Well, hi! It has been a while since I posted anything and my writing fingers were getting stressed. I have not had a peen in over a year and there are no viable prospects on the horizon.
I’m not sure I even care.
Oh, but wait. The cabana boy at the Vegas hotel where I stay often kind of hit on me on my last trip at the beginning of July. He was my cabana boy last year and he remembered me this year. He kept dropping by to say hi and to chat with me. Around 2:00 pm, he let me know he’d be leaving for the day. He was going to drive to Huntington Beach to watch the sunset. Then he outstretched his arms and asked for a hug. Um. I looked a mess. It was 106°F (41°C for my non-US peeps), and I was hot and sweaty in a bathing suit, but he didn’t seem to mind. I mentioned that it sounded nice and he said something like, “Give me your number and the next time you’re in town, let me know. I can get you a cabana discount through my boss and we can drive to Huntington Beach!”
See, before the advent of the cell phone, giving out a fake number was the best way out of an awkward number-asking-for situation, but when the dude is right there in front of you waiting to hear your phone chime with his text, that is not a viable option. I’d feel weird driving 4 hours each way with a fetus that I hardly know, but I would like the cabana discount. I acquiesced and he put my number into his phone. There you go. I am going back to Vegas at the end of August, but it is a very short trip, so there’s no way that we’re going on a road trip.
Also, my favorite sushi chef was a little bold on this last Vegas trip. We talked nearly the whole time. Movies were discussed and I told him that I never saw one that he really loved (Forrest Gump). He was shocked and said he’d have to tie me to a chair and make me watch it. Of course, neither one of us apparently has the balls to do anything about this. I do enjoy the flirtation, though – and the sushi – and it is unlikely that I’d ever do anything that might destroy my access to delicious sushi.
Oh, and? PG is now married to Orangina, per my spy, CP. Mazel tov and shit, PG. I thought I’d feel some sort of way about that, but I don’t think that I care. I’m indifferent, I suppose. He made his allegedly heterosexual bed, so he can lie in it. (“lie” is the key word there…) Anyhoo.
My friend Buffy has been ho-ing it up and I finally convinced her to write something up for my pervy blog readers. Buffy’s post is in blue and my responses will be in black.
When in doubt, suck a dick. (Wow…if I had a nickel for every time I said that…)
So apparently that is my new motto. (Not a bad motto! We’ll print up t-shirts and mugs.)
You may ask, “What has Buffy been up to?”
Well, I was sad and lonely because Ratatouille had to go back to the land of hockey, maple syrup, and free but questionable healthcare. Toes said it best: “It’s always hard to lose good dick”. She’s so sentimental. (I mean, yeah. I speak the truth.)
My other friend said, “Sexual soulmate, that’s a good find,” and he was right.
I sent Ratatouille a naughty picture (For future reference, Buffy, we need details! Pussy pic? Hiney? Just your cheeks or did the hole make an appearance? Bent over the kitchen table? Was anything in your holes?) and he replied with a picture of his hard-on (Again, DETAILS!) you could hang laundry from. (…from which one could hang one’s laundry…But wait. What the hell are you doing thinking about laundry when there’s a dick pic??) I was pining for him. (Sorry, my first thought is the Dead Parrot sketch by Monty Python. “PINING FOR THE FJORDS?!?!?!” Beautiful plumage.)
Apparently he missed me, too, because he drove 5 hours to meet me in a hotel. Fifi always travels with me, but I decided to get a dog sitter so we could make the most of our overnight stay. Sorry, Fifi, but mama needs some dick. I brewed my signature mint tea and packed up that car.
When I got there, I upgraded the room because he likes fancy bathrooms. (Yes, don’t we all??) I had stayed there before and knew the suite had an amazing marble shower. I was rewarded accordingly: he brought a backpack full of at least 49.5 shades of whatever the fuck I wanted. I had packed rope, nipple clamps, toys, lube, etc. We both laughed at our packing job because we only had 1 night together and we had each packed at least 7 fantasies. (Honeytoes’ extra tip: Be prepared. When one travels for a dick appointment, one should always carry extra goodies in one’s Ho War Bag. In mine I have lube, condoms, a butt plug, various dildos and vibrators, mints, edible candles, matches, and a few other things. I haven’t looked in my Ho War Bag in a while, so I’m sure there are some things in there that I have forgotten.)
