DD's CJ

WWGD?

2012-03-12T01:00:00.000-04:00

I was wondering the other day about something: does God really love us, and if so, how would it comfort us when we are in pain or need if it does not have arms to hug us with? Would it send an angel, or would it just use the closest human to show it's love?

For me, if I were to be walking down a street and saw someone who had just lost a loved one or beloved pet, one who needed comfort even for a moment to let them know that there was someone in the world who gave a modicum of a damn, then this in my mind I would see as God working through me.

As mere minor humans in this grand drama we cannot change the world, nor hope to be it's savior, but each of us in our own way can BE that change, that voice and arm of the best the Universe has to offer.

Like I said, just a thought.

"They repent for what they have done wrong and G_d will forgive them"

2012-03-04T00:00:00.000-05:00

In studying the subject and causes of the mental and physical abuse I endured on a daily basis during my upbringing, the topics of repentance and forgiveness must be addressed.

Now that I have become aware of the causality, I must myself admit my own transgressions and sins against others; not to place blame on the past or those who instituted my base programing, but to own that to which I have subjected others, externalizing suppressed rage simmering from youth.

For the research and methods used to gain such knowledge however, there will be no apology no my behalf.

Knowledge should be free; no secrets, no barriers.

A degree, title or badge does not give one the right to say that they are more privileged or entitled to keep information from others, nor the egotistic bombast to claim that such titles prove that they are more intelligent or have greater cause to judge. This is the beginning of the caste system, and is the greatest form of egotism; in essence stating such persons are better or more blessed than others. Hubris.

Biblical scripture tells us that the essence of G_d is within each and every person, and thus, the greatest good is accessible to all. It also tells us that the final arbiter of judgement is G_d itself, therefore all forgiveness must start within our own hearts.

There is no excuse for the damage I have done to others, none.

With my education and knowledge, I should know better.

The internal pain I feel has a time blinded me, causing me to lash out in hurtful words and violent rage, most often under the influence of alcohol. All who know me can attest what it can do to me; the polar opposite of when I was allowed to use cannabis both to alleviate my physical issues and calm stress.

Curious isn't it?

That which causes pain and death is legal whereas...

THEREFORE:

To my wife, she that is loved with all my heart,

To my daughter, the product of a loving union and a Child of Light,

To all the nameless ones wronged by my speech or deed,

I humbly fall prostrate and beg forgiveness with all my heart and soul.

It is my greatest and most fervent desire; therefore, this prayer is my offering:

Our Father who art in heaven,hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread

Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

ברוך שם כבוד מלכותו לעולם ועד

Oceans Apart

2012-02-18T15:40:00.000-05:00

The gulf between us is a teeming distance in physical respects, but mere inches in

actuality due to the linkage of our souls.

Time and space are irrelevant.

The "soul" for lack of a better term, is our personal energy, our very nature.

If energy cannot be created or destroyed but only changed from one form to another,

then the distance between us is in all actuality infinitesimal.

Discerning this while distancing our ego from the situation places us at odds with

archaic philosophies and belief systems that purport the notion that we are

unique individuals, and not one with that which created us in the first place.

If this is at all true, then we are indeed wholly attuned to each other whether we like it or not.

Each one vibrating at a slightly different frequency and oscillating to a unique beat,

our essences' are never far apart from each other, no matter the distance.

The world we live in, the very Universe itself is but a glorious symphony

and as such has leads, harmony, timing and rhythms - each note swirling around the other,

searching in seeming desperation for the perfect chord.

Be at peace with yourself, and the world will follow.

My god, life has become a Pink Floyd song!

2012-02-14T02:41:00.005-05:00

Pink Floyd: Crazy.
Over the rainbow, I am crazy.
Bars in the window.
There must have been a door there in the wall when I came in!

Gerald Scarfe

Chorus: Crazy.
Over the rainbow, he is crazy.

The Judge: [disgusted] The evidence before the court is incontrovertible, there's no need for the jury to retire!
In all my years of judging, I have never heard before someone more deserving of the full penalty of law!
The way you made them suffer, your exquisite wife and mother, fills me with the urge to defecate!
Since, my friend, you have revealed your deepest fear
I sentence you to be exposed before your peers. TEAR DOWN THE WALL!!!!

Crowd chanting: Tear down the wall!
Tear down the wall!
Tear down the wall!
Tear down the wall!
Tear down the wall!
Tear down the wall!

With my profound thanks and undying admiration towards Gerald , Roger (my hero) and Pink Floyd

Right around the corner

2012-02-02T14:50:00.000-05:00

America is in a state of enlightened despotism where most individuals live only to satisfy selfish inner desires and remain ignorant of the state of the world around them.

Be a good consumer; always obey authority; you know nothing; listen only to experts;be content and never question or express new ideas; above all, do not discuss or investigate that which you do no know or understand - we are watching you and will oppress your every effort in any way possible - even to the point of incarceration or committal as mentally unstable.

By using Hegelian dialectic, the television and media in general:

promotes the problem
guides our reaction
presents the solution

What "they" did to us:

The problem of terrorism was exclaimed, a strong emotional response was evoked, and it was stated that our rights need be sacrificed in order to protect us from the threat.
We have lost personal sovereignty under the guise of terrorism
We are stopped and searched
We are watched by cameras as we go about our lives
We are encouraged to spy on our neighbors
We have been trained to accept the life of a prisoner

"If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it... It thus becomes vitally important for the State to use all of its powers to repress dissent, for the truth is the mortal enemy of the lie, and thus by extension, the truth is the greatest enemy of the State."

- Joseph Goebbels

"If we understand the mechanism and motives of the group mind, it is now possible to control and regiment the masses according to our will without them knowing it."

- Edward Bernays

2012-01-28T15:38:00.002-05:00

We had the opportunity to see Asteroid 2012 BX34 as it passed over our place here in Owings Mills yesterday morning..

Quite the sight.. you rarely get to see such spectacles in life, and the very least during the day time, unless that is they're about to slam into the Earth.

2012-01-22T14:02:00.001-05:00

The gulf between us is a teeming distance in physical respects, but mere inches in actuality due to the linkage of our souls if we indeed do have them.

Time and space are irrelevant.

The "soul" for lack of a better term, is our personal energy, our very nature. If energy cannot be created or destroyed but only changed from one form to another, then the distance between us is in all actuality infinitesimal.

Discerning this while distancing our ego from the situation places us at odds with archaic philosophies and belief systems that purport the notion that we are unique individuals, and not one with that which created us in the first place.

If this is at all true, then we are indeed wholly attuned to each other whether we like it or not. Each one vibrating at a slightly different frequency and oscillating to a unique beat, our essences' are never far apart from each other, no matter the distance.

The world we live in, nay the very Universe itself is but a glorious symphony and as such has leads, harmony, timing and rhythms - each note swirling around the other, searching in seeming desperation for the perfect chord.

Be at peace with yourself, and the world will follow.

Sadly, this is a message many do not want the world to hear, and one of the most profound secrets I have to share.

Just another thought...

2012-01-21T10:18:00.000-05:00

I haven't felt like writing much lately, perhaps it's due to the FEDERAL INDICTMENT
handed down by the feds against me regarding research I was performing. You know, what's on the surface isn't always what it appears.
Even theoretical physicists know this, and have concluded that:
1) Multiple dimensions certainly exist, and
2) Experiments have shown that time and space themselves are fluid and can be manipulated.

Personally, I believe it's a battle of Good vs. Evil or more correctly Light vs. Darkness with forces beyond the comprehension of mere mortals forming around us, make itself most visible in the current electoral process. To whit, I present the following ~

Wise words, heed them well.

2012-01-19T10:50:00.001-05:00

Couldn't say this better myself

Fight Censorship in all Forms!

2012-01-18T16:09:00.003-05:00

FARKing A...

2012-01-10T22:21:00.000-05:00

After my friend posted his thoughts on Fark.com, he contacted me in regards to my thoughts of reposting the actual story he referred to, or at least one of them.
Musing about it for some time, I reluctantly agreed but have insisted on burying it elsewhere and not on the main page; this is now reserved for my personal thoughts and observations about where I feel we are heading as a nation and world.

In regards to the last thought, I would like you to consider the following:
each day we are given an opportunity and choice to follow what is best and true for ourselves and others, choices that are seemingly innocuous, but like with the flapping of the butterfly's wing can and do have serious consequences in our own lives and the greater world at large.

