Dear Reader

The Emotional Journal is mostly a collection of fictional journal entries by the characters of Telly Serone. These entries may contain adult language, sexual innuendo, erotic themes, and downright sexual content. Therefore, this site is intended for adults age 18 and over.

You can simply scroll down the page to read entries to The Emotional Journal, starting with the most recent. You can find specific entries under "Recent Journal Entries" on the right side of the screen. Entries are also grouped by "label" just below "Recent Journal Entries." Be sure to leave a comment about The Emotional Journal. Various characters will post several entries. Catch a glimpse into their thoughts and lives, and follow them through new experiences.

Sunday, April 1, 2007

sharon g. (part 2)

be sure to check out journal entry
sharon g. (part 1)

dear ej,

I'm a big basket of emotions right now! As a matter of fact, you can add fear and embarrassment to the mix. I know I'm not getting any sleep tonight. Not after what happened.

Ok, so picking up where I left off last time, he rings the doorbell. I'm all nervous, but trying to be sexy at the same time. I go to the door, but I realise I'm about to open it wearing a black lace teddy and high heels. I think to myself, "Hold on girl, this ain't the fuckin' Bunny Ranch." I'm not trying make him think he's gonna just walk into some pussy, you know? So, I run start running to my bedroom to get my bathrobe out of the closet.

Bad move. The heel breaks on my left shoe, and I lose my balance. As I'm falling, I push one of the end tables out of my way so that I don't fall into it, but I'll fall into the couch instead. Bad move. One of the vases my mother gave to me crashes to the floor. She is going to whoop my ass.

Anyway, I get my robe, put it on, and throw my heels into the closet. I'm thinking it might be better to just wear no shoes since I gotta hurry up and run to the door. Bad move. Remember the vase that broke? I slip on a big piece of it as get into the living room. Good thing it was ceramic, or else it might've cut me. But I did hurt my wrist breaking my fall.

So, at this point, I'm thinking maybe I should stop running through this place. I take a deep breath and I open the door. I'm trying to smile, even though I'm thinking, 'I know he just heard all that damn noise.' Sean has this smirk on his face like what the hell was going on in there! But he doesn't say anything stupid. Instead, he gives me a big hug and whispers in my ear, "You need me to help you clean up whatever you broke in there?"

I accepted his offer and let him in after I was done enjoying his warm embrace. He made me laugh to try and lighten the moment as we cleaned up the broken vase, found the heel of my shoe, and put the end table back where it belonged. Before you know it we were having a great time talking and drinking the champagne as we sat together on the couch. Ok, we didn't just sit on the couch. We were kind of all over each other on the couch.

Pretty soon we ended up in my bedroom. I guess you could say everything was going well. At least for him it was. I mean, I can't say I was putting up very much resistance. Ok, maybe no resistance. Sean is scorching hot, after all. When he took his shirt off, I kind of, melted like this morning's breakfast butter. That must've been part of his game plan, because every time my eyes found his chest and his sculped abs, they'd just roll up in my head again. But then he decided he wanted to flip me over and hit it from the back. Bad move.

As soon as I got on my hands and knees, my wrist burst into flames. Well, not literally. But this was the same wrist I hurt earlier when I broke my fall while slipping on the broken vase. I guess putting pressure on it reaggravated the injury. So instead of telling Sean I was in excruciating pain, I let him go ahead and get in me like Keith Murray. Bad move. Maybe I thought the pleasure of good sex would drown out the pain. It didn't. And after a few moments of pumping me like a piston, Sean discovered that the chassis had run out of lube.

Yeah. It was like metal grinding on metal in there. I was so embarrassed I couldn't lift my head to face him. He pulls out and tries to comfort me. He's all rubbing my back and asking "What's wrong?" and "Are you ok?" And there I am, still on all fours with my ass in the air and my face burried in my pillow ready to cry. Finally, he lays me on my side and spoons with me until I fall asleep. When I woke up this morning he was gone.

And I thought I was uncertain and nervous before! Now I'm going crazy wondering when or even if he's gonna call me today. Maybe I should call him and tell him what happened to me. Is he going to think I'm silly for not saying anything last night? Maybe he's going to think I'm an emotional wreck and decide I'm not worth the trouble. Maybe I... Oh shit... The phone's ringing.

-- sharon g.

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