The morning after my houseparty-slash-orgy I got a date request from someone whom I’ve been emailing with forever but never actually met. BTW, I literally woke up the day after with a grin on my face. I was hung over as hell, looked like shit, but I giggled the whole way to get coffee at my favorite cafe. Moments like this are rare in life, aren’t they? When you’re recollecting memories from the night before and such happiness gushes forth from your insides that you can’t help but smile. Even at complete strangers. My very first orgy — and I had so much fun!

So when the “date” wanted me to fuck him I said sure! Come on over! You came to the right place cause I wanted to fuck the cute hapa boy so bad from the night before but he wouldn’t let me. Ooh baby you’re sooo going to get your money’s worth!!!

I dragged my ass to the gym and sweated off all the alcohol so my face would be less puffy. I did the smoky, sultry, seductress eye makeup. My hair was super sex-kittenish. And I was so horny they should bottle my pheromones. Fucking Cassandra puts on a fucking show. NO LIE.

I opened the door and in walks a very short Wilford Brimley.  If you don’t know who he is please click on the link so you know who I’m talking about. 

Reality fucking bites you in the ass, doesn’t it?

I was Cinderella at the ball last night. Going from hot man to hot man. Eating ass. Getting my candy sucked. Shooting a big load for non-quitters. And I woke up feeling so lucky that I get PAID to have such a good life. I love being a hooker! I’m about to have sex and then have all my party expenses from the night before completely taken care of!

Wilford. Brimley.

Was very nice. We walked down the hallway to my room. He walked in front of me. He was wearing light, faded jeans. I kept staring at them. When you are old and you are not in shape but rather disfigured what you really want to do with your wardrobe is to minimize your negatives.  Don’t wear light colored jeans because that’s where the eyes go.  You’ll draw attention to your disproportionate waist and shriveled, saggy ass.  Black, on the other hand, is a very good color.  Couple that with a navy blazer.

And then cover it all with a burka.

(I kid, I kid!)

All kidding aside, I didn’t want to see what was underneath his light colored jeans. Oh god I did not want to see him naked. I’m not a bad person. But I’m a real person. Maybe if I was destitute and homeless and a drug-addict I could fuck him. And if you are a destitute, homeless, drug-addicted prostitute I can now understand why you’d hate this job.

I *Feel* you.

HELL! If he only wanted to blow me I would let him.

But fucking someone up the ass is a whole different ballgame completely. If you’re not the least bit turned on you cannot do it. You don’t see the ass as anything remotely sexual.

In fact, all you think about is its function in life.

The thought that kept going through my mind was, “Mister Wilford Brimley, shouldn’t you be trying to get more kids to eat Quaker’s oatmeal?”

He touched my shoulders all shy and excited. He tried to hand me the money. I told him to hang on to it. He must have thought I was going to collect it afterwards. There was still such anticipation in the air. He started to say, “wow you look fucking amazing.”

And I had to tell him, Hey I’m sorry I don’t think I can do this. It was so unpleasant. He had to drive all the way back to Hayward. I felt bad. Sometimes, but only sometimes, I don’t think I’m cut out for this shit.

 Print This Post

Tags: followup