A Bad Man in a Bad Place

At her own blog, Elle writes:

"i havent had sex for a while. i want to be ravished. thrown down, as it were.

i often makethe claim that the majority of women want to be thown down and fucked (by their signifigant other that is) and not sexily and gently seduced.

i for one do not want to be seduced one bit. in fact it frustrates me and i hate it. do not gently stroke me. ever."

UPDATE: On reflection, I left a comment.

That ain't first date stuff right there.

Don't get me wrong, that's my instinct, seeing the number of women that became crazed sex kittens as soon as I was a little dominant and rough with them, but there's a definite fear that it will seem like a rape. Even if it's consensual, unless you've discussed it, that's quite a boundary to leap.

Ladies - it is incumbent upon _you_ to make clear to _us_ that you like it rough and raw and primal. Many guys would _love_ the opportunity to just take you hard, from behind, with a hand on your throat and the other with a handful of your hair. They just want to be sure it's what you want, too.

Man, I sound like Doctor Laura preaching about "you have to communicate with your man" but it's true. Otherwise, we're afraid that boys in blue will take us somewhere where we get the from-behind-hand-on-throat-treatment, but not in a fun way.

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FrenchKitty's man asked me about my approach game last night, and told me that I just had to go out and do it.

And he's right.

What's odd (to me) is that lately, I have been. I've been talking to everyone. Men or women. In the elevator, on the bus, on the street, in bars, wherever. If they're in proximity, and I have something to say, I just say it - no more panic, no more "waiting for the exact right moment" no more anything.

And you know what?

It feels damn good.

Not that I've done anything so brazen as approached someone cold and taken them home that night, but even just having that skill, the skill by which it's just "get into the group and start talking," just having that is tremendous.

I promise to use my power for good, not evil.
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I am now formally soliciting bids for the design and implementation of badmanbadplace.com, and banner ads/buttons for it. I have one (good) offer so far, but I want to make sure that it's open to the world.

I think, at this stage, I'm going to use Moveable Type version 3. I can be convinced otherwise.

I will be hosting on hostingmatters.com.
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I am hungover.

Last night I went out with FrenchKitty and two of her friends. I met her boyfriend. I had no idea her friends were so hot.

I drank way too much, saw the movie The Village (GO SEE IT!! Do _NOT_ let anyone tell you anything about the damn thing, it's twisty in a way I'd've never imagined), and watched as the rest of the party left me to go to Cielo. Not in that order.

I am beat. I have things to report about a 19 year old girl, but I'm too tired to write them, and I'm at work again. On a beautiful saturday.

All I want to do is rollerblade, go to PS1, and fuck. And all I get to do is work. Go ahead, play me the world's smallest violin while I cry into my bank account.

I promise you that I'll write more for you when this fucking hangover abates, and when work does, too.
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At her own blog, Eden writes:

"Recently, I was out after work with some people from the office, standing with a group of older women and sipping my beer, when a man actually came to an abrupt stop a few feet away and stared at me with a slight smile. He then walked past to the bar, looking back several times.

'Does that guy think he knows you?' asked one of the women at my side.

'Well, it's the most obvious check out I've gotten in a while,' I conceded.

He continued to look over as we talked. I kept myself angled so he could see me and made eye contact a few times, holding it longer and longer. He was quite attractive -- caramel skin, a mop of curly hair, bold features, intense eyes, and a nice body.

Being in a pack of co-workers, I couldn't easily approach him. He finished his beer, lingered for a few minutes, then started to leave. He stopped near the door and looked back. I met his gaze and smiled with lowered eyelids, thinking, 'Now's your last chance, buddy, at least pass me your number!' Instead, he paused, then walked out. I saw him standing on the sidewalk and staring at me through the window, but when we left a few minutes later, he was gone.

Such a shame. If he had passed me his number -- or better, a note with his number -- he would have been guaranteed a date and probably more. I was in business clothes and surprised at being scoped in the first place (his first view of me, from the rear, must have looked like a rectangle with legs and long hair). I wish I'd been able to break away from my group, but I couldn't risk having this particular team see me as a tramp. Damn."

Looking at the teenagers on the boardwalk, all dressed up with no one to really notice, I remembered being 14: parading in midriff-baring tops, along the boardwalk at night with my cousin, hoping that some cute Italian 14 year old boys would hit on us...invariably, the boys just stared, sitting on benches, trying to look cool while they snickered amongst themselves. I can't believe the fantasy I had in my head, of one of those prepubescent children having the balls to walk up to one of us, and ask in a gentlemanly way, "Hey, what's your name?" or even a simple, "Hi." Wait a minute...I still have that fantasy, but this time the boys are between the ages of 24-30. Still just staring and snickering.

Which is pretty ridiculous when you consider that what's waiting on the other side of the conversation is an adventure. Whether it's a reaction like Eden's (mmm yeah... let's have some fun...) or like FrenchKitty's (ummm... approach me you pathetic bastard) or even like Aleks got from a pair of "lesbians":

Niagara. I remember, a few years ago, meeting two women in the tiki lounge on the lower level, a blonde and a brunette, both of them striking amazons. Some guy was trying to wow them with silly magic tricks and, being all balls and no finesse, I blew up his game only to crash and burn myself.

The blonde⤁s name was Hogan, believe it or not. I made a joke about Hogan⤁s Heroes, a joke she didn⤁t appreciate in the least. Said she owned a motorcycle. I asked her about the size of her engine and she launched into a tirade about how she hated that line of inquiry. For a while my foot was lodged so firmly in my mouth I was only able to say, ⤦Mmmph? Mmmph!� Finally spat out my foot and asked the two girls how they knew each other. ⤦Oh, she takes care of me,� the brunette said, grabbing her girlfriend by the waist. I swallowed. ⤦You guys are way outta my league,� I said, and then slowly backed away.

When I was on the phone with him last night, I was in a car on the way home. I hopped out into the rain, and without thinking, said to a passing woman, "nice shoes!" She was wearing some cool sneakers that'd caught my eye. The sound of shock in his voice was pretty odd, since I hadn't thought about what I was doing.

"Did you just tell some girl she had nice shoes?"
"Yeah."
"Loud enough for her to hear?"
"Yeah."
"I never do that. Loud enough for her to hear? Really? Jesus."

