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Saturday, September 09, 2006 

No Means No...Until I Get a Present

Ok. We're going to start with what I wrote while sitting in the salon this morning. We'll end with an update of what happened today. Let's begin.

"I'm disappointed that you didn't wear a skirt."
"Well, I'm dissapointed that I didn't get a present."
This was the conversation we had as we headed back to my place after dinner in his 1987 Mercedes Convertable. I hoped he wasn't expecting much from me because I tend to not perform as well when I'm not adequately compensated.

Fetsby (Pocket Kip didn't like that I called him Ferris. He liked his original nickname of Gatsby better...so I decided to combine the two to create Fetsby) still continues to bother me. I told him that the best way to get me to react favorably to him is for him to act favorably toward me. I don't possess my own personality. Instead, my personality is based upon those around me. Therefore, if Fetsby chooses to be cold and pompous towards me, I'll be cold and pompous right back to him.

I think I've got him figured out. He has no game. It's the one thing that he's lacting when I compared him to my past lovers. The Serbian owned nightclubs. When I went to visit him, I was put in the VIP section and all my drinks were comped. That was his game. The Cop was funny. He would make jokes and tease me. Sure, it wasn't monetary, but that was his game. Hell, even Old Man had game. Old Man's game had a lot to do with him buying me things and parading me around.

Getting back to the story. We went back to my plave after dinner. I made sure to put my copy of My Love Affair with Jewelry on the coffee table. We thumbed through the book and I showed him my favorite pieces. He asked me to "scoot over and kiss" him. Really. He did. I hate when men do that. I kissed him but I wouldn't go any further. So he got pouty and left. Good Lord! Not only do I have an idiot on my hands, but I also have a crybaby. I invited him back in so we could 'talk.'

After our 'talk' I let him get to third base. Afterwards, I laid in bed and texted Pocket Kip and Hot Bod. That was his cue to leave. He got dressed and left. I told him the next time I see him I better have a present. Hopefully he's learned that he won't be satisfied until I'm atisfied.

About me

  • I'm young, single, got a great ass, a serial dater, a sometimes drunk, addicted to the gym, liable to make fat girls cry, have a mild ED, think Notre Dame is the greatest college and Texas is the greatest state. Currently at a standstill since moving from Detroit Area, Michigan (tons of yuppies) to Mason, MI (noted KKK presence). Come be a part of my random, shocking, and exciting world.
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