smutpress suggestion: vynl
For when your slutty adventures get too much to handle, head on over to this super sparkly, super fun restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen for the most amazing burgers, macaroni and cheese and of course, MARGARITAS! If you’re pressed for time, just stop by the bar and grab one of the frozen margaritas (mango’s my favorite) or “the vynl”, a delicious watermelon confection that I often grab during sloppy, drunken lunches. There are two other locations, but my favorite is the one on the corner of 54th St. and 9th Ave. Enjoy!
a promotion is in order
So I’ve finally acheived a long awaited goal in my career. No, I didn’t get a promotion or a raise–I fucked my boss instead. This is the story of how I secured my place in my company without actually having to put any more effort in to my actual job.
Yesterday afternoon, I was supposed to meet up with the regional manager of my store, two of my coworkers and Eric for an early dinner celebrating our past month of stellar sales (See? I contribute to productivity!). In flirty text messages back and forth between Eric and I, we decided to meet up before because of my inability to navigate my way around Brooklyn (Manhattan is more my territory). I arrived at his apartment almost expecting something to happen and had prepared myself by wearing my cutest underwear and arriving a solid 45 minutes early. It was on like Donkey Kong.
Within five minutes of me arriving at Eric’s apartment, we were making out on his worn in leather couch and ripping off each other’s clothing. Holy shit. I am screwing my superior! Amazing.
Well, it was for the first few minutes anyway. After the novelty of fucking my boss began to wear off, I began to take the situation for what it was: I was sleeping with my almost 30 year old boss on a couch…in an apartment that he shared with his girlfriend. And he was also a bunny fucker, jackhammering away. Not appealing. After 7 unsatisfying minutes of this, I realized that he was expecting some sort of vocalization of my satisfaction…so I faked it. I mean there was no way I was going to be able to finish with a framed picture of this fool’s girlfriend ten feet away. Thankfully, not much after my “performance”, he was done with his. It was over at last! Praise Jesus.
Okay. With not even 15 minutes to get myself together, Eric and I had to throw our clothes back on and run. To a company dinner. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t until we arrived at the restaurant and I caught a glimpse of myself in the restaurant lobby mirror that I realized what a mess I actually was. Anyone who believes that after-sex hair is appealing is seriously fucking deranged. It is not.
I looked what I like to call “a hot-ass mess”. My hair was messy, partially tangled and altogether horrifying. My eyeliner was smudged and not in the smoky eye way–it was more of the morning-after-prostitute way. I also caught a whiff on myself of a scent I lovingly refer to as “eau de WHORE”. This is absofuckinglutely the LAST time I go to any work function after having sex with my boss! I can only take this as an opportunity to learn! Or at least next time I should bring a comb and body spray to my next rendez-vous.
Moral of the story: It’s probably not the best idea to screw your boss. On the plus side, in today’s shaky economy, a girl can’t do enough for job security.
new reason to go to class?
I rolled my ass out of bed this morning to go class, not expecting more than an hour long lecture on…whatever the hell my class is about. While scanning the classroom, my eyes still only half open, I perked up when I noticed someone that grabbed my attention. There he was: Super Hot Black Guy, the new love of my life. Or at least this semester.
Suddenly completely awake, my eyes scanned him, sitting two seats away, from head to toe. Chocolatey skin, delicious lips, musicular chest and…OH MY GOD. With his legs crossed in my direction and his somewhat thin sweats you could see (through his pants!) that Super Hot Black Guy was PACKIN’! Not only was he articulate and delicious, but he is helping to perpetuate the sterotype that black guys are just…bigger. I’ve decided that he is my new goal for that class; by May I plan on fully having studied his anatomy. This morning is looking better already!
how i climbed my way up the corporate ladder
So, several days ago, my streak of being “unslutty” was finally broken thanks to a very inappropriate liason with someone at work. This hookup included three things: me, my assistant manager at work, and the stockroom of the boutique I work at. My manager, Eric, and I have had an extreme flirtation for the entire time I’ve been working at the store. Last Monday afternoon, it finally amounted to something.
I had been away on vacation for the past two weeks and strolled into work, looking tan, feeling good about life…sex was absolutely NOT on my mind. Well, it barely was.
Eric, the assistant manager of the store, is a solid 10 years older than me, blonde, tall and way past the line of “professional”. When I showed up at work, he was flirtier than usual…telling me how much he “missed me while I was away”, touching my arm…the whole “come-hither” deal. Though hooking up with a superior at work has always been a fantasy of mine, I never thought it could happen for real. That is, until I went to the caverns of our stockroom to find that pair of silver shoes in a size 7.
Several moments later, Eric followed me into the backroom. To get past me in the super cramped space, Eric had to come a little bit closer than I’m sure is acceptable in our employee handbook. He paused right in front of me for a second, licked his lips and went in for mine. HOLY SHIT MOTHERFUCK!!!!!!! We were suddenly hardcoremaking out. I was pushed against a rack of clothes and his hands were making their way from the small of my back to the back pocket of my Cheap Mondays.
OH MY FUCKING G-O-D! I could not for a second believe that I was actually making out with Eric, the guy that I spent most of my time at work thinking about, rather than actually helping customers. This is the single best thing that has happened to me professionally. Suddenly, we heard the door to the back room creak open. Goddammit! We jumped apart seconds before Emily, my annoying ass coworker caught us.
“So, uh, Eric, let me know if you can’t find that, uh, dress. Yeah,” I managed to mumble, before making my exit. Not too stealth, I know. Whatever.
The rest of the day flew by with a neverending stream of customers generally being assholes, which didn’t really give me a chance to register what had happened until I got back to my apartment. There are several very obvious problems and complications that go along with having hooked up with Eric
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He is older. At least old enough that some of my friends would not approve.
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He is my boss. This little stock room action might not look too great at my three month review. Fuck.
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There is one detail I forgot to mention. He has a girlfriend…that he lives with…who I’ve met. Fuckity fuck fuck.
Okay, so this isn’t the most ideal situation, but I haven’t exactly decided how I feel about things, or how I’m going to proceed. There is one upside: work just got infinitely more interesting!
UPDATE: I asked my friend, DJ over margaritas for advice on the whole deal and this is our conversation went (as far as I can remember after three drinks):
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Me: So. You know my boss, Eric? I made out with him.
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DJ: Shit. Oh, well. It was a matter of time.
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Me: He has a girlfriend. Does that make me a whore?
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DJ: No, I don’t think that makes you a whore. [Pause] It makes you fun!
Friends. How could you get through life without them?
welcome to my world of smuttiness
Hello all! I’ve created this blog as a way to recount some of the more ridiculous situations a girl can come across while drinking their way across the island. Manhattan, that is.
I’m young. Really young. (I’m legal, don’t fucking worry!) I’ve never met a margarita or a hot guy I didn’t like and often don’t mind mixing these two favorite pasttimes. Though most college girls will lie to you and tell you they’re looking for love, I’ll lay it all out on the line for you right now: we’re really just looking for fun. While most girls will say that they’re looking for someone to cuddle with and watch reruns of the OC, I’ll tell you the truth. I’m looking for someone to buy me five cosmos and as one of those Flavor of Love girls put it: “fuck me proper!” (No, I don’t really use that phrase in everyday life!)
While searching for this knight in shining armor to save me from all the hipster boys who just want to discuss “feelings”, I plan on letting you all in on the secret to smutiness–the highest compliment, of course.
So, that brings me to my promise for this blog. I promise to be fun. I promise to be smutty. But most of all , I promise to be honest as fuck. I know you can handle it! 
