Saturday, April 22, 2017

Got hit again

At the supermarket checkout, I noticed a middle-aged woman in a skin-tight outfit. It was 3-quarter pants and 3-quarter sleeves where you hardly notice when the sleeve ends and the skin starts. I carefully observed that her line was the shortest before I joined her.

I moved around too much and I'm automatically sensitive to these things. The local population is quite cosmopolitan and I'm often being noticed in a good way. But the problem is when somebody recently relocated here from nowhere. It was coincident that I followed her out of the checkout and into the customer service area. She was a young wife wearing something comfortable but you couldn't say tight, short or revealing. She was just uncomfortable when I was standing behind her in the line. If it wouldn't look more awkward I would have stood a few more feet behind her. It was difficult to show that you are uncomfortable with the man standing behind you but she did. Finally, when I got to the counter the agent reduced my pain by joking that the color of my stuff that required special internet order was worth the wait. I proudly showed off my internet order leaving the store.

She was probably in her 40's with little makeup on, probably coming straight from the yoga / slimming joint a few doors away. But her body is really something considering her age. Of course, the tightness help but her butt and breasts looked so good. Not only that, you know 3-quarter anything was so hard to wear when you don't have a model body.  She doesn't but she looks good on it. I would hit it given the chance.

Maybe she noticed that I looked impatient checking the line length of the other checkouts constantly. I just didn't want to check out her butt all the time. She noticed that a new checkout was opened and told me helpfully. Why would she notice anything about me at her back? Why would she bother?

Maybe it was my colorless gray sagging pants. It was a nightmare to keep it on my waist all the time but it was worth it for my legs looking great. Maybe it was my well worn blue T-shirt that needed the whole factory to stitch the very few visible seams. Of course, my sagging breasts and beer belly weren't visible in any way. Maybe it was my voluminous long stylish hair that many alpha males cut themselves. I think my little salt and pepper looks good but maybe it was my Clark Kent glasses that made me look like a college freshman or single father getting lost in the supermarket.

She cared enough to start a conversation but I was never good at it. More, if I had an hour to spare I would have booked something. You know what I mean!

I took each fire alarm down, in turn, to listen to the one that gave out the low battery scream. I could have replaced the old 9V battery but then I found out that the alarm was 10 years old. So it was made about the time when I went to Argentine. I only remembered that they were cheaper single sensor types because I was saving money for the non-critical areas; I have different types of alarms.

For about the same money I ordered two new ones with dual sensors that use rechargeable AA batteries. Fire alarms are supposed to be replaced every 10 years. I could try those with 10-year batteries but I don't trust them much. Maybe next time. Looking forward to the next 10.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Where are they now?

Over the years I have some acquaintances in the blogging community. I stopped checking on them years ago partly because I don't want to find out that more blogs becoming graveyards. Partly because Facebook killed RSS and to some extend blogging.

For the same reason, I deleted my blog roll many years ago; it would be counterproductive if it contained lots of deserted blogs. And since Google killed Reader, I didn't have the records to visit my dear old acquaintances. But I still have a list in Blogger that contains blogs in Blogger only.

It's not surprising that many bloggers had stopped. I myself could have stopped many times and still may stop all of a sudden. The most active blogger seems to be blogging her totally new live for as long as I can remember. It's hard warming to see that some book authors are still blogging.

In this business, the opposite sex always tries to take advantage of each other. This is a very individual game so it's hard to agree how to best play it and form fan clubs. It's not easy to "friend" each other and follow each other closely. That's why I still like this Blogger format.

This is my own private corner of the Internet. In five years you may wonder what happened to this guy and you can come back to visit. You may catch up on my new adventures or it might become as dead as my own shrine until Google decides to kill old blogs.

There's no easy way to follow me. Google Reader replacements are either too simple or too complicated or too expensive (not free). So I linked this blog with Google+ to make it possible to follow. But we have to use Google+. RSS is about cooperation but FB got powerful enough to kill it. Google agrees that RSS is dead and didn't even fight. I wonder does AdWord makes any money at all?

