A Sunshine Explosion

Sandy Summers from Kindgirls.com

Monday, June 30, 2008:

Sunshine became my roommate in April.  We’ve been together about ten weeks.

When I told her it was acceptable for her to have guests, including males, spend the night, I had no idea that she knew so many boys.  I was thinking one special guy, not the whole damn city!!!

I did lead by example.  During the whole time she was with me, no one spent the night with me.  The only female visitor I had was Adriana, and she was indeed special!  Adriana never spent the night.

Sunshine was able to draw on an extensive stable of boys.  She kept in contact with some boys from where she lived in Algonquin.  The guys from her old job at the real estate company lusted for her.  She seemed to be the spice for the sex-crazed from Cheeseburger in Paradise, where she was once a server.  The photographers on her photo shoots wanted her.

Most of all, I despised the crew from RA, a sushi restaurant.  They’re full of tattoos and body piercings, and they offered her supposedly harmless drugs, like mushrooms.  They have paper clips inserted in their eyebrows.  They are so ugly, addicted to body mutiliation, that I cannot enter that restaurant.

I do not like them.

As the weeks go by, I find different males in the apartment at all hours.

They come out of her bedroom unexpectedly, me not even knowing they were there.  I thought I should offer my handshake and say:

“Hi!  My name’s Mike.  Hope you had a great piece of ass!”

They slam the door when they leave in the morning, waking me up.

Sometimes one will be here in the afternoon, and a different one in the evening.

She often has parties in her bedroom with as many as six people till 3:00 AM on work nights.  I am not invited, but I am allowed to supply the liquor, the food, and do the dishes.

I seeth, and my resentment builds.

She claims she has sex with almost no one, but she does brag that Travis is well-endowed. 

Thank you for that information, Sunshine!

She is entranced with some homosexual and announces that he will be spending the night.  She is very proud that she is the only woman with whom he will have sex.

I tell her that no faggot is going to pound her cans in my apartment!!!

That was our first argument, and it occurred in April.  I relented, and finally said the guy could spend the night.  The guy must really have been homosexual, for he never showed.

Broke her heart!!!

Most of all, I do not like walking out of my bedroom at midnight and finding a strange man in my living room.  I tried to tell her that there is a certain time when we close up the apartment for the night, and no one should be arriving.  A home needs to be comfortable and safe.  Strangers arriving at all hours are not comfortable, even if they do provide her comfort.

Last week, I walked out of my bedroom at midnight, and a strange male was there.  I blew my stack and said this must never happen again.

I believe her to be deaf!

Last night, Sunshine arrives home from work at 11:30 PM.  I’m sitting in the living room.  I hear other people with her, and am disappointed that another late-night party with her girlfriends is about to begin.

Sunshine enters her bedroom and, with a concerned look, tells me that she needs to talk to me.

Her 19-year-old girlfriend enters next.  She gives me a huge smile, acting as if they are so cool.

My spirits plummet.  It’s bed time, and a party to which I am neither invited nor want to attend is beginning.

Next is a large black thug.  He’s walking with huge strides and his shoulders are bobbing up and down, in that walk they do that they think is so cool.  Worse, he’s talking street-talk and appears to be trash.

This scumbag arrives in my apartment, without my permission, near midnight, with dreams of diddling these two young white girls silly.

I am expected to welcome him,

to supply the refreshments,

and a comfortable bed!

Need any rubbers, Buddy?

I go bananas.

I totally lose it.

I GO FUCKING CRAZY!!!

I evict everyone.

Sunshine moved out this morning.

Forever!

Ain’t no Sunshine any more.

And I couldn’t be happier!

With Adriana gone (I cared about her soooo much!!!)

and now with Sunshine gone,

I’m out of women!!!

I believe Sunshine to have moved in with one of the guys in this complex (Frenchy) whom she was often visiting overnight.  She claims to have never taken him to heaven.

Yeah.  Right.

Frenchy has a pierced belly button.

What kind of man is that???

American girls do seem to love his accent.  His English is so poor as to be incapable of being understood.  Evidently his body does the talking. 

