What Is A Relationship Supposed To Be Like?

So I was with this girl for 2 years and obviously I learned a lot, but what has me lost is what I thought relationships were supposed to be? I think I might have been too controlling, and I was wondering if it was wrong of me to basically treat it like we were married when we weren’t?

I always thought when you found someone special, even though there are loads of others in the world, you’d work at the relationship and commit to each other.

If I came across another person that made me feel something for them, out of respect and love for my partner I’d step away and keep distance with the person and go back to my partner. I’d consider my partner in my future decisions like career goals and if I moved, not expecting them to come with me or change their life around, but holding out the option.

I guess I’m just confused here as to what’s the point of being with people anymore? I guess it’s not to have a partner in crime, as opposed to just experiences of pain and holding back feelings and honesty and emotions. It’s fickle and fragile and even if they say they love you, they won’t sacrifice a damn thing for you.

But I shouldn’t expect them to right? So what shall I do? Should I not date anymore? Am I wrong now? I feel so silly for thinking and believing this way. Love is not a special emotion and an act of devotion and commitment? It’s not kindness and sacrifice and compromise?? It’s not honesty?? It’s an experience?

How do I prepare myself for a world of dating?? I hated my past relationships so much because I had to hold back every part of myself with them. I couldn’t trust them or love them. So what do I do now?

What are relationships supposed to be like? Is love more of an experience and not commitment? If you just date someone for the fun they bring you, and then toss them aside when it’s too hard and another opportunity arises, how do I prepare myself for a life like that?

 

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Cherie – Chapter 25 – Anything Goes

“Once she gets going, you only get a few hours of repose while the eye of Cherie’s hurricane passes over you. But then she returns. Gently caressing your back and arms. You slowly awaken, and the wind increases, and within a short time you are both back at it and the sex storm is back to full force.”

So last weekend, baby was sick and so was her son. She texted me that she wasn’t coming down Friday night because of all of that. She just couldn’t do it. I want her to be well, and I also don’t want to catch whatever she has. Oh, and it was also shark week. I swear this girl has more periods than a Hemingway novel!

So I was a little relieved that for the first time in a month, I could simply go home on a Friday night after working at the salon, and chill. I could sleep in, and take myself out to breakfast on Saturday. Nothing to do. Just quiet solitary bliss.

Which I got. So I figured that the next weekend, she’d be all better and I’d see her. But then I got a message from my buddy Duncan, that his flight was getting in on Friday of next week. There was no way I could be with Cherie. Duncan had made this plan and booked his flight eight months ago! Yea, that’s Duncan for you. (See: Duncan – Concetrated Dosage)

So I had to break the news to Cherie. I didn’t know what her reaction would be, but when I told her she understood and was totally cool with it. (I mean, she sort of had to accept it. There was nothing I could do.) But she seems really good at accepting disappointment. I’m sure she’s had enough of that in her short life. My daughter Lorelei is the same way. She lived with her mother for so long she became accepting that life would be full of grinding disappointments. But instead of resentment, these two Scorpios, just knuckled down and made themselves better people. They haven’t met yet, but when they finally do, I hope I remember to thank them both for that wonderful trait.

So this was going to be a three-week intimacy drought. I know that’s really hard on her. I’m used to not getting laid. I’m just happy to be once again having sex. So I decided I should at least take her out to lunch during the week so we could at least see each other.

We met on a Tuesday, at where else? Ruby Tuesday’s! I just realized that connection. It was really nice to see her, but the embers are always smoldering under the surface with us. That feeling that we want nothing more than to rip each others clothes off and tear each other apart. I’m looking at her across the table. She’s telling me some story, and I’m listening, but I’m just letting my eyes dance all over her. Her lovely face, full lips, her lovely skin. She’s wearing her hair down, but in a pony tail pulled to the side. She looks very collegiate with her official Temple I.D.

I want her. But I can’t have her. Not today. Not for another week and a half. She looks lovely today. I tell her every time I see her she becomes more beautiful. She’s grateful and sweet about it, but I can see in her dark eyes what she really desires.

Sometimes I think I like writing about the non-sexual encounters because there’s more to think about. The obvious and easy part of the relationship is just the collision of our bodies in a celebration of pulchritude, but sitting and breaking bread with her and not being “allowed” to be intimate, is somewhat titillating. The forbidden. The denied. I’m a very patient man. I can wait years for things to come to fruition. A week and a half won’t kill me, but to her, it’s making her crazy.