Instead of wondering where are you guys now I will tell you where have I been. The publishing of the Argentina trip was supposed to be the start of my memoir. Should I say it was time to hang up the condoms? I remember very well that I got Emma's call in the first few days checking on me. It happened that I was on a compatible network but I didn't pay for international roaming. I could see her number but couldn't answer.

Before that I wrote a lot of things all over;  they are of course as "popular" as this blog :-( For a memoir I wanted people to read so I took some effort on the readability and the topics. If you find that unreadable and uninteresting, you can imagine what my other writings were. Even when I wasn't doing it, I still enjoying writing about it.

Over time, it's less about keeping friends and readers but more about myself and my past relationships, particularly Chanel. You need inspiration and motivation to keep writing. Incidentally, I was invited to write a textbook very early on in my career. The typesetting tech wasn't there yet and it would be a nightmare. More important, I have to keep my Professor for the heavy grammar editing I needed and hence his whole group will all be authors in my book. I could do it all by myself but it would take years and I had no clue how those publishers work. At the time I was worrying where my next meal comes from and how to get a real paycheck.

I regretted turning it down by not replying. It's so much worthwhile if only to put it on the bookshelf to remind Mrs Player that I'm not a fake and I'm a big deal to somebody.

Of course, if money and time allow and when the opportunity arises I will do it all over in a heartbeat. That's what I did and always enjoy writing all about it. And since my old readers and new readers will be few and far between, I naturally let my guards down and revealed more of my individuality. I apologize for your lost inside my own soul searching.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Looking back

You just can't avoid looking back when you always tell yourself to move on. Every year there is the dreaded tax return. You just can't forget about the good years especially the bad years. Worse, with software expert systems, your list of returns aren't hidden somewhere at the corner of the garage.  Hitting the wrong button and the list are right in front of you.

Sometimes it's the number that hit you, for example, 1999. Other times, it's the pattern. For several years in a row, the returns were well engineered online mostly with hefty refunds. Other times, they were done on the PC because the online servers were long closed for the tax year. Because two or more years of returns may be done at the same time, it's not easy to switch back to the online version even though the latest tax year was current.

I was in a good mood today because, for the 1st time in several years, all my tax return were current, including the payments. I'm also in a mixed mood because I'm not so sure about my prior tax years.

Anyway, let's look back at something interesting. Now it's much easier to find your dream girl than a decade ago. They are also more affordable because of competition. I would say the price is the same; you wish it were true for real estates.

Now that I am not prepared to keep regulars I ventured to see the hot VIP model I failed to book several times. But I am more interested to see cute teeny girls like Chanel II torturing themselves riding on me. And when they think it's over, I carried on the torture on top or at their back.

Everything I saw and heard about Vipe is true, and better. At 5'10 barefoot, she is a model material with properly enhanced boobs and possibly bottom. A slender figure with nice limbs and long legs. She is pretty without much makeup. The better part is that at first glance she looks more like a cute teen than a full blown model.

If she sounds perfect, she is. I can think of few girls with such a perfect body but they are not as pretty or not as cute. I can't recall anybody with those pair of long legs. But even if I can remember, I bet no one has her perfect butt, waist and legs combination.

What she does is amazing. She would take off her heels to start a lap dance. With my limited strip club experience, she is one of those strippers who would cause a riot when she comes out of stage for the 1st time. That lap dance alone worth her VIP price.

She satisfied my leg fetish wet in the shower and then dry on the bed. The same went for my butt, feet and toes fetish. She has a habit of sucking my index finger so I returned the favor and then some.

She kisses and with tongue but there wasn't any earth moving. Sometimes it happened for the 1st DFK. More often it is the 2nd. Other times it never happened unless you went all the way for number 43.

