<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24429320</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:26:31.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hisnherstoys</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24429320/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>HisnHersToys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12443931175027780825</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24429320.post-114339612296450419</id><published>2006-03-26T10:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T10:02:03.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HisnHersToys.com - - Adult Sex toys, adult toys, vibrators and marital</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.hisnherstoys.com/"&gt;HisnHersToys.com - - Adult Sex toys, adult toys, vibrators and marital&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24429320-114339612296450419?l=rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/feeds/114339612296450419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24429320&amp;postID=114339612296450419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24429320/posts/default/114339612296450419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24429320/posts/default/114339612296450419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/2006/03/hisnherstoyscom-adult-sex-toys-adult.html' title='HisnHersToys.com - - Adult Sex toys, adult toys, vibrators and marital'/><author><name>HisnHersToys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12443931175027780825</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24429320.post-114290407313702229</id><published>2006-03-20T17:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T17:21:13.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;A href="http://www.hisnherstoys.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Toys in HisnHersToys - Adult Sex Toys and   more!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/A&gt; 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(&lt;A href="http://www.hisnherstoys.com/waterproof-realistic-vibrator.html"&gt;waterproof   vibrators&lt;/A&gt;). &lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24429320-114290407313702229?l=rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/feeds/114290407313702229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24429320&amp;postID=114290407313702229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24429320/posts/default/114290407313702229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24429320/posts/default/114290407313702229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/2006/03/toys-in-hisnherstoys-adult-sex-toys.html' title=''/><author><name>HisnHersToys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12443931175027780825</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24429320.post-114290271631601945</id><published>2006-03-20T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T17:00:38.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday was the first time in ages that I actually had nothing on my mind but   fucking. It had been a long time since I'd woken up with sex on the brain and   couldn't think about anything else. It's been a pretty shitty summer for me and   even though I was enjoying my sex life as much as ever, it was taking me longer   to shift gears. I was often stressed and preoccupied and it would take me longer   than usual to get into "fuck" mode. Yesterday morning, I woke up with a wet   pussy in an empty bed and dusted off my favorite dildo to pleasure myself until   Ted was available. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always preferred dildos to vibrators and I've   always been especially averse to vibrators that have one of those   clit-stimulating protrusions, like the &lt;A href="http://www.hisnherstoys.com/rabbit-vibrator.html" target="_blank"&gt;Rabbit   vibrator&lt;/A&gt; that gained such popularity when it was pimped on Sex And The City   a few years ago. I know a lot of women who adore them but they've never been my   cup of tea. I like a lot of indirect clitoral stimulation. I like the tease of a   dildo pressing against my clit or pressing against my hole, pushing to get   inside. I like being able to hold the dildo in my hands, close my eyes,   manufacture a fantasy and imagine myself being teased and prodded. I like to   imagine myself wanting that cock inside me. I like to imagine myself reluctantly   taking it into my mouth and sucking it. I like to imagine a man's cock pressing   against my pussy and pounding me with it. With a dildo, I find I can re-create   the sensations better and more realistically than I can with a vibrator. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, a huge part of the fun in sex is working hard for that orgasm --   trying to maneuver myself in such a way that the guy's cock is hitting me where   I'm most sensitive, holding myself as still as possible when I feel the orgasm   building, feeling frustrated (and yet unbelievably turned on and ravenous) when   the guy's cock accidentally slips out or he shifts his position or he changes   his rhythm. With my dildo, I can tease myself just the way I like it and work   myself towards a mind-numbing cum. And now that I own a couple of those &lt;A href="http://www.hisnherstoys.com/cyberskin-european-cock-with-balls-p-1189.html" target="_blank"&gt;cyberskin dildos&lt;/A&gt; -- which I cannot recommend enough!!! -- I   find the teasing and sucking and fucking feels all the more real. It's the first   dildo I've owned that feels so similar to a man's cock that I get wet at the   most inopportune times just remembering how delicious it felt to cup the balls   in my hand and run my tongue around its head. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I took out the dildo   and played with it for a long, long time and teased myself until my pussy was so   wet that I could barely feel the dildo inside me any more, and then I came once   -- but one of those orgasms that explodes so ferociously that it's almost   painful. I ~love~ those orgasms. When I have one of those orgasms, I feel   drained and exhausted and content and usually roll around and fall right back   into a deep, deep sleep. Instead, I took a shower, masturbated in the shower,   came again and immediately called Ted to see what his plans were for the day. He   started reciting a litany of errands he had to run -- "And then I have to pick   up two suits at the dry cleaners, and I have to bring my watch to the   jeweller's, and then ..." -- but I interrupted him and said, bluntly, "I'm so   fucking horny I can't see straight. I already fucked myself with the dildo. I   masturbated in the shower. I'm still just fucking HORNY!" Ted paused and I could   ~see~ the smile on his face when he said, "Put the phone up to your cunt and let   me hear how wet you are." I put the phone between my legs and slid two fingers   inside myself, moving them around so he could hear the wetness being spread over   my pussy lips. He laughed: "You fucking bitch! I'll be there in half an   hour!"&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More like twenty minutes ;-)&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was still wearing nothing   but my robe when Ted came over. He kissed me and immediately put a hand between   my thighs. He slid a finger inside me and with his other hand, started to unzip   his pants. He continued to finger-fuck me while he took my hand and put it on   his cock. "See what you do to me?" he said. I looked down and saw that his cock   was rock hard. He took me by the sash of my robe and brought me into the   bedroom, sitting me down on the edge of the bed. "Suck me, cunt," he said. I   took his cock into my mouth -- Mmmm, it felt so big, so fucking hard, so ready   to explode -- and rolled my tongue around the head, building up the saliva in my   mouth so that when I slid down on the length of his cock, my mouth would feel   like a wet cunt. I felt his hand on the back of my head, pushing me to take it   in even deeper, then I felt his other hand on my head, moving me to suck him in   the rhythm that he liked, fucking my face for a few long, deep strokes and then   releasing me long enough that I could get some air. I love it when his cock is   so hard that it feels too big for my mouth and throat. It's the kind of   cocksucking that's every bit as pleasurable for me as it is for him, and it's in   the midst of that kind of cocksucking that I only need to tease my clit for a   few seconds before I cum. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted knows this. He can sense it. He knows when   I'm getting off on sucking his cock. He knows that some of my most intense   orgasms happen when I'm sucking his cock, playing with myself and then I cum   with his cock pushed deep inside my mouth. That's why, yesterday, he knew it was   only making me hornier when he took a fist full of my hair in one hand, grabbed   my chin with the other and force-fed me his cock -- as deep and as hard as he   wanted it. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted took his cock out of my mouth, stood me up and turned me   around. With the sash from my robe, he tied my hands behind my back. He took a   silky scarf from my drawer and gagged me with it -- tight enough that I couldn't   speak but not so tight that I'd feel panicky or nervous. He brought me over to   the arm chair in my bedroom and bent me over it so that my forehead was against   the pillow and my ass was in the air. Without a word, he used another scarf to   tie my legs together at the thighs, tightly enough that my legs couldn't be   spread. He stepped back and I could hear him stroking himself as he admired the   vulnerable position he had put me in. "You dirty fucking cunt," he said, still   stroking himself. "I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to do whatever the fuck I   want to that dirty cunt because it's &lt;em&gt;mine&lt;/em&gt;! I own it, whore. Understand?" &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nodded and tried to move my head enough so that I could enjoy the   sight of him stroking himself, but no matter what I did or how I moved, I   couldn't see him. Finally, I felt him next to me. He spread my ass cheeks as   much as he could -- which wasn't much, considering my thighs were bound so   tightly. "You need something in there," he said, and returned a moment later   with the dildo. He pushed it against my thighs, trying to find my pussy with the   head, trying to force it inside. I felt myself straining against it, wanting to   take it in -- but my thighs were bound so tightly that all he could manage was   to press the head of the dildo hard against my cunt. I tried to wriggle as much   as I could to loosen the scarf around my thighs but Ted stopped me with a sharp,   stinging slap on my ass. "Do. Not. Move!" he said. "Don't try to get free. If   you do, I'm walking out of here. No cock for you. I'll bring the dildo with me."   He took me by my hair and pulled my face off the chair. "Do you want to get   fucked?" he asked. I nodded. Ted laid my forehead back down against the chair:   "Then be quiet and work on making yourself nice and wet so this dick will slide   in you."&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted continued to press the dildo against my pussy. It was erotic   and frustrating. Or erotic because it ~was~ frustrating? I pressed myself   against the head and willed my pussy to open up, willed my thighs to soften so   that the dildo could work itself inside me, but I knew that Ted was right: the   only way the dildo would get inside me was if I was so soaking wet. I   concentrated on the sensations of a few minutes earlier -- of his cock in my   mouth, the idea of cumming hard with his cock in my mouth. I concentrated on the   helpless, sexy sensation of feeling helpless and horny and wanting to be fucked.   