FINALLY. Thank you Ella for this - I think I am probably the last person doing this meme. It's a good one and made me think - can you smell the burn?
1. Name a tender song that can almost make you cry? I'm a crier, so tv commercials can make me weepy.Right now I'm watching GMA's coverage of Hurricane Harvey. It's showing a line of trucks from everywhere, boats in tow, people helping people - my eyes are leaking. I''m not much of a music person but the Star Spangled Banner always brings tears to my eyes - corny huh.
2. What is my favorite shade of lipstic? Nail polish? Lipstick - years ago I had a shade of stain made by Laura Hutton's company that I loved. Have never been able to replicate it. Shade of nail polish - Usually don't wear polish on my fingernails but if I do, it's usually french. Toes - anything goes - sometimes I let the pedicurist choose the color.
3.Name a children's nursery rhyme or song that I loved and remember all the words. Wow, this is tough. Can't think of anything other than Itsy Bitsy Spider.
4.What do I put on in the morning if I wanted to feel happy and well dressed and something in which I looked pretty damn good? In the summer, I have several gauzy type dresses that are my 'go to'. Since I'm retired, my closet is filled with clothes that make me happy - well dressed, that's another story.
5.If I had money to buy just one, which would it be - a cabin in the mountains or a place at the beach. No contest - a place at the beach. We've had the cabin(house) in the mountains.
6. Favorite Beatle? George Harrison - he had that hang dog look that always melts my heart.
7.Name a smell that you love. Petrichor. Not familiar with that - it's that smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather. Learned that it had a name from Han Van Meergan, a fellow blogger.
8.How often do I defuzz my legs? Wax, razor. In the winter, I ignore them. In the summer, I could defuzz every damn day - I am hairy. I don't but I could. Razor in the shower.
9. How did I choose my blog name? Aimless Rambling because that's what it is aimless rambling. Sunny Girl - well we had a little doggie - I used to tell people she was the child that didn't leave home. She brightened our lives for sixteen years - she's been gone longer than that but she was a sunny girl and I can't not think about her without smiling.
10.What do I like to eat for breakfast? Coffee or tea. Breakfast, I'm not fond of eggs, but I love pancakes or waffles even though I don't eat them often. Actually, anything in the fridge is pretty much game. Coffee, in the am with stevia, cinnamon and 1/2 and 1/2 - any other time black.
11. How many siblings do I have and what is the birth order? I have two brothers and a sister and I'm the oldest.
12. What is my favorite salad dressing? I'm not too crazy about any dressings and I usually order them on the side and then dip my fork into the cup with each bite of salad. I'd have to say that plain old EVOO and a red wine vinegar are my favorite.
13. If I could sit next to anyone on a long plane ride, who would I pick? As long as they don't have body odor and don't crowd my seat, I don't care.
14. Have I ever done any retail therapy? Believe it or not, I don't like to shop - it's a chore for me. Give me a good book or a plate of comfort food and I'm there.
15. What is the one thing that can make me lose my temper? I am not a volatile person, so losing my temper doesn't happen often. I'm slow to burn but man's inhumanity to others (animal or human) has to be the number one trigger.
16. What is the best photograph I've every had taken. I hate having my picture taken but have been told I'm photogenic, guess I don't like how I look. I think that Katie of This Whole Thing has taken the best pictures of me. Thank you, Katie.
17. Have I ever been skinny dipping and where? Yes, in our own pool, on a secluded gulf beach at dark, friend's hot tubs and so forth.
18. What do I like on my pizza? Lots of cheese, a veggie pizza with peppers, onions, olives and mushrooms are good too. I'm not fond of meat on pizza and the untraditional items don't appeal to me either, ie, ham, pineapple.
Thank you Ella. This was fun, even if it did tax my brain early this morning. See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.
Monday, August 28, 2017
Another week just flew by and I just realized that next weekend is Labor Day Weekend.
Where did the summer go?
Jenna Marx was the last of her college group of friends still single. She had been on more fix ups than you could count. Each friend’s husband had a friend and so on and so on. It put her in a difficult situation because she didn’t want to upset anyone’s feelings or ruin a friendship over a blind date. Somehow all these fellows would find someone – it just wasn’t going to be her. She must have finally drained all of their resources because she hadn’t had a request in a while.
Her 30th birthday was on the horizon and her friends invited her to lunch. They pooled their funds and bought what they thought was the perfect gift for the girl who had everything but a husband. They bought her a speed dating session.
