...well, as far as I am concerned, he can just go to hell.
No, fuck. I don't mean that. But why, Eric, why did it have to be with her? That big-tittied brunette bitch that works in the same bookstore I do? Fuck you, Clara!
I miss him. I miss the way he held me and caressed me. The way he would look in my eyes and smile. Hmm- I guess I could have fallen in love with him, but I didn't. I just loved having sex with him. Ugh, back when we still had it. What has it been now? God on a toilet, like three months since we broke up! "I just thought we should expand the boundaries and definition of our relationship" WTF does that even mean?!?! I still can't believe he said that! Well, he can just fuck that little bitch instead and expand her. Fuck, she doesn't deserve a cock like that. She probably has no idea what to do with it. I hope it splits her in half.
So I guess it is back to batteries for a while. Sigh. Why is just so hard to find a good guy to fuck in this town? And he was the first boyfriend I had that was really taller than me. They are so hard to find. I hate it when girls idealize me as "oh... you are 6-foot tall blonde girl with big boobs, you must get any guy you want!" But it's not true. Only the assholes. The nice ones are too intimidated. Or are too short. Damn these Scandinavian genes!
It is 3am and I can't sleep. Damn him for that too. I need to work tomorrow. I just should stop thinking about this, he isn't worth it. I have to be up in 3 hours. I hate my job. I should just get out of San Francisco. It is not like I can't be a bookstore barista anywhere.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
There are good days and bad ones. This was a bad one. Work sucked. I was exhausted from no sleep and the customers kept coming. I am so sick of hearing that latte machine.
Clara came over from the bookstore to the coffee shop today on a break right in the middle of the morning rush (as if we didn't have real customers to serve right now?!?) all bubbly and flushed like she had just been ridden long and hard and had the cross-eyed orgasm of her life that morning fucking my Eric.
Yeah, yeah, hon, I know. I was there once. It was me that used to fuck in the morning. What? Let me guess... Did he wake you with kisses while caressing your tits, playing with your nipples through your pajamas? Did you feel his hard cock pressing up against you? Have you ever had a cock that big, so thick that you could barely get your hand around it? Did he rip off your clothes and fuck your tits? Did he pull your head forward by your hair, and did you stick your tongue out to try to lick the tip of his cock with each thrusting appearance between your tits?
Did he then drive it deep into your little pussy and make it quiver as he pumped his thick cock in and out of you slippery hole? Did he have you screaming, begging him to not stop... begging him to fuck you harder? Did then pull it out and slap it against your clit to tease you? Did he plunge it back in, making you bite your lower lip with the intensity? Did he start thrusting faster and deeper?
And now, yes, he started talking dirty and raspy, didn't he? "Your tight little fucking pussy is so fucking hot! Does it like that, does it love fucking cock inside of it? Oh fuck yeah! I'm going to fucking cum!" And did he call you by my name? "Open your fucking mouth, Dax!" Did he pull out and make you finish him with your mouth? Did he? Huh? And you took it, didn't you, you little slut! He came in your mouth this morning! Did you flick the tip of his cock with your tongue at that instant, feeling it squirt into your mouth? Did you open your mouth to show him, just like he likes, just like I used to do, then let it slide out of onto those tits of yours, rubbing all over your body?
Or did you just make a squeamish face and swallow as quick as you could?
"Iced chai tea, pleeeease!" I caught a glimpse of the silver barbell on her tongue as she said it. Ooohhh! That little bitch! Teasing Eric's cock with her tongue ring until he couldn't hold back any longer... and now...it was as if she was saying, "Oh, be a dear, and get me something cold to wash this thick gooey mess down!"
I was so pissed... I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing, and the next thing I knew- and it was like slow motion now- I was handing her tea to her, and the lid popped off, the sides of the clear plastic cup collapsed, and the cup tipped forward... A brown tsunami of ice cubes flew out and splashed right onto the creased crevice of her exposed cleavage, sliding down into an ice dam against her shirt. It hung there for just an instant, and then disappeared down that dark abyss between her breasts like Moulin. Yeah, I spilled her iced chai all over her!
Really, it was an accident. Okay, so a happy accident. I was initially shocked and embarrassed, but when I saw all the ice go down her shirt, I was trying not to laugh... but I couldn't help it. That's what she gets for leaving so many unbuttoned buttons just to advertise her boobs to the world. Yes, Clara, everyone knows you have huge tits! Now go cool the fuck off! Haha! I guess she picked the wrong day to wear white- she looked like a spring break college student in a wet T-shirt contest- the soaked fabric and streaks of wet brown hair clinging to her hardening nipples. Gah. Really, there she is, everyday, prancing and bouncing around the bookstore, trying to tease the world with those girls of hers..."Oh, were you looking at these? Nice, huh? I bet you wish you could see the rest, huh?" Now I just gave everybody what they have been waiting to see.