The Beggar

“Hat2” from www.feelimagine.com

About a year ago, in July, 2007:

Chicago is a calmer city tonight, for Angie’s reviews on the escort review boards show that she has taken about half the City to heaven.

Five years ago, at age 21, Angie was a healthy young woman with the classic shape of which every man dreams.  Today, she is a different person, her body embalmed by years of crack and heroin.  She is not a pretty sight.

Exiting the Eisenhower Expressway in a rough part of town, she notes a beggar with a sign asking for food.  The beggar is female and in her late thirties.  With a shower and some grooming, this slender woman could be attractive.

Her driver is surprised that Angie is agitated and upset, for she is the most laidback and easygoing woman around.  People beat on Angie.  Angie beats on no one.

Seneca:  “Honey, why does your father beat you?”

Angie:    “Because he loves me so much.”

This beggar is disturbing Angie, for she is squirming in her seat.  Angie puts part of her torso through the open window and screams:

“Why don’t you suck dick like the rest of us?”

A year later, this incident still bothers me.  It revealed Angie’s lack of aspirations, her lack of options, and her lack of hope.

It revealed a total destruction of the spirit.

I have not been in contact with Angie for quite a while.  I did hear that her downward slide continues, and that she disappears for weeks at a time.

Professional Dominatrix

Mistress Dominion

Thursday morning, June 26, 2008:

My friend the agent called this morning to let me know that he is representing a professional dominatrix.

He assures me that the woman will treat me like shit, then refuse to have sex with me, all for a modest $400 per hour.

He claims this skill to be in short supply.

I must tell you that I’ve been able to acquire this treatment in the past at a vastly lesser rate, and from non-professionals.

Is it possible to be better mistreated by a professional?

Mika Update

404 Karina from Met-Art

Sunday, June 22, 2008:

Of all those I have attempted to aid, Mika is the only one where I may have actually helped.  The others who have turned their lives around did it after I stopped helping.  She is now age 22.

While Mika claims she would never have turned her life around without me, there are two others vastly ahead of me in importance.

The first is Mika herself.  She chose to make the very tough changes.

The second is her son, at the time two, now four.  Without that kid’s overwhelming importance to her, Mika would still be in Chicago with the thugs.

Believe me, they were the lowest of thugs!

I hated them.  Still do.  They live off the backs of very cute young women and attempt to maintain control by feeding them drugs.

Her mother continues to be an obstacle to her emotional health and well-being.  Like Maggie’s mother, Mika’s mother seems devoted to attempting to destroy her.

The business depressed her, and she spent her income buying weed for her and her friends.  Much went to buy momentary happiness, such as expensive shoes and purses.  After a couple of years of escorting, she was broke and driving a junk car.

Her reviews were awful.  She attracted a client who was spellbound by being in the presence of a perfectly-formed young woman, a guy like me.  Those who valued performance were disappointed.  She was as far from a girlfriend experience as it gets.

Her reviews are under a variety of names, as her agency changed her name based on where she was advertised.  That way they could charge different rates for the same girl.

About November of 2006, she returned to the far North Country to be with her son.  She went from an income of $350 per hour as an escort to an income of $8 or $9 per hour providing in-home care to the elderly.

She had male in-home care clients who were simply entranced by her. 

So was I.

It was tough to manage the income change, but her love for her son caused her to stay the course.

She chose to tell her new prospective employer of her felony conviction, and she was hired anyway.  She now makes over $12 per hour with an opportunity for bonuses.  She markets new drugs to doctors, veterinarians, and pharmacies. 

It is her job to get clients to accept free samples of new drugs.  It’s not as easy as it sounds, for she must get the right person on the phone and qualify them.

She is terrified of returning to her old ways, including smoking weed, for a violation of probation may cause imprisonment and separation from her son.

She’s checking out schools now which offer medical assistant training.

I haven’t seen her in nine months. 

She once had the most powerful of holds on me!

And I can’t figure out why.  The relationship was awful.  The sex was mechanical.  But I truly cared for her in a very special way.  That hold is pretty much gone now, but not totally.  Had Adriana stuck around a couple of more weeks, I think that would have cured it. 