Each of us are a golden thread in the grand tapestry of life. Removed, the thread would not cause the tapestry to collapse, however, it's grandeur would be greatly reduced.

My challenge to you is this: make that daily choice carefully, and with regard to your fellow man, truth, and the greater good. Do something nice for someone without thought of reward each and every day. Some random act of kindness.
See what it does for your life…

Be well, stay alert.

Christmas, 2011

2011-12-24T23:59:00.000-05:00

My thoughts at this time of year turn inward, as do those of so many others in the world to what this season means not only to us, but to those amongst us as well.

Do you know what MY fondest Christmas wish is?

I want to actually become Santa Claus, for real.

What better symbol than Santa exists to remind the child in all of the true spirit of Christmas, of giving and what it not only does for others but means to our inner selves, our soul?

John 15:13 tells us "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

This is the very definition of the selfless act, one that many including The Master has given.

There IS hope in the world today. I have seen and read countless stories this year regarding people who have given selflessly and anonymously to others, even when they themselves may have been in need.

Sacrifice.
Selflessness.

Kindness.

Thoughtfulness.

Love.

One of my favorite passages in the Christian bible is from Luke 2:8 and I'm sure you Charlie Brown fans all remember Linus' recitation:

There were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

When, lo, the Angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone 'round about them: and they were much afraid.

And the Angel said unto them: "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.

This shall be a sign unto you; You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger."
And suddenly there was with the Angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, "Glory be to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men."

Perhaps we should give pause and thought to the gravity of these words each and every day, be we Christian, Jewish, Hindu, Islam, Buddhist, Agnostic and yes, even Atheist.
You don't have to be a Christian to understand that if you want to change the world, you must first embrace peace, joy and kindness towards ALL mankind. Even those who have wronged you.

That's what Luke 2 and John 15 are all about. Similar stories fill volumes of every religious text from all faiths. This is no coincidence.

We have little time left my friends before what we have known about reality itself begins a radical transformation. Let these words ring true in your heart and manifest themselves in the daily actions of your life.
Spread the Good News of the majik that you know; do not preach a specific religion, but let words of love and the miracles surrounding you spring forth to water the seeds that are so in need.

Peace be unto you and yours at this blessed time.
Amen.

Countdown

2011-12-20T23:59:00.000-05:00

My Vision of the Destruction of America

Originally published by A. A. Allen July 4, 1954

See if you can spot any parallels here.. remember: this was written in 1954...

As I stood atop the Empire State Building, I could see the Statue of Liberty, illuminating the gateway to the new world. Here, spread before me like an animated map, is an area sixty or eighty miles in diameter.
I was amazed that the Spirit of the Lord should so move me, there atop the Empire State Building.
Why should I feel such a surge of His Spirit and power there?
Suddenly I heard the voice of the Lord. It was as clear and as distinct as a voice could be. It seemed to come from the very midst of the giant telescope. But when I looked at the telescope, I knew it hadn't come from there, but directly from heaven.
The voice said, "The eyes of the lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show himself strong in behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward Him. Herein you have done foolishly. Therefore, from henceforth, you shall have wars."
Immediately when I heard the voice of God, I knew this was a quotation of Scripture. But never before had a thing come to me so forcibly by the power of the Spirit. The ticking of the telescope stopped.

The man before me had used up his dimes worth. As he stepped away I knew that I was next. As I stepped to the telescope and dropped in my dime, immediately the ticking started again. This ticking was an automatic clock which would allow me to use the telescope for a definitely limited time only.
As I swung the telescope to the North, suddenly the Spirit of God came upon me in a way that I had never thought of before. Seemingly in the spirit I was entirely caught away. I knew that the telescope itself had nothing to do with the distance which I was suddenly enabled to see, for I seemed to see things far beyond the range of the telescope, even on a bright clear day. It was simply that God had chosen this time to reveal these things to me, for as I looked through the telescope, it was not Manhattan Island that I saw, but a far larger view.

That morning, much of the view was impaired by fog. But suddenly as the Spirit of the Lord came upon me the fog seemed to clear, until it seemed that I could see for thousands of miles. But that which I was looking upon was not Manhattan island, it was all of the North American Continent spread out before me as a map is spread upon a table, it was not the East River and the Hudson River that I saw on either side, but the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans.
And instead of the Statue of Liberty standing there in the bay on her small island I saw her standing far out in the Gulf of Mexico. She was between me and the United States. I suddenly realized that the telescope had nothing to do with what I was seeing, but that it was a vision coming directly from God. And to prove this to myself I took my eyes away from the telescope, so that I was no longer looking through the lens, but the same scene remained before me.
There, clear and distinct, lay all the North American Continent, with all it's great cities. To the North lay the Great Lakes. Far to the Northeast was New York City.
I could see Seattle and Portland far to the Northwest. Down the West Coast, there were San Francisco and Los Angeles. Closer in the foreground, there lay New Orleans, at the center of the Gulf Coast area. I could see the great towering ranges of the Rocky Mountains, and trace with my eye the Continental Divide.

All this and more, I could see spread out before me as a great map upon a table. And as l looked, suddenly from the sky I saw a giant hand reach down. That gigantic hand was reaching out toward the Statue of Liberty. In a moment her gleaming torch was torn from her hand, and in it instead was placed a cup.
And I saw protruding from that great cup, a giant sword, shining as if a great light had been turned upon its glistening edge.
Never before had I seen such a sharp, glistening, dangerous sword. lt seemed to threaten all the world.
As the great cup was placed in the hand of the Statue of Liberty, I heard these words, "Thus saith the Lord of hosts, Drink ye and be drunken, spue and fall, and rise no more, because of the sword which I will send" As I heard these words, I recognized them as a quotation from Jeremiah
25:7.
I was amazed to hear the Statue of Liberty speak out in reply, "I WILL NOT DRINK!" Then as the voice of the thunder, I heard again the voice of the Lord, saying, "Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, YE SHALL CERTAINLY DRINK." (Jer.25:28)

Then suddenly the giant hand forced the cup to the lips of the Statue of Liberty, and she became powerless to defend herself. The mighty hand of God forced her to drink every drop from the cup. As she drank the bitter dregs, these were the words that I heard, "Should you be utterly unpunished? You shall not be unpunished: for I will call for a sword upon all the inhabitants of the earth, saith the Lord of Hosts." (Jer.25:29)

When the cup was withdrawn from the lips of the Statue of Liberty, I noticed the sword was missing from the cup, which could mean but one thing. THE CONTENTS OF THE CUP HAD BEEN COMPLETELY CONSUMED! I knew that the sword merely typified war, death, and destruction, which is no doubt on the way. Then as one drunken on too much wine, I saw the Statue of Liberty become unsteady on her feet and begin to stagger, and to lose her balance. I saw her splashing in the Gulf, trying to regain her balance. I saw her stagger again and again, and fall to her knees.
As I saw her desperate attempts to regain her balance, and rise to her feet again, my heart was moved as never before with compassion for her struggles.
But as she staggered there in the gulf, once again I heard these words, "Ye shall drink and be drunken, and spue, and fall, and rise no more because of the sword that I shall send among you."

As I watched, I wondered if the Statue of Liberty would ever be able to regain her feet - if she would ever stand again. And as I watched, it seemed that with all her power she struggled to rise, and finally staggered to her feet again, and stood there swaying drunkenly. I felt sure that at any moment she would fall again - possibly never to rise. I seemed overwhelmed with a desire to reach out my hand to keep her head above water, for I knew that if she ever fell again she would drown there in the Gulf.

"Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night, nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the destruction that wastes at noonday." (Psalms 91:5,6)
Then as I watched, another amazing thing was taking place. Far to the Northwest, just out over Alaska, a huge, black cloud was arising. As it rose, it was as black as night. It seemed to be in the shape of a man's head. As it continued to arise, I observed two light spots in the black cloud. It rose further, and a gaping hole appeared. I could see that the black cloud was taking the shape of a skull, for now the huge, white, gaping mouth was plainly visible. Finally the head was complete.
Then the shoulders began to appear and on either side long, black arms. It seemed that what I saw was the entire North American Continent, spread out like a map upon a table with this terrible skeleton-formed cloud arising from behind the table. It rose steadily until the form was visible down to the waist. At the waist, the skeleton seemed to bend towards the United States, stretching forth a hand toward the East and one toward the West - one toward New York and one toward Seattle.