She tells me she thinks about sex with me all day, and it’s driving her crazy. I’ve never experienced a woman like this. I was always a hyper-sexual growing up, but I have truly met my match. Mine has settled with middle age, but the fires can still burn brightly when they are fanned. She says she’s a nymphomaniac, and the only thing stopping her from being a whore is self-respect, control, and loyalty.

All great qualities. Wow. It’s like I’m banging Storm from the X-Men or something. Because when the lightning strikes it is extremely powerful. And once she gets going, you only get a few hours of repose while the eye of Cherie’s hurricane passes over you. But then she returns. Gently caressing your back and arms. You slowly awaken, and the wind increases, and within a short time you are both back at it and the sex storm is back to full force.

I love it, and I love Cherie, but it’s like I’m in some sort of sexual training program. It’s funny… you really do have to be careful what you wish for. I remember reading this book that my ex-girlfriend Michelle once lent me. (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – A Brand New Day) It was called The Secret. I don’t know if this book was something that helped a lot of people but I do remember reading that if you think hard enough things that you want, and you do the right activities, you will actually start to ‘pull’ those things toward you. I started to do it back when I met Michelle, and it started to work.

But Cherie almost seems like a ‘reward’ of some kind. I’ve suffered at the hands of so many for so long, I was finally granted a reprieve from all of the bad drama and problems all of these women suffered from. Cherie was the perfect girl for me. Smart. getting her education. (Graduating next year) Hard worker. Doesn’t want anymore kids. I don’t see her all of the time, so I have my alone time. Super chill, zero drama chick. And of course, there’s the mad sexual appetite.

So we finish eating. We’ve brought each other up to date on what’s been happening in each others lives. I walk her to the train. She has to stop back at school, and then go to work over at CHOP. We’re sitting on a bench that’s a bit further away from the crowd on the platform. I get to steal a few kisses from my lovely lady. She even offers me her soft slender neck. I tell her I love her and she always returns the same.

We agree that another lunch next Tuesday should at least bridge the canyon of desire until next weekend.

“And when I do see you next weekend, and we’re together…”

“Yes, Cherie?”

“I want you to fuck me, and fuck me, and fuck me. Please promise. ”

She says this with all seriousness, like it is something she needs more than desires.

In ten days I’ll fulfill that wish.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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12 Things Mature Men Don’t Do

The thing is, few young people – and too few older people as well, I’m sad to say – don’t really know what it means to be a mature man. A truly mature man is a strong and confident individual, a diligent provider, passionate and caring lover, brave protector, problem solver, careful listener, a safe port in a storm and a friend you can depend on.

Being a confident individual who knows a thing or two about life, understands that others depend on him and has his priorities straight, a mature man will never exhibit behaviors associated with inexperienced, immature and weak people. Here are the things that mature men don’t do.

1. They don’t let fear keep them from achieving happiness and success

Fear – whether it be fear of failure, fear of being reprimanded or fear of being rejected – is something that keeps most men back. Living in fear means being docile and never seizing big opportunities, which can negatively impact your career, love life, interpersonal relationships and mental well-being. A mature man knows that fear is always present, but he knows who to deal with it.

He doesn’t hesitate to put himself out there and take some risks, particularly when the only consequence to taking an action will be a slightly bruised ego or a bit of discomfort. Mature men live on the very edge of their comfort zone and take frequent trips into the wilderness that lies beyond that edge.

2. They don’t go do things just to please others

You often see young guys who start working out to impress girls, men who read up on wine tasting or art just so others perceive them as classy, and you also have those who go out of their way to come across as smart, so that their boss and coworkers will respect them more. Mature men are not motivated by what others think – their actions are motivated by a sincere desire to improve, learn and develop in a direction that they themselves have chosen.

They train to be healthier and stronger, they read books and take classes to expand their knowledge and develop skills in areas that they find useful or interesting. In other words, they know who they are and what they want, and although they respect others’ opinions, they are only governed by what they believe is the best choice.

