a bill" that day? Was she just looking for an excuse to meet me? Or did she honestly think she COULD pay her bill there? Memo to self: Gotta check that out, just for the hell of it.

I also ask the security guard where the hot chicks are. He tells me to go to Abercrombie & Fitch or the record store.

I go to A. & F. And there is a girl there to DIE for. She had this massive rack, with a tight red top on. And you gotta love those pants that are halfway off, too...

"Can I help you find anything?" she says.

Yeah, I'm looking for your snatch. Can you point me in the right direction?

"Hmmm, I need a couple of shirts. But I can never find the exact right one for me."

That's perfect - give them a PROJECT. Have them spend a little time with you. See where it goes!

"You look like black is your color. Let's look over here."

"Marcie, you ready for your break?" some dude says.

"Yeah, just come over here and finish with this customer for me," she says.

FUCK! 'Twas not to be, Marcie!

Bought a couple of nice shirts, though.

Went to the food court, and some Asian girl was handing out free samples of some kinda chicken. Really good! So I take a sample, walk around, and come back towards her. She looks down at my feet, and doesn't offer me another sample. She was MEMORIZING what people's shoes looked like so they wouldn't get more than one free sample!

"Is that the chicken that you were about to throw away," I ask.

"uhhhhhhhh, yeah, yeah. Yeah yeah," she says. She has NO clue what I'm saying.

Headed home, and basically did nothing. Sorry guys, but it was probably the lamest night ever for the Steverino.

Oh, BTW, my thoughts go out to the Monkey Man for his loss; it really sucks for him right now.

The weekend is shaping up to be exciting, though....wonder what Lila's surprise is...

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

What comes around........

10:00 Tuesday. A receptionist (not Lila) comes in with some flowers for me. They are from Kelly. The card says:


I am reminded of the movie "Boomerang" with Eddie Murphy. He's a popular guy, and successful with the girls, but he meets his match in Robin Givens. They reverse roles, essentially. They screw; she is on top. She doesn't call him; he gets all emotional. He complains that he got $1000 worth of parking tickets waiting for her; he wakes up and the money is on his pillow.

Am I getting boomerang'd? Am I the woman in this relationship?

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I get called for a late-night booty call. I go snooping in her drawers. She is coaching the sexual action like some kind of porn director. and now she's sending me flowers.

You know what? I'm not gonna stand for this shit! I'm gonna.... I'm gonna....

Do nothing.

That's what I'm gonna do...let her come chasing after me. But then again, isn't that just what a girl would do? Fuck.

I pick up the phone and call Kelly. Voice mail.

"HEY. It's me. Call me." CLICK.

How's that for "phone manners", BI-YOTCH?!

11:30. I'm in a meeting. My phone rings. Kelly. I let it go to voice mail.

11:45. I call Kelly back.

"This is Kelly!"


"OK, I get it! I'll stop nagging you!"

"The flowers smell nice." Oh, and your asshole felt pretty good, too.


"Send them to my house next time. I don't like my coworkers knowing my business." Or my other girlfriends!

"Who says there's gonna BE a next time?" she says.


"I have a confession to make," Kelly says.


I am vaguely aware that there are people hovering around my office, pointing at my flowers. I cover the mouthpiece. "They're from my mother, congratulating me for the promotion," I say. The crowd disperses dejectedly. I immediately put the card through the shredder.

"That was my first time doing it that way," she says.


"My husband used to beg me to do it all the time, but I never let him....he was just too friggin' big."

OUCH!! Yikes! Is this chick some kind of friggin' MONSTER? Well played though, I must say. Her husband is big, and I am....not, is the implication. Way to cut a man down to size, honey!

But you know the Steve Rule: Never show emotion. "Is that right," I say cheerfully, pretending not to notice the bank shot she just took at me. "I wonder why you left him, then".

"Well, I haven't left him, totally...."

Obviously, I am up against a professional here, guys.

"WOW! You're screwing two people at the same time? You sure you're not a guy?" I ask.

"You've seen everything. You tell me!" She says. "Anyway, I'm glad you like the flowers. And, actually, I'm pretty fucking sore, right now. I could use a dip in the hot tub tonight. Yours."

"I'm busy tonight. Tomorrow, too. How 'bout Friday?"

"Can't do Friday," she says.

I could ask her out for Saturday, but it just seems too 'desperate'. With a girl like this, who plays hardball, she gets one shot, then she loses. "Fear of loss," the sales guys call it. Accept my terms, or you don't get what you want.

"I'm out of town all next week, and I'll be getting ready all weekend," I say. "I'll call you when I get back."

Or not.

"Ok......wait!" she says.


"I might be able to switch something around on Friday night."

"It's ok."

"No, it's no problem!" she says. "How about drinks at 7 at the Copa?"

"How about the hot tub at 6? I'll provide the drinks," I say.

"That sounds NICE. Can't wait!" she exclaims. "Bye babe!"

That's right, honey. You mess with the bull, you get the horns.

Hope she doesn't have to do a lot of walking on Saturday.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

You have learned well, grasshopper...

I admit it. I think I am a player. And I act like one. But then, every once in a while, some girl puts me in my place. Just like last night.

Lila called in about 12:30 to say she was sick and couldn't come to work today. She also said she has a "surprise" for me before I leave on my trip.

So, what to do tonight? How about plan B, or, more accurately, plan K?

But I can't call Kelly yet, I think. Gotta wait until later. And I have to hope she is not a "rules" girl. Who knows? Maybe she will call me!

3:00. I haven't heard from Kelly, and it's fairly quiet around the office. So I dial her up.

"This is Kelly."



"Yeah. Hey."

Long pause. "Steve?"


"Oh. Hey hun!" Oh great. So I am "hun" now?

"Hey, listen. I was wondering if you were interested in watching a movie tonight," I say.

"I watch movies every night. Know what I had in mind?"


"A shower."

"A shower? Can you be more specific?"

"Ummmmmm, hot Me. Soap. Nudity."

"Oh, ok. I thought another one of your friends was getting married!"

"Nope. So what do you think? Ten o'clock at my house?" she asks.

TEN O'CLOCK?? That's Booty Call time! Not that I mind, but exactly who is using who here, anyway?

