Chapter 13: Oral Fixation

Ireland and I are at Lily’s Nails—the premier budget polish salon on the west side, where the ladies are as professional, quick, and cheap as everyone imagines happy endings to be in Thailand. This is where Ireland recently met Tony: the man who delivered her first oral-stimulation orgasm. And this is where Ireland now gets her nails done every week, because Tony has a “thing” about nails.

“I don’t think I can ever break up with him,” she says, finishing her mimosa, which they serve at Lily’s every day ’til 2:00 p.m.—because every day is a holiday at Lily’s. It’s written in small print on the window.

I point to the dark purple nail polish on my elbow rest, and one of Lily’s girls—the one who has been scrubbing and buffing my feet for thirty minutes nowsmiles in acknowledgement. She grabs it and starts applying.

“Strong words,” I say, “for a woman who used to call men who had better hygiene than her faggy.”

Ireland nods to another of Lily’s girls, who is carrying a fresh pitcher of mimosa. “That was before my clitoris experienced this.” Ireland grabs my forearm, wraps her lips around it, and starts sucking and flicking her tongue around…

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30. Meeting a man in a women’s bathroom.

March 10th, 2010

women's-bathroom

From Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Winter Season (CHAPTER 6: VALENTINE’S DAY MARTYRDOM)

I open the bathroom door.

I see a man standing in front of the center stall. I must have the wrong bathroom.

I do a one-eighty. I look at the outside of the door: it clearly depicts a female form. I open the door again. The man is still there.

“Hi there,” he says with a casual air.

The man greeting me has thick curly dark hair and a goatee. He’s wearing a red-collared shirt, a black leather jacket, grey pin-striped pants, and checkered Vans. It’s the most fashion I’ve seen in an hour and a half.

I smile with an air of what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-in-here?

“There was no toilet paper in the men’s bathroom so I deduced the women’s room would be the fastest way to get some.” He takes a few steps to pick up the drink sitting on the bathroom counter—next to a roll of toilet paper. “Are you an accountant?” he asks.

“No. Are you an accountant?”

“No. But I have one who works here.” He takes a sip of his drink. “David Smyth.” He extends his hand toward me. “Smyth with a ‘y’ not an ‘i’,” he adds.

So, he’s a little strange—and a little anal retentive. I greet his hand with mine…

Sex, Life, & Hannah: Smut or Smart?

March 9th, 2010

saving-the-world

Sometimes I feel like I need to explain myself. Especially to people who haven’t read my books and just see: SEX in the title. Or maybe they read a risqué excerpt and immediately put the entire series in the soft porn category. Or they read a blog post about me recommending a vibrator and think my next career move is working for the Pleasure Chest. People, you know who you are (DAD!). Did I just write that out loud? I did, because last week I got a bit of a lecture via email from my dad about the “type” of books I was writing. Well, what better way to clear the air than to blog about it to the world. Express your thoughts, expose the truth, and empower yourself. Because THAT is what Sex, Life, & Hannah is really all about: Expressing yourself and being honest so that you can be empowered and get everything you want out of life.

Since we’re talking honesty, I didn’t set out to write a Girl Power book. I wanted to write a fun and frank book about love and relationships, and yes, sex. Because these three things shape so much of your life and who you are (they sure as hell continue to shape my life). We seem to always be talking about who we’re dating or who we wish we were dating, or why we just can’t seem to figure out how to have an orgasm with a man. And if we’re not talking about that, we’re talking about the job we love to hate, or how to give a good hand job (stay tuned). We’re talking about this stuff because it resides in our most intimate thoughts; those thoughts that make us most vulnerable and effect whether we sulk or strut. So we want to feel like we’re not quacked up, and that other people understand, or have gone through what we’ve gone through. When we can relate or others can relate to us, we feel…normal. If there is such a thing, but regardless, when we feel like we’re not alone we start feeling better about things and that we can get through even the most unpleasant hurdle. So whether I intended it or not, Sex, Life, & Hannah WILL make you feel better about things.

To wrap this up I’m going to give away the ending of the book series: Hannah becomes an independent, confident women that gets everything she wants. You know why? Because it’s possible. We all have the power to shape our destiny and be truly happy. It doesn’t matter where you come from or what situation you are in right now–you have the power to change it. And if you don’t know how, read Sex, Life, & Hannah and read this blog because they will help you figure it out.

p.s. Dad, I hope you understand now that your daughter is just trying to do her part to save the world.

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