Gobi Desert, Mongolia aka my sex life
I am what I think most people would think of as "pretty," maybe even "beautiful," definitely a wee "exotic." I am a cute 30-something, good weight (average but more on the voluptuous side), petite Latina. I've never had to seek out booty. I wonder if it has to do with my age? I haven't felt this horny this often ever...
Couple in Orgasm from some random site (daydreams...)
Anyway, I'm a wreck right now because my weekend, more or less, went to shit in the pursuit of booty. I'm pursuing an old friend (as is my single-lady-with-no-prospects-MO) and he is a flaky piece of shit that already has a girlfriend, so what the fuck am I doing? I don't like being backed up like this. I need human caress. Even more than that, I need more friends. I need people. My phone does not ring often. My inner circle consists of my older sister: that's it. I have a decent middle circle (thank goodness, I guess).
Big ups to the middle circle!!! Hey! Hoe!
I don't know how to not be needy. I mean, I want people in my life. I love being social. I need to get out of this. Too much time alone means too much time in my head means more depression and anxiety. It's a vicious cycle. Oh baby, you spin me right 'round baby right 'round like a record baby 'round 'round 'round 'round.
Mr. Booty Call called me when I was sitting by the edge of Prospect Park Lake, crying my brains out and wishing for death, wishing for solitude, complete and total ...
Crying a Lake for You by Alive5
And now for a brief aside...
(I'm in a sublet, shared w two other bitches right now, totally sucks ass. I'm too Diva, too damn grown to be dealing with roommates, sorry! Maybe this seems antithetical to my whole wanting-to-have-more-friends-schpiel but trust. Though I could use more friends, roommate-situation is not the answer. I gain too much strength from my alone time. I need that in order to be the best person I can be!)
Anyway, so Mr. Booty Call rings and I'm in no state to answer the phone and come across as calm, cool, collected, normal, so I let it go to voicemail. He leaves a message about how he has a sore throat and is going to the store to get something and that he would call me later. After I've had a few minutes to compose myself, I call him back, no one answers. I don't bother leaving a voice message. Then, I arrive home via my sweet sweet ride. (A lovely 1970s blue and white vintage Peugeot 10-speed! Super sweet n sick.) I send him a text message, that was about an hour ago. No word. Nothing. I'm gonna stop. I'm stopping.