For those of you who are unaware of this, it is an event that allows individuals to meet a myriad of partners within an allotted period of time. Each participant is allowed five minutes to get to know the other person. If so, they exchange numbers and, if not, they move on to the next contestant.
Jenna couldn’t believe they would do this, but they did. Being the good friend she was, she begrudgingly agreed to accept the gift. The next speed dating session was scheduled for the following Friday and Jenna signed up.
There were twenty contestants of each sex. The room was set up with desks and chairs on each side. The women stayed put, while the men moved on when the buzzer sounded the end of their five-minute time allotment. After meeting her first three men, Jenna understood why these men were here. Like her blind dates, they were all misfits for her as far as she was concerned. When the fourth guy sat down, Jenna was mildly interested. Outward appearances gave her the impression this was a man who might get her number. He was well-spoken and mannerly and when the buzzer sounded she gave him her card.
The next two men were unacceptable to her and she’d had enough. She’d been through half of the twenty men and only one peaked her interest. Not one to waste time, she faked an urgent phone call and left the building. She was at the revolving door when she heard her name called. Turning, it was contestant number 4.
“Yes, I am.”
“Isn’t that rude – after all you made a commitment?”
“Maybe so,” she replied and entered the revolving door. ‘There goes the only interesting possibility, I’m sure he’ll never call.’
Jenna was correct – he never did call but then Kismet wasn’t done with her.
Several weeks later, she and her associates were gathered in the conference room to meet with a potential new client. Much to her surprise, contestant #4 was the client. Their eyes met and recognition set in. Introductions ensued and when it came Jenna’s turn, he smiled and said that he and Ms. Marx had already met. All eyes turned to her, but neither of them elaborated and the meeting commenced. The presentation went well enough to make changes and scheduled another meeting.
‘Will you be sticking around, Ms. Marx?’
Flummoxed at being singled out, she assured him that she and her team would be available to him. As the meeting ended and all were filing out of the conference room, he detained her.
“May I have a moment of your time, Ms. Marx?”
Her associates looked at her quizzically but continued emptying the room until it was just the two of them.
“Does my presence make you uncomfortable, Ms. Marx?
“No, not at all. I was a little surprised at first to see you considering the circumstances of our last meeting.”
“and why is that Ms. Marx?”
“You’re the head of a rather large company and participating in a speed dating service doesn’t seem to fit the picture.”
“Yet, you did it. Couldn’t the same be said for you?”
“It was a gift from friends, I couldn’t very well turn it down.”
“Yet, you did in a way, didn’t you? You never stuck around to see it through to the end. Is that a habit?”
Jenna wasn’t sure how to handle this situation. If it wasn’t for him being a client, she would have told him to get lost, but circumstances being what they were, she had to respond in a more professional manner.
“No, it isn’t a habit. Perhaps I should ask if my being on this team is making you uncomfortable with choosing our company to run your campaign?”
She detected a small smile. “No, Ms. Marx. I have no doubt about the capabilities of not only yourself but your associates too. I think working together will be mutually beneficial. I was just curious – you don’t seem the type of girl that would seek male companionship in that type of setting.”
“and why wouldn’t I?”
“You seem a little too snobbish and opinionated. Not the type of girl who would be open to an experience of that sort.”
“I could say the same of you – not the snobbish or opinionated part.”
He smiled a little at the last part. “I’ll tell you my reason. I’m new to the area and my job takes so much of my time that I haven’t had the opportunity to meet anyone outside of work. I have no friends or family and it seemed a good way to meet people that are looking for the same thing. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes, it does. Now, I have to get back to work. Nice meeting you again and I look forward to working with you.”
She walked him to the elevator and shook hands. He watched her walk away and that sway in her backside fascinated him. ‘Was that for his benefit?’ he wondered. ‘Maybe when this project is complete…’
The project took six months to complete and in all that time, never once did Jenna interact with #4. About two weeks later, there was a message on her phone.
‘Care to have dinner with me sometime?’ No hello, goodbye or anything but that simple statement. The man intrigued her. She texted back and asked for details.
She received the same no nonsense reply. Saturday night, pick you up at 6:00. Need address
‘Was this guy for real?’ She had to follow through. Since the first meeting with John J. Mc Intyre, she was intrigued. Was he always so cryptic and no nonsense? If so, did he have a soft underbelly, she would soon find the answers.
