This Friday I'm going to a pretty well known Chicago Bears rookie's birthday party. It's at a relatively upscale club downtown that has a $20 cover charge and $7.50 shots. It's an "exclusive event," and I have no idea what that means, but I'm figuring it's a guest list only type of deal since there will be quasi-celebrities there, or at least local celebs. I'm pretty excited because I'm a huge Bears fan, but I don't want to be that girl who tries to canoodle with a football player and I won't be, especially since I'm going with my sister and her boyfriend, who is the reason why we're able to go anyway. But, I'm not going to lie, I'm crossing my fingers and hoping Brian Urlacher is there. I met him once when I was in 8th grade, and oh what a story that is.
I can't remember what day of the week it was, but I feel like it was a Monday because I was wearing my Urlacher jersey, and I usually wore it on Mondays to celebrate their game on Sunday. One of my friends informed me that Urlacher was doing an autograph signing at a Best Buy store in another suburb, about an hour away from my town. This is when I started to devise my plan. Right before lunch, I asked my teacher if I could go to the nurse because I wasn't feeling well. The nurse told me the standard, "You don't have a fever and you're not vomitting, so go back to class," but I insisted on calling my mom, who was home with my little sister. The nurse informed me that my mom was on her way, so I went to my locker to get my stuff and to my class to inform my teacher that I wouldn't be back at school. "Hope you feel better," he said. As I walked out the door, trying to hide my smirk, I heard one of my guy friends shout out, "Yeah right! She's not sick! She's going to see Urlacher!" It was true. Hopefully.
When I got in my mom's van with a smirk on my face, she asked me what was going on. "So, listen. Don't be mad. But, I heard Brian Urlacher is going to do an autograph signing today...and you know how much I love him...can I go?" She laughed at how ridiculous I was and told me she couldn't believe that I pulled this, but when we got home, she called my dad. "Your daughter came home sick. Let her tell you why." I grabbed the receiver and a nervous knot of guilt stirred in my stomach. "Dad..Brian Urlacher is going to be signing autographs today! Isn't that awesome? It doesn't cost anything to get in I don't think...can we go? Can we PLEASE go?!" I rambled off. "Where is it," he asked. He sighed when I told him how far away it was, but he said he would be home shortly.
We got to the Best Buy and surprisingly there wasn't much of a line, but we were there hours in advance, of course. As it got closer to Urlacher's arrival, I started to get super excited, as any 14 year old girl would over their beloved celebrity. I heard a roar of applause and strained on my tip-toes to see if he was here. He walked in with his brother and they towered above everyone else. I took a picture, which only caught their heads and neck as the giddiness came over me. I waited anxiously in line with my white jersey in one hand to be signed and my blue jersey on me. Fuck, I'm not wearing any fucking make-up. When it was finally my turn, I sheepishly walked up placed my jersey on the table. "Where do you want it signed," he asked. Oh shit...I don't know. I awkwardly pointed to a spot and he looked down at my fingers. "Pretty cool nail polish." What? Brian Urlacher...did you really compliment my nail polish??? Yes, it was cool, it was kind fo irridescent, but really? I'm sure I blushed and was all flustered as I tried to bend down so that my dad could snap a picture of me with him. Unfortunately, I forgot to wind the little knob, as this was before we had digital cameras, and he thought the camera was broken so we moved on. I still haven't forgiven for that, but hopefully this weekend will make up for it. As my dad and I walked back to the car, I was in awe. "Sweet Jesus, he's hot," I said, not to anyone in particular. My dad looked at me and shook his head and said, "That's enough of that." I guess it would be awkward to hear your tween taughter say that. It's still one of my favorite memories and I adore my father for having the patience to take me there and wait with me in line for about four and half hours.
