The Big Ugly Blog is an honest and uncensored collection of anecdotes recounting the madcap shenanigans of a perpetually 39 year old divorcee, as she wades through the mire of the murky online dating pool - ravenously searching (evidently in vain) for the man of her dreams...Keep On Dreaming, Baby!


Friday, January 9, 2009

Was it National Enormous Erection Week, and Someone Forgot to Tell Me??

Good lord! There is so much going on right now...I hope I remember to tell you EVERYTHING...My cell phone's picture text inbox is brimming with an impressive collection of almost freakishly remarkable specimens. Now just hold your horses, I'll get to that in a minute!...

So, the other night, (Wednesday or Thursday, I think) somewhere in the aftermath of successfully "willing" Rich to contact me, a new man popped into the fray. I'm gonna call him Big D (snicker). Big D quickly proved to be just about the polar opposite of subdued Mr. Cynical. He's a professional, with a real career, he's frisky and terribly fresh and energetic and if the pictures that he promptly sent to me are a true representation, he is more than amply endowed, sweet jesus! There was this one photo in which his gargantuan schlong looked almost too heavy for him to clutch much longer, you could see the tension in his wrist as he struggled to tote what appeared to be another leg. Anyway, at some point during that dizzying, crazy-busy night, I was simultaneously IM-ing both Mr. Cynical and Big D, and it was fascinating to me how dissimilar the two conversations were. I had to totally shift mental gears each time I typed back and forth to the two of them. I thought my feeble brain might completely short out after awhile, it was quite a panic trying to keep everything straight. See, when Mr. Cynical and I chat, there is always this sort of esoteric undertone and he restrains himself from making brazenly lewd overtures (unless it's really late and he's been drinking, but then that's to be expected, right?) He's mostly very polite and only interested in intelligent, thought-provoking subject matter. Big D, on the other hand, within minutes of introducing himself, got right to the meat of why he had contacted me. He thought I was "smokin'" and he wanted sex, plain and simple and he wanted it kinky. He said that he wanted my mouth on his cock before we ever kissed...awwwww, honey - that's so sweet! He also made it very clear that he was not the least bit interested in pursuing any sort of "real" relationship. He said that he had recently broken up with his long term girlfriend and just wanted to have some fun...understandable, I reckon. And I have to admit, now that I have discovered that I am capable of engaging in casual sexual relations with a man, without the need to feel "attached" or the hair-trigger impulse to immediately run away...and of course, ALWAYS equipped with a handful of handy dandy condoms, I did begin to consider the notion of keeping two (possibly more?) fuck buddies on retainer, at one time...I'm being serious. But I'm also wondering - how many guys could I have regular sex with, I'm not talking about how many guys could I have random hook-ups with, but regular sex, before I cross over into utter slutdom? Does the "regular" part of the equation (hopefully) negate the sluttiness of it? Who knows...Maybe I've already crossed that slut line and I'm just trying to rationalize my behavior...Well, whatever...So anyhow, even though Big D was about as forward with me as any man has ever been, miraculously it did not turn me off, not at all. I liked that he had a good job (as a writer, drool) and was candid, and I was flattered that he thought I was so hot. He told me that he has never wanted to fuck someone he has never met in person before as badly as he wanted to fuck me. And he punctuated that comment by adding,"That was supposed to be a compliment btw, lol" But when I suggested that we try to arrange to meet the very next weekend (Mama was def. up for some adventure) he stammered a bit, saying that he needed to check with his editor. Check WHAT with his editor? Humph... Does he work ALL day AND night - Friday, Saturday and Sunday? Sounds like somebody might not be so single after all, or something - what do you think? And let me just add that I am writing this entry on Sunday and I am here to tell you that Big D has not tried to contact me, in any way, at all since the last time he force-fed his exaggerated horniness to me, this past Friday morning. Seems a bit suspicious to me. I'll be very curious to see if he IM's me from his office, bright and early Monday morning. I should definitely call bullshit if he does, dontcha think? Anyway, in an attempt to change the subject (smooth move) he proceeded to graphically describe for me what he considered would be an ideal first "date" for us which then transitioned into the long and detailed beginning of a story that he wrote and e-mailed to me later that night. I read it the next morning and I have to give the guy mad props for his undeniable aptitude for using mere words to take this girl to that special, happy place! I hadn't even gotten to the bottom of the page, yet before I could no longer stave off caving to my arousal. I'm not necessarily convinced that he is such a great writer but he's got one hell of a vivid imagination, I'll give him that. Next, wanting to show him up with my own writing skills as well as return the favor- I could not resist picking up where his story left off and taking it to a climactic conclusion. And, not surprisingly, I found myself turned on all over again while penning my own contribution to the collaboration. Big D loved it and agreed that my ending was better than the one that he had come up with, even though if my ending played out in real life, the way that I had described, we would both have ended up in jail. 'Tis indeed true...