3. They don’t create an idealized image of a woman in their mind

Many relationships fall apart when immature men realize that the image of the ideal woman that they have put on a pedestal and have been admiring all this time doesn’t really sync up with reality. Many guys go from zealous admiration to misguided misogyny when their deluded expectations aren’t met by real women. Women are just like men – they have their strengths and weaknesses, admirable traits and forgivable faults, desires and fears. A mature man knows this and feels much more at ease with women, seeing them as his equal, and can thus develop sincere and healthy relationships.

4. They don’t get baffled by a woman’s words or actions

Even though mature men treat women as equals, they are aware of the simple fact that men and women are fairly different on a number of levels – e.g. from a biochemical, psychological and social standpoint. We are brought up differently and our brains are wired differently, and a mature man understands that women communicate, argue and are emotionally affected by things differently than men are.

This is why such a man is not easily baffled or angered by a woman’s words or actions, and is more than capable of seeing things from a different perspective and picking up on subtle cues – it’s not about mind reading, just about developing a deeper understanding of the female psyche and body language cues.

5. They don’t hold grudges

Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. – Buddha

Arguments will happen between family members, friends, lovers and coworkers, it is inevitable if you spend a lot of time with someone. However, a clear sign of maturity is the ability to cool off after an argument and let go of all the negative feelings. You will hear the phrases “I’m sorry,” “forgive me, I was wrong to do that,” “oh, just forget about it, it’s nothing, really,” and “water under the bridge” spoken by mature men, as they give and receive apologies and move on with their lives. Harboring resentment will poison your relationships and lead to unhappiness.

6. They don’t feel insecure about their appearance and style

Another big issue many men have is that they feel insecure about the way they look, dress and act. Insecurities lead to fear, anxiety and anger, which will negatively affect your life in many different ways. Insecure men are afraid to experiment with fashion as they don’t want to be considered feminine, and they don’t feel comfortable in their own shoes.

The world has evolved, and fashion sensibilities have drastically changed. There are a number of fashion accessories that can be worn by both sexes, and you don’t even have to sacrifice utility for style. A mature man is confident in his appearance and unique fashion sense, and doesn’t care about a few people disapproving or making negative comments.

7. They don’t distance themselves from their family

As the years go by and we mature, keeping strong family ties becomes more apparent. There are some instances where it is not possible for a family to stay close, but most of us can afford to spend a bit more time with our parents, relatives, wife, and kids. Quality family time strengthens bonds and a mature man sees himself as being part of a larger codependent group.

8. They don’t allow people to bully them

There is a difference between being confrontational and being assertive, and it is not something that immature guys really understand. Mature men have the self-respect, self-control and confidence to set and enforce boundaries – if others try to push too far and bully them, these men will stand their ground and project a strong dominant energy. They cannot be coerced into doing something that they don’t want to do, nor will they sit by and let someone walk all over them. There is no need for them to resort to violence or shouting in most cases, as they can solve problems by standing tall and speaking up for themselves in a strong stern voice.

9. They don’t moan and despair when faced with challenges

Defeatism and moaning are things that a mature man sees no need for, and has no time for. When faced with challenges this type of man will remain collected, even helping calm others and keeping their spirits up, and work on finding the right solution. Often sacrifices have to be made and plenty of hard work put into solving big problems, but this is not something that men should shy away from. It is a simple rule that these men abide by – either put forth a constructive solution or stay quiet until you can find one. This makes the people around them feel safe and stay positive.

10. They don’t see their job as something boring that they have to put up with

While some people just view their jobs as something they need to push through mindlessly, so that they can go home and do what they want, the mature way of going about it is to give your best at your job and look for opportunities to improve and take your career to the next level. Mature men realize that others depend on them, so their career is a very big priority. Constantly improving and striving to earn more so that you can provide for your loved ones and still be able to afford some luxuries that will make you happy – this is the goal that these men set for themselves.

11. They aren’t afraid to take action and make difficult decisions

There will be times in everyone’s life where hard decisions need to be made, and to overcome adversity you often need quick thinking and the ability to take action at the right moment. A mature man will make reservations in advance when he wants to take his date out, talk to his boss about a promotion opportunity, sit his friends down and talk them out of doing something stupid even if it means that they will get mad at him, put himself in danger to protect his loved ones or sacrifice his comfort to ensure their happiness. This doesn’t mean that mature men always know exactly what to do or have the ability to handle any situation, but they will try to the best of their ability to ensure a favorable outcome.

