Cockblockers and the DG of the DG

Cockblockers and the DG of the DG

Ok, I’ll let you guys know form the start there’s no sex in this entry. So you can tune out now if that’s what you’re here for.

There are a few things I want to discuss today. Namely: Cockblockers, irrational jealousy, drunken mistakes & this new URL.

I’m not sure where to start? This is a bit of a concentric story. Well, perhaps not concentric, but somewhat self-referential. Hopefully you’ll find it interesting, nonetheless. In the end, it all leads to why I switched URLs.

So in a very roundabout way here I go.

My work bores shitless. I don’t hate my job per se, I just hate the project I’m working on. I’ve been producing this World War II documentary for about 6 months. Three months pre-production and three months actual production. It looks like there’s three more weeks left of production. Most of the production involves interviewing veterans and present-day military strategists; getting their perspective on the war. Additionally, I’ve started research and pre production on a reality TV show that we’ve obtained the rights from a cable network in the US. Balancing both projects has been quite difficult. Or rather, balancing both projects and having a full social life has been quite difficult.

The documentary is based off a book, a former best seller. I have to correspond with the author on a regular basis. The author is okay. I don’t mind dealing with him. His assistant, on the other hand, is a huge bitch and usually I have to deal with her.

It was probably the least desirable out of all the projects that were up for grabs. I am sort of doing it as a favor for CS. If you’ve been keeping up with my entries here you’ll know that CS is my boss. I want to shag him. I think he wants to shag me. He’s ten years older than me. Married. Kids. Executive producer by day. Crossdresser by night.

His secret fantasy is to fuck me while wearing a skirt. And you know what? That doesn’t even weird me out. I’m into that. I would do it. I would get down on my knees lift up his skirt and give him the blow job of his life. OK, I wouldn’t swallow, but it would still be good.

At first I was really freaked out about all of this cross dresser thing, but now that I’ve had months to think about it. I dig it. I mean, I don’t necessarily want to be a cross dresser, but I do feel that it would be so kinky to shag him while he’s in drag. There’s something about androgyny that appeals to me in Marc Bolan / David Bowie ala Ziggy Stardust type way.

But back to my boring job. I want out. My contract expires in a few days. The documentary isn’t complete. Most likely my contract will be extended. Still, I’m looking for other opportunities.

There’s an executive producer position that just opened up in another department. I want that job. It would be a bit of a stretch for me, since I’m perhaps on the junior level, but still I want to go for it. The guy that’s the head of the department is a buddy of mine. I’m not assuming that that it’s a foregone conclusion that I get this job, but I’ve got a pretty good chance. I’m putting my best assets forward. If you know what I mean. ;-)

I call this department head, the DG because he has a vague resemblance to Mr. Best-shag-ever. DG, of course, being short for doppelganger. Yes, I realize the irony and perhaps my incorrect use of doppelganger. How can someone with a “vague” resemblance be a ghostly double? Well, I suppose I am trying to be funny. Anyhow, the more I got to know Mr. Best Shag Ever the more I realized that he didn’t actually look that much alike the DG. They did have similar styles and a similar look.

The freaky thing is, that guy D. the one I met at the hotel a couple weeks ago. The one I thought was so hot. He is the doppelganger of the doppelganger. The DG of the DG. He’s the fucking splitting image of the DG. I think that’s why I like him.

Fooling around with D was weird and amazing because he looked uncannily like the DG. It felt so wrong yet felt so right at the same time. In thinking about it a few days later, being with D made me realize that I actually have some feelings for the DG. I reluctantly admitted to myself, that I fancy him. But I fancy him in a very different way than CS.

I just want to shag CS. It’s the curiosity factor. It’s the power trip. I wanna know what it’s like to shag the boss. I want to revel in the power. I want to be kinky and submissive with him. The DG, however, is the sort of guy I could fall in love with. He is real sweetheart. We once kissed after work drinks. This is months ago. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. He catches the train from Charring Cross I catch the train from Leicester Square. I once made up an excuse that I had to take a train from Charring Cross just so I could walk with him.

We were waiting on the same platform for separate trains. I was slightly intoxicated. I think he was too. We kissed on the lips. It was simple. No tongue involved. I pulled away, he pulled me back and we kissed again. This is etched in my mind.

