While my parents were making dinner tonight, My Fucking Father's cellphone rang. Mother answered it. It was for My Fucking Father, who enthusiastically answered. It was someone named, if I recall correctly, "David!"

I don't know the details, but I think I overheard him saying something about selling something.

I think it's The Store.

I think My Fucking Father has just sold The Store.

My life, as I have always known it, is over.

They're About To Take My Grandmother Away, Ha-Ha!!!

Got the call as soon as I got home from having breakfast coffee yesterday morning: My Fucking Father has been feverishly calling every single nursing home in the area, and he finally succeeded: One close by has a space open, and he needed my help in giving the people there Grandmother's doctor's name and information.

Bad enough that My Fucking Father once again leaves me to do the detail work for him: "Oh, this isn't my job, you do this for me, son." I am now complicit in helping put away Grandmother. I should stall, but my further foot-dragging would only make both of my parents question why I'm not helping her ... which could -- could -- put my stay at home in jeopardy as well. So like a coward I called and gave the info. But only after hours, so as not to talk to her directly. That totally makes a difference.

The worst thing about all this is Grandmother doesn't suspect a thing. I don't know how to tell her, "They're about to send you to a nursing home away from here to die" in Chinese. All she did yesterday was eat and talk to her friends. She's harmless. Why send her away? Father called Grandmother up at home; he didn't tell her what's up, and she still doesn't know. Man, we are being so goddamn cruel to her right now.

---

My protestation came in the form of a meeping cry for help after half an hour of to-do list items for my parents. Mother came up and asked for the doctor information; man, they really want her to go, don't they?

Mother's words (paraphrasing; I've got bad memory) are in italics:

"If you want to throw her out of the house, why don't you throw her out of the house now?"

"Who's going to take care of her? You?"

"She's fine. Just because she's old doesn't mean she needs to go to a nursing home."

"It's a good place. There's 24/7 nurses there and everything."

"It's not home." (Here I bitched out and change the subject) "I haven't looked at this place yet."

"It's really nice. Much better than the one the nurse recommended."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

And there I dropped the conversation.

After decades of taking care of me, Grandmother deserves better.

---

Things are so fluid with this. The news is so bad, for Grandmother as well as (selfishly) me that I'm still trying to process this. Will keep you posted.

Me And My Folks

On Friday I told my folks that I would be doing stuff on Saturday. Now, this is a Friday. Not only have I done things with friends on the weekends because I'm, uh, human -- they have never liked me going out, but I've done it for so long I've kind of beat them into submission -- there was nothing going on on Saturday ... well, Chinese New Year's Eve was Sunday, and there was always a big dinner going on then (we seem to celebrate Eve more than Chinese New Year's Day, as if it's more important). I admit I'm not versed in all the traditions behind Chinese New Year's, so there could be something important to do Saturday, but I was never taught or told this by my parents.

Anyway, I tell both parents this is our small kitchen, and My Fucking Father immediately stops washing the dishes and looks at me in frustration. What, he was making plans? Plans he didn't tell me about -- like he usually doesn't???

So I angered the Old Man again, and once again I don't know for what. I could cancel; I wanted to hang out at the roller derby bout with my friend and her husband, but they're cool enough that if I need to cancel, they won't get bent out of shape. Contrast that to Father.

So I go, "What's wrong? Did you have something planned?" Father hesitated, like he wanted to say something.

"What? What is it? If there is something, I'll cancel. No problem!" I said -- no, insisted.

Then Mother, between us and working on some food, said, "No, not a problem. We are doing nothing."

I wasn't having any of this shit. I knew they had something planned for Saturday. "I don't believe you. What's going on?"

Mother said again, "Nothing," and Father muttered something under his breath before he went back to the dishes. I wanted to push the issue further -- I wanted to prove I could be a good Chinese boy! -- but as always, they turtle back into silence, probably springing their passive-aggressive revenge some other time when I least expect it. Well, if there are no plans for tomorrow, I'll just stick to mine of going with my friend to roller derby. After this minute-long standoff, I quit talking about the subject.

