This is a blog that, in part, documents specific spots around Portland OR that are either conducive to, or antethical to, getting laid. Be you man or woman, be you looking for cock or cunt. Doesn't matter. I've been all of the above (sort of), and I'm looking for all of the above. I'm all about equal opportunity.

The other part of the website is just an excuse for me to talk in graphic detail about my sex life and the sex lives of those around me. Portland is a hedonistic motherfucking town, and it likes it's booze and booty. I'll be creating search terms and tags as I go, but for now I'm just going to blog spot by spot, as I go there. You can run a search for a place you're headed to, or run a search for what you're looking for (like, you know, anal sex). Some of these posts are going to be ridiculously explicit. Not all of them, but some of them. Just as a heads up...

Monday, December 5, 2011

The Crowne Plaza Hotel - continued

At this point, I still hadn't touched this guy, and based on the way he treated his girlfriend, I wasn't sure I wanted to. So, I put my hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back from her. I was still behind her, so I cupped her breast with my hands, put my cheek against hers, and said "wouldn't you like to just watch for a bit?" with a wink. He nodded, and I suggested he pull the comfy chair up to the bottom of the bed. I leaned in and asked her softly if she was comfortable with this, and she nodded her head eagerly.

I decided to stay behind her for now, let her focus on sensation instead of site. I pulled her to her knees with my hands under her arms, ran my hands down her torso and back up, kissing her neck all the while. I was enjoying the sensation of woman under my hands, soft and yielding, curved and warm. I applied more pressure on my next pass down, running my hands down her belly and firmly pressing into her pelvis, pulling her butt back into the curve of my hips. I started talking to her, telling her what I wanted to do to her, rocking my hips against her butt with every other word, letting my whisper wash over the skin of her cheek. I brought my hand up to her throat and kept it there, just lightly lying against her pulse. My other hand made its way down to the bottom of her skirt, which had ridden up her hips. I grabbed the hem and pulled it up, tucking it up underneath her bra, so the front of her body was exposed. I pulled her tits out of her bra one by one, tightening my grasp on her neck while I did it, so her breath caught and her head arched back into my shoulder.

And I looked at him, making eye contact while I pulled her nipple out taut, then ran my fingertips down her belly. I was feeling a little Alpha at the moment, challenging his ownership of either of us. But I broke contact with him when I ran my fingers down her smooth shaven mound, turning my head to look at her as I slipped one finger into her wet folds to find her clit. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open and slack as her breath hitched. I watched her eyelids flicker as I gently played with her nub, sliding up and down, getting my finger wet by dipping down into her cunt, then bringing it back up to coat her clit. It was beautiful, and I felt myself split into two people, experiencing both what I was doing to her, and what it feels like when it was done to me. This, this is one of the things I love most about being with women. This intense duality, this absolute knowledge of what she was experiencing it, feeling my fingers on her clit almost like they were on mine. It was perfectly empathetic, in a way I've never experienced with men.

I grew impatient, and incredibly aroused. I pushed her down onto her back with my hand on her neck, moving out from behind her and to her side. She lay completely placid in front of me, and I knew I could do whatever I wanted to her. Strangely, this bugged me. I wanted more from her, I wanted her to either push for what she needed or fight me. I wanted conflict, not peaceful acceptance. So I looked over at her boyfriend and motioned him to get up on the bed. I told him to position himself up by her head, but to do nothing else for the moment. I looked back down at her supine body, and told her to open her eyes. When she didn't comply, I pinched her nipples hard, twisting. She gasped, hips jerking up, and opened her eyes. I smiled and said "good girl. Now keep them open."

