~ Samantha ~ (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sinfulxxxtacy) wrote,@ 2005-11-19 21:03:00 |
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She's Watching Me
Fuck it all, I have another stalker. That's right. A tiny blonde tit-less stalker. This one isn't lurking outside my window jacking off night and day, so hopefully I won't have to deal with jizz on my porch swing again. But stalkers are a monumental pain in the ass, jizz or no jizz.
That's her, right there. I know I'm highly addictive, but she's really carrying the obsession a little too far. She calls me up all hours of the night and day, usually mid-orgasm. Yeah, my name sounds good on her lips and all, but not when I'm trying to sleep. I keep expecting her used panties to pop up in the mail any day now. I am very open to suggestions on how to deal with her. Ideally, it should involve some type of bondage, maybe some spanking and lots of very large phallic objects crammed in every each of her holes. But, you know, I'm flexible.
Do I sound cranky? Blame it on the boondocks. I know I complained about New Orleans being a big, giant swamp but at least it had some perks. Baton Rouge does not qualify as a city. If I get a hankering for fried chicken or church, I'm all set, but otherwise there's nothing good to do here. Lauren and I wanted to go out dancing so one of my friends suggested we take a stab at The Texas Club. The doorman was a really odious little fucker, but I tried not to let that ruin my night. There were a few cute frat boys on the floor and one really yummy cowboy but his wenchy, clingy wife-type spoiled the eye candy effect. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't New Orleans and it had nothing on the Bay Area. I miss Ruby Skye and I really, really miss EndUp.
Oh and as long as I'm venting, let's talk mail. I've been getting at least one mis-delivery a day, and not just letters. Sometimes Hot-Dumb Mailguy leaves packages for the wrong people on my doorstep, too. Now, being the paragon of virtue I am, you know I would never dream of peeking in those boxes before I drop them off for re-delivery. But not everybody is so honest. And there have been all kinds of things that haven't made it to me. I can't help wondering which of my neighbors is sporting the scarlett and cream satin bra I ordered from a small internet boutique two weeks ago. I should have had them ship it UPS but I kind of thought I could giggle and hit on Hot-Dumb Mailguy when he delivered it. Well, now I'm ticked off and he's lost his big opportunity. No hot Sammie sex for the sexy but intellectually-challenged this week. Yes, this includes you, Briggie. Sorry, pumpkin. Oh and P.S. honey, if you sent me any panties via the USPS, my local panty boy is probably having a grand old time. Oh and by the way guys...my wish list presents are delivered to a friends house, so don't feel like you have to stop spoiling me now.
Speaking of which, I have been the happiest, most spoiled little bitch ever this month. I adore most of you guys to bits and pieces anyway. You don't have to spoil me with presents to gain my eternal love and devotion or anything, but damn, it sure doesn't hurt. In the past I've usually thanked my sugar daddies, gift-sluts and other generous souls privately because I don't want any of you to ever feel like you have to buy me things to make me happy. A big messy load of cum or a crazy hot role play makes me super smiley, too. But I like bragging and plus...to be honest, I'd hate to have the presents stop coming cause I seem ungrateful. Far better to seem greedy, I say. Insert coy little wink here.
First of all, somebody needs to step forward and claim credit and a whole lot of adoring kisses for the heavenly Lush gift pack. Come out, come out, wherever you are! How am I supposed to thank you for making me all princessy if you don't show yourself? I know the box will probably have your name on it when it arrives, but I'm impatient and I want to thank you now!
Hey Bobert, you need to come out and show yourself, too. I tried to send you a thank you e-mail but it bounced back to me. You can't just gift and run! I think you need at least 8 kisses for this book. I'm having such a great time reading it. I don't usually judge books by their titles, but I put The Bird Man and the Lap Dancer on my wish list because it was intriguing and sexy. And it's just as fun as the title makes it sound. In fact, one of the stories has given me an idea for a cuckold call. We're going to be stranded at a hotel on a rinky dinky Caribbean island. I'm so irritated with my new husband for capsizing the damn yacht that I keep ordering special room service. Every morning you wake up to find a new islander fucking your bride.