She is very generous with her blowjob. I wasn't prepared much and I felt vulnerable. I had to stop her until I knew she knew how to handle the sensitive me.

Since I first saw her, I was aiming for a one-legged bend over finish but I couldn't find anything of suitable height in her room. Maybe next time I'll ask her out in the living room.

Monday, April 17, 2017

Aluminum Anniversary

Looking back at my blog, I published the down under journey to Argentina in the summer of 2007! Since then, I haven't one day without hits from that Gawker story, even now that the site is dead as a gravestone.

It's not yet summer but I it was summer when I was in Buenos Aires. It was December 2006. So, with some compromises on each end, I declare that the Aluminum Anniversary is upon us.

What inspired me is Buffy's Anniversary. I don't share much with her but she must be having a great time on hers, looking backward and forward, but mostly backward. I do have a little story about us, The Player vs Buffy, but it would be for another day.

I'm happy to say I'm still fully functional in 2017, lol. Just the last weekend, after I dropped off my kids for their extracurricular activities, I had a little extracurricular thing for myself. Before picking them up, I went to see a hot model for the 3rd time. But she was fully prebooked.

Surprisingly, my 3rd choice turned out to be schoolgirl material that I wasn't looking for. She is all natural, thin with delicate curves that I liked. But her lack of makeover on her face made her look a lot older than her body at over 30 years old.

Very likely I was her first of the day. She proceeded very carefully after she saw my full erection. At first she was showing off her oral skills. Then she must be enjoying it very much. Later, she must be trying to get me to the edge so as to lighten the workload on her pussy. But after a while, I had the feeling that I was invincible. I let her mouth loose to do whatever she wanted when I remained tough like a steel rod, enjoying every moment of it.

She could have sucked me for the whole hour but realistically she had to let me in. Very carefully, she got on the saddle like a cowgirl. She was warming up slowly and gradually. Then she rode faster and harder. But I wasn't worried. I arched my back a bit so my steel rod was fully inside her.

Once she was warmed up the anxiety on her face evaporated. I could do pretty much any position I wanted. Maybe it was tough after all when you have to be repeated stabbed by a steel rod. We somehow ended up in a reverse missionary. It couldn't be my idea. In addition, she was starting to charge like me when I was on top. I knew time was about up.  Usually, she could finish me this way but not that day. I got back on top that did the job.

It could have been an explosive finish but I ran out of ammunition. After I pre-booked, I must have been cleaned up myself thoroughly and I was oozing with sexuality. The next morning when I put my hands near Mrs. Player's sensitive areas, she didn't resist at all. It was once a blue moon phenomenon so I proceeded to take off all her clothes and fucked her good.

I did think of being silly to have sex with her before the session with an escort. But I took the risk that the 1st round would help the 2nd round. It did beautifully but my cock itself should deserve most of the credit. With Chanel it's different. I would have avoided any sex for the week if I booked her. But usually it was Mrs. Player who wanted sex and it would be very suspicious and disastrous to turn her down.

Tuesday, March 07, 2017

Things to Do in Buenos Aires Without Your Wife



This is the article in Gawker that made me famous, relatively speaking, now reproduced in its entirety. RIP.


Monday, March 06, 2017

The Player vs the Biker

While we were walking into the motel room, a biker caught up with us and demanded, "I want to have a threesome."

Now you can imagine how hot my girls are. Do you remember the time when I brought the 19-year-old Rapunzel with ass length straight blond hair into a roadside convenient store buying condoms and asking for the direction to the nearest motel? The teen boy storekeeper looked at me like I was a god. This girl was her friend. Instead of Disney hot, she was biker hot.

She had a teen skinny body and she could paint herself into a Princess with the box she carried. I didn't like her much because she always pretended to be low mileage high maintenance when I knew she was the opposite. But she was a good fuck. I got wild when I got her tiny teen body under me missionarily, pumping her pussy and sucking her mouth non-stop. When I took my breath she asked, "Are you done yet?"