As the awful form stretched forward, I could see that the entire attention seemed to be focused upon the U.S., overlooking Canada at least for the time being. As I saw the horrible black cloud in the form of a skeleton bending towards America, bending from the waist over, reaching down toward Chicago and out towards both coasts, I knew it's one interest was to destroy the multitudes. As I watched in horror, the great black cloud stopped just above the great lakes region, and turned it's face towards New York City. Then out of the horrible, great gaping mouth began to appear wisps of white vapor which looked like smoke, as a cigarette smoker would blow puffs of smoke from his mouth. These whitish vapors were being blown toward New York City. The smoke began to spread, until it had covered all the eastern part of the United States.
Then the skeleton turned to the West, and out of the horrible mouth and nostrils came another great puff of white smoke. This time it was blown in the direction of the West Coast. In a few moments time,the entire West Coast and L.A. area was covered with it's vapors Then towards the center came a third great puff. As I watched, St. Louis and Kansas City were enveloped in its white vapors.
Then on it came towards New Orleans. Then on they swept until they reached the Statue of Liberty where she stood staggering drunkenly in The blue waters of The Gulf.

As the white vapors began to spread around The head of the statue, she took in but one gasping breath, and then began to cough as though to rid her lungs of the horrible vapors she had inhaled. One could readily discern by the coughing that those white vapors had seared her lungs. What were these white vapors? Could they signify bacteriological warfare or nerve gas that could destroy multitudes of people in a few moments time?
Then I heard the voice of God, as He spoke again: "Behold, the Lord maketh the earth empty, and maketh it waste, and turneth it upside down, and scattereth abroad the inhabitants thereof. And it shall be, as with the people, so with The priest; as with the servant, so with his master; as with the buyer, so with the seller; as with the taker of usury, so with the giver of usury to him. The land shall be utterly emptied, and utterly spoiled: for The Lord has spoken this
word. The earth mourneth and fadeth away,The world languisheth and fadeth away, the haughty people of the earth do languish . The earth also is defiled under the inhabitants thereof; because they have transgressed the laws, changed the ordinance, broken the everlasting covenant. Therefore has the curse devoured the earth and they that dwell therein are desolate; therefore the inhabitants of
the earth are burned and few men are left." (Isa.24:1-6)

As I watched, the coughing grew worse. It sounded like a person was about to cough out his lungs. The Statue was moaning and groaning. She was in mortal agony. The pain must have been terrific, as again and again, she tried to clear her lungs of those horrible white vapors. I watched her there in the Gulf, as she staggered, clutching her lungs and her breast with her hands. Then she fell to her knees. In a moment, she gave one final cough, and made a last desperate effort to rise from her knees, and then fell face forward into the waters of The Gulf and lay still as death. Tears ran down my face as I realized that she was dead!
Only The lapping of The waves, splashing over her body, which was partly under the water and partly out of water, broke the silence.
"A fire devoureth before them, and behind them a flame burneth; the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them, a desolate wilderness." (Joel 2:3)

Suddenly the silence was shattered by the screaming of sirens. The sirens seemed to scream, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" Never before had I heard such shrill, screaming sirens. They seemed to be everywhere - to the North, South, the East and the West. There seemed to be multitudes of sirens. And as I looked, I saw people everywhere running. But it seemed none of them ran more than a few paces, and then they fell.
And even as I had seen the Statue struggling to regain her poise and balance, and finally falling to die on her face, I now saw millions of people falling in the streets, on the sidewalks, struggling. I heard their screams for mercy and help. I heard their horrible coughing as though their lungs had been seared with fire. I heard the moaning and groanings of the doomed and the dying.
As I watched, a few finally reached shelters and above the moaning and groanings, I heard these words: "A noise shall come even to the ends of the earth for the Lord has a controversy with the nations. He will plead with all flesh; He will give them that are wicked to the sword, saith the Lord. Behold evil shall go forth from nation to nation, and a great whirlwind shall be raised up from the coasts of The earth. And The slain of the Lord shall be at that day from one end of the earth even onto the other end of the earth: they shall not be lamented neither gathered nor buried; they shall be dung upon the ground." (Jer. 25:31-33)

Then suddenly I saw from the Atlantic and from the Pacific, and out of the Gulf, rocket-like objects that seemed to come up like fish leaping out of the water. High into the air they leaped, each headed in a different direction, but every one towards The U.S.
On the ground, the sirens screamed louder, and up from the ground I saw similar rockets begin to ascend. To me, these appeared to be interceptor rockets although they arose from different points all over the U.S. however, none of them seemed to be successful in intercepting the rockets that had risen from the ocean on every side. These rockets finally reached their maximum height, slowly turned over, and fell back toward the earth in defeat. Then suddenly, the rockets which had leaped out of the ocean like fish all exploded at once. The explosion was ear-splitting. The next thing which I saw was a huge ball of fire. The only thing I have ever seen which resembled the thing I saw in my vision was the picture of the explosion of the H-bomb in the South Pacific.
In my vision, it was so real I seemed to fell a searing heat from it. As the vision spread before my eyes, and I viewed the widespread desolation brought about by the terrific explosions, I could not help thinking, 'While the defenders of our nation have quibbled over what means of defense to use, and neglected the only true means of defense, faith and dependence upon the true and living God, the thing which she greatly feared has come unto her! How true it has proven that "Except the Lord keep The city, The watchman watches but in vain."'

As the noise of the battle subsided, to my ears came this quotation from Joel, the second chapter: "Blow ye the trumpet in Zion, and sound an alarm in my holy mountain, let all the inhabitants of the land tremble: for the day of the LORD cometh, for it is nigh at hand; A day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick darkness, as the morning spread upon the mountains, a great people and a strong; there hath not been ever the like, neither shall be any more after it, even to the years of many generations.
A fire devoureth before them; and behind them a flame burneth: the land is as the garden of Eden
before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them. The appearance of them is as the appearance of horses; and as horsemen, so shall they run..." (Joel 2:4).

=======

So there you have it, circa 1954. Pretty brutal.

What do I personally believe?
The first line of this chapter in Luke perhaps says it best:
"I have come to set the world on fire, and I wish it were already burning! I have a terrible baptism of suffering ahead of me, and I am under a heavy burden until it is accomplished. Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I have come to divide people against each other!

From now on families will be split apart, three in favor of me, and two against or two in favor and three against. Father will be divided against son and son against father; mother against daughter and daughter against mother; and mother-in-law against daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law."
(Luke 12:49-53)

We as a nation have come to a cliff on what we saw as a never-ending road.
Overall, the basis of what we built upon with our belief in liberty and justice for all were put upon a seemingly strong foundation, but what mason places sandstone where bedrock should be used? What do the words "Liberty and Justice for all." mean when the very framers refused the truth of the last two words?
Were not the architects of the Declaration of Independence not for the most part married slave owners? Where was the liberty and justice for their wives or those viewed as chattel?

Let us not be unaware also of the meddling and underhanded dealing leaders WE OURSELVES have elected over the years have had a hand in subverting other nations for the benefit of our own benefit, or the benefit of ultra wealthy businessmen.
Who actually controls not only this country but all others as well? Assuredly not the citizenry nor even the electorate, that is for certain.

Those that have studied native indigenous cultures all over the world can tell you that one fundamental underlying concept that these people hold dear is one based upon balance with the earth that supports their very lives.
Couple this with knowledge that those who ignore history are condemned to repeat it and look around you.
We live in an unbalanced world of our own creation, and I feel that if we don't stand up NOW, it may be too late.
You may think that one little insignificant person cannot have any effect on any facet of life here on this little rock, but you would be wrong. Make your voice heard in whatever manner you choose, be it writing a blog, posting an opinion, or marching in protest, but DO SOMETHING before it is too late.

"I have a terrible baptism of suffering ahead of me, and I am under a heavy burden until it is accomplished."

What's next?

2011-12-20T22:51:00.001-05:00

Something is on the horizon…

…. and will change all our lives….

Coming soon

2011-12-20T22:49:00.000-05:00

More important than any other event in human history….

Is Confession Good for the Soul?

2011-11-27T21:52:00.001-05:00

Moving around due to work can be and is, a complete pain in the ass.

