Smitten with Him

grown-up stuff happens here sometimes

Contacting Loserman

I had to call Loserman today about my broken truck, Bear.

We only talked about my truck.

(That’s the way I wanted it — it’s hard enough just thinking about talking to him, let alone doing it without tearing his heart out and having it for a snack…)

At the end of our conversation he told me that I could have called or texted him Friday night when it happened.

I explained that I didn’t want to bother him, and then said I was sorry my truck broke.

(because I am really, really sorry that Bear took a shit before I was ready to talk to Loserman about it)

He said, “You’re never bothering me.”

I told him that I don’t feel that way and that my heart still hurts from the way he treated me (on our sk8-venture from hell).

I told him that I still cry every time I think of him.

(Mondays are the hardest and I don’t know why, but every Monday my heart aches for him.
I didn’t tell him that, I am just sharing that with you.)

It got uncomfortably silent.

His eventual response was, “I will think about Bear for a couple days while it’s cold. From what you’re saying it sounds like there are two things going on. I’ll call you later in the week so we can make plans to look at him when it warms up a little.”

I just want to hear him to say, “I’m sorry I broke your heart, Mamacita.”

I don’t want to get back together with him — at this point, nothing would make me want to get back together with him.

I know that after talking to him today.

The entire time I felt uncomfortable and defensive. I was holding back tears and sniffling. I wanted to lash out at him. It was hard to hold my tongue when the mean things in my head were screaming so loudly to get out!

I just want him to tell me that he’s sorry for what he did to me — without me having to ask him for the apology.

I want him to acknowledge he hurt me.

I want to know that he feels bad for it.



Do You Miss Me?

Sometimes, when we don’t get to ‘reconnect’ for a while, do you ever miss me?

Yes, Mamacita, WE miss you.

I thought about what he said for only a second before I realized what he meant. I smiled at him and responded, “You always know the exact, right thing to say.”

And then I kissed him on the cheek, because he was driving.

Love this!


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Even Though He Was Sick

… he still kissed me when we met up very briefly yesterday morning.

He never kisses me when he’s sick.

He asked how I was doing and I answered, “I’m okay, but you could text me back more. How are you?” Then I winked at him because he knew exactly what I was talking about (click here and guess the password 😉 if you haven’t already).

“I know, Mamacita. I’ve been sick. So mostly I’ve been sleeping.”

“Oh my goodness! You’re sick and you kissed me anyway. There’s a first time for everything!”

“Yes, Mama. You’re the one always telling me,” then he started pretending to talk like me, “‘I’ll be okay. I don’t know why you don’t just kiss me already. Jeesh!‘ So, I just kissed you.”

He makes me laugh.

Usually I have to beg for a kiss when he’s sick and then he will totally fake me out and turn his face at the last minute so I end up kissing his cheek.

He must have missed me.

Kiss on the Cheek by nyappykimi

Kiss on the Cheek
by nyappykimi

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It’s The Thought That Counts


You may already have deduced this, but I am a chronic weed smoker. Been that way for over 20 years. Kids know, parents don’t.

I smoke it to calm my anxiety. It’s like my Xanax. It has been that way my entire adult life. I also have a seizure disorder, so I smoke to avoid some of that bullshit. Seizures suck — for me and all the people around when it happens (and I totally hate the way prescription seizure meds make me feel. Been there. Done that).

I live in Colorado, where it’s now 100% legal for 21+ and has been medically legal since before I moved here 7.5 years ago.

I have a Caregiver who grows some of the most mind-blowing buds you will ever smoke. She is totally awesome. Not only is she my medical-marijuana Caregiver, she’s like the mom I always wish mine was. Once a month I go over to her house and pick up my “prescription” and we have a mini-therapy session. I love that woman!

It’s very likely that the amount of pot I smoke in a day would fuck most of you up for the better part of a week. Every once in a while, I skip a few days and let the THC and Cannabanoid levels in my body lower, but not very often. It’s very rare you will find me without marijuana on my person in some form.

I love the feeling of serenity and inner peace that I feel when I am high. It also helps me to focus my scattering thoughts on just one thing. And, unlike alcohol, it does not lower my inhibitions. I’m just sane(r).