Looking back, I often think about what I would have said if I had been at least 18, okay, maybe 15 and lied about my age, and if my dad hadn't been with me. I'm sure I would have shown a little cleavage or something. It seems odd that people try so desperately to hook up with celebrities when they don't actually know them. Some people are often delusional and think that if they read enough about someone, that they know them. Untrue. I may know Brian Urlacher's stats and where he went to college, but by no means do I think I know him. So if he is there this weekend, I'll probably let out a squeal and an "OMIGOD!" but I wouldn't approach him. I wouldn't tell him that I'd suck him off in the bathroom if he wanted to. But, he good autograph my boob if he was so inclined....Just saying.
Showing posts with label if only. Show all posts
Showing posts with label if only. Show all posts
Monday, December 8, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Ok..and I wanna fuck.
Halloween has come and gone and we are now at 11 days until my 21st birthday. It seems kind of silly to be excited to turn 21 since I already drink, but I guess the thrill lies within being able to do so in a legal manner. For Halloween, several of my friends including Rambo, a skanky Girl Scout, a skanky tennis player, a librarian, Batman, a penguin, a few construction workers, and myself hit the bars. Many of the bars we went to were carding very strictly, so we did not stay long as some of us (me.......and two others) were not of age quite yet. I mean, am I really going to gain so much maturity in the next week or so that I would do something differently in regards to my actions? I doubt it.
After the bar scene, we went to this chick's house, who I don't know, but one of my friends does and she said it was cool to come over. Well, it was a different story when we got there. We had stopped off at a liquor store to purchase some whiskey, Amaretto, sweet & sour mix, pomegranite Schnapps, and some beer. Needless to say, we were prepared to make our own drinks and share with guests. Upon entering her house, which we thought was going to be packed with people, we all felt a weird sense of not belonging. This was further perpetuated by the hostess, or reluctant hostess I should say, looking at my friends and me up and down, then storming off to the garage with a guy who had led us to her house. We looked around at each other and the four other people who we didn't know as we poured our drinks.
Prior to this, our mutual friend of the reluctant hostess had told us that reluctant hostess is 24, cheating on her husband with an 18 year old, and loves to have people over. Hmm. When we arrived, there was a total of five people at reluctant hostess' house and they were playing beer pong. Sounds like a real fucking party, huh? We poured our drinks in silence as we tried to figure out why reluctant hostess was being such a cunt. After she gave me the death stare and said, "What are these people fucking 16?" we decided that we probably shouldn't be there. I chugged my drink and turned to my friends, "Um, I think cradle robber over there would prefer if we leave...so follow my lead?" We walked out without saying our goodbyes and I was tempted to pee in her lawn, very classy I know. Our mutual friend tried to smoothe the situation over, but it was useless, the awkwardness was a buzz kill and none of us wanted to party with that bitch anymore. It's a good thing, too, because her husband (who travels alot) came home Surprise! and a lot of drama followed. God has a funny way of working things out, right?
We all drove back to school to get drunk in the dorms since the party at the football house had gotten busted long before. I was a little disappointed with my plans, so I took some shots of whiskey to forget about the turnout of the night. An hour later I was wandering to the bathroom and almost peed myself because I couldn't get the door to lock, but I made it, just barely. As college girls do, we began documenting our night via digital cameras. I reviewed some of them after I pranced around, giving everyone a free show because my skirt had ridden up a bit. What's a little flash of skin between good friends though? Around 1am I sauntered back to my room, hoping that none of my residents would see me sneak in. I was unsuccessful, but the resident that talked to me is one of my favorites, so I'm pretty sure she won't report me to my boss.
I got in my room and plopped onto my bed, not wanting to change or take off my makeup. I closed my eyes for a few minutes and cursed myself as I scrolled through my contacts list and hit send when it landed on Douchebag's name and number. He answered on the third ring, "Hey girl, whatcha doing?"
"Just got back from a little get together...what are you doing?"
"At a party, too. It's pretty gay though. No one knows what I'm dressed up as."
"What are you dressed up as?"
"That guy from Hot Fuzz...I thought it would be funny."