Well, no one runs roughshod over me. "Nine-thirty," I say firmly.

"It's a deal," she says. "Ok, I gotta go show a house."


"You really have to work on your phone skills," she says.

"Yeah, and you have to work on your over-aggressiveness." BITCH.

It was a very slow day at the office today. Call it a post-acquisition lull. I went home early and had some dinner.

9:45. I pull up to Kelly's. She answers the door in a bathrobe and bunny slippers.

Bunny slippers??

"You're early," she says, handing me a glass of red wine.

"Is that a problem?"

"No....actually, I was hoping you would be," she says.

She heads upstairs, and I follow. I sit on the bed to remove my shoes, and she enters the bathroom. "Don't be long," she says.

I get undressed. SHIT! I forgot to bring lube. I open her nightstand drawer to see if she has any. There is a cheesy "I Miss You" card there.

I open it. It says "May 2004" inside. It is signed, "I can't wait to see you again 'Booger'! Love, Brad"

Damn, Brad is her husband's name. Is she still fucking him?

I go into the bathroom. All the lights are on. Her body is incredible...lean and tight...the tattoo is bigger than I thought. There are so many colors on it.....

"It took 2 hours," she says.


"The tattoo," she says. "I saw you looking at it. Why do guys always stare at that when I'm naked? You would think they'd look....somewhere else!"

WTF. How many guys is she fucking, anyway? Not that I have anything to complain about, but...

Steam is everywhere. She climbs into the shower. This IS a booty call! I've been in the house all of 5 minutes! I am a fucking booty call! Sex is sex, but why the hell is she calling all the shots?

I get into the shower. She is soaping up with one of those poofy shower things.

"I was thinking about you all day," she says. "I was hoping you'd call." She is smiling. I'm beginning to think that Kelly got away with murder as a kid with that smile. Bet it's sold a few houses too.

She kisses me. Then she pulls away, then kisses me again, harder. She stares at me for a moment, her long hair plastered to her head. Why is it that blonde hair always looks brown when it gets wet?

She turns her back to me and puts the sponge-thing in my hand. She rubs her ass against me. I am throbbing.

I start to rub the poofy thing over her boobs. Bubbles are everywhere. Her skin is wet and shiny now....

She takes my hand and starts to run the sponge over her pussy. "Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhh...."

I start to rub myself against her from behind. She is nice and slippery down there. She bends over a bit, hands against the wall. I push up on my cock, just a bit, and slide effortlessly into her. Looks like I didn't need lube, after all.

Suddenly, I almost fall backwards. She is pushing back! HARD! What's going on with this girl? Is this the chick I thought I had to be "gentle" with the other night?

"Harder," she says. "HARDER!"

OK, if you say so!

I grab her hips and start pounding away. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Mozart's symphonies sound no sweeter.

She was tighter than I remember. I decide to do a reach-around.

See, when you are doing a girl from behind, it's good to reach around and rub her clit with your hand. GENTLY. "Fuck," I hear her moan.

I pull myself all the way out of her, then back in. Without touching. YUM. Then out again. Then...OOPS! Missed! (Wink, wink). My head bumped up against her asshole. Wonder if it's time to see if Miss Aggressive likes it in the rear....

"Go ahead," she says.

I take the spongy thing and squeeze it against her lower back. Soapy water gushes all over her ass. I notice there is a thin line right around her crack where there is no tan....she must go tanning in a thong, I think...

I start using the "Hokey-Pokey" ass-fucking technique: You put your head in, you put your head out, is REALLY friggin tight. It's starting to loosen up, though...

"Go ahead! Just DO it!"

You asked for it, honey.

I put my hand between her shoulder blades and push down, so she is standing at a 90 degree angle. Then I sqeeze her hips and jam my cock violently into her. "AAAAAAAAH!" she says. I can feel her stretching and ripping. But she's liking it. "Yeah! Oh GOD yeah!!" she is saying.

Shit! She should be dying right now! That must have hurt!

I pump away at her for several minutes. Pretty soon I pull all the way out, and she is gaping wide open. Back in, without touching. AAAAAHHHH. And now the wave builds inside me....I am trembling...the spasms overtake me and I explode.....

I slowly, languidly, pull out of her. I see a little she bleeding?

Damn. How to dispose of a condom in the shower!

She turns and faces me. She is smiling, again. She puts her arms around my neck, flickering her blue eyes. "MMMMMMMMMMM," she says, and kisses me. It's nice kissing her with the hot water raining down on us.

Our lips separate with a SMACK. "There's hope for you yet," she says.

"Excuse me?"

"You were too passive the first time. That was MUCH better, though."

Here I am, telling the Dating Fool ( that HE is too passive. He's gonna have a laugh!

"Is that so?"

"I know you were just trying to make it so it didn't hurt. But don't. I like guys who go for it."

Memo to self: Make sure she's sore next time. VERY sore.

Monday, June 14, 2004

An addict and his enabler

Every good addict has an enabler. I guess mine would be Paulie.

I remember the day I met him. It was the first day of kindergarten, and he walked up, put his arm around me, and said, "Hi, I'm Paul! Wanna be best friends?" I said, "Yeah!" and we've been best friends ever since. Twenty-eight years, man!

We've had our fights, but he's always been there for me when I needed him. Late-night rides when I was stranded, money when I was broke, a place to stay if there was too much crap going on at my house. You name it.

I had made plans to go to Paul's house this past Saturday. (Yeah, I told Kelly a little white lie that I was "doing work around the house" that day). So, after I dropped Kelly off, I headed down to Paulie's.

His girlfriend Theresa answers the door. I had never met her. She is cute! About 5'2", maybe 120, short black hair, early 30's.

"STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE!!" she cries as she opens the door. "My god! I feel like I know you!"

Then Paulie comes out, still in his boxers. "How ya doin, guy?" He hugs me.

We all sit around the kitchen table, drinking coffee. "So," Theresa says, "I hear you are hot and heavy with a certain young chickie!"

I shoot Paulie an evil glance. He knows all about Lila, but he's not supposed to blab.

"It's no big deal at all," I say.

"She works with you, though, right? You gotta be careful about that."

