Sleeping In My Car

It feels like all my Melbourne men are treating me like a leaper at the moment. Where’s the love? Re, attention? It’s not like they’re all married. And I’ve been having fun with one that’s definitely NOT married and who's gone on holidays yesterday and won’t be back until just before Christmas so there’s no way I’ll be seeing him until next year.

That’s right I’ll be having a Terry Christmas. If you can’t get it at home import the love! It’s such a drama him being here, more so now that my sister has moved back in. She’s lucky she’s got a job overseas starting in April so at least it’s not permanent. I don’t feel like I’ll ever get out of home. (“That’s up to you,” to parrot or paraphrase my psychologist. Para-parrot? It’s the gist. I try not to roll my eyes during our sessions).

Anyway back to my cheating ways. The aforementioned Man, I should say he’s a funny one. I’ve known him for some years now and he sometimes disappears. This last time that he’s been back in touch he’s actually become separated, maybe even divorced now. This hasn’t made doing it any easier though. He now lives with co-worker/friends. Three - how biblical and timely - Christians and a very “bad man.” Which means no sex at his place. Or at least that’s what he’s told me.

We have finally managed to have sex. In the car! I can’t believe it. I hate doing stuff in the car but it’s been our only option since he’s come back into my sex life. It’s been a really nice progression towards the sex. The few times he's been to my house (while still married – keep up!) we’ve just kissed and he’s rubbed my clit and gone down on me. (I suspect I gave him a blow job in return but I can’t actually remember). The fingering and kissing seemed to be enough. He enjoys my wet and informs me it’s practically a monsoon down there. He’s not the only man to say, “God you’re so (fucking) wet! I love it” And suggest it’s a bit overly wet. I have never needed lube before, (have it but used it once). Well as long as my stimulation is maintained I seem to be slippery enough. Which is useful considering how much men seem to like sticking their fingers inside me.

Yeah so anyway, it started with chatting/texting again and then he casually offered to pick me up after work. "We don’t have to do anything once we get there if you don’t want to." Well fuck of course I want to. You’re a good kisser, you claim I’m sexy and you’re driving me home, hooray!

So we go "parking" for a while and start kissing. Move to the back seat and REALLY start kissing. My top and bra come off first, as always, and I get him to lick my back. Which is my new favourite thing. We fool around for at least an hour and it feels sooo good. The spontaneity of it was fantastic and the fact I hadn't done anything sexual (with someone else) in months meant I was ripe for the picking. Too public (I felt) and not much room to have sex that night. We actually heard a couple having sex in the park attached to that car park. They came in their car after us and we thought oh shit we're not alone but they got out and went on their merry way.

Just under a fortnight later he offered to pick me up again and we ended up back in the car park. Same thing, although we went straight to the back seat that time. I was feeling even more aroused and braver so I was determined to take ALL my clothes off in the car. Managed to get him to take his shirt off. God what a hairy chest. I love that feeling against my breasts. We had a long kissing session as he held me in his arms and we just talked about some of the bondage stuff he's done before. I'm not sure I want to do that and there was a point when he said I might not be suited to it. I think because I'm too ticklish. I don't know. As I say it's not something I've really thought about. P.S. Last Friday I met up with someone (newish) who's also into bondage and he seemed to think I'd enjoy it. Well, sounded like he wouldn't mind trying it with me. I don't know.

We didn't have sex that second time. I got him to come - every time, ha! but yeah...actually I don't think we had condoms. Otherwise I would have given it a go. Third time's the charm. On the weekend at like 2 in the morning (on Sunday) we caught each other online and he asked to meet up. Sounded good to me! The car park we had been using is locked up at 1 am - we know that for a fact as we were asked to leave. Luckily we were dressed again and just chatting, still in the back seat but it could have been worse! So where to? Then he thought of a place in Ivanhoe. It think it was some sort of sport's field. Surrounded with enough trees too feel hidden. It was just a good thing they don't lock up over night. it was very good. We made the best of the space available. We did it missionary which surprised me. Seems a bit middle of the road for him. I imagined doggy to something more unusual for him. Then again there may not have been room. Considering how much I like my back licked and him grabbing on to my tits from behind it seemed the obvious position to have sex in. I got a bit daring and started biting his nipples. He liked that a lot. I'd do it again. Had it done to me on Friday. It is an interesting pain sensation. The more I kiss the more I feel like nipping and biting lips. Amy you animal!

