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Spreading Santorum: GUYS THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT

Spreading Santorum: GUYS THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: Santorum comes from behind in Alabama three-way . That is all.

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Cruel Intentions, Salsa edition

Guten Tag Kinder!

Wie gehts? My grindr exploits have been getting quite a reaction. I was ready to walk the straight and narrow, but for you loyal reader, I will persevere. Wading through the lewd and lascivious cesspool that is known as Grindr to deliver to you more grim cautionary tales. Today's blog however deals with a more degrading, humiliating, dehumanizing experience than the most most vile BDSM, role-playing, exploitive p'n'p scene you would ever find on Grindr. Yes dear reader, I will finally break the silence about my dabbling in the ultimate taboo.... same-sex couples Salsa.

The seed was planted over a year ago. Im my quest to milk life for all it's worth on a budget, I found a free same-sex couples dance class. I made plans to go with a friend who is even crazier than me (more on him later). We had a bit of a falling out so that idea got pushed to the back burner. Cut to a couple of weeks ago when my friend Linda (a man who I also refer to as my daughter sometimes) and I were brain-storming for activities for her to write about on her blog. I scrolled through my bookmarks and there it was . We went to the website to see if they still offered it. They did indeed and the next class was only a little more than a week away. We marked our calendars and made it a date. Apparently neither one of us ever look at our calendars because a few days ago Linda called asking for suggestions for an activity that night.

"I don't know. that dance class?"

Half joking and not really having any idea when it was happening. She checked and it was that night. I have to say I was feeling especially blech that day. My SAD was acting up and even though I had had about 8 hours of sleep I told Linda I needed a nap. So hours later Linda comes to collect me. I put on a pot of coffee and try my best to shake the grumpy ole curmudgeon schtick. It's not the look for gay salsa!

After chugging way too much coffee and getting an optimistic pep talk from Linda(?), we head to the Stepping Out Studio. Upon arrival we're asked to sign in and wait over by what I can only describe as a cheap Moroccan theme snack bar. What I had imagined to be overrun with prissy, goody-two-shoes queens that lived in HK, was actually filled with a disproportionate amount of middle-aged Asian ladies. I whisper to Linda out of the corner of my mouth, "They're everywhere".

Linda and I watch a class through the glass while waiting to be collected. It's all middle-aged Asian straight couples. That class clears out and people start to file in the room. A drunk Clark Kent look-alike, a little person in cha-cha man heels, a waspy lez, and ... you guessed it, a gaggle of Asian ladies. At first they're just sort of milling about but as the time for our class approaches they're practicing steps, swirling around, basically putting on their game faces. I tell Linda, "That can't be our class. They know what they're doing." Five minutes after our class was supposed to start, the receptionist walks over and says, "Zat eez your class, I do not know why he deedn't gate you." I shoot Linda an "OH HELL NO!" look and she bravely feigns oblivion to it and grabs my hand to lead my into the room.

I had already resolved to fade into the background. We make a beeline for the furthermost corner from the instructor, a sassy little gay latin with a sadistic streak I would soon discover. We had made it halfway to the back before he stops the class, looking mildly annoyed (which is nervy because it's his fault we weren't in there before it started) to call us out.

"Oh we have some BEGINNER beginners! Come up next to me so you can watch the steps!"

I'm giving Linda the "I'm about to bolt" look and she's acting as a human blockade to the door, herding me front and center. Somehow I'm right next to Rico Suave and Linda lands behind me. I am far from a shrinking violet but when the situation is out of my control I freak out. I can feel my face getting hot. My stomach is churning and I feel a disconnect with my body.

"Ok! Here we go. From the top. One, two, three... five, six, seven...

"No no no! It's one *TWO* three.. 5,6,7"

What the hell! It's exactly like when Lisa is taking tap lessons on the Simpsons, just replace "tappa tappa tappa" with "one two three". After a lightening round of the basic steps, he says, "Partner up"

Phew! this is what I came for, to be silly and dance with Linda. Us muddling through this together is finally going to take the pressure off of me. I turn to Linda, too drained to even give her any more scowls. She leads. Music starts. And from the top...

"One, two, three... Five, Sss...NO NO NO. You had it before so I know you know how to do it!"

I'm getting berated in front of the whole class. It took me so off guard. I wanted to just disappear so badly!

"Come here!" he says. Leaving Linda sans partner I walk to him and he grabs me. I want to punch him. To be embarrassingly honest I could almost feel tears welling up. He guides me through the steps and turns into Mr. Nice Guy.

"That's it. You're doing great. You're doing extremely well for someone's first time. Ok stop looking at your feet. Look at me."

EW! It was so creepy. Like the abusive spouse that brings flowers saying, "I don't want to hurt you but you drive me to it sweetie." the whole experience was clouded with this humiliation that manifested itself through heat and sweat on my body which caused more humiliation and the spiral kept going until I was just a big raw vibrating nerve. I tried to play it cool but it was traumatizing. So just to really drive it home, we had to switch partners until I had danced with everyone there.

I'm still recovering...

I Think I'm Just Trying to Glamorize the Loss of my Tan

Just Cause

Grindr Part Duex

Alright family members, skip this blog! That means you, Mom. here goes another installment of salacious grindr accounts.

So yesterday morning I stir from my slumber, reach for my iPhone, and turn on grindr. I lay back down with my phone next to my ear waiting for it to load. With sleepy anticipation I waited for the reassuring "BA-LA-LEMP" tone that means I have a message. I was not disappointed. Eyes half closed and mouth half smiling, I yawn /streched and savored the moment before finding out who my potential suitor was. Lazily I prop myself up on one elbow and check the message.

