socks – Page 3

Easing out the Kinks, Part Eight

After I kissed Craftsmate’s cheek, the two pushed me down onto the floor.

“I don’t think you’re allowed on the furniture,” Penthouse explained, “I didn’t hear either of us say you could sit up here.”

“Kneel,” Craftsmate said, moving me back down to the floor when I tried to get back up.

“Sit up straight,” Penthouse added, “legs further apart.”

I can only imagine how much I was blushing. But it wasn’t as much as when we were leaving and Penthouse told Craftsmate to “make sure Ivy is housebroken” the next time we came to visit so I didn’t keep climbing up on the furniture.

As we left, the two agreed the day turned out much better than they had thought. I huffed and went to interject, but they were quick to reply that I had gotten exactly what I wanted.

Touché.

For the flirtastic, babealicious Southern Belle in my inbox:

You’re doing fabulous work at redeeming your side of the Mason-Dixon.

<3, Ivy

It happens when I’m in a store and I see a certain kind of dress or a pair of socks with bows on it. It’s this pause, this momentary catch in my throat.

Her daddy always says she’s the greediest at playdates.

She says she’s just the best hostess ever.

So, I have been procrastinating making this post since the beginning of the summer because I am super lazy and also I have a lot of feelings, but Roommate took the year off. After some crazy home/family stuff that really doesn’t belong on my sex blog, she called me and told me that she needs the year off of Ivy University to straighten that stuff out.

“My biggest regret, honestly,” she said, “and my biggest worry about the whole thing, was having to tell you this. Because I so wanted to have next year with you.”

It stung and we both were very sad, but I called up a friend of mine and she took Roommate’s spot in our place instead. So, Roommate is no longer my Roommate. I guess, because it’s her drink and because it just seems right for her, I’ll call her Corona now.

She and I have made sure to find time to talk to each other and I absolutely love my roommate, who I’ll call Sunshine for personality-related reasons. But, there are some nights where I really miss her and when I look around the place and wonder what it would be like if she were here, how it would look, what would be different.

She left a little coded message on facebook for me the other day. Something only I would recognize. I know she did it to be sweet and to let me know that she was thinking of me, but God did it sting like crazy.

I guess there’s something there, tumblr. I don’t know. Regardless, I miss her.

darkangelsbride:

Photo by Gennady Tarakanov

tamino:

I need to brush out your hair. I need you to need me to.

I need it.

I’ll kick your butt, Daddy. No lies. I’m hard candy.

So, followers. I’m aware of this tendency I have to begin describing a part of my life, conflict, etc and then being too lazy to continue it or describe the resolution. So, ah, I’d like to get around to that sometime.

definitelydope:

gallows hung around (by the girl who tamed the tiger)

Sometimes, he sends her to the corner to think about what she’s done.

But, she isn’t the sharpest little girl.

So sometimes that takes a while.

Things I am stressed about today:

Last night, I accompanied my best friend out and may have allowed her to get a little wasted at a party. At one point in the evening, she pounced on me and tried to make out with me. I managed to wrestle her off, knowing she was totally not in the right state of mind, and she almost started crying because of some trouble with a guy she had been hooking up with. Awesome.
During the evening, I completely said the wrong thing to that guy from my frat and I am fairly sure I may have completely screwed things on even a friendship level there.
The evening ended in me, her, and her ex-boyfriend in a shouting match in the student center at three in the morning when she wanted to go home with him. He was absolutely awful to her and he got ultra-defensive when I asked her if she was going to be okay with this decision.
Today, I finally heard from her. She doesn’t remember last night, partially from being blackout drunk and partially because they had such violent sex her head knocked the headboard and she got a concussion.
When I told her what she did last night, not realizing she was just getting out of a hospital, she broke down crying and called herself the worst person on Earth.
I am now headed over to her room with cookies so we can sit around and bitch about men.

Seriously, tumblr, can I ever just catch a break?