12. They don’t set unrealistic goals

Some people will often get disappointed and quit because they have set unrealistic goals for themselves, right from the start and are then unable to achieve them. An important aspect of maturity is being able to correctly gauge your capabilities and be honest with yourself, which allows mature men to set more realistic goals. They are patient enough to dedicate themselves to slowly making progress in the long run and understand that the ultimate goal isn’t attaining quick results, but sustainable results.

 

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Sun Stories: Ben – Gym Guy

“Let me put it this way to you Achilles…Our worst prison nightmare is a decent payday for Ben.”

Ben came to us as a guy who tanned at our salon. He was always talking to Achilles about all his business deals and things. I never trusted this guy, but Achilles always gives people a couple of chances.

We were building the fitness part of our business out on Walnut street to compliment the tanning salon. I think Ben saw an opportunity to insert himself into this opportunity and came on strong.

I never got a good vibe from him but Achilles gave him a chance. At first we thought we’d bring him as a trainer because he was a fitness guy. We gave him a trial and he actually did pretty good with some of the people who came in.

But there was always something about him that gave me a bad vibe. He’s been married a couple of times. The kids live here in Philly and he lives in DC. I asked Achilles what the guy did for a living and he said he was a party planner. Apparently he worked as a personal trainer at a gym, but also worked as a driver for escorts for bachelor parties. He also told us he worked as a stripper in his past life. This guy is 48 now and dyes his hair blonde. We know he’s on steroids because he has bitch tits and is always sniffing. I’m thinking that’s coke.

I’ve lived in LA and been in the music industry. I can spot a druggie a mile away. This guy’s a loser. I don’t want him to poison what Achilles and I are working on with this gym. But I can see him trying to. He’s trying to spend more time here and work at the salon.

I tell Achilles that when I’m here Ben can under not circumstances touch anything in the salon. I run this place. This causes me stress of this weird invader, but Achilles knowing that I’m his golden goose puts the kibosh on Ben.

We’re mired in a lawsuit with the fitness center upstairs and can’t even open our little place. We’ll settle that nonsense eventually and figure it out. I’m sure we’ll just do personal strength training and it will all fall away.

But I can’t shake my suspicion about Ben. I google the shit out of this parasite. I see he has worked as a male stripper. I watch the videos. It’s gross. I’ve met his 11-year-old daughter. She’s a lovely child. I’m sure she has no idea what her dad has done.

I’m a dad, I get it. We have kids, and we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. There are things I’ve done my daughter can never know. That’s just being and adult and being responsible. They never need to know certain things. We’ve all done things we’re not especially proud of, and we let them die in silence.

But everything is online now and kids could find things. I’m just glad that all of my evil never made it to the internet. Lorelei never needs to see that, and even if she did she wouldn’t be interested and wouldn’t even look because it would be gross. But thankfully there is nothing out there on me.

I never liked Ben and always got a weird vibe from him. I didn’t want Achilles to get sucked in by another asshole because I love the salon and like every company I worked for always protect the integrity of that company. It’s what professionals do. Achilles has never had an employee like me but I bring great power and a flurry of 5 star Yelp reviews.

When I was at the salon at night I kept googling him. I needed to dig. I found some things. He was arrested 10 years ago for not paying his child support. No problem. I feel you dude. That shit is expensive and ruins your life.You missed some payments and your ex is a fucking relentless monster. I get it. I was married to that kind of fucking asshole. A relentless harpy that just wants what’s coming to her. A lonely empty cunt that will never be happy. So that’s a pass from me brother.

But I keep digging because you are trying to infiltrate what I’m doing with my partner Achilles.

Achilles tells me you want to invest in the business and cut me out. Achilles immediately tells me about this conversation and it’s not happening buddy.

I continue digging.

I keep googling you and then I come across a name that isn’t you in my search. I plugged in your name, Ben, but there is a new name that comes up.

I click on the link and learn a whole new thing about you sneaky male stripper, Ben.

I find a different name and you’re a porn actor. Payday. Not only are you are a porn actor you only do gay porn. All you ever talk about is banging girls to Achilles and me.

I watched your video’s Ben. I’m able look into the darkness and see the light. I found what I was looking for about you. I don’t care if you’re gay or straight but I watched videos of you doing everything sexual with men. Only Men. No girls. That changes one’s perception. Does gay for pay pay more than straight porn?

I called Achilles and this was our conversation:

“Dude, I’ve been googling Ben and found something.”

