anti folk

Dear Diary:

Once again I find myself amazed at what a push-over I can be. I’m such a hard ass at work bellowing out orders like a regular fish monger’s wife.

“I really think I better get a hold of myself
Don’t wanna let the night get ahead of myself
Whisperin’ her love through a smoke ring smile
She doesn’t know what happens when she’s around….”

I was in an impromptu meeting with Management once again arguing that having an office at 52 and governors (the G-spot) makes no sense when I travel between Plains Road (Kuntrus Ballet)_ and Catherine Street (Sector Exe) when Big Bad called.

“Come home, I wanna fool around.”

“I’m busy” says I in an imploring tone knowing that hearing those words I longed to hear whispered into the phone receiver would bring me to my knees quite literally.

“C’mon home, I wanna fool around.”

I began with a “it’ll take me a couple of…” which disintegrated into an “yes, of course I….” and ended with an “I’m leaving now.” I considered being strong and dynamic and liberated. I did. But what the hell is the point in that?

“Probably lay my head on a wooden floor
Tell her I was tired from working the store
Counting all the cash from an old shoebox
Saving up to buy her something she wants….”

I’ve spent hours and weeks and months and years just wishing I could be with someone who was always trying to get into my panties. I’ve spent hours and weeks and months and years just wishing I could be with someone who is romantically and sexually adventurous/experimental. I’ve spent hours and weeks and months and years just wishing I could be with someone who teases me as much or more as I tease them.

Now that I have him on the end of the phone line coaxing and sweet-talking me into an afternoon intimacy was I really going to be strong and dynamic and liberating and turn him down. Uhhhh, let me think about it NO. Are you kidding? That kind of flattery has my pussy throbbing for days. Every time I’ll think about his taking sweet I’ll squish and dew all over again.

“Take a little picture in a photo booth
Keep it in a locket and I think of you
Both of our pictures, face to face
Take off your necklace and throw it away…”

So I did a song and a dance about the pig eating a plastic fork and had my driver take the Linc and was home in less than 15 minutes and into one Big Bad lap. Then I was doing a different kind of dance and Big Bad’s lap liked it. Sometimes it pays to work in a strip joint and in just the way you think.

“Really think I better get a hold of myself
Don’t wanna let the night get ahead of myself
Whisperin’ her love through a smoke ring smile
She doesn’t know what happens when she’s around…”

I find myself amazed at what a push-over I can be.

Love,

Sin