I'd approached, because I hadn't thought about it. Similarly, on Sunday when I was with The Beauty, a cute woman sidled up to the bar with her even cuter friend, and I just started talking to them like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it is. We talked about the place, the bartender, and they invited me to salsa with them. I declined, as it was nearing 2 in the morning, but the offer was there. Just like getting dragged to go dancing at Webster Hall after I approached the three out of town girls. Just like being pulled in to dancing at Tribe when I started talking to women at the bar.

Men - just go talk to new people. It's an adventure - a treasure hunt. You never know what you'll get. You may get two girls giving you a fake name and telling you that they're lesbians. You could get asked to dance. You could find the woman you want to marry.

Women - don't just freakin' stand there assuming we know you want us to approach you. When you flip your hair? Yeah, that's not enough. You might have an itch. When you make eye contact? That may be enough for the bold, but for the rest, we (I am often included in this) often emulate slapstick comedy and assume you are staring at the guy behind me. Or the girl. A wink would be good. Approaching us yourself might be a bit much, but if I go to the bathroom and you happen to be there when I get there, well, that's easier too.

Really, though, this is for the guys. Look at FrenchKitty and Eden up there. Waiting for you to just say "hello." Get to it.
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I have a Stripper problem.

More accurately, Juan Carlos has a lack of a stripper problem.

He is in charge of Strippers for an upcoming bachelor party.

He's looked at Bella Donna (AKA Sasha Sweet & Wild Things, Inc.) and Candace and Erica. He liked those, but wanted options.

And then he asked me for advice.

Now, I explained to him that I've never been to a strip club. I've only seen a stripper in professional action once in my life, at a coed bachelor party, and I was totally underwhelmed. You can look but not touch? What's with that?

And when The Stripper (mine, not the bachelor party one) gave me a lap dance early in our relationship and pushed my hands away when I grabbed her hips, I got a look of puzzlement and then boredom, because, well, you can look but not touch? What's with that?

Now, if any of you know anything about hiring a NYC stripper, or strippers in New York, or hiring strippers for a bachelor party in New York, I'd appreciate a shout out. Feel free to post a comment here, or email me if you don't want to admit you frequent Legs Diamond.

Update: Juan Carlos adds

FYI - The Bachelor Party is in Queens. Jamaica Briarwood (not that it really matters all that much). And if I liked the strippers from those sites I wouldn't need more. Anyway, we rented a bar, have a private room and need something for an hour or so. Fun and crazy but not looking for hookers.

Thanks all

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I emailed The Groupie just now, since I saw her briefly on Sunday, and when she saw me in a tank top, she said "woah."

When I saw you yesterday, (and this is for a potential post, which is why I ask) you looked at my arm and went "woah." Was that about my arm, or the big scratches on it?

If it was about the arm itself, I'm writing that up, because I just
got back from the gym, looked at my arm in the mirror, and went
"woah."

oh, well, i was commenting on the scratches, hehehe, but you ARE looking very buff these days.

Take that as a recommendation that, if you want to meet more people, and be generally happier, get your ass in shape. And ladies, I mean that literally.
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As a follow-up to our assistance of Perker, one of my readers, a woman, has a similar question:

My question to you is...how do I seduce A? What do I do? I'm dying to just run my hand over his crotch and lick my lips. But I can't come across as htough I do that sort of thing everyday. I want deep fucking Thursday night.

Experience taught me that that's wrong. A lot of guys talk a mean game, but when push comes to shove, a sexually aggressive woman scares many men. It's got that patina of "oh, you sleep around a lot? mmm you do this every night, don't you." There is still a sexual double standard at play - even if the "players" of the world are fucking dozens of girls each month - who are they fucking? These same women. It's silly. But I digress.

If a woman wants to seduce a man, and makes it seem like he's seducing her, well, that works. As I saw on another site: "make it ridiculously easy for him."

Let him talk about himself, and let it seem like he's leading you where he wants to go, which is obviously to a bedroom, or maybe a bathroom in a bar, or wherever it is.

Make it obvious that you want to be touched - lean in too close, but not so close you're all over him. Touch him sporadically (arm, thigh) but not too much.

Make it absurdly easy for him to kiss you. Look at his mouth, then his eyes, then his mouth. Think about how good kissing him will feel and see what your body does.

BEWARE: You can scare a guy off by seeming too "easy." I've had that happen to me (witness the ex-TV producer who was talking about Tequilla shots, topless bar-dancing, and going back to my place before I'd even laid a hand on her).

If the venue is close to your house, ask him to walk you home for a goodnight kiss. I'm not sure if that'll work, but it always works when I do it. Different for a woman. Maybe ask if he wants to walk you home. Either way.

Anyone else have any advice for this reader?

UPDATE: My reader wants to add the following details, and I think she's totally right, they very much matter. This isn't a date, this is a seduction.

The guy in question is someone I'm doing an event with here in the city. I
don't for him or with him, but his venue is sponsoring my company's event. How do I get him to A) Not worry about crossing the line and B) Give me the green light to try and seduce him? We aren't dating or romantically involved. He's single and unattached. How do I know if he's interested? Note: I do not work with or for him.

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I'm only going to address this subject once, although it's come up over and over again. Christan put the finest point on it, so I'll address her. If you want to skip over this meta-level discussion about what I say and whether I censor myself, and skip straight to this weekend's report, click here.

Christan writes:

Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't the original concept behind this blog that we were getting a voyeur's look at the sexual/emotional activity of an anonymous erotically charged male? Wasn't it the anonymity that was the hook? We don't know you, you don't know us, we don't know your lovers and they don't know about the blog?

I was under the assumption that the anonymity was
what allowed you to be brutally honest and graphic in your writings. It was the reality of the entries that made them intriguing.

The anonymity is intended to protect some of the people I dated early on when this was a previous website, and I hadn't discussed with them that I write here. Now, I tell everyone I get involved with that I write, although I don't tell them where unless they press. If a woman says "don't write about me" I respect that. I often try to convince her that she should let me, but sometimes women are adamant about it. I can, and do, respect that.

To ask that I don't is to ask that I put the anonymous hordes above the people that I date, that's just not going to happen.