I leaned down and sucked her nipple into my mouth, pulling strongly. When she touched the back of my head, I bit down on her nipple. She gasped and her hands flew to grab the sheets. I mumbled "Good girl" again, and commenced to ravishing her breasts with attention. She had lovely breasts, full and perky, with soft pink nipples. Which were very sensitive. I love sensitive nipples. I love playing rough with them, pulling and biting to just this side of pain, then softly laving them with my tongue and lips. I set my teeth to her nipple, and let my hand roam down her belly. I could feel her belly muscles contracting under my fingers, jumping with nervousness. I bit down a little harder, eyes rolled up so I could make sure her eyes were open. When I reached her hole, I shoved my finger up and in hard and fast, while at the same time lifting my head with her nipple still clenched between my teeth. She screamed and arched up to follow my mouth, while her cunt spasmed around my finger. I let her nipple go, popping wetly out of my mouth, and started fucking her hard with my finger.

I looked at her boyfriend and told him to shove his cock in her mouth. He got such a huge grin on his face, I had to giggle a little. Her mouth was already open and needy, so it was easy for him to lean over her and shove his cock down her throat. I reached to the side, grabbed a smaller dildo, and used that to fuck her cunt while he fucked her throat. I leaned up and kept sucking her nipples while fucking her, and in less than 5 minutes she came. Which is when I found out she was a squirter. He still hadn't come yet, but I got up on my knees behind him and pulled his hips away from her mouth, mostly to give her time to recover. We both sat up around her head and petted her back down. I started petting him a little, and said "Your turn".

It amazes me, sometimes, the things that couples don't know about each other. The things that they might never learn about each other. This couple had never really communicated each others real needs to each other. He treated her like a rag doll, which wasn't the type of sub she actually was. She wanted to be dominated, but not be turned into an object. And he, apparently, really liked having things shoved up his ass. She found this out after we'd both been sucking on his cock for a while, and he turned and pointed at a butt plug they'd brought and asked me to shove it in him. Hard. With no lube. Which told me this wasn't his first time. When I looked over at her, her eyes were HUGE. Apparently, to him, being a Dom didn't involve being able to tell her to do whatever he wanted if it didn't make him feel manly. Silly boy. I grinned, because the idea of pegging this boy was a very happy thought. I grabbed the plug, had her move over just a bit, and told her to watch. I took him back in my mouth, positioned the plug, and shoved it hard up into his ass just as I swallowed his cock whole. He screamed, arched up off the bed into my mouth, and came after just a couple of thrusts. I didn't want to swallow his cum, so I let it fill my mouth a bit, then pulled up and away, letting it fall back down and coat his cock. His girlfriends eyes were still huge, a little shell shocked, and I grabbed the back of her head, kissed her hard, and then guided her head down to his cock and told her to clean it.

We spent some time cleaning up after that, took a shower, cleaned up the bed, and drank some more scotch. We talked a bit, and I had him explain to her what he liked about having his ass filled with a butt plug. I fooled around with her some more, just gentle, soft core porn shit. But it gave him another erection. By this time, she was almost asleep. It was well after 2am, and while both he and I were hyper, she was out of it. So he asked her if it was ok if he fucked me on the couch. She nodded yes sleepily, rolled some blanket over her, and pretty much passed out. We moved to the couch and proceeded to completely violate it. I let him fuck me in as many positions as we could think of, and I made him grab a vibrator and hold it to my clit while thrusting so I could come in whatever position I wanted. We were loud, and apparently we woke her up after about 20 minutes. I was on my back under him at this point, lying along the couch, with one of his legs on the floor and one bent up and almost under me. I'll give him this, dude was athletic. But he stopped, and looked over at the bed. I craned my neck up so I could look too, and she was sitting up on the bed looking at us. Crying.
Not good. Apparently theory was a lot more acceptable than reality. We both scrambled up off the couch and started towards the bed, but she jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. He followed, but I stayed back, figuring I couldn't do much good and might do some harm. They spent a good half hour in the bathroom, which time I took to pack all of my shit up, get dressed, and prepare to leave. I didn't think this could end well. I waited till they came back out to say goodbye, but when I said I was leaving they both protested, saying I shouldn't go. It was awkward, but I stayed. He ended up fucking her next to me, in what I can only assume was a protestation of his love, and neither of them actually touched me again that night.
Which was frustrating.

