Every once in awhile…

I find a blogpost that meant a lot to me. So much so, that I yank it out of the archives and repost it. This particular one struck me as so funny…especially since I am spending a lot of time alone lately…*cough*.

Have a great weekend.

Masturbation…Jewish Princess style…
(February 27th, 2006)

so there I was, minding my own business.

No. Really. I was.

“Minding my own business” is probably a very polite way of saying “so I was in front of the computer, getting myself off, when all of a sudden…”

Oh yeah. Like you don’t. Pffft. Whatever.

Let me take you back, back, back…way back, to a time before the hotband was in the picture. To a time when internet porn reigned supreme in CP’s life, because frankly A) I was checking out women, not men, B) The ex was a little lacking in the “give it to me night and day, baby” department and finally C) I don’t know. I was bored, it was there.

Again. Don’t judge me. You know damn well you do it too. You just don’t admit it on your blogs.

So there I am, in my computer chair. No kids at home. No (ex) husband was home at the time. It was just me, my computer and my portable little friend, Buzz Lightyear.

*blinks* Yeah. Like you don’t have a name for your vibrators (and/or penises!).

Lawdy, so judgmental!

I am pullin’ up some sweetass lesbo porn, a few threesomes, some gangbangs, couple of upskirts…you know, your average male porn, except it was being enjoyed by me…a female. Isn’t that so erotic? *eye roll* (I can literally hear my hotband panting all the way from NYC) *snort* HONEY! You’ve heard this story already. Get over it.

Anyway, when I feel I am primed and supremely ready for the thrills to begin, CLICK! On goes Buzz Lightyear! Yes! TAKE ME THERE! To Infinity…and BEYOND! Mouse in the right hand, Buzz in my left (yes, I am ambidextrous. I am also sodium free and low in monotriglycerides) and going to funky town! Wee hoo! When all of a sudden…

*snap*

My nail breaks.

Now, most women would have ignored this completely and continued with their quest to find the honeypot, the top of the mountain, the promised land. Nope. Not CP. I cannot bear to look at the brunette babe, spread-eagle in front of me, a vision of celluloid perfection…WHILE I AM SPORTING A BROKEN NAIL! No. The Jewish princess in me takes over. This simply will not do. I mean, come on. How tacky is this? I won’t even look at porn that has a poorly manicured or pedicured model. It’s not that I am a porn snob, it’s just that I am…well, okay, so I’m a porn snob. But if I expect the most from my porn, then dammit, I will be nothing less than perfect when I cum too!

I place Buzz down on my bare lap, pants down around my ankles and lean down to my purse to get out my nail glue.

SQUEEZE.

Nothing.

SQUEEZE.

Nothing.

*stab stab stab the top of the tube of glue with safety pin and SQQQQQQQUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEZE…*

SPLOOGE!

Crazy glue explodes everywhere. CP drops her fingernail. Bends over to pick up said fingernail, gluing her extremely large tits to the crazy glue that has pooled in her lap.

“SHIT!” exclaims CP.

“Bzzzzzzz,” replies Buzz Lightyear with a muffled cry from below my mammaries.

“HA!” snorts extremely hot brunette spread eagle on my computer screen. If she could be laughing at me, she would be.

“What the fuck could be worse than this,” thinks CP aloud, while trying to dislodge her vibrator from between her nipple and her labia.

*sound of garage door opening*

“HOLY FUCK,” I shriek, and jump jump jump, bent over, ass out, tits glued to thighs, into my bathroom and turn on the shower.

“Honey,” says the (ex) husband, “are you here?”

“I’m in the shower,” I call back.

“But I’m here,” says the hot brunette still dangling on the computer screen.

Fuck.

It was sort of hard explaining to my (ex) husband why there was a naked woman on my computer monitor.

“There was??? Really???” I feign complete ignorance. “Oh my gosh, someone must have sent me a virus.”

*blink. blink*

After 8 years, I think the patch of skin on my upper thigh is finally the same color as the rest of my thigh. For a long time, I had a tell-tale dildo shaped white spot where my tan tore away in the shape of my vibrator.