I concentrated on the feeling of Ted being in control and I relaxed into it. I   focused on relaxing my thighs. I focused on making my pussy &lt;strong&gt;wet&lt;/strong&gt;. Ted   continued to press the dildo against me and finally I felt the head yielding to   my wetness. Just the head. Then a little more. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted laughed, as he always   seems to do when I'm being a real slut. It's not a mocking laugh or a mean   laugh. It's more of a "Eureka!" laugh -- the type of thing you might find   yourself doing if you won a poker hand you were sure you'd lost. I can sense in   his laugh that I'm doing something he was sure I'd never do. Or maybe laughing   at his own power over me, which still surprises and pleases him. "Mmm,   motherfucking cunt!" he laughed. "That's it, whore. Get your cunt all wet. Make   some juices!" &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sound of Ted's voice has always been an aphrodisiac to   me, but especially when I'm feeling helpless and submissive and I want cock   inside me so badly that I'll do (just about) anything he asks of me. I just got   wetter and wetter, thinking of how much pleasure this was bringing Ted, and   finally -- despite the tightly-bound thighs -- I felt the dildo slip inside of   me. Ted slid it in as deep as it would go and ordered me to clench my pussy as   hard as I could to keep it in place. I heard him sit on the bed and stroke his   cock. "Damn! You look like such a fucking slut," he said. He stroked himself   some more and then came back to me, sliding the dildo in and out of me, fucking   me hard with it. He pulled it out and pressed it against my asshole: "You made   this thing so fucking wet, I bet it could slide inside your asshole without any   lube at all." To tease me, he pressed the dildo against my asshole and sure   enough, I could feel myself yielding to it. It was wet, yes, but not quite wet   enough for more than the very tip of the dildo's head to penetrate my hole. "How   does that feel, cunt?" he asked. "Does that feel good?" I whimpered out a yes as   best I could with my mouth gagged and he pressed it against my asshole even   harder. "Push up against it, cunt," he said. "Show me how badly your asshole   wants to be filled with cock." I pushed against the dildo but my asshole   wouldn't yield any more. It was just as well. The ~threat~ of anal sex is always   more arousing to me than actual ass play itself. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the tip of the   dildo still pressed against my asshole, Ted finally moved his cock to my pussy,   rubbing and teasing it. "You want a little at a time?" he asked, teasing me with   the head. "Or do you want me to just stick it inside you and fuck you as hard as   I can?" he asked, plunging his cock deep inside me. I was moaning and pleading   through the gag and Ted responded by pulling his cock out and pressing the dildo   harder against my asshole. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up!" he said. "This is ~my~ pussy   and I'll do whatever the fuck I want to it, whenever I want." He put the dildo   aside, spread my ass cheeks and pussy as wide as he could and then shoved his   cock inside me and fucked me with long, hard, painful strokes -- EXACTLY what I   wanted and was craving. He fucked me hard, his hands on my hips, his fingernails   pressing into my skin. He fucked my cunt like he was fucking my face: using his   hands to ram ME harder on his cock. I was so fucking ready to cum and Ted   noticed all of the signals. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DO IT," he demanded. "Do it, you fucking   cunt!"&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I let go and came. It doesn't happen often, but there are some   orgasms so powerful that I can FEEL my juices flooding around his cock and   dripping onto my thighs. It's the closest to squirting that I'll ever come, and   it feels great. Ted fucked me harder as I came, calling me a cunt and a whore,   until he pulled his cock out of me and came all over my back and ass cheeks. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took us both a minute or so to recuperate, and then he lovingly wiped   his cum off of me with tissues and finished off with a warm, wet washcloth. He   kissed my back, undid the scarves around my wrists and thighs and finally took   the makeshift gag from my mouth. As he always does after we play this way, he   laid me on the bed and rubbed my neck,, my back, my arms and legs -- all the   while asking me over and over again, "Are you SURE you're okay? No kinks   anywhere? Does your neck hurt?" I assured him that I felt fine but confided in   him that I didn't feel like going anywhere: "I don't want to get up. I just feel   like staying in bed now." Ted kissed me and chuckled: "Then don't GO anywhere,   babe. Just stay in bed. It's Saturday. You're allowed." So I did. I snuggled up   with my oversized pillow and fell into another half-sleep, barely noticing as   Ted got dressed and headed off to run his errands. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a LONG overdue   day for me. I really missed cumming hard. I missed being so horny. I missed not   having anything else on my mind but sex and cock, cock and sex. I think Ted   enjoyed it a lot, too -- not just for the obvious reasons, but because he ~has~   noticed my distraction and he ~has~ missed knowing that I have nothing on my   mind but his cock. Best of all, not only did I have several great orgasms, I   also got caught up on a LOT of sleep that I just honestly haven't gotten lately. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I've been asked a couple of questions from readers that I really   wanted to answer today but it's gotten late and writing about my morning with   Ted turned me on more than I thought it would. Remind me to answer the questions   another time. Right now, all I want to do is feel some cyberskin against me   ...&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Posted by &lt;A href="mailto:acumwhorediary@yahoo.