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Sat Sex Shopping and Dark Theaters
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Posted:Jul 29, 2010 7:11 am
Last Updated:Feb 8, 2014 1:23 am
19560 Views
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It was a toss up. Was I more worried about my personal safety or something happening to my car? I wasn't sure. My friend assured me I'd be okay. What does she know; she doesn't even live here. I looked in my mirrors and re-checked the area around me before I opened the door and stepped onto the street.
Patricia's was the name of the sex store. We walked inside. The store was smaller than I expected. Two others were inside--an employee and a young latino guy. Slow night, I guessed, for a Sat. Behind the counter stood Ella the clerk. She wore a baggy collared shirt, "Patricia" embroidered high above her left breast. She introduced herself, and I shook her hand and told her our names. Ella wasn't intimidating, and we both felt comfortable asking her anything. She told us to take our time and browse; she gave us space, but was easily summoned if we needed anything.
What is it about walking into adult stores? No one wants to be seen walking in or out, and you wonder if the men are creepers, regular guys, or sex addicts once you're in. Anyway, Ella was sweet. The Latino guy seemed more interested in their DVD library than what two, forty year olds were surveying. After about 10 minutes, Ella offered to power up the vibrating toys we'd chosen. I noticed a dispenser of anti bacterial jelly displayed near her credit card machine. The germ-a-phobe in me cringed at the thought of who groped the dildo I was about to buy---ick.
Initially I thought Ms. Ella was disabled. Her hair needed recoloring badly. Maybe she was at the point in life, choosing to wear it in it's natural state---lifeless and gray. It was long for an older gal; parted in the middle and thoughtlessly pulled back in a ponytail; she seemed misplaced, since she wasn't the typical clerk you'd find cashiering at a sex shop. Not the type that would attract men or encourage loitering. But was she older? Maybe not. If she was in her sixties, she looked great for her age. Impossible to say if her rode-hard weathered look was from drugs, a hard life or from her natural right of passage. I sensed she had a gentle way about her; and the longer we spoke, the more charming she seemed. I briefly wondered if she had someone nice to go home to. Does working as librarian at a sex shop mean she's a talented lover?
"Are you ever afraid being in here by yourself?" I asked. She said, "Yes. Now and then, but there's a guard that comes at the end of my shift, he'll be here soon". This wasn't a safe intersection. Lots of shootings in South St. Louis lately. I walked to the door to check on my car; my friend continued browsing.
The 20 something latino guy was still crouched on the floor. He crawled back and forth in front of the DVD's. I saw him glance over his shoulder a few times to see what we were doing. "Handsome with great broad shoulders" I thought to myself. Briefly I considered unbuttoning his pants. I watched him head for the counter. He bought one DVD and left---barely glancing at me after that. I continued thinking about him for a minute, "too young, and he might not even speak english"... I surveyed the shelves awhile longer before I finally settled on a toy. 8" pink, vibrating, and it wasn't hard plastic like my other one. The sculpted veins might make a difference.
Before handing her my money, my friend asked me to compare the vibration of mine with the one she picked. Ella carefully unwrapped the toys. I stood watching my friend stroke the vibrating cocks. I had an intense urge to put mine back, because of the germ thing. My aversion subsided after I figured out how I'd sanitize it when I got home.
Ella inserted batteries in mine and it danced across the counter. "Here". She handed me a piece of torn register tape. "The guy who left here asked me to give you this". I stared at the paper, it read "cafe eau, 11 pm". Guess he wasn't headed straight home with his new DVD. My friend snatched the note from my hand. "I should have known" she laughed. I'm almost too frightened to get from this adult store to my car ---much less meet a latino guy at this hotel bar called Cafe Eau.
I laughed while announcing to Ella "I'd fuck that young latino guy, but we're meeting some girls at the strip club later". She laughed and said "he doesn't look like your type". Maybe not I thought too. I've never been to a strip club, and although I may not be missing much...I was going tonight--FOR SURE.
"Let's go there, to cafe eau".
"huh" I said
"Lets go meet him" my friend insisted.
"He's WAY too young to even flirt with"
"I'm the guest"
"Yeah" I said "but we're suppose to meet the girls at 12:30."
"are we close" she asked
"sort of." I considered it.
"alright, we'll go for a bit"
...