Your first mentions of Princess were sexual innature. You wrote of her as if she were a sexual playmate. Yet in the next blog you do a 180 degree turn and write her as an emotional partner as well. Which would be fine if we-the readers-weren't alerted to the fact that she now reads the blog. How do we know that you aren't tempering certain entries to appeal to the women you are currently involved with? This, and external ecommunications that you and I have had, all brings a level of inconsistency to your writing.

I've also met FrenchKitty, who used to comment more than she does now, but she reads, and we've met. Should you be concerned that I temper it for her? Or RSD, who is one of my closest friends? I don't temper our conversations when I report them, even when one of us looks like an idiot. Or TaiChi? He reads too. And The Groupie, The Fox, and The Phoenix have all read at some point. And they've read about themselves. And if they have an issue with something that's said, they take it up with me, but they know what's going on here.

There are two choices that I give people. Either I write about you with free reign, or I don't write about you at all. Most people choose the former.

I don't temper my writing to suit anybody other than me. That's just not my style. If Princess doesn't like what she reads, I'll catch hell for it, and you'll find out about that. If she does, I'll get laid, and you'll find out about it, too. Unless I don't tell you, in which case, you'll never know.

Capisce, all of you? If the blog doesn't live up to your (and that's any of you...) expectations, there's a blogroll over there full of other good blogs. If it does, keep reading, my bones tell me it's only going to get better from here.

If I were to worry about what you think about my writing the way you seem to worry about what will happen with Princess reading my writing, I'd be all tied up in knots. I could avoid writing this response, because I know it will offend some of you, but then, I should write it to make my position clear. Oh no, moral dilemma! what to choose? Oh - wait. Choose what I want to do, as always. Take this post as a personal promise that whatever I decide to write about, I'll write about, just like always.

Note - this is the last time I will address this topic. Feel free to comment as you wish, but I will not be revisiting this issue.
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Like I needed that Tequilla shot?

Went to see The Beauty just now, because she bartends on Sundays and it's sort of a touchstone for my week. I go there, we talk about dating, and I drink. Salsa dancing comes on, beautiful women who like to shake their asses show up, I lament my lack of Salsa abilities and my obligation to go to work in the morning, and I go home. This week, our topic of conversation was smothering, as in, her new German boyfriend, who she adores and has had for three weeks, is smothering her. Too much, too soon. Let that be a lesson to you all - even if you really like someone, make sure you give them ample space. Mind you, there is such a thing as too much space (I like seeing people more than once a week, but every single day in every free minute is too much) and this poor hapless German guy doesn't get it. She obviously likes him a lot, so I offered to sit him down and talk to him and explain what's up, but she declined, and just poured me more shots.

I didn't show up until 1 in the morning. Because I missed the F train out of Ft. Greene, where I was visiting Rock Star Designer. I'd met him at Moe's, where he was already well drunk, and I was a bit fucked up myself. We left there to get Cambodian food and watch Gone in 60 seconds. I think I prefer The Fast and The Furious, more car chases. But Robert Duvall, well, he's a bad motherfucker.

Leaving RSD's place at midnight, I got a whiff of the cool summer air, looked around, and recognized the neighborhood from a year earlier, when I started dating The Liberal. It was an interesting trip down memory lane, I could hear a few phrases she regularly said in my head.

Prior to seeing RSD, I was out with the 19 year old model girl. She has no nickname, yet, I'm not sure I'm going to see her again. At the end of our little get together, she went off and met her mom, who drove her home. Yeah, there's an age problem. Of course, when I met The Freshman, she was 19 too, so, there you go.

Right after that, Princess called to check and see if I was being a bad puppy. I told her that I hadn't sniffed anyone elses butt while she was a way. She was concerned that it was because she'd mentioned my staying out of trouble. It wasn't. It was because once in awhile even I need to take a rest.

She did mention that a lot of people just aren't wired to be with more than one person at the same time. I certainly am, although I've also been very happy with a girlfriend. I think more than anything else, I'm a happy person. But I digress.

At 1:30, Wing called me, incidentally, to tell me he was at Le Souk, and he was in a three set, and I should come meet him because he thought one of them was right up my alley. Sadly, I didn't get that message until just now.

Friday night I spent with The Freshman, watching old Will and Grace episodes, and being paralyzed from a really difficult week at work. Some nights, even I can't get up the energy to go out.

Saturday night I went with TaiChi to several parties, one at his friend's house, and one out at the Lunatarium in Brooklyn, which a friend was involved with. I'm just not a party person, and had to leave by one-ish.

It was a good, albeit quiet weekend. I avoided many of the women who wanted to see me (email from The Jaguar and BroadwayActress went unanswered, I skipped a party with The Virgin because I was liable to end up in her bed and wasn't up for that, and others...) because sometimes even I need a rest.

I've gotten my rest. I'm back now. Oooh... yeah... let's have some fun...
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Welcome Viewing the Local Antiquities to the blogroll. Erotica about one man's encounters with prostitutes. Very different than anything I've encountered before. Prostitution from the client's perspective. Not sure I love the writing, but it's _very_ different from what I'm used to. Take a look.

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Princess is away for the weekend. She left last night at 3:30 in the morning, leaving my apartment at 2:30.

What was odd was that she got there at 1, when I was already ripped to the tits after a really shitty day at work.

One thing I hate is when mistakes happen - not only on my watch, but because I was careless. This is the first one like it in over a year. I remember each and every one, because I get mortified, and more upset than even our clients do.

So after work, I went home and got absolutely wasted, and then to Tribe to get more wasted, where there was a wedding party full of Muffy and Buffy's from Connecticut. Or at least, that's how they looked. There was one beautiful woman there who looked a lot like The Fox, talking to a guy who looked like his blood ran totally blue. An odd scene.

The New Old Bartender was there, giving me shit about showing up at 11:30. And giving me tequilla to keep my night strong.

I stumbled home at 12:45, dejected because Princess hadn't called or text messaged, and we were supposed to see each other before her trip.

At 1, she called. She had just gotten off the train, which had been routed away from my stop. Damn you Bloomberg!

She got to my place, and brought me Cherry Pom juice. Because she's that cool.

We lay around for about an hour and a half, talking, making out a bit, me nodding off to sleep, and then she got up, gave me a kiss, I walked her to the door still naked, and sent her on her trip. She's away until Monday night at midnight. Cat's away, mouse may play.
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I can see that some of you are reading the archives. You know that comments are enabled all the way back there, too, right?

