This depraved truth

Yesterday we celebrated Kid´s Day at a reunion of friends I love so much. In times like these I always  get thankful for the few, lovely trustful ones fate had put in my way.
But sometimes I feel misplaced. After all, my best friends are married. Today, I don't feel like I belong to the singles, nor to the married team. I'm a mom and this gives me some roots and responsabilities, also a kind of safety feelings. Though I know we raise kids to the world, and not to ourselves, having a daughter keeps me from feeling too lonely.

Yes, I do confess I have this so very human fear of growinlg old alone. Dying alone, for more that I had touched people during my life, leaving it with the painful feeling that in the end, I didn't really share my story with anyone. And I will never understand why.

I can come here and write posts and posts of the pussy wetting feelings and thrills I am lucky enough to know from this existance. I can open this up to anyone willing to acess this blog. But I really feel deviant when I'm writing about loving kisses and holding hands. Nowadays it feels indecent to be faithfully in love, to secretly crave for spooning, hair stroking, tickle games and breakfast in bed.  I´m an old fashioned lover, a concubine to please all senses, way beyond sex.
Some years before my marriage ended, my ex husband started to humiliate me by telling me what a waste I was, for not "doing anything". I gave up my professional life to be a housewife and I was very proud of it. Everyday when he arrived home, the house was clean, the laundry was done, the dinner was about to get ready. It wasn´t a paid maid, everything was done with a special care. And he humiliated me because I couldn't find a job.


Well, I guess the fact that after I divorced I never had trouble finding a job- and I actually was making at least double his salary.- Is enough for me not to have a single scar of this humiliation. Actually I did learn a valuable lesson: that I can't care so much about someone to the point of forgetting about everything else including me. I must take care of me to be able to offer my best. I thought I was doing my best, any I thought my best wasn't enough for him. Bullshit. He wasn't deserving of my worse, I was just too blind to see it. And now I see that the same "sense of commitment" that made him keep me for so long also made me keep wasting my efforts in doing my best in exchange.
I'm thankful for the lessons learnt. I'm glad also that the bad experiences actually made me feel more confident about myself and sure about what I want and what I'm looking for. I got to know myself, to valuate me, to valorize me.
The bad experiences on love made me love in a more refined way. Also a more adult and realistic way.

Who would want a fairytale, when your smiles are so real...

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Way to go, me. I'm homedrinking again. I bet you readers are pretty sure of some things now, including that I'm a butt ugly misanthrope and an alcoholic. Here goes some incredible news: I don't give a flying fuck for what you think. None of you have a fucking clue about what it feels to be me. In fact, you don't even know if I exist, and probably it's the only thing we have in common now.

Needless to say I'm in need of a good rough fuck. Been dreaming of making love and I sure will appreciate it in the morning after. Making love is for sober people, and right now I'm loud and wild. Good for me. Not a chance I'll have any physical contact with anybody tonight, but probably this post will have a lot of acesses tomorrow. Usually chapters full of "fuck", "fucking" and pornography are.
And I'm actually happy I found one other girl who didn't like "50 Shades of Gray". I dunno if she decided that before or after she found out that it's actually a fan fiction written on the Twilight saga. You know, this is the only part I think that makes the book noteworthy. I like fan fiction. Most of you don't know it, but I'm a pretty good writer on this myself...


I feel like calling Mr. Red and telling him aaaaaaaaaaaaaall I want to do with him right now. Starting from a karaoke duo, we could bet a race back home, then take a shower with our clothes on, before getting into what you're really interested in knowing about. But I won't open it up for you tonight. Everything that comes to my mind now I'll keep to ourselves, in loving honour of this secret that everyone can see, but don't.

Well, I've been writing a lot here. What is not really healthy for my literary fame, since I have nothing really interesting to post, but pure verborragia. Theraphy, I guess. I spend the whole day writing mechanically at work, that in the evening I feel like writing something at ease, just to remember my life is not just about concrete descriptions of boring stuff. I can still enjoy it. I can still paint my world with the same letters that stresses the hell out of me at the office. And I do love the magic of reading this all some time after, and rescue some memories that once made me smile. The touches that made me shiver. The jokes that made me laugh. I am not smart and scientifical enough to build a time machine, but I can write and read my way back to the good times anytime.

And who would say our game of hide and seek would last forever...

A new dawn

Just opened my eyes. And I want to register it here, before leaving the bed, that today I'm taking a different chance of my life. Just for a change, at least within. Maybe life is not still, afterall: it's me who lost the ground just because for the first time I can't look ahead and see what´s there. I guess I even said that already.
This can be a good thing. And if it's not, I will make it be. And if I can't... well, I'll get screwed, as I would anyway, so it doesn't make much difference.

It's time to set the table for the feast, I'll be serving the leftovers of my hope.

What if...

...you could actually get to know your life's essential mission, and realize that, afterall, it's not as glamorous and heroic as it might sound?

I mean, I guess that it doesn't matter how brilliant your existence is, at some point, at some moment, it must get boring or seem so unbearably difficult. Sorry if I'm offending the true optimists here, but I really don't believe in people that is just so happy all the time about everything. This only exists in Facebook. On friday evenings.

And it's beautiful when we see a movie, a biography, even, about someone or ones that struggled against the worse odds and end up as winners. Or those ones who did not win at the end, but died trying. We cherish the will power of these people, but think again: I bet it wasn't nice to be wearing those shoes all the time. Hard times are hard and shitty to any human. So are this times when time seems to be standing still.

And dumb Hamalka thinks "Yes, it's just a stage, soon it will be over and I can get back to chase my story".

But along comes the little person that knows everything and laughs.

-What are you laughing at? - I ask.
-You, and your megalomaniac thoughts. You're quite a character, you know. One day is suffering a severe lack of self esteem. The day next you're actually sure you mean big deal to this world, to the point of having a "special mission" or something. Girl, you don't have a clue of yourself, do you?

I rolled my eyes. I do respect this guy, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood of trying to decipher his enigmas, which every now and them are just useful for the sole purpose of his own amusement.

-Here, take a look yourself. This is what your so-called fate expects from you.

And I read the oracle that never fails. And I read it again. And again. And backwards and forth, the same unmistakable clear signs.

-You gotta be kidding..!
-Not kidding, nor trolling, not even confusing.
-This? Just this? 
-If you want to put in these terms...yes. - he laughed again. - Too little for your great adventures?
- C'mon...I...I... - I didn't know what to say, so I sighed in redemption - Will I at least be sucessful at it?
-This I don't know, truly. But I can easily bet you're up to die trying.

And as always, I couldn't deny him.

Afterall, the stars doesn't look so bright when you're down to Earth.

No porn, nor news.

I was already expecting my life would get a little bit still and boring after all the twists of fate I've been living in the past months. But really, that's ridiculous. I just can't get rid of the feeling of "Now, what?" that's been haunting me lately. Long term plans are set. Problem is that I *fucking* hate waiting.

Not that it matters, but we had election day in Hamalkaland on sunday. Never in my life it was so difficult to choose among the same old stupid sons of some bitches. And I dunno if politicians are getting worse or if I'm just getting more and more tired. I guess even they are getting tired of the same empty promises. They could get tired of stealing people's money, too. Then we might really have a choice, for a change. And if it was hard enough to pick up one candidate this time, the decisive round in a few weeks will be way worse. I didn't and I wouldn't vote for any of the "finalists". This city may be a piece of shit, but it's the shit I live in. And I don't really think any of them gives a crap about it.

Democracy. Yeah, right.

Terabytes of memory wasted
Burned bits of couldn't care less
Hard disk full of so virtual moments
Lost for a malicious code of distress
What brought us closer is now disconnected
Cannot access the inbox of my fears
Night after night without getting the message through
You're still offline to my tears
Words on a letter are no substitute for skin
A glance on a picture can't reach within
your eyes safe searching my soul
Just to remind me how little I know...

