Giving Chase

by Julie Robinson

The reality is that I get tired of lying to guys.  It is also entirely possible that it can be blamed on the fact that I have become lazy, lethargic, and (quite frankly) impatient.  The whole idea of waiting around for men to come to me—being coy, conniving, a challenge—has flown out the door to be replaced by a grown woman with a teenage boy’s libido.        

Traces of elusiveness remain firmly in place for men I don’t have any interest in pursuing, of course.  When I received a text from Alejandro yesterday asking, “What are you wearing right now?” I winced with displeasure and ignored it entirely.  When Brian dropped me off at my apartment Tuesday night after an evening devoid of pleasure and chock full of his whining, I smiled sweetly, offered my thanks, and skedaddled without any attempt at leaning back toward his outstretched, puckered lips. 

It’s easy when they are like that.

Winners Can Be Choosers

by Julie Robinson*

Just last month I won a goodies bag chock full of sex toys.  A beautiful, pink vibrator bigger than most cocks I’ve seen, anyway.  Slimy lube.  Silky panties.  Breath mints.  Other people might say, “I can’t believe my luck!” 

I just say, “Yeah, I win shit.” 

Big shit.  I’ve won a weekend in San Francisco, a Mediterranean cruise, a week to the South of France, and a weekend in Omaha, Nebraska (don’t ask). 

The other night I was hanging out with Mathias, and we had a chance to win a raffle for a free room at a seedy motel in a suburb of Denver.  I didn’t win that night . . .  but I didn’t worry about it too much, and the next time I showed up at that very same seedy motel--I won! 

           ___________________________

            "There are a few ways I can

                choose to really "win"."

            ___________________________

So, now I have a free night stay in a Colfax motel with a “clothing optional” indoor pool and Jacuzzi, two bedrooms, mirrors everywhere, porn above the fireplace, and a funny looking contraption in a side room that is supposed to send women over the moon; I can’t wait to figure out how I want this to all play out when I cash in my prize.

Rules of Engagement

by Julie Robinson

Of course we just had to be naked when he confessed, “I’ve been in love twice where it completely devastated me.”

Pulling myself that much closer to his rock hard body, “That doesn’t sound so bad, you know.”

The shock on his face is undeniable.  Peering down at me incredulously Mathias says, “I even had to go on anti-depressants.  It was terrible.  I thought I was going to die.”

I try to murmur something sympathetic because I really want to get laid, but this conversation is beginning to get annoying. 

_________________________________

"Who are these women who

make men fall hopelessly

in love with them? 

How do I become one of them?"

_________________________________

“The first time was when I cheated on my wife.  The passion was so amazing there was no going back, and I ended up getting a divorce.  I quickly learned my lesson, though, when the woman I was in love with moved on almost immediately.  The second time was here in Colorado.  We broke up 627 days ago, but I’m completely over her now.”

Writing Well / Getting Dates

by Julie Robinson

A former lover who became infamous for being a Matchstick Man (*see below) dubiously wrote about “holding hands in the movies” and “long walks in the rain” in his online profile even though he was about as romantic as a rotting log.  I know this not because I met him online (we got set-up through It’s Just Lunch), but because he would brag about his exploits at parties.

What readers of his profile did not know is that Garrison was well aware of the personae he was portraying and that telling the truth about himself would not lead to the kind of whirlwind “relationships” he was looking for.  This man wrote well and got dates.