I mean, some of you like to read this whole last year (Sis and The Liberal, SouthernBelle, BodyOdorGirl, and The Buffalonian (with the jaguar tossed in for show..)) and some of you want to read the whole thing.

I know you've got comments. Feel free to leave 'em. I always track my comments.

This public service announcement has been brought to you by the Eric is really bored at work and is interested in what you have to say campaign.
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Was supposed to go out with FrenchKitty and Princess tonight. Got stuck at work instead. Figures.

Spoke with Princess on the phone briefly. She told me that rather than keeping me in her phone book under my name (which is a common name after all) she entered me as Bad Puppy.

I can only imagine her being out with friends, putting her phone down, and getting a call from me, and having to explain who the hell Bad Puppy is.
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Got a website? Add yourself and find out where you rank!

(Man do I feel geeky all of a sudden)

And if anyone wants to design a banner or a button or redesign this website, I'm down. I own badmanbadplace.com now, but I haven't moved there yet. Soon, soon.
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Got a website? Add yourself and find out where you rank!

(Man do I feel geeky all of a sudden)

And if anyone wants to design a banner or a button or redesign this website, I'm down. I own badmanbadplace.com now, but I haven't moved there yet. Soon, soon.
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Jagg writes:

Thank you for being one of the other guys who makes women say "sex is fun"

Too damn few of us.

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Last night I missed hanging out with one of my boys, in order to hang out with one of the girls.

At about the same time, RSD sent me an instant message asking me if I wanted to meet him for dinner where a buddy of his works, and FrenchKitty and I spoke on the phone, and she asked if I wanted to join her at L'il Frankie's for pizza.

I didn't want any food at all, I'd just eaten with Juan Carlos at work. However, I told both of them that I'd consider meeting them.

Out of the blue, a friend from college called to bitch me out for never calling her. Somehow, she managed to move to New York, not tell me, not give me her new numebr, and still get mad that I didn't call.

I met her on the street on first and Thirteenth. We gossiped for about 20 minutes (wait, she's having a BABY? And yeah, ex-best-friend still sucks ass) and I thought about the paucity of men in my life.

I then skipped out on dinner with RSD to meet FrenchKitty. The plan was a quick drink with FK and then off to meet RSD. That failed.

Our conversation turned, inevitably, to this blog, and to my readership and to my conception of reality. She chided me for not showing a full picture of myself here. I didn't have a response.

We talked about the fact that I only, really, have two guy friends at this point - TaiChi and RSD. I mean, there's also RugbyGuy and KungFu, but I never see them. There are others, too, but the only ones I see regularly are TaiChi and RSD. I used to have a best friend, but then his girlfriend got in the way.

When I say got in the way, that's a euphamism for "banned him from hanging out with me, to the best of my knowledge." One day we spoke every day, one day nothing. I got email from him three months after that asking if I knew any lawyers who could help him with Real Estate? After I replied, I received a never mind email saying that he was moving with the girl to Rhode Island. Subsequent emails have received single word or sentance replies.

I thought of him because my college friend complained about him to me. They were incredibly close for many years, and then she had a personal crisis, and called him. His response was that he couldn't talk on the phone because he had to get online to wait for his girlfriend. It was one of the saddest things I'd ever heard. My friend, heartbroken by circumstances way larger than she should have had to deal with, shot down by her close friend because his girlfriend doesn't like him talking to people from his prior life, before her.

So now I'm friends with RSD and TaiChi, and they're good influences on me, sort of yin and yang. RSD constantly makes me do head checks, particularly when I get overindulgent to myself or overanalytic or over anything. RSD is a big fucker, too, and he wears things with metal spikes on them (as Rock Stars can...) and he has a voice somewhere between a baritone and a pile of gravel. When the man talks, I listen. And he usually tells me to chill the fuck out.

Taichi is the opposite, always on the move, trying out new TaiChi movements, bouncing around, approaching everything he can, from people to situations to things, and encouraging me to come out of my shell more than I already have.

I guess Juan Carlos and my Boss count as guy friends, too, but I see them in a work context (and will continue to do so as I work with them) and will until I stop working with them.

After I finished with FrenchKitty and sent her on her way, I called RSD. I missed him, but he called me back. He was finishing dinner. I promised I'd see him next time.

When I got home, The Virgin and I IM'd about sex (why she didn't have it, how much she thinks she'd like it, that sort of thing) and I got IM'd by a cute stranger who read my real Friendster profile, and asked me out for Sunday brunch. Not as a date, she said. Not as a hookup, either. We'll see. I told her that she reminded me of a little sister, if I had a little sister.

UPDATE: French Kitty writes:

"Sent me on my way"? Hm...Wait and I invited you?
Au contraire...For the record, YOU were the one
who called ME.

Just so my readership doesn't think I'm one of
your playthings...darling.

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Friday night, Princess agreed to meet me at my place for our fourth date. Before she got there, I got a bit wasted with a coworker of mine, so the night was already off to a good start. When she came up the stairs, we just kissed, rather than playing cat and mouse like we did the other times she'd come over.

For all the debate about whether I'm a "bad Man" (as in a complete soulless asshole) or a "Bad Man" (as in "go on with your bad self") I'm still just a man. I still have moments where I get shy around pretty girls. The moments pass quickly, but I have those moments. Princess is a very pretty girl. The second time she came over, I went to kiss her as she got to my door, and failed. It took me several hours to give her a kiss that night. Now, not so much.

When she got up the stairs, we kissed, and made out a little. We left shortly thereafter to meet TaiChi at Loreley for dinner and drinks. Jager Schnitzel for me (I love me some schnitzel) and beer all around.

TaiChi's friend from Scotland was there, and he started hitting on Princess. TaiChi started hitting on Princess. I just sat and drank my beer.

TaiChi said things like "wow, you've got a really physical energy" and "you're really easy on the eyes, you know that?"

I smiled. Both things are true. Princess seemed happy for the attention, but wasn't about to reciprocate.

We were also sitting with TaiChi's two cute Spanish girls, one of which fell under the gaze of Princess, who later confided that she "had some sweet curves." Indeed.

Dinner proceeded uneventfully, we had some beers, had some laughs, and left for Tribe after the people at the next table became obnoxiously loud drunks.