"I need you to open up my pussy again."

Well that certainly got my attention. It was from a person with only a zip code for a screen name and no pic. I had no idea who it was but the "again" implied we had met. Well more than met, apparently I had opened his pussy before. After I went to the toilet to spit out the vomit that was about to overflow out of my mouth. I replied, "u don't have a pic. Who r u?" to which he replied "im M. u came over and played with me and P" Oh! yeah yeah yeah, now I knew who he was and I'll get back to how we met the first time later.

He went on to ask if I would slide my manhood "into his cunt". Oh Lawd! No need for ipecac this morning. After emptying all the bile in my stomach, plus a few dry heaves for good measure. I responded, "Sure come over." I almost stipulated, no more reference to female anatomy but I thought, "how much more is he really likely to say it when we get started?".

the answer to that was MUCH more than I could've ever imagined.

So M arrives looking very professional. From the get go he starts with the dirty talk which I find to be comical, annoying, or some combination of the two, 99% of the time. It's all done in this fake hoarse whispery voice that imagine is what Demi Moore would sound like in a library. More women's anatomy is mentioned usually following verbs like 'wreck', 'abuse', 'pound' and the ole standby 'open'. I'm doing the "la la la I can't hear you" song in my head. We get inside my apartment. What you think would happen, happens. I have to keep some mystery! haha. So this guy has the worst ADD, which I already knew from out first encounter. he's wanting to take pics, role-play, I don't even know what else. he was still using that raspy whisper that I couldn't hear if I wanted to. Then he broke from that voice and asked in a normal, enunciated voice...

"What's your address?"

Without thinking, I gave it to him. I mean he already had it but I wasn't realizing why he wanted it again. Apparently in the time I was tuning out his mumbling and we were taking dirty pics with his iPhone and sending them to his other fuck buddies, he had also invited one over.

"he's in a cab. can you let him in in about 5 minutes?"

The angel on my shoulder said, "Tell him to call him and tell him not to come over!"

The devil reached over and stabbed the angel and said, "Let's just see how this plays out."

I go to let the guy in. he seems to have the whispery dirty talk affliction too. at this point I'm not even attempting to conceal my eye-rolling and heavy exhales. He gets inside and I think what I saw when he was naked sums up exactly what this guy is all about.

TRIBAL TRAMP STAMP.

Do you even need to know more?

The two of them are going at it and their 'pillow talk' sounds more like a pillowcase full of snakes. I'm happy to lay back and let them just use chez Sparkle Magick as a sleazy, rent by the hour, no-tell motel. No such luck, I get roped in. Mercifully they both are already late for work so it gets wrapped up quickly. That encounter fizzles out which is why I'm leaving you in wacky nonlinear timeline sort of way by telling of our first meeting, last. I'm going to be lazy and cut and paste it from an email with a few modifications.

I chat up this guy on grindr. he says he's "playing" with a friend. well you know the only response to that is "need a third". so I jot down the address and head over. I don't even know either guys name but I know what they look like naked from an email he sent (which is smoking hot btw). i get to the 2 story penthouse and a clearly high homo in his tighty whities answers the door. he looks like the pic on grindr but zombified. he leads me downstairs to his lair were I meet guy 2. I hadn't seen a face pic of this one but he was beautiful. very pale blue-green eyes with longish dark hair. he looked kinda like a prettier younger Vincent Gallo.

we all get naked and I'm ready to throw down. guy one says "hold on". "yeah" I think, "get the lube and condoms now before it breaks up the flow", or "get a towel so we don't mess up you beautiful apt." but alas he was not fetching said items but instead busted out the glass pipe full of meth. this gentle reader is where things got really dark.

I'll spare you the details but it was offered to me and i refused. I have to admit I pulled all my resolve and will power up from deep within to turn it down. it looked SOOOO good! even with seeing them tweaked out, the smell, the sound, I wanted it bad. sick huh?

so what i can say is that there was porn playing on a big screen, porn on the computer along with windows of hook up sites open, cameras, toys, still on grindr. tweakers need lots of things going at once. they both would stop occasionally and we'd have to sit in silence while they called their bfs and tried to act like they weren't high and having group sex. well eventually I realized this party was going all night, maybe even all tomorrow night, or even just blur into next weekend that's what that world is like. so I left. well there's a gross story about that. I'm not sure how delicate your sensibilities are.

anyway I get home and I'm thinking, "how does a tweaker live in that luxury apt. I wish I had tried to find out his name so I could google him". then I look at my computer. the email he sent has his name. I google him and here's the kicker...drumroll.... he's a children's book author and creative director at a major children's academic publishing house, formerly holding a very prestigious position at a famous children's network! haha. your children are being taught by p'n'p whores! (ed. note, I list the names in the email. it's a kiki!)

when I got home I immediately rinsed with listerine! i wanted to erase any trace of them. as I'm standing naked at the bathroom sink swishing and gargling. I look down and think "well it couldn't hurt" then I stand over the toilet and douse my cock and balls with listerine. AAAAH! the antiseptic tingle was a cleansing redemption. hmm the tingle is getting stronger. PHEW! that *IS* bracing.... FUCK!![hop/dance around the bathroom] that burn lasted at least an hour. I wonder if it did anything? either way it felt like a purifying act of contrition.

Okay I intended to write about my same-sex couples salsa dancing lesson but it's too soon. The humiliation is just too raw. haha. Check out Linda James' blog, New Every Day to read about it. I feel like she took a few liberties but I'll be giving my side soon enough, so check it out.

~A