I now refer to it as my “birthmark”. It’s this version of the story that allows me to keep my PTA membership intact.

30 thoughts on “Every once in awhile…

  1. CP

    m – See? That’s why I dip into the archives now and then. There are truly peeable stories in there that new readers never got to see. I really felt this one deserved to be retold.

    CP

    Reply
  2. MB

    HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I need a good laugh – that is just too funny.

    I’ll have to block out some time to read some of the archives because I’ve obviously missed some really good posts!

    Reply
  3. Leave It To Cleavage

    I absolutely loved this story the first time that I read it and after reading it again, it’s just as good the second time around. I can’t shake the image of you jumping into the bathroom bent over with your breasts glued to your dildo and thighs. OMG.

    Reply
  4. Jan B

    Oh! I am dying here! My son just fell in the kitchen and I was laughing my butt off! I had a gluing my genitals experience today too and blogged about it.

    Reply
  5. CP

    mishel – Be glad about that!

    melissa – shhhh. Dont wake them! You would have to explain what was so funny!

    Amber – Dont be paranoid. Just let whatever happens happen…and then blog about it!

    Sue – I dont know how you missed that one either!

    Vanda – I would have to get you a new one then.

    Rain – No waking the dead at work!

    mb – I would suggest 2006 to start with. It was a great blog year.

    DB – That is because you were probably so busy partying you missed it!

    D hor – Hey, I had to do something and lying just seemed so easy at the time.

    Bad girl, Mama…bad girl!

    LitC – Oh yeah…like your boobs would have been any less an issue!

    CP

    Reply
  6. CP

    Jan – I think the whole world should have a genital gluing experience to write about.

    Sam – Glad you had a good laugh!

    Lurker – You peed and snotted? I love it! Thank you for the compliment!!

    CP

    Reply
  7. That Bitchy Chick

    You know, in retrospect, some of my catastrophes and situations in life suddenly don’t seem so catastrophic. Of course I must now remember to wear Depends before reading any of your posts again. Delurking btw and LOVE the blog!

    Reply
  8. Chatty

    Oh. My. God. I only discovered you about a week ago, and now I see that my weekend has SUDDENLY FILLED UP, what with having to go back and read from the archives and all. You suggested 2006 above, so I’ll start there.
    This reminded me of “Two and a half Men”, where Charlie occasionally tells the story of when Rose super-glued his balls to his thigh. What makes this WORSE – and oh so much funnier – is that you did it to YOURSELF!
    So, once your body parts were separated and back to (relatively) normal, did you go back and hunt under your computer for the lost nail, or did even the Jewish Princess in you decide just to let it go?

    Reply
  9. Assrot

    You know bloggin is really not your thing. You should be in the movies. That way we could all enjoy your sexual tom foolery and laugh our asses off.

    I’d give a golden dollar to have been a fly on the wall when you were hopping across the room, humongous tit glued to enormous cottage cheese looking thigh with buzz light year doing his best to stay in that gaping maw.

    Man, i’d have died right there from lack of oxygen from laughing so hard.

    Hope you enjoyed to fucking you got for the fucking you were trying to get.

    🙂

    Joe

    Reply
  10. Leave It To Cleavage

    Oh I never said that. With my luck I would have super glued the dildo between my breasts. I just like the image you paint of how you had to hop into the bathroom all bent over. I just love the way you tell these stories!

    Reply
  11. Anonymous

    As A Working Mom, It’s Hard To Find Time To Masturbate
    By Sheryl Marie Vos
    August 15, 2007 | Issue 43•33

    As A Working Mom, It’s Hard To Find Time To Masturbate
    As a single mother of three with a full-time career, I’ve got a lot on my plate. Between making the children’s breakfast in the morning and making sure they brush their teeth at night, I hardly have any time to take care of myself. Sometimes, I just get so darn busy that I’ll realize it’s 6 p.m. and I haven’t even eaten yet! Can you imagine? Not that I’m complaining, though. I love being a mom. But I’ll tell you what—sometimes I find it just about impossible to find a spare moment to stimulate my clitoris until I reach glorious climax.