Red nights over the city lights

Everyone expects something from a saturday night, but me. When I was still too young to care, saturday nights were the best, funniest time of the week. Then I grew responsible and religious and saturday nights meant the best, most illuminated moments I lived. Now I'm just fucking lost and the best I expect is a good movie on TV. Or a whole night asleep. If everything works more than fine, maybe I can get some interesting online chatting, especially if he's drunk, lonely and up for some spicy conversations. But I haven't been this lucky.

I'm so haunted by memories that my mind's been working somewhat as a time machine. One thought and I can be back, one step and I can change history. There he is, sitting in the rocking chair, watching something. I came from the bathroom, feeling my body hot and scented, wearing nothing but a towel, but he didn't take his eyes off the screen. So I took the black and white scarf I had left over the bed and approached him from behind. If he wasn't seeing me, he wouldn't see nothing at all.

-What the..? - He was surprised when I quickly blindfolded him with the scarf. Then I got to his front to shut him up with a kiss. Totally undressed, sitting leg spreaded on his lap, I was pressing my whole body against his. I could feel my pussy drooling and guessed the wet stain on his jeans while his big hands grabbed my ass. His hard-on was about to explode his pants, when I let my body slide down and kneeled to his feet, unzipping his cock I was so willing to taste. I couldn't get my eyes of his expression. His eyes were still blocked with the scarf, he throwed his head back and was curling his lips in a delightful expression. Moanings of pleasure were my guide through his favourite movements, and every little sound he made was driving me even more aroused. I took of his pants, spreaded his legs - I was licking and sucking his dick from the head to his asshole, a hot meat popsicle smearing me all over, his taste and his wheezing driving me out of control.


I climbed and sat on his lap, swallowing all that stick with my moisted cunt, I moaned out loud with every inch he was shoving inside me, we were both wet of sweat and sex, and the smell of his skin was indecently pleasant to my wildest female instincts. I needed to copulate with that alpha male, my body was urging to be fulfilled with his hot sperm, and I moved my hips as crazy, up and down to his cock, as languid and hard as a real latina mistress.
His breath was getting shorter as his face was contracting in uncontrolable pleasure expressions. I felt it coming as I moved in a way to make his cock rub exactly where I needed to. He was still grabbing me by my ass, spreading it open and softly touching my pulsating and moist ass. I took the scarf off his face one second before I cum.

-Look at me.

His wide open eyes were glowing. I was looking deep into it and gritting my teeth while I felt the shockwave of the overwhelming orgasm start to take over my body. I wasn't moaning but screaming, by the time he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.His moaning turned into a savage roar when he spurted his hot cum inside me so strong I could feel the pression.

Still connected, feeling the aftershocks, we kissed deeply and embraced in silence, enjoying the sound of our heartbeats in synchrony. Night was finally falling onto that city.
Not this one I see now through the window, where the only shade of red upon me comes from the glimmer of the urban lights.

Wrong from the start

Just woke up. This time I'm sure my dream didn't make me any happy. In fact, it was curious how the worst part of it made me wake up exactly one minute before the alarm clock sound.
Maybe I had these awful dreams because yesterday I went to sleep with my head full of the evil that men do. I had some terrible news, I was very tired of working way too much, I feel somewhat alone and I know I'm pushing away some people who want to be with me. I feel guilty for that, and then I look in the mirror and I notice I'm not that kid anymore, to go on living as if I would never grow old. I won't be beautiful and willful forever, and although I know I still am, sometimes that's exactly the reason for me to fear how much I can still fuck my own future.

By now I'm pretty sure I came to this world to live quite a story. But I'm not sure about happy endings anymore.

Parallel Universe

First, I knew it was a dream because he was driving. But anyway, his presence was strong as reality, the smell, the voice, the smile - better even - that laugh I love  so much. And the touch, the heat. Everything so remarkably solid that it crossed my mind to question it, but then I remember that maybe is reality together that always seems like a dream.

-You don't get it. - he suddenly said at some point, eyes full of tears. - No one does.

And I woke up without knowing if I should be happy or sad.



My thoughts going onto you
Stalking you down through the ways I know
I will find
I love you
But only 
for the rest of my life...

Maybe full of hope

So, october it is. This year is really flying through me. And if it's true the world as we know is coming to an end soon, at least I can say that in despite of all the mess I've been living this days, I have a positive balance of it. In fact, looking back I see that I had more of the better than of the worse. And I'm thankful for every single moment, for all them are connected, and permeated for a love that's bigger than time. I did had it all, and I guess I still do.

Better even, brigther days will come. Even if this means going straight to the apocalypse.

Unveiling fantasies

Masturbation. It's one of the favourite subjects among guys. Even at work I eventually hear jokes about wanking. Not counting the popular references: like when a band or a musician is too much of a virtuosis, so it's "wanking". If someone is left behind on something (especially in getting a girl), he's  "only wanking". and so on. And girls do use these references too: but always concerning guys.
Girls don't talk about masturbation. They don't make jokes about masturbation. Among girls, the hotter and spicier reference we would make to our sexual hunger is "to get wet". We can get wet and we can desire a guy sexually, we can even tell our friends we'd fuck and suck him, but I never ever heard a single female friend admit she'd finger herself for some guy. And I don't mean making a webcam spectacle of it, I mean pure, simple, intimate masturbation. Come on, there might be nothing wrong about it. If it does, then there is something very wrong with me, for I do masturbate a lot. Yes, I have a "dirty mind", yes, I think about sex quite a lot, yes, I have great inspiration for this. and it's obvious that writting about it makes me willing for some relief. Besides, verbal sex is the only modality I've been practicing lately, writing my thoughts or teasing my muse.
Fact is that, as every sexually active people I know , I have a few "fetishes" that I know I will never make real.Even if I had the chance, I wouldn't because I know the "real deal" would never be as comfortable as fantasy.
Like girls, for exemple. I always thought I was bit bissexual, because some girls get me aroused. I can appreciate the sexual appeal of a women's body, I can see a sexy girl and have a thought further the regular "she's pretty". Actually some girls do inspire me naughty thoughts, but I learnt from the experience that actual sex with girls is nothing that satisfies me. I liked to go to whorehouses when I was younger. I dunno why, I already had this strange fascination for sex and girls whose life was all about that. Of course I kept a glamourous vision of this, as if none of that girls were there to have money to feed her kids, to buy medicines for a sick mother or as if all their clients were always desirable, rich and polite guys. "My" prostitutes were all in for the fun, like the Girls of The Playboy Mansion. Though I knew reality cuts deeper.

Sex in public. Another thing that always got a hold on me. I remember a porn I used to like where a couple was playing pool, and at some point they started making out on the table, in the middle of the bar. It was full of people around, some made some comments and stuff, but mainly nobody even seem to care. Ah, only in movies, indeed. First, because probably if a girl submits to a scene like this, she's most likely to end up gangbanged by ten other guys who'd interfere. Second, because I would probably not feel confortable with people staring - and I bet in real life they would stare. And worse: someone might document and spread that. And I do like to be a respectable woman. I need to. I'm a mother, afterall. You might forget this when reading my stuff, but I never do...

When I started my sexual life, I never thought I'd like bondage. I got interested in handcuffs when I got a pair from my friend who owned a sex shop for girls. But fact is that I never got a chance to use it properly, and ended up giving it as a gift to another girl who I knew would had better fun of it.

Now I'm thinking in buying a new pair. Who knows, a whole world of new sensations is yet to come...

About sex, love and bacon.