Fuck. Is there anything Paul DIDN'T tell her!!? And by the way, when did I ask advice from THIS bitch?

"It's under control," I say derisively.

So the two of them decide we are going hiking. Wish I had known that when I ran 4 miles this morning!! But it was a nice walk, and at the top of the hill we stopped for lunch.

Paul is different around this girl. Normally, he thinks the passing of gas is the funniest thing in the world. Today, he drinks a Snapple, lets out a little burp, and excuses himself profusely. WTF?

"I want you to know I am going to leave you two alone for some guy time later," Theresa says. "Just no girl chasing! I know what you two used to do." Goddamn that Paulie, spilling the beans again.

Back at home, Theresa was not even out of the driveway when Paulie jumped out of his seat and ran over to me. "Show me the pictures, man! Come on, I wanna see them!!"

"I don't know, man, you'll probably tell THERESA all about them! What the FUCK, Paul, do you tell her EVERYTHING??!!"

"Not everything, man. I didn't tell her she works for you."

"Gee, thanks."

"Come on, man, I am DYING. Show me!!"

So I pull out my digital camera and show him the pictures of Lila and me fucking. I have to admit, they are really hot. Every position imaginable. Me on top. Her on top. Doggie. You name it.

His mouth hangs open, and he goes Pale. "HO........LEEEE........SHIT. This girl is INCREDIBLE. Look at those TITS!"

"Look at those EVERYTHINGS," I say. "She is fuckin' perfect, I tellya!"

"THIS is my favorite," he says, and shows me the closeup of Lila's face. With my dick in her mouth.

"Yuck, man," I say. "Now I feel fuckin' gross. Gimme that camera back."

"That bitch Rosie is in love with you, man. Always has been. That's why she got so pissed when she found those pictures."

"Yeah, right," I say.

"You shoulda seen Rosie's face when she found out you and Angie were engaged," Paul says. "So, you fucking anybody else besides Miss Hottie?"

I tell him about Kelly. "Sounds hot," he says.

That night, we went out drinking and talked for a long time. When Paul gets drunk, he tends to spill the truth about anything that's bothering him. After 5 or 6 beers, he starts staring off into space, and I know some soul-baring is on the way.

"I'm not happy, man," he sighs. "I mean, I'm happy, but, I look at you, and....."


"You got your big-time job, fancy car, hot girlfriend. I'm a fucking electrician living in an apartment."

"Fuck you, man."

"I mean it. I feel like such a failure compared to you."

I tell him about the therapy, the sex addiction, the inability to commit or even to care about someone.

"Sex addiction?? You know the only reason I'm not addicted to sex?"

"What's that?"

"I can't get laid enough!"

We both had a good laugh over that one.

"Look, man, I know you. I see the way you talk about Lila. You LOVE her."

"Paulie. She's SEVENTEEN."

"I don't give a fuck HOW old she is. You look different when you talk about her. Something in your eyes. You're in love!!"

I am reminded of the scene from "Splash", in which Tom Hanks is telling John Candy how bummed he is that all his life, he has waited for someone, and when he finally found her, she was "a fish". John Candy basically tells him to stop complaining, because most people in the world will never be that happy, no matter what the girl's "flaws" are.

"Ahhhhhh, come on," I say.

"Don't you fuck this up," he says, slurring. "Don't let her go. This real estate chick, fuck her. She's just another girl. But this Lila...."

"It's a sad day when I take girl advice from you, Mr. Pussy-whipped."

The next morning, after he puked a few times, Paulie and I went to Dunkin' Donuts for coffee. We talked a lot about the old days.

Paulie and I lived together for awhile after college. If you think I am bad now, you should have seen me - us - then. We were constantly on the make. And we did ok, too! After I lost all that weight, I was hitting on just about everyone, and doing really well.

We used to play pranks on each other. Once, while Paulie was in his room, hooking up with some girl, I slid one of those stink-bombs under his door, and they both ran out of there choking, holding clothes over themselves. And one day, when I had a girl in MY room, Paulie lit off a pack of firecrackers right outside my door. Talk about breaking my concentration!

My nickname back then was "Motts", because one day, Paulie walked into my room while some girl was jerking me off with applesauce (Don't ask). And his nickname was "Mayonnaise", because one night, a girl whacked him off in his car, and he came all over the dashboard. He was too lazy to clean it up, so it just sat there, congealing in the hot sun for weeks. When he finally did clean it, there was a permanent stain.

These days, Paulie is just about the only one who knows most of what I am up to. It's not like it used to be, when he was covering for me when I was two-timing, or helping me avoid people I wanted to break up with. But he is always "cheerleading" me, encouraging me to continue my deviant behavior, living vicariously through my sexual conquests.

Of course, I don't blame Paulie at all for my mistakes. But if there is someone out there "helping" me in some way, it's him.

Sunday, June 13, 2004

Steverino Special: Five Celebrities I Must Have Sex With Before I Die

1. Britney Spears. I've already extolled the virtues of her gluteus maximus. That alone is reason enough, but to me, any woman who appears to have more psychological problems than I do is irresistable.

2. Mya. Hottest black girl on the planet. (Sorry Halle Berry!)

3. Maureen McCormick (AKA, "Marcia Brady"). Since I whacked off over her so much as a kid, it would be nice to know what the real thing is like.

4. Lindsay Lohan. Forget Mary-Kate and Ashley. Imagine if THIS hottie had a twin?!

5. Elsa Benitez (supermodel). Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue cover girl from a couple of years ago. Still the hottest cover shot I've ever seen.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

Did I do theatttt?

Why am I suddenly reminded of Steve Urkel from "Family Matters"?

I did a couple of things I've never done before last night. First, I had a girl stay here overnight. (The first time that's happened since I've had the house). Second, while she was upstairs sleeping, I came down here and made an entry in my blog. I've never blogged with a girl in the house. Yow!! Maybe I'm addicted to blogging now, too...

So I wake up at 5:30 to go running, like I always do, and Kelly is still asleep. I run four miles, and the weather is perfect, and I am feeling absolutely great. I get back in and Kelly is in the kitchen wearing her belly shirt and panties. And drinking coffee.

Shit! She made coffee with my coffee pot...I mean, it's no big deal, but...