But all in all, it was a positive experience. I had a lot of fun topping them, and it was interesting teaching and watching their dynamic. It broke some barriers for me, as far as group sex goes, and I compiled a bunch of great memories to masturbate to later. :D

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Crowne Plaza Hotel, Convention Center

This is kinda a snazzy hotel. Kinda. It's one of those hotels that has pretensions of grandeur. It backs its shit up, to a certain extent. It's got lotion in pretty bottles, but it's cheap lotion. And that about sums up hotels like this.
You're paying for a veneer of bourgeois opulence, and that's all that most people who come to this hotel really want.

However, that makes it pretty perfect for a tryst. Especially if it's a somewhat trashy tryst. This hotel lends itself to an air of respectability, while still allowing you to revel in the naughtiness of whatever it is you're doing. The concierge won't blink an eye when you check in to your room using a local license (something that actually causes quite a few questions most places, a story for another time), but they'll send you off to your room with your lover with a wink and a knowing smile. Srsly. That happened to me. A wink and a knowing smile.
Of course, it probably helped that I was checking into a room with a couple. A young looking couple, after we'd been sitting in the hotel bar for about an hour.

My tryst wasn't that trashy. I hadn't met them in the bar an hour ago, hit it off with both of them, spent an hour flirting progressively more sluttily, and eventually made the obvious comment that maybe this should continue upstairs... that didn't happen.
What did happen is that I met this guy on Craigslist, who was advertising for himself and his girlfriend. He had a good ad, very blunt and honest, and he described himself as an MMA fighter, and his girlfriend was a curvy asian nerd. His words, not mine. But they sounded intriguing to me.
I chatted with both of them, separately and together, for a number of weeks before we made a date to meet up. We were looking for a hotel, because we wanted this to be completely neutral. She'd never been a part of a threesome before, and was nervous about meeting a stranger. He was titillated by the idea of a hotel room threesome. Can't say as I blamed him. I kind of was too.
So, we decided on the Crowne Plaza, for pretty much the exact reasons I elucidated above. Classy enough (ie: expensive enough) to provide a thin veneer of respectability to our venture. A very thin veneer.

We met in the bar downstairs. Hotel bars are special places. I've never actually met anyone at a hotel bar that I then proceeded to sleep with. But I've taken an awful lot of people I've already met to hotel bars, and then slept with them... That's probably not related. ANYWAYS, hotel bars have a very specific sort of energy. There's a sense of exciting transience to them. There's a lot of people (sometimes) gathered in one place who don't belong in that place, uprooted, outside their comfort zones, and hoping to get fucked by a random stranger. It lends itself to a very sexy energy, if you're in the right mood.
We were in the right mood. We saw each other face to face for the first time in the bar. I had showed up in a taxi, toting an overnight bag full of dildos, lube, condoms, and sexy lingerie. I was wearing a short, flirty skirt, high heels, sheer black thigh highs attached to a garter belt, and a ridiculously cleavagy top. I was doing my damndest to get into the illicit spirit of things. I got myself a top shelf gin martini, sat down at a back table by myself, crossed my legs, and prepared my mind. I told myself a story, based on the way that others were looking at me. Regardless of how tonight actually went, I was going to have fun with the concept. See, this was my first threesome. I'd been with women before, and obviously with men. But never together.
The bar at this place lent itself well to stories. There was a group of Navy men in town, and the officers were staying in this hotel. They happened to be at the bar when I walked in, and the way they stopped all conversation and stared when I walked in made me feel like I was Greta Garbo, walking into a smokey speakeasy. Sitting in the back, sipping my martini, with my stocking clad crossed legs, enhanced the illusion. It was fun.
And then the couple walked in. I have to say, the transition from story to reality was a little disconcerting. They were... very realistic. He was a big guy, wide shoulders, tall, thick legs, middling gut. She was... cute. Pudgy, but cute. VERY young, maybe 23, 24. She looked like a young Yoko Ono. And he looked like a young Middlesex drover, if that makes any sense. If it doesn't, look up the industrial revolution. I felt rather overdressed when I saw what they were wearing. He was in shorts and a button up shirt, and she was in a sundress and flipflops. But, it did give me a feeling of power to be so much more formal than they were. It was a feeling that lasted throughout the encounter.