    From the moment I wake up, I’m always worrying about someone else. I’ve got to make the kids’ lunches, get them on the bus—no easy task when it comes to Melanie—and then race around to get the house straightened up so I can leave for work. And after a grueling eight-hour day, I’ve got to turn around and go grocery shopping, stop at the bank, and pick up the kids after their extracurricular activities. I’m telling you, sometimes it feels like I barely have a second to breathe, let alone 20 minutes to writhe beneath my bedspread with the passionate thoughts of sensuous lovemaking until I gasp with the force of my full-body orgasm.

    Of course, I can’t blame that entirely on the kids. Sure, there are times when I’m picking up dinner, and I think about how easy it would be to sneak off to the restroom and rub off a quickie. But then a special on that cereal the kids like distracts me, or I happen to run into a chatty neighbor, or I’m just too pooped out from work to take that special “me time.” And that’s really no one’s fault but my own. I just keep telling myself, “That’s okay, Sheryl. Tomorrow you can take the afternoon off and run a bath, light some candles, and tease your engorged vulva to thoughts of that carpenter who put in our basement molding. Tomorrow.”
    But I never do.

    I’m not usually one to whine about such things, but my work isn’t doing me any favors either. All day long I’m in meetings or filling out expense reports or trying to fix the work that that damn Carol didn’t do right the first time. Even if I do take my lunch break to slip off into the handicapped stall, hike up my skirt, and start pleasuring my body with two, three, sometimes four fingers at a time, inevitably my cell phone will ring or someone will walk in and distract me, and eventually I just give up and go back to my desk having never shuddered uncontrollably with the powerful release only my dexterous hands can provide.

    No one tells you when you’re young, but having kids just upends your whole life. One minute, you’re more than willing to lie on the couch for two or more hours, rubbing massage oil over your breasts and inner thighs until your primed body is aching for that last gentle stroke that will send it over the edge. And then the next minute you have a few children and all of the sudden the only thing that gets you excited is not finding another cavity at the dentist’s office. It’s all about priorities. And, until the kids go off to good colleges and I save up enough vacation days to make it worthwhile, I guess getting down on all fours in front of the full-length mirror and slowly working my trusty purple vibrator in and out of my dripping love canal with increasing speed and intensity will just have to wait.

    I only wish I still had a husband to take some of this work off my hands. If I had a man around the house, I bet I could find all sorts of opportunities to masturbate.
    Ah, well. No rest for the weary, I suppose. I’m certainly not going to win any points with the feminists by saying so, but maybe we women simply can’t have it all. Maybe we have to make the choice between being a working woman who occasionally coaxes her pussy into such a lather that her hands are slicked with love juices, or a mother who spontaneously pulls over to the side of the road on the way to pick up the kids from day camp and swirls her fingers over her love button over and over and again and again, faster and faster until she’s screaming, “Yes! Yes!” and slamming her fists on the car horn.

    Because sometimes when you try to have it all, you end up losing what’s most important to you: earth-shattering, toe-curling multiple orgasms.

    Reply
  12. CP

    jake – Glad you liked it!

    Bitchy Chick – I find that depends works very well when dealing with my life.

    Chatty – -I put down the vibrator and got a nail appointment ASAP! Priorities girl!

    Assrot – Okay, who said anything about cottage cheese thighs, hm???

    Cleavage – Some things just need to be told.

    Sheryl – I LOVE that story! I hope you have it published somewhere because that is SO true!

    Maven – Some things never change!

    Turnbaby – One day I will co host your show with you and we can talk about it live on the air! *snort*

    CP

    Reply
  13. Red

    Loved, loved, loved the story! I just discovered you today and had a hell of a time keeping my laughter inside. I’m at work and they’d probably take exception to me reading blogs instead of working.

    Reply

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