---

Yesterday was Chinese New Year's Eve. They made some noodles. Not like buying something, but it wasn't the elaborate pig and fish we had in Chinese New Year's Eves past. I still think they had something planned for Saturday because Mother works Sundays.

They're going to get me back.

---

I left my colored pens, the ones I use to track my days, at The Store, so I tried swinging by there to pick them up on Friday. They were closed. Where's Father?

---

Oh, and I haven't had to help him get anything for The Store in the past two weeks.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -1). They only played one meet this screening week, and there are many other teams that were good enough to take the top spot (in fact, all seven teams won at least one game this week). It's not that the opponent, unranked Purdue, was a worthy opponent. I am still impressed that the Gophers shut out the Boilermakers 40-0. This may occur with more frequency than I give it credit for. But it is the 24th time Minnesota has shut out an opponent since J Robinson became coach. And Robinson doesn't usually schedule cupcakes, like Jerry Kill and Tubby Smith do.

They'll continue to maraud through the Big Ten Conference this week against Wisconsin this (Sunday) afternoon and Michigan Friday. Added bonus: Both games are at home.

#-1: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -4). Their first winning streak of the New Year? Are they turning the corner on their season? Well, actually, I still don't think so. Nevertheless, their one game this week, an 80-66 victory at Penn St., has lifted the Goofs out of the basement. Joe Coleman -- who? -- has been a revelation of late, and the local freshman scored a career-high 23 points in downing the Nittany Lions.

They have three games this week: home to Northwestern this (Sunday) afternoon, at Michigan St. Wednesday, then back home to face Illinois Saturday.

#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -2). A sweep of Bemidji St., although the second game last (Saturday) night should not have gone to a shootout (which the team won) because they coughed up a 3-2 lead with 49 seconds left in regulation. I differ on where to place the program because of it; it is a win, but via shootout, so it's kind of not a win, you know? So, even though they did have an unbeaten week -- nothing none of the teams below this team can say -- it's not completely clean, and certainly not a 40-0 whitewashing like the U. grapplers had.

This team has to watch themselves; they play on the road the next three weekends, starting with a two-game series at MSU-Mankato.

#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). A 3-1 week, the last of those wins in dramatic fashion over the Clippers on Friday:

I think this is taken from a phone of a Clippers fan. That's why I chose it.

I've never seen Kevin Love so brash after a buzzer-beater. But I don't think I've ever seen Love hit a buzzer-beater. In any case, this cements him as a big-time NBA personality, even though his status as a Top 20 player may or may not have been established already.

So why in the fuck hasn't he signed his max extension yet? We all know what the numbers are going to be. We all know he's worth it. What's the holdup? The only reason I can think that he's balking at signing, like, yesterday is that he doesn't want to re-sign here. Which is bullshit; for the first time in a long time, everybody can see this team can be real good. Love is a cornerstone of that team. Why would he want to leave? He doesn't have to live here if he doesn't want to.

I am seeing a good spot for this team; beating opponents they should beat (Sacramento and Detroit earlier in the week) and having enough talent and a gameplan to steal a game against a team they shouldn't beat (the Clippers). Yes, they lost by 10 at Utah last (Saturday) night, but it was the second game of a back-to-back. This team is now 7-6. They're still last in the Northwest Division, but they're above .500!!!

A Texas three-step this week, although they host Houston and San Antonio inbetween a trip to Dallas and the defending NBA Champion Mavericks.

#-4: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -3). Did you know that the Gopher men's hockey team is a perfect 10-0-0 on Saturdays? That continued last night when they matched Colorado College's 2-1 over the Goofs the previous night with a 2-1 win of their own. And they did it in come-from-behind fashion, too. The fourth-ranked program have now split their last three WCHA series. Could that continue next week against St. Cloud St., which will be different since they host the first game but travel to St. Cloud the second?

#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -8). I had very little idea Rachel Banham is considered to be the best player the program has had since the Whalen/McCarville years, but apparently it is so. The Freshman Point Guard played all 40 minutes in the 71-65 win over Michigan St. Thursday, scoring 16 points, getting six rebounds and notching three steals. She's like a female Ricky Rubio!

