A Shared Moment

Tensions between Hot Boss and I are getting tighter and harder to handle the closer our respective transfers get. The good news: He's going to the same store I'm going to in August. The bad news: He's going to be even higher up ont the Conglomomart Chain of Command, so that makes him even more unattainable for me. I'll just have to deal with the stress of being strongly attracted to someone I can never have. It makes for a fun working environment, though- especially when I know he reciprocates the feelings towards me (even though they remain unspoken, except for the offhand comment or the refusal to move when I have to get an envelope that just happens to be at his crotch area level). So the saga of Hot Boss and I shall continue to intrigue and amaze here in the pages of Three Of A Kind!

The shared moment: It was late in the last part of our respective shifts, and we were both more than a little bit tired. It's a hectic week at Conglomomart with the Pepsi Americas Sail going on and 4th of July weekend and millitary pay weekend, and one person leaving early today. That meant it was just me and Hot Boss together all night long, not counting the boys in the bays. So he's rushing around trying to get things together, and I'm rushing around trying to sign people up, ring people out, cut keys, answer questions, and still keep calm and composed.

Finally a lull hits... it's just Hot Boss, Queen (who has come to pick me up from work), and me clustered around the computer trying to get a look at what we have in the system.

It's here that it strikes me to use my position with him to influence him a little. In my best begging voice, with my head cocked at the cute-little-schoolgirl angle and my skirt swishing around my ankles, I looked at him and said, "Can your last act in this store pleeeeeeaaaasssseeee be to grant me my two weeks vacation times?" Blink, blink, grin, swish swish.

Hot Boss blushes and turns his head away in the shy and awkward way of a nerd on prom night, and agrees. Hot blood rushed to his face and you could just see (or I could from my vantage point, anyway) that my swishing had done its trick. I had embarrassed him again- had him in the palm of my hand and he knew that I knew that he knew it.

I'll be honest- a lot of my day is spent fantasizing about pulling him down in the oil pit and ravishing him. I plan to write about that at a later date.

IceWater Veins

That's Ace's new nickname. This boy slept through a blowjob and a handjob.

HNT

My first entry in Half Nekkid Thursdays!

It's pretty dark, but it's still me naked!

I'm not the only geek out there!

A brief quotation from Chelsea Girl, a blogger over at Pretty Dumb Things (one of my favorite blogs, btw):

I have had a heart-to-heart with Britney Spears. I have sung drunkenly with Keith Richards. I have lazily twined daisies into the springy pubic hairs of the gameskeeper. I have fed from the blue fingertips of Dr. Hank McCoy. I have meditated long and hard on the carnal possibilities of Stretch Armstrong.

And now, I want to fuck Fred and George Weasley. Together.

I am a great big Harry Potter geek. I have read each book no fewer than four times, and some of them more like six or seven. When I am depressed, which has been often, though of late, rather amazingly, less and less so, I have soothed my fractured self with the calming balm of Hogwartian fantasy. I know the characters well. I have lived with them for endless, looping months at a time. I can tell you the quirks, the likes and dislikes, the relative merits, foibles and faults of them all.

And I love them, love the whole swarming herd, love Harry, love Dumbledore, love Hermione, love Lupin, love Sirius, love them, love them all.

But I don’t want to fuck any of them but the Weasley twins. (Actually, I would totally fuck Sirius. I just wouldn’t fuck Gary Oldman.)

I also have had many liasons with fictional characters- that's why I read in the tub.

A Short Entry...

One: My boss now knows that I'm bi. That was a fun little conversation.

Queen walked back to my department to show me her new underwear that she was buying (rainbow colored), but I was really busy and not able to pay her the attention she so rightfully deserves when she walks into an area. She usually antagonizes her supervisor at her job, but he's been strangly absent lately, and so she decided to torment mine.

Over the din of people, I heard, "Look at my cute new underwear!" And out of the corner of my eye I saw my boss turn a color that can only be described as fire-engine red and stutter out some reply about how nice they were or something like that.

That night we celebrated Queen's admission into ECU with the Orgazmo drinking game, accompanied by Commentary While Intoxicated starring Trey Parker.

She drank a little too much too fast.

She got sick.

It happens.

Next day my boss and I somehow brought the conversation around to the previous day's conversation between him and Queen, and he asked me how the underwear looked on her.

I felt the following words hit the floor as though they had physical form.

"They look bettter on the floor beside the bed."

THUNK.