John J McIntyre picked her up dressed in khaki’s, a blue button down shirt, and loafers with no sock. As if that wasn’t surprise enough, he drove a late model red Corvette convertible.
“You are a surprise.” she told him as she climbed into the car.
“You seem so button down and corporate, a man of few words and here you are in a flashy car and not buttoned down at all.”
“Impressions can be misleading."
When he pulled into the joint – and that is the only word she could think of that fit, she was a little apprehensive. It looked as if the building could collapse at any moment, the décor was early junkyard with all sorts of mismatched tables and chairs, the wooden planked floor had had indentations of thousands of feet. She doubted this place would ever receive any Micehelin five-star rating or any rating at all, for that matter. She only hoped she would escape without food poisoning. Was she ever surprised. The shrimp, was plump and moist, the salad crisp, the potatoes browned beautifully and the steak to die for.
“This place is amazing, how did you ever find it? I’ve never even been in this part of town and I’ve lived here all my life?”
“Not surprised, I’m sure it’s a little out of your comfort zone.”
“You really do think I’m a snob, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do, but I think I can change your mind about things. With the right incentive, you might become a full-fledged down to earth person that doesn’t always judge a book by its cover.”
“Why do I get the feeling we’re going back to the speed dating thing?”
“Not at all. I simply wanted to point out that things are not always as they seem. For instance, you may think I came from a background similar to yours. You couldn’t be further from the truth. My beginnings were very humble and my folks still live on and run the family farm, eking out a living. What my siblings and I have we earned by hard work.”
“I’m sure you have and good for you. On the same hand, I am not going to apologize because I had a better life than you.”
“I never said anything about a better life. My life is wonderful, I have two loving parents, siblings on whom I can rely, food on the table and a place to lay my head, I’m grateful for my upbringing. It taught me the value of hard work and that there are good people in all walks of life, rich or poor. It taught me that you don’t look down on those less fortunate than you whether it be in manners, brains, money or anything else. It taught me to be grateful for what I have and appreciate but for the grace of God, I could be in their shoes.”
After that soliloquy, Jenna didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go on.”
“No, that’s fine. I applaud you and maybe you can teach me to be a little more accepting about certain things.”
“I’m sure I could, but I’m not sure you would like the way I teach.”
“and how’s that?”
“It’s the way I was taught. By example or failing that, the feel of a wooden spoon or belt on my bare behind.”
“Really.” Her eyes widened.
“Really. There is nothing that makes you learn faster than the threat of that sting and the humiliation of having your bottom bared to receive the spanking.”
“I’ve never experienced that.”
“I don’t doubt that for one minute but I’ll be glad to show you.”
He grinned and Jenna wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. ‘Maybe someday, she’d let him and learn the answer. Until then, she would take it one day at a time. One thing she knew though, JJ McIntyre was an intriguing man.'
One day this week, I'm going to do Ella's meme, it's been on my agenda for weeks. Until then see you later for more Aimless Ramblings.
Monday, August 21, 2017
Another week has slipped by without me realizing it was gone. I seem to constantly chase my tail. It's amazing to me how I used to get things done when I worked. It's definitely true that you will up the time you have - kinda like a big purse.
Tomorrow's the day of the eclipse - it's all we've been hearing for the past week. Well, that and the antics of 45 - talk about someone needing spanked. Anyway, I'm not sure how many of you will be watching and how much you'll get to see, but it's pretty spectacular. I remember one from years ago and it wasn't even total - not that I'll get to see the whole thing from here. Be sure to use those glasses though - want you to be able to read my story. Get those glasses ready - that or the box with a pin hole. Remember that? Ray bought me glasses, so I'm set.
Here's this week's story. I wouldn't mind taking a twenty-one-day cruise. I think Ray might jump overboard after fourteen days - he's done ten though.
Ginger LeBlanc had a fabulous job as the assistant to a high-powered executive. She was present in his life for all occasions and in all places. It’s not at all what you think. Their relationship was strictly professional and Blake Winston’s wife was fully onboard with Ginger. They worked in complete partnership to ensure that Blake Winston was able to maintain a balance between home and work.
When Blake’s wife convinced him to take a twenty-one-day cruise to de-stress, it was only with the proviso that Ginger also come along. He would cut back on his daily activities but he needed at least an hour or so a day to keep abreast of his work. Ginger was well versed in the machinations of the company and was the recipient of any communication that came to Blake. With her on the cruise, it was easy for Blake to relax because he knew that Ginger was more than capable of deciding if anything might need his attention and with very little input, handle the situation.
