Like Momma always said, when life hands you a dirty pair of underwear…don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
So, yeah, I made from New Mexico to D.C., to Virginia…Shit, I am so happy with myself.
Thing is…I have a problem.
Well, I am my problem, we all know that. But with this volunteering thing, being in closed in quarters, housing big bodies with small ambitions, has me just a wee bit concerned.
I masturbate at least three or four times a day. Got to the point, I’d have to excuse myself at work every hour on the hour. Deal with situation, wipe myself down and clean up the mess.
Unfortunately, I turn myself on so I am the only one who can turn ‘myself’ off. My anger, my pride, my ignorance, my abandonment issues, I turned them all into a game. It beats my old game of self mutilation!
Bad masturbation is better than none at all; at least in Ambien Grace’s world.
To maintain the lifestyle I’ve grown accustomed to I have to hide beneath the covers late at night. After all the We Be Dweebs are napping from a hard day of putting boxes together for some charity or another. And, in order for me to achieve full orgasm, as many of the victims from my romantic crime sprees will tell you, I need at least two hours.
That is very hard when Mercedes, Jennifer, Brittany and the ‘gals’ from Blue Troop for Blue Big Girls, are all within a hot and harried sexual arm’s length away.
I suppose I could give it a whirl in the communal bathroom. Tell everyone I had a bad fifth round of dinner down at the mess hall.
I kind of want to keep the communal shower thing off limits for now. I like to keep that as a DH. Designated Hitter when my own filthy thoughts aren’t enough to get my by or off!
Maybe I’ll just pop a pill. Roll my big ass over and think about something that turns me off…
I know, I’ll imagine myself as a grown up!