“What?”

“Please do not look upon this because I care about you and you’re a good man and I consider you a friend,and I don’t want to hurt you”

“What is it?”

“Ben does hard-core gay porn all the time.”

“What the fuck?”

I’m not going to mention any names but just know this dude does gay porn and only gay porn. No chicks!”

“Fuck!”

“I really looked to see if there were any girls and there are none.”

“Shit”

“Let me put it this way to you Achilles. Our worst prison nightmare is a decent payday for Ben.”

Achilles lost his shit and laughed his ass off.

We don’t really work with Ben anymore.

As a side note, I lent Ben $20 and we haven’t seen him since. So that’s a blessing. It only cost me $20 to rid our salon of him.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am 12pm EST.

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Cherie – Chapter 23 – Friday the 13th

“It’s all I think about. I have to masturbate everyday, just to take the edge off. I need you to fuck me.”

It was obviously Friday the 13th. I wasn’t even aware of it all day, until Cherie text me about it that afternoon. I sent her a meme of Jason Voorhees pushing people as he walked down an escalator. Cherie loves horror movies, so I knew she’d enjoy that.

I blazed out of work around 2:30, and walked over to the salon, to work until 8pm.  The night was uneventful, but it had been a bit of a hectic week. Last weekend was full of social stuff and this week had its share of challenges.

I was just looking forward to stopping at the store and picking up my favorite pretzels, (The little square cracker-like ones with peanut butter in them) two bottles of club soda, and a pack of cigs. I just wanted to disappear for one night and not talk to anyone. Just me and Netflix continuing our ongoing, intimate affair. Maybe I’ll even smoke a little grass.

Closing time rolls around and I’m just finishing up. Normally I would be off Saturday, but I agreed to switch with Trish so she could visit her family. So tonight I could chill, but I’d be back here by 10:30 next morning. I’ll take what repose I can get, now that I’m back to working sixty hours a week between the two jobs.

I’m getting my coat, and I get a text from Cherie. “What are you doing?” I am about to pick up the trash to take it out, when I see a woman standing out in the dark hallway.

It’s Cherie! I am shocked and surprised. She’s all bundled up because it’s cold outside. But shess wearing a white headband, and her glasses. I notice that she curled her hair. It’s a tangle of shining ribbons of coal. She looks like a sexy librarian. “What are you doing here?”

“We talked about this last weekend.”

“We did?”

“I mean, I think we did. I can get on the train and go back if you’re upset.”

I grab her and kiss her. She tries to turn away from me, but I know she’s just teasing me. “You’re not getting back on any train. I’m sorry, I just need a teeny bit of heads up, that’s all, dear.”

Well, it looks like of instead of sitting in a chair getting drunk with my two favorite mistresses, (Vodka & Netflix) I get to spend the evening and morning with my very real girlfriend! Great, unexpected way to kick off the weekend. I’ll chill tomorrow night after work.

We get back to the bat cave, and thankfully, daughter Lorelei isn’t home. I lock the door and hit the flashlight on my phone, and lead her back to my bedroom.

There is some small talk, but the inevitable is going to happen. When I say “inevitable,” I mean “training for the sex olympics.”

I’m getting better at this. When I was with Annabelle, Our relationship was so fractured and disjointed due to her personality disorder, I never knew what was going to happen next. Just a confused soul. (See: Annabelle – Guy Walks Into a Bar) But with Cherie, everything’s cool. She’s a calming force in my life and incredibly grounded in her sexuality. Out of every woman I’ve ever met, she is truly the best. Sexuality is all in the biggest sex organ of your body; your mind. Her head, heart, and bod are all correctly aligned. She’s comfortable with her vessel, and makes it sing.

And I love playing a Stradivarius.

She says she misses me sexually when we are apart too long. “It’s all I think about. I have to masturbate everyday, just to take the edge off. I need you to fuck me.”

Cherie is a nymphomaniac, but very loyal. She loves sex, but isn’t reckless with her mind and body. I really couldn’t have created a better girlfriend.

I’m not going into what happened in my bedroom. This is a dating and relationship blog. Things got hot and passionate till about midnight. We woke up at 3am, (or she woke me up) and some more magic occurred. We both slept again until 6:45, and more fun ensued. Cherie is a sexual animal. She’s really a good match for me. I’ve never met anyone like her. I’m just glad that at my age I can keep up with her and leave her satisfied.