Again, I'm feeling stressed. Again, comes to my mind the thought I should have some sex: what would sure not solve any of my problems, but at least discharges the inner tension. And I don't even know if this is actually what I need. After my divorce I managed to spend, what, eight months without sex. Gee, I didn't even had a date, a kiss, nothing. And I survived pretty well.
So, I thought after I had some (!!) sex afterall, I would relax and even open up for other partners, but in fact is what happened was the complete opposite of that. I don't even bother thinking of other guys, since I know from experience no one else would give me the thrills as my favourite does. If you read  "The true story of how I became a woman" post, you might think that's why I'm feeling like this, but looking at the background story as a whole, I now think that I should had expected for that. Just that at some point, I was pretty sure it would never happen. As I was pretty sure I would never meet him again. Happily, I was wrong in both cases.


You can have great sex without being in love. You can really enjoy lousy sex, if you are in love. But when you're having great sex with the one you love deeply it's just a mystical experience. Each touch, each part of the skin, each sensation, sound, taste and colour of it is delightful. Every breath is a remarkable moment, and the orgasms are so unforgettable that I remember it all - and when I do, my body reacts. Then, at the same time I'm urging for this and I'm refusing to get frustrated in having his scent off my skin by something that it's not what I'm craving for.
I used to feel pretty naive in saying this. And I was made fun of so many times because of my sexual faithfulness, that I found the ultimate argument: It's like when you are craving for bacon. You know chocolate is good. Chocolate is great, and I can hand you the best piece of chocolate ever, and you may eat and enjoy it, but it won't fulfill your craving for bacon. You can go to the best buffet of the world and get to have as much as you can of the most delicious and diverse foods of the universe, but if they offer anything but bacon, for better than it is, it won't make you satisfied. And even the artificial bacon-flavoured stuff won't help. So, why bother?
Let's pretend I'm on a diet, then. Until I get bacon, or I starve.
Who knows, I might be in need of loosing some pounds.

How to sail a sinking ship

Whoa...what a messy week! Day after day I feel more glad about getting home to my bedroom, my pajamas. You know what people say about "killing one lion a day", this is for the weak: I am slaying dragons.
Just between us, I am not sure for how long I will stay in this job. Actually, sometimes I have this impression the enterprise itself won't last too long. The nature of it is already disposable from the beggining, since it's that kind of "trendy" thing. But fact is that I'm working mostly with a bunch of incompetents.
I'm not talking on personal grounds, here. Just that the lack of organization and understanding of some departments not only makes my professional role a living hell, but also is digging a grave for the whole company faster than an armadillo.
Not that I care, anyway. I'm not really the kind of employee that incorporates the "team spirit" or any shit like that. I do my job the best I can - and I know what I'm doing. But they are not paying me for passion, just to work. So, if the whole thing go through the sinkhole, the only thing I will worry about is to find another salary.
After all, I need money to feed my addiction, and it is pretty expensive: about US$ 1.500, just the tickets...

Bonded by love

Last night I arrived pretty pissed off. I had worked the whole weekend up to midnight, had my car towed, I was robbed on the train station and was living a hurricane of hormones because of my PMS. These, to say the least.
So, when I got home, I wasn't much of talking. Didn't bother to dinner, instead I rushed straight to the shower and from there to bed. Tried one last effort in order to make me feel any better by putting on a brand new nightie I had bought thinking about a future special occasion. But is seems that the gift was just lowered to consolation. I decided to have a double dosis of my prescripted strong medicine. I needed to be sure I would sleep.

 I was already in bed, covered and about to dream when I heard his voice.
-Are you awake?
-No. - I answered, bit bitterly. We had this stupid, useless argument some days before, and since then I was pretty afraid to say anything without thinking twice before. And by then, I wasn't up to think anything. I just wanted to sleep that damn stress out.
-Are you mad at me? - He asked. But the fact he raised his voice a bit made clear that, even if I had any reason to, he wasn't up to apologize.
-No! - I raised my head from the pillow, feeling like drunk because of the medicines. He approached to kiss me and was embracing me closer. I was feeling claustrophobic, about to faint, but didn't want to make him think I was denying him. That kiss was taking longer than the usual and I felt his hands clinging to my back, in an obvious sign that he was expecting to have sex with me. I love it and I would, even on my worse days. But I was too tired and too high (or low) on sleeping pills, I just couldn't take that. I stop kissing him and he was forcing his tongue deeper to my mouth. I tried to get loose from his arms, but he would only grab me harder.

-I'm sorry, I'm just too tired. - I said, but he went on as he never listened a thing. "Stop!" - I asked again, and again he ignored me. "I don't wanna." - I even said that, but he was getting harder, kissing me deeper, squeezing my body, pressing his hard-on against me. "Stop, you're hurting me!" - I said when I felt I was really passing out if he didn´t get off me.
He stopped kissing me and covered my mouth with his strong hand. "Shut the fuck up." - Red said. I had never saw him aggressive like that. He wasn't smiling or making that any easier, his eyes were cold and the hair covering part of his face gave him an even more cruel looks. In that moment, I feared him. Never thought I could.

He pushed me to bed and let all his weight over me. Ripped out the upper part of my nighties to expose my breasts. "Hey, how you dare to..!" - I started complaining, still believing he was just playing a game, but he slapped my face and covered my mouth and nose, suffocating me.

-I said 'shut the fuck up!', didn't I?

I started crying. He let me breathe, I thought about screaming but I didn't dare to make a sound. He was madly sucking my breasts, squeezing them, biting my nipples. First came an almost unbearable pain, so hard that got me numb. Or maybe it was the medicines. The numbness was getting pleasant. The pain was gone, and when I felt he shoving his fingers up on my pussy, I could feel the moist drooling. He took his hand out of me and rubbed this wet all over my face, forcing me to suck his fingers. Then he squeezed my face.


-You're looking good tonight. - That wasn't just a compliment. Sounded more like a threatening.

I noticed that with his free hand he was taking his pants out. I couldn´t see as he was holding me back tightly from the neck, but I could guess his dick was rock hard and hot. He made me sure of it by hitting it hard against my pussy. He was slapping my clit with his cock, pinching it with his fingertips, brushing my asshole with my pussy juice. Teasing, I was afraid he would just shove that whole meat inside my ass, and he knew it. He started fucking me hard. He let go on my neck and was grabbing my hips with both hands, moving me roughly. It wasn´t him who was shoving his cock inside me, he was actually pulling and pushing my pussy up and down to him. At some point he was using my boobs as handlers to do it, and then he was again sucking and biting them while he went deeper and harder. I could feel his balls squeezing against my asshole, deep as he was. He was roaring and moaning as an animal, forcing my legs to spread, he actually grabbed his iPhone and started filming or taking closeup pictures of my pussy being mercilessly banged. By then, I couldn't care less. I could barely feel when he stopped fucking my pussy, so sour, hot and swollen it was. But I did feel when he grabbed my hair. That hurted, I screamed, or tried to. Because he had got up and forced me to bend me to my knees up on the bed, then rubbed his wet cock all over my face before choking me with it. I tasted a bit of blood, it was obvious I was hurt.

-Oooh... suck me, you bitch. Swallow it all.
One hand kept my hair caught, obligating me to go forward and backwards on his cock, gagging me from any screaming. The other slapped me hard on my butt. I could feel it getting red and hot from the spanking. I looked up to him, he had still that cold looks and -fuck - how sexy the motherfucker was. He pierced his eyes in mine and gave me that sadistic smile. By that moment I had no idea whatsoever what I was feeling anymore. I had never been that humiliated, I had never been that mistreated, I had never felt so horny. The sleeping pills made me so stoned I was the perfect victim for that date rape. I was even shutting down for some times, because  things started to happen in flashes. He was choking me with his dick, he was fucking my tits, he was rubbing his cock in my face, forcing it down my throat while grabbing my neck straight, so he could shove it deeper. I dunno how much time had been passed since he was abusing me, but I couldn't fight against the effect of the sleeping pills anymore. Everything was getting blurred. I closed my eyes and passed out.