That win helps salve the close 61-57 defeat at Michigan last Sunday. I still don't know if this squad is going to a mount to a pillar of salt, but at 3-3 in the B1G, they're not a complete embarrassment. They have a Sunday-Thursday schedule for a second consecutive week: at ranked Nebraska playing the Cornhuskers as a conference opponent for the first time ever this (Sunday) evening, then home to Wisconsin Thursday night.

#-6: Wild (Last Week: -6). The freefall continues ... and yet I don't feel so bad.

Sure, they were throttled earlier this week on the road against Philadelphia and Toronto, scoring only one goal both games. But let's focus on the one win: A 5-2 shit-kicking of the Bastard North Stars, The Team That Was Stolen From Us! It's like a college football team: You can go 1-11, but if that one win was against your rival, it's a good year. And right now, I feel that way about the Mild sodomizing the Tin Stars. (They needed to; Saturday was Hockey Day In Minnesota, and earlier in the evening both the Minnesota men's and women's hockey teams won their games [even if the ladies won by shootout and it'll officially go down as a tie]. It would have been a bummer if the day ended with a loss, and to The Team That Was Stolen From Us.)

Oh yeah; the team that was the best in the NHL as of early December would now be out of the Stanley Cup Playoffs if they were to start today. Is next week All-Star weekend? They have only one game this screening week, at The Bastard Quebec Nordiques Tuesday on national television (well, NBC Sports Network, so cable).

... And, The Visit Went As Badly As I Feared

First of all, even though I was up after a 45-minute nap (which followed another night where I fell asleep in the evening and woke up late at night) and acted as if I was totally ready to see the assessment nurse at 7 a.m., Mother told me a bit later that she actually had to come in at 8. I had to drop off my piss at 9. Adding to that was the first significant snowfall of the winter. Sure, we only had between one and two inches, but because it fell during morning rush, this was the first snowfall we Minnesotans typically need to spin out into the ditches and remember that we really, really do need to slow down in spite of the fact that we are Minnesotans. In short, seeing my Grandmother get sent to the nursing home meant that I would be late.

Luckily, she got there at 7:50. Alright, time to stall and differ with Mother. As usual, My Fucking Father hid downstairs 'cause this "ain't his thing." (And he once yelled at me for not being more sociable. Fucking hypocrite.) And like I promised her, I went to Grandmother's bedroom to wake her up. Fortunately, she was already up; I guess she heard all the commotion outside. And in a sign that warms my heart, she asked, "Is that the nurse?" She remembered!

I help her outside so she could sit in on the assessment. But then Mother calls out from the dining room table: "She doesn't have to come out. She can go back to sleep."

Maybe Mother really was looking out for Grandmother's rest. But really, I think she didn't want her to stop her plans of asking the assessment nurse to put her away. I don't know what her presence there would stop, but at the very least she had the right to see her future closing in front of her face.

So I continue coaxing her out to the dining room. But Grandmother, in either her naivete or her infinite stupidity, wanted to follow Mother's order. "Go, I don't need to go," she said, "Mother's just talking. I'll be in my room."

It broke my heart. Does she understand that Mother's deciding her future without her, one that is going to remove her from the only home she's known for 30-plus years?

I stared at her; I didn't know what to say, mostly because I didn't know how to say, "But Mother's going to send you to a nursing home if you don't say something!!!" in Chinese. But Grandmother kept repeating herself: "Go, I don't need to go. Mother's just talking. I'll be in my room."

I felt absolutely dejected. Before taking my nap I tried mapping out all the scenarios, including the worst-case ones. But never did I think that she would just let things happen without even being there.

It broke my heart, but I guess Grandmother saw this and compromised. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, and then I'll come out," she said. Well, at least she'll be present to defend herself.

Unfortunately, from the point she did sit in with us to the time she left, she really didn't understand what was going on. Mother did her usual, "Oh, she's so crazy, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!" bullshit that so pisses me off. I mean, it helps if it gets me more hours, but now that I know her true intention is to send Grandmother away, she's no longer working in my interest. I guess that was the fine line I had to walk.