The conversation was desultory at best. She was uncomfortable, and he was ridiculously excited and raring to get started. But we took our time talking, and I got progressively more flirty with her while keeping my distance with him. She needed it, and he so didn't. It took about an hour, and 2 drinks, but she warmed up, and we decided to head upstairs. We had decided to put the room on his card, but we were splitting it three ways, and I'd give him cash later. So we walked up to the concierge desk, him with his arms around both of us, milking the obviousness of the moment for all it was worth. He paid, and the young man behind the counter gave him his key and receipt with a wink and a knowing grin. I had to laugh. It was So. Fucking. Obvious what we were doing. What with our complete lack of luggage other than my goody bag, and the giant, shit eating grin on his face... I'd have been giggling if I worked there.

We were on the 4th floor, and we shared the elevator ride up with one of the Naval Officers. He kept glancing over at me and the other girl, then at the guy, then back at us. With a big grin on his face the entire time. I have a feeling high fives would have been exchanged if either of them thought they could get away with it.

The room itself was pretty nice. Big windows, a seating area with a nice big couch and comfy chairs, a fridge, a bathroom with a big tub, and a GIANT king size bed... it was worth the $140 we paid for it.
We walked in and opened up the very expensive bottle of scotch I'd brought. I don't know why, since none of us really needed more alcohol. But it was something to keep our hands and minds busy for the moment, so it seemed like a good idea. We sat down, the two girls on the bed and him on the chair in front of it, sipped our scotch, and chatted some more.
I was actually getting impatient at this point. We'd talked enough for me to realize that we weren't in any way intellectually compatible. They were too young, I was too picky, yadayadayada... it just wasn't working on that level. I wanted it to get to a physical level before the lack of mental connection became glaring enough to be a problem.
So I moved to my old, fool proof standby, the backrub. I moved up behind her on the bed and started rubbing her shoulders lightly. He took that as an invitation, and jumped onto the bed. Which made her stiffen up immediately. I should have known, at this point, that she wasn't quite as comfortable as she should have been with what was happening. But I was horny, and impatient, and I'd had 3 gin martinis. My judgement was a little off. I was enjoying rubbing her back. She was sitting on her knees, in between my spread legs, and I tend to find the intimacy of giving someone a backrub a total turn on. Once she'd loosened up her shoulders, I moved my hands up and over, so that I was massaging the muscles around her breasts. This, by the way? Feels GREAT. You don't realize how much tension you carry in that area till someone starts really massaging it, especially if you have larger breasts. Anyways, by this point I'm leaning forward into her back with every pull of my hands on her chest, and I can tell by the way her breathing is hitching that she's getting turned on. I started gently kissing her neck, while continuing to firmly massage her upper chest. Her boyfriend comes around to the front and starts kissing her, and I move my hands down under her arms and cup her breasts, still lightly, playing with her nipples. He's kissing her very deeply, pushing a little too hard, too fast, so I put my hand on her chin, pull her face towards mine, and kiss her. Lightly, giving her room to pull away if she wants. She doesn't, so I deepen the kiss. I've got one hand on her chin, holding her head sideways as I lean over and kiss her, and one arm holding her back against my chest, with that hand still cupping her breast. And I'm thoroughly turned on by the dominant nature of the moment. I'm enjoying leading her gently and inexorably down a pleasurable path. She's starting to moan into my mouth, and I realize her boyfriend has slipped his hand under her skirt and is playing with her cunt. I start tugging on her nipple a little harder, and tighten my grasp on her chin. She gasps, and I'm starting to hope that we're all going to be pretty damn compatible. Till her boyfriend tugs her away from me starts slavering into her mouth with his hand pushing harder underneath her skirts. Now, they're a couple. They should know each other better than I can know either of them. But I can tell that she's the sort who wants to be gently and firmly led into arousal, with her eyes closed and her senses alert. She's being dragged along in his wake now, though, and it's doing damage to the sense of safety and lushness I was trying to create. This has me pondering the joys of a threesome. It would have been easier, and at this point, more fun, with just the two girls. To be continued...