I woke up with something cold being shoved to my pussy. I screamed, but then noticed I was gagged. My hands were tied together, my legs were tied spreaded, to the bounds of the bed. I couldn't turn back to see him, but he leaned over me gently, kissing my neck and caressing my shoulders.

-I love you. - He whispered in my ear. And turned on the vibrator he had just pushed inside my pussy. For one second, my body relaxed. I felt his hands down to my back, massaged my hips and spreaded my butt. Then there was something hot and moist to my asshole. And by then it was already too late to try any escape - as if I could.

He took the vibrator off my pussy and dived his entire cock inside my asshole at once. Then he took his dick out and fucked my pussy with the vibrator again. And out. And I felt his cock ripping out my butthole again. And then started fucking it hard, in and out. He shoved the dildo back inside my pussy and left it there while he was unraveling my asshole deeper and harder as ever. I was desperately screaming and moving, but all tied, that was useless. He was roaring again, saying a bunch of stuff I could not understand, I felt my clit so hard it was rubbing against the sheets and at some point I exploded into an squirting orgasm that expelled the dildo from inside my pussy. My body was shaken, I contracted my butt and felt him cumming inside my asshole, that hot stuff squirting into me, he screamed as an animal grabbing my ass so hard I could feel his nails hurting my skin.




He layed down, not on top, but beside me, panting. I could notice he was devastated, but still put a huge effort in untie me. The last thing he freed me from was the gag. And kissed me, softly and gently as he always did. His eyes were sweeter than ever and he caressed my hair with a passionate smile.

-I love you.

And this enslaved me forever.

.

Spring feelings (a.k.a Lyhyt romanssi)

So, spring is here. I'm amazed of no matter how dead the city might look, flowers still blossom everywhere. I especially love the species of tree we call "ipe". By this time of the year, they mostly doesn't have just one single leaf, instead, they get totally covered by flowers. Some trees grows yellow ones, some other has purple ones, white ones, pink ones. And these colors paint the city in a remembrance that there is still a lot to love in this world.
Sunday woke up and is already late, but yet I lay here, struggling to get up. Sometimes before I open my eyes, I pretend i'm still on a bed faraway, having his arm as a pillow and his heartbeat for lullaby. I wonder if many people out there were at least once, at least half as happy as I was back then. As I still hope to be at some point, when I get flashed by that shining eyes again. That impression they can look straight into my soul, the sight that makes me smile uncontrollably to the point I feel I'm the silliest happier person in the world, as if it's a sight of heaven indeed. What would you feel if you were touched by an angel, if you could ride an unicorn, if you found the gold in the end of the rainbow?  Maybe there are not such things in this world: they are only allegories of a happiness few can believe to find. In this world, the best we can get is to feel it. And I do, since I found him.

But for now, I walk only with this heartwarming memory through the flower carpet of our spring. That's what's up for today.

The true story of how I became a woman. Really.

Truly, is amazing how the most popular posts here are Mr. Red ones. I'm starting to believe you readers are more interested in him than in me...That's okay, me too am more interested in him than in most of you readers, and I also think my life gets bit more interesting when he's around. Specially in sexy flesh and hot blood. Yeah...maybe he's not that imaginary afterall. Just most of the time.

Actually, I feel like confessing you all something that took me some time to admit, even to myself, and I hope this helps some of you guys to be more attentious to it. When I arrived from my Not-So-Lonely-moon I was sitting with a bunch of female friends I haven't been seeing for a long time, and after a whole lot of beers and a pack of cigarettes we started entering on this subjects we just don't tell- not even to your best friends. And after hearing a couple of interesting stories, I had to come up with this.

-You know, I always loved sex and I mostly get to the orgasm everytime I have it, one way or another. But I had never got to cum by just being penetrated, without any other stimulation... I started my sexual life by 20 and by 26 I was already getting worried and thinking there were sure something wrong with me.

The girls said nothing. So I went on.

-One day I read an interview from a sexual therapist and she said that she herself had never got an orgasm before turning 30, so I kinda got relieved. But 30 came, and I didn't. Well, until...two weeks ago.

And then the girls were really interested. I laughed.

-It was so nice, you know...because I felt it coming - we always do - and I started moaning higher and higher, feeling his cock up to here - and I pointed to my womb - I almost stared crying, so happy I was. Really, I felt firecrackers all over. It was the best fuck of my life, for sure. I really feel more like a woman now. It is indeed amazing. It is powerful, and I really felt like celebrating.

-What did you do? - one of the girls laughed.
-Well, I took him downstairs for a smoke.
-Didn't you tell him?
-Of course not! What would he take me for?
-A cumming girl? - the other smiled.
-Nah, this is not the things you confess so easily. Because it somehow used to make me feel bad, actually. And besides, this would mean to confess his cock didn't make me cum all the other times before that, and we had quite a few.
-Well, you left saying you wanted something new from this vacation and it seems that in fact, you had..!
-Indeed..!

But one of the girls were pretty silent. We all looked to her and she ended up saying.

-Well...I'm glad I'm not the only one then.

I smiled.

-Don't worry. It will happen at some point. Now I'm pretty fucking sure of it.

If she ever find a guy like mine, oh boy, she will. Even if it take ten years or so.

Ten to midnight

"Drained out to the last drop of sanity
I let reason tighten the laces of this straight jacket
Hear me from a distance
If my voice is still strong enough to be listened
A wild ride through the time lapse
That separates truth from reality
Words that are now outdated, but still it bangs like a hangover
Counting sins, collecting flaws, breeding hate on the lower grounds
Raise your sword not to bend your knees
Fair enough for a game one can never win
Life gets shorter each step forward
And when I have only one last breath
Your name will be my whisper..."


- What are you thinking about?
- Life.
- Is it good, or is it bad?
- I dunno, I'm not alive yet.

I'd wake up happier...

...if I could make love to you first thing every morning.

It's wonderful when waking up is better than dreaming.

Still a dream, though...

Quitting this shit out

Know what? I might be totally bipolar, but I guess it's ridiculous to go on with this "low self esteem" talk. I just read the last post and truly, I just won't erase that shit as a reminder to myself of how ridiculous it actually is. I might work for a stupid company full of idiots, but nobody ever said my work is not good enough. Besides, fuck society and its hypocrite rules, it's already been a while since I decided not to give a fuck, and I´m doing it well so far. Indeed, I will never fit this world as long as I insist to be myself. And that's precisely what gets me down every now and then: I dunno why, I feel this need to dance to their music. Every now and then something convinces me that life would be easier if I just settled down and bend to the normality. This never works. Just gets me down instead.

Fact is, I never got anything from life by being normal. That's precisely why most wonderful things in my life are so extraordinary. Yeah, I will never have a business career. And probably will never know what stability means. I don't even get friends with stable people! My life won't be the way I was planning, nothing will happen the way it´s supposed to, because for a start, I kinda refuse to be what I'm probably supposed to.

This is me. Take me or leave me. Or whatever you want.
I might do the same.

As if you cared

I know I've been away. Unfortunately, not as away as I was supposed to. I still come online to facebook, tweet and check the stats of this crap. Just haven't been writting because, really, there's nothing useful to say. I've been feeling like shit for a bunch of reasons, and blogging about this somehow makes me feel stupid, specially when some people comes to say "hey, don't be like this, you're a wonderful, beautiful, loved person, blah, blah, blah.". Even more when this people are ones in fact, I don't even know. Or worse: ones that I do know: and I know they actually don't give a shit. Yeah, I do eventually make public my shitty self esteem. But believe me: if you don't get an alike inbox, this means you are not in the list of the ones who can help, so don't even bother to give a fuck. Make it a please.

Just a cruel joke

Once more Red

-I need you.