There are times when you can tell that I am stoned and there are times when you would never, ever suspect. I have been high for so long that my coping mechanism, in this aspect, is quite impressive.

Anyway… The point of my telling you all of this is so I could tell you a very short and sweet story-within-a-story.

Last Thursday night was an amazing date night for me with Loverman. I tried something new and acted a little differently on the advice of a new friend.

When we left each other Friday morning, Loverman said to me, “There’s something for you in your truck. But don’t look for it, it will ruin the surprise! Let me tell you about it later today.”

OMG! How cute, right? So, I said, with a twinkle in my eye, “Okay, baby. I will try not to look, but if I find it on accident don’t be mad.”

“Mamacita!” (he calls me that all the time) “You better not. I want it to be a surprise. You would never find it on accident.”

I did what I was told and I didn’t look for it (much) and I definitely didn’t find anything.

At 4:45PM I received the following text:

Your surprise is in the driver’s door. It’s a small baggie. This guy didn’t want to go into work with it so he gave it to me to throw away.

I honestly think my face actually lit up! It’s bit deviant, but how totally sweet! At his security job he confiscated someone’s bag of weed and then he saved it for me!

When I got home I checked the door where he said and found a tiny bag of shake. I suspected that it was going to be pretty bad stuff but I really didn’t care because he thought of me!

I responded:

You’re so sweet! Sometimes you amaze the hell out of me. I love my surprise!

Because I did. Super-bad-ditch-weed or not.

You know why it’s even more of a surprise? Because Loverman has been trying to get me to stop smoking pot since he met me.

While we were on our sk8venture last November, we got into a pretty big disagreement (for us. We hardly ever disagree. 6 years and 3 ‘fights’) and I was wound tight as a spring. As we finished up our heated discussion in his truck and got ready to go into the hotel, I told him I needed to smoke up to calm down and I asked if he wanted to join me. He said, “No, babe, but you are more than welcome. Just don’t stay out here too long” then he went inside.

When I got back to the room he was lying in bed watching something on TV and I asked if I could get into bed with him. I was relaxed and apologized for the crazy-me from earlier and we made up…

I should have just told him I needed to get high earlier and I think we could have avoided an entire night of stress, but he didn’t want me to be doing drugs so I was trying not to.

I think that’s when he started to understand more about why I smoke it and just accept the fact that I do. Frequently when I am with him I am high, but I have never smoked in front of him.

It turned out to be super-bad-ditch-weed. LOL! But I don’t give a shit.

Because it really is the thought that counts.



I feel like I used to have a lot to say here and, as time goes on, it seems like I have less and less to tell you about. There are weeks where I think there are a lot of things to share and there are weeks when even *I* bore myself… Blogs are supposed to have structure, and I have tried that, but do journals require the same kind of structure?

I’m not boring in real life. Really. But you can’t always put everything from real life into words.

bored-spot-bored-944713_500_416Is it because I have reached some kind of apex, wall, plateau, if you will?

I feel like my life is changing. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I think the parts that I want to share now are not necessarily the parts that you are waiting for me to write about (but I don’t want to start another blog. Been there, done that). I’m not entirely sure why I’m worried about it or even what I’m worried about… But now that I think of it, it has been a long time since I’ve written something sexy — and it isn’t because I haven’t been inspired, I just don’t feel the need to put it in words. Or maybe I can’t find the right words to use…

Recently I’ve been more focused on losing my pesky, squishy belly-fat and attempting to learn how to run outside (treadmill is a piece of cake). I’ve been counting calories and adding new exercises (lots of times unsuccessfully), adding new vitamins, trying desperately to add more protein to my diet (again, mostly unsuccessfully), dealing with peri-menopause, trying not to kill the roommate-husband (at least he stays out of my way — but still treats me like shit *sigh*). Basically, I’m lost in the the midst of changing into a middle-aged woman!

Menopause increases belly fat but no overall weight gain.