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;U&gt;Suzi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;strong&gt;@&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;A onmouseover="window.status='permanant link'; return true" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true" href="http://www.hisnherstoys.com/"&gt;11:44:00   PM&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.hisandherstoys.com/"&gt;(0)   comments &lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;_____ _____&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;A name="112779298512046814"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9/26/2005&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I'm back. Sort of.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  As usual, I don't have   enough time to write about everything I would ~like~ to write about, but I set   aside one hour to try to get this blog up to speed so that, time permitting, I   can get back into swing of things.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I checked the date on my last post --   early June?? -- and I spent most of my spare time today trying to encapsulate   everything that's happened in the intervening weeks. This may be a little   rag-tag (I'm rusty, dammit!) so forgive the haphazardness of this   post.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  First, I want to thank ~EVERYONE~ who has emailed me since I last   blogged. Your emails of concern and caring meant the world to me and even though   I may not have replied, your demands for me to come back did not go unnoticed   :-) I want to thank you for your kindness and for hanging in there and going   over (and over and over, apparently ;-) the archives during my absence. I think   a popular misconception is that someone like me would get primarily emails   demanding cyber-sex or live encounters but the truth is, I get requests to post   more pictures but more than anything, I get very sweet emails from people who   feel they know me better than they actually do (which I understand and which is   fine), who express a concern for my well-being that even some people in my   ~real~ life wouldn't deign to express. That meant a lot in the past few   weeks.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Without going into too many details, this has been both a great   and a horrible summer. I don't think I've ever been as emotionally drained as   I've been in the past few weeks. I found out at the beginning of the summer that   someone whom I love with all of my heart had a psychological problem that I can   honestly and truly say I was unaware she had. In hindsight and with the benefit   of 20/20, of course I can see that there were significant warning signs but   still, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out about it.   In short: I got a phone call from a mutual friend that this dear friend of mine   was in the hospital after doing something incredibly self-destructive. When you   love someone as much as I love this person, and you hear something like that,   your world just ends. I heard people say that "time stood still" and I always   thought that was a load of bullshit, but -- time really ~did~ seem to stand   still. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The reason I don't want to get into the specifics of it is ~not~   because I'm afraid she will be "found out" but because hers is a very serious   and yet common disorder/problem (much to my surprise) and I don't want anyone   who Googles the subject to end up at A Cumwhore's Diary. If there's even the   most MINUTE chance that discussing it here would trivialize the problem, I don't   want to do it. If it was a drug or alcohol problem, I'd share in a heartbeat. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Suffice to say, it took me a very long time to come to terms with her   disorder and to cope with all of the emotions that came ~with~ that discovery:   Why didn't I do something? How come I didn't know? Why did I think she was   joking about this when she was really using humor as a way of ~telling~ me she   had a problem? How could she do this to herself? How could she do this to me and   everyone who loves her? And most importantly: How do I give support and love and   show patience to someone towards whom I'm harboring so much anger right now? I   only just VERY recently started to come to terms with it. I attend a support   group for people who live with or have family members or are close to others who   have this particular disorder. I did see a therapist for a brief while this   summer, more to learn about WHY my friend is doing this to herself than to vent   my frustration over not being able to help her or just make her STOP. I'm okay   now. The shock of it is over. I love her. I'm there for her. I'm not angry as   often. I'm not depressed as often. I don't find myself worrying about her as   much as I did in the beginning. I'm understanding her illness more and more and   it's not consuming my life any more.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  If I believed that Ted was my   soulmate ~before~ this started, I am now more convinced of it than ever. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  But where to begin with ~that~ story?&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Okay, I'll start here: Ted   flew out here right before this disaster with my friend started to unfold, and   unbeknownst to me, was here on business ~and~ to hook up with his former boss.   Apparently they had been talking back and forth about the possibility of Ted   moving back here and working for his former company again. Ted dropped hints   here and there ("What would you think if I moved back?" "What did you think of   that old boss of mine?") but I knew he was homesick and missing me and not   really enjoying his new job as much as he thought he would, so I didn't really   pay much attention. Sure enough, Ted was asked to come back only his role in the   company would be very different. Before, he traveled constantly to consult with   various companies and organizations; this time around, Ted would remain in the   city for three weeks of every month, working with local clientele, and have one   week a month at the company's headquarters in another city. I'm sure Ted pressed   for that kind of an arrangement. The non-stop traveling was one of the key   reasons he took the other job in the first place. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  But before Ted could   share the great news with me, my friend was in crisis. I was thrilled when Ted   gave me the news and told him that ~of course~ he could stay with me. Under   different circumstances, it would have been a fuckfest of a summer, but with so   much on my mind, I found it very hard to focus on Ted. It was in the middle of   ~not~ focusing on him that I realized just how perfectly suited we are for one   another. One thing I noticed above all else is how little space Ted took up,   even though he arrived with tons of suitcases and had just as many boxes shipped   to my house. One day I said to Ted, "You know what's really strange? I honestly   haven't noticed you here. And I mean that in a ~good~ way. There was never a box   in my way. Your clothes were never in my way." &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  It was so nice to be able   to come home at the end of the day, knowing he would either be there waiting for   me OR would be home shortly himself. It was nice to cry and not feel that I had   to put up a front. It was nice to be held and kissed and hugged and cuddled with   no expectation on his part of it leading to anything more. We did have more than   a few nights of great fucking, but it was his effortless emotional support that   meant the most to me and had the biggest impact. I just woke up one day and   thought, "That's it. This guy is perfect for me."&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Since then, Ted has   moved into his own apartment -- within walking distance from mine :-) As much as   we love one another and as well as we get along, we both want privacy. We either   had to move into a new apartment big enough for the two of us or get separate   places. Ted decided (rightly so) that I was in no emotional shape to undertake   packing and moving my things, so he found a cute little two-bedroom place in my   neighborhood and didn't tell me about it until we drove to the storage place and   started packing up a moving truck with his furniture. It was the perfect   decision to make. We're together most of the week, but if I work late or he   works late, we can unwind on our own. If one of us is in a fucking mood, we call   the other person and it takes about 5 minutes to get from door to door. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My hour is up, and I'm going to upload this. But for your patience,   here's (in my never-humble opinion) a KICK-ASS picture of my cum-soaked mouth,   taken just a few nights ago. It won't be the last picture I upload, so don't   harass me for more. Let me get back into the swing of things first, okay? And   then I promise there will be more :-)&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;IMG height="287" src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/18.jpg" width="300" border="2"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Until the next time ...&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Posted by &lt;A href="mailto:acumwhorediary@yahoo.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;U&gt;Suzi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;strong&gt;@&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;A onmouseover="window.status='permanant link'; return true" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true" href="http://www.MyRabbitVibrators.com/"&gt;10:48:00 PM&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/09/im-back.html"&gt;(0) comments &lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;strong&gt;_____ _____&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;A name="111815209427694691"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6/7/2005&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I can't believe how long it's been since I last   blogged :-/ &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Sadly, I'm not blogging today, either. I'm just stopping by   in a rare moment of quiet to let you all know that there are just too many   things happening in my life right now -- both professionally and personally --   for me to update at this time. I'm in the middle of a personal crisis with   someone very, &lt;strong&gt;very&lt;/strong&gt; dear to me while also trying to remember what on earth   made me think my career was more important than the people I love. Since I've   been determined, from day one, to make this a sex blog and not discuss my   personal life, that doesn't leave me many options right now. I either have to   blog about sex (which I've been having, but which seems secondary right now) or   I'd have to get into my personal life (which I absolutely refuse to do). &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    So instead, I'm going to ask for your patience. One of these days, I'll   be back to update you all on my life. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Posted by &lt;A href="mailto:acumwhorediary@yahoo.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;U&gt;Suzi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;strong&gt;@&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;A onmouseover="window.status='permanant link'; return true" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true" href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/06/i-cant-believe-how-long-its-been-since.html"&gt;7:45:00   AM&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/06/i-cant-believe-how-long-its-been-since.html"&gt;(0)   comments &lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;strong&gt;_____ _____&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;A name="111637191341712743"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5/17/2005&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I have no time to blog, but I ~do~ have time to   upload some pictures that should answer the question, "How was your week with   Ted?"