The great thing is, shark week is over, and the stress and mess are gone. It’s winter. She’ll be going back to school next week. She’s only working the one job now at Children’s Hospital. It was Friday the 13th, and a pretty black kitty crossed my path. Nothing but good luck.

Our time together is limited, due to our busy schedules. I want to take her to things; like dinner, movies and events, but right now a few hours is all we have.

And we celebrate and share it accordingly, with our most precious possessions. The only thing we came into this world with…

Ourselves.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pmEST.

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Andrea – Clowning Around

I met this girl on tinder. She seemed cute enough and the conversation wasn’t as stale as the other matches I had so we decided to meet up over coffee.

The day of, I go to pick her up at her house. I knock on the door and she opens it.

She was, to say the least .. not really like her pictures. She was a little bigger and her face didn’t even look the same. I’m already disappointed but I’m already here and it would be rude to back out now. So she gets in my car and we start driving to Starbucks. On the way there, we talked in the car for a bit and it becomes apparent to me that she is an “XD RAWR so rand0m” type girl. But again .. I’m already here. .. (Yea, I don’t get it either)

We get to Starbucks and she gets me to order for her because “I just can’t handle that right now”. (ok …)

We sit down and I’m already counting the minutes until it wouldn’t be rude to call it a night. We start talking, well, I start talking. The most I can get out of her is yes, no or a slight laugh if I tell a joke. From talking to her like this, I find out she’s actually only 22, her profile said 27. Not a huge deal but I wouldn’t have gone out with her had I known that before. (Or would I…?)

Eventually I ask her what she does. IMMEDIATELY, in one breath she screams out I’MSOGLADYOUASKED I’M A PROFESSIONAL CLOWN WANNAHEARMYCLOWNLAUGH HHOOOOOOONNKKKK HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA.

I am mortified, the entire coffee shop turns to look and she is oblivious to it. Suddenly she is no longer this weird shy girl. She starts telling me all these stories about her clown adventures. This goes on for probably 8 minutes. Everyone around is looking and obviously listening in on it (not that they had much choice). She then tells me LOUDLY how her boss and one of her coworkers propositioned her for a three-way. She goes on to say, “Yeah I thought about it, but he’s 60 and I was 17 at the time so I decided not to. Plus we were doing a child’s birthday party at the time so it might not have been appropriate.”

As soon as she says that, a girl in the corner of the coffee shop lets out a stifled laugh. My date notices and goes beet red. I suggest maybe we should call it a night because I had an early meeting the next day. She saw through my lie but went with it. A few minutes later I realize tomorrow was Sunday. I drive her home, awkward silence follows for the 15 minute drive.

We arrive, I stay silent and don’t get out of the car. She sits there for a bit not saying anything. I go ” Soooo..”. What follows next is 100% true. She said this. I can’t ever forget it. She blurts out, “Wanna come inside and have clown sex while my cats watch?”

Yeah .. she said that. I stay silent for about 10 seconds because I don’t know what to say. I eventually say “I uhh, dont have any condoms, sorry”. She gets the message and leaves. I hightail it out of there and never spoke to her again.

 

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Sun Stories: Sasha – The Black Silk Stockings Incident

So Sasha returns to the salon. She is hands down one of the most beautiful women that has ever set foot in this salon.

I refered to her as my #1.

She loves to tan and I upsold her to a premium package but she feels like she gets more tan in the Cadillac. (That’s powerful but a non-premium bed) These girls are so picky.

She left for a while because she wanted to take a break from tanning. If you leave you can’t be my #1 anymore.

But one day the beautiful Sasha returns to the salon. I’m delighted to see her. I love beauty. I know I’ve always been a beauty addict. She looks marvelous as always. I welcome her back and tell her I’ve been horribly unfaithful to her and she has lost her spot as my number one. It’s all in good fun and we laugh it off.  But there’s a part of me that is serious. I miss my queen. I made her my number one in my head and she left us.

“How are you? I’ve missed you Sasha.”

“I’m having a shitty day and I have a hole in my stockings.”

“I’m sorry. (intrigued by any talk about her legs) They seem okay.”

“It’s high up on my thigh, but their ruined.”

I make lists and rules for the salon and it’s all in good fun. Sasha gets it and knows it’s all just a fun game. It’s a fun way for me to fuss over these girls and create a little competition. They all have fun with it and it makes the place like a lively club.