Christmas Gift Ideas

No not really. I don’t have any ideas of what to get men as presents at any time of the year. I’ve never given anyone (and that would be Terry in this case) a blowjob for Christmas. I can’t remember if we had sex at all last year – on the day I mean! It was my first full day staying up there and I know I was a bit homesick. I rang about three times.

I think I know a few men who'd appreciate oral sex from me on Christmas Day but I don't drive so I can't make the Christmas rounds. How much cock can I stuff in my mouth before the lead up to Christmas do you reckon? I think three would be a good number to aim for. Three Wise Men, give it a Christmas feel. (Feel me up for Christmas!)

I’m very funny about Christmas. I love the build up even though I know it’s one of the biggest let downs of the year. I guess because your family doesn't change just because it is Christmas. The social gathering and dynamics don’t change much. And actually I prefer my family in small doses. Not the en masse event Christmas tends to be. A few cousins will be away this year but still. The numbers are not in my favour for feeling comfortable or like I can join in the group.

I love the lights – damn you daylight savings for limiting that aspect – and getting presents that I hope most people will like and having the annual Christmas/End of Year party with my friends that we started in high school. Cocktails is the "theme" this year. I can’t afford that. They can BYO I’m just getting white wine and perhaps one 6 pack of alcoh-pops. (I HATE that expression). Finger food seems easier than making a proper meal for everyone plus there may not be enough room to sit at our kitchen table. That’s just over a week to go and I haven’t thought much about it at all. I’m busy thinking about Christmas cards and getting things sent off in the next few days. God no wonder people don’t read my blog.

Merry Christmas one and all and to all a goodnight!

TGIF

Am I right or am I right?

This morning I wasn't really in the mood for work but I dragged my sorry arse in. I even ended up getting there early. It's now my seventh day on the job. And so far I've been stressing myself out over my anxiety to ask questions when I need assistance. It would be good if I could say my training just went out the window but that would mean I left training actually trained. If you knew how much I was freaking out during that. Like, I know it is okay to cry, but man in training in front of your team mates it's just embarrassing! In my defence it was near the end of a very long day that had left me feeling steadily worse.

I closed an order tonight, and I think I did it as well as I could. :-) You'll have to excuse me this sounds like my therapy talking but I actually feel like I achieved something at work today. It did take the asking that I was too scared to do in the first place but I don't care. As long as I survive this, (six month contract), long enough to feel comfortable with what I am doing. I'm picking up little things from re-doing my work. And it's a bit easier asking for help now. I have been feeling guilty for wasting company time. (Which I would be doing right now if I hadn't closed that order; I'm technically free to do what I want as long as I look busy and don't look up porn on the Internet. To ease us into the job our daily target is one contract a day. After which is free time).

It's nice to be in a better mood. Fridays are good by nature but I'm feeling a bit better about myself at work. Not like last Friday when my joy sprang from the fact I was getting away from it because I didn't think I could cope another day.

Time To Go

I'm thinking of moving on. Getting rid of this blog and my other equally popular one Talk TV, which isn't about the highs and lows of being a transvestite. If it had been it may have really sparked some interest. A small but dedicated following! (Not much to ask).

It's not that I have anything against the idea of writing. In fact when I'm "in the zone" I really enjoy it. But blogging has NOT been what I was expecting, nay hoping, for.

My life's changed dramatically in the last two months so I don't even know if I want to continue writing under the loose headings I had in mind for either blog. There's been events in those past two months where I thought I could write something but if I didn't do it then and there it seemed to lose its meaning to me. So really now I'm just trying to think of a way to express myself that I find satisfying.

Job Hunting

Yes I've been at it again and yes it's depressing the shit out of me. I could also be premenstrual but I've been feeling shitty all week.

I came across this at work and yesterday found a copy of it online so I thought I'd share. Gotta laugh, eh? Or kill yourself. I'm not opposed to either of those options at the moment.

Write Where It Hurts

Just so you know I wrote this a while ago possibly on a tram on the way home from work of a morning. Also I was inspired by the antisocial teen cartoon Daria. (For those of you not in the know). 