"Hey! I make great omelettes!" she says. "Can I make you one?"

Wtf. WTF!!! She fucks me once, and now she is Suzy Homemaker in my kitchen? Why the HELL did I ask her to stay last night? Did I have too much Sake with my sushi?

"Kelly. I have a lot of work to do around the house today. I probably should take you home."

She looked at me, then walked over and wiped a little of the sweat off my eyebrow. She gave me a big smile. "You ok?" she says.

I am reminded of the song "Cat's in the Cradle", in which the father keeps ignoring the son, and somehow the son keeps loving him more.

I felt a little better. OK, what is it about this girl's smile that calms me down so much? Maybe it was the way she asked if I was ok. Sounded like she actually gave a shit.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Just no...omelettes for awhile, ok?"

"OK," she says, almost inaudibly. She is beaming up at me. She's not mad; she is.... yeah, she's falling for me. "NOW can I thank you for a wonderful evening?"

"Yeah," I say, and I can't help but laugh a little. "It's morning now, so I guess you are safe."

Man, I can't invite her over here again for a while. I did NOT like the feeling of coming home and seeing her here.

I am travelling a bit this weekend, so I probably won't blog again till tomorrow night or Monday....

Stay tuned for another week of sickness....

Friday, June 11, 2004


Yeah, guys, the Steverino is a fucking machine, and he CANNOT be stopped....

So I pick up Kelly around 6:00 and we go for sushi. I like it ok; it's just not my fave. "This stuff makes me CRAZY horny," Kelly says, without a trace of irony.

I hate it when girls say things like that. If a girl is a real horndog, she will NEVER say anything so suggestive. The impression I got was that Kelly was trying to "tease" me for some reason, and that I wasn't going to get anywhere...

This was a really expensive place, but they have the best sushi in town. The final tally: $125 (including tip). We had drinks, though.

Then we head to the spa. "I want you to know, I'm really looking forward to this," says Kelly. She's acting a bit too enthusiastic. Methinks she is trying too hard. Why can't she just chill like she did the other day?

So we start talking about music, and it turns out we were at the same Aerosmith concert about 7 years ago. She's also a Beatles buff, like me (her favorite: John, just like mine). "Paul is so anal," she says. "Hey, maybe he's your long-lost father! You better get a DNA test!"

OK, so she's acting more normal now. THIS is the Kelly I remember.

"Hey," I say, "has anyone ever told you you look like..."

"CHRISTINA APPLEGATE?" she says. "I hear it every goddamn day!"

"Oh. Well that's ok, cause I was gonna tell you you looked like Rosie O'Donnell."

"Ewwwwwww! Well, you know who YOU look like?" she says.

I already know who she is going to say.

"Matthew Broderick!" she exclaims. "I had such a crush on him when he was in 'War Games'".

"Ya, I hear that Broderick thing all the time, too." And I do! I do kinda look like him, I must say. "So obviously, the only reason you are with me is to fulfill some unrequited girlhood crush," I say. We pull up to the spa.

"Uh, yeah," she says. She is wearing tight black pants and yet ANOTHER midriff-exposing belly shirt. "We kinda have some unfinished business, don't we?" She leans in to me. Her eyes kind of cross a little as she stares up at me, as if she were focusing all her attention on one single pore on my forehead.

"Later," I say. What, does she wanna get jiggy in the parking lot?! I back up and reach for the door handle. She grabs a handful of my shirt and pulls me to her. She kisses me. She tastes like.....peppermint!

"Did you get mint-flavored sushi?" I say. He he he...

"Tic-tac's," she says, laughing. Yet another girl, taking care of her breath for me!!

The spa was incredible. Hour-long massages for both of us, manicure and pedicure for her (I figured I'd take care of the 'facial' later ;-) ), nice long dip together in the jacuzzi. Total cost for the spa: $378. Can't do THIS every week! But I felt totally invigorated. And horny.

Kelly was even more beautiful than before. Her eyes seemed bluer and her skin....glowed. I looked at her face closely: She had no wrinkles anywhere, not even a trace. Her eyebrows were meticulously cared for, obviously. They were mirror images of one another.

We drove back to my place. As we got out of the car, she grabbed my elbow with both her hands and breathed in deeply through her nose, smelling the night air. "It is SOOOO beautiful tonight," she says. "Can we go for a walk?"

So we walk around the block a few times, and by now it's just about totally dark. I stop in front of a little pond, down the street from my house. If you stand at one particular spot, the moon reflects right off the middle of the water, and you can see the waves rippling this way and that, pushed by the wind. I have stopped at this point with girls a million times. They usually say, "God, this is beautiful!"

"My god, this is GORGEOUS," Kelly says. Close, eh?

JUST LIKE YOU. That's the weak, cheesy-ass line. Too fuckin' obvious.

"I've been thinking about you all day," I say. And I was! Mark Twain again.

"Me too."

I kiss her forehead. Maybe I'll try to make her sweat a little. If I don't move in right away, she will wonder what she is doing wrong.



"I think the sushi is kicking in."


When a girl lets me know she's ready to go screw, I never start rushing around and shit. To me, that's weak. I usually play it like I almost didn't even hear her, or that this type of thing happens to me every day.

I kiss her forehead again. "Come on," I say, and put my arm around her waist. I can feel the top of her ass with my forearm. It is round and firm...

So we get back to the house, and she kicks off her sneakers (as if I needed another good sign). I am putting my keys away when I feel something on the back of my neck. It's a flower from the vase in the kitchen. Kelly is tickling me with it. All of a sudden I am ravenous with desire. I feel like I have not fucked in a year.

I put my arms around her waist. "Thank you for a wonderful evening," she whispers.

"It's not over yet," I say. We kiss. It is a slow, passionate kiss. She tilts her head this way and that, slides her tongue gracefully in and out of my mouth as if speaking some silent language.

I'm figuring I'm going to just take her by the hand and lead her to the bedroom, when she stops kissing me and walks there herself. I follow. I am hard enough to hammer nails at this point...

She focuses her eyes on me. She pulls off her belly shirt, then her pants, never taking her eyes away from mine. She is wearing a pink bra and matching panties. I undress.