Mr. Christopher, it's a good thing you've been pampering me, because otherwise I'd have to lecture you for conspiring against me with the stalker. But eternal love and devotion doesn't really leave a lot of room for lecturing, does it? I look adorable in pigtails and my new cami set. I keep parading around in front of Lauren wearing that cause it always makes her wanna have fun girlie sex with me. Just think what you've done for the cause of girl-on-girl action! You're such a philanthropist. And the lavender linen water</a> is heavenly and one of my necessities. You like being part of my bedtime ritual don't you?
Herself the Sissy Elf has been lavishing me with all kinds of little treats for our spa days! She sent me a tube of my favorite mascara, a wax kit, diffusers for sweet smelling oils, 5 creamy candy bubble bars and a rock star soap. You can imagine how soft and smooth and pretty I am now. I love it when we get all dolled up together! Sissies give the best pedicures.
Mmmm...Daddy Trent, I'm gonna climb up on your lap and throw my arms around your neck! The perfume is utterly girly, fresh, delicious and perfect. Just like your me, right, Daddy? From now on, no more spankings for me! If this is how you treat me when I'm good, I'll have to seem obedient more often. I might not be able to behave but I'll be extra special careful not to get caught...
Okay, I pinched myself and it's still true. The Cad himself deigned to buy me not one present, but two. What was that line about being far too jaded to get wrapped around any pretty young thing's finger? Haha. Shattering your delusions has been such a joy. I'm going to have myself a good laugh every time I flip through one of my magazines and sip my chai. Maybe I should pitch another faux fit just to get more goodies. They're ever so nice...thank you!
Half pint, you do such a fabulous of anticipating all my needs. I know you fretted for ages over what to get me and honestly, the cooler was perfect. You were right about the power outages and also, I plan on taking plenty of road trips to get me out of this pit until I get a chance to move. So thank you very much, little one. You've done a stellar job, again.
Finally...Mr Incognito, I know you don't like journal mentions so I'll keep this brief. Eeeee! Thank you!
I also want to do some shoutouts for calls, too, but I already felt like I've written a novel here so I'll do that first thing in the morning. Promise!
Does anybody actually believe that?
Fuck it all, I have another stalker. That's right. A tiny blonde tit-less stalker. This one isn't lurking outside my window jacking off night and day, so hopefully I won't have to deal with jizz on my porch swing again. But stalkers are a monumental pain in the ass, jizz or no jizz.
That's her, right there. I know I'm highly addictive, but she's really carrying the obsession a little too far. She calls me up all hours of the night and day, usually mid-orgasm. Yeah, my name sounds good on her lips and all, but not when I'm trying to sleep. I keep expecting her used panties to pop up in the mail any day now. I am very open to suggestions on how to deal with her. Ideally, it should involve some type of bondage, maybe some spanking and lots of very large phallic objects crammed in every each of her holes. But, you know, I'm flexible.
Do I sound cranky? Blame it on the boondocks. I know I complained about New Orleans being a big, giant swamp but at least it had some perks. Baton Rouge does not qualify as a city. If I get a hankering for fried chicken or church, I'm all set, but otherwise there's nothing good to do here. Lauren and I wanted to go out dancing so one of my friends suggested we take a stab at The Texas Club. The doorman was a really odious little fucker, but I tried not to let that ruin my night. There were a few cute frat boys on the floor and one really yummy cowboy but his wenchy, clingy wife-type spoiled the eye candy effect. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't New Orleans and it had nothing on the Bay Area. I miss Ruby Skye and I really, really miss EndUp.
Oh and as long as I'm venting, let's talk mail. I've been getting at least one mis-delivery a day, and not just letters. Sometimes Hot-Dumb Mailguy leaves packages for the wrong people on my doorstep, too. Now, being the paragon of virtue I am, you know I would never dream of peeking in those boxes before I drop them off for re-delivery. But not everybody is so honest. And there have been all kinds of things that haven't made it to me. I can't help wondering which of my neighbors is sporting the scarlett and cream satin bra I ordered from a small internet boutique two weeks ago. I should have had them ship it UPS but I kind of thought I could giggle and hit on Hot-Dumb Mailguy when he delivered it. Well, now I'm ticked off and he's lost his big opportunity. No hot Sammie sex for the sexy but intellectually-challenged this week. Yes, this includes you, Briggie. Sorry, pumpkin. Oh and P.S. honey, if you sent me any panties via the USPS, my local panty boy is probably having a grand old time. Oh and by the way guys...my wish list presents are delivered to a friends house, so don't feel like you have to stop spoiling me now.
