The Friday Sex Blog [Bootie Calls]

Hola Everybody...
Yaaaay! It’ Friday and I feel sick. I need some compassionate woman to come lay next to me, service me sexually, take turns sleeping on the wet spot, read with me, and watch Film Noir movies all weekend. All applications will be considered.

Hey! I wanna “superman” somebody! I’ve never done that before!

I have some pics donated by two lovely ladies, but I haven’t had the time to “fix” them so I could post them. One requested anonymity, so you all will have to wait! There’s an interesting back-story to today’s blog photo: it was taken by yours truly and then one day, unexpectedly, it was sent to me via snail mail. As in, remember this, you scheming ma’fucca? LOL

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-=[ Bootie Call! ]=-

It was two o’clock in the morning and she was saying no. and I knew it was that kind of no: final, punto y final! As in, “No Eddie, you can’t come here it’s too late, you should’ve came when you said you were coming to hours ago. But noooo, you wanted to get fucked up and hang out with your friends. Well, fuck one of them now, because you ain’t fuckin’ me tonight!”

Okay, sure: I was drunk and blasted out of my head with a list of drugs as long as your arm, but even in my condition I saw a hint of possibility in that response. She was angry and that meant she still cared and furthermore (and more importantly) the possibility of angry, raw sex just increased ten-fold. I felt my cock stir at the potential in the moment. If only I could say the right words, all I needed was a foot in the door. Just then a car passes by and popular song of the time No me Digas Ques es Muy Tarde (“Don’t Tell Me It’s Too Late”) is blasting away… I see my opportunity and go for the jugular. “You hear that chulita? You hear that song?!!... ” LOL!

I was notorious for drunken bootie calls. Sometimes I would manage to make a complete idiot of myself and I would kick myself in the morning, embarrassed at what I had said. Sometimes, as in the example above, I would get lucky. I felt bad when I finally made to her apartment. She was pissed, threw a book at me and when I saw the cold dinner and candles that had fizzled long ago, I felt like an asshole. And I really wasn’t an asshole. I was just sexually motivated and in my 20s. I was fuckin’ (yes fuckin’) everything in sight.

Back then there was only one way to make a booty call and that was via a landline. There was no personal computer, no cellphones if you could believe that. But there’s nothing like an old-fashioned lusty, middle-of-the-night “I wanna fuck you, baby!” phone call! LOL!

I was thinking about this other day while talking to the author of the following email:

Now, there are several things funny about the above email. For one notice my response. You would think Mr. Eloquent, Eddie the Poet/ philosopher-king would have written something more than just his telephone number! LMAOOO! Quick and to the point: “Eddie, I’m lusting for you…” response? Telephone number, no poetry, no articulate moist-inducing, panty-wetting words, just my number! LOL! (yes, the number is blurred on purpose!).

That email was followed buy a “modified” ::grin:: bootie call and luckily for the lady (or me), she lives in another state (no, I’m not disclosing who she is – that’s up to her, this ain’t Mo-skip’s blog). Otherwise, I would’ve tried my best to make her ovaries sore! LMAO! Sweetie, I promise you, I want you just as bad and in many ways. I guess the good thing about a bootie call is that it has some element of truth to it, right? Stuff you wouldn’t say otherwise, just slips out of your mouth.

Today, advances in technology have added many options I never had when I drugged and drank. For example, you can send a drunken text message complete with a sexy (or pornographic) jpeg attachment! And guys? Please stop sending pics of your cock. That shit, according to the many women I have spoken to, is old. Unless a woman has specifically states she wants to see your, ummm, shortcomings, believe me, it’s not a wise move.

So yeah, we have emails, text messaging, cellphones, voicemails – oh man! Voicemails! One particularly beautiful young lady on 360 left me a drunken VM at 2 AM (“Wake yo muthafuckin ass up…”). You could hear the bar noise in the background. Too funny! I was trying to see if I could transfer it to my computer for today’s blog, but I wasn’t able to. Hunny, you can call me anytime when you’re horny! LOL!

I just want to say that the email totally flattered me and I was happy to hear the person felt that way (even if she was tipsy when she wrote it. LOL

Erotic communication has changed over the years, offering us many more ways in which to embarrass ourselves ::grin::

Have you ever sent a bootie call? Ever received one? LOL!

Love,

Eddie

PS: Sex is good for you!