I have to admit that I don't know what he's talking about here, I've heard of the movie and everything, but I'm not familiar with it enough to know what character he's talking about, so I moved on.."So...do you wanna come over later?" I asked.
"Probably, yeah. Can I sleep there? And if you sleep on the floor again I'm going to be fucking pissed."
I laughed, but would have preferred if he didn't sleep over. I do enjoy sprawling out when I sleep and that's barely possible with just me in my bed.
"No, I won't sleep on the floor, I promise."
"Okay, I'm going to leave soon. I'll see you a little later tonight, baby."
I hung up and pulled myself out of bed to go brush my teeth. When I came back, I saw my phone lighting up and buzzing around on my bed. Call? No, it was a text message from Dbag. I thought it was going to say something like, "I can't wait to fuck you," or, "I can't wait to feel your mouth on my cock." It didn't say anything like that. It said, "I can't make it tonight...I'm stuck downtown, tomorrow night?"
What?!! No. Not tomorrow night. Now, motherfucker.
"I want you so bad right now, and I don't have work in the morning. Come over tonight," I replied.
"I wish I could.."
"Yeah..so does my pussy. If you wanna come tomorrow, I guess let me know before midnite."
"Ok..and I want to fuck," he said. Really? Because you certainly don't seem like it.
"Well, we'll see what happens if and when you come over."
"I can't take the teasing."
I laughed at that. I'm the tease? I'm pretty sure I made you fucking cum twice without even bitching to you about how I didn't orgasm. That's rare, douche, be thankful.
"What? You're the tease. I was totally ready when I asked you over earlier this week...twice."
"It's just you didn't give me any heads up, you know? I'll stay up late when I know I have to," he said. That was kind of true. I asked him over at like 9:30 and he has to get up for work early..
"Excuses, excuses. Like I said, you let me know if you want to come over tomorrow kind of early so I don't fuck myself over for Sunday."
He didn't reply back. He didn't contact me on Saturday. I mean I know I'm not the dumbass here. I'm not the only that's stopping anything from happening. Why can't he just come over and make me come, dammit!! One orgasm, that's it. I'll be happy for awhile with that. It's pretty obvious he's not interested, isn't it? That's so pitiful to write out. I ask myself why I care, but I know it's because I'm horny and not attracted to anyone else right now. If there was another prospect, I probably would have stopped talking to Douchebag already, but there's not. Girls outnumber guys at my school at about 9:1 and of those guys that actually go here, about 5% of them are attractive to me. Of that 5%, 4% are in a comitted relationship. That leaves me 1%. Just one. A single little lonely itsy bitsy one-percent. And they have their pick of the litter really because there's so much fucking pussy at this school that you'd think it was a convent.
I just want some action, for fuckssake. We already hooked up twice, fucktard, why won't you just hook up with me again when I want to? Is that the reason...do you feel the need to dictate when and how we hook up? Because honestly, if that's the problem, fine...I'll do it on your terms, just as long as your terms are relatively consistent...and by consistent I mean daily. Okay, that might be excessive, but minimum 4x weekly. Here's a girl, telling you that she wants to hook up with you, suck your cock, rub your balls, swallow your cum, while NOT being your girlfriend.....and you're turning it down? I mean I know I'm not fucking Angelina Jolie or anything, but I'm not disgusting. What's the problem? Guys talk about girls being hesitant, but good fucking Lord, let's get this thing going. I set you up for the kill and you whiffed. A few times. Am I making it too easy by not giving you a chase? I don't have any of the answers. All I know is that I want some action and you're lucky enough that I want it from you. Can't you just accept that this can work so well if you'd just let it?
End venting session....
After the bar scene, we went to this chick's house, who I don't know, but one of my friends does and she said it was cool to come over. Well, it was a different story when we got there. We had stopped off at a liquor store to purchase some whiskey, Amaretto, sweet & sour mix, pomegranite Schnapps, and some beer. Needless to say, we were prepared to make our own drinks and share with guests. Upon entering her house, which we thought was going to be packed with people, we all felt a weird sense of not belonging. This was further perpetuated by the hostess, or reluctant hostess I should say, looking at my friends and me up and down, then storming off to the garage with a guy who had led us to her house. We looked around at each other and the four other people who we didn't know as we poured our drinks.