I am so proud of Mika!

Maggie Update

“Stephanie” from flickr.com

Sunday, June 22, 2008:

After an eighteen year addiction to cocaine and crack, Maggie has been drug-free since May 4, 2007.  The first eight months of abstinence were due to incarceration at Cook County Jail, the maximum security Dwight Correctional Center, and the Kankakee Minimum Security Unit.

She was released from prison on December 27, 2007, and the subsequent six months of abstinence were solely due to her own determination.

She was able to give up drugs by totally changing her friends.  She had absolutely no contact, including phone contact, with anyone who uses drugs.  She also avoided the presence of alcohol.

About three years ago, her face was kicked in by a monster thug named Ace and her teeth were kicked out.  She has had two surgeries on her gums and her beautiful new dentures were scheduled to be in a week ago.  They’re late.

Unfortunately, Maggie refuses to work because she’s ashamed of her appearance without teeth.  Since release from prison, she sits in her apartment and watches TV.  Her 17-year-old daughter stays with her.  Maggie is supported by her mother and that relationship has soured because of Maggie’s refusal to work.

Maggie will have no trouble attracting men.  She will not return to her beauty of yesteryear, for the beatings have left their mark.  I think the shape of her head has been changed from the eyebrows up.

She sees her 10 and 12-year-old daughters often.  She almost regained custody of her 14-year-old daughter at the demand of the parent who had adopted her, but Maggie couldn’t handle it.  The problem-child was returned to the parent who adopted her fourteen years ago.

The child who was born here at my place a year ago has been adopted by Maggie’s sister in Arizona.  The child is doing great.

Romance may be in the air for Maggie!

I was at dinner Wednesday evening in Indiana with Pete, a long-time racing buddy.  Pete’s ex-wife Bea, also a close racing buddy, once won a very competitive national competition to be declared the fastest woman in the Porsche Club that year.  What a driver!

Bea’s son Tom was at the dinner.  Damn, the kid grew up!  He’s good-looking and sweet.  He mentioned his birthday, and it’s the exact same as Maggie’s, including the year.  Tom was born at about 7:00 AM.  Maggie was born at 6:53 AM.

They think it’s Destiny, and are very excited to meet one another.  As soon as Maggie gets her teeth, I’m taking her out there.

Perhaps the true mark of having lost romantic interest in a woman is the attempt to find her a boyfriend.

More Than a Woman

Nena Blue

Written Friday night, May 23, 2008

Pulling into the parking lot, she realizes that the man waiting in the car must be her date.  She flashes a smile and jumps out of her SUV.

She had just called her date to say that she did not have time to fix her hair just the way she likes it.  The date shouts out the window:  “You should have fixed your hair!”  Her face breaks into a huge grin, her eyes twinkle, and she hops into her date’s passenger seat, smiling.

Her date is smitten!

And her hair is wonderful!

Gobs of it attempting to be held in place by a lone clip.

Hair falling this way and that!

She is so damn sexy!!!

Her very dark hair is highlighted with red as only a youngster can.

It tumbles around her beautiful dark eyes and contrasts with her milky skin in a stunning reminder that man-made cosmetics cannot compete with the work of Nature.

She’s wearing a light white jacket made of a sexy material that begs to be touched.  She pulls up a sleeve revealing the creaminess of her forearm, her perfectly formed hand, and fingernails coated with a deep red in harmony with her natural colors.

A tiny black miniskirt covers an exquisitely small tush.  Modesty is retained with sexy black leggings.

Her date cannot stop looking at her.

She is All Woman!

Conversation is animated.  She moves around in her seat, hands flying through the air, emphasizing points made.

She is mesmerizing!

She gives of her charms sparingly.  Very, very few have won her favors.

Her date realizes that it might be a long time before private time is granted.   He must first respect her, cherish her, and work to gain her trust and her love.  And her date doesn’t mind in the least. 

Just basking in her glow,

breathing the same air she breathes,

and being a part of her life,

is more than any mere mortal can hope for.

Later, it’s time to go, and she leans over to give her date a light kiss.

