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I went to a secondhand shop today, and I found a sweater that matched my pair of giant fuzzy knee-high pink striped socks.
Yeah, I'm pretty cool.
Aside: "Dr. Awkward" is a palindrome.
She smiled at me from across the room. Why would a girl who looks like that be interested in me?... I looked at my friends, but none had even noticed her. I looked back at her, and she smiled again.
I smiled back at her awkwardly; I'm not the most confident guy when talking to attractive women. She beckons me with her finger. Me?... I gesture, pointing to myself. She laughs and nods her head.
"My friends probably won't even notice I'm gone," I think to myself as I walk slowly across the crowded room.
"Hi," I say nervously as I reach her. "I'm Steve."
"Hello Steve, I'm Samantha," she replies. "I love your blouse," she tells me as she runs her hand over my chest. "I love a man in satin. There aren't many men who can pull off wearing satin, but it looks good on you."
"Thanks," I reply. "My sister bought it for me," I tell her, instantly kicking myself. Damn it... Why did I tell her I was wearing a shirt my sister had bought me?... I feel like a fool.
"Well, your sister has good taste; I like her already," said Samantha with a smile, still running her hand all over me.
Despite my nervousness and lack of confidence, I found Samantha really easy to talk to; she quickly made me feel at ease.
I glance across the room to where my friends are standing to see them watching me and laughing.
After chatting with Samantha for about an hour, we shared a long, intimate kiss. I can't believe I've pulled the hottest girl at the party, but my friends seem extremely amused and can't stop laughing as they watch Samantha and me.
"Will you excuse me for a moment?" I ask Samantha. "I need to speak to my friends."
"What's so funny?" I ask them, annoyed. "I pull the hottest girl at this party, and you all can't stop laughing."
"You do realise that's a dude?" one of my friends replies.
"WHAT?" I ask, shocked. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"She is a he; it's a dude," my friend repeats.
I look across at Samantha. She is absolutely stunning. She has the sweetest smile and the sexiest come-to-bed eyes I've ever seen. She has a body to die for, and I love how she is dressed.
She is so easy to talk to; she makes me feel at ease. She makes me laugh. She is perfect in every way.
I've only known her for an hour. We shared a kiss, and it was a great one at that. I'm already smitten.
"So she has a penis?" I ask my friends.
"I don't know... I guess so... Maybe... maybe not... All I know is that she was a he, and now he's a she," said one of my friends.
"You know what?... I don't care. If that makes me gay, then I'm gay. But I know one thing for sure: she is beautiful."
I push my way through the crowd back to Samantha as she smiles at me once again. I put my arms around her and pulled her close to me. Then I give her the most passionate kiss ever.
It was getting late; the party was winding down, and people were starting to leave. I had spent most of the night with Samantha, mostly talking, with a fair bit of smooching.
I offered to drive Samantha home; to be honest, I was so annoyed at my friends that I just wanted to get out of there. As we were leaving, I was surprised that one of my friends came over and apologised, not only to me but also to Samantha. I was even more surprised when he hugged Samantha, gave her a peck on the cheek and told her how much he admired her.
I didn't say much as I drove Samantha home; I was too preoccupied with what my friends had told me about Samantha. Samantha also seemed a little uncomfortable; perhaps she didn't feel safe now that she was alone with me.
"Are you okay?" I asked her as I drove.
"Ah, huh," she replied, nodding and smiling. "You?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," I told her.
I took hold of her hand to make her feel more at ease; she smiled sweetly, then snuggled up closer to me.
The drive back to Samantha's must have taken about 45 minutes, and we had barely spoken the whole way home.
I parked up outside her apartment block and turned to look at her. Her beauty took my breath away; I was smitten.
"Samantha, this has been such an amazing night; meeting you is like I'm in a dream where I never want to wake up," I told her.
"Oh, Steve, that's such a lovely thing to say. I feel the same way," she replied.
"I don't care what my friends think or say about you. You were by far the hottest girl at the party. I feel fortunate that you chose me to speak with, although I have no idea why. You could have had any guy you wanted. I would love the chance to get to know you better," I told her.
"I chose you because you looked so pretty in your gorgeous blue satin blouse. I love a confident man; not many men would look as good as you wearing a satin blouse."
I admit it's a little unusual to see a man wearing satin. Still, I was somewhat bemused that Samantha kept referring to my shirt as a blouse. No one had ever called me pretty before, but the fact that she liked my satin shirt made me feel good.