Friday, October 21, 2011


Yes, I'm starting with the building I work in. Why? Because it's where I've most recently had sex, so it's fresh in my memory. How does this benefit other people? It doesn't. Fuck off. It's my blog.

Having sex at work is a debatably stupid thing to do for most people. The risk of getting caught and fired, which is actually what seems to turn most people who do it on, is NOT negligible, regardless of what shift you work. I happen to work swing shift in an office that keeps regular business hours, so it's a little easier for me. But there's still cleaning crew, surveillance cameras, security guards, and the random coworker who forgets something at work. And I'm not actually turned on by the risk of getting caught and fired. I'd really rather not deal with one of my coworkers seeing me in flagrante delicto, the security guards SO don't need confirmation of their fantasies, and I'd feel incredibly bad traumatizing the sweet grandmothers who clean my floor. So why do I do it?
Every time it's happened it's been an accident.
I swear! Ok, there was that one time with the guy who had the fantasy about ethernet cables... See, we were at the beer bar down the street, called Baileys (which will get its fair share soon enough, believe me), and things were getting rather hot and heavy. He knew where I worked, and what I did for a living. The fact that I was a computer nerd turned him on to no end. I knew this, but I didn't know why. Till that night. He'd had about 3 strong beers, and was feeling it. He wasn't drunk, but he was definitely uninhibited. We were talking about nerdy things, books and computers and the like (heh. That sounds so patronizing and stereotypical. Sorry), and he leans in close and asks me, in a low, husky whisper, if I worked with Cat5 Cable (ethernet cable). I leaned back a bit from his boozy breath and gave him a considering look. I could tell that this was important to him, though I still had no idea why. I could also tell he had a raging boner, which was distracting, to say the least. So, with my eyes on that boner, I said yes. And watched it twitch and swell. At this point, I was lost.
See, my kryptonite has always been other peoples desire. When I see it, especially in someone I'm already attracted to, I am drawn along in its wake, with very little control over my actions.Which is why I'm generally very careful about whose desire I'm seeing... but anyways, I was at a point where anything would have seemed like a good idea, as long as it involved the cock that was writhing under those pants being set free at some point soon.
I looked back up at him, and he had a glazed look in his eyes. I laughed, and asked him why. But I asked him why in a husky, knowing whisper, because I had my suspicions. He turned red, pulled back, and said "Nothing. No reason."
I pulled back a bit as well, put my hand on his thigh, and turned back to my beer. We sat and sipped our beer in silence for a couple minutes. And I kept my hand on his thigh, higher up, never moving except for a slight stroking with my fingers. And I could feel this energy building up in him. He kept stealing little glances at me, and I'd be staring ahead with a completely innocuous expression on my face. But always with the warmth of my hand and teasing brush of my fingers. After about 5 minutes, he broke. He leaned towards me again, a dangerous maneuver in the bar stools we were sitting in, and put his hand on the back of my neck. He kept it there, and proceeded to tell me he'd always had a fantasy about being tied up with cables while sitting in an office chair and having his dick sucked. He said it quickly, more than a little ashamed and afraid of ridicule, but also breathlessly excited. And I sat there, with his hand on the back of my neck, and was completely overcome with desire. I'm pretty sure my pupils dilated like they'd just been hit by a beam of light. I just said "come with me". We'd already paid for our still mostly full beers, so we got up and left.
It was a cold November evening, raining of course, and it hit us hard after the steamy warmth of the bar. We were neither of us dressed appropriately. I grabbed his hand and pulled him across the street, in the direction of my work. We didn't say anything, just held hands and walked through the rain. I want to say that the tension built as we neared my building, but in reality the only thing that built was my nervousness. Like I said, I'm not a danger seaking sort of gal, and my coworker was going to be there doing his job that night. We got to my building, went through the front doors, and were immediately accosted by a security guard. Who's my friend, and who just wanted to say hi. Didn't help with the nervousness, though. On the way up to my floor in the elevators, he wanted to kiss me. But I pulled away, laughing uncomfortably, knowing there were cameras in the elevator. When I pointed that out to him, he got even more excited. Crap. He was one of those guys. I suddenly got worried that he was going to make it difficult for me to keep this discreet.
I came this close to backing off, saying it wouldn't work. He didn't even know what IT was yet, though he had a pretty good idea. But then I looked at him, and he was glowing like a kid in a candy shop. And I thought "how often does this get to happen? How often is one granted the ability to fulfill such an intense fantasy with so much relative ease?", and I regained my sense of fun in this enterprise. I wasn't as turned on (fear is not an aphrodisiac for me), but I was feeling mischievous and powerful.
