My Space

Myspace.com is a great way to promote my site and to get in touch with some cool women and men who are into what I’m doing here.

It does have its drawbacks. Lots of messages from angry little men who want to touch me with their angry little penises.

And lots of dumb men. Sorry, I don’t mean to pick on the poor souls who were not blessed with an IQ, but I think these guys could try a little harder. “Hey baby what’s up?” or worse “hey ba-B wot is up, u r hot” What the hell? Do you write the liner notes for Prince’s albums?

I was surprised today to find myself having a nice flirty exchange with Dave. Dave did several things right;

1) Dave did not ask to see a picture of me, or to have my real name, or to hook up in the “real world”. The reason he did not is because

2) Dave actually read my profile and even read my blog. Dave liked my story “The Show” and made references to it that let me know he’d actually read it and got it.

3) Dave was smart and charming and polite while not being afraid to be flirty.

The big surprise to me was that as we exchanged messages I actually started to get hot. His picture did nothing for me at first, as it was typical male model pic, probably not really him, but the more we flirted the more the picture took on a bit of personality.

My boss was staying away. I wore a short skirt today which keeps the boss at a distance. He’s a born again and repressed enough to avoid that which may cause the dirty thoughts. I am that which may cause the dirty thoughts, especially in my short skirt. He is repressed in this way, but progressive enough to blame himself and not me for his sin of lust, so he leaves me alone. I shouldn’t exploit it, but damn, Mondays are rough enough without the boss hanging over your shoulder.

I was alone at my desk and I was rubbing my thighs together. I had a quick fantasy about a salesman coming into our office, which happens dozens of times a day. I’d recognize the salesman as David, and I’d tease him a bit, as he wouldn’t know who I was. Eventually though, I’d tell him where the bathroom was, without him asking, and I’d tell him that he didn’t have to lock the door. I’d sneak in a few moments after him, and I would lock the door. I’d tell him we had to be quick as I turned on the sink, slid my skirt up and my panties down and gripped both sides of the sink. I’d watch myself getting fucked by him in the mirror.

This little zipperless fuck of a fantasy had me getting too hot. I quit checking myspace and I probably got more work done in an hour than I usually do in a day. It’s a beautiful day here and I walked to work. I left to walk home. I passed the small health food market on the way and went in for a pear. I couldn’t stop thinking of David, and though I know where he’s from I kept looking at men that might be him, thinking that somehow he’d know who I was.

I was hot, and I didn’t want to wait until I got home. I went into the bathroom at the health food store, got my skirt up and touched myself through my panties. I came quickly; One quick, fast, but quite nice orgasm.

I exited the bathroom. The boy who bags the groceries was waiting to use the bathroom and I was sure that he knew what I’d done in there. I gave him a smile and paid for my pear which I ate on the way home, juice running down my chin.