When we got there, it was drinks for all of us, and soon after, TaiChi left with his Spanish girls. Princess and I had one more drink and went home at 3:30, to bed, too tired to fuck.

We woke up on Saturday and rectified that situation. Until around 4 in the afternoon, when we finally crawled outside, only to be caressed by the most magnificent weather I've seen in awhile. A quick stop at Chickpea for Falafel, and then off for some serious ass shaking at PS1.

Which Princess did, and I mostly did. That girl can dance. Yum. Something very hot about a sexy woman shaking her thing, and rubbing it on me. Like getting a lap dance without going to a strip club. She blissed out, I blissed out, ran into The Groupie briefly who was chemically blissed out, and generally had an awesome time.

Called TaiChi again, because we'd promised to do so the night before. Met for amazing Japanese at Lan. Fucking awesome. Left there to go watch a movie - we watched I Robot, which was boring as hell. We let TaiChi fade into the landscape of Manhattan, and walked by Grace Church on our way back to my place, in the insanely nice weather.

When we got home, we were in the mood to play, which we did. In the front door, a handful of hair in my hand, kisses, spanking, clothing coming off, stroking, playing, licking, fucking for a long while, and then stopping, as she giggled her way through a spanking. Cumming all over her, getting it in her eye, which caused a fresh fit of the giggles.

In the morning, more play, and by four, we were ready to get up and face the day again. Off to Cafe Charbon for brunch, where we talked about politics (a thing I never do...) and I told her about my amusement at the efforts of Protest Warrior, and their attempts to bring humor to the political Right. We had a good brunch, in that warm comfort that comes of newly discovered intimacy.

Off to Toys in Babeland, where we bought toys. She grabbed a flogger that was made of hard leather, and started brandishing it, until one of the women working there took it from her and explained that it was very rough and would hurt like a sonofabitch. Not the good hurting, the bad kind. Instead, we grabbed a slightly softer one, made of two pieces of leather, where the first one was solid but soft, and the second one had the letters "OUCH" cut out of it in reverse. If smacked hard enough, it leaves an "ouch" on an ass. We also grabbed some other toys and took them home to play.

I tied her down to the four corners of the bed, and stood back to appreciate her body. I put a blindfold on her, and then went away. Turned on some Drum 'n Bass, loud enough that it would cover my footsteps, and the game was afoot.

I came back and put something cold to her lips. "Open." She opened her mouth. "Drink." She drank the chilled vodka shot and I took the glass away. I left her again.

I came back with a shotglass full of Tequilla, which I dripped on her nipples and licked off. Then on her clitoris. And away again.

We managed to play around for about two hours before I felt the need to fuck her. Which I did. Long, deep strokes, punctuated by pulling out fully and licking her pussy. After awhile, I got more excited by the quivering of her body every time I licked her than I was by fucking her, so I stopped that and licked her to what was a screaming, full body shaking climax. I pulled off the condom and gave her a deep kiss. Pulled off her blindfold and gave her more kisses.

I sat down on her lap, with her still bound, and started pumping myself. I asked her where she would like it. She just grinned and told me it was my choice. I chose her mouth, and fucked it a little bit before I came, hard, into it. A little got on her face, and she started laughing even harder, since she'd told me not to do that, and it was the second time I did. She laughed about the fact that normally she gives the orders to men in her life, and that I refused to take them. I untied her as she told me this. Her giggles and smirks are absurdly charming.

Afterwards, we lay around for another half hour, in that pleasant cuddling mode that people fall into when they're tired and sated. She told me that her whole body was tingling, and that despite my asking for hints and tips on how to go down on a woman, she didn't think there was mcuh she could teach me, I was doing just fine.

At around 8, I suggested she stay one last night, leave early in the morning, and we could go have dinner. She chose to leave instead, since she had stuff to do at home. She promised, though, that she'd be back soon. Which is good, because I'm excited to see her again.
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I am exhausted from 48+ hours with Princess. We hit PS1, I Robot, dinners at Loreley and Lan...

I am quite happy and sated.

Yum.

I have tons to report but I'm way too exhausted at the moment. Highlights include two dinners with TaiChi (where he attempted to snake her from me as payback for what I did the other night. Lots of stories to tell. First, however, collapse in an exhausted and dehydrated ball on my bed for the evening.

One quickie before bed, and the rest tomorrow.

TaiChi was hitting on Princess as payback. I was cool with it, because, frankly, if it was successful, I wouldn't want to date her, and if it wasn't, well, it would be interesting to watch. Let him run his game and see what she does.

We were talking about the fact that I tie her up but she never ties me. That I'd hog-tied her on our third date, and that I was very much the dominant between the two of us.

"How is it that he manages to tie you up but you don't tie him" he asked.
"I just submit" she grinned, and fluttered her eyelashes a little. TaiChi laughed his infectuous laugh, a full body laugh, shook his head, and admitted that he couldn't do a damn thing to get between us.
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Two women sitting at the bar next to me at Tribe, and I'm by myself. You know the type - dressed for work - stylish and sexy at the same time. Tall, thin, one - a mid-20s blonde, the other a mid-30s redhead.
The redhead looked at me.

"What are you drinking?"
"XO."
"What's that?"
"Coffee flavored Tequilla."
"Can I try that?"
"Of course." I started to hand it to her. "Wait" I pulled it away. "Do you have cooties?" She started laughing and smiled. "Of course I don't have cooties. I'm cootie free."
"Ok, you can try it."
Her friend watched the entire exchange wide-eyed.
"Wow, that's good. Try mine."
"Ok... that tastes like ice tea crystals and beer. What the hell is that?"
"French Martini."
"I'm going to stick with mine."
"I kinda like yours too."
The younger blonde couldn't keep to herself anymore. "Can I try it?"
"Of course." Again... "Wait - do YOU have cooties?" She laughed. She didn't like it.

We struck up a conversation for about 10 minutes, until my date showed up in sexy white pants and sexier heels. She did, however, ask me not to write about her, so the rest of the night will remain a secret.

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Princess would all like you to know, that with regard to getting out of bondage tape:

For the record, I didn't use my teeth.

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Met TaiChi and his mother down in Chinatown at an authentic chinese restaraunt. The smell of fish and rotting food permeated the air as I walked up and called. "Where are you?" "Sitting inside at a table with my mom and some friends of my family."