We got off the elevator at my floor, and I led him to my office. We went in through the back way, into the secondary office area. My coworker would be in the main one, separated from us by a doorway and a whole bunch of printers and office equipment. I stopped in a dark corner, told him to stay there, and went off to find my coworker. I went back in through the front door, making a bunch of noise, and he popped his head out from his cubicle. I pretended surprise, and went over to chat. "Oh, I'm just picking up some stuff I forgot. What's up here? Anything interesting?", quickly determining that he was indeed, alone, and bored, and watching movies on his laptop. Perfect. There was no reason for him to come to the back room tonight, and it was late enough that the cleaning staff would all be long gone. I yawned, said I needed to get home, left through the front door, and ran to the back door. I found him exactly where I left him, and went up to him and we started kissing. He quickly had me backed up against a desk, and things were getting pretty hot and heavy, but I wanted to focus on his fantasy. I pulled back, grabbed his hand, and looked around for a good spot. There was a corner in front of us, enclosed on three sides by huge bookshelves, with a chair and desk inside it. Perfect. I led him over to the chair, pushed him down, and told him to close his eyes. He was pretty much vibrating at this point. I left him and went to our IT supply closet. I grabbed three 25ft cables, bright orange and yellow, and brought them back. His eyes were still closed, and he was leaning back in the chair with his pelvis thrust forward, cock bulging under his jeans. I trailed my fingers along it, enjoying the feeling it of pulsing rather desperately, then ran my hand up, along his arm, pulling it down off the arm of the chair and behind him. He opened his eyes at that and I rapped him on the leg, telling him not to peek. He obediently closed his eyes again, and I did the same thing to his other arm. I walked behind him, caressing his shoulders and chest, then running my hand down his arm again, encouraging him to bring them both back a bit more. I ran a cable loosely around both wrists a couple of times, just enough to get it to hold there on its own. Then I took both ends and wrapped them around the arms of the chair, tightly. I took another cable and wrapped it around his chest and the chair multiple times. I was going to use the third for his feet, but realized quickly that would rather defeat the purpose of our game. None of the cables were wrapped tightly enough that he couldn't get out of them quickly. I was still thinking of the cleaning crew at this point, just in case.
But they were tight enough that he could flex against them, know that they were there with every movement. And the sense of being tied up, false as it may have been, totally did it for him. I was on my knees in front of him at this point, looking up at his face. And it was slack with need, head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth open on panting breath. It was hot, and I felt powerful. I continued watching his face as I slowly undid his zipper, saw his mouth close on a gulp as the zipper made it's slow, difficult way down his raging erection. I had him lift his hips a little, so I could get his jeans pulled down off his hips, but I left them tight around his knees, confining him. I leaned forward, blew on the tip of his cock, and told him to open his eyes and look at me. He did so, slowly, and I watched his eyes dilate. He flexed his arms, testing the strength of his bonds, and stared at me the whole time. I kept my mouth close to his cock and my eyes on his, and I felt it brush my lips with every rush of blood, straining to be inside my mouth. I smiled, leaned forward a bit, and took him completely inside my mouth in one intense rush. He gasped, threw his head back, and strained at the cables. I could tell he wanted to put his hands on my head. I pulled back away slowly, and looked up at him with just the tip in my mouth. And I could feel such a sense of... fulfillment from him. This is why it was hot. It wasn't just the desire, the blowjob. It was the sense of safety, and of a fantasy long hidden, ashamed of, pulled out into the light and fulfilled. I gave him what was quite possibly the longest blowjob I've ever given anyone, pulling back every time he was about to come, making him beg for it. I pulled my breasts out of my shirt, leaned forward, and fucked him with my tits, sucking on the tip of him every time it thrust up through my breasts. That's how he came, eventually, covering my breasts with his cum, gasping and straining against the cables to the point that they started to unravel, legs quivering and jumping. I watched him the whole time, feeling his cum shoot up along my throat and hitting my chin, looking up the line of his body and watching it twitch. It took him a little bit, but eventually he opened his eyes and looked down at me. With a huge grin on his face.
I'd been a little worried that he'd feel... guilty, or dirty. Sometimes people can't deal with a fantasy that's been hidden for so long being pulled up into reality. It might be hot, but sometimes the after effect is shame.
Not for this guy, thank god. I laughed with delight, jumped up, and got him some paper towels, cleaning myself up in the process. I untied him, and we stayed there chatting for a little bit, talking about what it felt like for him, how he reacted, where the fantasy had come from.
Talking about it actually got him so turned on that he got hard again. He looked down in surprise, looked up at me, smiled, and turned me around so I was facing the desk. He pushed me down, lifted up my skirt,put a condom on, and fucked me incredibly hard. This was a problem for me, because I'm nothing if not a screamer, especially doggy style. But I grabbed our coats, shoved my face into them, and came trying not to scream.