There’s not only the physical stress of packing, moving the furniture and unpacking, but also the necessity of living around other people who often lack polite living skills. Apartment dwellers such as CJ and I are sometimes subjected to what we jokingly refer to as “elephants” when sandwiched in the middle floor area for the manner in which they move around their place without regard to those below. Such is life and we put up with it the best that we can. Additionally there are the creepy folk who you almost never see, and god they should speak to you or even acknowledge your existence if it does even occur, or the nosy Nellie or Neil who insist on insinuating themselves into your life whether you want them or not.

Every so often, you run into the rare creature who respects your privacy but will also help you out whenever you need something and such as a tool or help carrying in your packages.

Such was the case in our newest complex where the next door neighbor we almost never saw moved out and a new couple moved in after the apartment was painted and prepped.

CJ and I just happened to meet them one Saturday when we were coming up to the adjoining hallway from the garage area, and thus Jake and Emily entered our small circle of acquaintances.

Professional people by trade, Emily was an RN at one of the local hospitals with Jake holding down the fort as a business consultant out of a spare bedroom in the apartment.

Pleasant but slightly reserved at the onset, ease of conversation soon followed and we both felt quite at ease almost at once with our new neighbors. There was a certain something about they way they related to each other and the ease of their speech that just made you feel warm and comfortable with them, the type of folks you’d want to have a drink with at the local pub. Perhaps it was their job backgrounds that helped, I don’t know.

Over the next few weeks and months, CJ and I would run into Emily coming or going from work, or Jake when he took out the trash or was washing his car and an pleasant friendship began to grow. We had offered any help or assistance to them when they moved in and they reciprocated the gesture. Once in a while we would hear a knock on our shared hallway door and find either of them asking for a nail to mount a knick knack or advice on where to find a certain store in the area. Never intrusive, they honestly respected our privacy and we theirs.

Last Tuesday morning CJ had gone off to several job interviews leaving me alone to make a late breakfast of bacon and waffles. Taking the syrup off the top shelf of the cabinet, I had just placed it on the counter when the toaster popped up my Eggos. The hot waffles were barely in my hand when a sharp unexpected rap rap rap came from the side door that startled me enough to snap my head upward, striking my crown on the corner of the cabinet door that I had left open.

“SUCK MY TITS! MOTHER FUCKER COCK SUCKER!!” I shouted out loud to no one in particular as I dropped the waffles on the floor and grabbed the top of my head that was instantaneously throbbing in pain.

“Son of a bitch, son of a bitch” I repeated through gritting teeth as I went to find out who had disturbed my solitude.

Flinging the lock back, I jerked open the door to find Jake standing there with a surprised and shocked look on his face, a cup in his hand.

“My gosh, are you alright Debbie?” he asked as he looked at the hand clamped on my head.

“Hi Jake, I’m ok, I guess. Just slammed my head into the corner of the cabinet door. What can I do for you?” I said with more than a grimace in the tone of my voice.

The shared hallway to our garages is unheated and the chilly Autumn air was noticeable between our apartments after I opened the door, and now the chilly air flowing under the thin nightshirt I wore around the house had turned my nipples hard but I had other things on my mind at the moment, so to speak.

The stiffened areola did not go unnoticed by Jake however, as his eyes darted back and forth from my face to chest then back again. Stammering out an apology, Jake said that he just stopped by to find out if we had any coffee maker filters as they had run out.

“My gosh, I’m so sorry I made you do that. Do you mind if I take a look at it to see if it’s bleeding or you need stitches? Emily taught me a thing or two about caring for wounds. Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll get something to clean it up with”.

Weak with pain I agreed, and motioning to the kitchen where he could find a clean towel, I asked Jake to bring me a couple pain reliever tablets and a glass of water, then went to the living room to sit down.

Jake returned with two pain relievers which I immediately gulped down, gasping as the swallow itself caused a needle sharp searing pain that shot from the top of my head straight down to my stomach. I was a bit nauseous.

I plopped down on the edge of our overstuffed sofa, my back against it’s arm as Jake carefully began parting my hair in order to identify the traumatized area.

“Whoa” exclaimed Jake, “That’s a pretty good bump. There’s a small bit of blood, but your hand pressure must have stopped the bleeding. Let me clean it up a bit, put some antibiotic there and you should be good. Except for the headache that is.”

His careful hands and the care which he daubed at my boo boo actually helped calm me down, my body relaxing now as the stress of pain began to subside.

As Jake took care of me, I began to notice that ever once in a while he would pause for a moment during which Jake took a noticeable breath in through his nose, paused, and then exhaled out though his mouth. I sensed a shake of his body or something, after which he resumed the care of my wound.

This happened a couple times which I thought was a bit queer, and then it struck me that Jake stood above and behind me while patching me up, giving him a nice clear view right down the front of the nightshirt that sheltered my unholstered breasts. Jake was getting a good look, and frankly I didn’t care that much since he was nice enough to provide some emergency care.

Picking up the tube of antibiotic to apply to my wound, Jake said softly, “Ok, almost done. Now turn your head just a little bit to the left so I can get a better angle.”

Complying, I turned left to accommodate him and noticed that I missed the fact that Jake was dressed in gym shorts, and surmised he had just returned from his morning workout at the apartment complex’s equipment room.

“Nice legs” I thought to myself in an almost compulsive manner. Let’s face it, women look at a guy’s legs and butt just like they look at our tits and ass, so I didn’t feel that guilty.

Jake paused again, and his sharp air intake breath with the following mouth exhalation caused my glance to fall on his shorts again, especially after I noticed a slight twitch beneath. Gazing down at my breasts as he worked from above was turning him on, and with my double d’s down there, I could see the results.

I admit that I love tube steak. I always have and always will, I mean, that’s how I got the nickname ‘Dirty Debbie’. It’s the hardness sure, but it’s also the musky smell of a man, the throbbing veining of the shaft, the soft spongy head that grows larger before it explodes, and the taste of cum rolling down my throat. The feeling of it sliding in and out of my mouth as I caress sweaty, low-hanging balls that slap my cheeks as I’m being vigorously face fucked, it’s just an indescribable joy to love such things and to be such a talented oral expert I’ve become.

I told myself I shouldn’t be looking at Jake’s package because I love CJ so much. We’ve had a tough road over the years and I’m patently loyal to him, never cheating on him or even having such thoughts, even though CJ has done so in the past in both regards.

But there was, that cock twitching there under those thin gym shorts, only inches from a mouth constantly lusting to lick and suck throbbing manhood.

Not having been with another man since CJ and I got back together, I sated my desire though online roleplaying and chat sessions with his blessing, since he couldn’t always satisfy my hyperactive sex drive.

Biting my lip, I averted my eyes however, the thought remained. I wondered what Jake’s cock was like and could see it’s vague outline pushing at times against his shorts, not having been this close to another man’s meat for many years and it was driving me wild.

“There you go, all done.” said Jake as he gathered up his supplies. “You should be good, but put some more antibiotic on it later.”

Rising and turning to follow Jake out to the kitchen, I suddenly became lightheaded and began to stumble. Jake saw me weave and immediately dropped what he had in his hands and reached out to catch me under the arms, his hands slipping quickly over my tits. As my knees went out from under my body my brain whirled around for a second and as it cleared, I found myself not only staring at Jake’s crotch, but realized that my hands had grabbed onto the only thing they could in order to stabilize myself, Jake’s butt.

Talk about awkward.

The momentary pause that followed was akin to what what I’ve been told happens in an accident when your life supposedly flashes before your eyes, and time slows to a crawl. I’m sure it was shorter than I thought it was, however there I was with my hands grasping the firm, round ass of another man staring at where cock and balls should be, while strong hands of a younger man held onto my breasts and back in order support my body.

The breath had left my body and I couldn’t breath for a second and as I stared ahead, my mature tits in Jake’s hands could not be ignored as his erection began to become more apparent. It was like a fast-motion film you see on the Nature Channel of flowers bursting out of the ground in the spring as Jake’s penis began to quickly rise behind his shorts.

My mind began to race as evil thoughts crossed my mind, quenched by remembrance of my love for CJ and the vow I had taken only to have the flames fanned again as the shape of a nice hard cock took form right in front of my eyes. I felt my nipples harden and a split second later, I felt a gush of juice making my pussy sopping wet.

Jake’s hands began to caress my breasts, filling his hands with gentle vigor and I couldn’t take it any longer.