A man scooted down so we'd have two seats side by side. The dim bar was hopping, the band was on break. We ordered our drinks and got doubles. "Why two drinks" I asked the bartender. "the man over there bought you ladies a round". Half expecting to see our latin friend, I looked to my left. It was an old friend of mine from high school. I hadn't seen John in years. I left my girlfriend to go and say hello as the band started back up. A few minutes later I noticed someone on her opposite side inviting her to the crowded dance area. I couldn't make out if he was attractive, but it appeared she was having fun. Maybe the latino guy? Still haven't seen him.
"Still pretty, aren't you?". "Awww thanks John, you're still pretty too." John tossed back his last swig of scotch and snickered at my sarcasm. "We're going across the hall to the Bistro" he said. "Can't. Sorry. I'm with my friend." He fingered the cubes in his glass and then traced my lips with his chilly finger "It wasn't an invitation, go tell your girlfriend". As if I had to, I got up. My friend seemed too occupied to care where I was off to. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted at her on the dance floor "I'll be at the Bistro across the hall". She nodded and I left.
The bartender was young, but quick to mention he was "into older women". OMG I hate that classification. He told me his girlfriend had moved to Guam a year ago and tonight she'd texted him. He showed me his phone 'decided not to come back' glowed from his phone. I tried cheering him up by insisting he could easily replace her. John seemed preoccupied by whatever was transpiring on his blackberry. We reminisced and caught up on where we'd seen some of our mutual friends. I felt the booze. I was ready to switch to coffee; I didn't want to appear like a middle aged lush or a 20 year old who couldn't handle a few drinks.
The bartender came from behind the bar, placed his hands on my shoulders and spoke quietly in my ear. "How about a movie pass for next time you visit me?". I wasn't sure what he was alluding to, but I watched him head toward the hostess station. He was sexy. Sexy and tempting. He was definitely sad too. What a sucker I am for a sad, lonely guy.
He returned with a half dozen free passes. I thanked him and passed two to John who was now talking on the phone. The bartender quizzed me. "How do you know one another". I told him we were high school pals. "Not together?", he asked. "No, no" I said. John hung up and said "on call tonight, ruins my plans for you". I laughed. "Plans?". "Married and happy, did I mention that?". "I know" he responded. He kissed me tenderly on the lips, "later baby". Feeling inappropriately kissed in public, I sat there quietly for a few minutes. Guess I'd head back into the bar. Or maybe?
"Hey Mr. Bartender, can we get into the threatre through the employee door out there". I pointed at the door. He inspected my chest. His cheeks looked flushed. He re-wiped the smudges from a wine glass before responding. "Only from the hall door. It's locked, but I have the keys". "The movies are over for tonight, and it's dark back there" he said. I touched the screen on my phone, scrolled down to my girlfriend's name and typed 'on break w bartender bb soon'.
"Take me there". He dropped his rag and I followed...
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6
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Rex , rhymes with sex
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Posted:Jul 16, 2010 3:46 am
Last Updated:Dec 30, 2011 8:27 am
17925 Views
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Funny---all the crazy stuff that swims around in my head. Guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you I submitted sketches of something similar to this in school--- lots of years ago. Got an "A" in that class, pretty sure that was the professor who loved breasts as I recall.
Yesterday, while I was inside avoiding the few , and this nearly 150 degree heat index, I read about Rex. Takes us what? Three months to cap our oil spill and only a handful of engineers with 7 million dollars to robotically raise a parapalegic from a wheelchair. Look at the smile on that guys face. Shit. What an enormous day for him.
Err....with half that much money I could assemble a brilliant team of engineers and perfect the robotic penis. That's all I really have to say on natural disasters of both kinds.
Fantasy stewing...stay tuned.
And count your blessings, that you don't need Rex.
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2
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Lost and Found
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Posted:Jul 14, 2010 9:58 pm
Last Updated:Aug 6, 2010 8:50 am
18810 Views
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*twirling my hair*
Now I remember why I still get that occasional pang. The "I-miss-NoStrings for just a second pang".
Where on earth could one find profile pictures like the ones on here? Tonight's "who's online" search:
Man with Guiness tongue, the longest tongue I have ever seen. This does not necessarily mean a guy knows how to use it. Right?
Shirtless men X 10,000, *and I wonder* errr, let the lady take off your shirt dude? don't ruin the fun already? *sigh*
Man in his basement office who's managed to crop out all of his wife but her left foot and her lime green handbag. Incriminating indeed.
Man flanked with two hooters girls---big tipper. Clearly they would not have smiled that big for a few singles.