I never actually saw him again after that. It was about 2 years ago, and neither of us made any effort to contact the other after that night. For me, I knew I didn't want to date him, and I didn't think further contact after such an intense experience would be helpful in making sure that was clear. For him, I don't know. I have a feeling it was to maintain that sense of fantasy perfectly fulfilled, to keep it sharp and clear in his mind, unmuddled by other sensations. He actually emailed me not that long ago, on OkCupid. It was kind of hilarious, and adorable. He started off with "Hey!! You probably don't remember me, but I soooo remember you. I just wanted to say, that night in your office building was, and still is, the hottest thing I've ever experienced. Thank you :D. Hope life is treating you well!" and signed it. I have in my phone as T-Ethernet tieup guy, and I get a little grin on my face every time I pass his contact info.

So, sometimes, rarely, but sometimes, taking the risk and fucking someone at work is worth it.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

What I want this to be vs What this will probably become...

There's a whole history behind the word "promiscuous" (personal history, that is. I know there's a whole NOTHER history revolving around its use in the everyday world, but that's not what we'll be discussing here) as it pertains to this blog, but I'm in the mood to wax philosophical so that'll have to wait.
Suffice it to say, this blog is dedicated to describing the many and wonderful places in Portland OR where it's easy to get laid. If you've got the right skill set and a little bit of determination, that is.
It'll be mostly my personal experience, highlighting great spots and giving a bit of a review and story. But eventually I'd like to get the input of other people. I'll probably end up giving too much advice and sounding preachy, because I tend to do that a lot when it comes to this sort of thing. But it's IMPORTANT, this being able to go out and meet like minded individuals who are going to have sex with you! It's not something to be completely left to the whims of chance and alcohol.
I'd like to tailor this blog to people who might actually read it and benefit from it, but that's not going to happen, unfortunately. I'm an atypical nerd, and I write like one. Sadly, most of the nerds I know don't make it a priority to analyze and give structure to the fundamental and basic need of finding a sex partner. It would be SO MUCH EASIER if they did. God. And that's a completely selfish complaint on my part, since I happen to be more attracted to nerds than anything else, and it gets fucking difficult to stalk them in their natural habitat.

Anyways. This blog will be 1/4 review site, 1/4 stories, 1/4 personal meanderings, and 1/4 whatever pops to mind in the moment. On to the reviews!