Without another thought or hesitation, I grasped my neighbor’s gym shorts with both hands and yanked them downwards in one quick motion and was delighted to see that which I had longed for spring upwards has his own grasp on my tits increased vigorously. And he was good too, paying special attention to my nipples, pinching and twisting them between his fingers teasing them to become harder and harder. This of course drives me wild and my pussy got even wetter because as many know, my nipples are connected directly to my gash.

I licked my lips as I my eyes drank in the hard, throbbing cock in front of me, and after a quick bit on my lower lip, grasped Jake’s ass a bit tighter and swallowed his manhood in one quick motion. My neighbor had a nice cock that wasn’t too big, nor too small - just average size with a nice girth, a wonderfully plump purple head and balls that hung down like a donkey. Nice balls. I do so love balls.

Jake’s groping of my tits grew exponentially with the stiffness of his dick as I drew it back and forth into and out of my mouth faster and faster.

How I had dreamed of such an encounter, and now here it was happening.

Sucking on his mushroom head with abandon, I then kissed and caressed every inch of his shaft, working my way down to his balls and back again.

Again and again I thrust my mouth upon Jake’s hard cock, my hands now leaving his firm ass to slide up and down the shaft in rhythm with my thrusts.

Not long after, the hands that had been exploring my baby feeders slowed, soft moans and grunts now emanating from his throat as he stood up straighter, his spine now arching backwards.

I glanced upwards and seeing the look of ecstasy on Jake’s face, knew what he was feeling, this then amplifying the orgasm building in my pussy as well.

Turning back to the job at hand, or mouth as it were, I continued sucking off the hard cock in front of me with reckless abandon and soon after, felt Jake’s mushroom start to grow in my mouth.

I knew what was coming next and so so began to take my neighbor’s cock further, literally shoving it down the back of my throat in long strokes.

Suddenly I felt Jake grab me by the hair and the explosion of cum began to shoot down me, chocking me with what must have been a massive volume of semen. His cock came suddenly out of my mouth and Jake’s gush of orgasm continued, now plastering and painting my face with his gooey cum.

Barely able to catch a breath due to the amount of baby goo on my face, his hands loosened their grip on my hair and now it was Jake who staggered backwards, collapsing on his ass and then further onto his back as his body spasmed from what he had just experienced.

“Wow.” I thought, then “WOW, what have I done? Oh my god, CJ is never going to forgive me, but damn, that was just what I needed!”

Getting up off my knees and close to the kitchen, I found a towel and wiped the huge quantity of spunk off my face and hair, then went to see what happened to Jake.

He was where I left him lying on the floor, and as the spasms had subsided, began to rise on his elbows. Looking at me with a sheepish look, his face now turning a deep crimson as we both wondered what was going to happen next.

“I, I don’t know what to say Debbie, it’s all my fault.” stammered Jake. “If I hadn’t grabbed you the way I did when you fell, well, I guess..” His voice trailed off, grasping for words.

“No, Jake, I’m the one that did it, and I feel really guilty now that it’s over.”

That was the absolute truth. In a moment of weakness, I had performed oral sex on a man I barely knew, a neighbor I liked who also happened to be married to a woman I liked as well.

“Well, what do you think we should..”

“No, stop Jake. I said it was my fault and I don’t blame you for reacting the way you did. You were so nice to fix me up and now our friendship is probably ruined because of it, and I don’t know what to do next.” I said.

There was a pause, then Jake spoke softly. “Between you and me, I think that’s just where it should remain. I don’t know how I’d tell Emily about this or how she’d react, but I’m not EVER going to say anything, I promise.”

I sighed a breath of relief and let Jake know that I felt the same way, and that there was no way I’d ever tell CJ about what had happened.

Grinning, Jake put his head down for a second then looked me in the eye, smiled a grateful smile, and without another word, left out the same door he had knocked at only an hour before.

Locking the door behind him, I got myself a cup of coffee and went out on the porch deck and set down to think.

On my way out I happened to lick the corner of my mouth, my tongue picking up a hint of saltness that made my tastebuds explode in recognition.

How was I ever going to tell CJ the truth, and what was going to happen next.

I sat out there a long, long time.

Commentary

2011-11-07T12:54:00.000-05:00

Commentary

2011-11-02T18:55:00.001-04:00

PS from Me:

Didja ever notice how many conservative legislators and religious leaders - be they local or national - that speak out so loudly against any sort of "perversion" such as drug use, alcoholism or "sexual deviance

GET CAUGHT ENGAGING IN WHAT THEY RAILED SO ADAMANTLY AGAINST?

A Response

2011-10-28T02:02:00.003-04:00

The wait for my interrogator to return from phoning whoever he had to talk to regarding my demand was interminable, I had to pee and to top it off, I hadn't been able to change my tampon since this whole drama began.

The door to the outside was locked and even though I knew that there where cameras facing me, watching my every move while the perspiration beaded under each of my breasts, I vowed that I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they were but a cunt hair away from breaking me.

Hearing an electronic click, the door swung open and my interrogator reentered the room then stood facing me hands on the chair in front of him and looking me squarely in the eyes as I had done to him earlier, said,

"Deborah,"

(I simply DETEST when people use my formal, given first name)

"There's someone here that would like to ask you a few more questions if you don’t

mind. I think you know him, so it should be a bit easier for you to relate."

Turning to toward the door, he pushed it open a bit and motioned tosomeone outside and turning back to me said “I’d like to present the current head of NC⁴ISR, the man we quietly refer to as fingerspitzengefühl Obergruppenführer," he stopped to chuckle believing I didn't understand the words he tossed aside so casually, then continued the introduction as a tall imposing figure entered the room with a flourish, "Colonel Richard P. Stansfield".

The word ‘rugged’ did not adequately describe the massive, craggy, scar covered 6’5” tall man who then swept into the room, but on that face was an easy smile, the kind of smile that you, I don't know, just trusted somehow.

A gloved hand reached out towards me from a meticulously tailored and kept uniform, a branch which I just couldn't put my finger on ‘though - was a it Air Force? Navy?

Where had I seen this man and uniform before? I cursed myself for not knowing writing it off to lack of food and the many hours that had passed since I had last slept.

The man was powerful, you could tell by his movements and how everyone seemed to cower when he passed. I regarded the gloved hand for a moment then back at the officer. What WAS it about him that seemed so familiar?

“Come now Debbie!" he said to me, his voice a deep gravel bound rumble.

"We've met before you know" he chuckled, eyes twinkling as they pierced mine.

I stammered and stumbled for words but could find none applicable.

Wincing in pain as the slab of meat he called a hand squeezed mine a bit too hard, I then managed to squeak out, "Yes sir, if you say so Colonel Stansfield"

(Stansfield. Where had I heard that name before.)

"No no no, we won't stand on ceremony here Debbie - come now, just call me Paul, won't you?" the colonel replied.

Paul. Why was that familiar My eyebrows squinted together as I regarded the Colonel.

Stansfield. Stansfield. Stansfield.

wait….

…..what?

Paul. Stansfield.

Colonel.Paul. Stansfield.

FUCK ME!

It hit like a brick. I don't know how I could have forgotten or been so stupid, and my hand damned near slapped my forehead as it came to me, my mind racing and reeling.

"Of course - Paul Stansfield. How could I forget?" I said with a tone flat voice before slumping down in the chair behind me, half in shock the other half in resignation.

I was fucked, totally and completely now.

Paul Stansfield.

The name was like a red hot knife burning in the center of my brain, or more bluntly, a red hot dagger.

Yes, that's it precisely.

A dagger.

The imposing figure facing me was someone I had not seen in many years, but one who knew about me, my exploits, and frankly, every cock I'd ever sucked or fucked.

COLONEL Paul Stansfield was the biker I met so many years ago working undercover as "Dagger"

Dagger the biker; now a feared and respected military leader who seemed to know everything and everyone.

Dagger, the biker was now a man with fingers in many pies, the fingerspitzengefühl Obergruppenführer.

Oh yes, I knew EXACTLY what that phrase meant.

My only thought beyond this was one of duality: I was about to either disappear permanently without a trace or with luck, become one of those rare, perpetual lottery winners that cross the headlines every so often then quietly vanish until they win multiple jackpots again and again.

For my sake, I hoped it was the latter, not the former..

Next: Aces and Eights or the Royal Flush?