So it was, that Ginger LeBlanc was experiencing the cruise of a lifetime, all expenses paid. Sure she was on call but the rest of the time was hers to enjoy. On the very first day of the cruise, she was on the Lido Deck enjoying the ocean breezes when a man sat in the chair next to her. Cruises are friendly places and it wasn’t long before they were chatting like long lost friends. Ginger introduced him to Blake and his wife. They got along famously and spent much of their time as a foursome, sitting at the same dinner table, taking tours together, shopping and on and on.
The relationship between the four of them was so open and easy and one day during the last week of the cruise, she realized that she might be in love with Greg Townsend. Could it be he felt the same? Was it was merely a shipboard romance and once they docked, they would go their separate ways and never see each other again? Deciding not to let her worries cloud the last days of the trip, she embraced her good fortune and put all thoughts out of her head and enjoyed the remaining time with Greg.
At dinner, on the last night of the cruise, they talked about what a wonderful time they had together and how tomorrow would bring the real world into focus.
“So Greg, what is awaiting you on docking tomorrow?”
“That depends,” he replied.
“Okay, I’m falling for it, depends on what,” Blake asked.
“Depends on Ginger.” Ginger dropped her fork and looked at Greg. Four eyes turned to Ginger. The look on her face told them she had no idea what Greg meant. They didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Actually, Blake’s wife, Catherine had a smile on her face before Greg spoke up.
“Ginger, I have had such a wonderful time with you and your friends. It’s been something I’ve missed and I don’t want to give it up. I realize this is quick and shipboard romances usually run their course, but I want this shipboard romance to continue long after we disembark tomorrow. What say, you give us a chance to make a go of it on land?”
Ginger was flummoxed but Blake and Catherine were all smiles. “Greg, I’d love it but how would it work, we live so far apart.”
“Ginger, I didn’t plan on announcing my plans in front of an audience. It just happened. Sure there are details but I think we could work out any problems.”
Ginger looked to Blake and Catherine and they were both nodding their heads in assent. The Winston’s took their leave saying that the couple had some details to work out and they’d leave them some privacy.
Ginger knew that Greg Townsend lived in South Africa. He was a widower and had taken the cruise on a lark when his former in-laws took his daughter for the summer. His daughter was going on twelve and according to Greg was filled with raging hormones that he didn’t know how to handle. He was only too happy to get some space between them and had three weeks before he had to return home to resume parenting.
His plan was to stay in Manchester to see if their shipboard romance could flourish on land. Ginger explained that although she’d have to work she would reserve her evenings and weekends for him.
The weeks flew by and with each day their feelings for each other strengthened. They had their battles, Greg learning that Ginger was not always acquiescent and he saw in her some of the traits he saw in his daughter. His wife had been the soul of submission but Rowena had inherited his stubborn streak. He witnessed that Ginger had that same streak and wondered how it would work between the two of them.
They were both aware the three weeks were almost up and it took a toll on them. Both were a little snarly Greg handled it the only way he knew how. He threatened Ginger that unless she changed her mood, things wouldn’t end on a good note.
“I don’t know what you think you’ll accomplish by threatening me, but I’m quite sure it’s not what you expect.”
“That may be so, but keep it up and you’ll see. They are not idle threats. I only take so much before I lash out.”
“Greg, I don’t want our last days to be fraught with anger, let’s talk about things. I hate that you have to leave.”
“I hate it too. I have a solution.” With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box. “Be my wife Ginger, and we can leave together and live happily ever after.”
“I love you, Greg. I love that you just asked me to be your wife, but it’s not as simple as that. I don’t think I’m ready to give up my life here and move to a strange country. That’s not the only consideration either. Think of Rowena, how would she react to her father bringing home a woman to live in his house and share her father’s affection? As much as I’d like to, I just can’t give you an answer right now.
They left the matter unsettled.
Ginger was bereft that day Greg left. She was so teary eyed Greg suggested she not accompany him to the airport, but she was determined. “Let’s just say our goodbye’s here. It won’t seem so drastic.” He told her.
“No, I’m going.”
‘Baby, I’d rather leave you here instead of waving goodbye at the curb. Now be a good girl and kiss me goodbye. The car is waiting.”
“Am I going to have to spank you to make you listen?”
“What, spank me. Is that what you said?”