We’ve had a few naughty chats on the instant messenger, but nothing else physical besides the kiss has emerged.

Nothing else will happen because he’s married. I respect the fact that he’s married. I wouldn’t try anything on with him unless he pursues me. I know, however, that won’t happen. He is very much in love with his wife and very happy in his marriage. I don’t want to break that up.

I suppose I should respect CS's marriage and not fool around with him. I guess the difference in my mind is that CS obviously has secrets from his wife already. And if I were his wife I’d much rather hear that he was having an affair rather than he’s a closeted cross-dresser who's ex was a suicidal transvestite. Some things just go down better than others.

Oy Vey. Married guys are trouble.

So last Friday was work drinks. CS was in Prague. Lots of people from work were down in the bar. I ended up chatting to CS’s boss for a long time. I also managed to down 3 white wines way too quickly. While I was doing that, I failed to notice that a young freelance production assistant had been talking to the DG. This freelancer is Australian, round faced and was showing plenty of cleavage. That’s the DG’s thing. He loves tits. He loves my tits. He loves anyone who has sort of biggish tits. My goal for Friday night was to walk with the DG to Charring Cross; Ask him what my chances are for this job; flirt with him; see if we could reproduce that kiss.

He just isn’t in the pub all that often so I was determined to talk to him tonight; or at least let my breasts do the talking. Everything would have gone as planned but that Australian chick cockblocked me. I ended up walking to Charring Cross. The DG and the Aussie walked to Leicester Square together. The awful thing was, I didn’t even need to go to Charring cross. I was just going there as an excuse to walk with the DG. God, why do I bother?

I waited on the train platform for him, but never showed. I even intentionally missed a train, hoping to see him. He must have taken the tube and gone home the long way. It just sort of gets my goat that all the times I’ve walked to Leicester Square never once did he go out of his way for me. Oh God, I’m being so petty. Logically, I am acutely aware that this is not even worth worrying about, let alone writing a blog entry. But emotionally I feel hurt.

Anyhow I was drunk. I went home. Saw CS online. Started talking to him. I know, drunken instant messaging is always a bad idea. I told him about the cockblocker situation. He knows I fancy the DG. Similarly the DG knows I fancy CS. I love playing them off each other. Yeah, I’m a bitch.

CS was curious why I wanted to see him dressed as a woman. He thought that I fancied manly men. Then he accused me of liking a guy at work. But not just any guy at work. The same guy at work who replied to my ad; hereafter known as the Reply Guy

Apparently CS has seen the way that I look at the guy at Reply Guy. So does that mean CS is looking at me look at other guys? How weird?

So while I’m messaging CS, the DG pops on instant messenger. Crazy. I literally have not seen him on instant messenger in 3 months! So he pops up on the instant messengers. It’s crazy because I’m instant messaging them both at the same time. Neither one of them know. The last time something like that happened was in Prague, the night CS and I first kissed. I went back to my hotel room. Even though I was dead fucking tired I turned on my laptop as soon as it booted up the DG was instant messaging me. He was asking me how my night went. It was crazy. Less than 5 minutes ago I was snogging CS.

Anyhow, the DG wanted to know that I got home okay. Then he told me it took him ages to get home. Of course it took him ages. He took the long way home. He said he was really tired. Even too tired to look at porn. Crikey! That must be pretty tired.

So I got pretty confused since I was drunk and chatting to both CS and the DG. At one point I was talking to both of them about lingerie. It was pretty confusing, but v v good for my ego. Then I didn’t feel so bad that the Aussie Cockblocker got to walk back to the tube with the DG.

I told CS that I don’t fancy the Reply Guy. The Reply Guy is just a mate. Then in my inebriated state I e-mailed Reply Guy’s reply -- you know, the reply where he offers to eat my pussy -- I acutally e-mailed that to CS. This is why I'm not in Mensa. I also forgot that in the signature of my e-mail there’s a link to my blog. If CS clicked on the link he would have seen all the text messages he sent me on my blog. I therefore immediately took down everything on my blog that referenced CS.

And that’s why I’ve changed blog address. I dunno if CS will even click on the link, but I figure why take a chance?

I sincerely hope you weren’t too bored by that long-winded conversation. If you ever fancy a drunken instant message conversation with me. I’m on MSN: naive_lodnon_girl@msn.com