Mother's phone correspondence with the nurse meant that the nurse brought out another list of homes; that's the proactivity I was afraid of. Mother mentioned that she had already called three nursing homes and all of them were booked. The best nursing home in town apparently has a five-year waiting list. Actually, I wanted to say that it would be smart to put Grandmother on the list now, but that would mean I'm aiding and abetting Mother's cause.

I am her PCA, therefore I think I know what's best for her. The only time I tried to derail Mother's narrow-as-a-missile mission to put Grandmother away was when I raised the possibility of adult day care. It is as infantile and shameful as it sounds; Grandmother gets picked up for the day and taken to a place where she could have playdates with other old people who otherwise have nothing to do and then are picked back up at the end of the day and dropped back home. Mother shot that down instantly. Why? I think it shows that she is hellbent on getting her out of her, regardless of whether she needs to or not. And as batty as she is and as frustrating as she can be to deal with, I don't see the need.

Now, adult day care, maybe (and I feel really bad attending to my needs and not helping her, at the very least, get out and just, I don't know, do stuff), but assisted living? She'd die in there. New environment, people she doesn't know, most of them can't speak her native tongue, condescending activities like painting and drawing just because it's something to do ... she'd just shut down. But that's what Mother wants for her. And Mother knows best, right? RIGHT??

The best I could do is to tell the truth: Her short-term memory is really going, she fell once, she has wandered off a couple times, she's getting more disoriented, and she has bitched about missing her checkbook for months now. Other than that, she's fine. Grandmother's annoying, but isn't harming either herself or others or the house. Yet. Till then, why worry?

I said as much when I called her late in the workday Friday, that she has had her moments of paranoia, hyperactivity and neediness (especially with her goddamn checkbooks, which she once again complained she doesn't have today -- Grandmother, don't make me agree with Mother). But I'm not the guardian. Mother is. Grandmother's good as gone. And I am powerless to stop it.

No Gameplan To Save Grandmother

So the assessment nurse is coming in about four hours -- I should be asleep!!! -- to see how Grandmother is doing. Mother will be there, because she has to, and she will be hellbent on putting her in a home.

This meeting in four hours has been on my mind since she told me a couple days ago. I'm trying to figure out a way to get through this assessment without any undue incident -- in other words, without plans to put her away in motion.

As I've said before, my reasons are twofold. I have to admit that taking care of her as her Personal Care Assistant provides me income, money that I need to survive. As soon as she goes into assisted living, that's gone. But, and I truly mean this, we would both be lonely if she leaves. I don't think she would fare well in an environment different from the one she has lived in for the past, oh, 30 years. For the exact same reason, so would I, and it would be exacerbated without the person who helped raise me all these years.

It's balanced, however, by the fact that Grandmother can be absolutely fucking annoying at times. She did not help her case when she went out on Wednesday and bought so much food that it has filled up the bottom of the upstairs refrigerator. Again, this is food that none of us will eat and will thus have to be thrown away. Again, my parents have said to not buy so much food. But Grandmother does it anyway. Now, it might not be a sign of senility; the other nurse, the one that drops by bi-monthly, says that old people do this as a way of proving they're still vital and productive in the house. But she once again has pissed off my parents, and it's hard to defend her when she at the very least didn't listen to what they said.

Moreover, usually in these annual assessments, it's Mother who takes the lead. I never did like the way she orchestrated things, but now that she's going to ask the nurse to put her in a home, I really regret not ever asserting myself during past assessments. What could I do to stop this without looking like I have an agenda?

I guess I could tell the truth, or at least the way I see things. I could say that she has left the sink on in the past, but she hasn't flooded the house since the summer. She had left food in the toaster oven and the stove on, but Father put a stop to that by taking away the toaster oven plug and turning the stove off (somehow; how did he do that?). She has this thing where she buys food that goes to waste, but is that reason enough for her to be thrown into a nursing home with a bunch of strangers, a few of them crazy enough to do her harm? I don't think so.