The softness of her lips on his cheek, her hair touching his face, and her wonderful aroma overwhelms him.  He makes the moment last longer by asking for a hug.  With the brief hug readily granted, he feels happy and complete.  What a night!

She is Woman

She is Everyman’s Dream

She is My Dream

Her name is Adriana 

Trouble in Paradise

Nena Blue

Saturday morning, May 24, 2008

What day is this?

Where’s the coffee?

What hit him like a ton of bricks?

Then he remembers the pretty girl in the passenger seat, beautiful dark eyes looking away and up, laughing gently.

She returns his morning text message with a phone call and they agree to meet for lunch.  His heart leaps.

The previous evening she had warned him that she had not fixed her hair the way she likes.  Yet she shows up with the sexiest damn hairdo he had ever seen, with gobs of hair falling everywhere.  Ohhh, to touch that hair!!!

Today she warns him of her fingernail polish.

Yeah, right!

She arrives with her nail polish carefully removed and her young fingers sporting a kind of natural French manicure.  This woman is hot no matter what she does!!!

Sitting across from him, her dark eyes flash as her pink lips say words in conversation, and those lips mesmerize him.  Has any man ever been lucky enough to kiss those lips?

Her hair yesterday was curly, wild, and hot.  Today it is straightened, and she looks like a good little schoolgirl.  No matter what she changes, she retains the magical lure of a young, sexy woman.

Damn, he loves her smile, and the way her eyes light up!

Before the first date, he had endured a week of daily grilling over his past.  She asked about all his previous loves, especially Mika, Maggie, the Little Sailor Girl, and Roxanne.  She probed with detailed questions about the intimacy with each.  She had stressed the need for complete honesty, so he gave it.  She took it well, until

All Hell Broke Loose!

He had once decided that no possible date would ever see his blog.  How could she understand or forgive?  Exhausted by her questioning, and hoping that she could know him fully, he sends her the link.

Not a good idea!

They part with her not knowing if she will see him again.  She does give him a verbal list of diseases for which he must be checked, and she wants to see the written results herself.  But, even with that, she is not sure of future meetings.  His assurances of his use of protection fall on deaf ears.

There is some tenderness at the parting.  Her light kiss includes a lingering pressing of her cheek to his.  Her kiss to the other cheek again includes that hug, and the hug is longer.  He is also allowed to caress her hair and the back of her head while their cheeks linger together.

As she pulls away in her SUV, window down, she expresses her uncertainty.

He feels sure she doesn’t realize how special she is to him.

There are other women available,

but none as funny,

none as hot,

and none as able to connect as this one.

He awaits the future.

Sunshine on Adriana

Sandy Summers from Kindgirls.com

Later Saturday morning, May 24, 2008, driving Sunshine to work

Sunshine:  “Mike, how did your date go last night?”

Seneca: “Great, Honey.  I really like this one!”

Sunshine:  “How old is she, Mike?”

Seneca:  “cough……….cough……….”

Sunshine:  “Mike!!!”

Seneca:  “Honey, she uses absolutely NO drugs.  She works hard with a real job and she goes to school.  She does like to drink a little, and soon she will be able to drink legally!”

Sunshine:  “Soon she will be able to drink legally???”

Seneca:  “cough……….cough……….”

Sunshine:  “I knew it!!!”

Seneca:  “Honey, I think she actually likes me.”

Sunshine:  “Mike, she’s gonna hurt you like all the rest.”

Seneca:  “She’s different, Honey, she’s different.”

Pink!!!

Christen #16 from flickr.com

Saturday, May 24, 2008

She calls Saturday afternoon, giggling and laughing.  She wants him to know that her new “hot pink” nail polish is HOT!!!

She understands that this is an important event to him.

He feels so close to her!

Damn!  He loves her so!!!

The Ultimate Stripper Girl

Jenna Jameson

Sunday, May 25, 2008:

I had seen her in the print advertisements and in the website for the area’s premier strip club.

She was the perfect American girl with shoulder length, highlighted blond hair, big blue eyes, and a smile that electrified.  Her body was slender and curvy, sculpted by a perfection of genetics.  Her grooming was impeccable, down to her French-manicured nails. 