Resignation

2011-10-08T16:00:00.000-04:00

Forgive me my friends for not putting to hard disk the more recent adventures of my life and job as a more or less glorified undercover professional cock sucker.

So much has happened, so many details, stories and adventures have whizzed by in the intervening months, that it will take some time to write them down now that I am no longer employed.

You read that correctly - finally having enough of the bureaucracy and general BS that I endured on a daily basis surrounding my "job", that I finally told them all to kiss my ass and just quit.

This in and of itself was not without it's own problems, as my superiors couldn't just allow someone who was not actually a sanctioned employee walk out that easily, not with my knowledge of the 'who', 'where' and 'how' encompassing my job nor the bizarre and frightening people I'd come to know (and blow) over the years.

No, I knew they wouldn't let me walk without considering a more "permanent" retirement package for me, and I knew this was a distinct possiblity.

Overcoming an obstacle of this magnitude wouldn't be easy were it not for a video showing a covert operative searching a location for which I knew damned well he didn't have a search warrant.

A video secreted away somewhere out here in cyberspace amongst the hundreds of billions of exabyte, somewhere safe but totally accessible if the need should arise.

Fears regarding what -could be- were allayed as I secured the sealed letter with the video's web address to a close friend and lawyer, with instructions regarding dissemination to interested parties should my demise fall under a cloud of suspicion.

On a Monday not so long ago, I turned in my letter of resignation and soon afterward began dutifully filling out the mountain of forms dumped unceremoniously on my desk by a dour HR employee who grunted to me as she left, "Someone will contact you to arrange an exit interview"

The evil glint in her eye betrayed awareness of my cover employment and what lay next. That "next" didn't occur for over a week.

Summoned to yet another anonymous office building in DC, I was met with interview after interview, form after form, official after official until many hours later when the real fun began in the form of an interrogation and quickly escalated into veiled threats about the dire consequences involved with revealing what I knew to anyone.

Enduring interminable hours of bullying, threats and intimidation, the exit interview and debriefing consisted of questions regarding the motivating factors of my resignation, my intentions upon leaving, where I would go and what I would do once arriving.

given the depth of my knowledge.

Eventually I was interviewed by a man with military bearing who began to ask questions revealing that he had intimate knowledge of my "encounters', someone I surmised with high enough clearance to be privy to such information. That's when I laid it out on the table.

Leaning in across the table towards him, I shifted my torso to allow maximum cleavage visibility, licked my lips, then slowly turning my head up and away from him, gazing momentarily at the ceiling as if lost in thought.

Biting my lip severely and taking in a large breath of air to puff my magnificent rack out juuust a bit further, I gave him a additional heartbeat to stair before snapping my neck back down to to his eye level, which was of course focused a bit further South.

Startled, his neck snapped upward to find my eyes drilling holes in his before starting to speak sharply.

"Look, let's cut the shit and get down to it, shall we? You and your superiors want to know, one, have I been bought or coerced by outsiders to quit, two, am I'm going to spit out details regarding the pieces of shit you've had me fuck and suck, the places I've seen or been to over the years, and most especially number three: am I'm going to tell anybody about this crap or relate details in my blog. A blog by the way, I know you've been aware of for years. A blog where you know goddamned well I've written about my sexual escapades, but disguised details regarding anything personal or incriminating - right?

Well, the answers are 'no', 'no', and YOU'RE GODDAMNED RIGHT I'M GOING TO TELL if you try and fuck me like a drunken Tijuana whore after a hard weekend.

Tell that is, unless you play by the rules I'm about to lay down and there will be NO negotiation, savvy?"

The intelligence officer's face betrayed a momentary laps of decorum that was both priceless and unexpected, as training dictates remaining emotionless shells when questioning a subject lest a look betray intent, knowledge or future action.

I too learned early that my looks and 'bod would obtain almost anything desired, details I had honed in the last few years to a razors edge, and I had used them well in this case to my adventge

Composure regained, the agent's left eyebrow arched slightly and his steely eyes regarded me momentarily before replying, "Rules?"

"Only one rule" I said back, "Leave me and my family alone after I leave. No "accidents" or mysterious circumstances where we suddenly disappear or fall off a boat. None of the shit I know you guy's have done in the past - nada - or the tape goes public."

I then proceeded to tell him about the tape, what it contained, who and what it showed, and all the dirty details surrounding how it was obtained.

The agent / officer listened closely to the details related and after several seconds of deathly silence as we regarded each other said, "That's it? You don't want anything else? No demand for money or something else? Just to leave you and your family unharmed and in peace?"

A small smile crossed my lips as I said "Yes. That's it. Just let us live our lives without interference. Sure, I'm going to tell tails in my blog, but you know I'll protect the guilty, now don't you?"

Rising, my inquisitor swallowed and said "I have to make a call, please wait here.." then turned and left the room.

Wait here. Like I had any choice in the matter.

2011-09-12T19:43:00.000-04:00

How slutty are you? Here's a chance to find out:

TAKE THE SLUT TEST

Me? Pretty damned slutty I guess.. here's my score

In Rememberance

2011-09-09T13:42:00.003-04:00

What is and What Shall Be

2011-08-31T00:13:00.002-04:00

Chapter 3: "Meine Ehre heist Treue"

2011-08-10T22:31:00.001-04:00

Catch up on the story:
Chapt 1

Chapt 2

Returning to reality after my all too brief reverie of the past, I shook off thoughts of David and my first taste of cock to see Ben still staring holes deep into my blissful face.

What manner of person was this that would approach me, openly challenging my inner sexual desire with a look that reminded me of a cherished memory while frightening my core with paranoid thoughts? With my mind racing faster as I attempted to grasp just what Ben was asking of me, various words spilled from my mouth in a torrent of petulant rage.

"Who the fuck are you and why do you know so much about me? How in the name of Athena do you know about who or what the fuck I like to do and where in shit to did you find out about what I choose to wear or not wear under my clothes?"

A slight smirk of a smile crossed Ben's face for a millisecond as he starred down towards his shoes, and I could almost see a glimmer of a dimple on his cheek as he began to talk to his feet. "Well, that's kind of a long story, and it is a bit secret, but we think that we can trust you with a bit of information at this point".

Shifting his feet from the top of one Thom McAn to another (hey, a girl can tell a lot about a man by what kind of shoes he wears, and these were a strictly Industrial Office Type shoes that had been polished a many times) Ben began to vaguely describe a scene from my past, and not necessarily a pretty one that I chose to remember until he brought it thundering back.

"Do you happen to recall a fellow named Paul Stansfield? Big guy, about 6'6", 230 pounds, long haired fellow?"

Frantically searching my recollections from the hundreds of men that I had met in the past, not all of which I had dalliances with, I just couldn't recall the name in order to associate a face.

"Biker bar called On the Rocks in Virginia Beach ring a bell?

How about the name "Dagger"?

Oh.

My.

God.

Do ya know how some parts of you life stick out like a sore festering thumb while others just get buried farther as time goes on? The mind is like that. It shoves the bad stuff down in to little cracks and crevices and removes all traces of light from incidences that are best not remembered except in to a priest in confession.

This was one of them, and a memory of the past came boiling to the surface as soon as Ben said the words "biker bar" and"Virginia Beach"; a sodden beam of wood swung out of left field careening off my head, forcing me to remember a time best left forgotten, dead and burred.

The name Dagger was a brick thrown straight to the center of my soul, shattering me emotionally as the whole episode came flooding back.

It was the mid 80's, I was young, and the Spring Break thing was into full swing. The headiness and pain of the 70's were thankfully giving way to the exhilarating optimism of the Reagan era; the greed generation was an unstoppable force with Bolivian Marching Powder leading the way.

Knowing this, my college girlfriends and I saved as much as we could from performing drone jobs at the various low-paying slop outlets in town that employed 17 year old girls, and pooling our resources, headed to a hot spot of teenage debauchery - Virgina Beach, Virginia.

Beach, beer, coke and cock - what more could we want?

Scoring a room near the beach, we spent our days lounging in the sun or playing bikini beach ball, hoping that our outfits were skimpy enough and our boobs bouncing hard enough to attract some young cock stud out on the make. The beer flowed and the sand flew as we made our choices for the night; a regular meat market affair on a grand and sweaty scale.

The first day in town, some of my girlfriends got gluttonous and hankering for the first cock they saw swinging in their face though swim trunks, began humping like whores in an orgy fuck fest with any and every piece of meat they saw.