Prior to this, our mutual friend of the reluctant hostess had told us that reluctant hostess is 24, cheating on her husband with an 18 year old, and loves to have people over. Hmm. When we arrived, there was a total of five people at reluctant hostess' house and they were playing beer pong. Sounds like a real fucking party, huh? We poured our drinks in silence as we tried to figure out why reluctant hostess was being such a cunt. After she gave me the death stare and said, "What are these people fucking 16?" we decided that we probably shouldn't be there. I chugged my drink and turned to my friends, "Um, I think cradle robber over there would prefer if we leave...so follow my lead?" We walked out without saying our goodbyes and I was tempted to pee in her lawn, very classy I know. Our mutual friend tried to smoothe the situation over, but it was useless, the awkwardness was a buzz kill and none of us wanted to party with that bitch anymore. It's a good thing, too, because her husband (who travels alot) came home Surprise! and a lot of drama followed. God has a funny way of working things out, right?
We all drove back to school to get drunk in the dorms since the party at the football house had gotten busted long before. I was a little disappointed with my plans, so I took some shots of whiskey to forget about the turnout of the night. An hour later I was wandering to the bathroom and almost peed myself because I couldn't get the door to lock, but I made it, just barely. As college girls do, we began documenting our night via digital cameras. I reviewed some of them after I pranced around, giving everyone a free show because my skirt had ridden up a bit. What's a little flash of skin between good friends though? Around 1am I sauntered back to my room, hoping that none of my residents would see me sneak in. I was unsuccessful, but the resident that talked to me is one of my favorites, so I'm pretty sure she won't report me to my boss.
I got in my room and plopped onto my bed, not wanting to change or take off my makeup. I closed my eyes for a few minutes and cursed myself as I scrolled through my contacts list and hit send when it landed on Douchebag's name and number. He answered on the third ring, "Hey girl, whatcha doing?"
"Just got back from a little get together...what are you doing?"
"At a party, too. It's pretty gay though. No one knows what I'm dressed up as."
"What are you dressed up as?"
"That guy from Hot Fuzz...I thought it would be funny."
I have to admit that I don't know what he's talking about here, I've heard of the movie and everything, but I'm not familiar with it enough to know what character he's talking about, so I moved on.."So...do you wanna come over later?" I asked.
"Probably, yeah. Can I sleep there? And if you sleep on the floor again I'm going to be fucking pissed."
I laughed, but would have preferred if he didn't sleep over. I do enjoy sprawling out when I sleep and that's barely possible with just me in my bed.
"No, I won't sleep on the floor, I promise."
"Okay, I'm going to leave soon. I'll see you a little later tonight, baby."
I hung up and pulled myself out of bed to go brush my teeth. When I came back, I saw my phone lighting up and buzzing around on my bed. Call? No, it was a text message from Dbag. I thought it was going to say something like, "I can't wait to fuck you," or, "I can't wait to feel your mouth on my cock." It didn't say anything like that. It said, "I can't make it tonight...I'm stuck downtown, tomorrow night?"
What?!! No. Not tomorrow night. Now, motherfucker.
"I want you so bad right now, and I don't have work in the morning. Come over tonight," I replied.
"I wish I could.."
"Yeah..so does my pussy. If you wanna come tomorrow, I guess let me know before midnite."
"Ok..and I want to fuck," he said. Really? Because you certainly don't seem like it.
"Well, we'll see what happens if and when you come over."
"I can't take the teasing."
I laughed at that. I'm the tease? I'm pretty sure I made you fucking cum twice without even bitching to you about how I didn't orgasm. That's rare, douche, be thankful.