Forget the talking cure or I don't like the talking cure. I much prefer the writing cure. I hate talking about myself but I don't mind writing about myself. Either way I usually feel like I can't accurately explain how I feel.
I notice I try to put some context in my blog writing but feel the detail gets boring. It has that, "You had to be there" feeling without inspiring envy that you weren't.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who writes like that, especially in the bloggersphere. And if I was less hard on myself I'd see there is something enjoyable and vicarious in reading good blogs. I thought I'd be more popular than this. And it shits me that I'm not. After all the praise I've had about my writing from teachers and friends. Dear Blog, I expected way too much from you.
Sex sells, so I tried sexing it up, hence this second blog. But maybe I need to keep it real; write where it hurts.
I have thought about going back to therapy and Leo. I'm worried about not being able to get back in and that's putting me off a bit. Silly I know. I'll get through that then worry it'll be exactly the same with me clamming up and painfully sobbing. So why bother you may ask? Well I know I'm not happy with myself or my life. Leo knows it too, "It can be better Amy." he sounded convinced and sincere even to my cynical ears.

Make Up The Breakup

I broke up with my therapist yesterday. As much as I tended to disliked therapy it still feels traumatic walking away from it. Like it always does. I guess the only other example I can give is when I left cleaning the first time. I hated it so much but I cried on the street when I left to catch my tram home. It was a giant leap into the unknown and hence I understand why it felt so dramatic, not to mention terrifying, for me. I can only speculate as to what is distressing me about walking away from therapy.
My therapist suggested I tell my GP that I have decided to stop going to see him. I managed to do that this morning. I thought she'd be a bit more, I don't know. I don't want to say she should have pushed me to give it a second chance but it feels like they both should have. She seemed so proud of me when I first started going, seeing as I was so hesitant at times about the whole process. I've said to her and the two therapists I've seen "I don't know what to say." I don't know what to expect and I feel like I don't get how it works. The last few sessions he said to me, "This is your time Amy" and constantly reassured me that I can say anything I want. But I don't feel comfortable talking about myself generally and the relationship is too one-sided. I'm proud I actually told him that's how I felt, and he agreed but....shit! It just wasn't working for me. That upset me a lot yesterday too. If therapy doesn't work then what will? I can't tell if the drugs make any difference and I know I'm not happy but what the fuck am I supposed to do now? When I told my mum she said, "You're not going to do anything stupid are you?" When I established she meant kill myself I told her I didn't think it was stupid. But no, I don't think I'll kill myself over therapy. Not when there are so many other upsetting things in my life to push me over the edge! [And it really is MY life that I hate. For the most part I'm not against Life].
I am too indecisive. There have been many occasions when I wanted a situation to change but I couldn't do anything about it. That is to say, I didn't know how to, or I was too scared to. The example that comes to mind was when I started high school in the UK, about a year earlier than we do in Australia. I had no idea what was going on and I just couldn't cope with any of it. I lied about doing homework and I was being bullied by older boys. The few girls from primary school that went with me seemed to be making new friends and coping well. I was a complete mess. So much so that I developed a disgusting stress reaction on my hands that made all the skin peel off. The thing that got me through was knowing we would be returning to Melbourne soon so my dad could take part in the elections up in Papua New Guinea. (He didn't win, that time). Although I eventually made friends here and was more than capable at keeping up with the school work - it was just boring a lot of the time - I couldn't wait to get out of Australia. My fingers were crossed hoping my dad would get another posting so we could leave again. We did after four years but the move was to Seoul, South Korea. I knew I wasn't going to like it there, even though I lied to myself that I was happy to be living overseas again. It was horrible. My point is I don't take control of my life. Or I don't like to.
It looks like I've broken up with Terry as well. Either way I don't feel a sense of relief. At least not a complete one. I know it will never be over with Terry. He has been anticipating an end to the sexual relationship possibly since the start. The way he tells it I'll meet someone more age appropriate and settle down but there willalways be a friendship and connection between us. The only part I like about this is us still being friends. There are times when I find Terry extremely selfish putting forward this "plan." He can have me till he dies - fuck, deal with that one Amy! - or I move on. I don't think I really want that. I don't need a placeholder. Maybe I'm a slut but I like the relationships I've developed with other men. I'm not thrilled that they tend to be married but now I've experienced a bit of a relationship it seems that being a bit on the side suits me better. Originally it really upset me that Terry would want me like this. I don't want him to be my practice partner. I don't want to think of him dying either. It's the same problem from day one when we met online: the bloody age gap! How could I not be a bitch if I abandoned him when things got too difficult or gross? (That is if I had to care for him as he grew older. And what if we did have kids? I don't want to be caring for people at the two extremes of life. He doesn't want that for me either but if we have a full, living together relationship then how could I ever leave based on him getting older and needing care? Fuck! I feel damned if I do, damned if I don't).