Realization dawned with the morning sun that there were soooo many boys out there, they could actually be choosy. Now I hope this doesn't come as a complete shock to the guys reading this, but we girls want to be something more than a cum dump to be passed out on, or unceremoniously rolled out the door after a few minutes (?) of grunting a groaning.

Now oiled up, on the beach, and pulling hard on the occasionally joints passed my way, I laid back and perused the scene in front of me while enjoying the new-found freedom my pussy was craving after being in that God-forsaken Midwestern college town.

I think it was the fourth or fifth night of beer, dope and random boys-fucks that it all began to actually get boring (I know! Listen to me!) and I began to crave something different, something more experienced, something a bit more randy, perhaps something with a hint of danger attached.

This in mind, decided to leave my less sexually advanced roommates behind and began Virginia Beach's famous Pacific Avenue sidewalk crawl in search of that certain something.

What a scene this strip of asphalt was back in those days with the sidewalk vendors, buskers, drunks and bars! It's more tightly controlled these days with cameras mounted on light poles and policemen quietly sneaking up on you via mountain bikes, but in those days, you could pretty much get away with smoking a joint out in the open as you walked down the street.

Times and attitudes have changed.

Pat Robertson has his church here, the "moral majority" came into power, and Virgina Beach became more "family friendly" so they don't cotton to the open attitude we so earnestly embraced back then.

Out here on Pacific Avenue I felt a bit freer, and even though I was surrounded by a crush of people, I kept my eye out for just that one Big Thing. Suddenly, there it was.

Stopped at the intersection of Pacific Avenue and 22nd street were several big Harley Davidson motorcycles, mounted by big hairy men sporting glorious multicolored muscled arms.

Sitting there on glittering chrome beasts waiting on the traffic light as the late afternoon sun beat down hard upon them, revving their engines every so often; the vibrations pulsating through me and of course, my pussy by proxy.

Something suddenly came over me - call it youthful hubris I guess - but I ran towards to nearest rumbling chrome stallion and hopped on the back, embracing the huge guy piloting this throbbing beast around the waist just as the signal light turned green. He roared off toward the South side of town without even acknowledging my presence, almost like I wasn't there or perhaps this sort of thing happened on a daily basis. Whatever it was, I was on board and the throbbing engine thrilled my young pussy, that much I can tell you for sure.

I thought it strange that he didn't say anything or react in any way to this intrusion of his mechanical solitude, but a mile down the road I heard him grunt "Wot's yer name?" in a rumbling voice that matched his bike's motor.

"Uh, Debbie" I said back. "Speak up girl!" the biker shouted again.

"DEBBIE!" I shouted into his ear.

"Name's Paul, but my 'bros call me Dagger"

Dagger.

Dagger danger. Danger dagger. Danger, meet Dagger - Dagger, danger.

It was about then that I realized that he was wearing a vest

stitched with patches, the top one with "Pope's of Hell" embroidered upon it.

I said it before and I'll say it again: Oh. My. God!

As Dagger went zooming hard into a sharp corner, my hands slipped down for a better grip and I suddenly understood his nickname.

It was a dagger all right, one I found out later originally given to the notorious Oskar Dirlewanger by the equally loathsome Heinrich Müller, later returned to the SS chief in proof that Dirlewanger had indeed been arrested by the French. After that, it was lost to history and the conquering Allied armies of World War II.

Dagger was reluctant to say more about his namesake, save that his grandfather had given it to him before he died.

Finally turning the huge Harley into a parking lot of what resembled a large, broken down shack bearing a bent up sign reading "On the Rocks", Dagger brought the bike to a halt, put it's kickstand down, shut off the engine, and just sat there.

One of his fellow bikers sauntered over and after giving me the once-over, then saying to the biker "Hey bro, looks like ya picked up a little baggage in town!"

"Yeah, but I ain't seen her yet. She a dog?"said Dagger in a low bass voice that sounded straight from the gravel pits.

"Hell no Dag, she's a goddamned stone cold teen fox an looks like she got a nice rack on er too!" said the biker that came over. Ugly little toad; had warts too.

Dagger replied with a slow Southern drawl that reeked of shit-eating grin, "Yeah, I figgered that when I felt 'em press'n in me on the turns." Turning, he looked at me, "Well bitch, you gonna get off er wot?"

Climbing off the big Hog''s back butt pad, I realized my mouth must have been hanging wide open due to the rather candid conversation that was taking place in front of me because Dagger's biker brother chuckled as he leered at me."I reck'n a mouth flapp'n open like hers could suck start 'ol Betty any day dude, er fer that matter, any one of our Hogs!"I presumed "Betty" was Dagger's bike. I hoped..

Both laughed hard and long and as I watched them exchanged a High Five, knew there was a bit of trouble in my immediate future, how much I would just have to find out on my own.

Hell. That's why I went looking, right? I wanted a 'real' man and a bit of danger didn't I?

Little did I know where that spring break fling would lead in the future.

"Well," said Dagger to his biker bro, "she DID say her name wasss 'Debbie' so she can't be all bad, eh?" and with that, the two men fell all over each other howling and hooting.

My name has given me trouble ever since some boys in 6th grade class snuck into a local porn store. Debbie Does Dallas. Infamous not only due to the star's prodigous oral abilities that I shamefully admit emulating in later years, but also because she was underage at the time.

All hell broke loose when that tidbit of knowledge was later released and all prints were seized by the Feds, but bad Beta video copies were made that are still somewhat available if you look hard enough I suppose, but they carry a hefty price tag.

I say it's all BULLSHIT, because there are stills and video on the internet for all to see from the 1928 movie Child Bride as a basic example, but I'm pontificating here instead of relating what happened next with Dagger and his fellow bikers.

Turning quickly to hide my red-faced embarrassment at what I knew to be all too true, my back was to the bikers and gaze focused on an empty lot across the street when I felt a hard stinging slap on my ass. A huge, calloused hand grabbed my left arm and swing me around hard to face Dagger.

"Lemme look at you girl" he said as I stumbled under his firm grasp.

Looking me up and down like an auctioneer sizing up a steer for sale, his gaze stopped when they beheld my bikini-tethered breasts and I saw his focus narrow on them, felt my nipples quickly stiffen in a combination of excitement and fear.

"Damn! You got some nice titties there little girl, some FINE ass titties!"

A look of fear and trepidation must have crossed my face momentarily, and after Dagger lead me to the entrance of the bar with his other club members, he suddenly stopped for a second, looked me in the eye and asked me how old I was.

"How old do you think I am?" I stammered.

"That's not the point", Dagger hissed, "Tell me the truth."

"I'm 21" I said looking him in the eye as I spoke. I lied, or course.

Perhaps a tiny muscle twitch somewhere on my face betrayed me, I don't know. Dagger surveyed me for another moment, and I felt a lump forming in my throat. Steely gaze narrowing as he sized me up, one eyebrow cocked in the air momentarily as a furrow crossed his forehead, and then with my arm still in a firm grip began to walk me towards the entrance of his club's hangout or clubhouse, I didn't know.

He muttered something that I didn't quite catch sotto voce under his breath, but I thought I heard the words "gonna regret this".

We walked towards the door and Dagger said in a low but clear voice and in a tone that was as serious as the steel namesake on his belt, "OK, you're "21" and you wanna party with the big boys. I can dig it, but if you wanna leave at any time, you let ME know. You're here with ME, and you're safe as long as I'm around, but don't go off anywhere with any of the other bro's or you're on your own, savvy?" A sigh of relief somewhat crossed my mind hearing that, and there was some strange comfort in the accentuation of his words, and I felt myself begin to lighten up a bit.

On The Rocks

Dagger led me into his hangout, clubhouse, bar or whatever the fuck that shit hole was and after my eyes adjusted to the much dimmer neon and tobacco smoke enhanced light, a visage of how I imagined the stereotypical biker bar would look now came into focus.

Growing up in the White Bread Midwest, there had been a never ending plethora of late-nite babysitter B-movies from the 60's on TV running late into the night until the now-sleeping brats owners returned, gloriously boozed up and well after 2am.

Often these poorly shot, acted and edited films were social commentary on society at the time or simply exploitation films, but many featured rough edged biker maniacs, floozy girlfriends with questionable morals, always some nameless debauchery that I could only guess at given my age at the time, and setting the scene was a dim, dirty, smoky worn out bar. Just like the one I was entering, I swear to God.