I blush, and he gives me the all knowing OMG I KNEW IT look. So now he knows, and still flirts with me. Yesterday his skin brushed my arm and I nearly drenched myself. My hand accidently brushed his crotch and I did drench myself. I had to excuse myself to go clean up.

What am I gonna do when he's gone?


Two: Quote of the day. "I hope I get reincarnated as a siamese cat." Queen:"But that means you'll have to lick yourself clean." Me:"That's okay. You know I like licking pussy."

The Things I Find At ConglomoMart

I was perusing our Home Health Care section the other day and came across the ConAir Touch n' Tone Massager. My back and shoulders had been hurting lately, so I decided to go ahead and buy it. It was only ten bucks.

I brought it home and took it out of the box, and immediately my mind boggled at one of the attachments. It comes with six discs for different massages, but one of the attachments is this soft round point that can only be described as phallic in shape. I went into perv mode, and showed it to Queen- who completely agreed with me. After reading the instructions and making sure that there was no shock hazard or anything like that, I decided I wanted to try it as a sex toy for myself.

I wouldn't exactly call myself a connoisseur of sex toys, but I'm pretty well versed in their use- being single and sad will do that to a girl sometimes. My favorite toy that I own is my Sue Johansen Royal Majesty that I've nicknamed Viktor. He's seen me through some pretty difficult times, and if he were a real man, I'd monopolize all his time.

So I digress. I attached the 'accupressure' attachment to the ConAir- who I think I'll name Nick- and turned it on to it's low setting. It was quite pleasurable. Curiously, I switched it to high.

Wow.

It's not the mind blowing orgasms that King or Queen or even Ace have given me, but it was quite a feeling. I was shaky when I was finished, and just sort of dazed. Who knew that a personal massager from CongolomoMart could work so well?

Flirting Barrier, et al.

So I need to add a new part to my list of people I might want to do: my boss.

That's right, my boss.

Who totally broke the Flirting Barrier today.

I probably don't need to explain the flirting barrier, but I'm going to do it anyway.

The Flirting Barrier is that little area where you KNOW it's wrong to flirt with a person, either due to age or sexual orentation, or-as is my case- it's against ConglomoMart policy.

It all started yesterday, when I went to ConglomoMart to drop Queen off for work at FastFoodLand. We've been sharing a vehicle lately, and I decide to utilize some time to just shop, and enjoy myself for once. I ran into a coworker and we decided to walk around together for a while and scope out the guys (which is why I love living and working at the beach, because most guys here are topnotch and burnished bright brown). The conversation came around to which employees we thought were worth looking out. I, of course, stated that Ace is the best looking guy to me at the store- just like a faithful girl should. Because he is. He's the one guy at the store I want to FUCK my brains out. Not just have sex with me, but to FUCK me until I walk on legs made of jelly and I can't speak. I want him bad. That's a fact that goes without saying most of the time. After stating the obvious, my attention turned to other stockman and my friend Joker, and other people.

Then we take the turn into automotive- my department, where my hot boss is reclining in the office talking to one of the techs. I pick up something that I needed and my co-worker and I continue on our way. Conversation turns to said hot boss. Co-worker says that he's cute. I say, "He's kinda cute." giggle giggle

From behind me, I hear- "Thank you." HOT BOSS WAS RIGHT BEHIND US!!! He heard every word. I turn a furious blushing red and hurry on my way, thinking to myself, "Great! Now I'll never be able to face him at work again."

Today comes. 6-6-6. The end of the world. Also know as the day the Flirting Barrier was broken. It started innocently enough. Queen took me to work, we walked around for a few minutes. I did my daily worship of the Triple H picture over by electronics, and then clocked in for work.

It was sllllooowwwww back in the automotive department. So slow that Hot Boss sent one of the workers home early and some of the techs started complaining that they wanted to go home, too. I was standing maybe a foot away from Hot Boss, and joking with him and the techs when he grabbed this feather duster thing that I usually have attached to my hand (it's a quirk of mine, I can't stand dust) and thrust it in my face, tickling my neck and face with it. I'm extremely ticklish, so I giggled. The techs had by this time made their way back into the shop and Hot Boss and I were quite alone. He reaches out, lightning fast, and draws me close- and then gives me a noogie! I know how silly that sounds, but he at that point broke the Flirting Barrier that I'd set up so carefully. I'm not the kind of person that likes to be touched but by a few people. By touching me, he broke that comfort zone I had- and also bumped himself from kinda cute to totally hot. I felt that old familiar feeling that usually signals having to go to the bathroom to relieve a little stress. I repressed that, and twenty minutes later I was bursting at the seams to tell someone- so I called Queen and let her know.