I told Samantha about my work outing at The Royal Albert Hall on Saturday night. "It will be a very special night, and I need a very special girl to accompany me. I would be honoured if you would be my date," I told her.
"Yes, I'd love to," replied Samantha, flinging her arms around me and kissing me with much pent-up passion. We spent the next thirty minutes just kissing and cuddling; she even told me she loved me.
Saturday night arrived; I drove to Samantha's apartment to pick her up. I had told her to dress elegantly, but nothing too formal. My greatest fear was that she would wear something too slutty that would not go down well with my boss. When I saw Samantha appear in a short red leather skirt and a navy satin blouse, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I stood open-mouthed, staring in awe at this beauty walking toward me. The way her breasts filled that gorgeous fitted satin blouse, jiggling gently, making the shiny satin material ripple and shimmer. Her waist looked so tiny, and those sleeves... oh, those gorgeous puffy sleeves. Her hips swayed gently in her tight leather skirt as she placed one foot in front of the other, like a catwalk model. OMG...
I could feel myself getting an erection as I watched her coming toward me; it was as if everything had slowed down and was moving in slow motion. Then I noticed her smile, her gorgeous, beaming smile... and her eyes, those gorgeous, dark brown eyes that draw you in and make you weak at the knees.
"Hi, handsome," she said, kissing me passionately, standing on tiptoes.
The kiss suddenly brought me back to reality. "Wow, you look stunning," I said.
"Thank you, and you look very pretty in your suit and white satin blouse," she replied.
"Pretty?... Blouse?... There it is again," I thought, bemused... I said nothing.
As we drove to The Royal Albert Hall to meet up with my colleagues from work, I repeatedly glanced across at Samantha, finding it hard to take my eyes off her. Samantha warned me on more than one occasion to keep my eyes on the road. I jokingly made some cheeky comment about seeing the outline of her bra under her blouse. Samantha teasingly replied she was wearing a red silk bra and panties to match the colour of her skirt, and if I was a good boy, I might get to see them later.
Upon arrival, we met up with my boss and work colleagues in the foyer. Most of the men were accompanied by their wives or girlfriends; a couple had come alone and were looking to hook up. I introduced Samantha to my boss, and he wasted no time hugging her, a gesture that was a little too friendly for my liking. He said something to her that I couldn't quite hear and squeezed her bum. Then his hands ran up her back, and I'm sure he was about to squeeze her breasts as Samantha pulled away and turned towards me.
Most of the men made a pass at Samantha at some point during the evening. I may have mentioned that I had only recently met her, and therefore, they assumed she was fair game. A few had even tried to grope Samantha.
My boss continually tried his luck even though he was with his wife, who I must admit, was a beautiful woman for her age. At one point, my boss had his hand up Samantha's skirt; Samantha didn't make a fuss. I'm not sure if Samantha was being polite for my sake or if she genuinely enjoyed the attention she received. Samantha looked across at me with a puzzled look on her face. What was I supposed to do?... He was my boss; I didn't want to make a scene or risk losing my job. Did Samantha expect me to defend her honour?... I was more curious about what my boss might find up Samantha's skirt and how he would react. My boss's wife didn't seem to care about her husband's behaviour, and at one point, I'm sure she tried flirting with me. On the other hand, the other wives and girlfriends were not so friendly or forgiving.
After two of the wives followed Samantha to the ladies' room, I have no idea what occurred. However, Samantha spent the rest of the night clinging to my arm.
Samantha told me to find a quiet place to park on the drive home. Things went considerably further than just kissing and cuddling.
"I belong to you now," she said. "You can do whatever you want to me, and I won't stop you."
WTF?...
Samantha gave me a fantastic blow job, and I got to see her without her blouse. Her tits were amazing, but I couldn't quite bring myself to explore any further. What my friends had told me was still playing on my mind. I wasn't sure how I would react if it were true.
----------------
Samantha's Point Of View.
I'd had my doubts about going to this party; going out as Samantha, as a girl, was exciting but very daunting.
At the last party, I'd got friendly with a couple of guys; I wasn't looking for romance or a date, just a chance to meet a few guys, as a girl, a young lady.
I thought all was going fine until a third guy (Gary) turned up. I knew him from college and realised he had recognised me, despite my makeover and pretty floral dress. Gary knew me as Sam. He liked to tease me, calling me pretty Sam. I knew he'd let the cat out of the bag.