Yes, she is annoying, and she is getting to be a little old. But maybe she has nothing to do. I should get her to the mall once in a while -- just to get her out of the house, get her something to do, make her exercise so that her mind's right and she's too exhausted to do anything around the house that does not need to be done. Maybe I could take her to the casino when her government money comes in on the 1st. That way she could have fun while using money in a way that won't anger my parents. And then she can stay!

I thought that negotiating the meeting -- which is now going to be in three hours -- is walking a fine line, but I don't think I have a line at all. A gameplan for me to save Grandmother involves contradicting Mother. Now, I have told the assessment nurse what is actually happening at home, that my parents basically want her to leave because she bugs the shit out of them. But that would mean contradicting Mother. Not only do I risk incurring the wrath of someone who, right now, is bringing home the bacon in the house I currently live in, I don't know what kind of tableau a warring family would make in the nurse's eyes. In any case, I can't see how it'd be a good thing.

And there are a bunch of other variables, too. What if the nurse reveals to Mother what I told her over the phone? The shit really hits the fan then. I lost the nursing home list the nurse gave me; what if the nurse or Mother start yelling at me over that? That means more calls to clean my room, and that is the last fucking chore I give a shit about, especially right now. And what if Grandmother says to the question of whether she wants to go to a nursing home with, "I don't care?" I could totally see that, her being so damn wishy-washy. If she says that, then what happens? And on top of all that, what happens if Grandmother really does need to be in a nursing home, not now but soon? What's the protocol for that??

(Complicating all this is the fact that in this meeting, the guardian, in this case Mother, acts not only as Grandmother's "advocate" but also her translator. She already doesn't exactly have Grandmother's best interests in mind, but now she is also able to twist her words to fit what she wants the nurse to hear. And I can't stop her, not only because I have to tread carefully when I cross her but I also probably won't understand what they're saying in the first place.)

The one way out of all this is Mother's insouciance and incompetence. If all she says is that she wishes Grandmother goes to a nursing home and then asks the nurse's help to do all the work, then I can see a case where the nurse will not do anything because she doesn't believe she should be handling the whole thing by herself and Mother being too busy to look for homes. That would mean I would have to help Mother out, but then I could just start dragging my feet. However, any proactivity from either of them means the dominos start falling, and another big change -- one that strikes the heart of the home I need to feel secure in -- comes crashing down on me.

No wonder I need to masturbate now.

Expenses Without Receipts

• Starting on Friday, I believe -- I believe -- I followed up lunch at McDonald's (for which I have a receipt) by going across a hall at the U. to pick up some experiment contact info tags, passing by some vending machines, deciding I was still hungry, and getting a Twix: $1.25 (I think).
• That night, after working out, I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). One of the four girls there, one I'm facebook friends with, left abruptly before I could give her a tip stageside. Oh well. Tips for the other babes and coffee: $8.
• Then I went to My Favorite Coffeehouse (Late-Night Division). Mocha again. With tip: $5.25.
• On Sunday I went to the library to make a copy of a receipt as part of a rebate form that is incomplete: 10 cents.
• On Monday I found more "work" at another experiment at the U. For three hours: $30.
• On Tuesday I helped ferry Father to the eye doctor downtown and then to The Store. As he usually does, he throws money at me so he could pay, in this case for downtown parking, then tells me to keep it. That's nine bucks total there. Later, at The Store, he saw me go through my receipts. He said why do I have so many. To cover my ass, I show him one; luckily, it was for a 3-way switch he wanted me to get for him from Home Depot. And then he paid me back by giving me a $20, even though it cost me only $5. All told, this was a Daddy infusion of: $29.
• On Thursday, I went to a diner for some mid-morning breakfast. With tip: $12.50.
• Might as well do this now: I have this thing where I store shiny new coins. I saw several new dimes, nickels and pennies. Total: 30 cents.

That's it for now, I hope.

Edited to add that on this Tuesday (the 17th) I went to the gym. Since I was beyond my buy-two-months-get-three-free deal, I had to pay: $3.

Fell asleep at a decent hour again. Turned off the TV at 12:30. Woke up at 5:30.

I need to stop doing this. I have Priceline bids I need to make on my trip next month. I have columns I need to write. I have to plot a way to keep Grandmother in this house.