I do love Sasha in a classic phicklephilly way.  Just me being charming to a gaggle of gorgeous women I adore being in the presence of.

But when I converse with Sasha she actually ruins the false dream I create for her. They always do. She seems shallow and high maintenance. She’s really into tanning. I love that. The beautiful addicts. Addicted to anything that they think will make them prettier. They cling to everything they can to hold onto the only thing they truly possess that has carried them through their entire lives.  Beautiful DNA lottery winners that have skated through their lives sliding down the rainbow of their own genetic beauty and have had everything handed to them. Please don’t misunderstand me here. I get it. I’m a beauty addict. I love them all. I don’t care what’s going on inside of these lovely vessels.

She says she struggles getting her face tan. She’s not happy about the premium package I totally gave her a deal on to help her. She feels like a different bed works better because it is hands down the strongest bed in the house. I don’t care. Sasha’s paying for the premium package and using a lesser bed. Give the people what they want. Whatever works.

Sasha reveals to me that she is 112 lbs and 23 years old. She’s a spectacular, lean Persian beauty and her mom works in local TV in Boston. This chick is a genetic miracle and born into money. Her face is lovely. Her hair is black and even though her nose is crooked, she is a perfect beauty. She has almost no bustline. I like girl with small breasts because they appear more youthful. Her body is lean and her legs are incredible. So I adore her on just the leg aspect. If you’ve been reading this blog you know I am leg obsessed so I would date a girl with an average face if she had a good landing gear and means of propulsion.

While waiting for the sunbed she wants she also tells me that in high school she was 140 lbs. Fat she says. A bigger girl. Who knows what was going on there but on a girl of her stature that’s chunky. She says in High School she was a bad girl and fooled around with a lot of boys because she felt ugly.

Okay, overweight and low self esteem and your mom was smoking hot. I get it. The blog isn’t going to write itself so I’m all ears.

She’s been with the same boyfriend since she was 17 years old.  She now works at an IT Recruitment firm here in Philly with a bunch of girls that tan here. There is one girl who is in my top 5 that brough them all in and she’s gorgeous. I love her too. I can be at the back of the salon without my glasses and I know when this chick comes in just from the slender shapely legs that I see with my special leg targeting super power. Believe me, when it comes to legs, I have a super power. I can hear the rustle of stockings from 50 yards away!

I love stockings and hose. They encase and cling to a woman’s legs to make them look better and keep them warm. Any leg wear and anything related to women’s legs drives me nuts and makes the dopamine drop like mad. I love it.

Anyway, she and the boyfriend live together here in Philly. He goes to Penn and she works in recruitment. They’re both from Boston. So he’s in school and she’s working. So the obvious move financially was to get a place together. They’ve been together for 4 years.

She tells me that if they get married, (Which seems inevitable) she wants a 3 carat diamond ring. She even shows me a photo of the ring she wants. I start to hate my number one. (Former number one)

A ring like that costs anywhere between ten grand and twenty grand. That’s insane. What kind of woman would put that much emphasis on a stone that is in a created market by the DeBeers family.

Most natural diamonds are formed at high temperature and pressure at depths of 140 to 190 kilometers (87 to 118 mi) in the Earth’s mantle. Carbon-containing minerals provide the carbon source, and the growth occurs over periods from 1 billion to 3.3 billion years (25% to 75% of the age of the Earth).

It’s the hardest mineral on the planet but marriage is a complicated and fragile experience. Half of them fail and the wedding business is a billion dollar industry. I’m starting to hate Sasha. She’s a vacuous foolish girl who has watched too many Disney movies and grown up in a place not based in reality.

Think of the pressure this is putting on her man. I tell her he’s going to have to find and incredible career out of college to become that level of debtor to buy her a stone on a ring that could slip off and fall down a sink forever.

So pretty but so superficial. I find that behavior empty and gross. So pretty on the outside. Ugly and stupid on the inside.

Can you imagine a guy dropping $20K on a fucking ring for a girl with no tits and working at a recruitment firm? And she’s a shitty person. She’s just really pretty. That’s it.

Run, dude. But that poor sap can’t believe that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl in the room. Run, dude.