&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Scroll down and enjoy! More to come   later!&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      ~&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures2/14.jpg" border="2"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures2/15.jpg" border="2"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures2/16.jpg" border="2"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures2/20.jpg" border="2"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures2/21.jpg" border="2"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures2/22.jpg" border="2"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Posted by &lt;A href="mailto:acumwhorediary@yahoo.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;U&gt;Suzi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;strong&gt;@&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;A onmouseover="window.status='permanant link'; return true" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true" href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/05/i-have-no-time-to-blog-but-i-do-have.html"&gt;7:14:00   PM&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/05/i-have-no-time-to-blog-but-i-do-have.html"&gt;(0)   comments &lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;strong&gt;_____ _____&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;A name="111473564628429034"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4/28/2005&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Ten days since I last blogged? I should be   ashamed of myself! :-/&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        When I started updating this blog a few months   ago, it was during a period where I swore I would get my life prioritized -- or   maybe compartmentalized would be a better word for it. I was going to be at the   gym from this time to this time, at work from this time to that time, etc -- and   no matter what, I would blog faithfully on every Monday and Thursday evening to   distract myself from the stresses of the week. Needless to say, that sounded   great in theory but didn't actually work out the way I'd intended. I'm partly   just too tired these days to write anything, and since I don't blog about my job   except in generalities, there was nothing much for me to say. To make a long   story short (and generic), there were some changes made at work in the past week   that nobody foresaw, including Boss -- who was left quite suddenly with the   unenviable task of having to replace two people at work who, it turns out, were   "working for the enemy" and had steered a couple of clients to a competitor.   Bad, bad, bad. As a result, not only am I still doing what I am paid to do, I'm   doing a lot of stopgapping at work that's keeping me at the office later than I   care to be. I'm hardly a martyr -- I ~am~ being paid extremely well for the   overtime -- but I'm starting to feel the effects of the stress and tension. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        When I got home on Friday night, I literally unplugged every phone from   the wall in my apartment, crawled into bed without even taking my make-up off   and slept until past noon on Saturday. I didn't check my emails or re-plug the   phone until Sunday night, at which point I was greeted with several frantic   messages from Ted ("Are you DEAD?") and a few reminders from people at work   about things that needed to be done ASAP on Monday morning. I spent Saturday in   bed. I rented some DVDs and paid a cab to pick them up for me and drop them off   at my apartment. I ordered in. I was still so brutally tired on Sunday night   that I couldn't even ~fathom~ having to wake up and go to work on Monday -- and   yet I did. Went in an hour early and didn't get home until past midnight that   night. Next morning: same thing. I didn't even get to see rock poseur   Constantine get booted off of American Idol -- a moment I'd been waiting for   with rapt anticipation :-( Alert Suzi would have set the DVR to record this, of   course, but Half-Dead Suzi can't even seem to work a microwave any   more.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        But enough whining.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I wish I had a lot of tantalizing   stories to share with you, but I have nothing sexy to report. Ted is flying in   tomorrow night and staying until next Sunday: he's actually in the city on   business and has a lush hotel room at his disposal, all paid for by his company.   He's urging me to pack up a bag and go treat myself to a week in the lap of   luxury with him while I'm urging him to come stay with me and play house for   that week. Either way, I'm really looking forward to being with him again and   cannot ~wait~ for him to arrive! We're still logging far too many hours on the   phone and far too little in bed :-( I hear his voice on the phone and get so wet   at the sound of it, and yet I find myself yawning into the phone and even   drifting off into sleep while we're talking. I'm sick of conversations that   start with him saying, "If I was there now, I would .." and end with, "... but   I'm not." Next week is going to be great. Even if I'm too tired for sex, it will   be wonderful to fall asleep in his arms or fall asleep while he's rubbing my   back and shoulders. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I've been working late hours with a younger male   employee at the office who is ~not~ my type, to whom I'm only superficially   attracted and who lacks the maturity and experience that I like in a man. And   yet, late at night, in the office, I'll catch a glimpse of him when it's gotten   really late and decorum has gone out the window. He'll already have his tie and   blazer off and his sleeves will be rolled up to his elbows, his hair will be a   little messy, his eyes will be a bleary and unfocused -- and I'll find myself   wondering just how severely reprimanded I would be if I laid down on a desk with   my legs spread, had him fuck me and then roll over and fall asleep with my head   in my Outgoing tray. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        But I wouldn't want to add to Boss' stress right   now.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Still, a good, hard fuck is exactly what I'm in the mood for now.   I'm just glad Ted will be here before I can get myself into any kind of   trouble.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Patience, people! I'll be back to blogging more regularly at   some point ... ;-)&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          Posted by &lt;A href="mailto:acumwhorediary@yahoo.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;U&gt;Suzi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;strong&gt;@&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;A onmouseover="window.status='permanant link'; return true" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true" href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/04/ten-days-since-i-last-blogged-i-should.html"&gt;8:42:00   PM&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/04/ten-days-since-i-last-blogged-i-should.html"&gt;(0)   comments &lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;strong&gt;_____ _____&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;A name="111387737964834945"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4/18/2005&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I wish I had more energy to blog these days, but   I'm back to putting in absurdly long hours at work. By the time I get home and   eat, I just want to check my email (and I promise you all, I ~will~ reply one   day!), call Ted and then call it a night. I'm being paid time and a half, which   you would think would ease the burden of being away from the comforts of home so   much -- but alas, it doesn't :-/ I intended to recuperate over the weekend but   instead found myself throwing all the windows open, cranking up the stereo and   cleaning out all of my closets. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I called Ted last night and complained   about being horny and yet too tired to masturbate and he told me to sit   comfortably and let him guide me through it. I snapped at him, "No, you don't   get it: &lt;em&gt;I'm too tired!&lt;/em&gt;" but I laid down on my bed and removed my panties,   per his request, and cupped my pussy in my hand, almost ~willing~ it to react   despite my exhaustion. I didn't cum, but Ted did manage to relax me completely.   "If I was there, I'd lick you to sleep," he chuckled. I replied with a yawn and   told him not to take anything personally. "I'm just tired," I repeated. "Yeah, I   heard that," he said with a laugh. I hung up the phone and drifted into a deep   sleep and woke up this morning with a deep, deep desire to smash my alarm clock   into a million pieces. I'm being paid well for my time but I told Boss today   that I'd forfeit the goddamned overtime pay if I could get all those hours paid   to me in vacation time.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;em&gt;Hint, hint!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          The best I can do for   you tonight is pass along some pictures that Ted passed along, again taken from   the collection of pictures and video clips we accumulated while he was here.   First, two pictures of me sucking his cock. The second one is actually my   favorite, because I can see Ted's hand on his cock, holding it straight and I   can hear him telling me to take it in my throat until my lips touched his hand.   I wish I could have shared the pictures of me taking his cock in progressively   deeper into my mouth until it disappeared but the closer my lips got to his   balls, the more my face and eyes were visible. I'll have to work on that   ;-)&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/cwd7.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/cwd5.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          And finally, a too-small shot of me with drops of cum on my   tits. As you can tell by the t-shirt I'm wearing, it was a spontaneous blow job   for which I wasn't properly (un)dressed ;-)&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/cwd6.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          Ted said   that he's attempting to get some video grabs where my face isn't visible but   when he's holding the video camera, the thing he wants (and loves) most is to   shoot me while I'm looking into the camera. Maybe there are a few random seconds   where my eyes aren't visible. I'm sure he's more than happy to watch the clips   over and over again in a quest to find those eye-less bits of video.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          Did   I mention that I'm tired? &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I thought so ...&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Posted by &lt;A href="mailto:acumwhorediary@yahoo.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;U&gt;Suzi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;strong&gt;@&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;A onmouseover="window.status='permanant link'; return true" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true" href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/04/i-wish-i-had-more-energy-to-blog-these.html"&gt;9:39:00   PM&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/2005/04/i-wish-i-had-more-energy-to-blog-these.html"&gt;(0)   comments &lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;strong&gt;_____ _____&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;A name="111336191032049974"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4/12/2005&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            (Pssst, cumshot pics will follow the text so if   you're impatient, you may want to scroll ahead ;-)&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Ted and I had a long   talk last night and I'm finding myself getting my hopes up over something that   may turn into nothing. I had initially called Ted in a fit of unbridled   excitement over something that happened at work that day and my babbling was   greeted with a less-than-enthusiastic response. When I asked him what was wrong,   he said, "You just like your job way more than I like mine, and I miss that."   