I must have Seasonal Affective Disorder.

I had done my best to avoid talking to the assessment nurse about planning a visit for her to see Grandmother. When she left me a voicemail, I left her a voicemail ... after business hours. And when I didn't hear back, I planned on doing it again ... later this week.

Unbeknownst to me, she apparently was speaking to Mother.

She's coming over to see Mother, Grandmother and me this Friday morning.

The walls are really starting to close in on Grandmother now.

My Black Hole Of Dick Fur

I think sufficient time has passed for me to finally blog about it. Besides, with so much shit going on in my life, I want something I can talk about that makes me happy: Sexual favors.

This is back in November, I think. My go-to ATF girl -- I'm going to try something new and just call her *****e -- said she was doing another party, another one hosted by the girl whose party I was late to the previous month. I was determined to make this one, however, because it was different; namely, this was being held at a hotel instead of the host's home. Apparently there was enough complaining that the host's daughter coming back home from the babysitter (who was, I guess, in the same condo complex) was ruining the mood of the party that it was taken to a completely different site. I was one of those people, and shit, if she wants to barge in on me taking a wank from *****e, I didn't really give a fuck anymore. She'll learn about the birds and the bees at some point.

But it was going to be at this hotel, and it was a lot closer than the host's condo, plus the "party" came together last-minute because it was supposed to be the day before but got pushed back. All that, plus the fact that I was going to deploy my strategy of swooping in at the last minute, made me think I would have a good chance of "getting a dance" from *****e one-on-one -- and, because I'm a dreamer, get some hanky-panky from the others, too.

After working out I flew down the highway to the suite, which is just west of downtown. I find myself lost in this desolate empire of townhouses, so I call *****e to come get me. It was really cold, so I step into one of these complexes. It must be weird seeing someone going into a hotel and waiting for someone; don't the people who usually go to these things immediately go up into a hotel? That's what they're there for, right?

I saw a worker at the lobby. I pulled my lips together. That's how I say hello without saying a word. That's well-known body language, right? What must he be thinking I was up to? Hope I never see him again, but it is a small town.

Across the parking lot and into the foyer of the next complex I see this blonde jump down the stairs. Ah, the girl who's about to service me! I ignore the text she send and make eye contact with her. I cross over, hug, and bound up the stairs. I wanted to take myself out right then and there, but there probably were cameras.

I like hotels; at the very least they give the appearance of cleanliness, and they look pretty. The suite the sex party was in had an orange or pink theme, but it was very well appointed. It reminded me of the suite I had in Dallas when I was down there for a minor league baseball job fair and decided to make a week of it. For dirt cheap on Priceline I had a bedroom, a big bathroom, a separate living room and a door that separated it from the bedroom. Here, the living room (and kitchen) connected to two bedrooms as well as the bathroom. Nice setup.

Also, since this was just before Thanksgiving, there was a spread of food. Nothing like food at a party, but honestly, I was there for just one thing. Food was good, though.

---

The good news was, because of the late shift in day, not many people showed up. In fact, I was the only guy there. I would usually be in heaven with that, having three girls all to myself. But then I started to hesitate. The two other girls there besides *****e are sisters, supposedly. One of them is a brunette whom I've never really spoken to. My first impression of her was when I visited the host's home (maybe they share the apartment, I don't know) and she commented that my pants were riding too low. That would be hot, but she said it like a petulant schoolgirl. It didn't help matters that later in the evening I accidentally went into one of the bedrooms which was supposedly hers and therefore off-limits. She yelled at me to leave. Well. ...

The other is the host, *a***, a big-titted blonde who used to work at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). I could not help but notice all night that I could see her nipples through her t-shirt. I totally wanted to grab them and pinch them, or even better, forcibly lift up her shirt so I could look, feel, and bite the goods. Goddamn, protruding nips. ...

I would totally get naked in front of her, but there is one unique problem: She has a boyfriend I kind of know. He used to bartend at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version), and he was a really nice guy. To move in on her like that ... all I could see is his face, disapproving. Maybe I'd get over it if she's freaky and sucked dick, like *****e says. But I was too chicken to do anything.