“That’s exactly what I said.”
“Go to hell Mr. Townsend. I wouldn’t travel to the bus stop with you now. Go get on that plane and I don’t care if I ever speak with you again.”
“Does that mean you’re not coming over in November?”
“Go, get out. I don’t want to look at you.”
“Ginger, you know you don't mean that now be a good girl and give me a good bye kiss.”
“Never,” and she pushed him out the door, closed and locked it behind her. The nerve of him. She could tell he was still standing by the door, but she refused to give in. Finally, she heard him say I love you and heard his footsteps as he walked away. She ran to the window to watch him leave and then ran into her bedroom and cried her eyes out.
She cried the remainder of the day and finally so exhausted she fell asleep.
She went to work the next day and sitting on her desk was a vase filled with twenty-four red roses and card that read “Are you sorry you didn’t kiss me good bye? I am, Love.”
The tears started all over again and when Blake arrived he immediately wanted to send her home. Knowing she would only be worse at home, she told him she would pull herself together to just give her a few moments.
“Okay, but as my parents used to say, if you don’t stop crying, I’ll give you something to cry about. Those words always preceded a spanking and while I would never do that, I might suggest that to Greg when next I see him.” That only caused her tears to intensify. He ushered her into his office and called Catherine for help.
Catherine took Ginger to lunch. Ginger was finally able to stop sobbing and told Catherine the whole story of how he proposed, how she told him her feelings and then of yesterday at the door.
“I’m quite sure that Greg won’t hold that against you. He loves you.”
“Yes, but he threatened to spank me. I’m a grown woman.”
“Yes, a grown woman who was acting like a spoiled child.”
“I suppose you’re right but what can I do about it now?”
“Call and apologize.”
“You think he will take my call.”
“After seeing two dozen roses on your desk, yes I think he will take your call.”
He took that call. They skyped daily after that and Ginger arranged to take some time off from work and visit him in South Africa. He met her at the plane in Johannesburg and before driving to his home to meet Rowena, they stopped at a hotel.
Ginger was surprised and questioned him about it. “We have some unfinished business I want to settle before we go any further.”
Ginger wasn’t sure what Greg was referring to but she soon found out. He registered them and held her hand as he escorted her to a room filled with roses of every color. He hugged and kissed her passionately. “I’ve missed you so, Ginger, I love you but I think you should know that what I’m about to do is something I will do again and again if you misbehave. It’s what I do and what you can expect in the future. If this isn’t what you want, I’ll take you back to the airport and we’ll go our separate ways. I don’t want to upset Rowena by bringing you into our lives if you’re not going to stay.” With that he pulled her over to the chair and placed her over his knee, her head and legs dangling off the floor. That’s when it dawned on her what was about to happen and she wasn’t very accepting. She began spewing expletives to and about him and raising her legs to kick him. He managed to anchor her legs between his, and before reaching to hold her hands, flipped up her dress. Since she was wearing a thong, he didn’t have to remove her panties. Her two white globes were there waiting – waiting for him to paint them a nice rosy red. He raised his knee slightly to have better access to his target. Her wails of protest reverberated around the room as his hand walloped her bare bottom. He admired her spunk because she fought against him as best she could, her mouth never stopping cursing him to the high heavens. She squirmed around and he held on tighter and spanked harder. He was exhausted and wondered how much longer she would carry on when he realized she was silent and he felt her beginning to sob. He gave her four final slaps, two on each thigh and two on her now glowing bottom before he stopped.
Not sure of what to expect from her, he let her up cautiously and took her on his lap, carefully avoiding letting her tender bottom rest on his thighs. He held her close and was surprised when she nuzzled herself into his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. Her body shook with sobs and he gently kissed her head and rubbed her back. She nestled there for several minutes before he asked if she was okay.
“I’m not sure. What happens now?”
“That’s is entirely up to you, Ginger. “
“Kiss me, Greg and tell me again that you love me.”
“ I love you Ginger Le Blanc and want you to be my wife.” While he was kissing her, she decided that getting her bottom spanked every now and then wasn’t such a horrible thing – she could live with it.
When he broke the kiss, she looked at him. “When do I get to meet Rowena?”
See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.
Monday, August 14, 2017
Happy Monday - it's been one exciting week news wise, hasn't it? 45 sure keeps the news cycle hopping, doesn't he, whether it's things he tweets and things he doesn't. I'm not getting political here, just stating facts.