So now a new facet has been added to the workplace. Me, Queen, Ace, and Hot Boss- all together under the same roof. Will the squishiness ever end?

One thing I have to say...

Listening to King and Queen go at it always turns me on. Always. They're at it right now, and I'm in here at my computer because I'm off limits at the moment... and one thing about Queen is she's never quiet when it comes to sex. I usually am, at least up until recently. I'm learning to be loud. God, I'm so hot... and I can't do anything about it... damn Mother Nature.

Anatomy of a Blowjob

If there's any one thing that I can pinpoint as the pinnacle of my sexual evolution, it's my ability to give a really good blowjob.

I've only just recently learned how to give exceptional head in the last year or so, and my first forays into this particularly tricky part of active sex lives were less than stellar. Accidental scrapings of teeth, a highly sensitive gag reflex, and the inability to breath were all road block on the highway of my sexual achievement.

I remember my initial reaction to being asked to "go down" on my guy at-the-time was, "You want me to put my what where and do- huh-uh, no way, buddy." It took coaxing and a lot of it, and the first time I did it, I honestly felt that I was going to choke or vomit or both. It was a horrible experience for the both of us, and I vowed (to myself, anyway) that I would never repeat it.

I, of course, was lying to myself. I did do it again- after much more begging, pleading, and a few outright threats of withholding sex from me. I got nominally better at it, but I still didn't enjoy it. It was mostly the taste that turned me off of it. I would later learn that all dick didn't that like that- it was just his.

After he and I broke up and I emotionally moved on, I took to sleeping with my new roommate and my best friend, who I will call Ace for the purposes of this blog. Ace taught me many things during my short stay at his apartment and in his bed- one of which was how to give a really fantastic blowjob.

He taught me that the secret of a blowjob wasn't speed or suction, or any of those things you see in really bad downloaded porn, it was the sensuality of it. It had to start at a slow and gentle speed and build to a rising crescendo of passion and heat and need. Once started, no blowjob should ever be left unfinished. It's not fair to either party involved.

A really fine blowjob should end with the man quivering, wanting more but not being able to take it, splayed out, limbs akimbo with a look of muted pleasure etched onto the features of his face.

Of course, the eternal question is: spit or swallow? I personally have found myself unable to swallow as of yet. Maybe one day I will, but for now, it's best for me to have a towel nearby to aid in the cleanup process.

Queen expressed the sentiment the other day that she wants to see me give King a good sober blowjob (that particular phrasing is another story in and of itself) one day. It's a role I'm more than willing to fill- over and over again. I no longer cringe at the idea of having a man's most private part in my hand and in my mouth. In fact, these days I revel in it.

Erector Set, Indeed!

Today over at Eros Blog, there's a mighty fine product being showcased, available from JT's Stockroom.


A little scary, a little interesting, but holy crap, is it expensive.

Evolution of a Tease

I've mentioned that I work at Conglomo*Mart, I believe. I love it there, even if I am feeding this nation's obsession with consumerism.

I now work in the Automotive department, entering cars into our systems so they can get various tire and oil work done to them. It's a job I begged for months to get. I belong in that section of the store, it's where I'm happiest.

Now, in the last six months, I've grown up a lot, and I've learned that men like to look at me. Why, I don't know. I don't consider myself that pretty, and I probably never will. However, I do know that other people do, and I'm not above a promising smile, a flirtatious flick of the wrist while handing a customer their keys, or a provocative lean over the counter while I'm getting their information from them.

I wear mostly long and flowing skirts to work these days because I enjoy the freedom and comfort of them. I have long legs, and pants don't let my stride be as wide as I like it to be. I'm like a gazelle at times.

Let me explain about the tire racks at my store. There's an upstairs and a downstairs. Downstairs is where the smaller tires go- the ones that fit the Geos and the Volkswagens. Upstairs are the bigger tires, the ones that fit normal size cars and the ones that fit the big trucks. Most people that come in, they need tires off the top racks. The flooring of the top racks are metal grating that if you look up you can see right through. Two guesses what that means when I'm in a skirt, and the second guess shouldn't even be needed.

A year ago, six months ago, this would have bothered me. Now, with my newfound confidence levels and a bit of a better body to boot, I revel in it. If the technicians can't control themselves enough not to look up when I'm on the top racks, then they deserve their peek. And maybe, just maybe, the new cute technician will look up one of these days...