Inside, TaiChi was waiting with his mother (I know where he got much of his personality from, now) and two 23 year old girls from Spain. Both very cute, both spoke little English.

After a few failed attempts to get them to drink and some failed attempts at conversation, they agreed that they'd come out with us on Friday when his mother wasn't around.

We left dinner and cabbed up to Tribe. The bartender and waitress stopped me to ask how the renovations were. I didn't notice them, but they're great.

TaiChi's nickname growing up, incidentally, was Sin Verguenza - Without Shame. This name was for his ability to walk up to anyone and start talking to them, an ability that I utterly lack.

When TaiChi and I sat down, I noticed a girl - BandanaGirl - sitting by herself, a glass of wine in front of her, and a bag next to her.

I'd taken TaiChi to Tribe to tell him about my recent exploits, and to debrief him a bit on what went wrong with his attempt to game the two Spanish girls.

After we ordered our drinks, I got up to use the bathroom briefly, and when I came back, he was talking to Bandanagirl. I stood behind him, not wanting to cause him any trouble in his attempted pickup, figuring he'd talk for 20 minutes, get her number, and turn back to our conversation.

Two reasons I thought that: First - it's an effective tactic - it shows he's got a life, and isn't just some horndog. Second - bros before hoes.

After thirty minutes, I was getting pissed off, and I think he sensed that I was about to pay my check and leave, because he introduced me. There was a seat between him and bandanagirl which he suggested I take. So, sitting between them, I got involved in the conversation.

Now remember - TaiChi is one of the greatest naturals I've ever seen - the guy actually loves people, and loves talking to them, and loves women. It's his Latin blood, maybe.

Either way, they were talking, and I was keeping mostly quiet. I knew that TaiChi figured decided that it was on, and I wasn't about to fuck up his game. After all, like I said - bros before hoes.

And then, I'm not sure when, something snapped in my head. I started messing with her the way I mess with all girls I'm flirting with. And I've told TaiChi my thing, and some of the things I've said to girls in the past, and he knew what he was getting into when he brought me in.

Bros before hoes? He spent 30 minutes with his back turned to me and then introduced me only when he remembered I was there. Fuck that.

He was dropping some crap about Joseph Campbell (the guy from the Hero with a thousand faces) and I just looked at him like "are you kidding? Talking Campbell with a drunk grad student in a bar? No no no, I'm not having any of this bullshit."

It was time to pull the rug out from under him and the coins from his eyes.

She said that she was going to give us the ten second version of Joseph Campbell. I cocked an eyebrow at her and mentally started grinning. This was going to be too easy.

I started counting on my fingers from one to ten. When I got to seven, she grabbed both of my hands and squeeled that I should stop counting. I asked her what her name was again.

She talked for a bit longer and then asked how we knew each other.

Now, I've known TaiChi for a long time. Since I was dating TheEvilOne - like, we go back a long long way.

So he knew what was coming next. I looked at him and asked if I should tell her the truth. His eyes went from "of course" to recognition that I was about to drop the hammer on his pickup. I may even have detected a whiff of fear that I was going to fuck things up for him.

"We used to work together." He visibly relaxed. The true story! "As Ass Models." She cracked up. His face fell. I smirked. After that, the conversation lasted a few more minutes, with her engaging in far more touching, him trying to reach across me to touch her, and me smirking and being my usual charming self.

A bachelorette party walked in. Obviously, BandanaGirl was drunk, because she started to chase down the party to see if she could play with them. She was in total stimulus-seeking mode. I wasn't, however, about to give it to her. I was exhausted, and sated, and have an appointment tomorrow morning at 9 AM.

She bounded to the other end of the bar to meet a guy who appeared to be writing poetry. TaiChi was getting pissed. Not only had I fucked up his pickup, but the girl was getting totally away. Not talking to either of us? That's just bad form!

He told me it was "time to leave. Don't even look at her as we go. And if she asks us to stay, don't."

"Dude" I said "that's stupid. Just have fun. If she asks us to stay - and we want to, lets. I'm going to bail soon. She's all yours - I don't want her. I'm tired. If anything, I'll spike her buying temperature and pawn her off on you." He looked at me like I was from Mars. Get a woman all hot and bothered and then pass her off? Who does that? Besides me, I mean. "Look, I'll tell her that I'm voting for Bush or something. That should get her onto you."

As we were leaving, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and said "nice to meet you." She started shaking my hand.

"So, I just moved to the nieghborhood - this is your local bar?"
"Yeah."
"Cool, I just moved in around the corner, I'll be back."
"Honey, I think you're so drunk you won't even remember where you were last night."
"Where do you live?"
"Around a different corner. Like I said, this is my local."
"I'll see you back here soon" she asked, seemingly hopefully.
"Probably." After the whole interchange, inches away from her face, she finally let me go.

I took TaiChi home and debriefed him on what happened. The Ass Model moment. The fact that I knew that he didn't want her that badly, and that it was just fun for him to talk, which is why I got involved. His mishap with the seating arrangements - I told him that I should never have been put between the two of them, instead, he should have had her move over one seat so that he was in the middle. He looked at me like I was a little too cereberal for his tastes, but also, inexplicably, correct.

And then we had a Darth Vader/Obi Wan moment. He looked at me with a new respect - surprised that the young buck was able to do what I'd done. I looked at him and smiled. "TaiChi - where once you were the teacher, I am the master now." I've never seen him laugh so hard. But he agreed.
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On my bed, bound hand to hand to ankle to ankle and back to hand again with rope from the monk, tied over her boots with her miniskirt still on, and blindfolded, I took her by the hair and guided her mouth to my cock, which she expertly began to suck. I asked her if she wanted me to guide her head with my hand and she moaned *mmhmm*. After a bit of that, I left her to her own devices, using only her sense of touch to suck me to a climax, swallowing every bit, and grinning afterwards.

Update:FrenchKitty suggests:

Eric- to be consistent, I recommend you include the nickname of the girl that goes with this entry.

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Welcome two new members of my blogroll:

BigXX: Not safe for work photos of people's girlfriends and wives
I have another side: Long time reader Exejebus' new blog.

Check 'em out.
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Perker, last seen getting advice from us (not royal us, I mean you readers and myself) reported back that our advice paid off in spades. And, to follow-up, he said:

gotta tell you...i enjoy reading the site...prior to reading this sort of stuff (yours, NLP, others) never believed it could be so easy to make stuff like this happen - my whole perspective on this has changed...