After finishing up with Big D, I decided to breeze through the profiles of available men on my second favorite dating site before attempting to be somewhat productive (yeah right) and like most every other time I peruse it, I immediately found myself face to face with R_E_M30. I swear to god, if I could build a man from clay, he would be made in the precise image of R_E_M30. He has this face, it's gonna sound cheesy, but there is a Mona Lisa mysteriousness about his smile (or is that a non-smile?) and I eyeball that mouth of his - a lot. His lips are beautiful, the upper one is at least as thick as the bottom one and his mouth is not wide but it is inordinately tall(?) I have to come clean here, I have this silly habit of taking the mouse and following the perimeter of that incomparable kisser with the little arrow, repeatedly...(I'm such a loser) He also has a better version of what I consider to be the perfect nose, it's like I never knew a nose could even be that good, until I saw his. His eyes are cleverly hidden behind mirrored glasses, despite the way he taunts me (as well as all of his other admirers, I'm sure) by advertising in his "About Me" section that "The First Thing People Notice" about him guessed it - his eyes. His photo is a self-portrait taken on some stratosphere-scraping mountain peak. The outstretched arm aiming the camera at his impeccable visage, is not visible, but the cap of his shoulder, sheathed by a military issue, olive drab t-shirt is so pronounced, I just know he's cut. I have literally been obsessed with R_E_M30 since the first minute I spied him which was the very day I set up shop on that site, in late August. I wrote to him for the first time, the following day...he did not respond. And that is the real reason that I have never mentioned him to you guys, there has been absolutely no story to tell. The only thing I can say is this: I look at his profile from time to time so that I can do the stupid thing with the mouse and gush, in general, and recently I noticed that the last time he logged in to the site was Nov. 8. So...where the heck has he been? My stomach hurts when I consider the tragic possibility that he might've found his happiness with some...woman. But that morning after whackin' off twice to Big D's and my naughty story, I decided to play Nancy Drew and looked back at the notes that I have sent to him (only a few - but all unrecognized by him) and to my delight, I discovered that I had written him a note on Nov. 6. That means that the last time that he logged in was a couple of days after he received an e-mail from the dating site on which told him that he had mail from ME (cuz that's what they do) and it would've included the first few lines of my note (they do that too) So, doesn't it look like he went to the site specifically to read MY letter? And he hasn't been back since and I had not written to him again until...

Ok, so now it's a few months later and I'm thinking that he has flown the coop, completely, forever, but I'm still comforted by the fact that the last time that he bothered to visit that blessed site was to read something that I had sent to him. This is when I knew that I absolutely had to try and channel Schopenhauer again and attempt to shape my fate with the power of WILL...I enlarged R_E_M30's face to the biggest it could be which was pretty large, it nearly filled my whole computer screen. I stared into those mirrored glasses, and chanted over and over again, "Please write to me, please write to me, please write to me..." And then I said a bunch of other embarrassing, juvenile things and even kissed his mouth and nose, well...the computer monitor, really...That's a little scary, huh? (Why do I even admit to doing these things, I'll never know)...Anyway, I figured that I had to write to him again, and try to bait him into logging onto the site once more...diabolical, no? And I also made a pact with myself, that this time, if I still didn't hear back from him, I would hang up my schoolgirl crush on him, forever...I mean it. So, I wrote a letter and sent it and within one hour, he had stopped by the site. Now, don't you think that's weird? I was so excited, I could hardly stand it! I was certain that this time he would break his silence and stop being such a fucking pussy and talk to me. But, sadly...he remains mum. I have to let this one go, I know that. I simply cannot humiliate myself one more time.

So, Friday night rolls around and Mr. Cynical wants to know if I'm busy and I told him that even though it was my ex's weekend with the kids, I had Jordan staying the night with me because she was fox hunting near my house early in the morning, so I wouldn't be able to hang out. And then Saturday morning he asked what I was doing THAT night and I said I wasn't sure but that I thought I might be checking out a new pub in town, with a friend, which was only a slight fib. I really DID want to go to that place, but I was pretty sure that my friend wasn't actually available to join me that night. Taking into consideration the upswing of recent activity, I felt it might be prudent to keep that time slot open. And truth be told, I just wasn't really feelin' it for Mr. Cynical at that moment. Quite frankly, I was actually fine with doing absolutely nothing with anybody, including him. What is my problem, anyway? I can't even stay excited for more than 4 sessions with a fuck buddy, for fuck's sake?! Oh well, no sense in dwelling on it. I hopped into my desk chair, in front of my trusty ole Mac and scooted around from site to site. I don't know what the hell was going on, maybe a full moon or something, but it was like I had inadvertently stumbled upon a horn dog convention, I shit you not! First there was the guy who was so over the top, he was like Big D in triplicate! I call him Two Quarters and you'll see why a little later on. So, Two Quarters talked me into giving him my cell # so he could prove to me how gigundo his piece was, I guess he thought that might sway my decision to meet him or not. More than anything though, I really did just want to see if it was as prodigious as he had bragged it was. I already knew that I had no interest whatsoever, in ever meeting him, he was scarily concupiscent. The first photo he sent was ghastly. I'm pretty sure that I've never seen a dick as big as his before. No wait a minute...there was one in Richmond that was literally the size of a meatloaf, but I try to block that one out of my mind, (shudder) Anyway, as Two Quarters put it, his dick is 8.5 inches long and as big around as the cardboard center of a paper towel roll. That didn't actually sound all that huge to me, but to actually see it...for the love of GOD! Next he sent the mother of all of my erect cock pics.. It was an aerial view of his stiff johnson, out straight in front and on the top of the shaft, just behind the mushroom cap - he had resting, side by side - two quarters, and let me assure you, they were in no danger of falling off! Can any of you guys out there do that? I thought this was pretty impressive, but terrifying, nonetheless. He has texted me and tried to IM me like a thousand times since then, and I haven't responded, what would be the point? Enough is as good as a feast...