I wonder what Lila is doing right now, I think...

WTF!!! Where did that come from?

I look at the clock. I had sex with Lila less than 24 hours ago. It's no big deal; I've had sex with two girls in two days before. A few times, in fact. Once, I screwed two girls on the same day. But is this guilt I am feeling?

Kelly pulled her bra off. Her boobs were round and big. They pointed up slightly. They were tan, too....

She pulls down her panties. There is a little gap where her thighs don't touch at the top. She does not shave. She's got a butterfly tattoo on her right hipbone. Her blue eyes are dark with lust. My heart is pounding; the drug, again...

She lays down for me, her knees pulled back. I turn off the lights. I like to do that sometimes. I lay down over her and kiss her deeply, and as my tongue enters her mouth, my cock enters her too. Her eyes close; her back arches gracefully and she moans softly. "Ohhhhhhhhh, Steve......oh God."

Some girls like it rough - rougher than I like to give it, even. But some like it really gentle and "romantic". Something told me that was how Kelly wanted it. Based on her reaction, it looks like I got it right.

Yeah, I "jimmied up" (wore a condom) with Kelly. I always do, unless we've been screwing for a while and we both get tested. That's what Lila and I did. It's never as good with a condom, but Kelly and I really "connected" tonight. Not just sexually: The date too, the talking...

Now we are done, and I lay down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, and she puts her head on my chest. "I can hear your heart beating," she says.

"Stay with me tonight," I say.


DID I JUST ASK HER TO STAY HERE? The last time I had a girl overnight, in my bed, was - well - NEVER.

Am I going from not giving a shit about anyone, to falling for two different girls? At the same time??

He shoots.....he SCORES!!!

CRAZY busy today....quick update....

3:30 yesterday. Lila comes into my office. "Can I leave at 4 today? I have a LOT to do at home."

"I a ride..."

"mm-hmmmm," she says, smiling.

OHHHHHHHHHH, I see where she is going now.

"Well, it just so happens that I have to leave at.....4:30 myself," I say.


She turns to leave. She is wearing black skirt-shorts and white stockings. There is something hot about being able to see every curve of her thighs and calves.

4:00. "Bye, Steve....see you tomorrow," she says.

I was signing off on some paperwork. My hands were shaking so badly I could hardly write. I had not had sex since very early Saturday, basically. Even though I was whacking off twice a day, I was aching for it. And it sounded like she had it just as bad. She couldn't even work until 5!

4:30. I knock off early and drive to Starbuck's, our rendezvous spot. She is there, sitting under one of those umbrellas, drinking a frappucchino and talking to someone.

Marie, from accounting. God DAMMIT!! What is this, the new office hangout?! If this keeps up, we are going to have to find a new place to meet.

I parked and walked toward the entrance, pretending not to see them.

"STEEEEEEEEVE!" yelled Marie. Fucking loudmouth.

"Ladies!!" I say, doing my best impression of a surprised person.

We chit-chat for a while. My crotch is on fire at this point. (In an erotic way, not a diseased way ;-)). How the hell was I going to get her outta there? Why is it that, lately, I have to pull off an "Oceans 11"-type heist just to get her into my car?

"My ride can't come," says Lila, finally. "Gotta figure out how I'm getting home."

I pause. Can't seem too anxious. Marie says nothing. For a change.

"Well, I'm a little late," I say. "And the coffee line's too long anyway. I think you're on the way. You're over by the mall, right?"

She nods.

"Yeah, alright," I say, sounding a bit annoyed. "But we have to leave now."

Marie smiles. "Always the boss, even outside of work! Bye kids!"

We say our goodbyes and take off.

It was beautiful outside yesterday. I had the top down, and the sky was a really deep blue. It was about 80 degrees, not too hot, not too cold. THIS is what I drive a convertible for!

I turn on the radio. "Down With the Sickness" by Disturbed. How appropos.

Lila unbuttons the first two buttons of her blouse. Her boobs are falling out. She starts rubbing them on my arm. I feel her firm flesh on me, and "the drug" starts to work again.

She nibbles my ear. "I'm sorry I doubted you," she says.


"I heard that you dissed Julie. I'm sorry I accused you of fucking her. And I'm sorry I was such a bitch last weekend."

"Yeah, you are kind of a bitch," I smile.

"Shut UPPP!"

"I told you, I blame myself. You don't deserve to be treated that way."

She doesn't say a word, just leans over and starts unbuckling my belt.

Ever have a "road cone"? It's when your girl blows you while you are driving. I have had a few. I like doing it on the highway, where you are not really working the pedals and you can just focus on her. But we were on a city street, with lots of lights. And pedestrians.

She pulls me out, and I am fully, urgently, hard. She puts her lips on me, and the drug rushes straight to my head, like 15 shots of whiskey.

DAMN, I missed her!

Clutch, gas, 2nd gear. Clutch, gas, 3rd gear. Clutch, gas, 4th gear. My knees are bobbing up and down. It's helping ;-). Maybe city road cones aren't so bad after all!

Uh-oh, pothole. I swerve a bit to avoid it.

ThumpTHUMP! Front wheels. ThumpTHUMP!! Back wheels. I try to hold still, but my cock jams into her mouth. I can feel the back of her throat, warm and squishy.

"OHAAARGGHGHH" she gags. It is a terrible sound, the sound of someone throwing up. She doesn't puke, but there are suddenly globs of spit everywhere. She hardly stops blowing me.

We get to her house. I cover up just enough to get in the door. She is very aggressive, more than I've ever seen her. She grabs me by the arm and throws me down on the la-z-boy recliner. Goes down on me and starts working my joint like she hasn't seen one in 20 years.

I am just about to come. She starts stroking me. I decide to try the multiple-orgasm trick.

What you do is, you let the orgasm start, then clamp down and try to shut it off like a faucet. If you do it right, you have a smaller-than-usual orgasm, but you can keep fucking, and you have an absolutely HUGE one the second time. It's really tough to do it - I usually don't get it right.

The wave of climax welled up inside me. I let it start, then grabbed the base of my cock and squeezed as hard as I could, tensing up my abs. OWWWWW!!