"What? You're the tease. I was totally ready when I asked you over earlier this week...twice."
"It's just you didn't give me any heads up, you know? I'll stay up late when I know I have to," he said. That was kind of true. I asked him over at like 9:30 and he has to get up for work early..
"Excuses, excuses. Like I said, you let me know if you want to come over tomorrow kind of early so I don't fuck myself over for Sunday."
He didn't reply back. He didn't contact me on Saturday. I mean I know I'm not the dumbass here. I'm not the only that's stopping anything from happening. Why can't he just come over and make me come, dammit!! One orgasm, that's it. I'll be happy for awhile with that. It's pretty obvious he's not interested, isn't it? That's so pitiful to write out. I ask myself why I care, but I know it's because I'm horny and not attracted to anyone else right now. If there was another prospect, I probably would have stopped talking to Douchebag already, but there's not. Girls outnumber guys at my school at about 9:1 and of those guys that actually go here, about 5% of them are attractive to me. Of that 5%, 4% are in a comitted relationship. That leaves me 1%. Just one. A single little lonely itsy bitsy one-percent. And they have their pick of the litter really because there's so much fucking pussy at this school that you'd think it was a convent.
I just want some action, for fuckssake. We already hooked up twice, fucktard, why won't you just hook up with me again when I want to? Is that the reason...do you feel the need to dictate when and how we hook up? Because honestly, if that's the problem, fine...I'll do it on your terms, just as long as your terms are relatively consistent...and by consistent I mean daily. Okay, that might be excessive, but minimum 4x weekly. Here's a girl, telling you that she wants to hook up with you, suck your cock, rub your balls, swallow your cum, while NOT being your girlfriend.....and you're turning it down? I mean I know I'm not fucking Angelina Jolie or anything, but I'm not disgusting. What's the problem? Guys talk about girls being hesitant, but good fucking Lord, let's get this thing going. I set you up for the kill and you whiffed. A few times. Am I making it too easy by not giving you a chase? I don't have any of the answers. All I know is that I want some action and you're lucky enough that I want it from you. Can't you just accept that this can work so well if you'd just let it?
End venting session....
Sunday, September 14, 2008
It's called a fantasy because I know it couldn't ever be real.
For the past 24 hours I've been absolutely obsessed with the song "Strong Enough," preferably sung by Sheryl Crow. I'm not sure why, it actually just popped into my head Saturday afternoon when I got out of the shower. I didn't have it on my iTunes, so I youTubed it like any cheap college student who can't afford "legal" songs would do. The song is poignant and endearing. It made me want to cry and it made me think of my ex-boyfriend and the good times we had, as well as the bad times. Then, it made me think of everything I want in a relationship. This ideal relationship that I was dreaming up in my head led me to think of the qualities that I would find in my perfect match. Some qualities might be shallow or silly, but it's my fantasy man for a reason: I know he couldn't exist. So here goes: (In no particular order)
Emotional/Personality traits
-Passionate...whether it's a temper, a zest for life, or a music fanatic..just something that brings a spark to his eyes when he's thinking or doing whatever he's passionate about
-A great sense of humor....I mean, what makes a great sense of humor? What's the definition of a good sense of humor? I don't know the answer to that, so my ideal man would have a similar sense of humor to my own, meaning that he could laugh at himself, laugh at fart and dick jokes, and see the humor in horrible situations.
-Honesty...He has to be honest to himself and honest to me. There's been a lot of dishonesty and betrayal in my life, and I've learned to guard myself accordingly. Perhaps I'm jaded or perhaps it's just a self-preservation tactic, all I know is that my ideal man would be honest. I'm not talking about he can't tell me a little white lie now and again, (Honey, you look AMAZING in that pink spandex bodysuit...) but overall honesty.
-Intelligence...One of my favorite things to do is have long, philosophical-what-does-it-all-mean conversations. If a guy can't keep up with the musings of my liberal arts educated brains, then I lose interest rather quickly
-Faith...I don't mean he has to be a religious nut (Remember, God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts) but I would like to hope the person that I spend my mortal life with has some faith in an afterlife. What's the point of living if it all ends in mortal death?