This is a cute little story, that popped into my head while watching the talking heads yesterday morning. People get riled up about all sorts of issues and the dismantling of a girl's soccer team is so much better than the rhetoric that is being flung across the oceans by two men who should know better.
Spotlight on the News
Casey was a news junkie and loved her job as an op ed writer on her local paper. It might not be the Chicago Tribune or the New York Times, but The Gazette reached the homes of everyone in her county and she got to use the ‘bully pulpit’ to express her opinions. She was an opinionated woman – her family and friends were used to Casey vocalizing her opinions, whether asked for or not. When she took hold of an issue, she was like a dog with a bone and when the local school board wanted to do away with the girl’s soccer program, she was up in arms and the fight was on. Not only were school board meetings riotous affairs, but her family life was in turmoil too.
John knew his wife and for the most part supported her and her opinions. It didn’t always make him the most popular member of the community but allowed Casey her head. Until now.
John was the chairman of the local school board and thus seconded the motion that the girl’s soccer team be disbanded. It wasn’t a hard decision. The program was not supporting itself, never had and it was becoming a financial drain on the other sports programs. Participation was at an all-time low and it seemed the wisest decision.
Casey didn’t agree. She based her opinion on feminism, not on reality. To her, it didn’t matter they barely had enough participants to field a team, to her it was why not cut one of the male programs – i.e., the boy’s track team that was having many of the same problems as the girl’s soccer team. The difference was that the boy’s soccer had a major sponsor that absorbed the financial loss. All efforts to attract a major sponsor for the girl’s soccer team failed.
The situation created a great deal of discord at home. When Casey wrote a blistering op-ed piece in the paper that was picked up and spread across the state, it brought recognition to Middleton, along with the accompany frenzy that anything like this did. The whole town was disrupted and John and Casey, being on opposing sides of this decision, were the focus of the frenzy.
Casey was getting kudos from not only her publisher because the paper had increased its subscription rate, but by the mothers of the players and other groups across the state that found themselves in the same situations. Girl’s sports programs were just not considered important enough to fund with the limited budgets that were being offered. Unfortunately for John, he was getting flack from all sides – not only his employer, but from the town council as well, wondering why he couldn’t control his own wife. He asked Casey if she could tamp down the rhetoric and accept the decision to disband the girl’s soccer team.
She was vehement and fueled with the support she was receiving from outside sources, continued her columns and even began taking speaking engagements offered by Rotary and Kiwanis clubs in the neighboring towns.
John, not being able to take any more, offered Casey a choice – either back down or he would have to take action. He tried reasoning with Casey, explaining that even if he backed down and called for another vote and abstained, the program would still be disbanded.
“You do what you have to do, John and I will do the same.”
Several days later, John came home to a house full of people with pads and cameras. He’d had an awful day at work and he wanted to sit back, relax and forget about the chaos that had been surrounding them for far too long. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen. He lost his cool and began telling them to leave. Casey objected, telling him they were almost finished.
“They’re finished now Casey, and I want them out of the house,” and he stood at the door until the last one was ushered out.
“That was embarrassing.”
“Not nearly as embarrassing as it would be if they’d stayed.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m doing something I should have done a while back. I want our lives to get back to normal and all this hoopla seems to be increasing instead of decreasing. I’ve spoken my piece and it hasn’t mattered. So I’m going to use a tried and true method when words fail. “
“John, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then let me explain, without words.” He pulled her over to the couch and turned her over his knee. He flipped up her dress and began to pummel her bottom with as much force as he could muster. The aggravations of the last couple of months were being taken out on Casey’s backside. No matter how much she squirmed and carried on, John was determined to end this once and for all. He managed to wedge her undies up so that her bare arse was feeling the full force of his hand. Casey finally stopped raising a fuss and accepted what was happening, and still, the spanks didn’t stop. It wasn’t until John didn't think his hand could deliver another spank – his hand was burning and almost as red as Casey’s bottom.
“There, I’m finished. I’ve had my say. Our life gets back to normal now and I don’t want to hear or read another word about the girl’s soccer team. Do you understand?”
She shook her head yes. She had to admit John and her family had put up with a lot over the last couple of weeks. She’d had her fifteen minutes of fame, or so she thought.
The following day, there on the front page of her very own paper, was a picture of her across John’s lap getting her bottom spanked. The picture was courtesy of an AP photographer who had been ushered out of the house the preceding afternoon. The caption read “Taking One For the Team.”