But it worked. The orgasm stopped!! And I was still hard. Now it was my turn to be aggressive. I grab her by the waist of her shorts and start unbuttoning and unzippering. I am vaguely aware of her pulling her shirt off. Her bra is slightly askew; I can see a nipple poking out. She reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra.

Now my clothes are flying off. She is pulling her white stockings off. She is panting, out of breath, completely horny.

She looks at me, totally naked. She starts to head toward the bedroom. Uh-uh.

I grab her arm and throw her down on the couch. Then I am on top of her, inside her, thrusting away.

The room is deathly quiet. I can hear every sound of our sex, every little gasp that escapes her lips each time I enter her.

The wave is starting again, big and powerful, so big I have no hope of stopping it. The shudders consume my whole body. I shoot over, and over, and over, until I can feel my own come inside her.

We lay there for a long moment, just looking at each other. She is chewing gum. WTF?

"What," she says, smiling.

"When did you put gum in your mouth," I say.

"As we were walking in. I figured if I kissed you, you wouldn't want to taste your dick." So I kiss her. And I feel calm and serene for the first time in a long time.

"I missed you," she says. "I love you."

"I know," I say. It was the first time I had ever acknowledged her saying that. EVER.


Just got off the phone with the spa. My little shindig with Kelly is going to cost me $400 tonight. But it's gonna be great.

Don't know if I can write again today. If not, wish me luck!

Thursday, June 10, 2004

NEWS FLASH! The drought is about to end!!!!

Confuscious again: "Good things come to those who wait". Or, in this case, "Good things come to those who dump attorneys".

I am thinking Lila heard the rumor about me dumping Julie; Lila just asked me for a ride home! Mom is working late. And from previous posts, we all know what THAT means. I think this calls for a dip in the hot tub and some champagne tonight...

Thank GOD the drought is just about over. I know I shouldn't count my chickens, but if I know Lila, she is just about as crazy as I am right now......

And then there were two

11:00am. Phone. Julie.

"Free for lunch today?"

"Julie, I need to talk to you."

"Uh oh. That didn't sound good."

"Listen, I'm not....I don't think we should see each other."

"Today, or ever?"



"Don't take it the wrong way," I say.....

From this point onward, I have to assume that everything I say will be repeated ad nauseum around the office. Just have to assume I am being broadcast over the office loudspeakers.

I am reminded of what Mark Twain said: "When in doubt, tell the truth".

"I keep thinking about what your fiance did to you," I say. "I don't know what his issues were, but I could tell he really really hurt you."


"You seem like you are ready to settle down....and honestly, I am not."

"So you want something CASUAL."


"What if I told you I was ok with that?"

Oh, shit. I CANNOT be with Julie. Casual or not, it will be all over the office that we are hot and heavy, unless we are totally broken up. It's either her or Lila.

"You're not ok with that."

"How the hell do YOU know, Steve? How do you know?"

"You didn't see the look on your face when you pulled that picture out of your bag, Julie."

"He hurt me. I GET IT! But why does that mean I want a serious relationship? Maybe it means I DON'T want one!"

"Julie, listen. To be very honest with you, I keep thinking about the rumors that are going around about us. I don't have a problem dating a coworker, but in this particular company, unless you are really serious, I don't think it's worth it. We are the Ben Affleck and J.Lo of this place right now, you know."

"So you don't want people talking about you."

"That's part of it. And to be honest, I just wouldn't feel good about dating you casually. I feel like, if I'm going to be with someone like you, I couldn't do it halfway. I would start to fall for you, and....."

"So you're afraid of a commitment," she says, in very clipped tones.

DINGDINGDING! On to the bonus round!

"Relationship wise, Julie, I'm kinda bad news right now. You deserve someone better."

"Yeah. I think I do. Goodbye, Steve." CLICK.


Well, THAT went well!

In a day or so, the rumor will probably be that I am a complete asshole who, incomprehensibly, dumped the most sought-after woman in the company. Good.

Thinning the Herd

I have decided it's time to get this girl situation under control. When it rains, it pours, as they say, and I have three very desirable women interested in me right now. I am sure all of them are highly sought after.

I am reminded of the movie "The Last Tango in Paris". Marlon Brando meets a much younger woman, who loves him dearly, but he won't commit to her. In fact, he WON'T EVEN TELL HER HIS NAME! He does use butter to ass-fuck her, though. (Shoulda used margarine.) It's a great movie - rent it!

The basic premise behind this movie is that the only people some women fall in love with are people who can't be loved. I feel like that is what is going on with these three. Especially with Lila.

I have decided I can't fuck Lila and Julie at the same time. I am REALLY curious about Julie, though. I have never had sex with an attorney before. Usually I don't like Asian girls in bed - they just lay there, most of the time - but Julie seems different. But I already know what I am getting with Lila, and Julie is unknown. If I start dating Julie, Lila would dump me because she would hear all about what is going on. She might even crack and start flapping her gums about us. Would I lose Lila forever just to sample Julie? Doubt it. Julie seems a bit high-maintenance, anyway. So I think it's time to kick her to the curb.

I am excited about Kelly. It may sound corny to say, but if I am ever going to "fall in love" with a woman, it's going to be a woman with the patience of a saint, who can wait for me, and with a lot of maturity to see through my petty adolescent bullshit. It would have to be someone who can laugh at the world, and not take screwed-up people too seriously. I think Kelly could be that person. But in the meantime, I wouldn't mind finding out how she is in bed.

It looks like I am road-tripping for a week later this month to visit some agents as a part of my liaison project.

There is a girl, Victoria, who is a sales rep for one of our vendors. She is engaged, but she and I screw whenever she is in town. Whenever I travel, I call her and see if our schedules coincide. So I'll have to see what she's up to...and how the "wedding plans" are coming ;-).

Gotta figure out how to break it to Julie....

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

and woman #35 is..............................

My phone rings at 6:00 tonight. I don't recognize the name or number.


"Hey, Steve!" She sounds familiar. Is it Kelly?

I never say, "who is this?" on the phone. Finding out myself is much more fun. And I never guess. What if it's a girl, and I guess wrong?

"How's it going?" I say.

"Oh, gosh, I just got done showing a house, and it's been so hot today - I am TOTALLY ready for drinks tonight!"

