Friday, May 31, 2013

I'm Having an Affair with Your Girlfriend

The following smarty phone text conversation took place on the evening of Wednesday, May 29, 2013, while I was finishing up for the day at the school I routinely destroy for kicks. All dialogue in the series is accurate to what I received or sent; the content, format, spelling and grammar is unchanged. I do have the phone number of the Mystery Messenger but it has been redacted for possible future personal funtime use.

Mystery Messager (MM): Whos this (5:15PM)

Me: I am an enigma (5:16PM)

MM: Who (5:17PM)

Me: That depends on who is asking. (5:17PM)

MM: That a picture from my fucken girlfrieend.and.why would you be when that is not her number (5:20PM)

Me: I haven't sent you anything and I don't know who you are. (5:21PM)

MM: Yea you did you sent me a pic from my gf (5:22PM)

Me: No, sorry. I have no idea of what you are talking about. You seriously have the wrong number. (5:23PM)

{End conversation}

I lied. *ahem* I LIED! I'm TOTALLY having an affair with your girlfriend. Well, I don't know if I would call it an affair more than a brief interlude when both of us caved to our most carnal of desires and documented it with pictures to be sent to our respective partners, but yeah, basically I did her. Lots.

Unfortunately, since you didn't identify yourself, I don't know specifically which girlfriend you're talking about. When you're a fabulous party girl like me, when I'm clubbin' it up hardcore I have no choice but to steal your girlfriend and get smoochy at least until the bubbles wear off. The only exception is the chance I met her in the locker room at my gym, and that's entirely different. It's serious, bro. I've been painting portraits of her and everything. I'll be happy to send them to your phone.

MS Paint artwork of a sexy bitch
What a fucken girlfrieend may look like

Friday, May 24, 2013

Sexy Women's Locker Room Secrets Revealed!

I'm telling you to shush and I look slightly naked
Promise not to tell anyone else.

I have belonged to the same gym off and on for approximately 14 years. My attendance being spotty at times was due to my undiagnosed medical issues seeming to hinder any of my progress so I would quit. Or I couldn't find a suitable sugar daddy to pay for my membership. Anyway, I'm back to venturing to my sweaty refuge several times a week. It's a very demanding fitness regime: I sit on the oblique ab machines reading Self while everyone glares at me. Every once in a while I'll give a little half-hearted spin with a grunt to prove how hard I'm working. After that, I spend 90 minutes in the steam room clearing my throat, followed by walking up and down the slippery stairs from the hot tub to the cold plunge over and over for about an hour. Finally, I head to the locker room, where the real magic happens.

The mystique of the women's locker room has been depicted in film and TV since the dawn of time. Everyone is walking around in matching underwear sets, removing them casually to all shower together, playfully slapping at each other or assisting one another in sudsy adventures as some man peeks/films/etc. This is an outrage. This is not AT ALL what happens in a women's locker room and it's time someone set the record straight. I'm willing to tell what I know as long as you promise to keep it a secret because maybe some of the other ladies wouldn't be so thrilled I'm sharing their sexy exploits. So, do you promise to keep your mouth shut? Yes? Good. Here we go.

Story #1

It was a quiet, peaceful evening as I sauntered into the locker room, casually tossing my golden locks about my shoulders in case any strong, hunky men were watching. At a quarter to midnight, you never knew what to expect at this 24-hour wonderland of delights. I dropped my bag onto the bench and sighed, as removing my clothes felt like such a tiring chore to do alone. If only there could be someone to assist me with the complicated nature of female clothing. I sighed again--a little louder this time--following it with a quick pucker at myself in the mirror, and was shocked to hear the sound of a man coughing for attention behind the next row of lockers. I shuddered with anticipation.

"Yes?" I breathed softly, folding my coat an placing it on top of my bag.

"Is it safe for me to come around?" The man asked, his voice echoing throughout the dimmed chamber.

"For now," I chuckled, hand poised to start unbuttoning.

The gentleman appeared around the corner of the lockers, wearing a uniform and clutching a circuit tester. A second man emerged behind him. It was clearly my lucky day. I felt warmth flush over my chest and up to my face.

"Oh, hi Jen," the second man said, who I now recognized as a manager of the gym. "The lights blew out back here and we waited until late when there weren't as many people around to look at the problem. It's not just the bulbs. It should only be another couple of minutes. Could you please tell anyone else that comes in so we don't have a mishap? There's the other room upstairs if they need to get changed."

"No problem," I replied... and did what he asked.

Story #2

Against my normal routine, I dared to enter the gym at an earlier hour than usual on a sunny Friday morning. The sun's rays shone through the pool room's windows, making the warm water twinkle invitingly. I walked into the locker room and was surprised to find women everywhere. It was exactly how I heard of it in legend: everyone was topless or completely naked, laughing as they helped each other dress or rub lotion into their tired muscles. I watched, transfixed, as they took up every available space in the large room. The benches, the showers, the counters. Everywhere I looked I saw a naked woman and her endless accoutrements. I couldn't believe my eyes, so I decided to trust my ears.

"And that's why I won't eat bread anymore. I saw it on the TV. When you toast it, it turns into sugar. It crystallizes into sugar," one woman said.

I'm all wet, eating a bagel in the shower
What someone eating a bagel may look like.
Another chimed in, "Oh, really? Well, I'm not going to eat any more bread, either. I don't need my diabetes to get any worse."

A third asked, "Then what am I supposed to do with all of this?" I looked over to follow her voice and noticed the giant pile of plastic bags of nothing but bagels and cocktail breads. The largest bank of benches was covered in all types of bagels, and tiny little slices of breads begging for cheese and meat to top them.

Several other women slowly shuffled over to collect the bread items, claiming that they just wouldn't toast them, then, and the bagels would keep quite well in the freezer. All of this was well and good but I SWEAR TO GOD the next time I come in here and all the Aqua Aerobics old ladies have their shit all over the place AN HOUR AFTER CLASS HAS ENDED and I can't find an effing bench to put my stuff so I can change or even get to a locker for cripes sake I'M GOING APESHIT and TEARING THIS PLACE UP SO HELP ME!

Story #3

I exerted myself fully through a most strenuous workout and felt horrible aches and pains all over due to the fact I was still recovering from a broken foot and the overcompensation for it placed strain throughout my body. Due to this, I still required stability assistance and remembered that one of the showers had grab rails in case I felt the need to grasp something hard.

The shower head was adjustable to many lovely settings but all I cared about was feeling the sense of my dirty deeds leaving my body. As I massaged shampoo through my hair, little bubbles floated away through the air, creating a magical scene of true joy. I have never felt closer to all of creation. In fact, I suddenly felt I was not alone. Turning ever so slightly to the left, I noticed a hand pulling the curtain aside and a tiny blue eye peered in at me through the crack. I playfully giggled to myself as she continued to open the curtain--OH DAMMIT one of those old Aqua Aerobics ladies AGAIN! GTFO OF MY SHOWER! You do not have an exclusive arrangement with the handicapped shower. SERIOUSLY. You look in here to give me the stink eye ONE MORE TIME and I'll send you to you meet your maker right quick TRUST ME.

Story #4

I saw her cautiously place her treasure into the locker before carefully closing the door. She looked around with a most serious expression on her face, the twinkle in her eyes belying her facade as she locked gazes with me. She gave a wistful smile, a sexy glimpse into the very depths of her soul. This would be our little secret, I told myself as I exited the room to go sit on the leg machines for an hour with the newest issue of Cosmopolitan. In the back of my mind, the sense of anticipation for what was to come in the locker room began to build. I simply couldn't wait for the payoff I expected. It was too much for me to handle and I was ready to explode.

Merely an hour later, I returned to the locker room and rushed to get ready for the shower just in case ONE OF THOSE DAMN OLD LADIES appeared. Anyway, I was getting everything out of my locker when I heard a most intriguing sound: moaning. This soft moaning was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of licking. My ears perked up and the hairs on the back of my neck tingled. The moaning and licking were soon joined by smacking and with this I couldn't hold back any longer. I peeked around the lockers and saw my special friend from earlier. She had retrieved the fast food bag and drink out of her locker and was clearly enjoying the Big Mac that had been sitting in there for an hour, its cold meat satisfying the deepest longing and undoing the entire workout she had just completed.

I hope you enjoyed this salacious look into the true sexy stories of women's locker rooms. You're just going to have to wait for the installment of stories from the hot tub and pool area. We'll save that for another day.

I've been careless with a delicate man
The guilt from revealing these stories is too much to bear.