Menopause increases belly fat but no overall weight gain 😦

It might be more juicy interesting, but I don’t like talking about the husband here because I am trying to focus on the good things in my life. I am trying to look for things that uplift me; things that make me happy and bring me joy. Mr. Gloom-n-Doom is not (can you tell by the pseudonym?) one of those things. And it doesn’t matter anyway, he won’t exist in my world much longer; maybe another year. Tops… Then I will probably have plenty to share with you about his incompetence, rudeness and just plain ineptitude.

OR the Ongoing Adventures of Loverman and Mamacita will just get that much better!


Impulse Control: 1 — Creepy Facebook Guy: 0

Dude finally called me Friday night, right after I dropped Loverman off at work. I told him all those things I said I would! In fact, that was how I started the conversation (after “Hi” of course!).

Hey, Dude, I am sorry for flirting with you on Facebook and sexting you. I didn’t mean to lead you on, but I was flattered by your attention and took it too far. I hope you can understand. My sexy baby treats me very well and I don’t want anyone else but him. (I left out the I’m-married-very-unhappily-and-my-life-is-already-complicated-enough part).

~ I bet you’ve never been with a ‘brotha’. You ever been with a ‘brotha’?

Ummm… Yeah, my boyfriend is a ‘brotha’.

~ Uh… Really?!?

Yeah, we’ve been together 5 years. He’s my skating partner. He’s one of my friends on Facebook… I thought you were ‘checking me out’ on there the other day. I have two teenagers, too…

We talked a while longer while I tried to tell him the things that I said I was going to say in my last post.

Funny thing is, Dude would not take no for an answer but he was barely listening to the words that I was saying to him. There were a LOT of “Oh. I see”‘s when I was the one talking. Clearly he wasn’t interested in anything I was trying to tell him and he kept bringing the conversation back to sex (truth be told, all the sex talk just made me more horny for Loverman). The only reason I didn’t hang up is because I was having fun teasing him and listening to the things he said he wanted to do to me. Every once in a while I would remind him that Loverman satisfies me completely and I don’t want him to “give it to me hard and fast and deep” — that’s definitely NOT how I like it. But, apparently I would love it. No one has ever really ‘fucked’ me before so I wouldn’t know. I should give it a try… If I let Dude ravage me, I would know what sex is sup-pos-ed to feel like.


He kept telling me that he could do things for me that my man couldn’t or wouldn’t do. I kept telling him I really don’t want to be with a guy who tries to steal girls from other guys and that my man is making me very happy, thank yousleep-mask_main.jpg (and, for the record, I have been ‘fucked’ before. I know what I like! That’s not it.).

Eventually, I told Dude I had to go because I would be seeing Loverman very early the next morning (I hope he understood what I was trying to imply) and I needed my beauty sleep.

At 6AM Saturday morning, when I picked him up from work, I told my sexy Loverman all about it. I told him everything. I tell him everything. I want to tell him everything and it’s especially fun telling him when guys hit on me. (Meanwhile, Mr. Doom-n-Gloom knows nothing. I’m not sure he even cares… He sure doesn’t act like it…)

While we were talking, I asked Loverman to tell me that he thinks that I am beautiful, too (I’m a girl. I need to hear it sometimes). His response was to grab my hand and put it on the erection practically bursting out of his pants. He leaned in close and said to me in his Barry White voice, “You know how sexy I think you are. I don’t know why you need me to say it!” He pressed my hand deeper into his bulge so I could feel his rock hard pulse throbbing in my palm. “Mamacita. Can you feel what you do to me?! I would much rather show you than tell you.” (This is why I adore him so much!) He kissed me sweetly. I returned his sweetness and squeezed his erection tightly. A flood of passion raced to my pussy and I could feel the wetness surge into my panties. My entire being was consumed with desire for him. How could I possibly want anything else?



When We Woke Up

Waking up Wednesday morning was pretty much the same as falling asleep the night before: Loverman fast asleep while I was awake and trying not to disturb him too much. My mind started wandering again, thinking the wrong thoughts. I guess the conversations and the love we had the night before had not been enough to assuage my negative feelings about the money I have been giving him. By the time he woke up, I couldn’t tell if it was my sniffling that woke him or if he had just woken up naturally (it was probably my squirming).

He rolled over onto me, wrapped his arm around me and squeezed me tightly. “What’s wrong, Mamacita?”