Sure enough, "Sam, why are you pretending to be a girl?... Guys, this is Sam, a guy from college." My cover was blown.
That was a while back. My medication, longer hair, and newfound self-confidence meant I was more determined tonight. At this party, things would be different. I'd had a few drinks for Dutch courage and felt good about myself when I saw him, this gorgeous guy over the other side of the room.
He turns and faces me; our eyes engage. He stares, so I smile nervously, but yes, I smile. He looks away but can't resist looking again; this time, I give him a seductive smile. He's nervous but adorably shy; he turns to the guys behind. Oh no... it's them; please don't say they're his friends. As he turns back, I beckon him over.
I crook my finger and beckon him, but he's not sure I mean him. He looks around; no one else is aware, so he points at himself to ask if I mean him. Silly boy... I laugh and nod to say yes, and he makes his way over. He looks a little effeminate in a gorgeous blue satin shirt, or is it a blouse?... But I love a man who's not afraid of being himself.
He approaches and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Steve." He's so nervous.
"Hi Steve, I'm Samantha."
I tell him I love his blouse and that not many men can or are willing to wear satin. The bright blue satin blouse makes him look boyishly handsome, a look I love. I caress his chest through the satin material; it feels nice. I can see it's turning him on. Mmm, satin... could it be his fetish?... Maybe I'll find out later.
He's a bit more relaxed. We chat for a while, just small talk. He relaxes, and we bond; yes, we get on really well, but he keeps looking over at his friends. His friends are giggling like little schoolgirls. I pray it's not because they recognise me.
We continue to chat, but I move really close, still teasing him through his lovely blouse. Finally, we kiss; his lips are warm and delicate, so kissable, my first kiss wearing lipstick. Oh, I love it. He sees his friends laughing even more, then excuses himself and returns to his friends.
As they chat, they keep looking at me and laughing. Steve seems embarrassed. They're teasing him; they told him about me. He seems annoyed; I hope he's not angry with me. I felt we'd really connected.
Suddenly his mood changes; he seems to gesture at his friends. We exchange a warm smile as he heads back to me, looking very determined. He's either going to slap my face or kiss me. He slips his arms around my waist so forcefully as he reaches me. I had no idea he could be so strong. Yes, I'm his girl, as I wrap my arms around his neck. My hands on the back of his head, I pull him to me as we kiss. This time the kiss is full of passion. His hands grip my ass sensually as I press my thigh into him. I can feel he's aroused. I'm impressed; so much passion; he really wants me.
That Special Date
After the party, Steve offered to take me home. I was so glad to get away from those beastly friends of his. However, one of his friends (Simon) came over and apologised to us both as we were leaving. He even gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. The look he gave me was almost one of envy; perhaps he saw himself in me. Many guys are effeminate, some more than others, although most try to hide it. I made a mental note to find out more about Simon.
Steve drove me straight home, the perfect gentleman; no diversions or funny business. He was such a genuine guy; he was shy like me, which meant there were many silent moments, neither of us sure what to say.
There was definitely chemistry between us; he was just so painfully shy. Then as we pulled up outside my apartment block, Steve finally plucked up the courage.
"Samantha, this has been such a fantastic night. Meeting you is like I'm in a dream, where I never want to wake up." Steve held my hand so gently but firmly; he stared into my eyes so lovingly as he spoke.
"Oh, Steve, that's such a lovely thing to say. I feel the same way," I told him. "You are so romantic; I like you a lot. You are so kind, a real gentleman. I'm so happy we met. When I saw you across the room, you looked so pretty in your blue satin blouse; I just had to meet you."
Steve blushed; I hoped I hadn't embarrassed him.
"I hope this is not too soon, but it's my works night out this Saturday, a trip to the Royal Albert Hall. It's a very special night, and I need a very special girl to take; I would be honoured if you would be my date," said Steve.
He kissed my hand so gently as he pleaded with me; my heart skipped a beat. A date, a proper date with this gorgeous guy.
"Yes, I'd love to," I replied. I flung my arms around Steve and kissed him, with so much pent up passion, more passionately than I ever thought possible. I wanted this man, if only... but I knew I must not rush things. We kissed and cuddled. I even told Steve I loved him. It was so romantic.
Saturday night arrived; here I was, at the Royal Albert Hall. Steve said elegant but not too formal, so rather than a dress, I chose my favourite red leather skirt and a navy blue satin blouse I had bought specially for the occasion. The look on Steve's face said he approved.