Older man who appears to be flying a plane wearing white brief underwear---headset dangling from right ear. *just wrong in so many ways*
Man in ill-fitted female lingerie. Tip: wait and reveal the kinky side in email #2 or 3. Realize you can rub a lady the wrong way if you have a nicer ass than her. heh.
Honestly, a current pic in jeans and a t shirt has always left a good impression with me. Ah, but what the hell do I know...
But I'm back blogging tonight. Guess I lied to J. Told him I wasn't going to blog. Mentioned I was popping in for a visit. Suddenly I find myself wanting to type.
It was hot as a damn firecracker today. If the heat doesn't melt my libido, I'll be back.
For now...
Force me to do all the things you've missed.
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16
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Better than sex on a table?
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Posted:Feb 22, 2010 10:12 am
Last Updated:Jul 22, 2010 3:51 pm
18796 Views
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Lots of bedlam going on in my life.
I'm fine, but I'm closely surrounded by a half dozen other crises.
It was a long week, so long that I decided to give myself a night off,
I was at that point ---the moment you want to throw your fists in the air and scream,
"don't be an idiot, you reap what you sow.".
Let me break into spiritual---offer everyone my daily prayer:
Never speak ill of anyone, not immediate or distant family, not of people from past relationships, or anyone newly incorporated into your life. Don't be shaming, demanding, rude or accusatory. Never make unreasonable requests of yourself, or want anything from yourself that you are not willing to offer. Never be impatient with yourself, but seek to be affirming, kind, and light-hearted. Regard all relationships as a treasured gift, love your life and those around you...heh, anyway...
I ate carb laden chips at that mexican joint and gulped down two large strawberry margaritas. Off the lowcarb plan, indeed.
Long hard week, so why let the fun end there, *she told herself*
My spouse invited me to Walmart after our meal.
I don't exactly fear I'll be featured on that "people of" site.
I waved at the security cameras and made the best of *playful* for the sake of all the 24 hour shoppers and/or walmart police.
I'm always flirty with my spouse in public.
He's shy, so I routinely embarrass him. *shrug*
On the way home he told me my indian name should be "constant cock in mouth".
Heh, slightly charming---and he was complaining. *sigh*
Why not live a little, love a little...
When we got home, I coerced him into taking a viagra,
For the first time I popped a half of one.
I'm all for intense moments, right?
Great orgasm. Really great orgasm. Really great end to a crappy week.
How's everyone else doin?
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16
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My Valentine Baby
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Posted:Feb 14, 2010 9:54 pm
Last Updated:Dec 31, 2011 12:13 am
18245 Views
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Forget the slow leak in the back tire
Kiss me
Forget washing the cars today
Kiss me
Forget I asked you if you'd seen the gas bill
Kiss me
Forget worrying if I'm still attracted to you
Kiss me
Forget , the job, the dog's poop, the golf swing
and for gods sakes its just for awhile, please forget your mother
And kiss me.
And since I'm not with you tonight...
The impatience in my tug when I hugged you, remember?
The slurp in my kiss, my smile from across the room...
Remember the crazy nasty things I've whispered in your ear?
Remember that sensation---the drool at the base of your cock, the stroke of my tongue.
Remember my ridiculous laughter, my scent after a shower.
Oh please please remember my sucking your cock with a raging 102 degree fever.
My shudders, your thrusts.
Go ahead now,
Sit up,
Stroke slowly,
Pretend you're reaching between my legs to my wetness,
Close your eyes and remember how divine it was to...
Taste my Valentine baby.
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8
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My *hot* trash guy---Larry.
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Posted:Feb 11, 2010 6:52 pm
Last Updated:Jan 29, 2014 4:52 am
18523 Views
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The guy that picks up my trash is a heck of a nice guy. I know his name. Larry. Other than that, I know very little. Little, in comparison to what he knows about me. He tells me not to worry about hauling my cans to the street..."I got you, don't worry about putting them out". That's what he always says. Several years ago, I wrote his boss; I thanked them for our courteous trash service. The boss seemed pretty shocked. Guess they don't get many 'thank you' calls.
I know what crappy trash service is like, because I had the trash guy from hell at my other house. Larry has my back; he's a delightful guy. At Christmas I bake him his favorite cookies...and I tip him. Maybe he should want to 'take care of me' because that's his job---keep the customers happy. I wasn't raised to expect another person to "do the right/polite/honest thing". Perhaps the tip feels right to me. Perhaps I've learned that expectations breed disappointment. If expectations belong in your life, expect things from yourself. That's always been my rule and motto. But back to Larry and me...