 I didn't care if he was sleeping, fucking or whatsoever. I called him at once and there he was. Ready to satisfy my dreams. Or something. I just wanted him to have me the hardest way, fingers playing me as an instrument, my body surrendered to his. I needed to feel his strong hands hitting me, harder and harder as he fucked me. Yes, big guy, you can rape me anyway you want. I´m a slave for you. I´m whatever you want me to be. Just fuck me. Squeeze my breasts and suck me that way you always make me cum. I´ll cum for for you, over and over again, just the thinking about your dick inside me makes me shiver. Your voice...gosh, now it´s the sexiest memory ever. Slip down my panties, I want to feel you inside me. I need to get your hands all over me and smell your chic parfum, so I´ll know I wasn´t dreaming.
 Enough with the dreaming, it´s time for some action. I want you to fuck me in the dirtiest way you know or you could even imagine, and fuck, that feels so good..! Hit me once, twice, harder : I wanna make you scream. Put your fingers and your cock inside me, fill me up as only you can. I´m yours to take, I´m taken. I´m a fucking idiot, but still a good fuck.
 he slid his fingers inside my pussy, his cock was all up in my ass. Harder, I´d scream, harder he´d go. As a bitch I was being fucked, filled, screwed out all my morals and shame.

He was choking me with his dick and stretching my asshole with his fingers while french kissing my pussy deeply. I was drooling all over his cock, licking his balls, caressing his asshole with the tip of my tongue, I wanted to swallow him whole. He was sucking my clit, finger fucking me both holes, I had his dick held in between my tits while my lips moved around its head. He came all over me in a hot shot to my face, so fucking delicious that made me cum in his mouth too.


In and out, his fingers slowly moved inside me after the shockwave. I'd kiss his softened cock as a caress before turning downside up to see his face. Eyes and lips closed, one arm up, head to the side, he seemed to be dead tired, about to sleep. The black tattoos contrasting with the white skin, the messy hair all over the pillow, he was a rebel angel in Morpheus arms. The fallen prince that came to my life to show me every little piece of bittersweet we can get from this existence.

In times like these, it's hard to believe he's nothing but a figment of my imagination.

Mind Control

I was fucking around online and I found this interesting discussion: "does mind control works on people who actually thinks?". It got me thinking for a while.

Point is: what is a person who "thinks" ? Is it someone who questions? Someone who stands for something? Because fact is that the world is full of people who thinks differently in the same way. Are they thinking at all?

To make a long philosophy short: maybe mind control only doesn´t work with people whose mind doesn't fit in any standards. Because you can reprogram any point of view that´s already set. You can changed any formed opinions and mess up anything that you can figure out - but who can control a mind that works in unique ways? How can you fix a system that you have no idea how it works?
Any mind is controlable, but the crazy ones.

 That's my theory. And my hope.

What a life..!

Wake up. Jogging. Shower. Office. Drink coffee. Write. Drink water. Take a piss. Smoke. Drink water. Write. Drink water. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Write. Eat a sandwich. Smoke. Drink water. Write. Take a piss. Drink coffee. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Write. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Write. Write. Write. Drink coffee. Smoke. Take a piss. Write. Drink water. Write. Write. Drink water. Smoke. Take a piss. Home. Write. Sleep.

No wonder I'm depressed.

A flick of imaginary love

Finally home, dead tired. Still filled with emotions I can't really figure out. Bad impressions of myself, my life, my world.  I look at the empty bed, to where he's supposed to be.

-I'm here - his voice came to me. I could feel the soft touch of his skin in mine. Guided by the lighthouse of his eyes I could find the taste of his lips. Hot as the summer should be, we embraced in silence. Instead of burning in desire, my heart was filled with the most tender peace I´ve ever felt.

And suddenly that was all that I needed.

Smells like disillusion

Something's terribly wrong. I dunno if it's me or the world, problem is that the more I think it's the world, the worse I feel about me. I may be grumpy and irritable sometimes, but I'm hardly a depressive person. But that's pretty much how I am feeling right now. Sad, as if suddenly all the hope had been ripped off my heart. As if I would never be happy again. I look at the future and I can actually see it, but for the first time in my life it doesn´t seem so bright and appealing.

Feel like I just knew I already went through all the golden moments of my life. As if I just knew I already ran out of joyful occasions in this existence.

Today when I was leaving work, I knew a big fire burnt something like 200 shacks of a shantytown close to where I live. Lives changed drastically today. I can still smell the broken dreams, the hopes, the pain and delight of the way more than thousand people who lost everything.

Did I lose something too..?

My soul is tired. But it will be hard to sleep tonight.

Been singing this in my mind all day...

Kickass Party

Last night I went to a kids birthday party. I love it, because it usually means a lot of tasty trash like hot dogs, popcorn, chicken balls, looooooooooooots of candy and hardly any bothering drunk adults listening to shitty music and embarassing themselves. If at a children´s party they think it´s shameful to pose for a picture with Cinderella, they should see them doing the macarena at the office´s happy hour.

The invitation said that we could go wearing costumes. I don´t remember reading that applies just to the kids, so I wanted to wear one too, but my Batman nightgown was at the laundry, and I don't think a sexy nurse would fit the occasion, so I just worn a regular grey and white dress and my leather jacket, but still my daughter would say I was dressed as a cave woman ( I guess it was because of the dress patterns that looked bit as stone, bit as animal print ). To my niece, I was one of the Monster High characters. Great, for the girls I was a pre historic living dead. With a full filled breastline. But still didn't catch the eyes of the prince, who only danced with Cinderella.

My 5 yro daughter, however, think she´s got the catch of the night: instead of hanging around with Tinkerbell, Rapunzel and the other princesses, she was playing Guitar Hero with Flynn Rider. The little spanish gipsy and a Disney thief. Should had filmed that, hopefully someone did.

And now that the fairytale is done, it´s time for Monday..

She did say that:

"Men who have pierced ears are better prepared for marriage. They've experienced pain and bought jewelry."

Asstrology

By the way, I´m an Aquarius.

Damn, this shit works..!

Definitely unsexy

So, here I am, after a full day at work, sitting on the toilet, trying to relax and get rid of the shit of life. Yes, you got that right. And don't give me that disgusted looks, for I know you often do the same thing. at least once a day, if you're a healthy being. I just think that if I'm shameless enough to think you guys enjoy reading about things going up my intimates, there's no point in hiding the truth that eventually things get down them, too.
I actually wonder how many times we're reading sweet things from that gorgeous people on Facebook or blogs, and they are actually sitting on the toilet, cutting the toe nails or doing even more bizarre everyday tasks. It never happened to me of asking "What´s up?" to some friend and get "I'm taking a crap" as an answer. But  I´m pretty sure in fact it might had been true at some point.


Okay, I don't think physiological needs are sexy or cool, but hey, it´s part of life. To burp, fart and stuff. Comes with the package, and although it can indeed be rude to share it with the world, I think society is bit paranoid about it. Like this friend of mine, who went on vacation with her boyfriend for the first time. They spent 10 days in Mexico, which means a lot of beans, chilli and corn, right? And for these 10 days, she never made it to the toilet. Reason alleged: they were sharing a bathroom and she would never live through the fact he could want to the toilet right after she had pooped, and he could still smell it. "Well" - I said - "Couldn´t you just  give him a good humoured warn, like 'If I were you, I wouldn't go in there right now?'. Nah, she said she didn't even feel like doing it for the whole vacation, so nervous she was on that possibility. I wonder how she didn't got sick...

Shit happens. Indeed.

Consequences

If I don't have sex, I eat a lot of chocolate

If I don't eat a lot of chocolate, I smoke too much.

If I don't smoke too much, I drink a lot of coffee

If I don't drink a lot of coffee, I don't feel like doing anything at all.

