My sole applicant for the Guest Writer position seeks anonymity, so I suppose she’ll be a ghost writer as well. However, just to set the stage, let me tell you a bit about her.

K exudes an uncommon mix of good old fashioned mama love along with healthy dose of sex appeal. She’s bawdy and spicy and risqué, and kind and warm and beautiful. She has a sharp mind and even sharper wit. She wears a tiara while cleaning her toilet and bought a big ole poufy prom dress ‘just because’. She’s got an entire room in her house devoted to Elvis and she believes wholeheartedly in the superpower endowing properties of her Wonderwoman panties. She’s a princess and a grand eccentric dame. When it was her turn to plan Moms Night Out there was nary a scrapbook or latte to be seen – she brought everyone to a drag show. She’s got a story for every occasion, personality enough for ten women, and is 110% original.

Most of my local readers have already deduced the identity of our mystery writer, but the rest of you should sit up and take notice…

Queen K is in the house.

Good Girl Disclaimer: In the interest of providing fair warning for certain segments of my readership (mainly the the ones that gave birth to me or otherwise had a hand in my upbringing) K is a tad less inhibited than me. I’m just can’t shake my that I’m-a-preachers-daughter-must-be-a-good-girl mentatity. (Can’t even type a swear word. I’ve tried - and I always delete and type ^%$(* instead).

On the other hand, K is planning on covering some adult topics - and I’ve decided not to censor her one little bit, because I don’t believe in messing with another woman’s voice. So, although it made me blush right down to my good girl toes, and I’m expecting some very interesting google hits - here is her first entry in it’s original unedited format. Enjoy…

Losing my virginity, again.

This is the first time I have blogged. Nice to know that it is just a temporary gig while our dear Jeanette is packing & moving. Blogging for the first time is like when I lost my other virginity because both times I had an audience.

When I lost my other virginity I was 18 years, 1 month, and 6 days old. And it was every girl’s dream come true….

There were four of us drinking in the desert that Saturday night, Rene DeLaCruz, Ray Mitchell, a girl we called Wednesday (real name was Susan Something-or-other), and me. It wasn’t exactly a double date because Ray wasn’t into Rene but some other guy on the wrestling team, Wednesday was into me but I didn’t know it, I didn’t know if Rene was into anyone but another friend of mine had lost her virginity to him the year before, and I was totally into another friend not out drinking that night, Mark, who was totally into Ray. After about eight bottles of Boone’s Farm between the four of us it didn’t matter any more who was into whom.

Suddenly (ok, maybe not so suddenly but I’m skipping the part of the story where we were racing in the desert and decided clothes were slowing us down) Ray and Wednesday were making out and Rene and I were making out. I decided plain old making out just wouldn’t do. I got down to some heavy duty begging. Rene was either being a gentleman or really didn’t want the pressure of fatherhood because he was really insisting on “protection.” Only made me want him more.

We got into the truck and drove a little ways to a generic looking, still far into the boonies convenient store. Convenient, my ass! They didn’t even sell condoms! We had made Wednesday go in and ask. We drove a little closer into town and found a Circle K. Wednesday went in with all the change we had scrounged up and came out with a grin, announcing, “I got ribbed for HER pleasure!”

Maybe it was fear that we would all sober up if we drove back out into the desert, but we just drove behind the Circle K. Ray and Wednesday continued making out—even after one of them threw up, and Rene and I did IT. What a tiny penis! Not teeny tiny, but longish and skinny! It was just like Rene, and just like his hands so I guessed that whole look at their hands thing was true. We were having some difficulty with positioning because we were in a tiny truck with a stick shift and my leg kept hitting the radio controls—shooting up the volume at odd moments. It took FOREVER. If I knew then what I know now I think I would have nixed his idea of wearing two condoms at once (he was really afraid of unwanted pregnancies, but it’s not like doubling up helped out with his pencil dick issue).

At one point I remembered my friend Ray standing over me. He had lost his buzz and was getting cold. He wanted the jacket that was under me while I was trying to get laid. I don’t remember how much longer the whole thing lasted, but it seemed like a long time and not once was it so great that I wanted it lasting close to as long as it did. When it was finally over the bastard stepped outside of the truck and announced, “She wasn’t a virgin!” I’ll never know if he thought I wasn’t as “tight” as virgins were supposed to feel or because I didn’t just lay there for my first lay. I never asked and we never did it again. I got it out of the way and that was good enough.

Getting it crossed off my Things To Do List was one of the biggest differences between losing my two virginities. At 18 I was afraid that I would die the other kind of virgin. I wasn’t afraid I would die without ever having blogged. I didn’t have all these weird scenarios in my head where I was at the bank when it was robbed and I had to ask a robber to please let me blog him before he killed me or asking the ambulance driver after a horrible accident to please let me blog him before I died of my internal injuries. I’m still glad to be rid of this virginity. I just hope you call me tomorrow.