Chances are that you'd think I over-tip Larry at Christmas. *shrug* My suspicions are that the older neighbors around me may give him nothing at all. He has an incredible smile---His teeth are beautiful: big, dazzling, tres-white. He's got a graceful, wide-arched mouth. heh, might make a girl wonder what he's like off the clock. He is also the epitome "clean trash guy", rather oxymoron-ish, ha. So, while Larry has indeed seen me at my best---countless times I've stepped onto the black asphalt runway that looks alot like a regular driveway--- I've tested my "oozy sexy" walk, not actually for Larry, but I think he's caught a glimpse. I may have seen him look once, come to think of it. It's safe to say, and a tad less reassuring, that Larry has also caught me at my worst, heh, and everything in between. That includes me: covered with mud after weeding, covered with grass clippings, covered with oil after sharpening the tractor blade, naked under a thin summer robe, naked under a fat fluffy winter robe, spilling out of a swim suit, down with the flu, crying over who knows what...for over ten years he's watched me, he's prayed for me when I was in the hospital, he's eaten food I've shared with him, frozen lemonade, my famous tuna salad, he's picked me up after I wiped-out on my wet driveway, he's carted my wet boxes and a 200lb. root ball, he's watched my daughters learn drive, seen us through pets, cars, a new roof...He has been in my life longer than some of my friends---my life, from his vantage point, the end of my driveway.
Tuesday, Larry scolded me for not wearing a coat. That was the day I had that winter white dress on---and thought I looked so fucktabulous. That was also the day I lost my watch, which he predicted I'd get back. And I did find it. Last week He rolled my cans back to the house, so I didn't have to. While I was thumbing through the mail out of nowhere he asked me, "are you married?". *pause* "Yeah Larry, I have a husband!". "I've never seen him" was his response. With my hand on my hip I said, "well, I'm not marrying my next husband.". We both laughed and he told me to have a nice day---gleaning his irresistible smile *making me wonder if he had a wife*. And he's not such a stranger; because he's really very important to me. He knows my useless, quirky details: where I get carry-out, that I wash my clothes exclusively in Dreft, my toilet paper brand, my issues with driving on the lawn, hitting the mailbox, my passion for chocolate, mhm, I won't bore you with the list too. Larry knows though.
And Larry didn't know I was married. Funny. Some things you don't get right---from the end of a driveway. I hope I know Larry for a long, long time. Helluva guy.
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10
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"Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands"
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Posted:Feb 1, 2010 5:03 am
Last Updated:Feb 16, 2010 11:02 am
18133 Views
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HUGE shout out to PINK...truly, truly the best Grammy performance I've ever seen. And I wasn't ever that big of a PINK fan. If you missed it, it's worth googlin' "glitter in your hands + pink".
Great lyric, "the breath before the phrase", it's a song you should take to bed with you.  REALLY 
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7
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extreme flattery and pimples
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Posted:Jan 30, 2010 11:55 pm
Last Updated:Feb 14, 2010 1:27 pm
19464 Views
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I watched a near-midget woman with hideously long hair extensions get out of her van and go into QT *its a gas station convenience store if you don't have them in your town*. She came out with a large bag of Doritos and two bottles of Pepsi. Her friend was seated next to her in the passenger seat. Leisurely, they ate their chips and guzzled their pepsis. Occasionally they'd break long enough to suck the orange salt off their stained fingertips. Entertaining here at QT, as usual. Finally the soda bottles were empty. I thought they would be leaving, but the van stayed. I was eating rather slowly, just people watching.
Both beckoning and daring me to look, midget driver's limp pudgy hand dangled from her open van window. On all four of her short, stubby fingers, she wore gold rings. Both hands even. The near-midget driver lit a cigarette. I couldn't see the brand, maybe there wasn't one. A billow of smoke drifted toward my car window. Each long delicious drag seemed to help her, calm her, something. I saw her sink into the seat, stretching. The smoke smelled bad to me, but I left my window open anyway. Maybe her rings were 14KT, yes. They did look real to me. But they were much too small. So small, that they threatened to starve her essential nourishment, sugar and chips. I watched her watching me. Eying my car. Sizing me up.