"You look stunning," he assured me as I walked out to meet him at his car. We kissed. Yes... kissed like a real couple on a date. I was so excited and turned on by having such a fabulous boyfriend.
His work colleagues were so kind and so charming. Some had partners, but some were looking to pull, warned Steve. His CEO was something else, very self-confident, rather too brash, but a lovely man nonetheless. As we cheek kissed, he grabbed my arse and whispered, "You're gorgeous." His hands wandered over my body, and I pulled away before he did something he might regret. He is such a naughty man, but I have to admit that I love compliments like any other girl, especially from a wealthy guy like Bruce, Steve's boss.
I was on such a high; all the guys wanted to talk to me and chat me up. It seemed that as I was merely Steve's girlfriend, I was fair game; but did they know my secret?... had Steve told them?... or did they genuinely want to date me?...
I grew suspicious after a couple of Steve's colleagues tried to touch me up and feel my breasts. His boss even put his hand up my skirt and tried to pull down my silk panties. I looked across to Steve and prayed he hadn't seen what had happened, but Steve seemed busy fending off his boss's wife.
The wives and girlfriends were more than a little irritated; not surprising when their men were drooling all over me. It felt amazing to be wanted by so many men even though I was only interested in Steve. I was so flattered, thrilled and excited, but at the same time, terrified.
I excused myself and went to the lady's room, where I was cornered by two of the wives. They pinned me to the wall and called me a slut. One grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back. As I yelped, she spat in my mouth. The other one unzipped my skirt and put her hand inside my knickers.
"OMG..." she said, backing away quickly.
I went back to our group and spent the rest of the night clinging to Steve's arm.
Thailand was amazing and met/beat all of my expectations while not living up to any of my fears or concerns.
Learn more about my visit at virtualwayfarer.com and don't miss my other albums from the trip through Thailand, Vietnam and Cambodia.
airplanes of course! Real beauties in the background. As far as the woman goes, I'll just say this is a very awkward pose, almost humorous. I'm not sure what that is on her head. Found in WI.
All Saints, Drinkstone, Suffolk
You leave Woolpit, a good village with a famous church, and head into the hills, passing two windmills, both now without sails but majestic still in the early spring sunshine. Eventually you come down into Drinkstone. The infant River Blackbourn runs alongside the village street, and you cross it and climb up to All Saints.
The setting is lovely; the church sits above the road on a soft cushion of green, the old school beside it. The red-brick tower is elegant and tall, and it might surprise you learn that it is neither medieval or Victorian. It was one of the earliest Suffolk towers built specifically to accommodate recreational bell-ringing, dating as it does from the last years of the 17th century, when this sport was beginning to take off. We know it was built at the behest of the Rector Thomas Cambourne, who also paid for the bells; a plaque remembering this is set in the west wall of the tower. It is interesting to compare Drinkstone's tower with earlier Tudor red-brick towers like Hemley and Charsfield, and later 18th century ones ones like Grundisburgh and Cowlinge. It has more in common with the former than the latter, except that here there are classical louvred arches, perfectly designed for the bells to sound out from. If it looks more medieval than it is then it may be because of the lancet in the base stage, part of an 1860s upgrading by Edward Hakewill, whose trademark, a quatrefoil clerestory, is also in evidence above the aisles, looking very like the same thing at his Thurston across the A14. He appears to have raised the nave roof, or at least the angle at which it cuts into the tower, because this now looks rather awkward. If so, the east wall of the nave must also be his; the east window certainly is, and that whole face of the chancel has been rebuilt.
I find it hard to warm to Hakewill's work; his introduction of high gloom into the churches he restored seems intentional, and is often coupled with low aisles that only increase the austerity. Luckily, the great aisles here make the nave as wide as it is long, and I stepped in to a feeling of lightness. The great tower arch contains a modern ringing chamber in light wood, which looks splendid, and suggests that Cambourne's work is still very much appreciated.
The font is set against a pillar in the south arcade in the traditional manner, and is one of those arcaded octagonal fonts you find mainly in the east of the county, usually made from Purbeck marble. Or, at least, it appears to be, but I couldn't help wondering if it was actually an older, square font that had been cut down and decorated by someone locally. It just doesn't have the same finish as other fonts in this style.
The benches are Victorian, and there are some hefty bench end carvings. Mortlock thought they might be from the studio of the great Ipswich woodcarver Henry Ringham, whose work is much in evidence up the road in Woolpit, but I wasn't so sure. They don't seem to me to be of the usual delicacy of his work. The dove with an olive branch, for example, looks more like a chicken.