He asked again, “Mamacita, please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to argue or ruin our time together. It’s nothing.”

Third time’s a charm… “Sometimes I can’t help but feel that maybe you’re just using me for my money. I keep telling myself that it’s not true. I know that it’s wrong and that’s why I didn’t want to talk about it, because it IS wrong and I don’t want to fight with you about something so stupid.”

His arms released me so he could sit up next to me and I rolled over to face him. He wasn’t angry or irritated. It looked like he was thinking very hard about the right thing to say… I didn’t wait for his response, “But you could just tell me right now that you don’t feel that way and it would help me feel a whole lot better.”

“Do you think we would be able to do all the fun things we do together if it was just the money? Mamacita, it is SO fun doing things with you, I don’t want you to think it’s just the money.” The next thing he said was so sweet it made my heart skip a beat, “I do things with you that I used to do by myself; things that I never used to even think about doing with other people. Like going to the junkyard and fixing a car…” His words drifted off.

“Awwww, that was so sweet! Thank you. I know it’s silly, but I really appreciate you saying that, it means a lot. Thank you for sharing your alone times with me, baby.” I leaned up to kiss him, pushed him down onto the bed and then tossed the sheets up into the air high enough that I would be able to crawl under them (and on top of him) quickly. As my body lay on top of his I looked at him and said, “I am sorry that I made that rule where we can’t say ‘I love you’. It’s a stupid rule! Because I DO love you and sometimes I really, really want to say it and I wish you could say it, too.”

We made love again and, in the afterglow, we talked a little more about the money issue. We talked about how we are both afraid of losing the other to “someone better” and we came to the conclusion that neither one of us really want anyone “better”. We are happy and neither of us is going anywhere. I talked about how easy it is to be comfortable around him, how I don’t want to have to do all that work again with another person. He agreed and then we drifted off to slumberland…

We woke up right before 8AM and, while we were showering, I reminded Loverman about what we were supposed to be doing that day: getting his driver’s license fixed and getting his truck payments caught up. Then I asked him if he wanted to do something that I had mentioned a few days ago:

I mentioned that I had a little money in savings and was thinking about buying a car for Thing #1 at the impound auction which they just happened to be holding on Wednesday morning, and since we were going to be together that day anyway, maybe it would be cool to go and check it out. Even if we didn’t buy a car, we would get to do something fun, new and educational together and that’s always a blast. Then, maybe we would be able to go again another time knowing better WTF…

I knew what he was going to say, but I asked him (anyway) what he wanted to do for the day. I knew what we should be doing, but I also knew that if we did manage to get a cheap, working car at the auction,  he would have something functional that drives him around until my daughter can get her license and he can afford to get his broken truck up and running properly.

His answer was what I expected and we ended up hurrying up to get to the car auction by 9 o’clock. We were only 5 minutes late, paid our deposit to get in and then started to wander around looking at the cars. A few days before I had sent Loverman a list of the cars that would be in the auction and he had a few specific ones that he was interested in and wanted to take a look at.

The auction started at 9:35 and we raced to get back to the one car that we thought maybe we would be able to afford. We lost 😦 because we didn’t really know what we were doing. Auctions are hard! It’s hard to understand the auctioneer and, once we got the hang of things, the auction was practically over… But, we both agreed that it was an AWESOME experience and that we had a really, really good time there together. Also, both of us said that we want to do it again, even if we don’t buy anything… It was THAT fun!! 🙂

After I was sufficiently sunburned (even though I had on SPF 45! We were out in the direct HOT sun for almost 3 hours. I’m starting to peel today…) and our water supply was running dry, Loverman said, “Well, we might as well get going to the DMV to get my license issues worked out…”

“Okay, Baby. But can we go get something to eat when we’re done there. The donut we shared for breakfast is starting to wear off.”

Loverman laughed at me and said, “See? I will starve your ass!”

“I know, sexy man! That’s why I told you how hungry I am… And thirsty!”

His response was a bout of laughter and then, “Okay, Mamacita! We will get something in your tummy when we’re through. And some extra root beer!”