What would I do if I can't fuck, eat chocolate, smoke and drink coffee, anyways..?

All work and no play makes Hamalka a dull girl...

Quick review

Last night I started reading the so-called best seller "50 Shades of Gray" and already gave it up.
C' mon, my imaginary sex life is 50 times more exciting than that.
And if I had a real one, I sure wouldn't be wasting time on those books...

Hairy issue

I was just reading a funnytragic issue about waxing. Or else, about the lack of it. Girls that decided to let their body hair grow freely, on the armpits, face, eyebrows and bikini line. Mostly, they do it to contest beauty standards, it's a feminist thing (at least what they call feminism down here at H-Land). But that issue is actually saying this might become a fashion trend.
Wha-ha-at? Come on, I hope it does. It will be fabulous to see all that fashion models and followers looking like anorexic gorillas. I wanna see the Victoria´s Secret Angels raising their arms and showing their natural growth pompons. I can't wait for the summer, when the beaches will be full of bikini bushes. That would sure be a freakshow.

Thankfully I was never a fashion freak .I get crazy only in waiting during intervals to clean up my eyebrows.

Sorry, trendies, but I´ll stick to my brazilian wax probably until I´m too old to care, or to grow hair at all.

Gotta share this fine piece of art...

Monday bravery

I have five minutes to get out of this bed, put some sneakers on and go jogging. Instead, I´m here in my pajamas, lights still out, blogging this very important post and trying to sabotage my own routine.

Better to focus on all the new lingerie I wanna buy and look good on it.

One...two...three...here I go!

This button would be very useful

Sounds like someone I know

"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."

-The Catcher in the Rye
Holden Caulfield in Chapter 1, opening words of book

Hiding highs

Saturday at home. Don't feel like going anywhere, so I´ll probably spend the night online, smoking and writing bullshit I know I'll never read. I was actually thinking about removing my old blog from the internet, but I guess I´m not doing that. Let it rot by itself, if I never feel like writing there again. Problem is that everybody who reads that knows who I am, and I feel more confortable now writing almost anonymously like I do here. Of course there are few readers who know me here, but they are the few privileged ones for whom I should have nothing to hide, for they respect me, even me being this unrespectable lady sometimes. C'mon, maybe I´m human. I have a lot of shit in my mind every now and then, just like you.

I was talking to some girl friends the other day, about this other blog I used to write when I was younger and (very) naive. It was a kind of personal social magazine about  me and the people who were popular on our group by that time. I had this idea that would be fun to write trivia about people by then. Nowadays I think it´s just stupid. Tobias Sammet, a guy who sings on a band once twitted: "why would people be interested in what I had for breakfast?" Well, I have no clue, but fact is that they are. Specially if you are knowed.


Fangirls (and boys) are such an interesting phenomena. Yes, I´ve been through this stage myself. When I was a teenager there was no internet to browse, so I collected every piece of magazines and news I could about my idols. Madonna, Metallica, Rubens Barrichello, Ayrton Senna, The Backstreet Boys. Then came the on line living and I collected and printed a lot of stuff on Johnny Lang and Savatage. Then I kinda grew up on this, but was always browsing for stuff about people I was interested on: bands, musicians, actors and actresses.
But when social media came along, than I realized the funniest thing to do is to browse about my friends and anonymous people that are weird and no afraid to show it. In Youtube days everyone can be famous, if just really shameless. Or badly busted.
I am not a pop blogger anymore. Better this way. Once I went to this club, and I hadn´t been writting for a couple of years anymore, when two girls came and asked to take a picture with me. That was funny and stupid. Of course they didn´t read my blog to know about me, but about the people I used to hang out with. For them, I was privileged. For me, I was just a gossiper. As like, or even worse than that annoying people from TMZ or E! , since I was actually writting about people I mostly knew and were kind of friends with. What the hell was I thinking?


Well, time went by and though I decided to stop blabbing about other people´s lives I was stupid enough to blab about my own when I started dating a (very) local celebrity. Again, I have no idea what I had in mind. I thouhght It was a good thing to shout to the world about our love or something. "Hey, people, the guy is mine" was also an intended message, that of course went way wrong. Envy is a powerful poison, I guess, that comes invisibly to our lives. Good thing is that I learnt how to deal with anonymous harrassment and narrowed people blabbing as few. The bad part is that I got even more sure that the world in general is made of such a brand of idiots that sometimes I feel sorry I have to share this planet with them.
I´m happily not with that douchebag anymore, but still today his "fangirls" love to search my life, probably just to feel nice about how right they were in thinking I´m not worthy him. Way to go, bitches ! I just regret I didn´t listen to you before. I´m definitely worthy way more than that..!
 But if they can talk, so do I. And now I  write my stuff to sign "Miss I Don't Give A Fuck".For most of you don´t even know if I'm real, or some badass fat drunk old motherfucker avatar.

Go ahead and browse. I dare you to figure me out.

Sometimes...

Fuck innocence, I´m pissed.

How come they take my favourite video out of redtube..?!

Innocence, for a change

Weekend´s here again. The best part about spending the whole week at the office, working my eyes off, is that I learn to give proper value to weekends. Nowadays I don´t party that much. I mourned about its reasons before, so I won't waste my time or yours with this shit. There's just too much I'd like to be living right now, still I can't complain about the way my life has been going. If there´s a time for everything probably time has come for me to shut the fuck up and take the course of the fate a little bit.

Yeah, it´s friday. And I´m off to play dolls with my kid.
Life can be perfect when we have someone to play with.

Light as a feather

I must confess that I was never much into sex toys. I had a vibrator once, but I think vibrator orgasms are boring. Too fast and mechanical. Orgasms are a thing you must taste and enjoy, like a good wine or chocolate, even masturbating. And I never had a fake dick or something. When I fuck, I fuck. When I masturbate, I masturbate. If I´m touching myself while getting fucked, it´s not masturbation, as much as shoving cold things in my pussy by myself is not fucking - and not my thing. Each one to one´s pleasure.

But it seems that this time I found something really interesting at an adults toy store: this cuddly pink feather. What does it do? It tickles. Softly and innocently. Great inspiration for this relaxing moments when I sit here with my glass of red wine and try to get rid of all the stress from the day past.

And red as my wine and my dreams, he comes to tickle me. All undress, I spread myself to him, feeling that caress that arouses me and makes me wet for more. His kiss of wine and cigarettes turns me on as we breath deeply at the same rythm. I burn in love and desire for his body in mine while all I can feel is the light touch of the feathers between my legs. "Tonight I´ll make you beg." He whispers. I am already begging. For his hands all over me, that hot lips sliding through my shoulders. The scent of his skin bathed in sweat and perfume, the sight of his face, eyes shut, head up, lips that moan a feeling I can only guess to share. Oh, that face I'd sell my soul to stare for the rest of my life, that haunts me as a glimpse of an angel, born as human just for the pleasure of the ones he has touched. He moves me and pleases my body and my spirit, and I have no choice but to surrender. Deep inside me in every way I feel whole. Splashed in his cum I was baptized as lover, and for gift I got everything I can do to keep him satisfied. My naughtiest dreams and hidden passions, my hunger desires and dirtiest secrets, I crave for his touch and give all in a tray. My cunt dripping wet pays its honours with an overwhelming orgasm.

And again it is just me.