Sasha tells me if they ever move back to Boston she’s going to get a roommate and they will live separately I ask her why if they’ve been together for so long. She says she doesn’t like the idea of them acting like they’re married and not actually being married.

But they’re doing that now. It’s just tradition and ideals at this point. That would be expensive and stupid.

I can see all of this insanity from where I’m sitting now at 55. I’ve lived through every nonsense relationship tradition you could probably imagine. It always ends the same.

I look at Sasha and I’d love to fuck her back to the stone age, but that’s it at this point. She has officially lost her superficial silly title as the number one babe at the tanning salon.  (I know it’s just a game, but we gotta have some standards here people)

Somehow when she’s sitting there and we’re chatting and we’re getting into work stuff she says the phrase:

“I’m not going to be a pussy about it.”

Me with six 5 star Yelp reviews has to embrace my fallen number one using the word “Pussy” I have to do this. We’re close enough now.

“Sasha. It’s funny that people use that word as being soft or weak.”

‘I know, right?”

“I hear that phrase a lot and I’ve given it some thought.” I say this as the older statesman of the tanning salon in Rittenhouse. I’m the guy that the girls listen to in regard to which bed, lotion, exposure time and program they should adhere to be beautiful now.

“What are you thinking about that?”

I love that we’re going to have this conversation. I’m going to risk it.

“When men say things like, grow a pair of balls, or sack up, they mean be a man and be hard. Be brave and stand up for yourself. But in reality, the testicles are the most fragile part of a man. If you strike or kick a man in the balls he will fall to the ground and actually feel broken and nauseous from that. You can basically take a man out by hitting him in the balls. They hang outside his body in a bag and aren’t even strong enough to be inside his body to manufacture sperm. Fucking weak. One swift kick and we’re down. On the other hand, pussy is strong. Stronger than balls. A pussy can take a solid pounding and is strong enough to push out a baby.  A human being. Pussy is mighty.”

I know I risk being fired for this view.

“I totally agree with you Charles, and think about that all of the time.”

I love that Sasha think about how strong her sweet pussy is all of the time. I would like nothing more that to test the tenacity of her vagina. But I digress.

This is as intimate as I’ve ever been with hot, shallow, Sasha and I offer the Sweet and Sexy hot bronzer. She accepts it after hearing of its effects and actually like the idea of me giving it to her for free.

This is so fun! I love this tanning drama!

She comes out after her session and looks a little red. I tell her rosy complexion is the tingler activating the melanin in her skin to make her darker. She likes that. She tells me she had micro blading done on her eyebrows. I don’t know what that is, but apparently it’s something that will make this already perfect girl more beautiful.

Microblading, also known by a variety of names such as embroiderymicrostrokingfeather touch and hair like strokes, is a form of permanent makeup that provides a means to partially or fully camouflage missing eyebrow hair with the appearance of simulated hair using fine deposits of cosmetic tattoo pigments. Over time the strokes can blur and fade and will need to be refreshed.

Sasha tells me she has to protect her eyebrows from tanning while she is microblading. I wish I had come up with a nonsense product that people felt like they needed their whole life.

No. I could never do that to another person because that’s a lie. Sasha is beautiful and fucked up, but I’m here to serve her.

She comes out a little rosy from the lotion.

“Look. It worked. You look darker. Amazing.”

“I do right?”

I touch her forehead and arm. She’s red. My fingers gentle touch leaves a white impression then returns to red/brown. She’s happy with the results and I am the therapist. I am the one that delivers the tan. The beauty, The thing they all crave and don’t really need, but this is a business and it’s what Achilles and I do now. (See: Achilles – The Bronze God)

I notice her lovely legs are bare when she comes out of the booth.

“What happened? Won’t you be cold?”

“I told you I ripped a hole in my stockings today.”

I watch as she throws a black cloth wad into the trash.

“See you Thursday and thank you for everything!”

Off she goes.

I slowly walk her to the door and wave goodbye.

I watch her bound down the steps. Her shapely lean legs flexing as she makes her way back to Walnut street.

I turn back to the trash. That’s Sasha’s black sheer stockings that encased her lovely legs all day in the trash. The ones with the disappointing hole.

The disappointing hole.

It’s really high on Sasha’s thigh. I don’t know why she was so upset. The stockings seem fine and still carry the scent of the former number one that just discarded this artifact and left.

I guess I’ll take out that trash to the dumpster.

You decide what I did.

 

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