I don't think any of this is over. However our time is up.

Oh Deer!

I was pretty excited about this weekend. The Old Man was going to drive down from NSW to stay with me at my place for about ten nights. (My mum’s gone overseas to explore the Wild West – wish I could have gone too but I’ve had no steady work since the end of June. So while she’s in America we thought it would be a good time for him to visit). He went to bed early last night so we didn’t talk before bed like we usually do. He’s mad, choosing to drive down each time he sees me in Melbourne but he says he doesn’t mind and I agree that it is easier having a car when we’re together. He’s a tradie so he’s used to getting up early but today he was on his way at 3 in the morning. I wasn’t even awake for my “midnight” pee until sometime after 4 am.


I woke up properly around 8.30ish. I could hear the beep of the answering machine in the kitchen. I hadn’t realised I’d left it on. Our phone is so annoying, you can’t hear it ring from my room but you can hear the beep of a missed call. I assumed it was The Old Man with an update on his progress. By that time of day he should have made some decent time. So I didn’t bother getting up to check the machine. I lay there lazily thinking about being with him.

That is a pretty good depiction of how we do it. (Minus the glasses).

I even decided to have a wank with the help of my vibrator, in dildo mode, and one of my gay short story collections. (Gay and Lesbian porn does it for me because they describe oral so well. It’s my thing so I like hearing about it from both sides of the experience. Both sources do a wonderful job). Thinking I’ll be getting the real thing later today, with some “man-woman sex” thrown in. (That expression sticks in my mind from the coming out episode of Ellen. Very funny. Pity about her chat show.)


When I finally went to check the machine and turn my mobile on there was a surprising and disturbing message. He’d been in an accident so I called him right away. First off let me reassure you that he’s all right. His car on the other hand is a write off. He hit a deer. I mean of all the things you can imagine would you even think of that? Once I was reassured he was okay I said, “I didn’t even know we had deer in Australia.” Apparently there are some feral ones up around his part of the country. Why anyone introduced them here in the first place I have no idea. So now he’s waiting by the phone and trying to organise a new car and new travel plans. The last time he called it seemed fairly certain that if he got a new car we’d move the visit to next weekend.


We were going to have a get together tomorrow so he could get to know some of my friends and my sister a bit better. I’m going to have it anyway – I asked him if he’d mind and he said it was all right. I feel like having a bit of company. We won’t be able to next weekend because I’ve got two friends birthdays then. I’m going to dinner with a date wow! LOL. I’m actually a bit nervous about it, but it’s mostly the age difference. My friends aren’t rude though so I know it will be fine.


Annoyingly putting my sexual needs first also meant I missed a call from my mum letting me know she arrived safely and had gone to see the salt lake of Salt Lake City. She sounded well. I’m glad as she was a bit stressed out before the trip, travel anxiety I know how that goes.

Hanging On The Telephone

UPDATE: I have very, very mixed feelings about this work. I was convinced this morning that I would quit. I was writing my resignation email to kill time between calls. However things picked up and I ended up doing a bit of overtime talking to a man I had previously talked to. Although you get a code as an operator – smooth operator – that customers can I ask for so they can talk to you again, I don’t think that was the case today. I’ve been told building a client list is the best way to go but of course that takes time. Only two people have asked for my number so far.

I have to say after four shifts, (or 16 hours), in some ways it’s getting easier but if you break it down I’m still just idling by the phone for the majority of the time. Give me time to sit and think on my own and only bad things can happen. And I now know you only get paid per minute of chat. And paid rather poorly I might add. Oh and paid monthly! I need money now. I thought this was going to be easy money, I was wrong. If things don’t change then the money really isn’t worth it.

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t have any more shifts scheduled. Apparently they work out a week’s worth on Sundays. I just want to get out of the house tomorrow! I plan to go to a movie and relax. Since starting my body has been very tense before and during my sessions. Is the anxiety worth it? Or the headaches? I doubt it. I'm slightly dreading a call from the “office.” It makes me wonder if I should just send that email now. Then say, “Didn’t you get my resignation?” At this stage I haven’t given them my bank details or an ABN. Let them keep the money I made them. It can’t be more than $50.