-Sexuality...I can't/couldn't be with a guy who has a sex-is-icky mentality. I believe that sex can make or break some relationships, and that may sound superficial, but it's the truth. I won't make qualifications on this like if he suddenly becomes a paraplegic and can't have sex, what would I do then? etc, etc. It is what it is.
-Compassion...My ideal guy would understand that sometimes I'm going to be the biggest cunt in the world when I'm over-exaggerating and feel like everything in my life is going to hell in a hand basket. He won't kick puppies or be judgmental. He'll be accepting. He'll be loving, and kind, and sweet.
-Curious...I like a man who never stops, thinking, researching, finding.
Physical
Here's where it'll get superficial, but it's MY fantasy, dammit.
-Irish accent...Yeah, you read that correctly. I love Irish accents, they're fucking hot. I want an Irishman who ends all of his flirtations with "darlin'" or "love."
-Thick, dark hair....it's so hot to me when a guy is going down on me and I can pull on his hair and run my fingers through it...mmmm.
-Bright eyes...not any particular color, but they just have a sparkle in them, a fleck of color that catches me when I see him.
-Height...mostly just taller than me, which isn't a whole lot of height. Anything taller than 5'10, but of course, on the flip side, shorter than 6'10. haha
-Muscular....Six pack abs are not necessary. Actually, the only part of the body that I love on a guy to be muscular are his arms and back. It makes me think of Mr. Temper....insert twitch of pussy here...
-Tattooed...I have an odd fascination with tattooed men....again, thinking of Mr. Temper. Maybe it's because he went though a certain amount of physical pain to get them? I'm not sure. I just know that it makes me wet to see a guy with a muscular back decorated with a tattoo.
-Big hands...to run over my body, to comfort me when I need it, to work around the house with.
-Should I mention his dick here? Maybe that would be crossing the line..........
-Athletic....I like to be outside, I like to play basketball, volleyball, even play catch. I also like to fish and camp...all of which need some amount of athleticism.
-Last, but certainly not least, an ass that looks amazing in a pair of tight Wranglers. Think Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise...mmmm baby.
Odds and Ends...little quirks that I find attractive
-knows how to handle things around the house. Maybe this is because I see my dad fix everything around the house, but I always thought my dream man would be able to fix a running toilet, or fix a leak in the roof.
-Playfulness...whether it's tickle fights in bed on Sunday morning or smacking my ass during sex, playfulness keeps a person and a relationship fresh.
-Eclectic...in his music, art, movie, whatever. I like a lot of variety in my life
-Can cook.....seriously, a guy that can cook is hot, just because I love to cook, so doing this activity with my man is always fun and has led to some great memories.
-Wants a bazillion kids...I'm the type of girl that feels the need to make babies and lots of them. Damn overpopulation. Maybe it's because I have a big family and want my kids to be able to rely on their siblings, cousins, parents, aunts, and uncles like I can.
Well, I've about run out of ideas or thoughts. It was actually a lot more difficult to write it all down then just let the thoughts run randomly through my head. Maybe now that it's written down, he'll appear tomorrow in my 10am class and it'll be love at first sight. Maybe I'm just a kid with a lot of fanciful dreams and not enough to occupy my mind. (Don't tell my teachers, please).
Emotional/Personality traits
-Passionate...whether it's a temper, a zest for life, or a music fanatic..just something that brings a spark to his eyes when he's thinking or doing whatever he's passionate about
-A great sense of humor....I mean, what makes a great sense of humor? What's the definition of a good sense of humor? I don't know the answer to that, so my ideal man would have a similar sense of humor to my own, meaning that he could laugh at himself, laugh at fart and dick jokes, and see the humor in horrible situations.