If only the world problems could be solved this easily. See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.
Friday, August 11, 2017
Monday, August 7, 2017
Here we are - first week of August and the summer heat is on. Had a wonderful anniversary weekend. Ray is a real romantic, much more so than I and I'll leave it at that.
Not the best story, but it's new and you can all fill in the blanks if you're not happy. It's hard to make them all a little different when we all know the outcome, right. I try.
Billie Jean Mowry was named after Billie Jean King. In case you don’t know about Billie Jean King, she was and maybe still is, a tennis player who took on Bobby Riggs, another tennis player, in a match that was supposed to decide whether women were capable of beating men in competitive play. The match took place sometime in the 70’s and when Billie Jean was born her mother bestowed the name on her. She wanted to implant in Billie Jean that women were strong, independent and didn’t need a man. Her mother was a feminist, her father a man who didn’t have strong opinions about anything and was, therefore, not a man in the eyes of her mother.
It was not easy growing up in that household. Billie Jean adored her father and often wished he would take a stand against her mother. In her teenage years, she questioned her father about it and he responded that it wasn’t important to him, but it was important to my mother. She never questioned it again. Her father went about his life, loving her and her mother, supporting them until his death at too early an age.
Regardless of what her dad told Billie Jean, she believed his early demise was because he didn’t like his life. What she gleaned from living in that household, was what she did and didn’t want as a woman and as an adult. Just as her mother hoped, Billie Jean grew into a strong, independent woman but her ideas about men were different. She dated men who were like her, strong, independent and more often than not way too domineering to suit her tastes. She didn’t need someone bossing her around and telling her what she could and couldn’t do. But neither did she date men who seemed to be more like her father. If she could browbeat a man, she wasn’t interested.
Along came Mitch Monroe. His name alone bothered Billie Jean for some reason. What kind of name was Mitch – there seemed to be no strength in it. Nonetheless, as they worked together and she got to know him better, her opinion changed somewhat. When he invited her to dinner, she balked but told him the reason was she didn’t date among her co-workers. He accepted her stance and didn’t ask again.
That is until he left the company. Then he called and invited her again. Billie Jean accepted even though a tiny wiggle in her brain wondered if the reason he left Bixby & Hall was because of her turndown.
When the day arrived, she liked that he had chosen the restaurant, yet still asked if it met with her approval. Deciding not to test the waters, she agreed and they had a nice time. On the way home, Billie Jean’s curiosity got the better of her and asked if the reason he left Bixby & Hall was because of her turning down his dinner invitation.
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“It’s something that crossed my mind because you left shortly afterward.”
“Wow. I knew you were full of yourself, but I never realized just how much that was true.”
“I’m not full of myself. I’m just a strong and independent woman.”
“Yes, I agree with that and they are admirable qualities in both men and women. But you, Billie Jean, are a little too cocky and I have a feeling you need someone to take you down a peg or two.”
“Then, why did you even bother to ask me out.”
“Because I think I might be the one to do just that.”
“Why you arrogant prick. Here I thought you were a gentleman.”
“I’m very much a gentleman. Haven’t I treated you as such?”
“Yes, you have.”
“and I will continue to do so. However, make no mistake that if you cross over to the ‘dark side’ as I’ve seen you do, I will take take matters into my own hand, so to speak.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t cross over and you will never have to know the answer to that question.”
“Well, I’ll never know the answer to that question because when this date is over, so is this relationship. Take me home and don’t call again.”
He listened to her and did just as she asked. When he walked her to the door, he bent over and she thought he was going to kiss her. She pulled away. “Don’t you even dare to try to kiss me, you arrogant prick.”
He pulled close to her again. “Don’t you ever call me that again.” He warned
“No worries.” She told him and as she opened her door she heard him call out “chicken”.
Mitch Monroe chuckled to himself as he walked down the path to his car. Somehow he knew that he would hear from her again – it may take a while, but he’d hear. He was a patient man.
Billie Jean Mowery couldn’t believe the arrogance of the man with whom she shared dinner. He was such a pleasant companion until that last remark. ‘ Who the hell did he think he was telling her she was full of herself. She had self-confidence sure, but she didn’t think she was overbearing. Just because she seemed to have the best ideas among her friends and cohorts didn’t make her bossy, did it? ’
Over the next couple of weeks, Billie Jean took note of her behavior in work related meetings and social occasions. She had to admit to herself that she always seemed to take charge, but that didn’t mean she was overbearing. Billie Jean decided that Mitch Monroe was wrong and she was going to prove it to him when he called.