I had planned to get 2 more tattoos while out of town, and he had a small delay at the border. Ratatouille met me at the tattoo parlor. It didn’t take long – I enjoyed the pain and then we left to go back to the hotel. We were walking and Ratatouille looked over at me and said, “Are you ok?” and I said, “Yes. Why – do I look weird?” He said, “Yes, you are a little pale”. (Yes, but, Buffy is always pale – just like me.)
He wanted to take me to dinner, but first he had a surprise back at the room. Buffy loves surprises. (Honeytoes hates surprises. HATES. THEM.) Ratatouille was worried about putting further stresses on my body after the tattoos, but I assured him I felt fine. (‘Atta girl! #ahogottabeaho)
He had brought a large stainless steel spade-shaped butt plug with a crystal on the end. (What color was the crystal? I have something similar that made a very “special” appearance in an old blog. #buttplugate2017 #neverforget) He wanted to put it in before dinner and I said yes. So he bent me over and applied some lube, then gently slid it in my oh-so-tight ass (I hadn’t seen him in 2 weeks). It felt amazing – the warm steel (he asked if I wanted it warm or cold) against my skin spreading me open and then slipping into place, I let out a little gasp. (I’m a cold butt plug gal myself.) We headed off to dinner, me getting wetter with every step. We ate at this German restaurant….oh, who gives a fuck, we ate food. (Ballsy move eating food – especially German food – before a fuckfest. I always try to fuck on an empty stomach.)
We came back to the room and took a hot shower. (Nope. There’s no way I’m going to spend all that time getting my hair did and my face beat to have the possibility of getting it all messed up in the shower. No way.) We love to soap every inch of each other’s bodies. He started smacking my ass in the shower – hard and harder. I was getting so wet and begging to cum. We got out of the shower and the adrenaline wore off and I started shaking. He put me under the covers and held me until I warmed up and he said that the touch of shock had subsided.
Ratatouille proceeded to caress me, biting my nipples and then went down south for some dessert. Fuck. I came so hard. I had missed him and his glorious Canadian hockey stick. I took him in my mouth while he pulled my hair, and gently grabbed the back of my neck. I choked on him as he pulled me closer and he said, “Again, please”. When he was good and hard, he straddled me and I put my legs on top of his shoulders so he could go deep. He fucked hard and came hard, saying my name. We both passed out for the night. (Ugh….NO WAY do I want to fuck someone and then sleep next to them. Ew. No. Just. NO. I am not able to sleep with anyone next to me other than a cat.)
In the morning he had more surprises for me. He asked me if I had brought any heels, and of course I did. “Good girl,” he said. Ratatouille had brought a scarf to tie my hands above my head and put the knot through the closed door. He asked me which one I wanted: the silver butt plug or something else (which I can’t remember for some reason). I pointed to the silver one with my nose. Again, the lube, the warm sensation, gasp. He got out his belt and told me the rules. Say more, if I wanted it the same intensity or harder if I wanted that. Stop if it was too much.
We played the game for a while and I was getting very wet. He was getting very hard. Then he took out the butt plug, which felt as good as it did going in. We went into the bathroom and I knelt down on a white towel with my arms stretched in front of me.
I gave him my ass freely (WHORE!) and he loved it. I dirty talked and told him how big he feels in my ass which always sends him over the edge. (Boys are so easy, eh?) He let out a loud “FUCK!” and I knew it was really good for him.
We fell back into bed and he started touching me. I was getting close, but I had to take the wheel.
I love giving him the keys to my castle, but I had to take them back again since we would be separating and I didn’t know when I would see him again. He loved it that I pushed myself over the edge while he played with my nipples. So that was the last time I saw him, several weeks ago. We Skyped a couple times and did Skype sex but it just wasn’t the same. Meh. (Meh indeed.)
Meanwhile, I sucked a dick in a vineyard (when in doubt, suck a dick), had sex with pretty boy 8 years my junior who then ghosted me (fucking youngsters), and had a late night heavy make out session with Captain Marvel who I might just be in love with… (So, Captain Marvel is the firefighter, I think. It might also be the same guy who took Buffy and Fifi for a motorcycle ride. Oh, who the fuck knows…? I’m getting all her peens confused.)
There you have it, dear readers! While my vagina has practically fused itself shut over the past year, at least we have Buffy to provide us with some salacious updates.
…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife