Heavens to Betsy Dear Readers, this has been
one strange and tiresome week for Ms. GD! I’m not sure I can get it all in but I’ll give it the old college try. First I’d like to give a shout out to my co-worker E to tha R to tha I to tha N to tha N for keeping a BIG smile on my face for the last week. Youz a crazy, horny ass, heifer girl!

Therefore, as one of my high school math teachers used to say in her thick Bengali accent, “We will begin at the begigning!”

The Wheels On My Car Don’t Go ‘Round And ‘Round

Damn you General Motors!

Losing ones car is tantamount to losing ones freedom and boy howdy am I feeling seriously on lock right now! I’m currently sharing a vehicle with Mama Diva while I shop for a new car and, well you know how I feel about Mama Diva so I won’t go into that. What I will go into is that I never realized just how much I was psychically linked to my car.

I got Eggbert (That's his name ‘cause he looks like an egg) in 2000 after learning that my Ex had willed it and most of his belongings to me before his death. The Ex and I had a tumultuous relationship but had managed to reconnect just before his death. So there I was, still mourning him when his parents advised me of the wonderful gift he’d given me. My life changed so dramatically after that that it’s difficult to remember what my life was like before. There was no place that was off limits to me (except for Vidor, Santa Fe and certain parts of Pasadena but that’s another story). But more importantly I felt that my Ex was always with me and this helped me tremendously with the mourning process.

I remember driving home from the mechanic's shop after he’d informed me how much it would cost to repair Eggbert (which, sadly enough, was more than little Eggie is worth) thinking that this was it, my connection to the Ex was gone and I started to cry a little but then I thought how silly that was. We meant so much more to each other than a few tons of metal! The very fact that he left his belongings to me and that six years later I’m still thinking about him and loving him proves that.

So I will endure the high pressure sales tactics from slimy car salesmen (no offense to my Dear Readers who are slimy car salesmen) and I will think of the gift my Ex gave me and know that he is part of the reason that I am the person I am today.

Erotic Airplane Interludes And Children of the Lightly Salted Popcorn

And so it would make all the sense in the world that while I’m pondering my place in the universe I would have to hop a plane to Cali with Mama Diva so we could be a part of my niece’s debutant ball festivities. I hadn’t been to Cali in two years so I was actually excited about going. I wasn’t as excited about having to don a formal when I got there but these are the sacrifices we make for our loved ones right?

Because Mama Diva has trouble walking we got priority boarding and let me just say Dear Readers, this is the best way to fly! If you can get an Oldie But Goodie to travel with you I suggest you do. Traveling with the elderly or disabled might seem like a chore but it really is a pleasure. You are whisked through security and sometimes you even get to ride, not walk, through the airport on one of those golf carts. Excellent!

I know what you’re thinking, “We could care less about old people; get to the ‘erotic’ part”! OK then but I just had to say that if it weren’t for Mama Diva I never would have met the hottest guy I’ve ever met!

Okay so I was sitting in the front of the plane and no one would sit next to me! Can you believe that a hundred people passed up the chance to sit at the front of a full airplane? Two empty seats with one fabulous Ms. GD in the third and still no takers? I didn’t believe it either Dear Readers but it happened and I started to feel less than adequate until he walked by:

Him: Are these seats taken?
GD: No and I don’t smell either.
Him: (laughing and quickly taking a seat) Well good and neither do I!
Mama Diva: (suitable embarrassed) Oh my Lord! I can’t believe she said that!
GD: (leaning over front seat and grinning like the Cheshire Cat) See Mama, this worked out better! A good lookin’ man sat next to me!
Mama Diva: (still suitable embarrassed) Oh my Lord!
Him: (chuckles then flashes ginormous and hideously sexy smile)
[laughter and giggles from rest of plane]

As Grady on Sanford and Son would say, Good Googlie Goo! You say you want stats? Okay then, here we go:

Name: Casey
Height: 6ft. +
Weight: Slim limie like Ms. GD like’em
Eyes: Warm Brown
Hair: Brown with very stylish blond highlights
Occupation: Carpenter specializing in custom cabinetry and moldings
Martial Status: Married to high school sweetheart/former model/hairdresser/wedding planner/Wonder Woman/President and CEO of General Electric/Neurosurgeon (Boo! Hiss!)

This was the very first time anyone had ever spoken more than two words to me on a plane and I was so excited! I mean I used to travel a lot by myself and no one so much as made a peep until the beauteous Casey ambled into my life! I was so excited! And then the other shoe dropped.

A family arrived late and the flight attendant asked if anyone would be willing to switch seats so the parents could sit with their children. Two people behind me kindly gave up their seats so the dad and the little boy could sit together. That meant the little girl sat between my beloved Casey and me! Boo! Hiss! Actually it wasn’t all bad. The little girl, Amirah, was a pip; every bit of seven years old with the ability to talk Bin Laden out of his cave. She was a very pretty little thing too; long, dark, wavy hair, pale skin with a patch of freckles on her nose, big, light brown eyes and an infectious laugh. She was also smitten with Casey but because she was a child she was able to grab, pet, stroke and rub him without fear of lawsuits and jail time.

I was forced to look on jealously as she held his hand under the pretense of arm wrestling, stroked his hair, poked his tummy, leaned on his shoulder and gazed lovingly into his eyes. And to Casey’s credit he was very patient. Not once did he lose his cool, which made me desire him all the more! So while Dad and Junior slept peacefully behind us, Casey and Ms. GD entertained the lovely Amirah until she talked herself to sleep. As she was doxing off she grabbed my jacket from my lap and wrapped herself up in it. She’d stretch and switch from Casey’s shoulder to mine. Every once and a while Mom would walk by to check on her but we told her not to worry that she was doing fine and she was.

After the little one was sound asleep, Hotsey and I were able to finish our grown folks conversation. He talked more about his inhuman wife and all her superhuman abilities while I tried not to gag. In fact, he pretty much told Ms. GD his entire life story from the time he was born up to the moment he got on the plane but I didn’t care. I just enjoyed watching his lips move even if I didn’t really care what was coming out of them.

After the plane landed we met up again in baggage claim. I was hoping that with the better lighting he wouldn’t be so drop dead gorgeous but it was not to be. The florescent lighting just made it more obvious that he’d stepped right out of a one of those black and white Calvin Klein ads. Sigh. Goodnight Casey the Carpenter…wherever you are…

The Debutant Dance Of [Intellectual]Death

I don’t get the whole debutante thang Dear Readers. It just seems so very white bread and out dated so imagine my astonishment when Brother Diva announced that his darling girl would be one. Ugh.

I tried to be happy for her but I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the uselessness of it all. Why, in the 21st Century, would a young woman need to be “introduced” to society? The very idea that there is a “society” that anyone would need to be introduced to smacks of elitism to Ms. GD. Can Wellesley, 2.3 children, a house in the suburbs, a republican husband and a Volvo station wagon be far behind?

The thought of upper middle class young women parading around in expensive gowns, bowing and ballroom dancing really just makes me want to projectile vomit but even modern, freethinking radicals like myself must learn to pack in our ideals and support our family even in the face of their misguided attempts to find meaning and a sense of belonging on this big blue ball we call planet earth.

And if anyone can find meaning and a sense of belonging it will be Niece Diva. What a beautiful and accomplished young lady she has become! With her 4.0 grade point average, strong work ethic and bodacious booty she will certainly go far in this world! Despite my concerns I was truly proud of her. Brother Diva and Sisterinlaw Diva have done a wonderful job raising her and she really has worked hard so if wearing a white gown and being recognized by her family and community for her academic, sporting (Oh yes, she’s a jock too!), and social accomplishments gives her a little ego boost them I am all for it! Kudos to you Niece Diva and three cheers on behalf of hardworking womankind everywhere – Hip Hip…Hurrah! Hip Hip…Hurrah! Hip Hip…Hurrah!

Still…debutants? Ms. GD can only pray that if she is blessed with female children they will aspire to something we can both be proud of like becoming Communists, starting an underground, radical political newspaper, grassroots community garden program to feed the hungry or even becoming a Madame of a multi-million dollar prostitution ring! Okay Ms. GD is only half kidding about that last one but while we’re on the subject of sex…


Sex and the Single Older Man

Most of my time in Cali was spent with the family but I did find time to sneak away to Pasadena so I could meet my friend Bill. Oh Bill. Dear Bill. Fifty + year old and fine as good French wine Bill. Damn you Bill!

I’ve known Bill for a while now. We talk on the phone and email each other and it’s all perfectly not innocent and very dirty but seriously Dear Readers, I didn’t think that anything would jump off when we met. As I’ve written before, sex is usually the last thing on my mind…well I mean the sex act is usually the last thing on my mind. Anyway, I drove to Bill’s apartment and when I saw him I had to catch my breath…Yowzer!

I knew Bill had a hot body but to see it up close and in person was almost more than a Ms. GD could handle! I had to have him! I was a wanton slut and I didn’t care who knew it! But alas Bill was too cool for school and me and he made me wait. Damn you Bill!

He made me wait while he did sit ups. He made me wait while he did push ups. He made me wait while he watched television! And then he made me wait some more while he did more push ups and sit ups! He only paid attention to me when I took my top off but of course he didn’t have any condoms so he said he’d just have to tease me and oh my did he! Damn you Bill!

[Sidebar: Just how fine is Bill? Well he’s about 5’11” (give or take), with lots of wavy dark hair, dimples, and an ass that no white man should have. I’m not kidding! I remember a while back I asked him if he had any black people in his family and he laughed and asked me why I’d asked him that. I told him it was because of that super duper ass! I swear it’s like he stole some 20 year old's body and grafted his head on to it! And you know how as we get older our skin loses elasticity? Not Bill! Oh and the kisses! He is such a good kisser! And I don’t even like to kiss!]

But back to the blog…

I wanted to stay the night and Bill wanted me to stay the night but I had to get back and Bill had some sort of bike race he needed to attend the next morning (He’s an avid cyclists which further explains the hot body) so I had to leave unsatisfied. Well, not completely unsatisfied. Magic Bill had managed to give me multiple orgasms without penetration but as is usually the case in these situations, three wasn’t enough. I wanted to fuck us both into oblivion but it was not to be. I took myself and my throbbing nether regions back to Northern Cali and eventually back home.

Damn you Bill!

My Lust Bit The Dust

I couldn’t have Bill (Damn him!) so I tried the next best thing – Young hotness. Last Monday had all the makings of a beautiful night of passion. One sexy young Frenchman? Check! Mama Diva still in Cali? Check! Horny Ms. GD? Check! Plenty of condoms and other sex paraphernalia? Check! So how did it all go so horribly wrong?

I think my young hotness was too young. Truth be told, the last time I fucked someone in their twenties I was also in my twenties and I don’t like to count that time anyway because we were both so inexperienced as to be practically virginal! Now I know every time can’t be earth shattering but while I expect a certain amount of plateauing over the years I didn’t expect full on regression!

