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« Tech-Babe and Blair | Main | Like a Virgin »
Wednesday
Jan302008

Last Night with Blair

Schizophrenia, from the Greek roots schizein (σχίζειν, "to split") and phrēn, phren- (φρήν, φρεν-,index_r1_c1.gif "mind"), is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental illness characterized by impairments in the perception or expression of reality, most commonly manifesting as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions or disorganized speech and thinking in the context of significant social or occupational dysfunction.

Psychosis is a generic psychiatric term for a mental state often described as involving a "loss of contact with reality." Stedman's Medical Dictionary defines psychosis as "a severe mental disorder, with or without organic damage, characterized by derangement of personality and loss of contact with reality and causing deterioration of normal social functioning."[1

Puddle of Mudd combines the two words "Schizophrenic psycho" in their song "Psycho". Is this somewhat redundant? Not if they're referring someone like Blair. You can never overemphasize the paranoid, delusional state of a mad woman like Blair.

I went over to her place last night because her husband planned on working late at the office, which is all the way across town. Whenever he has to pull a late-nighter, Blair invites me over to give her a back massage. She does not invite me over to have sex, even though that's exactly what happens every time. As long as she believes I'm just coming over to give her a back massage, she does not feel guilty about inviting me over. This is how she deludes herself into fucking someone other than her husband.

I support her delusion by pretending to come over just to give her a back massage, even though I know exactly what's going to happen. This is one of the reasons sex with Blair is so explosive. It's like I'm seducing her for the first time every time we have sex. It's like The Notebook without all that mushy shit and old age. It's like 50 First Dates with out the "date" part.

But this is not a game we play. She has convinced herself that we will not have sex if I come over. You see what I'm getting at here? You have to be a certified mental case to convince yourself of that bullshit.

Fucked up, huh? But I'm telling you, the sex is incredible.

I start out massaging her back with her shirt still on her body. After a few minutes, I move the shirt up a little to give her a deeper rub in the small of her back. She may pull the shirt down the first time I try this, but moments later, I have her shirt up again. And she starts throwing out a moan or two. 

Pretty soon I'm recommending lotion. She'll have to take her shirt off and undo her bra for that treatment. She thinks about it for a moment, then agrees. She's had a very stressful week.

Once I have her shirt off and her back is all oiled up, my hands starts moving down her lower back to her ass. She's typically wearing sweats with an elastic waist, so it's easy to slide my hands down further and further with every rub. By the time I have her ass in my hands, it's all over. We're both so hot and bothered, we tear each other apart for the next hour or so. 

After we've had sex, she feels very guilty. Moments before she was talking to me like Candi Kans talks to Nick Zima on camera in McKinney's 3D porn film Corporate Americunt, and now she's wringing her hands with guilt and shame like a Catholic schoolgirl (and not the good kind).

If she asked me to leave right away, I wouldn't give a shit. But she makes me stick around and discuss the situation and how we're going to stop seeing each other. It's the same conversation every time. I'm usually able to withstand it because I'm still basking from the amazing sex, but God it's annoying.

The other reason we have explosive sex is because of love/hate relationship we have. She is the most jealous person I have ever met. She pretends to believe that I am sleeping with everyone else in the office and therefore questions my every move. I am sleeping with everyone else in the office, but she does not really believe that. I know this because if she really did believe that I were sleeping with everyone else in the office, she would never sleep with me.

Blair sleeps with me because she believes I am not sleeping with anyone else in the office. She pretends to believe I am sleeping with everyone else in the office because she wants me to know how painful she would make it for me if I did ever sleep with anyone else in the office. She thinks if she punishes me now for something I haven't done, I won't do it the future. 

And while it seems unfair that she punishes me for something she doesn't believe I've done, it actually is fair because most likely I have done what she pretends to believe I've done, even though she really doesn't believe I did it. Make sense? It's not supposed to. She's fucking crazy.

The point is, once she gets over it, we have incredible make up sex. That's how we end up in trees at the park.

Blair is definitely a schizophrenic psycho. And while I probably understand her best, she's still a lunatic. And yet, I'm still obsessed with her. Certainly sex is only one reason I'm obsessed with her. There are other reasons, believe it or not. I'll get into those reasons at a later time. I don't want to scare myself by talking about them right now. I'm scared enough as it is...  

Reader Comments (1)

"Corporate Americunt..." fucking classic! hahaha...

January 30, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterTech Babe

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