Religious crap

Long way home

Today, for the first time since I arrived from heaven and went back to hell work, I got to leave the office at 6 p.m , as I should everyday, but due to the shitload of things to do, this just never happens. Well, I already had this hunch, but today I got pretty sure that it´s useless anyway. I live 7 km away from that damn office, but getting out at six means precisely it will take me at least one hour and a half to get home. Rush hour on Hamalkaland: 700 cars to each thousand inhabitants. Not because we're wealthy, but because public transportation just doesn´t work. Bah, no news, here. Point is that this year we´re electing a new mayor, and I have not a slightest idea of who to support. It´s always the same people and they´re all proven to be shitty managers. Maybe I´ll vote for that hippie girl: she might try legalize cannabis. So the city can go to shit, but I won´t even notice that.
Politics actually makes me feel down. Here the minimum age to vote is 16, but it´s not mandatory until you are 18. I remember the first thing I did the day after I turned 16 was to get my documents to vote and take part on public assembly. Such a waste of time, now I know that. What to say? I was young and so full of dreams... Even if I became a politician myself, I would never get to change all this chaos. So, screw politics, life sucks, it won´t be getting any better than this, in fact it´s all for the worse, at least for some years yet (while the old school politicians are still alive). No need / use to give a fuck: better focus on my life, that has been unusually great, and try to be a good neighbour to the ones I can reach. Share a bit of my happiness. Pay it forward all the things I´m thankful for.


And they are way bigger than any traffic jam at 6 p.m.

@ the office

When the day ends

"I dunno why, I try not to make theories about it, but fact is I´m feeling a bit blue these days. Maybe is the lack of sleep: since I got off the plane my life has been quite a hurricane: I was expecting to spend at least one month trying to find a new job, for example. But I made it back home on sunday and was at the office on monday. Had a hell out of a busy week, and on weekend there was this family party that went trough the night. After that, my daughter got sick. Ah, the glamour of motherhood: I haven´t been sleeping for two nights in a row, while she burns in fever and wakes up crying and throwing up every fifteen minutes. And by dawn, when she finally sleeps, I gotta get back to the office again.
Yes, this is really stressful and might be the reason I think I´ve been feeling down.

Actually, I've been feeling stupid. I wish I was an intelligent girl. Clever, at least. But everyday I have more and more this impression I´m nothing but stupid. My head doesn´t work right, I can´t do some things that seem so easy to most people. I can´t even deal with people right. And I wish I could care more about some things that are going on nowadays around me, but damn, I never felt more like don´t giving a flying fuck for anything."


I gave up. I was just so stressed that I couldn't go on writing anything that made any sense anymore. During the day, to keep up the work running I had massive doses of coffee and sugar, and then, no matter how tired I was, I just couldn´t get any sleep. The house was on perfect silence, and so was the whole neighbourhood. It seems everybody was already in bed, but me. So I started doing pretty useless stuff in order to get bored and knocked out.

-What are you doing? -he asked, and his voice itself was already enough to make me shiver.

-I am working after hours - I answered, without looking back, pretty sure he was there, looking straight to me, as sexy as he is.

-Shit you are. I´ve been here for a while, and I saw you on Facebook.

-I was just kidding, and I´m going to take a shower now.

I closed the computer and got up from the bed heading to the bathroom, but he got me in the way. Grabbed my arm and looked deep in my eyes.

-You´re sure in need of a shower. You are such a dirty girl.


He started stripping me from the pants. He unbuttoned my jeans and slid down my panties that were already getting wet. I felt his hand grabbing my pussy and his middle finger rubbing my clit, just teasing, spreading all that juice between my legs and up to my asshole. I closed my eyes in delight and moaned softly when he started penetrating me with his fingertips. His other hand was caressing my breasts from over the black t-shirt I made mention to take it off, but he stopped me.

- I´ll do it.

With both hands, he pulled my shirt bit up, enough to uncover my breasts still held on a white lace bra. He grabbed them both off the cups and sucked until my shy nipples got hard and red, a bit sore even, but it was sure more pleasure than pain. Then he went on pulling my shirt up, I raised my arms to get it off, but instead he stopped at the wrists and tied my hands together with the t-shirt so tight I couldn´t get off that unexpected handcuffs. Then he pushed me back to bed and held my arms still up while he climbed on me, and with the free hand, pulled his dick out his jeans. The son of a bitch didn´t even bother to take his clothes off before rubbing his huge cock against my boobs, my mouth and my face. I could already taste him, and felt my pussy dripping in anxiety to swallow him whole.

But he proceeded fucking my tits instead. Slid that hot dick slowly between my breasts and made me suck its head. He was looking me straight into the eyes, and eventually closed his and roared in pleasure. I could feel his cock getting even bigger between my now moist and reddened boobs, it was pulsating inside my mouth and I wish he´d come all over my face right then, but I knew it was just a start.

He got off me and turned me butts up, to the edge of the bed. With my arms caught under my body I was in no escaping position. I could listen to him taking off his clothes in a second, while I felt one of his hands and then the other spreading my legs and pussy.

-Oh, fuck..! - I moaned when felt his tongue all inside me. Soon I was all filled up, with his hungry mouth all over my clit while his fingers fucked me deep. I could feel  two moving fast and softly inside my pussy and one going in and out my ass, hard and slow. The sensation was just too much to describe. Eventually, he slapped my butt and I could feel the skin turning hot . I asked him to hit harder.


- A dirty bitch, indeed...- he laughed - look at you...you just have no choice but being my filthy whore tonight.
 I almost screamed, with his fingers inside me. Suddenly he pulled my legs up on the bed again and turned me on my back. His huge hands were now smelling like sex and he grabbed my face by the jaws, forcing me to open my mouth, as I wasn´t dying to choke on his cock. And while he made me take it whole down to my throat, he laid on top of me, holding my legs open while he french kissed my pussy. He was sucking and licking me as he went deeper and harder on my mouth, I couldn´t breathe or scream but I´d die happy if I had to come right at that moment. I felt his cock pulsating inside my throat and I was pretty sure he´d feed me with his cum.


But I got loosen from the ties, and grabbed him by the balls, softly and literally. When he noticed I had my hands free, he tried to get me captive again, but now it was my turn to play. I got him laid down and gave him back: I was about to ride that delicious cock as a naughty cowgirl. I held him with my hands and rubbed against my pussy a little so he could feel me hot and wet while I decided if I wanted to take that cock on my pussy or my ass. I guided his dick to my asshole, carefully not to get hurt. Only the tip went in a few times before it was hot and loose enough so I could actually take him whole inside my butt.

His arms then embraced me and it took just a litle touch of his fingers on my clit for me to come like crazy while he hugged me from behind, his dick all shoved inside me, his hands grabbing my tits and my pussy. It was almost a squirting orgasm for I could feel the juice dripping out and making his dick go even deeper and harder. I couldn´t take that anymore, I screamed and my body got loose up on his, I was feeling like a sex doll, worn out and hypnotized by his sexy growing roar from what I could barely figure the words he was saying. He grabbed me by the tits to fuck me and came closer to my ear to say in a whisper: Take all my cum inside your ass.

I didn´t take it all. I could feel something hot leaking by the time he filled me up. His body got tense, than shaking loose . His heartbeat was so loud it almost echoed in the room. I could feel its vibrations while we kissed deeply, surrendered to each others arms.

So, I shut my eyes for a moment, and when I realized, Mr. Red was gone.

And I´m off to that shower at last. After writing down all this, I´m definitely in need of some clean panties...

Shit, this blog is getting more x-rated than I ever thought it would...

Corporative cattle

Ookay, time for some grumpiness here: today I got a remarkable reminder of why I hate working for a big enterprise. We were all fully buried in work, and still had to waste almost two of my precious hours in a meeting where two guys were talking about how neat and honoured is to work for that company. You know, this motivational stuff almost always gets me demotivate. I mean: okay, it´s a good company and they pay me right, but why would I celebrate as if it was my daughter's birthday because they are making a million a day? Where are all this money going? Not to my paycheck, for sure...

