let me tell you the story about the man, his hand, and the woman with blue shorts.

It was a warm evening, though a little humid, but still nice. Maria and I were casually drinking our beers at The Mill, a local suburban pub, sitting together, stroking one another as we do on any other day in our friendship (well, more like me demanding to be stroked), when I look over to the bar and notice a middle-aged couple, a man and his woman sitting next to one another. The woman had on stretchy light blue shorts the color of the ocean on a sunny day, the exact shade of which I will never forget I think. She was a voluptuous woman with one of those body types where the waist is impossibly small compared to her booty which seemed to belong to someone at least 100 lbs over her weight. The man, with his suit and fedora... had his arm and hand shoved down the back of those shorts so far, it looked like it was buried wrist-deep in her ass crack.He was digging around in there with absolutely zero reaction from the woman herself as she sipped her appletini (do they even sell those there?). But no... no please. Let me tell you what was even more disturbing. The man was staring our direction very very intently.

Very slowly, I moved to Maria's ear to tell her what had just happened since she was turned toward me and not facing him to see this like I was. She chuckled, looked over there but he had already turned away and taken his hand back out. He kept eyeing us though, quick glances, and then sometimes he would look at us and slap her ass, grab it, and shake it around in his hand. "THIS IS MINE!!!" was what his eyes and gestures were saying.

Anyway, I went to the bathroom at this point to tinkle, leaving Maria alone for a minute. Upon returning, I noticed a look of pure horror in her eyes as she tucked herself further and further into the dark corner we were sitting in, blushing madly. She jumped up when she saw me and demanded that we sit on the other side of the large pillar so that we would no longer be in the man's line of sight, because apparently after I left, they caught eachother's eyes and he has shoved his hand into the woman's ass again and begun digging around, not breaking eye contact with Maria.

I was extremely amused at how disturbed she was but also it was completely understandable. We sat at the bar on the other side of the pillar... but did this stop the man?

Well. Now, he was being blatantly clear that he meant to stare at us as he bent backward, around the pillar and looked at us, slapping his woman's ass over and over, squeezing, penetrating, shaking, grabbing. And conveniently, the woman's ass was the only thing that was protruding naturally from behind the pillar so it was even more ridiculous when all we saw was a hand slapping it around and jiggling it, yet his head trying very hard to peak behind the pillar to see our reactions. Maria's virgin eyes were so wide and sparkling, I could see both of our lives the lives of our children and memories just flashing and cascading into black holes of oblivion as all of the innocence that was once there was vanishing by the millisecond. She was a changed woman.

She was never the same again. And me? Well... I am here, though hardened by the events of that night, I am here. I am here to remind her of that night so that her brain cannot repress the image of the man, his hand, and the woman with the blue shorts.

hello hello

I have thought on and off for a few months now about beginning a blog. Still I am uncertain. But I enjoy writing on occasion and I have a wonderful best friend named Maria.

We met in highschool. She was just a piglet back then. As our paths intertwined, our gravitational fields enveloped one another - and sometimes our bodies - to form what I now consider to be a beautiful and loving friendship. We are often asked if we are sisters and Maria has proposed we just give in and say we are. So who is this mysterious Maria anyway? And who the hell am I?

Maria and I are both from Ukraine. I was only a few years old when my family immigrated to Chicago, Maria was in high school. She seems to remember more than I do about how we met and became friends so I don't want to create a false story. One thing I know for sure - she was short and grew like a foot in one year. That was strange.

Maria likes to read, play computer games, write, and is extremely sexy. Appropriately, she soon plans to go to college to major in Human Sexuality. She currently works at a desk job in retail, dresses all professional and nice, but sends me naughty underwear pics shes takes in the store's bathroom. Uh.... well I bet she would if I asked her to. I know she has some scandalous lacy garments under there. I will do random checks to make sure.

And myself... I love horror movies and over-the-top comedies, cartoons, video games.. I draw and paint, I think too much about everything and I want to go to space. I have less sexy underwear than Maria but I still try to feel sexy by comparing myself to my fat cat, Gaia, who will making appearances on this blog as well because of her ridiculous sleeping poses.

And there you have it. I don't know where this is going but.... I suppose that's life. Tadaaaa

Maria & I

Our friendship keeps my mind from unraveling into chaos.