I couldn’t sleep last night and I was so bored at around 3:30 that I went to get out my bunny vibrator for some fun. After looking for about 10 minutes I concluded that I left the bunny in Vermont last weekend. There’s no way I’m calling the lodge telling them to look for it to see if it‘s there b/c that’s just embarrassing, but I’m so pissed. I have other vibrators but I’m still sad because this one was so damn cute.

So what did I do? I made a booty call. All the way to Brooklyn. This wouldn’t be so bad on a Friday or Saturday night, but at 3:30/4 on a Tuesday, technically Weds. morning, it’s beyond ridiculous. I woke the boy up and told him to come to my apartment and “fill me”. (Yes, I was on something at this point. ) It worked though. He came over and I got the late night sex that I craved, and yes, it was good. He always is.

The sick part: I don’t feel bad about calling him at a ridiculous time (4 AM) and making him travel 15 minutes. I would feel bad for anyone else, but I doubt that I would ask this of anyone except for him. This is a guy who had me take a car service to a different state at a ridiculous time (he paid, I wasn‘t giving $200 just to see him and his band mate pass out within 20 min of my arrival), and is the only guy that I’m doing that doesn’t live in Manhattan. I have to take the 1 train to the L, and the L train to the other side off the river just to see him. Usually my fucks are within a 5 min train ride. I think that we have an understanding that this type of unacceptable behavior is OK, which makes him my favorite booty call. Oh, and he’s hot too, which helps, and is also kinda famous, but I don’t like thinking about that, otherwise I’ll get kinda nervous.