Well, it did.  And you just know I’m going to tell you all about it, don’t you?  Which means it’s time to tell you about Jewboy.  Don’t get all politically correct on me, because he calls me the Little Shiksa.  A few of you know about him, but most don’t.  So let’s get to it, because he is part of this Valentine Story.

JewBoy is kinda-sorta my signicant other — just not too significant.  It’s my fault, not his.  He’s cute as a button, kinda geeky (which always gets me hot … so much fun to corrupt a nerd), sweet-natured and he would love to take our "relationship" to the next level.  I’m just not into heavy duty togetherness and all the work that goes into putting yourself on the line like that.  So we date here and there and I keep him at arms length … where he’s easy to handle.  And where I can live out in real life my FemDom Tease and Denial games. 

Hey, it works for me.  He’s handy candy, if you know what I mean.  And if you don’t?  Well, don’t expect me to go into a deep explanation.  But the weird thing about me and guys  — anybody I date — is that while I refuse to get really serious with anyone, at the same time,  I really do believe in love … romance, hearts & flowers, Valentine’s Day, MARRIAGE AND BABIES, kisses, hand-holding.  I mean, at least the idea of Happily Ever After seduces me.  But only for a while.  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s boredom, maybe I’m just a fickle bitch, or maybe the guys with whom I get involved turn out to be not so very much Prince Charmings.  Thus, numerous broken engagements at my relatively young age.

And I’ve explained this to JewBoy.  Although he rarely sees me and I often don’t take his calls, he buys the entire package that I am — lopsided ribbon and all.   I’m the first to admit my Girl-Boy games are quite selfish and that giving (in relationships) isn’t currently something I can do well.  But this is real life and it’s all I’ve got, at least for now.  So if a guy is interested he’s either got to take what I’m dishing out or get really sick of the menu and tell me to fuck off.  Interestingly enough — and much more than you would guess — the guy takes it.

So JewBoy wanted to do the Valentine thing.  He sent me flowers (sneaking in a couple of roses when he knows I prefer carnations, but that was forgivable enough), the accompanying card  tip-toeing around the L Word.  Because he knows better and because if he had been overly mushy I probably wouldn’t have taken his calls for another three or four weeks.  And he was hoping for a romantic Valentine dinner.  Which does appeal to my romantic side and I really am not heartless.  So I thought about it, I really did.

BUT … what I really really really wanted to do for Valentine’s day was Phone Sex.   Phone Sex with you and you and you and you.  FemDom Phone sex preferably, but a healthy dollop of perverse and kinky Phone Sex Chat would have been totally acceptable and most certainly a very good thing.  I do, after all, have a wicked imagination and take immense pleasure in weaving dirty stories about dirty boys doing dirty things.  I had plans to run some sort of Valentine Special and just make it a fun day with my callers.  So I politely and delicately (I really am fond of him and never ever want to hurt him) declined JewBoy’s date request, promising we would do the dinner thing soon after the big day.

UNFORTUNATELY …  Can you believe it?  I got sick with what I think was the flu.  I was miserable enough for it to be the flu.  So I went to my doctor on Monday, only by then I was already starting to get better.  No good drugs, but lots of blood tests since this is my second round of illness this year and she wanted to make sure that nothing more sinister is going on.  I am pretty much fine now, so the the visit was a waste of time and money.  But like I said, not even any good drugs from the visit. 

So guys (and JewBoy where ever you are):  Sorry about that.  I hated that I was sick.  I hated drinking the Thera-Flu.  I hated the fever and chills taking alternate and seemingly ceaseless swipes at me.  I hated my disinterest in CNN or even a good movie.  I hated reading a book and having to reread each and every paragraph because I was just too damn sick to pay attention.  I hated disappointing JewBoy.  But, most of all, I hated not being able to throw one hell-of-a rip-roaring Phone Sex party for one and all.

So here’s the deal.  I’m almost totally better; in fact, I even worked today.  I will be working the rest of the week at least eight hour each day.  I’m NOT promising what hours as I have real life responsibilities I need to work around.  But you will get at least eight hours from me, so keep checking.

In the meantime, I’m working on a very special project for THE GOOD GUYS.  And you know who you are, so be watching.

xo, Angela

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Phone Sex Quote of the day from Mr./Ms. J who made my day when he/she said:  You’re what I would call a modern Phone Sex Operator.  You actually have ethics and stick to them. 

_______________________

Best Valentine Gift:  Thank you Mr. W for the licorice.  You know it’s my favorite and I can hardly stop eating it.  Yum Yum Yum!

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Second Best Valentine Gift:  Thank you, YouKnowWho, for the Feng Shoe book — the little high-heel book mark is just too cute.  And the card?  Soooo me.  KIssssss.

I’m Told I Make Good Coffee
by Jeremy Edwards

"Sorry!" I reddened.

Claudine turned and gave me the warmest of knowing smiles. "Lawrence–are you a little hard?" More than a little, I thought. She was dancing in place now, openly holding her crotch, but she was
grinning happily and showed no signs of moving along.

"I guess so." I returned her smile.

"Oh, you sexy boy. This is the kind of thing that can make a grown girl wet her pants," she laughed, with a suggestion in her voice that though it might be a bit of an inconvenience to wet her pants here and now, the scenario otherwise held an attraction for her. And where she was allowing herself to hover on the brink of wetting her pants, I was now on the verge of pollinating my jeans.

She darted into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. I began to turn away as she peeled her slacks and panties and backed onto the commode . . . but suddenly she called "It’s okay–you don’t have to leave."

The next thing I heard was an angelic sigh of release. As the hiss and roar of her pissing began, I stumbled in without further hesitation, secure in the knowledge that the bell above the front door of the shop would give me plenty of time to return to the counter to serve any hypothetical forenoon customers. Hypothetical and improbable, I noted cheerfully.

***

From our sweet Zen Friend, Jerotic, who also recently (and I am late with this … you’ll have some catching up to do) sent the following:

SPECIAL EVENT #1

Please join me at my blog next Tuesday, January 27, when I welcome brilliant writer Nikki Magennis, author of the mindblowing eroto-rockin’ adventure The New Rakes! Nikki will be telling us about her passionate relationship with rock ‘n’ roll and indulging us with exquisite excerpts … and it’s rumored there will even be an X-rated paper-doll floor show!

SPECIAL EVENT #2

So, yeah, I took this test.  Not that I put much store in this online silliness — but it passes the time, particularly when you are avoiding what you should be doing.  And I’ve been more or less in avoidance mode for a while now.

The Dante’s Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Take the Dante’s Inferno Hell Test

Okay, in my defense, the questions were very black and white … yes or no, true or false.  And I am just sooo not a black and white girl.  Then again, my results also include this bit of hell and brimstone warning:

You have come to a place mute of all light, where the wind bellows as the sea does in a tempest. This is the realm where the lustful spend eternity. Here, sinners are blown around endlessly by the unforgiving winds of unquenchable desire as punishment for their transgressions. The infernal hurricane that never rests hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine, whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them.  You have betrayed reason at the behest of your appetite for pleasure, and so here you are doomed to remain.

I actually kinda-sorta see the semi-truth in that last line, that I’ve betrayed reason for pleasure.  But it also notes that:

Cleopatra and Helen of Troy are two that share in your fate.

I think I can live with that.

________________________

Phone Sex Quote of the Day: 

What I like most about talking with you Angela, is that you are always so frank.  You do like being control, but you do it in such a human, heart-felt way that it is viscerally intimate.  When I am talking to you, it is like we are really in the same room.   ~ Very special Prick Tease Caller

xo, Angela