Loud music blared from a jukebox - I swear to God it was "Tequila" by The Champs - in front of me stood a long grimy bar framing a guy passed out prominently in the center, two of worn pool tables, an old pinball machines, and an overpoweringly sickly sweet smell of beer or some other liquid spilled on the floor ages ago. Whether that 'liquid' was out of a glass or out of a stomach, was entirely up to interpretation.

Several women dressed in jeans and leather vests that had been talking to each other began pawing over a few of the bikers we came in with, and looking to their right saw a small stage lit by blue and red floodlights, a large pole rising floor to ceiling in the center.

Having never seen or been in a strip club before, I deduced from the girls slobbering over the men and descriptions I read in novellas as a horny teenager that this was indeed a strip club or sorts, albeit, probably private. After all, I thought, who in their right mind would come in here?

"Ya wanna beer?" slurred Dagger as we slid into a side wall booth. Noting the parched feeling in my throat after the bike ride, I nodded acceptance at the offer.

"Doris! Gimmee four Millers, four shots of Jack, and get the lead out bitch!" he screamed at the bartender over the background music.

Turning back to me, he asked me why the fuck I jumped on back of his bike at the stoplight, and if I realized how dangerous that sort of stunt was considering my age. His questions came more rapidly than the bartender with the beer - where was I from, how many siblings, did I go to school, who was I here with and most importantly, did my friends know where I was or what I had just done.

I needed that beer desperately but told Dagger about my life in the Midwest, college and why my friends and I came to Virginia Beach: cock, beer and drugs.

"Oh yeah, spring break... lots of pussy, an ocean of beer, and tons of drugs. Ain't America great?"

I had to agree with him that it was.

Next: Secret Sins: Chapter 3 -
"Meine Ehre heist Treue", Part II

Chapter 2: First Taste

2011-07-07T14:37:00.003-04:00

(Don't forget to read Chaper 1)

During my college days I was a very studious girl, excelling in all of my classes, and making the dean’s list every semester for four years after exiting High School a year earlier than my peers. Being the product of Midwestern WASP parents meant that a good work ethic and sense of right and wrong had been instilled in me at a very early age, and of course continues to this day. “If you start a job, finish the job and do it right the first time” my father said, and frankly I’ve always found it to be true. I mean, if you decide to do something – anything quite frankly – then you’ve made a contract with your inner self and the outside world that you accept the challenge put forward, and if that’s the case, then why would you not want to put your best effort out in order to achieve the desired goal?

Such was the case with sucking cock I guess.

I’ll never forget my first boyfriend’s, they first guy I ever kissed; his name was David Slone and he lived down the street from me when we lived in Indianapolis.

What is it about the first kiss or the first boyfriend that you never forget? Is it the feeling down deep inside, those hormones raging ceaselessly coursing through your bloodstream, or is it the first excited tingle “down there” that you felt but weren’t supposed to talk about (oh no, MidWASP’s almost NEVER talk about sex except after they’re married, and then only to their partner in darkened rooms and in hushed, frightened whispers)

For me, it was David's eyes.

No, it wasn’t the color (hazel), but something behind them that I could never quantify, some deep quality lurking beneath the surface ready to burst forward like an unexpected volcano explosion. Not violent, but creative in a way.

Ah, I miss David and have always wondered what happened to him.

It was David that introduced me to kissing when we were 14, and three years later to what a hard boy-man felt like. Me, I was scared and quivering at the time, but excited as well as I’d seen pictures of a man’s penis in health class, but never one standing straight up at attention and in full glory before, and being the raging hormone laden young person that I mentioned before, was curiously excited to touch this throbbing part of my boyfriend’s body. And I DO mean throbbing!

Oh God, I remember it to this day.

David and I snuck into the baseball dugout at school to eat lunch alone when I noticed him for real. He stopped in mid sandwich chew and after noticing me looking at HIM began staring at the well-beyond budding breasts beneath my blouse.

Something surged through me like fire.

As soon as I had noticed David's gaze and almost unbeknown to me, my nipples popped up as the rush settled through me and I actually felt David's eyes begin to bore holes though my blouse and cotton bra at them.

It was about that time that I noticed the tent that had arisen in his pants, down in his crotch. “Oh my!” I thought. “What’s that?”

David looked at me and I looked in those beautiful eyes and I could see in his eyes that he wanted to touch my breasts, so I made the fateful decision that this was THE day he would get past brushing by them every so innocently to actually seeing and touching them.

I do so love the look and feel of a throbbing cock in my mouth, no matter for how long. So sue me.

Not averting my gaze from him, I began to unbutton my blouse and show him my Pride and Joys. My P&J’s had come in a couple of years earlier, slowly at first then over the summer of my 12th birthday, bursting forth much to my mother’s chagrin. She kept me in clothing that hid them, telling me that it wasn’t “polite” to show them off, and NEVER to boys.

Oh, we had “The Talk” in a round about way I guess, strictly the facts, but never anything about the feelings or the act. Abstinence only: and this was the early 70’s! LOL! Talk about abstinence, I almost never saw my parents holding hands, and only on the rare birthday or celebration did I observe them even kissing, but then only a quick peck on the lips. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever fantasize about them in the act of making love, nor did I want to after “The Talk”.

Removing my blouse slowly, I thought that I saw a quiver on David's lip as he reached out tentatively towards by breast. Hesitating a moment, he then grabbed my P&J’s a bit too hard, but quickly finding a happy medium, began to squeeze and caress them.

I know now his hesitation was justified given the size and quality of my P&J’s (I do so love them myself as they are still firm, full and hard), but he sallied on, sliding his hand under the cup of my left breast, hesitating ever so slightly at the feel of my bulging nipple. I knew immediately by his touch that this was the first time that he had felt an actual erect nipple, the touch that of an inexperienced lover. For myself, I had enjoyed making my nipples hard from, shit, almost the first moment I can remember. The feeling of the blood coursing through my veins towards by areolas buried deep in my brain from youth, but now, so much different that someone else was manipulating them.

Again, I noticed the bulge in his pants, but now, some animalistic instinct had come over me and I found myself reaching out to touch his crotch, probably too hard at first similar, to how he had grabbed me but them finding an easy medium as if I had been born to it.

Quickly unzipping his pants to reveal his white briefs, I could see his penis straining at the bit as it were, to be revealed in all of its glory. Stroking it softly but firmly, I could also sense the throbbing lying between scant millimeters of fabric and with almost unconscious knowing, released his shaft from its confines.

Oh glory, the first time I ever saw a hard cock! I don’t know to this day what came over me, but without hesitating, bent over and placed my mouth around his bulge, automatically moving up and down with it in my mouth as my tongue caressed the hard vein-y shaft.

It was much to my surprise that something hot and slightly salty went shooting into my mouth.

Quickly pulling my face away from his cock and spitting I exclaimed, “Oh my God, did you just pee in my mouth?”

It was about then that I noticed David shuddering with immense spasms, his head slight cocked back at a weird angle, twitching as if he was having a seizure, but with this blissful look on his face.

Momentarily he regained his composure, looking at me with those beautiful eyes, and said “Uh, , uh, no. I think I did what they call cumming. Oh my God, it felt so good!”

Mmmm. I’ll never forget the first taste of cum – David’s cum ¬– so sweet yet salty, so smooth, like pudding – yes, Man Pudding – as it slipped down my throat. I was hooked, and I’ve never looked back.

Sure, there were lots of other boyfriends and lovers throughout my future school days, and yeah, maybe I did have some kind of reputation as a girl who gulped a good gob, but I was choosy and it quickly got around that I wouldn’t slurp just any old schlong; I may be easy, but I’m not sleazy.

As to the two of us, David looked down at me all embarrassed and stumbled out an apology quickly as he fumbled to recover his pants. I’ve never understood men who don’t like to bask in the afterglow as I call it, reveling in the feeling of bliss that accompanies the perfection of orgasm. Mostly it reminds me of seeing the sex films in biology class where one monkey comes up behind a female, mounts here, shoves it in a couple of times, then BAM!, he’s gone onto another butt scratching exercise with his buddies while the female just hunches there looking stoned. I know that we’re supposed to be evolved beyond the animalistic instincts of our poor cousins, but I mean really!

Anywho, I do so love the look and feel of a throbbing cock in my mouth, no matter for how long. So sue me.