Amazingly, we only had to wait for 5 minutes at the DMV before they called his number and the whole thing was said and done in less than 30 minutes! It was CRAZY how fast it went! We had McDonald’s for lunch and I even drank my extra root beer (I was so thirsty I finished the large McDonald’s soda all at once and then went straight back for a refill. Loverman had a really good laugh about that one!).

This wasn’t the end of our day, however. He still had to drop me off at home so I could spend some time with Thing #1 because I wanted to celebrate her birthday with her (a day early, but I couldn’t get Thursday off… and I did spend the morning trying to get a car for her…). She would be turning 18 and I just got her some new skates… Wednesday is our skating night so I wanted to make sure they were in perfect working order before we set out at 6PM. Loverman was going to drop me off at home and then come pick me up again for skating. So, when he left to run some more errands, I gave him very specific instructions not to pick us up any later than 5:45, and then I told him that I don’t mind as much when he’s late for me, but it’s her birthday can he PLEASE be on time!

My oldest daughter and I had a great time putting together her skates; getting them ready, making sure the wheels weren’t too stiff and that the trucks weren’t too loose. We fastened all the screws and changed out her new bearings for a pair of my old ones

And guess what! Loverman was late picking us up. This time my emotions were much less controllable and when he called to tell me where he was and why he was late, I said, “Okay” and then promptly hung up the phone. Immediately afterward I felt terrible for hanging up on him, but also I felt somewhat justified. So, I waited another 20 minutes and, when he still hadn’t picked us up, I called him again (I am proud of the way I handled this call as opposed to the other one where I hung up). First off, I was immensely surprised that he even answered because he really doesn’t like it when I hang up on him — I figured that he just decided to go home instead of picking us up. Second off, I immediately thanked him for answering the phone. Thirdly, I apologized for hanging up on him “I am sorry that I hung up on you. It was the wrong thing to do. I was so angry at you I thought I was going to say something mean, so I just hung up instead.”

He apologized and told me that he had forgotten to drop his friend’s car keys off and had to turn around half way to us and go back to where he came from. Then, on his way back, traffic caught him and there was nothing he could do.

He finally picked us up over an hour late! I had settled myself down to a mild simmer and really just wanted to head to the skating rink to get my exercise on and my stress out. Thing #1 had been waiting patiently for him this entire time (bless her patience!) and her lightness of spirit was trying to rub off on me. We had fun talking during the short ride and, by the time we got to the rink, I had calmed down almost entirely.

My feelings have been challenging me to the extreme for the last few weeks and I am ready to just have a normal, feeling-free week of peacefulness. Unfortunately, my lovely Aunt Flo came this morning and I am back on my roller coaster of emotions for a couple more days anyway….

But, I am proud of the way I am learning to handle myself and look at things. I can’t blame others for the choices that I am constantly making — even if I make the choice with someone else in mind, it is still very much MY choice. I can’t be angry at Loverman when he doesn’t respond the way I want him to; he is programmed differently and reacts differently so I need to be more mindful of the things that he does do in response or reaction (and others, too).


I Wish You Were Mine

Kiss - 2007


What, Mamacita.

I wish you were mine.

Why? So we could just lay in bed together like this and be so peaceful?

… and happy? Yeah, baby. I want to fix you when you’re hurting. I want to feed you when you’re hungry. I want to love you when you’re lonely.

But, Mamacita, you don’t get lonely, you have the girls.

But they’re not the same as you…

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Special Moments

It snowed all night Monday night and it was slippery enough that, on Tuesday morning, Loverman came to pick me up and bring me to work.

First Day Of Spring
by Masha88

I always love these little opportunities to see him during the week. As much as I miss my awesome truck, part of me is not looking forward to trading his car back for it. That will mean that I won’t have convenient excuses for these weekly-ish rendezvous (though I am sure we will be able to find something). Also, winter will be over next Wednesday, so there won’t be so many icy days where he feels it would be safer if he was the one to drive me  around in the truck.

I am learning to appreciate these special moments as exactly that: special moments.

