I am not obsessed

I can't help staring at it sometimes. And why should I try? It's staring at me. Asking to be stared at. Asking to be lovingly gazed into, held gently, gone over with gently questing fingers and an open mind. I flip it over and admire the dimensions. Not bad from the back, but always, always the hottest view in front. My breath catches and I know I'm ready to explore it's secrets with the slow careful observation of the student breathlessly wanting to know the key to the ultimate satisfaction from the master.

But, I wait.

I wasn't going to succumb to this indulgence. I had, in fact, found another use for my time and money, but curiosity and this incessant need to possess the elusive, to lose myself in the beauty of one deliciously offered gift led me there. Outside the protection of the brick walls into a violent storm. Into the store. At the back, staring, searching, throwing the trivial wannabes aside as I searched for the only one that could give me what I needed.

I sensed another nearby on the same quest, but I pretended not to notice there could be someone else between us. Finally, after it seemed my search would be fruitless, I found the one remaining treasure that would serve to make me feel complete, satiated. For now.

I brought it home and stashed it away at first. Why give into temptation immediately when the suspense makes it all the more tantalizing? That first taste is always sweeter after certain sacrifice is made. But then, I couldn't just leave it alone. I pulled it out, caressed the outside and began to dream of devouring the treasure within in great cloying gulps, taking my fill until I no longer knew any but the world contained therein.

I opened my treasure and teased my fingers through it's delicate folds. Somehow, it felt warm to the touch, inviting my eyes to feast on what I'd been denying myself for so long. I became overwhelmed with emotion, with the knowledge that once I began this journey I would not be able to rest until I had taken in every part of worth and acknowledged that, yes, I am worthy of such riches. I deserve to indulge. I have gone without for so long that the smallest reward is not only my due, but my privilege.

With this in mind, I put it away again and contented myself to draw out the torture into the wee hours.

Some time later, I found myself with camera in hand, drawing my fingers along the beautiful curvature, trying to reconcile what I knew to be the delights within with the now taunting surface that stared back at me through the lens. I wanted it so badly now I could taste it. But again, I waited, content to study my subject from a distance before making that last leap into blissful oblivion.

So here I sit, practically breathless in anticipation, fingers twitching as I type, smiling as I remind myself what awaits me in bed tonight - a sweet surrender to my weakness, my inspiration, my long-denied passion.

I will be satisfied.

__________________

Long story short, I bought the LAST copy of Esquire I saw in the drug store. Good thing I looked behind all those other skanky mags, because I didn't see it for 10 minutes and I was about to say something not-nice to the management. In case you can't tell, I am SO looking forward to reading The Gingerbread Girl by Stephen King, exclusive to July's issue of Esquire. My favorite writer, a new short story AND I snagged the last copy. Fate loves me. Or knew I needed a boost. Oh, and the hot pics of Angelina and the writeup on her inside weren't exactly turnoffs either.

Antibacterial Soap, Extra Tools and Gear Shifts

This posting is courtesy of The Blushing Ladies. Namely, the blushing lady Gracie who asked readers to answer these queries:

When's the last time you flirted with a stranger?

Did they blush? Did you?

How did you feel?

Did you do anything about it ~ masturbation, taking that heat to your partner counts!

When's the last time I flirted with a stranger?

I don't suppose flirting with Prince William (in my head) when he broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago counts. Ah, well. He did almost propose to me. Unfortunately, I told him I couldn't handle that not-quite-sunny London weather (or the effort I'd have to put into ignoring his father's ears at tea) and I declined his imaginary proposal (for now). Perhaps if we could talk about moving to the Bahamas during winter? I'll bring it up with him next time.

I fear my answers to these questions might be less than interesting. The last time I flirted with a total stranger was last winterish. I had just moved to a new city to look for work and was constantly having things delivered. A lack of transporation has it's drawbacks. Well, now that I think about it, having no car is the reason for this story. The UPS guy for my apartment complex made more stops at my place in 3 months than my roommate. (My first time out of the parent's house! I needed sheets and everything.)

I didn't move with anything practical (like a space heater for that 20 degree temperature difference from the city I'd moved from) and was constantly waiting on Target, Best Buy and J.C. Penney to make my room feel less like a box storage space and more like a bedroom. I can't remember if the first time I flirted with the UPS guy was when he was delivering my deluxe-sized neck cushion pillow thingie or my TV/VCR/DVD. Probably the TV. I distinctly remember batting my lashes so he would bring it all the way into my bedroom instead of leaving it outside in the 40-something weather or just inside the front door. And that nice man did it! I actually have feminine wiles somewhere. Maybe.

Did either of us blush?

Nah, but I think I offered him a cookie or something. I was always swiping them from the apartment manager's office. I know. So romantic. Me blush? Nah. I think my flirting with him was more about my laziness than anything else at that point. By the time I actually started finding him attractive, I blushed before I could even say hello. LOL I'm horrible about that. It's easy for me to flirt with someone I don't find attractive (especially if I want something), but I lose all confidence with someone I really like and want to impress.

How did I feel?

Helpless, as I always feel with men. It's so weird. I was getting hit on left and right by men I didn't want to talk to, but the one I was starting to like I couldn't get up the nerve to ask out. Youth and innocence are a disadvantage for me. I need more practical experience at this game.

Did I do anything about it?

I got lots of things delivered and smiled a lot when I signed for them. Oh. Not what you wanted to know? I dragged him into my lair by the front of those khaki slacks and we had mad hot monkey sex on top of my roommate's raggedy dining room table (after moving aside the assorted cat toys, unpaid bills and, of course, the damn cats. yes cats PLURAL. I hated my roommate's cats. sorry, that's another entry, isn't it?) until he screamed for mercy. I probably shouldn't have tried to bend his leg like that, but it seemed like a damn good idea at the time.

What? You know I'm lying? Well, I never!

Oh. Wait. I did say in a previous entry that I've been celibate for a while, didn't I? Yeah. That. Oh, well that does kind of give me away, doesn't it? I never did anything useful like ask him out. I think I was building up to it. Course, not finding a job and moving someplace rent free kind of got in the way, but he was nice to strike up a conversation with when I just happened to be walking around outside during his usual delivery time to my apartment complex. Oh, don't give me that look. It was totally a coincidence! Really!

Forgive me, I am so repressed. This being picky about sex partners thing has it's drawbacks and one of them is reminiscing way too much about things that could've been. The good thing is that I have an outlet. I wrote "Special Delivery", a short story about a woman who gets up close and very personal with the hot delivery man. I swear it's a work of fiction, but I almost wish it wasn't. Now Gracie, look what you've gone and done! I'm going to have to finish these M&Ms now and open my copy of Esquire to stare at these pics of Angelina (and will her to eat a sandwich).

*sigh*

Anyone up for a weekend drive upstate to check on a UPS delivery?