After or during my run-in with Two Quarters, sweet, young Propel Bottle (see older entry, "Back to the Drawing Board") said "Hello" for the first time since before Christmas and he had it in his head that that night (Saturday) was to be the night when he would finally come out to my studio and model for me, like we had discussed during every one of our prior conversations. I kinda dragged my feet on the whole thing, I definitely did not want to get mixed up with a 20 YEAR OLD COLLEGE STUDENT!!! But I was awfully curious about him, and that jumbo junk of his. Plus, since I was pretty sure that I didn't want to hang with Mr. Cynical, I may as well fill the void with...something, excuse me - someone. So I said, what the hell, and told him to get his ass on down the screet to my place.

The moment Propel Bottle got out of his car, I was certain that he was NOT the guy in his profile pic.. I'm not sure why I hadn't figured it out the time he cammed me, but whatever. He was shorter than the guy I had pictured and his shoulders and chest were not nearly the dimensions of the Adonnis in his profile photo, plus his hair wasn't as dark. But he had driven a whole hour and a half and out of common courtesy I felt like I had to go along with the plan. We sat at my kitchen counter and shot the shit. He didn't drink because he was driving (Ah ha! He wasn't planning on staying!) so I didn't drink either. It was somewhat disconcerting that his voice still cracked every once in awhile - evidence that he was STILL just a babe. Honestly? I was starting to feel like the quintessential cradle-robber, despite the fact that we managed to keep our chatter innocent. After awhile I asked Propel Bottle if he wanted to go over with me to my studio so I could fetch my art supplies, after all...he was there to model for me...right?

I gave him a quick tour of my studio, and then we came back to the house but before I bothered to set up all my art shit, I insisted that he come clean about his real reason for being there. He was utterly obsequious, assuring me that his only motive for wanting to be there, was so that I might sketch him. And I was like, "Well, all righty then"

He started off fully clad, sitting on the edge of my bed, petting the dogs and then worked his way down to just his boxer shorts, revealing a torso dramatically less honed than the one so proudly displayed on his profile. I was drawing him while he sat in a chair and I watched as he pitched a mighty pup tent in his undies. It was pretty adorable when he bashfully announced that he was getting hard...DUH! But I sloughed it off, like it was nothing and kept drawing like crazy. He then asked if I wanted him to get all the way nakey, and I said that it was fine with me, from an artistic standpoint...but ONLY, if he was cool with it! He dropped his drawers and there before me was the infamous Propel Bottle, in full, blooming color! And you know what? I was not the least bit turned on...honest injun. I kept a light, but professional attitude and doodled some cool sketches, but I knew it was inevitable that he would want to get laid. He tried to lay down on my bed, so I could draw him from a different angle but my dogs kept molesting him and finally we decided that he should maybe try reclining in my nice, warm bath, which he did. I have to say, I did probably my best drawing of the whole night, while he soaked in the was of his foot.

Ok, so when he got out of the tub, he asked if I wanted him to draw ME - translation - did I want to get naked? That is the point at which I felt that I had to end the madness, I simply could not deceive this innocent collegiate any further. There was absolutely no way that I could have plucked that little boy, virgin or no virgin, he was simply too, well...VIRGINAL! I told him that I am not typically an overly moral person, but there was something decidedly disturbing about the thought of playing with his hot salami. I mean, really...I am a mother of a son, and if I knew that some 39 (again) year old hag had preyed upon my own 20 year old son, I would hunt her ass down and snatch her baldheaded! He got my drift and sat on the edge of my bed again and said, "Well, I am gonna have to let one go here, pretty soon. Do you want me to do it in the bathroom, or right here? You can watch if you want" I was so confused, I thought he meant he had to fart or something, and then it clicked, and I said, "Oh! You mean you won't just eventually lose your wood?" and he said, "Huh uh, no way" So, he asked me to stay in the room with him and watch him finish, which I did. And I still was not the slightest bit turned on...I swear. It only took him like 20 seconds to cum. I was relieved. He showered, I apologized and thanked him and he left.

This is already a pretty long-winded episode, boys and girls...and I have barely even scratched the surface of all that has transpired in the last few days. Tell you what - why don't I sign off on this entry and begin yet another, fact-filled blow-by-blow account of the remainder, for your pleasure. Sound good? Oh, hell's bells, I almost forgot!...HAPPY NATIONAL ENORMOUS ERECTION WEEK!!!

No comments:

Post a Comment