When he came to get us, he was still wearing his uniform because he had just gotten off of work. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before, but I love it when he’s wearing a uniform — either his security or mechanic uniform — but, probably any uniform he was wearing would make my heart leap in my chest

We dropped my daughters off at school and the rest of the commute in was pretty much uneventful — you know, snow, traffic, icy roads, conversation… While we were talking, he mentioned that he had the night off and I asked if he would be interested in spending it with me. He replied that we would have to wait and see how the day played out first – there could be step-son school things to attend to or friends’ cars that needed fixing…

Before I knew it we were at my building, kissing good-bye.

Our days both passed uneventfully. In fact, my afternoon at work was so boring I tossed around the idea of leaving work early. But, when I called Loverman to see if he could come get me, he didn’t answer. So, I figured that he was busy. I managed to endure the remainder of my day. It didn’t surprise me when received a text from Loverman that he would be 30 minutes late because he needed to pick up his step-son at school.

CalvinHomeworkHe ended up only being 15 minutes late to pick me up. Again I asked if he would be able to spend the night with me. This time the answer was, “Yes, but I have to go home first. C hasn’t been turning in his homework and I have to sign something that he needs to return to school. Then I have to go over his current homework with him, because apparently he doesn’t understand that he’s going to get held back next year if he doesn’t get an A on everything!” (See my post Husband Swap if you’re wondering what I’m talking about.)

My response in turn was, “That’s okay, I have to go home first too. Everyone might wonder if I didn’t come home after work. How about meeting me on my side around 8?” (There is a Motel 6 on his side of town and one on my side of town. Both are relatively close to our houses — how conveeenient, eh? So, we frequently just ask: Your side or mine?”)

“8’s good for me, baby.”

“OK, I will text you the room number like last time.”

We went our separate merry ways and at 8, like I said I would, I texted our room number to him. There was no response from him for over an hour… I was starting to get a little curious when he finally called, “C totally messed up all his homework and I had to review it all with him. I am sorry to be late, but I am leaving the house now.

Like the last time he called to tell me he was running late, I was just overjoyed that he called me to tell me what the hell was going on. Then he texted me if I had eaten dinner yet and if I wanted to and where.

He got to the motel and picked me up. Again we were on our merry way — this time to McDonald’s. Woo hoo! We waited for almost 30 minutes in the drive-thru lane (after we had already ordered our food) before Loverman decided that we weren’t waiting any more and drove off. Did I want something else to eat instead?

“Ummm… Popeye’s?”

Popeye’s it is then,” and we took our adventure to the Popeye’s drive-thru instead, which really wasn’t much better. There wasn’t a line, but it took them almost 15 minutes to get our food to us! When all was finally said and done, it took us almost an hour to get our “fast food”. We could have gone to the sit-down restaurant across the parking lot from our hotel and still had our food sooner. But, we had fun making fun. As always…

Man, that food was good! I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I felt that hot, flavorful, Popeye’s chicken grease slowly clogging my arteries. We sat at the little cute table and ate our lovely slow food and enjoyed each others’ company. But when I started to yawn, Loverman got up from his seat and said, “Looks like it’s past Mamacita’s bed time. We better get you tucked in.” (It was. He was right.) He walked over to where I was sitting and unbuttoned my blouse. As I stood up to greet his lips with mine, I let the fabric slip off my shoulders and onto the floor. I pulled his sweatshirt up over his head and tossed it over onto the clothes rack in the corner. He unbuckled and removed his pants earlier when we sat down to eat so all I needed to contend with was his underwear. As I lowered them down his legs I also lowered myself onto my knees so I could appreciate his thick, hard masculinity for a few moments. I kissed the tip and licked the lower side of his silky shaft before I took his testicles, one by one, gently into my mouth. I could feel his pulse throbbing. Loverman’s hands were streaming through my hair when he said, “Let’s get into bed.” I withdrew my tender erotic kisses while he sat down on the edge of the bed and opened up the sheets for me to climb in…


I really am lucky for the time that we get to spend together. Yesterday, just for shits and giggles, I looked back at last year to see how many of our trysts I could track. Except for two brief lapses (once when his work changed and once when my ankle broke) we have been pretty regular with a “hook up” every two weeks, or so.

For all the times that we get to be together, I still never get sick of the way he rocks my body. Sometimes it’s the same. Sometimes it’s different. Sometimes he will just throw in something completely new

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