Disaffected

Or perhaps it’s just Mike. He’s fantastic in bed, and we have the kind of sex where we go though all the positions in the Karma Sutra, or Tracy Cox’s Super-sex, either way, many acrobatic situations. And incredibly, they all feel great, which is usually not the case when you try to have acrobatic sex. It’s normally very exhausting, with minimum pleasure, although doing it in a quasi-Victorian bedroom with a huge ceiling mirror does up the excitement ante by a great deal. But for some reason or other, I fell asleep just wanting to be left alone. All things considered, I was far more concerned with getting a solid run of 8 hours then to wake up a few times in the middle of the night because it was uncomfortable sleeping with his arm under my neck. I like him well enough, but more then anything, I think it’s because the sex is great and he lives a full 10 minutes away. And takes the same train to school with me.

I was thinking of getting a new set of bedcovers for him though, because I can’t stand the particular green his current ones are, but ended up purchasing yet another new dress. It was way too good to give up though, it looked straight out of One and Only Dolls. I’ll just find a set that’s lying around in the house; you know how women over 40 have a penchant for buying home-ware on discount (I live with my mom.) I also re-bought the dress the whore stole, and told a rather bemused, gay looking sales-boy the whole encounter.

On to thieving whores, Ethan has finally told me what happened to his fake Tissot.

xoxox