She said something to her friend about me. Her friend's head bent forward and she stared for a second, two, three, four, five seconds maybe. I took another bite of my bunless smoked sausage. The grease drooled down my fingers. She watched my tongue catch a drip. I felt her eyes on me.
Finally done with the cigarette, she'd certainly leave. They were still in the van when out of the corner of my eye I saw something fly through the air; she had flicked the butt between her thumb and index finger. The cartwheeling butt made it all the way to the sidewalk. heh, nearly hit the hood of my car even. She chuckled, studying me trace its path. Another dainty bite of my sausage, more drooling grease, I used my napkin. More staring back and forth.
The passenger door opened. Finally I got a full-view of her friend, maybe lesbian lover? The friend wore a magenta pink shirt, heavy magenta eye shadow, a magenta headband, black jeans, and bubblegum pink tie dye tennis shoes. Converse of course. I'd never seen magenta eyeshadow on anyone before, not a white person, not in the daytime anyway. It rather resembled an almost-black eye...the final stage where its transitioning between red and bad purple. I wanted to take a picture of her friend, but it was too obvious. And rude.
The magenta pink lady went inside. I was done with my sausage, but I sat there anyway...scrolling through my phone. Watching them really. And whilst she waited for one magenta pink friend, she lowered her visor. Double checking her face in the mirror, she popped a few zits. Oh who hasn't done that, I thought to myself. She was digging in her console for something. At first I thought it was a tube of mascara, or the mascara brush, but no. It was a disposable razor. The lighting was right. Gingerly she shaved a spot under her chin. A few places along her jaw, her upper lip. Was that any different than me masturbating in the car...heh. Heavens I kinda thought so...
The colorful friend finally exited. She had a hard time getting her seatbelt on. Her turn to smoke. I was there to eat, nothing more...if you were wondering why I was there again. Better go wash my hands though. Cheesy greasy. When I got back to my car the van was gone. I drove away. Two stoplights later I spotted a folded piece of paper wedged under my wiper blade.
I considered what she might say before I pulled over. I unfolded it and read:
call me
hot hot lady
xxx-xxxx
And all the sudden I find myself...
just extremely flattered.
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12
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Craving Chocolate
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Posted:Jan 28, 2010 7:12 am
Last Updated:Jan 31, 2010 5:52 pm
19569 Views
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Thanks for stopping by the blog. I hope everyone's weathering the blustering of snow. Since I can't remember the guy's screen name who was looking for a new intro line, I'm hoping he might stumble in here and appreciate the sincerity of my response: "I'll have to think about it and get back to you". Last night I thought of one. This would definitely turn my head: "I don't want any woman I can have". Not a great strategy, mind you, but it's such a terrific line! *she bows*. The word bow is easily misread blow.
I am on a serious quest to remove myself from the "little extra padding" category to the "athletic" category. If I seem unusually testy, edgy, bitchy, or short, tis because in me, 'horny and hungry" begets peculiar behavior. Certainly dousing myself with chocolate syrup, marshmallow cream, and graham crackers is a perfect example. I don't miss the bread or white sugar as much as I miss chocolate. *Shiver* Weight is such a touchy subject. Yet, I like that bigger, stockier type guy...always have.
We like whatever we like, but we almost never like what can be readily had. Wouldn't you agree? And sometimes what can be readily had smells funny.
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23
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s'more of me
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Posted:Jan 25, 2010 9:52 am
Last Updated:Mar 20, 2011 10:52 pm
18957 Views
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By now you should be stuck on me...one way or another.
PS. If you've emailed me and I haven't responded, it's because as a standard member my NoStrings mail is limited to 12 a day. Yes, I'm still "blogging only ".
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18
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Penis-for-a-week and cam snackin'
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Posted:Jan 20, 2010 5:06 pm
Last Updated:Aug 1, 2012 8:53 am
19711 Views
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Friends call us "opposites". heh... I live with my spouse who is "private" about his penis. I'll explain; he doesn't want me to watch him take a leak. He wants the door closed, with me a comfortable distance away.
I'd like to hold it a couple times while he's pissing. Get the feel of it. But I get the same reaction from him every time, he elbows me away. I wonder about my aim...and how it actually feels while he pees. I'm curious about its peeing state ie, less-engorged, limpness, the smoothness, weight, its reaction to my touch. Is that such a strange request? I keep asking him--in a polite, flirty, charming way. "Would you stop. Can I please have some privacy", that's his reaction. *sigh* Frustrating.
