Eight

Subject: So Darlin……

You want to know more about me? Well that’s a rather large question with a lot of years of answers. Might want to be more specific, but let’s see what I can come up with. Yeah you can say I write for a living.

Richie snorted, well he did write, composing music and lyrics was writing.

Nothing fancy about it. Any intelligent person can string words together. I make out ok doing it. How about you? What awesome type of work do you do darlin?

As to your question about how do I get into the male mindset. Well I dunno darlin, growing a set seems to be a good option, but I don’t think you can do that. Haha. Ya gotta know how to play your instrument, and a woman is an instrument to be stroked and caressed accordingly. Something about curves, just like a guitar ya know? Curves need stroking so I use that to visualize and the words come from that.

Other than that just think less emotionally, works for most men. Tend to be rather blunt logical creatures don’t we? Women are emotional, they work on feelings, and a good man knows how to read that, work with that but most guys? Hell darlin, the word is LOST in capital letters. The woman’s mind can elude the best man in the world.

So write what you would see or feel, a man just centers in that moment with no extra thoughts, well most men are like that haha. Some are better than that.

Why did he count? I’ll tell ya why. That day is all about her, counting proves she’s gonna cum and cum before he ever lets go. That’s what it’s all about baby. Giving her so much pleasure she ends up lost in it. Makes her know you’re ready to go all night if that’s what it takes to get her lost inside the bliss. That’s when ya attain heaven darlin, that’s when the vice hard clasp of walls around your cock reach insane proportions. That’s when ya know you’ve done right, played the song out to its completion, when she can’t even whimper anymore because you’ve wrung her dry, then and only then do ya let yourself cum, that’s when a real man knows he got it right.

Richie muttered, “Fuck he counts cuz I’d count darlin. I can make them cum til they’re exhausted, can’t tell ya that can I Rosary? But hell yeah its cuz I can, and cuz it shows the woman I’m ready to go all night if need be.” Shaking his head he continued typing.

Your opinion on the dating thing is quite intuitive and interesting, but it begs the question. Why do you think like that? Why would you think that’s not a normal relationship? How would you know?

His brow furrowed as he reread what he’d typed so far. Well he’d done the best he could, it was hard trying to write something that explained a man and write it from a woman’s perspective. Fuck he wasn’t a girl, never wanted to be one, just inside of one regularly. Shaking his head, he decided against changing anything. Hopefully she’d go into more detail about the dating thing. That one still had him confused.

Now, darlin, that chapter of yours is something else and I just gotta ask. Why did she respond the way she did? What made you think of the lip thing? Gotta admit I wanna know why you think that would be so exciting for him. Hell I could go on but I already had to take a shower and take care of business after reading it, and I wanna type up a response ((Hope you don’t mind darlin.))

Well I’ll close out here, but hell fuck it a couple last questions. Why do you like Bon Jovi?
And why the hell do you say girl/woman so often when talking to me?

F/W

He read over the message carefully. Well it sounded ok, he came off as a really butch girl but fuck, that would work for him. Hitting the reply button he stood and moved around the room, his mind twisting and turning over how to frame up the next chapter. As he paced he considered his options. He was in a bad wig, ok that was just wrong on a lot of levels, but they were obviously doing a bit of roleplay, and they were in a RV. What the fuck did an RV have to offer that he could use in the story?


Well they have little couches obviously, we baptized that, swivel chairs, hmm, they have small bathrooms and usually a very small bedroom. Ok the bed is workable, but dammit that’s just dull. He paced, trying to come up with something that would blow their socks off, hell he wanted to nearly hear their moans from where ever they were. His brow arched as an idea hit him and he turned to make his way to the laptop only to be interrupted by the chirping of his cellphone. Growling with frustration he nearly thought of ignoring it, but it could have been his baby girl.

Flipping open his phone, he growled out a soft, “Sambora,” only to have his ear drums pierced with a colorful rant that started out with a Jersey accent muttering, “where the fuck did you find that link?”

Richie laughed and rolled his eyes. “Well hello to you too Asshole. Let’s just say a friend sent it too me and leave it at that. I thought you’d get a laugh outta it. Can ya imagine?”

Jon lifted his phone from his ear and stared at his phone a moment. “That’s funny man, real funny. Didn’t ya date that bimbo for a time?”

Richie’s brow lifted. Fuck even Jon was calling one of them a bimbo? “Shit man, what’s with the bimbo comments? I don’t date bimbos.”

Jon’s laugh came hurtling through the phone. “Right buddy, sure you don’t.” The drawled right, the tone had Richie pacing again as he listened to his friend, probably for the first time when it came to women that is. "Gee, I don't know Dean, the fact that you've not dated anything other than blonde headed actress types in twenty years? Shit man, do you not even think? The world aint made of just tall willowy blondes with stars in their eyes, but to look at your record thats all there is." Jon snorted a moment then dug a bit deeper. "Thank god I avoided that, got myself a real woman. Hell you should try it once or twice."


“Fuck Bro, You're not the first one to say I'm typecast so to speak,” Richie muttered as he walked. “Well anyhows man, someone showed me the link and I just had to show ya. Fuck sometimes these nutcases try to start legal shit. As to the blonde chick, well she’s just trying for her next fifteen minutes of fame. We both know that.”

After a few more minutes of Jersey cursing Richie was able to end the call. Moving back to the laptop he reached for his tea, took a good sip and settled in. It was time, hell yeah it was, to make the little girls scream.