There are also a couple of medieval bench ends at the back, and they repay more than a passing glance. Although the bench ends are very badly damaged, they both have carvings on them. One is an angel who has had his front neatly sliced off, presumably by an iconoclast to eradicate the design on his shield, while the other is a version of the carving at Blythburgh which is often referred to as 'scandal' - a face carved into the poppyhead with an outstretched tongue. Two smaller heads look out below. There is another like it near here at Bradfield St George.
Despite being repainted, the roodscreen is beautiful, the upper tracery boiling like lace into the air. The roodloft stairway set in the north wall beside it is one of the most complete in Suffolk, retaining all its original steps and even the handrail. There is a very curious stone platform stretching west of here. Today it is used for the lectern, but it may have been part of a tombchest originally, or even what Mortlock calls a preaching platform. It is certainly very unusual.
The family at Drinkstone Hall for many years were the Grigbys, and they've left their mark here. Two matching, elegant 18th century memorials with urns on flank the vestry door, with a simpler one above. But more interesting are two memorials in the nave. Thomas Grigby was killed in the Peninsula war of 1811. On board a transport bound for Cadiz, he was run down by the Franchise frigate off Falmouth and perished together with 233 souls. Almost forty years later, during the Indian Mutiny, the fourth son of the Rector John Peloquin Cosserat was shot in the mouth by a musket ball while commanding his regiment the first Punjaub Cavalry against the rebels at Koorsee, an incident which seems to have stepped out of the pages of The Siege of Krishnapur.
A curiosity in the chancel is a scattering of reset and heavily restored medieval glass. In the upper lights on the south side are angels of the Precious Blood swinging censers. A 19th Century Christ in Majesty is at the top, but the two figures either side may be from a crucifixion originally, On the left are two Marys (one peeps from behind the other) and on the other a figure who is probably John. Although heavily restored, enough survives to show that these figures are in a 14th Century style, although they appear to be 15th Century. Opposite is a Madonna and Child with modern heads.
As you can see, All Saints is full of interest. It doesn't wear its heart on its sleeve, and there must be very few of the many hundreds who visit Woolpit every year who ever make it down the road to here.
Yes this is one of those awkward moments when you try too shoot someone they notice you and the best way to respond a smile and a hand wave ;)
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'Awkward' Whittle & Black Ink 2010.
Exhibited at the Marsden Woo Gallery London 2010.
© By Karen Ryan
A photoshoot using the incredible sculpted heads of the famous Kansas City artist Catherine Grimes. While we were shooting these pictures there was a wedding reception taking place upstairs and this was right about the time the caterers came downstairs for something and saw this. They didn't say anything and left immediately.
that awkward moment when your friend tells you that they like you.
and i really want to watch that movie right now! ugh!
please tell me is you use any of my photos
This statue has some unique properties.
I find it funny that over my lifetime things that would have been considered grossly disrespectful of the flag are now considered to be patriotic. I remember outraged stories in the 70s about hippy bikers desecrating the flag by wearing it as a jacket.
Nowadays anything with an American flag on it has almost sacred powers.
Cheers.
There I was, minding my own business, driving to work on a beautiful Saturday morning, zipping down a curvy country lane at about 85 mph; when, all of a sudden, a Lance crackers delivery truck Apparated from out of nowhere into the lane in front of me, flashing its right-turn signal. Knowing that there was no right turn for at least a mile, I expected that the driver would speed up quickly; however, to my chagrin and quite hazardously, the driver slowed. I barely had time to grab my camera and take this picture before whispering "protego" and putting up a magical barrier between our vehicles.
Published on behalf of The Daily Create. Brought to you by the number tdc1105. Please visit us and participate at tdc.ds106.us/tdc1105/. Time is an illusion, so you can submit yours in the imaginary future that you were presently experiencing.
Seven rather awkwardly shaped (but beautifully executed, of course! ;)) poses for Fashionably Late, September 25-October 2.
Available for 125L at slurl.com/secondlife/CHIC/71/85/23
Sorry, there's no composite for this set yet, I didn't have a chance to make one before going out of town for a weekend holiday. Think of this as a bit of a grab bag, hmm?
Not even sure what to say about this one, but I looked up at the base of this huge tree and couldn't look away. Seemed like an awkward angle, no matter how you slice it. I do like the texture of the tree though, so here you go. via 500px ift.tt/1m4EMzX