Ahh, it's Kelly, all right. And she's a real estate agent! Yet another girl who is probably out-earning me. Maybe I ought to hook up with one of these chicks and just retire!

"Yeah, I'm having a rough week myself."

"So listen," she says. "I know we were just supposed to have drinks tonight, but I am STARVING. Would it be ok if we got dinner too?"

I don't know what it was, but I suddenly felt really good about this girl. She had an easy confidence about her. She!

"Absolutely not," I say.

"uhhh...." she says.


"You jerk," she laughs.

"Hey, you asked me!" I say.

"So where are you taking me, JERK!" she says, still laughing.

"How about McGillicuddy's? They have good burgers there."


I picked her up about an hour later. I didn't show it, but I got weak in the knees when she answered the door.

Let's see if I can describe her: Long, wavy blonde hair (think Faith Hill), perfect teeth and smile (remember - Christina Applegate?), crystal blue eyes. Her jeans were perfect - not too tight, not too loose, and her ass is to DIE for. Round and firm - a "bubble ass". And she was wearing a black midriff-exposing shirt. I love it when an ample-chested girl wears a cutoff shirt, and the bottom of the shirt just kind of hangs out there, away from her body, reminding you how big her boobs are...

In addition to all this, I got hit with a wave of flowery perfume when she opened the door, so all my senses were pretty much reeling. She was putting on an earring as she let me in. Her head was tilted to the side, and she looked up at me as she put the earring in...what a picture. It wasn't quite Lila in the hotel room, but it was not shabby.

"I'll be ready in a second," she says, smiling. "JERK!" What, is this my pet name now?

So she puts on a pair of open-back sneakers (another turn-on for me; what, is she reading my blog?) and we head out.

My initial impression of Kelly was exactly right. She was very easygoing and fun all night long. She told funny stories, laughed a lot, and generally seemed to have no hangups whatsoever.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that she is so uninhibited, that she might be willing to do the "Wild Mambo" with me tonight. Why the hell not?

After about 3 hours at the bar, I figure, what the hell? I am way overstocked on girls right now. HOT girls. If I get shot down, so what? So I turn to her and decide to go for the "hard close," as the sales guys call it.

"You wanna get outta here," I say. I'm not smiling anymore.

She looked at me for a second. "OK," she says. She's not smiling either.

COULD THIS BE IT? COULD KELLY BE #35??!! It's looking good!

I get on the road, and start heading to my house.

"Can we go to my place, please?"

"Absolutely not," I say, smiling.

So we get there, and I kind of follow her to the door, and she unlocks it and holds it for me. As soon as we get inside, she kicks her sneakers off. It may seem insignificant, but when a girl takes her shoes off in front of me, I always feel like I have a good shot. She's feeling comfortable!

She throws her keys on the counter and says, "You wanta drink?"

"No." I put my hand around her back and pull her to me. Her perfume hits me like a wave. Her breath is hot against my face. She looks surprised for a second. Then she looks my face up and down and licks her lips.

Then she kisses me.

Pretty soon we are into a hard-core makeout session: neck kissing, lip biting, tongues in mouths, etc. So I go for the next step (tit squeezing), and she pushes my hand away.

I really hate extended makeouts. If you are kissing for more than, say, 10 minutes, chances are that's as far as you are getting that night. And with my sex drive, I get "blue balls" really easily.

So, after about 10 minutes, I am ready to excuse myself to go to the can, just to break the monotony, when......


Holy shit!!! It's back on!!!!

So I start rubbing her, really gently.

Guys always make the mistake of rubbing too hard down there, especially when the girl has clothes on: They act like they are sanding a two-by-four! I think of it like I'm petting a kitten. Which I am, in a way, right?

Now I can feel her getting REALLY warm. And I am ready to close the deal. So I go for her boob again, under the shirt this time, and SHE PUSHES MY HAND AWAY AGAIN!

Jesus Christ! WTF!!!!

Hey honey, in case you didn't notice, I'm already on third base here, so why not let me steal second!

"What is it," I say.

"I'm married," she says, almost conversationally.

HOLY FUCKING SHITTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't care that she's married. I've slept with married women before. As far as I am concerned, if things are that bad that she is out screwing someone else, it's not much of a marriage anyway. What bothers me is:

A) She doesn't wear a ring, so she might be lying, in which case she's a freak and/or a psycho;
B) She didn't tell me until now; and
C) She waited until the worst possible moment to do so. To me, that is just strange.

"Goodbye, Kelly," I say, and start getting up. Wonder if Lila is home, I am thinking...

"WAIT Steve, WAIT!! Please let me explain!"

I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say, she is 27, and she got married at 23. They broke up and reconciled twice. She dumped him last summer and they have been living apart ever since. She never filed for divorce and always thought they'd get back together again.

"But I'm thinking it's time to move on," she says.

"Good luck with that," I say. This chick has baggage, and she hides it well, but it's still baggage, and that usually means no sex - just talking.

"When can I see you again? JERK!" she says, punching my arm. I look at her, and the smile is back. She is happy! She is having a good time...maybe she just needs to tie up some loose ends. And after seeing that smile, I still, despite the weirdness, have a very good feeling about this 27-year-old real estate agent.

"When?" I say. "Hmmmm." I pull out my BlackBerry. "2006 is wide open!"

"Shut up!" She pulls out her own BlackBerry. "How about drinks Friday night?"

"No," I say. "How about massages, hot tub and dinner on Friday?"

"OOOOOOOOOO! Ok, cool!"

Well, it's going to cost me money - HUGE money - but Friday night might be the night. And I hope so, too, because all this whacking is giving me carpal tunnel syndrome.

I am starting to feel like I am pushing the envelope too much: Too many girls, too many dates, too many chances to get caught. I might have to make some hard decisions soon....

Is it still a "love triangle" if there are 4 of us?

So Julie calls me this morning around 9:00. "How's 12:00 for lunch today," she says.

"Guess I'm not meeting with Jack."

"Well, I could arrange that....but his hair is not as shiny as mine."

"Oh yeah! Ok, 12 is good."

Julie and I had a great lunch together. She is a very interesting person. Her mom is Korean; her dad is Italian. They met while her dad was in the service. Her 34th birthday is next week, so she IS older than me, by about 5 months.