I've known for a while that Ted doesn't enjoy his job much. He often said that   he "sacrificed enjoyment for money." In other words, he traded in a job that was   physically demanding but right up his alley for a job that requires far less of   him but pays him an obscene amount of money. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            We talked and talked and   the more we talked, the more often Ted made noises about wanting to get his old   job back (which would be easy; they'd KILL to have him back) and moving back   here. My heart skipped a few beats and I must have stayed quiet longer than I   meant to because Ted finally said, "Suz?" in that "Are you still there?" voice.   I'm always afraid to express any kind of opinion in those situations. If I was   spontaneous, I'd blurt out how much I'd love for him to quit his job and move   back here. Then I start thinking about how responsible I'd feel if he came back   and decided he didn't like it here after all. Or if things didn't ultimately   work out between us. So I tend to just keep quiet and wait. This isn't the first   time he's mentioned it and he hasn't quit his job yet, so a part of me refuses   to believe it will ever happen.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            We talked about this blog, too. I don't   know how often Ted reads it. If he reads it regularly, I sure can't tell from   our conversations. Sometimes he'll be genuinely surprised if I make a comment   about the blog; at other times, he'll say, "Yeah, I read that one" and offer a   comment or two about it.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Ted doesn't have any problem with me sharing   pictures of myself because &lt;em&gt;obviously&lt;/em&gt; they're edited to the point where   I'm not recognizable. Or at least not recognizable ~enough~ that if someone   wandered in here, they'd immediately know it was me. If he has issues with the   blog, it's that he feels I'm doing something for free that I should be getting   paid for. That's where I differ. There's a glut of sex blogs, a glut of free   porn sites, gateway sites, etc. I'm barely able to keep up with blogging on a   regular basis, and I have zero interest in turning this blog into an at-best &lt;em&gt;marginally&lt;/em&gt; profitable website. I don't want ads on this blog. I don't   want any of that stuff. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            I like the fact that I have a loyal audience,   many of whom have been with me since I first began posting. I appeal to men who   love cocksucking stories and I'm fine with that. To appeal to a wider audience,   I'd have to start making stuff up to satisfy a wider audience -- and I like the   cocksucking fetishists who cum come in here every day to see   what I've been up to. I like the occasional links that drive tons of visitors to   my blog (and I'm thrilled that so many of those new visitors bookmark me and   come back again and again). I have the money to afford my own web-hosting (&lt;A href="http://adulttoys.hisnherstoys.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Midphase&lt;/A&gt; rules,   btw) and I don't feel any pressure to blog on a daily basis. If I turn try to   turn this blog into a &lt;em&gt;business&lt;/em&gt;, all the fun will be drained out of it.   The whole reason for doing this blog -- for my own personal satisfaction, more   than anything else -- would change. I don't want A Cumwhore's Diary to become   yet another thing in my life that I feel pressure to perfect. I try to write in   a sexy and interesting manner about what happens in my life, but if it fails to   get you off, no harm done, right? You didn't ~pay~ to come here, right?   ;-)&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            I like that freedom and I want to keep that freedom. &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Ted   still doesn't get why I want to keep this all very loose and easy, but not long   after we hung up, he sent me an email with the following screen grabs from the   video clip we shot when he was here, with a message saying that he was sure my   readers would enjoy them. So without further delay -- and without costing you a   fucking dime :-p -- here are some cumshot pictures of yours truly.   Enjoy!&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/01.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/02.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/03.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;IMG src="http://www.acumwhorediary.com/pictures/04.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Have a great night, all! :-)&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24429320-114290271631601945?l=rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/feeds/114290271631601945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24429320&amp;postID=114290271631601945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24429320/posts/default/114290271631601945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24429320/posts/default/114290271631601945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabbit-vibe.blogspot.com/2006/03/yesterday-was-first-time-in-ages-that.html' title=''/><author><name>HisnHersToys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12443931175027780825</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