Well, anything besides keep my fly open after I used the bathroom. I've told you guys about my main set of porno pants, the green ones. I have a second set, brown ones, that aren't as comfortable, and the fly isn't as big. But as the old ones are fraying (and as I'm searching frantically for pants like this, which seemed to have fucking disappeared from Earth!), I've come to rely on the brown back-ups more and more.

I didn't plan on it, but when I opened myself up to pee, then buttoned just the top button, the fly opening stayed open. I didn't really notice; I was just trying to get a sexual rise out of myself and the other girls there. As *****e was doing stuff and the other sister retreated into her bedroom, I began to talk to *a*** about, oh, how her daughter was doing in school. I just happened to look down ... and saw that I could see my mound of pubic hair protruding out. It reflected in the light emanating from the lampshade.

When I looked back up, *a***, leaning against the kitchen counter, couldn't help but look down at what I was looking at. At that point, her taking a quick peek, was such a fucking turn-on. I could feel the blood rushing into my penis. I wanted to take it out and show her how she made me feel with that look, but ... her boyfriend again. Not just the image of a man, but knowing this guy and putting the moves on his girl, just ... no. That's why I have to reassess whether I want to go this particular party. It sucks, but I just don't feel right if I have to blunt these urges.

My conversation with *a*** moved to the living room couches, where a mid-major college football game was on. The other sister retreated into her room, sick. But *****e was finally ready -- I don't know, getting her wipes ready or something.

She sidled up to me and possibly put her right arm around my left arm. Then she looked down and also saw My Black Hole Of Dick Fur. And then my penis grew again. Goddamn, I live for those moments.

I could tell that the corners of her mouth pricked up juuuuuust a little. *****e looked at *a***, either in embarrassment or bemusement. I did get the message across to *a*** what I was there for, and it's possible she finally learned what *****e was willing to do -- if she didn't know already. Either way, that too was hot.

---

Off we went into the spare bedroom. Once she locked the door, she proceeded to quickly take her top off. I was getting into some small talk, but turned around and already saw that she had lifted up her shirt just enough that her tittays came free. I think I pinched her nipples, then I think I quickly pulled down her pants to reveal her sweet torso, shaved pussy included.

I wanted her to strip me; I think being unclothed by another is so sexy. But she, uh, didn't, so instead I took off my shirt. But I insisted on keeping my porno pants on, so she knew that that was part of her (hand)job!

She ordered me on the bed. She straddled me, totally naked. We made some conversation, and then the best part: She untied my pants and unbuttoned my fly (which I buttoned to make heighten the foreplay), then she reached in and reoriented my dick, which was dangling towards my legs. It was, unfortunately, soft, but *****e did all she could to make it hard, wanking me repeatedly, then forcefully.

At the risk of exposing my shortcomings, I was not erect the whole time she masturbated me. In sexual situations like this I rarely am. Performance anxiety, I guess. It wasn't her fault, not at all. But like in situations past, at some point during her stroking she told me we needed to "hurry up." Man, don't put my cock on a clock. We did take a lot of time, so much that I'm sure she has carpal tunnel syndrome. We switched positions, she turned off the lights, *****e even complimented me that she now thinks Asians are sexy. (I did all this for you, guys.)

Finally, the position that worked was a final warning from *****e and me standing up to be serviced while she sat down. At this point it wasn't pleasurable; it felt more like work. But she finally succeeded in priming my pump. My mewling cries -- which sound like a girl's, believe it or not -- made her anticipate my cumming.

When I came the first time, *****e sprang out of bed. Aw, she did that the last time! Why can't I spew onto her leg, like I did the first time we did this? Instead, she went to the closet. While I was furtively spurting semen (when more hand lovin' would have made it shoot out of a cannon; I know I could have done it, but didn't I pay her for the privilege?), she told me to cover it up with the comforter. I feel for the maid who discovered that.

Hundred bucks (plus five for the food spread) and that was that. I escorted her out after she told some weird story about another stripper we both knew being a pimp (???). I walked her to her car, and she gave me a kiss on the lips good night.

I want to see her again.