Monday, December 27, 2010
My Greatest Teacher: Version 1
The battered shell of a beauty stood to the right of the oak before me, asking what it was that I wanted. I stood in awe, silence and fear trying to conjure up the courage to tell her it was her that I wanted.
In May of 1999, just after turning 21-years old and trying to recover from a broken heart, I worked a construction job which I loved doing. With construction, as some of you may know, there tends to be a little alcohol involved with those who work in the trade. The beauty was a 31-year old divorced mother of two who worked as the middle school secretary by day and as the sexiest bartender in the tri-county area by night at the bar we'd frequent after the long days of work.
As I sat with the guys I worked with back then, around the old wooden table next to the fireplace, playing cards and shooting pool, I'd glance over at her behind the bar from time to time and see her looking back at me with a smile. I watched her shoot down the attempts of others to buy her drinks and shots and the offers to take her to breakfast.
I can't say I blame them for trying to become the lucky one for the night. I say lucky one for the night because she was kinda slutty. But she was a dead sexy kinda slutty with natural blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, a 36 D chest, a size 2 waist and carried all kinds of sexuality.
I knew I wouldn't have the same level of sexual skill as she, but when she asked me, I didn't let my lack of knowledge, or experience for that matter, hamper my choice to accompany her home after the bar closed.
When we finally got to her house, it took a total of 30 seconds before she started taking her clothes off and ordering me to do the same.
She told me to lie on the bed.
She was the second partner I'd ever had, so I really didn't know too much yet. I knew where things went, but that was seriously the most of it. She taught me how to watch a woman while the act was happening and how to feel, how to touch and how to taste, too. All while not feeling, touching or tasting anything.
She covered it all.
Each time we had finished, we'd lie together in bed and talk. She told me how her ex used to beat her. And why she never went to college. The dreams she held for her little girl and boy. How she still held hope that somebody would come find her and she'd fall in love again.
The tryst's continued until February of 2000 and only stopped because of a wreck I was in. She gave up on me as I lie dying in a hospital bed. She thought I was as good as dead. She moved on. Can't say I blame her.
So now, ten years after the classes I was in with the sexiest teacher I've ever had have ended, I wish I could go back and thank her. Thank her for teaching me that hope, and love, and compassion are in our lives each and everyday. And to thank her for teaching me more about life, than she ever took credit for
In May of 1999, just after turning 21-years old and trying to recover from a broken heart, I worked a construction job which I loved doing. With construction, as some of you may know, there tends to be a little alcohol involved with those who work in the trade. The beauty was a 31-year old divorced mother of two who worked as the middle school secretary by day and as the sexiest bartender in the tri-county area by night at the bar we'd frequent after the long days of work.
As I sat with the guys I worked with back then, around the old wooden table next to the fireplace, playing cards and shooting pool, I'd glance over at her behind the bar from time to time and see her looking back at me with a smile. I watched her shoot down the attempts of others to buy her drinks and shots and the offers to take her to breakfast.
I can't say I blame them for trying to become the lucky one for the night. I say lucky one for the night because she was kinda slutty. But she was a dead sexy kinda slutty with natural blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, a 36 D chest, a size 2 waist and carried all kinds of sexuality.
I knew I wouldn't have the same level of sexual skill as she, but when she asked me, I didn't let my lack of knowledge, or experience for that matter, hamper my choice to accompany her home after the bar closed.
When we finally got to her house, it took a total of 30 seconds before she started taking her clothes off and ordering me to do the same.
She told me to lie on the bed.
She was the second partner I'd ever had, so I really didn't know too much yet. I knew where things went, but that was seriously the most of it. She taught me how to watch a woman while the act was happening and how to feel, how to touch and how to taste, too. All while not feeling, touching or tasting anything.
She covered it all.
Each time we had finished, we'd lie together in bed and talk. She told me how her ex used to beat her. And why she never went to college. The dreams she held for her little girl and boy. How she still held hope that somebody would come find her and she'd fall in love again.
The tryst's continued until February of 2000 and only stopped because of a wreck I was in. She gave up on me as I lie dying in a hospital bed. She thought I was as good as dead. She moved on. Can't say I blame her.
So now, ten years after the classes I was in with the sexiest teacher I've ever had have ended, I wish I could go back and thank her. Thank her for teaching me that hope, and love, and compassion are in our lives each and everyday. And to thank her for teaching me more about life, than she ever took credit for
My Greatest Teacher: Version 2
The battered shell of a beauty stood to the right of the oak before me, asking what it was that I wanted. I stood in awe, silence and fear trying to conjure up the courage to tell her it was her that I wanted.
In May of 1999, just after turning 21-years old and trying to recover from a broken heart, I worked a construction job which I loved doing. With construction, as some of you may know, there tends to be a little alcohol involved with those who work in the trades. The beauty was a 31-year old divorced mother of two who worked as the middle school secretary by day and as the sexiest bartender in the tri-county area by night.
I knew I wouldn't have the same level of sexual skill as she, but when she asked me, I didn't let my lack of knowledge, or experience for that matter, hamper my choice to accompany her home after the bar closed.
At the bar, she continuously slid pints at me for no charge. Perhaps she was trying to build me up to lengthen my endurance level in bed, which would be put to the test later in the evening. Perhaps she knew she'd be taking on the role of instructor, I, her student. I never asked why she kept giving me the free pints, and she never brought it up.
As I sat with the guys I worked with back then, around the old wooden table next to the fireplace, playing cards and shooting pool, I'd glance over at her behind the bar from time to time and see her looking back at me with a smile. I watched her shoot down the attempts of others to buy her drinks and shots and the offers to take her to breakfast.