Good Morning...

I've taken to sleeping in King and Queen's room most nights. I enjoy the company, and there honestly isn't much worse in this world than having slept every night with someone for the better part of two years, and then not having that person there anymore to warm and share warmth with. Sometimes I think that's all there is to life, the pursuit of warmth.

King and Queen both work for the same company, just in different stores of it. I work at Conglomo*Mart, and Queen's store is in my Conglomo*Mart. We get to see each other fairly often throughout the day, and that cheers me up no matter how bad my day is going. My boyfriend also works at Conglomo*Mart, outside in the lot. He's cool with what he knows of my relationship with King and Queen, and that makes him awesome.

Anyway, I digress. Back to the pursuit of warmth.

Queen had to midshift this morning, because the person who makes the schedules forgot to schedule a midshift manager today. Yay for brains. I had all kinds of plans set up for Queen and I today, starting with waking her up. In my humble little opinion, there's nothing more wonderful than being in that little area between sleep and awake then being pulled into total awareness by the hands of your lover nudging your most sensitive areas. Now it was a moot point, and she had to work.

So she got up and went to work, and immediately, the heat from her body dissapated into the cold air of the early morning. I was covered in a knitted afgan and I could tell a difference almost instantaneously. I wiggled around until I came to rest against King's chest, then fell back into the bliss of dreamless sleep.

Some time later, I was woken by the feeling of King's nails dragging their way down my skin, producing that pleasurable tingle that I love so much. It seemed my plans had gotten turned around on me. No complaints here. Sex is a wonderful thing, but it is nothing without love driving it, and I love King and Queen dearly. They are my best friends, and I know that I am safest when I am with them. They understand my moods, and my needs. I hope things never ever change between us three.

Three Of A Kind beats a pair any day.

Blossoming...

I've been a pretty straightlaced girl all my life, up until now. I never wanted anything more than to have a family and a job that I could be proud of. I thought I had that, but then it all exploded in my face one cold night in November last year.

But that's neither here nor there now. That was the beginning of my sexual re-awakening, and as much as the pain hurts, the pleasure I've derived since then makes it all almost worth it.

I was a good girl. I gave my virginity to the man I planned to marry. Though that fell through, I felt no guilt about it. After we broke up, I looked back on our inept sexual escapades with fond memories and more than a little laughter. Looking back at that girl now, one wonders how she managed to even fit a guy in between her legs, much less have full blown sex with someone. She seems so ill-advised, that little girl of 20 in my mind. Someone should have taught that girl a thing or two about masturbation before she ever let a guy touch her.

It's funny that I've started this blog tonight- with the sounds of King and Queen pounding away in their room. I envy those two. They've been together forever, it seems, and their relationship is the strongest thing I've ever seen. The secret to it seems to be the open policy they have- which is where I come in. I'm Queen's girlfriend- since about a week ago. I'm completely new to this whole bisexual thing, and I surprised myself when I found out that I liked it. I'd always thought of myself as a straight girl, without even an inkling of thought about that kind of thing. I certainly didn't think I had that in me. Bisexuality was always Queen's territory. I'd joked around and said that if anyone was going to turn me, it was going to be her, but I was never serious about it.

Until April 28th, that is.

That was the night EVERYTHING changed for me.

Three double shots of Jose Cuervo brought the gay out in me. One minute I'm going down on King's magnificent, glorious cock, and doing a damned fine job of it, the next the room is spinning, and I'm done. After watching two of our other friends go at it, Queen gets up from her position on the couch and proclaims that she's going to bed, and who's coming with her? In my golden haze, I feel myself crawl on hands and knees through our kitchen and into their bedroom. Next thing I know, I'm being introduced to the concept of straight up lesbian sex. No man involved. I'm being stroked and rubbed, and I was practially purring in her hands. Before I knew what I was doing, I was reciprocating with fervor. I was, in Queen's words, a natural. I petted and stroked all the right places, and making her come as I did. It was wonderful. As I drifted off to sleep that night held in my best girl-friend's arms, my last thought was, "I wonder if I could do that sober..."

Of course, now I know that I can.

Welcome

Welcome to Three Of A Kind, a weblog documenting the sexual evolution of me, Krysta.


Why's it called Three of A Kind? Mostly because there are three of us in my household; me, Queen, and King. The three of us have been friends since high school, and have grown together as people through marriages, break ups, suicide attempts, and general strife.


I'll do my best to make this blog interesting, and it should be, considering how my brain works.