Speaking of which, I have been the happiest, most spoiled little bitch ever this month. I adore most of you guys to bits and pieces anyway. You don't have to spoil me with presents to gain my eternal love and devotion or anything, but damn, it sure doesn't hurt. In the past I've usually thanked my sugar daddies, gift-sluts and other generous souls privately because I don't want any of you to ever feel like you have to buy me things to make me happy. A big messy load of cum or a crazy hot role play makes me super smiley, too. But I like bragging and plus...to be honest, I'd hate to have the presents stop coming cause I seem ungrateful. Far better to seem greedy, I say. Insert coy little wink here.
First of all, somebody needs to step forward and claim credit and a whole lot of adoring kisses for the heavenly Lush gift pack. Come out, come out, wherever you are! How am I supposed to thank you for making me all princessy if you don't show yourself? I know the box will probably have your name on it when it arrives, but I'm impatient and I want to thank you now!
Hey Bobert, you need to come out and show yourself, too. I tried to send you a thank you e-mail but it bounced back to me. You can't just gift and run! I think you need at least 8 kisses for this book. I'm having such a great time reading it. I don't usually judge books by their titles, but I put The Bird Man and the Lap Dancer on my wish list because it was intriguing and sexy. And it's just as fun as the title makes it sound. In fact, one of the stories has given me an idea for a cuckold call. We're going to be stranded at a hotel on a rinky dinky Caribbean island. I'm so irritated with my new husband for capsizing the damn yacht that I keep ordering special room service. Every morning you wake up to find a new islander fucking your bride.
Mr. Christopher, it's a good thing you've been pampering me, because otherwise I'd have to lecture you for conspiring against me with the stalker. But eternal love and devotion doesn't really leave a lot of room for lecturing, does it? I look adorable in pigtails and my new cami set. I keep parading around in front of Lauren wearing that cause it always makes her wanna have fun girlie sex with me. Just think what you've done for the cause of girl-on-girl action! You're such a philanthropist. And the lavender linen water</a> is heavenly and one of my necessities. You like being part of my bedtime ritual don't you?
Herself the Sissy Elf has been lavishing me with all kinds of little treats for our spa days! She sent me a tube of my favorite mascara, a wax kit, diffusers for sweet smelling oils, 5 creamy candy bubble bars and a rock star soap. You can imagine how soft and smooth and pretty I am now. I love it when we get all dolled up together! Sissies give the best pedicures.
Mmmm...Daddy Trent, I'm gonna climb up on your lap and throw my arms around your neck! The perfume is utterly girly, fresh, delicious and perfect. Just like your me, right, Daddy? From now on, no more spankings for me! If this is how you treat me when I'm good, I'll have to seem obedient more often. I might not be able to behave but I'll be extra special careful not to get caught...
Okay, I pinched myself and it's still true. The Cad himself deigned to buy me not one present, but two. What was that line about being far too jaded to get wrapped around any pretty young thing's finger? Haha. Shattering your delusions has been such a joy. I'm going to have myself a good laugh every time I flip through one of my magazines and sip my chai. Maybe I should pitch another faux fit just to get more goodies. They're ever so nice...thank you!
Half pint, you do such a fabulous of anticipating all my needs. I know you fretted for ages over what to get me and honestly, the cooler was perfect. You were right about the power outages and also, I plan on taking plenty of road trips to get me out of this pit until I get a chance to move. So thank you very much, little one. You've done a stellar job, again.
Finally...Mr Incognito, I know you don't like journal mentions so I'll keep this brief. Eeeee! Thank you!
I also want to do some shoutouts for calls, too, but I already felt like I've written a novel here so I'll do that first thing in the morning. Promise!
Does anybody actually believe that?