The phrase could destroy any erection but I'm the Player. What do you expect? I got even wilder and we mated like a pair of dolphins. I was on top and didn't need any help. She could be hiding her pleasure when she turned her face away, refusing to let me suck her. But I wasn't offended and praised, "You are sooo tiny!". She made me feel like I didn't pay her enough for what I did or the pleasure I had. With her, I always felt I was the mark. If I ever got hooked on her she would cost me dearly one way or the other.

I always wanted her to be Princess Nasty. She got the body and the face. If only she could blow me bare, unload completely in her mouth, spit out or swallow. That would be priceless at the time.

Being the Player, I calmly gave the biker a firm no immediately, even though he looked the part with all the right gears; even though I might have seen his bike outside of their room ten yards away. Yes, it is "they"; he was not alone.

The biker turned his attention to my girl, thinking that she might be street wiser. But the answer was the same. She treated him as if he's a nuisance and crazy and shut the door undramatically. I never thought about it ever since the door was closed until I binge watched the Son of Anarchy.

The motel did have a little inland California feel because many girls hanged out a bit away from the coast when they are not working; the rent is cheaper.

Honestly, the biker wasn't threatening. He was more fat rather than big. He seemed to be more like begging than demanding. And he knew he sounded crazy when he asked. Above all, I didn't know anything about the biker culture. Only until a couple of years ago, I don't know that they are capable of a shooting war between over a hundred people.

I could tell by his face he was sex craved, needing to jerk off immediately like any men. I am sure I would look the same when the right porn moment hit me. His stimulation would be my hot girl walking into the motel room with me, obviously going to have sex the moment when the door close, in a hot desert afternoon. That was why he looked silly instead of threatening.

I was drawn to the series but I am not planning to watch more than a season or two. It would be different if I live in a more rural area closer to the settings.

I was impressed when the doctor came back to her hometown to hide from her stalker, only to be protected by the biker and his arch enemy the deputy sheriff. They all went to the same high school. The gangster mom held fundraising events for the school, just like for any other school in the land, long after her kids left.

And when the undertaker agreed to help to supply two dead bodies, instead of money he wanted the girl he had a crush on since high school. And the biker delivered.

I went to the neighborhood school for a brief time, about a year for elementary school. It was similar to schools with just a number, or just the street name. But actually, I was quite happy there. The good students knew that I was transferred from an expensive private school. Having a business over there, others might know that my dad had to handle the underworld and survived.

It was totally different for high school. Students were from all over so there was no local attachment anywhere outside the school. All the memories left of the place were that of looking for affordable restaurants with least terrible lunches.

I was treated like royalty in elementary school without knowing it. The gangs would leave me alone. When I wanted to play wrestling at recess, they would let me jump the line, roughing me up enough but not hurting me at all even though I was a lot smaller than the other guy.

Even though everybody lived nearby, there was zero chance of meeting others outside school because of the population density. But since I lived there long after elementary school, I remembered I saw a guy who must have been initiated into a gang, selling snacks on the street. He didn't remember me or he pretended not to. I saw a girl selling vegetables in the local farmers' market. She must have remembered me because she went to hide and sent somebody to take her place. I pretended not to have spotted her to save her the embarrassment. I could imagine that over the years, many old classmates would have seen me, remembered me but wouldn't bother to greet me as I must have gone on to do great things while they barely hung on.

I might do the same if I spotted my old high school friends that were successful. But then we knew each other for at least half a decade and that we had a happy childhood. Indeed I met a friend on the underground. He just returned after university from abroad and got a high paying finance job. We were never close but I was still having his books at home that he asked me to sell before he left!

The fact was, we didn't have anything to say! I am always a man of few words. We didn't do much together. I was down but not out while he must be having his great moments. He was always the underdog in high school but now he turned the table. I didn't think he was rude to me nor he was trying to ignore me. I was always humble and nice to everybody and popular. I thought he was used to old "friends" trying to reconnect with him now that he was successful. And that he found no use for them anymore and ignored them for a change. I would think I was different; we just have nothing to say and he had a lot in his mind.