It is inconceivable to me that someone so beautiful, with all the raw materials for a rollicking good time in the sack, could be so clueless! Who should I blame? His parents? And besides, I thought the French were supposed to be so good at making ze love? Ugh! So I suppose you want me to tell you exactly what happened? Fine then. Let’s start with the stats:

Name: Eric
Height: 6ft. +
Weight: Slim slimie like Ms. GD like’em
Eyes: Seductive Brown
Hair: Brown and close cropped
Occupation: Student
Martial Status: Single but apparently living the stereotypical French lifestyle in the U.S., that is to say, one “girlfriend”, a “mistress” and several random pieces of ass on the side

He came over and appeared to have an erection as soon as he saw me. So far so good right? I thought so too. Anyway we got to the bedroom and then he kissed me and it was one of the wettest, sloppiest, most disgusting kisses I’d had in a long time! This was the sort of kiss that initially made me stop kissing Dear Readers! But your Ms. GD soldiered on in search of the elusive orgasm. I finally get him naked and I was very pleased. More than pleased actually, delighted would be a good word. He had a swimmers build and a lovely cock. I let him slobber on me a little more just to get him in the mood then…action took place. No orgasm but I thought he’s young so I shouldn’t worry about premature ejaculation and besides, he’s young so he’ll be able to make up for it later. Right?

Dear, Dear Readers, I tried everything I knew how (And Ms. GD knows a lot) to get him erect again. I offered him back rubs; a shower together, a nap as well as more fellatio but he wouldn’t take it. After he’d put his clothes back on he informed me that he’d been fucking all weekend. In fact, he’d had sex just a few hours before he came to see me.

Can you say livid?

I wanted to stab him in the chest but I was just too damn exhausted from all the previous travel and all the shaving and exfoliating I’d done for his sorry ass! Oh and did I mention that it was only 9:20pm? He'd arrived at my place at 9pm.

And would you believe that for the next forty minutes me sat on my bed and talked to me. Yes you read that right – talked. I should have just told him to get the hell out and filed suit against him for breaking all the Booty Call Laws but I’m a nice person in spite of my best efforts to the contrary. Also, I kept hoping against hope that he’d be able to get it up again!

All Monsieur Eric was able to get up was my back especially since he appeared to be so stupid! Now normally a pretty yet stupid man wouldn’t bother me but this one did because he insisted on speaking when all I wanted was sex. For example, he looked at my night table and noticed my bottle of ID Lubricant. Can you believe he actually asked me what it was and what it’s used for? I was more than a little flummoxed as I stuttered a response! It took my explanation a while to sink in and when it did I swear I saw a lightbulb go off over his head! Then we wanted to know why I had a leather paddle and what it was used for. But the biggest WTF was when I noticed his swarthy appearance and asked him where his family was from, before they arrived in France. He became defensive and wanted to know why I wanted to know. Eventually he admitted that he didn’t know or wasn’t exactly sure.

This made me even more curious because he was so obviously not Anglo in appearance so I started throwing out names of countries in Africa and the Middle East. At first he claimed to not know what Algeria was but then he caught on and mentioned Tunisia and other French protectorates/colonies. Still I wasn’t getting anywhere so I asked him his last name. He gave me a typically French surname but then he added that "Ben" was also part of it. This made me sit up a bit because I know Ben means Son of in the Jewish community. Hmmm. He looks like an Israeli; he’s circumcised (unlike many Europeans) and his full surname is Ben ______? He’s Jewish then? So why wouldn’t he want to tell me? Did he think I’d kick him out of my bed? Well I wanted to kick him out of my bed but certainly not for being Jewish!

And fancy me meeting the one Jew who doesn’t want to talk about it? Maybe he isn’t a practicing Jew? No, even the non-practicing ones will admit it. Maybe it’s some sort of weird, self-loathing thing only European Jews have? Odd…very odd. Anyway, he finally got tired of flapping his gums and left. I was so tired I couldn’t even masturbate. I took a long, hot shower and fell into a blissfully, dreamless sleep.

It’s been difficult being left so damn horny with no one to comfort me but I’ve made it through. Lent is here and I’m so busy fasting and praying that my unscratched itch is slowly starting to fade. With any luck the memory of my adventure in Pasadena, CA and its aftermath will fade much like that itch. Sill a girl can't help but think…I wonder what Bill’s doing for Spring Break this year? - GD