She was, and is, simply perfect.

I assumed she in fact worked for the club, as stripper girls are indeed sometimes that perfect.  Not having seen her at the club, I assumed she was in one of the Champagne Rooms in the back doing private dances or off work that night.  It did occur to me that she might be a professional model.

But she wasn’t!

She was a stripper girl!

Driving home from visiting Adriana on a Sunday afternoon, Roxanne calls and asks me to redirect the car to the expensive McCormick & Schmick’s Seafood Restaurant in Schaumburg to meet her and a girlfriend for dinner.  I like to think that I was invited because of my overwhelming masculine charms.  The jaded may say that I was invited to pick up the tab for a couple of youngsters gone wild ordering things they could not afford.

I check that my credit card is with me and has availability, note that I have a half-tank of gas, put on my sunglasses, and tell the car to head for the girls.

Roxanne danced at the same club as the stripper featured in the print ads. I am stunned to find whom her girlfriend at dinner is.

She’s the one in the print ads and on the website.

Her name is Becky.

Jenna Jameson

In person, Becky is hotter than her photos, if that is possible.  An animated pretty girl is always better than her photos, and Becky is stunning. 

She seems to be a genetic abnormality, as every part of her is beyond perfection. 

Her white dress stops just a couple of inches from the knees of her very expensive legs.  Her dress covers her neckline except for a slit exposing just a little of large, firm breasts.  The tone of her calf muscle is just right, exercised yet feminine.  At age 28, she is in her prime!

Roxanne, age 26, is also gorgeous.  I look at these two American girls, laughing, talking, and drinking with the confidence and fun attitude of dancers, and I am in awe.

But maybe not!

Becky is surprised at Adriana’s reluctance to kiss new acquaintances, and Becky says:

“I’ve given a ton of bj’s, and I’ve never gotten anything in my mouth!”

I note three things.  First, her bj’s are given away freely, thus terribly devaluing them.  Second, her adding “in my mouth” to this careful listener implies that she has had sexually transmitted diseases in other parts of her body.  Third, in spite of her overwhelming beauty, I don’t want her phone number.

For years now, I’ve been with these women of extraordinary beauty who have been corrupted to their core by drugs, alcohol, and monstrous childhood abuse.  I can take it no longer.

I think of how careful Adriana is with her body.  I think of the impact on me of Adriana simply lifting her gaze to meet mine.  I think of the softness of her eyes, and I know that these moments with Adriana are infinitely more treasured that any sexual treat that can be delivered by Becky. 

What Adriana, and women like Adriana, deliver is much more valuable and satisfying!

As perfect as Becky is looks-wise, her speech isn’t.  It’s rough and full of foul language learned by talking to lust-crazed men over a number of years.

The clubs do seem to damage women, for no one can handle long-term exposure to the sometimes worst of men at their worst behavior.

They get me excited over the supposedly perfect women who will inhabit the new Pink Monkey strip club, and we make plans to go Friday.  On the way home, I cancel, totally tired of that life and the women in it.

Roxanne lives nearby, and Becky wants to go to Roxanne’s place for a make-out session.  I am not invited, as I have served my purpose of picking up the monstrous tab, fueled by two plates of sampler oysters and exotic drinks.  Roxanne is embarrassed, and pretends Becky is kidding about the make-out session.  The two do head to Roxanne’s place, Roxanne’s interest in men having been long ago destroyed by exposure to men in strip clubs.

Although Becky is wonderful to look at, there is little else of interest.  Real women who take care of themselves, who value their bodies, and who are struggling for a real life are so much more attractive.

Just the touch of Adriana’s hand is everything to me. 

But much more valuable than the touch of Adriana’s hand is what goes on inside of her.  I sometimes see her look away, thinking, thinking about her life, thinking about how to treat me properly, thinking about her career and her schooling.  She tells me of her passions, sometimes her sexual passions, and tells me her feelings.  She lets me connect with her very core.

I’ve never had a connection like this before.  I wonder how it would be to go through life connected to a woman like this.  That must be what marriage is about.

Will I ever find a connection like this again?