Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Ride

This month has been quite the adventure for me; I humped more than the Easter Bunny, traveled the country like a gypsy and drank more than David Hasselhoff (if that’s even possible). In doing all that, I discovered quite a bit about myself. Namely, that Blue Steele isn't in danger of slowing down anytime soon. But it was this past weekend when I realized something even more important — that I have an alter ego, a little devil on my shoulder of the pre-orgasm variety.

With Christmas festivities coming to an end, but the holiday cheer still lingering in the air, it was time for Blue Steele to stir up some controversy — in some lucky lady's pants, that is.  And that lady was sent to me in the form of a beautiful Southern belle.
It was Sunday night and the mood was right. I had on my new Christmas sweater  (a gift from Mother Steele) and a brand new pair of socks that I received as a stocking stuffer.  I don’t know about you, but when I put on new socks it’s straight up over with — like, my whole day just gets way more interesting.  I compare my excitement to what a stripper must feel like right before she puts on her heels: proud, confident and, last but not least, protected. New socks make me feel like a new man!
So I knew I was in for some trouble the moment I got dressed.  Florence, my new lady friend, had no idea what she was about to get into, however.  By the way, how mature of a name is Florence?  I mean her name made the hook-up way more interesting! If she had a name like Jamie, it just wouldn’t have ‘felt’ the same for me.
Florence was visiting her daughter at FIT (yes, assuming you can do math, you've figured out that Florence is over 40) and although she wasn't exactly aware of what her life lacked, I happened to be exactly what she needed to fill her, um, void — a younger, more energetic, and definitely better-equipped version of the husband she'd left behind in Tennessee.
(For the record, I found out she was married after we had sex. I never would have hooked up with her had I known of her husband. Oh, who I’m I kidding? I definitely would have still had sex with her; it just would have been different.)
Anyway, back to my point (yes, I do have one)...
While we were having sex, I can’t even begin to tell you all of the things that were running through my mind. I know what you’re thinking: "Why the heck were you thinking at all, Blue Steele? Always focus on the sex at hand!” But, the truth is, no matter who I'm having sex with, my mind tends to wander. Sometimes I think about having sex with other women and sometimes I think about some straight-up freaky things.  Like, while I was having sex with Florence, I was imagining doing some downright dirty stuff — things that if I wrote them down, you wouldn’t like Blue Steele anymore. But, and here's the clincher, the second I ejaculate those thoughts vanish. IMMEDIATELY.
So this is what got me to thinking that I have more in common with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde than I ever before thought. By day, I'm just a regular guy who likes to 'play doctor' with the ladies, but the minute I start bringing the wood, Blue Steele turns into Mr. Ride.
Now, before you start applauding, you need to know that this bit of self-discovery doesn't rock. On the contrary, my freaky friends, it's a burden — a very heavy burden. As if saving the city from crime and virginity isn’t enough, from this day forward Blue Steele has yet another issue to deal with:  I now have to deal with fighting the pressures of my own guilty (and clearly over-sexed) conscience.
Wish me luck in the new year.