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Chris at Sex and the Single Girl writes, on blowjobs:

3. Don⤁t force it⤲Nothing is a bigger turn-off than feeling a guy⤁s hand on the back of your head. Let us find our way. Guiding us is fine, but pushing us is a no-no.

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Lots of things came to a head this weekend.

The wedding? So bad I don't want to even talk about it. Bottom shelf liquor and a total of three single girls to the 12 single boys. And 11 of the guys knew the three girls, and I didn't. There was not going to be an alpha-male pissing contest over girls I'm not attracted to. At least, if there was,I wasn't going to be involved.

The Freshman broke up with The Comedian. I felt bad for her, so I took her out drinking. She's such a beautiful sweet girl. The Comedian said to her "I'm a 35 year old man dating a 23 year old girl. How could this work?" I wanted to hit him. I get very protective of her, she's such a sweet thing. We went to The Beauty's bar to drink her troubles away, and The Beauty, since she'd been in a situation just like that recently, was super helpful and friendly and took care of The Freshman. The Beauty also introduced me to her new boyfriend. I liked him. He's part German. He was nice to The Freshman, so he got the thumbs up seal of approval. He also asked her how long we'd been dating, and she smiled and laughed and said "not for many years now." It's been almost four years.

The Buffalonian (remember her?? she's the one who won't be alone in a room with me for fear of hooking up again...) called me on Friday night.

"Hey."
"Hey baby, what's up?" I had no idea who it was - it's always easiest to just answer that way, it covers everyone.
"It's The Buffalonian."
"Oh! Hey darlin', long time no speak - I thought we weren't speaking..."
"I'm drunk dialing you, I hope that's not a problem."

It wasn't. We had a good conversation for about a half an hour, in which she invited me on a weekend trip with her to Vegas. Apparently, she missed me more than I thought she did.

The Jaguar has been emailing me again, asking, if we can't be lovers, can we at least be friends. For the last several months, since last time we last together, right after The Liberal and I split, she's been maintaining that she's been nearly virginal in her not dating other guys. Apparently, that came to an end this past month. She told me about three guys she'd fucked last month. I told her I didn't want anything to do with her because she's mercurial, some days in love with me, other days totally psycho. She finished her email with:

Anyhow, I need friends, don't you want to be my friend? Please. Don't hate me because I like you. You know I insult you because, you reject me.

The stalking part, really, was what set my teeth on edge. The calling-every-day, text messages and emails thing was weird when I was dating The Liberal. That and the roses she sent to me at work, with the Chippendales calendar and the card, complete with poem implying that I was coming out.

I made a new friend, another blogger, on Friday night, but I'm not sure where we stand about writing about that, so I'll have to talk to her about it and get back to you.

And last night, when I got home from being out with The Freshman, Girl IM'd again, to find out if I wanted to have a repeat performance of the blowjob-on-command. I told her no, that I needed my sleep. After all, as Katherine wrote:

Seriously Bad Man. How do you manage to function during the day after nights like that, where you're up till 6 am. I would be a total walking shell of a person and probably by 10 am would be in a toilet stall sleeping, with the alarm on my cell phone set.

You are clearly super human.

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Chris over at Sex and the Single Girl writes on one of the curses of nice-guys making friends with women that they're attracted to. I've had this problem before (witness my troubles in Rome) but not in the last few years.

Money Graf:

I⤁ve never been one to buy into the ⤦I don⤁t see you that way� line a guy gives to a female friend when the inevitable ⤦potential hook-up� moment comes along. If she⤁s attractive and they get along, then at one time or other he⤁s ⤦seen her that way.� It⤁s human nature. He⤁s probably even seen her that way from time to time when he⤁s been in the shower or getting ready to go to sleep�if you know what I mean. I think what really holds him back is that he knows he can⤁t get anything past her. Remember, because they⤁re friends, he has let her into his ⤦inner circle.� He⤁s told her about his moves, his pick-up lines, his stories, his excuses. She knows how he tends to promise to call a woman that he⤁s just had a one-night stand with�even though he knows he⤁ll never call her. By hooking up with a female friend, a guy knows he won⤁t be able to get away with things that a stranger would let him get away with. He gives up most of his control. In other words�she⤁s got him by the balls.

I don't like the whole friends-with-potential thing for the reasons she sets out above (inner circle, knows your game) but _also_ because I find it to be dishonest most of the time. Sometimes, people legitimately have hot friends that they don't want to fuck, and then later on, as they get to know each other, their attraction grows. When that happens, that's awesome. That's the stuff marriages should be made of, and that's all good. But I've seen WAY too many cases (and back in the day, I was that guy, too...) of men who make friends with some hot girl in order to try to ingratiate themselves to her, and eventually have her see just what a great guy she is, and because she's seen that, be attracted to him. Sadly, although this is logical (prove your worth, be a good friend, get the cookie) - I've never seen it work successfully that way.

More often, you see situations like this one The Jamaican told me about yesterday:

The Jamaican: no. i was spending a lot of time with my married guy friend, b/c he's fun to dance with
The Jamaican: and Chumpy who is my friend who i'm not attracted to
The Jamaican: roomie and i went to Chumpy's house and i smoked!
The Jamaican: i only had a little bit, then i passed out cold
The Jamaican: Chumpy woke me up, and i was like "where's my roommate"
Eric: cngratulations.
Eric: hey - if you want to get ass, you can't just hang with married and unattractive guys. embrace the ass, do not fear it.
The Jamaican: so yeah, Chumpy said i should go to bed with him so i made him give me pyjamas
Eric: did he try to give you the ass? or "tap dat ass" as they say?
The Jamaican: yes. he was kissing on me
Eric: hot.
Eric: did it work?
The Jamaican: i was like, dude, i'm ASLEEP
The Jamaican: its hot, get off me
Eric: oh. not hot. that's shitty.
The Jamaican: i know. i'm hope he's still my friend.

Of course, in my world, that's also a betrayal of trust, since he should have made his intentions clear, but still. (And before you all go crying date rape about Chumpy, The Jamaican told me she'd flirted with him earlier in the night, but that's what she does, she's a big flirt.)

