Scotch

A beautiful, open, flirty bartender confesses to me that she’s never tasted her own – or any – pussy. I’m floored.

I spent much of my twenties in bars. I never had a drinking problem, but I spent many late nights drinking, mostly with the same crew.

A long evening with a complaint from the neighbors, and police intervention.

A fantastical exchange.

One of the nice things about having a blog like this is you can (I can) type some drunken thoughts, delay their publication by anywhere from 0-240 hours, and press “publish.”

In which I pick up a sexy woman at a bar. Maybe.

How T and I spent a morning, including cats, a magic wand, some sucking and fucking, and just a little humor.

Have you noticed the latest fashion trend? I sure as shit have.

Bad choices equal not feeling. Meditation equals feeling. I’m two scotches in.

She’s young, she’s pretty, she’s compliant but not perfectly so, and I need her mouth on my cock — but there are complications.