Addendum To: "So I took a chance on going to this party. ..."

After some thought, I decided to listen to my little head rather than my big one.  And after my sister and brother-in-law said they'd visit Grandmother Thursday (on the way to see The Dark Knight Rises at IMAX) instead of Wednesday, I was free.

My lie to Mother (Father was talking to Grandmother's real son when my sister asked Father for information regarding the flight she is escorting her on) was that I was called in by a fellow co-worker for help, and that it wouldn't take too long.  I then got some money out of the ATM and proceeded to drive back down to the party ... on one condition.

Even though ***e*, my ATF, gave me a sweet deal, I still remember being quite unnerved by seeing three guys there as well as her and the two roommates co-hosting the deal.  And my meager checking account convinced me to take a strict line with this.  I would go if the coast is clear; that is, if there were no men around.  That way I can go back in, hug ***e*, say hi again to the co-hosts, drop my pants and show all three of them my dick.  I have never shown three girls my cock (I have shown two, at a stripclub), but it is totally my dream, and something after which I would spend $50 for to relieve my main vein of semen.

Before I left I texted ***e* to see if there were any people.  She said that there were, but they were leaving.  Then I drove to the party, but before I did, I gave one last call to make absolutely sure I had the place all to myself.

I got one of the co-hosts, *e*** instead.  Why is she answering ***e*'s number?  Without mentioning my name -- I don't think I told her my name and I don't know if she recognizes my voice -- I asked how the party's going.  She said it's going ... and that there are people there.  No way, Jose.  I made the call just at a junction where I would either make a turn to the neighborhood where the party was or proceed straight to a coffeehouse.  That decision made things clear: I'd surf on the Internet for a little bit.

Well, sometimes I think I'm more addicted to the Internet than pornography, because I stayed at the coffeeshop (My Favorte Coffeeshop, Late-Night Version) from 8:30 till about 9:45, even though I was warned by the girls that the party could end as early as 9.  I tried calling my ATF again, but I got her voicemail.  And because it's often full, I can't leave a voicemail.  (That makes me wonder who is leaving her all these messages.  It has got to be the her other regulars, probably guys who give her more money than I ever could.)  Then I waited about 15 more minutes before, I think, I instead opted to call *e***.  She told me that the party had already ended.  Wah-wah-waaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.

Oh well.  At least I did spend some time not just surfing but working on my latest article.  And I did save money by not going back to the party.  However, this evening ***e* just told me she is doing *e**'s party tomorrow/tonight (Monday) and that she'll give me a break on dances.  I like *e**'s set-up better because at least it's dark in the house.  There are men crawling all over there, but the last couple times ***e* worked I've able to finagle some stick-work from her.  I'll try to push the envelope even more tomorrow/tonight (Monday).