Indeed, all of the high school was supposed to go on to great things, even for the average underdog. But I didn't see myself sitting down in a clinic to see miserable patients all day long. If only I thought about the money and the women. The fact was if you tried to buy an umbrella near the school, the craftsman having spotted your broken one would insist on repairing it for you on the spot, free of charge.

I didn't know if my dad was short of money, sending me to the neighborhood elementary school. Or he knew that there was affirmative action for public school kids or a bit of both. He found the excuse to send me out of private school. Of course, I graduated top of the class for once in my life, probably setting the record for the highest achievement ever since at the school. But no one believed when I told them my ordinary scores while getting into the public high school that no money can buy.

But I wasn't doing too badly myself. I drove dad on cross country road trips in brand new luxury cars and SUVs, across the channel, and across the desert, along famous roads, highways, and streets that the average tourist can never dream of such local experience. In hindsight, dad would have been happier sightseeing cities and monuments that he had heard of. But I know he was happy enough and couldn't stop talking about it. My cousins told me that how happy he had been in his last years.

I am a bit surprised by so many familiar faces in the series. Can you believe it, "married with children"? Come back after so many years?

If they wrote in a hot biker girl permanently I might watch all the seasons. I am also happy to turn on the TV on schedule. But with the whole Netflix to choose from, I'll pass for now.



Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Burn Notice

After discovering my private porn star, I have been picky about calling anybody. Jade satisfies me in many ways without hesitation and I can video everything if I want to. I saved myself plenty of time.

Cutting my cords for so long, having extra time at hand, I indulged in binge watching for the first time. Immediately, I searched for the series that I missed when I cut the cords - Chuck of Buymore. Even though the series wasn't a big hit with many seasons, it was not included in Netflix or Amazon. It's not a good start when you have to pay for binge watching.

As I have said before, I'm very much into believable spy dramas. I enjoy dramas with multiple personalities, and the real life personality can be confused with the professional ones. The next one I thought of was Burn Notice, whose name I couldn't even recall. When I cut my cords, I was impressed by BN, being the McGyver of the spy world.
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I still remember I had some torrents of the series, and the only series. That was some years after I cut my cord. That was too much hassle and I was off TV altogether.

It was well written and credible. When you have to explain what you do when you are doing it, you can't keep churning out rubbish. Even though I never find Michael Western and Fionna sexy, I missed the series and this is the first one that I settled on binge watching.

Not only that they created climax after climax, season after season, they managed to carry on and on, when I thought they were going to end after the first few seasons. What else can you write when the couple refused to part and fight to the end under raining bullets? But they went on to complete season seven, the magic number. To get there the series have to be a hit, with a lot of loyal fans, and good actors that the audiences never grow tired of watching. And above all, decent writers to keep the plots going.

I like Western of course but I don't think he is acting well. Indeed, I pray for the scene to end faster when he encountered drama and have to act. I'm sure Fionna acted well since she is from the theater, but her character is too dramatic to the extent that I feel her exaggerating. But I like them.

Approaching the end, the couple's wish was to become ordinary people living in peace. I would think many people resonated, particularly the team who must have had a hectic life for the whole seven seasons. They made it finally at the end, a happy ending!

Kids and family are musts, even for a spy series.

Binge watching is like catching up with your life, catching up with what you have missed. I know we all have to learn to move on, but when you have the chance, why not induge in some nostalgia?

One thing I find it strange is that they were still using burner phones in the last seasons.  In one episode, they went through a lot of trouble to install a live video feed when they could just stick a phone there.

So I think they had written all the episode very early on, or their real spy consultants were old school, or just old.

It was a hard act to follow. I had a hard time to find the next target that is included in my Netflix and Amazon subscriptions.