The thing was, he didn’t call. Two months had gone by and Billie Jean hadn’t heard a word from him. It bugged her until she took matters into her own hands. She knew he worked out at a gym on Colfax Avenue and she would happen to accidently bump into him. Sure enough, after scouting out the perfect place for the ‘accidental meeting’, she bumped into him. After sharing hellos and small talk, she invited him to dinner.
“I’m sorry, Billie Jean. I’d love to but I have other plans this evening.”
“What other plans?”
“I really don’t see how that is any of your business.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. How about another night?”
“Sure, I’ll call you.”
“When will you call?”
“After I’ve checked my calendar. I have to be going now. Glad we bumped into each other.” And off he went down the street, leaving Billie Jean standing there stupefied.
Mitch walked off with a smile. He didn’t have plans but he was going to give Ms. High and Mighty a lesson in humility. He didn’t plan on calling right away. If he was right, his phone would ring before he got around to making a date with Billie Jean.
Sure enough, about two weeks later he received a call at his office. He wasn’t in but she left a message to call. The following day he returned the call.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get back to you sooner, Billie Jean. What can I do for you?”
“You said you were going to call after you checked your calendar. Have you checked it yet?”
He heard the snippy tone in her voice. “I’m sorry I must have forgotten to get back to you,”
he told her . He hoped the smirk on his face didn’t come through in his tone.
Based on her tone and response, he was sure it hadn’t. “I’m here now, so when would you like to go to dinner. It will be my treat.”
“How about next Tuesday?” he asked.
“I was thinking more of the weekend.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t have any time this weekend. “
“Are you seeing someone else? “ she asked.
“Billie Jean, I’m free on Tuesday. Would you like to have dinner then?” She huffed.
“Yes,” she snarkily replied. “What time will you pick me up?”
“I have a meeting late that afternoon, how about we meet at La Cuchina? I’ll call you when I’m on my way but it should be around 6:30. Is that okay with you?”
“See you Tuesday then,” and Mitch clicked off the phone.
Mitch had no doubt that Billie Jean would not be in the best of moods for their dinner date. He hoped he was right.
On Tuesday, he called to let her know he’d be there at 6:30 and that he’d made a reservation. On purpose, he arrived ten minutes late and from the look on Billie’s face, he knew she was angry.
“Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t plan to keep you waiting but I had trouble getting a cab.”
“A likely story, tried and true, correct.”
He ignored the snide remark. “Have you ordered anything yet?”'
“Yes, but the service is very slow here. It’s not one of my favorite restaurants.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve always had good service here and the food is terrific but if you’d like to go someplace else, we can.”
The server arrived then with Billie’s drink. He was surprised to see Mitch and greeted him warmly. “I didn’t realize you would be joining the miss. Can I bring your usual?”
Moments later, Mitch’s drink arrived along with the basket of bread and olive tray.
“I guess it pays to know the server.” Billie Jean remarked.
“Yes, I guess it does. I do remember though from my waiter days in college, if the patron was snarky, I would purposely take my time in responding to their requests.”
“Are you insinuating I was, what was your word, snarky, to the waiter.”
“I was just telling you of my experience. So tell me what have you been up to since I last saw you.”
After that, they had a nice evening until she asked for the bill and was told it had been taken paid.
“I told you it would be my treat.”
“Yes, you did. But then I picked the restaurant and ended up making you wait.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“You’re welcome, I think.” Billie Jean laughed. “I think this is a game to you.”
“And if it is.”
“I think I might like to find out who wins at the end.”
“Did it occur to you we might both win?”
“Never.” She replied.
“Do you want to play or not.”
“Oh, I want to play. I enjoy a challenge.”
So Billie Jean and Mitch danced the dance. They both won a few skirmishes but no one won the war. A truce was called. Mitch taught Billie Jean that you could still be strong and independent without being overbearing. He taught by example and Billie Jean learned just how far she could push Mitch before he took things in hand. That hand was applied to her bottom pretty regularly when she didn't take heed. Each time she threatened to leave him – but she never did - even when he spanked her right in front of her strong independent mother.
“I wish your father had done that to me,” her mother told her afterward.
“I wish he had too.” Billie Jean replied.
And that's that. See you later for more Aimless Ramblngs.