Truly I'm not trying to harass him, and I'm definitely not into water play. I have a healthy interest in the human penis...nothing wrong with that, is there? His is on the generous end of average, and I've enjoyed 20+ years figuring out its intricacies---. Anyway, it's beautiful; and even though it's not running like it use to, I do love his penis. Lucky, cuz I'm kinda sure that some women don't even like their husband's. Dozens of my friends...despise sex with their husbands...I don't get that. Anyway, that reminds me of this afternoon's topic: I'd love to be the winner of the "penis-for-a-week" sweepstakes.
Believe me. I'm secure with my gender; however, it might be fun to have a penis for something like 7-days, 7-nights. Long enough, but not too long. How would it feel to carry a package between my legs. Get the whole "tingle" thing. Feel a blow job, penetration, anal sex...morning wood, waddle along ---covering my obvious erection---and to have testicles slapping, dangling, turtling! Don't think for a minute I'd want to trade my own junk, never never ever! I love waking up horny, but as a female I don't routinely discover a raging engorged clitoris when the alarm goes off. Sadly.
Errrrrrrrrr, yesterday I was couped up in an auditorium. No one had a bird's eye view of my laptop screen. I'm on NoStrings thanking my new friend [blog ImitationofDutch] for plugging my blog. I wonder if she 's considered it--- seven days and nights with a penis... What the hell, I'll open a cam, look at one for a sec.
"You're horny" I say to myself. *Double click*, Yeah I'm 21, *Double click on Agree*. Yeah. Now I fully expect to see a guy showing off a hard cock. I open the first cam listed. 100 viewers, and he's got something like a 4.6/5 rating. My face. My face: wide-eyed and stunned. Very fit guy with ass a foot from the camera jams an aluminum baseball bat between his tight buns and spins around. His left arm reaches behind and he ferociously propels it in and out. His right hand pumps, fondles, pauses--- pumps, fondles, pauses.
Momentarily distracted by real life, I see someone passing a handout my way. *close screen*. Another 5 minutes go by and I decide to "sign off" my account, take a break. One last time, I click open the screen. There's the batter, he spews snow white cum into his cupped hand. His dick limp, he licks it off his palm...Ok, whatever. Cam snackin. I like the authentic experience, not watching strangers on cams. If I enjoyed anything at all, it was the expression on his face. *Pause* Fifteen seconds, I look at my screen again, he steps back, dick hard again, bat's going back in. Hit "x". Enough. My oh my. Why do I notice the backdrop is a 's bedroom---two twin beds, room tasteful, very beautifully decorated actually. *She wonders if that's his /'s bat and if he'll wipe it off really well---with Fantastik or something with bleach*. See how I am.
Not my thing I guess...cams. A week with a penis, now I'd sign up for that. Don't let that stick in your head too long. I don't want you picturing me with a log or as some she/he figurine.
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18
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fuck you senseless
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Posted:Jan 18, 2010 10:03 pm
Last Updated:Jul 26, 2012 5:16 pm
18339 Views
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If you find someone lacks liveliness, charm, or surprise. You may yourself be leaning toward arid, aseptic, colorless, drab, dry, dull, earthbound, flat, flavorless, lackluster, lifeless, lusterless, pedestrian, prosaic, spiritless, sterile, stodgy, with an unimaginative, uninspired side.
Since I notice you sometimes have or indicate an awareness of things as they really are: down-to-earth, hard, hardheaded, objective, practical, pragmatic, pragmatical, prosaic, realistic, sober, tough-minded. Oh don't get me wrong, you can be fucking stubborn, borderline jerky if you've had a few drinks.
Yet, you sit there with little or no emotion or expression: dry, impassive, unemotional. I state something that is literally or factually true, as in the records showed it to be a matter of fact that I could win you over, "fuck you senseless". "Fuck you senseless", is that an idiom? OH Gosh, or something you call an anomaly.
That phrase as a matter of fact, as in As a matter of fact, you are absolutely right. Matter of fact was first recorded in 1581, and originally was a common legal term distinguishing the facts of a case from the law, called matter of law, applying to it. It began to be applied to other concerns in the late 1600s.
Tonight it could mean, as a matter of fact this book makes me dizzy and I'd much rather be -- with you.
Doing something some might title dirty.
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To link to this blog (wanderingkiss) use [blog wanderingkiss] in your messages.
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