I can't say I blame them for trying to become the lucky one for the night. She was a slut. But she was a dead sexy slut with natural blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, a 36 D chest, a size 1 waist and carried more than enough sexuality.
When we finally got to her house, it took a total of 30 seconds before she started taking her clothes off and ordering me to do the same.
She told me to lie on the bed.
She was the second partner I'd ever had, so I really didn't know too much yet. I knew where things went, but that was seriously the most of it. She taught me how to watch a woman while the act was happening and how to feel, how to touch and how to taste, too. All while not feeling, touching or tasting anything.
"Go slower. Now faster. Down a half inch. Over a bit. Pull my hair. Smack my ass! Twists my nipples! Lick my pussy! FUCK ME!"
She covered it all.
Each time we had finished, we'd lie together in bed and talk. She told me how her ex used to beat her. And why she never went to college. The dreams she held for her little girl and boy. How she still held hope that somebody would come find her and she'd fall in love again.
Those tryst's continued until February of 2000 and only stopped because of a wreck I was in. She gave up on me as I lie dying in a hospital bed. She thought I was as good as dead. She moved on. Can't say I blame her.
So now, ten years after the classes I was in with the sexiest teacher I've ever had have ended, I wish I could go back and thank her. Thank her for teaching me that hope, and love, and compassion are in our lives each and everyday. And to thank her for teaching me more about life, than she ever took credit for.
In May of 1999, just after turning 21-years old and trying to recover from a broken heart, I worked a construction job which I loved doing. With construction, as some of you may know, there tends to be a little alcohol involved with those who work in the trades. The beauty was a 31-year old divorced mother of two who worked as the middle school secretary by day and as the sexiest bartender in the tri-county area by night.
I knew I wouldn't have the same level of sexual skill as she, but when she asked me, I didn't let my lack of knowledge, or experience for that matter, hamper my choice to accompany her home after the bar closed.
At the bar, she continuously slid pints at me for no charge. Perhaps she was trying to build me up to lengthen my endurance level in bed, which would be put to the test later in the evening. Perhaps she knew she'd be taking on the role of instructor, I, her student. I never asked why she kept giving me the free pints, and she never brought it up.
As I sat with the guys I worked with back then, around the old wooden table next to the fireplace, playing cards and shooting pool, I'd glance over at her behind the bar from time to time and see her looking back at me with a smile. I watched her shoot down the attempts of others to buy her drinks and shots and the offers to take her to breakfast.
I can't say I blame them for trying to become the lucky one for the night. She was a slut. But she was a dead sexy slut with natural blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, a 36 D chest, a size 1 waist and carried more than enough sexuality.
When we finally got to her house, it took a total of 30 seconds before she started taking her clothes off and ordering me to do the same.
She told me to lie on the bed.
She was the second partner I'd ever had, so I really didn't know too much yet. I knew where things went, but that was seriously the most of it. She taught me how to watch a woman while the act was happening and how to feel, how to touch and how to taste, too. All while not feeling, touching or tasting anything.
"Go slower. Now faster. Down a half inch. Over a bit. Pull my hair. Smack my ass! Twists my nipples! Lick my pussy! FUCK ME!"
She covered it all.
Each time we had finished, we'd lie together in bed and talk. She told me how her ex used to beat her. And why she never went to college. The dreams she held for her little girl and boy. How she still held hope that somebody would come find her and she'd fall in love again.
Those tryst's continued until February of 2000 and only stopped because of a wreck I was in. She gave up on me as I lie dying in a hospital bed. She thought I was as good as dead. She moved on. Can't say I blame her.
So now, ten years after the classes I was in with the sexiest teacher I've ever had have ended, I wish I could go back and thank her. Thank her for teaching me that hope, and love, and compassion are in our lives each and everyday. And to thank her for teaching me more about life, than she ever took credit for.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
My New Favorite Sports Reporter
Sarah Spain was born August 18, 19?? (my guess is 1980, since she graduate high school in '98. Unless she was quick smart and graduated early, which might make her born in '81, which might make her 29. I really don't think she was held back a grade because of her college GPA, but we'll get to that later) in Cleveland, Ohio and raised in Lake Forest, Illinois. She is a graduate from Cornell with a degree in English. Hope you weren't thinking she was all body and no brains 'cause she grabbed her diploma with a GPA of 3.8. She is also a giant fan of the Cubs and Bears. Brains, beauty and a loyalty to Chicago sports? She may possibly be the perfect woman.
Sarah caused a stir a few years back when she tried to auction herself off on eBay to a lucky bloke who spent enough cash to take her to the Super Bowl to watch her beloved Chicago Bears play the Colts. Before eBay pulled the auction off its site, even though Sarah clearly stated "I am not an escort. I am just offering my companionship in exchange for a ticket to the biggest game of the year", she received bids up to $20,000.
She moved on from that episode to a career as a movie actress with roles in Souvenir, La La Land, That Ying Yang Thing and The Playbook. She's an accomplished writer (love her in the RedEye), radio host (SportsCenter anchor for ESPN 1000) and television personality, but most importantly, a professional fan.
She stands 5'11 and weighs in at a buck-fifty, but as far as her measurements go, you know, what size bra she wears, that info is top secret, only known by herself and her man, I assume.
Though she hasn't had a peep hole film made of her (yet?) like Erin Andrews, you surely can imagine the debate of which would be the better film to see.
Enjoy the pics.
Enjoy the pics.
![[sarahs.jpg]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVpAMzVp-V242SBc8QoCWk_GpcbM_wWLDEuWrSdEMAXRtYYPU0zJV9PWY4BMHgo5e2q8uUiaXZGrcPZHVMkHEmEJkS0VrhEkIkdCmW-Q65PtiG7SWzRC7P-E8gdAbTFJVznT0_QEuNxsI/s1600/sarahs.jpg)
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