I guess I shouldn't hate her. Though we both kind of worked in the same place for a few months (her, the bookstore, me, the coffee shop), I don't really know her, and I have to admit, writing what I wrote above, that I really liked fucking Eric, too. I miss him. I miss coming to work flushed, and feeling thoroughly fucked and completely slutty for the porn star sex we had. God yes, those were nice mornings. So I can't blame her for enjoying fucking him. It just sucks that now she gets the hot morning wakeup session and I don't anymore. And though I blame her for stealing him, she probably didn't even know we were together.
But, ugh, of course she is going to tell Eric, and then Eric will tell her about me, and I'll seem like a catty bitch that spilled her drink on her on purpose. I'm the bitch. Me?!? Okay, so maybe I am a little. And that makes me feel like crap. Because I'm sure she'll think I am so petty and now I will have this awkward war with her at work. Ah fuck, it is late again. I got to get to bed. I have to be up early again and work a fucking double shift. I couldn't say no to "Mr. Manager of the Month Mike" after he was so pissed at me for the scene I caused.
Shit, and tomorrow is Friday. I really have to try to find something to do. It has been a bad week and I don't want to be alone and miserable. I want to go dancing or drinking or something, but I don't feel like I know anybody. My whole life was wrapped up with Eric and his friends. It has been 3 months now, but I just can't seem to move on.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Fuck I am drunnnk. And horny. But it feels good. I don't wnat to be alene. I wish ... wish... she didn't have to go and tonight would never ever ever ever end. Mmmmmmm She is soooooo awesome and soooodefinietly baet beua beautiful!!! I can't belevie what happend today- but I ll have to wtire write more tomorw. I'm in teh mood for somethig else other than this journal rite now.
Saturday, July 9, 2012
Oh God on a toilet... Why did I drink so much last night? You'd think my Scandinavian genes would be good for something and allow me to handle alcohol better. First weekend off in forever, and now I am just going to sit around the house and recover. But it was worth it!
Yesterday started off rough. Double shift. Clara was glaring at me. I tried to apologize, but, it sounded false. It is too obvious of a story- I was a vengeful bitch, and was trying to get back at her for stealing my boyfriend. How do I apologize for something like that? How do I convince her it was an innocent accident? I was just watching the clock waiting for the day to end.
But then, right at closing, Estefani came in. I haven't seen her in like 5 years since we graduated college. She looked amazing! Some people just don't seem to age. She looks exactly like she did the day she sat down next to me the first day of creative writing class. Latinas! No fair! Haha! But how I missed her and it was so good to see her bright face and big smile. Now she has red and purple steaks in her hair. Crazy chica! I wish I had the guts to do something like that!
Funny, she didn't even recognize me at first. Well, I guess my hair is much, much longer now, and I had the lasik surgery so I don't have the glasses anymore. But when she realized who I was, me standing there speechless with my mouth open in shock, she exploded "Dagmar??? Oh my GOD!!! How is my Daxi?!?" It felt so good to hear "my Daxi" again!
She said I looked "so incredibly cute." I know she had to be lying; I was at the end of a 10 hour shift, in my fucking brown work uniform. I must have looked like a dried-up turd! That's how I felt at least. But she has a way of saying it that made me believe her. I love the way some people just make the room feel alive and she is like that. It was always that way. It didn't matter how down I felt, or how terrible my day, she always made me feel happy and warm inside.
She sensed that something was wrong (am I that obvious?), and so she dropped her plans for the night and demanded we go out for drinks. "Don't think I don't know you, even though it has been so many years. You're my Daxi and will always be! We were going to have a girls' night out, just you and me, and you are going to tell me all about it. We'll just let the boys eat their hearts out!"
What a relief to see her now, after the week I have had. And what a relief to have something to do on Friday night! But I had to go home and change first, and Stefi followed me to my place. I was so embarrassed for her to see what mess my place was. I have been too busy and depressed to care. I never really unpacked after moving out of the place I had with Eric.
Stefi is such a sweetheart- she even did my dishes and picked up my place while I was in the shower. I had to take a shower because I reeked of coffee, but it also gave me an excuse to shave my legs, and, what the hell, the rest too. I love the feeling of being smooth and clean. It is like being naked and free even under my clothes. And it felt good to be attractive again—yeah, to be fucking damn sexy again—I can't remember the last time I felt that way.
I really miss having a girlfriend like Stefi. How did I ever lose touch with her? We were such good friends! But when I moved to SF with Eric, I guess we just talked less and less and eventually lost touch. And she is still writing stuff, poetry, prose... even has a book coming out! She is SF to promote it and just happened to come into the coffee shop where I work. What are the odds? There are like a fucking million bookstore/coffee shops in SF! And I can't believe she has a book! Wow, and I have been wasting my time with this barista gig. I don't know why I stopped writing! Now I just keep this fucking journal and don't do anything creative anymore. But I should try to be more creative, and maybe this journal is a good place to start.
---