She doesn't get along well with her mother; her mom, evidently, wanted her to marry this son of a couple her parents know, who is now with NASA and making 300k a year. "You see?" Her mother screams at her. "That boy very rich, very powerful now! That could be you with him!"

"But mom," Julie says. "He's got bad breath, and he doesn't even own a TV!"

"Wachoo need TV for," her mother says.

I got a really good look at Julie. Her hair is incredible - a deep, rich black and as shiny as glass. It looks literally like no hair is out of place. And I love "mixed" Asian girls' eyes. They are a bit slanted, but big and brown at the same time.

She seemed really interested in what I had to say. She wanted to know all about my childhood, where I grew up, what I liked to do as a kid.

"So how did you spend your time as a youngster," she says.

Oh, that's easy. Eating. And jerking off. A lot. Oh, and I usually thought about girls just like you when I did it.

"Oh, you know, studying and spending time at home. I was not a very active kid, unfortunately, but I did take my schoolwork really seriously."

"What was your favorite subject?"

"Math and science, for sure...."

"How did you get along with your parents?"

What, am I in therapy with her now? WTF?!

"Have you ever been married," she says, with a sidelong glance.

"No. Engaged. It didn't end well, I'm afraid."

"mmmmmm". She picks at her Fettucine Alfredo.

Well? What is she waiting for?? Doesn't she know the game, "I'll show you mine, you show me yours"?



"You said you wanted to talk to me before our date. Our SECOND date. And I don't think it was just about some geeky rocket scientist."

"I was supposed to be married," she says haltingly. "But the guy turned out to be a fucking dick."

I try not to change my expression when I hear something shocking. Not sure how well I did there. She had never sworn at all since I had known her, not even a "hell" or a "damn".

I was about to learn Julie's elusive dating history! Remember, this is a great mystery in the office...

"His name is Andy. He's in the service, stationed in Turkey. Evidently, he's sleeping with one of his fellow...... SOLDIERS," she sneers.

"Got a picture?"

"Why? You like men in uniform?"


But she reaches into her bag, and pulls out her wallet. "Here he is." It looks like a Prada bag, BTW.

The guy seemed normal enough, about 6' tall, boyish face, big smile. He could have been your next door neighbor.

I look at Julie's hands. No rings anywhere.

"Did he ask you to marry him?"

She nods. Her eyes start to water. Better get off this topic quick.

OK, so I guess Julie is not gay.

Sometimes I think my behavior is less like an addict and more like an antisocial. An addict, when he is jonesing, doesn't care who he runs over to get what he wants. But I'm not jonesing, not this minute, and I am really enjoying The give and take, trying to figure her out, trying to impress her, wondering if I have a chance.

The game is the best analogy I can come up with. I am PLAYING with Julie. I am PLAYING with Lila. I am PLAYING with Kelly. I don't truly care about any of them, in my heart of hearts.

I should feel awful about what I am trying to do. I am trying to seduce her, trying to get her into bed for my own selfish desires. She's been torn apart by a cheating boyfriend. Sounds like she hasn't been in too many serious relationships, either, so that makes it even worse. Shouldn't I want to take it easy on her? Yeah, I definitely should.

And yet, as she walks to the bathroom, I can't help but stare at her tight little ass and wonder what color panties she is wearing.

I can't wait to find out.

Oh, by the way, looks like I am getting that liaison job. HR should be sending me an offer letter soon.

When I got back to the office, I checked the Neiman Marcus catalog. Yep, it was a Prada bag. NINE HUNDRED FUCKING DOLLARS!!


The rumors are worse than I suspected at the office. EVERYONE is asking me how my new "GF" is. I keep telling them that there's nothing to tell....yet. 'Yeah, she's beautiful.' 'Yeah, I like her.' 'We'll just wait and see what happens,' I tell them.

Lila heard all about it, just like I thought she would. She made a point of avoiding eye contact when I came in.

Ten minutes later, she stomps into my office, throws a ten-page fax at me, and goes back to her desk. Paper rains down all over.

I wait five minutes for her to cool down. Then I buzz her. "Lila, I need to see you in my office, please," I say.

She stomps in again, and throws herself into a chair, folding her arms and pouting. I close the door.

"I never got a chance to say I'm sorry," I say. "I was a major dickhead, I know. You are a good person and you don't deserve that. And, I just want you to know, there is NOTHING going on with me and Julie."

"I heard she was fucking all over you all night long. And you were loving it!"

"We were talking, Lila. She touched my arm a few times, for Christ's sake."

"I know you. You fucked her. Didn't you!"

"No! I didn't even kiss her, Lila!" Well, that was almost true.

She bites her lip and closes her eyes. It's almost the face she makes during sex, I think. She unfolds her arms. "I just....I.... this is sooo hard for me," she says. "When we were together, I wanted to be with you all the time. I felt like, that we were.... meant to be together. We get along so well! I just... didn't want to be with ANYONE else, ever. And I KNOW that you wanted to go slow, but, I....just couldn't. But now I feel like I'd rather be with you and go slow than not be with you."


"Are you sure," I ask.

"I don't know," she says.

"No matter what happens, I want you to know I will always be there for you," I say. "If there is anything I can do for you, no matter what...." I don't like to say, "I'll always be your friend". It's too cliche'd.


"And I just want you to know that, whatever is wrong with me, it's personal...looking at you, how great you are, sometimes I wonder what the hell is wrong with me. I should be in love with you....

Oh, man..did I just say that? Lila's eyes suddenly get huge.

....I can't guarantee you that I'll ever get over what is bothering me. But I can tell you that I really, really liked things the way they were. And if you want to go back to that..."

"OK, I'll think about it," she says.

I am reminded of what Confuscious says: "Be careful what you wish for: You might get it." Fucking two women in the same office is highly dangerous. Not sure I could pull it off, and if I can't, I'd probably lose both. But at the moment, I'm not fucking either.

"Call me tonight?" I say. She nods.

Oh, shit. I have a date with Kelly tonight...better turn my phone off.

Ahh, Kelly...wonder what color panties SHE is wearing....wonder if I'll find out...