Now, Mr. Sex is a bit less of a humanist than I am. And certainly less than Tess is. Of those girl "friends" with potential? He said:

give them your GARBAGE TIME! the thing is this. for some reason, chicks want to spend time with me. I don't know if it's humor or what. whatever it is, it is a simple tradeoff. I let them know that I don't spend time with girls I'm not sexing. if they ask me WHY... I tell them to think about if she had two choices of the exact same guy, but one has money and a yacht and a membership at the country club, but otherwise the exact same guy... who would she choose? she KNOWS she would choose the guy with more opportunity to show her a good time. so would I.

Now - I do have some girl friends who are hot that I've never slept with. The Fox, The Phoenix, others. Mostly, though, the girls I'm friends with are girls I've hooked up or slept with. Now - I'm not quite as mercenary as Mr. Sex is. (That's why SouthernBelle called me Mr. Big and not Mr. Sex) but his point is a reaction to the point made by Tess. It's not an either-or proposition, of course, but between giving my friends my off-peak times and being friends with girls that I really want to sleep with but am too cowardly to say anything to, I'll choose the former. Of course, the Pivot thing changes the equation slightly (I get to have my cake and eat it too - hang with my girl-friends and meet other girls) but that so rarely works out - my friends don't like helping me meet girls, they think I meet enough already.

It's complicated. I welcome your comments on this equation.
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Scarlett wants to know:

darlin', I want to know how she untied HERSELF. I mean, I don't need to know right this minute (unfortunately)..but that info will be useful to me.

How she got out? I'll ask her next time I see her, or if I see her online. If I were a betting man, I'd bet that she used her teeth, since I'd tied her hands in front of her, making it easy to escape.

And Scarlett - if you want practice, all you gotta do is come up to New York.
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Apparently, I've still go the ability to get blowjobs on command.

Last night was one of the more drunken in awhile. This whole "knowing bartenders" thing has turned out to be a horrible idea for my liver. And spleen. And head. Nothin personal to Scarlett or The Beauty, BestFriend'sExGirlfriend, Katja, The Old New Guy or any of the rest of you. Seriously. Please, though, mercy.

I hate that I'm about to do. I hate it when people talk about how much they had to drink. However - last night, I started drinking at 6. I had a tequilla at Rise bar at the Ritz downtown. Afterwards, I met TaiChi for two sake at LAN, and then we went somewhere else where I had a vodka on the rocks. I left there and went to Tribe for another vodka rocks, and a shot of tequilla. On to some place I barely remember getting to, much less its name, and then to Loreley to talk to Katja the bartender and have beer. Discovered what her sign is, and that her borefriend has the same sign. And she still remembers me from the first time I went there. I must be memorable.

I stumbled home with a slice of pizza at 2:30 and got on instant message. One of the girls I've been with was online. We started messaging.

2:45 AM
girl: Just getting in
girl: ?
Eric: YEP
girl: me too i'm waisted
Eric: and in desoparate need if a bloejb.
Eric: errr blowjjob
girl: you should have called when you had the chance i was in your neighborhood all night
girl: my friend lives around the corner from you
Eric: and th two of u wanted to give me a bkowjob?
girl: LOL no just me, she doesn't do that sort of thing
girl: what about your date
Eric: date feell through.
girl: oh sorry why
Eric: still need the blowjob.
girl: if i come by i might take advantage of you
Eric: if by advantage, you mean sucking me off, well, I'll survive that.
girl: i might i don't know i'm kinda waisted i'm crazy wehn like this
2:50 AM
Eric: so come suck me off.
Eric: rough blowjobs are good for you.
girl: it will take me about an hour to an hour and a half maybee even two hours at this time of night
girl: trains don't runm well
girl: at night
Eric: that's too long, I can masturbate in that time.
girl: i know that sucks you can masterbate till i get there
Eric: two hours is too long. 15 minutes is good
girl: well i don't know waht to do. I wanna fuck you
Eric: it's 3 bam.... i'm not waiyimbg
Eric: err waiting an hour.
girl: i don't know waht to do'
Eric: you're qall good. plus, you jave ur period.
girl: I know that suclks
girl: life suckls
Eric: hence blowjob.
Eric: think i'm gonna masturbate then bed.
girl: huh
2:55 AM
girl: ok well do you wanna reschedule or schedule for another time
Eric: we can wokr that out.
Eric: shame you can't come suck my cock rigth now. I think you;d like that.
girl: yeh i would '\ but even if i took a cab i wouldn't be there for 30 minutes or more
Eric: sad
girl: But i think you would like it cause i'm pretty damn good at blowjobs . maybee i can come blow you off before work tomarrow
girl: :-Dyeh i'm so fucked i probably wouldn't wake up int ime
Eric: if you wake up in t ime and want to, I got to work at 9. if you can be here by 8, you can blow me for an hour.
girl: will i get one of your amazing kisses
Eric: i bet you'd like the feel of my cock in your mouth.
Eric: yes, I'd kiss yuou before you sucked me off.
girl: awww thanks
girl: Your not so bad at the dirty talk either
Eric: dirty talk I can do. you want to be the filthy whor esucking my cock? I can do that.
girl: Yeh i'd like to put your cock and my mouth and suck till you explode
3:00 AM
girl: are you waisted right now
Eric: i bet u would. you want to swallow my cum, don't you.
girl: umm. yeh . I want to hear you cum. your sexy when you have an orgasm
Eric: you should be here now. I'd fuck your pussy and your mouth and you'd hear me cum as I caame alll over you.
girl: I think i just got wet
Eric: just grab you by the hair and fuck your face until I came.
Eric: cum in your face and in your mouth
Eric: so hard right now.
girl: yeh i'm really wet. What if you took a cab out here
Eric: i xdon'tt leave my bed.
girl: how come
girl: are you waisted
girl: too
Eric: wasted and horny.
girl: goddamn it!!!!
Eric: haard as a rock.
girl: are you touching it
Eric: yes
3:05 AM
girl: that's really hot
Eric: if you saw how hard i was, you'd beg me to fuck you.
girl: i'd ride
girl: you
Eric: you
Eric: would.
girl: hmhm
girl: hard
girl: and fast
Eric: i'd fuck up into you and come deep insideyioou/
girl: oh my god
Eric: should have come over when we first started discussing this. we'd be fucking now.