Then they started showing a video of the last "business meeting" they promoted. It was mostly about the sales team at the beach, dressed as seamen, drinking, partying and making stupid preschool tasks such as drawings, banners and even assembling a paper card boat. What the fuck..?! What does this has to do with e-commerce, for goat´s sake?! It was funny, indeed, but come on: nothing justifies the eyes full of tears of some of my colleagues when the boss is talking about growing 421% a year. None of us owns the company, most of us are actually small fishes there, so, why such a comotion? They talk as if the company was our father, mother and religion, and the most incredible is that it seems that people are actually buying it!
I remember a time when I was working as a screenplay writer for motivational videos to big corporations. It was pretty hard, actually, since not even I, the moron queen, can come up with so much shit to treat businesspeople as 6 year old retarded kids. I felt sorry for them. That´s when I decided I would never like to be treated as corporative cattle.

And look what I've got now..! Must be a bad karma. I´m pretty sure it is.
Oh, the things I do for money... to have stuff money just can´t buy.

Morning poetry

Personal whore

 And wanna know what? Yeah, maybe I´m deeply sick, but there´s something that excites me about showing off to the world how great fuck I am, but you´ll never get it because I´m taken. Fuck feminism on this point: I like to be exhibited and enjoyed by the one I love. It´s an  aphrodisiac feeling to know the guy by your side feels sexually priviledged in having you. If a girl feels humiliated by this, she is the one who´s giving away this privilege so easily. If any or many can say that is fucking you and you´re not proud of it, then you´re a whore. But that one guy can say whatever he wants: he´s fucking me because he can, and he can because I want to.

Call me your bitch and do it out loud so everyone will know it. I´m a bitch
Yours only.

Wet thoughts

One of the things I found out about myself during these days is that maybe I´m a little bit more sexually insane than I thought. Not that I was shy or contained before, but maybe I wasn´t just so open hearted as I thought I was. Or even, I wasn´t so self assured and confortable to really - I mean, really - enjoy some things without reservations and guilty.
I like to come, I love the sensation of that heatwave that shakes my body and makes me wet, I like to get aroused. I used to watch a lot of porn ever since I was a virgin, waiting for the man I would be meant to please. For some narrow minded  people it might be hard to believe, but I was virgin until my 20´s and still I can count my night stands on my fingers. Instead of fucking around, sex had become so important in my life that I prefere to make big deal of it: it must take something special to happen: an uncontrollable urge, or else I prefere to have fun on my own. You know, I don´t exactly need somebody to make me come. I can do it very well by myself, and I don´t even need to worry about calling the day next. Mr. Red, my imaginary sex friend is pretty great, and he recently learnt a whole lot of new tricks that might keep me fed for some time now. His voice dirty talks to make me crazy at anytime of the day, I hear him whispering in my ear "I´ll cum inside your ass" and feel my panties getting wet. Fuck me hard, fuck me deep, I´ll suck you to choke if you just ask me again.Climb up on me, give me that look, that roar, hold me hard and give me no escape from your hungry mouth between my legs.
Hit me harder, I like it. Fuck me roughly. Fill me up.
And then let me fall asleep to your heartbeat on the satin shelter of the arms I love.

Dress me up

I don´t care about having to wake up early for work. Okay, in winter this can be really difficult, but my problem was never actually to get off the bed- my problem is to get off the house. First because it implies that I have to choose something to wear, and believe it or not, you readers, I am a girl who simply hates fashion and trying a bunch of outfits.Of course I like to look nice, but problem is that my sense of nice has nothing to do with common sense, I think. I can see an outfit and immediately know if I like it or not, but I suck with dress codes, and  unfortunately where I live people tend to judge you by your clothes and the way you dress. No wonder why nobody has a clue of who I am...

This time I decided I won´t bother anymore. I´ll wear pretty much the same pair of jeans, t-shirts and my ten years old favourite sweater everyday. And fuck the purse, I´m using my backpack: it´s so easier to carry and I can fit a lot of stuff in there if I need to. Of course I don´t, because of the weight, but you never know when you might need some space.

I need to find a good seamstress, so I can have the clothes I want the way they fit me. You know, I don´t have a common figure, if I may say so, and most outfits don´t suit me so fine, so the best ones were tailor made. Problem is that as much as I don´t like to go shopping, I also have no patience of going to a seamstress to take measures and try the clothes. Actually I would love to know how to sew myself the outfits I want, but I tried hard to learn the magic, and ended up pretty sure it´s a talent, as cooking, gardening or playing an instrument. I won´t starve and I can fix some loose buttons, but I can barely ring a doorbell in tune. And I never tried gardening again since my cactus died. It was like breaking a Nokia phone : I felt miserable when I found out I was capable of doing that.

Gee, just looked at the clock and noticed I´m running late. Time for shower, my boring clothes and off to work. Today it will be a heavy shitty busy day, but at least it´s friday and there will be beer at the office after 6 p.m

Feet on the ground

These days made me also think a lot about the directions I should give to my life from now on. I wanted a vacation "out of my life" and I got it in a way I could actually see myself from a completely different point of view, and this helped a lot reviewing my goals, my feelings, my hopes and dreams and all the ambitions I might have. All of my life I was always the easy living that prefered not to worry (or even not to care), maybe because I didn´t actually had a figure of what my existence was. Now I picture a story that is completely different from what I expected, in a surprisingly good way, and the road to the future seems clear : it may be still bit far away, but I can see it from here, and this is sure a beginning. I have always been impulsive and trusted so much in a star  that now I see I was just way too fucking lucky I never got into huge troubles cruising for bruising like that. I was all the time head diving with my eyes closed and was just plain fucking luck that I never hit shallow waters.

Well, I´m not saying I won´t trust my intuition or take any risks anymore, but I am pretty sure by now that I can go on with knowledge instead of blind faith ( or inconsequence?)
I won´t say I grew wiser, but I sure grew older, and point is that I might just not be too good humorous anymore to take the consequences if something goes wrong, now. No time to loose. If I want it all and I want it now, I might as well go get it.

Dreaming is not over, but reality is just beginning...

And maybe it´s better than I thought.

Viva la vida!

Oh, yeah. For weeks you've seen me counting the days for the big event I called "lonelymoon". That in the end, as you may presume, I wasn´t expecting to be lonely at all. And it wasn´t: met a lot of people, made amazing new friends, got fucked hard and loved softly, and every morning I woke up for a new dream.Oh yeah, I wanted it all, a lifetime of excess, heavy drinking, heavy metal and overwhelming feelings.

For those who lived to seen it, build it and share it , my eternal gratitude and the certainty that none of you or those moments shall ever be forgotten.

Better than spend over 20 days drinking and never having a hangover is to spend over 20 days living with all your heart and never having a single hassle.

No, it wasn´t exactly what I was expecting.
It was more, way further more. And now I don´t just think  I am the luckiest girl in the world because of that.

I´m pretty fucking SURE I am.
Who´d to say?

Life is made of choices

The dream is over

Or,  "let´s call it a pause".

Indeed have a lot to tell, but I´ve been writing for over 14 hours straight now so,for now, to make a long story short:

Live for the moment. You´ll sure recognize the ones that are worth dying for.

Day 28 : GONE

I do have a lot to tell. I do have a lot to write. Just don´t have any more time left.
I´m outta here.

See you when the dream is over!

                                        Hamalka

Day 26: whaaaat...?

Fucking drunk again. And tonight fuck all the rules, I´m at myvery own farewell party, and even if I don't intend to be faraway for a very long time I think I have the right of becoming shitty wasted and stuff

Day 25: A piece of history

Five years ago, an airplane crashed into its own airline company building, killing 199 people. It was a night as cold as this. But life was different those days.

Today I went with my ally to the museum. Despite of the shitty weather and that we had to walk a thousand miles, it was pretty great. I love museums of old stuff from the past history. And that one is specially dear to me. It´s an old palace, and years ago I used to play princess on that gardens. I dreamed a lot among that flowers and fountains.

And one of those dreams is about to come true.

Tic, tac ,tic, tac...