-Honesty...He has to be honest to himself and honest to me. There's been a lot of dishonesty and betrayal in my life, and I've learned to guard myself accordingly. Perhaps I'm jaded or perhaps it's just a self-preservation tactic, all I know is that my ideal man would be honest. I'm not talking about he can't tell me a little white lie now and again, (Honey, you look AMAZING in that pink spandex bodysuit...) but overall honesty.
-Intelligence...One of my favorite things to do is have long, philosophical-what-does-it-all-mean conversations. If a guy can't keep up with the musings of my liberal arts educated brains, then I lose interest rather quickly
-Faith...I don't mean he has to be a religious nut (Remember, God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts) but I would like to hope the person that I spend my mortal life with has some faith in an afterlife. What's the point of living if it all ends in mortal death?
-Sexuality...I can't/couldn't be with a guy who has a sex-is-icky mentality. I believe that sex can make or break some relationships, and that may sound superficial, but it's the truth. I won't make qualifications on this like if he suddenly becomes a paraplegic and can't have sex, what would I do then? etc, etc. It is what it is.
-Compassion...My ideal guy would understand that sometimes I'm going to be the biggest cunt in the world when I'm over-exaggerating and feel like everything in my life is going to hell in a hand basket. He won't kick puppies or be judgmental. He'll be accepting. He'll be loving, and kind, and sweet.
-Curious...I like a man who never stops, thinking, researching, finding.
Physical
Here's where it'll get superficial, but it's MY fantasy, dammit.
-Irish accent...Yeah, you read that correctly. I love Irish accents, they're fucking hot. I want an Irishman who ends all of his flirtations with "darlin'" or "love."
-Thick, dark hair....it's so hot to me when a guy is going down on me and I can pull on his hair and run my fingers through it...mmmm.
-Bright eyes...not any particular color, but they just have a sparkle in them, a fleck of color that catches me when I see him.
-Height...mostly just taller than me, which isn't a whole lot of height. Anything taller than 5'10, but of course, on the flip side, shorter than 6'10. haha
-Muscular....Six pack abs are not necessary. Actually, the only part of the body that I love on a guy to be muscular are his arms and back. It makes me think of Mr. Temper....insert twitch of pussy here...
-Tattooed...I have an odd fascination with tattooed men....again, thinking of Mr. Temper. Maybe it's because he went though a certain amount of physical pain to get them? I'm not sure. I just know that it makes me wet to see a guy with a muscular back decorated with a tattoo.
-Big hands...to run over my body, to comfort me when I need it, to work around the house with.
-Should I mention his dick here? Maybe that would be crossing the line..........
-Athletic....I like to be outside, I like to play basketball, volleyball, even play catch. I also like to fish and camp...all of which need some amount of athleticism.
-Last, but certainly not least, an ass that looks amazing in a pair of tight Wranglers. Think Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise...mmmm baby.
Odds and Ends...little quirks that I find attractive
-knows how to handle things around the house. Maybe this is because I see my dad fix everything around the house, but I always thought my dream man would be able to fix a running toilet, or fix a leak in the roof.
-Playfulness...whether it's tickle fights in bed on Sunday morning or smacking my ass during sex, playfulness keeps a person and a relationship fresh.
-Eclectic...in his music, art, movie, whatever. I like a lot of variety in my life
-Can cook.....seriously, a guy that can cook is hot, just because I love to cook, so doing this activity with my man is always fun and has led to some great memories.
-Wants a bazillion kids...I'm the type of girl that feels the need to make babies and lots of them. Damn overpopulation. Maybe it's because I have a big family and want my kids to be able to rely on their siblings, cousins, parents, aunts, and uncles like I can.
Well, I've about run out of ideas or thoughts. It was actually a lot more difficult to write it all down then just let the thoughts run randomly through my head. Maybe now that it's written down, he'll appear tomorrow in my 10am class and it'll be love at first sight. Maybe I'm just a kid with a lot of fanciful dreams and not enough to occupy my mind. (Don't tell my teachers, please).
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