No Sex with the Ex

I'm a firm believer in no sex with the ex. Ironically enough its something that Mr. Right #1 told me when I pathetically begged for breakup sex.  Its the kind of stupid advice that I dole out to people. But who ever actually follows their own advice?

Well ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Right #1 was in town two nights ago for a game and because he's the one that got away. The one that I will always hold a flicker of light for in my ice cold heart... I responded to his text message and met him at the hotel. In the words of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman "Mistake, big big mistake". Granted, I wasn't shopping on Rodeo- the words still apply to me.

I don't know how many of you can relate to losing that one person you thought you were meant to be with. The one where although your entire relationship was out of the ordinary you would have done anything in your power to make it work. Mr. Right #1 was that person for me and trust me I did everything that was asked of me.  So, when the phone buzz buzz buzzed and X (as a caller name) popped up on my screen. Nothing in my power could have stopped me from responding.

I went, I saw, I conquered:
I went- no explanation necessary I think I've done a pretty good job in the aforementioned part of this posting.
I saw- I saw him and he looked good, not great, but good. I kind of wondered what I had ever seen in him, I've grown so much as a person and for the better this leading into...
I conquered- while I don't condone it, sometimes revenge (just a little bit is good) and this leaves me to the posting title. Well, I had sex with the ex. Why did I do it? Because I've learned a lot more about sex since we broke up, I've learned to use my tongue and my dick sucking lips. My body is way more banging then when we dated and I needed to know if I could finally put all my feelings in pandoras box and call it the end of an era. I conquered, I fucking rocked that shit. You're probably wondering how this equates to conquering but let me explain. I used to be weak and Mr. Right #1 used to be able to mold me into his perfect little house wife. But you grow up and you learn and when he asked me if we could talk about the past and tell me that he has always had some feelings for me etc... I just didn't care.

Turns out the flame has finally burned out... so while no sex with the ex is a pretty good concept. Sometimes you just need to fuck and be sure.

Just Another Manic Monday

I just wanted to say that I'll post tomorrow ... have you ever had one of those days where you just wish you had a re-do button. I woke up like that, was supposed to have a flight today for work and it got delayed then canceled due to snow. Honestly, I can understand if it's a fucking blizzard outside, I get it... but it's a light dusting and my schedule is now completely fucked up.

On the bright side, I saw hockey best friend after his game the other night and it always amazes me some of the shit that these guys do/get away with. Hockey friend is gorgeous, you go anywhere with him and people stare at you. I'm used to it, we hang out pretty frequently. Sometimes I just want to scream GOOGLE HIS ASS AND STARE there- not in a public forum. Last night hockey friend walked up to a group of girls on the street, took their camera and asked them to take a picture. Why did he do it? Because they were staring at him and his parting words were simply "to remember me by". Hockey players are such fuckers, it cracks me up. Anyways, hockey friend and I often have sleepovers. Sometimes it results in sex if we are both crazy horny and I'll admit that sometimes is more like a usually (par for the course) but often it results in a sleepover. You know, watch a game, eat some food, talk, go to bed in the same bed. Yeah I'm aware that I'm fucked in the head. It's like having a relationship without having to answer to anyone. Its kind of the best of both worlds, it ranks almost as high as friends with benefits. I said almost.

I owe you another entry about Mr. Right #1, I know that. I promise I'll get one maybe even two to you tomorrow. But tonight, I'm getting some sexless sleep in my own bed. Thank you Mother Nature.

No place like home for the holidays...

Home for me is a hockey rink and yes I can be seen as shameless since I just got home from meeting RS and I'm still jet lagged/sleep deprived/grumpy as fuck but I'm doing laundry so I can meet my hockey "friend" after his game tonight. Yes, I've slept with this friend but this time around he's merely just a friend. When I was dating Mr. Right #1 I learned a lot as a person. In the end, I didn't get a lot out of the relationship but I can say that I made quite a few solid friends. One of these friends was Mr. Right #1's room mate, they ended up hating each other and he ended up loving me- as friends. Friends help friends and when things ended with Mr. Right #1, hockey guy helped me physically by fucking my brains out as a mental distraction. Obviously, I need not forget what hockey sex is all about right? The thing about hockey sex, is once you've had it... there is nothing else like it. I don't know what they teach them up in Canada but these guys can definitely use more than one stick like a pro.

So the point of this blog is to share with you my experience within the hockey world. Well, hockey players are notorious for getting what they want. Thus, despite my protests me fucking Mr. Right #1 before our first date actually went down. Nothing like strolling into a nice restaurant with sex hair and a lopsided smile that says "I just got fucked doggy, what have YOU done today". No shame.

I don't care how many message boards you read (I've read my fair share of them and been posted on them all the same, you learn to develop a thick skin). I was brought up to be a friendly girl, talk to everyone etc. I could make friends with a wall- I swear. Hockey girls are a family and in the AHL (where Mr. Right #1 started) they aren't the nicest girls... Insert entry here:

January 26^th

Game night: Round 2. Walking into the arena, I’m sure to give Joe Regular the stink eye. I mean he gave it to me when I didn’t have a ticket the previous week. Well this week I had a ticket and a “backstage pass”. My first game, I was naïve. The players “girls” have there own specific section. They are very much like a sorority with initiation rituals, hazing methods and plain old lack of friendliness for new members. The girls are a tight knit group who rely on each other as family since they often are from all over the country; even the world. Now, my first game I sat by myself in the corner of the section and spoke to no one. It’s not that I didn’t go unnoticed. I received curious glances and glares. Was it protocol to be unfriendly? Was I too destined to be a bitch? 

When you're in a new enviroment, its usually easier when someone at least gives you a smile. The only time I've ever felt truley comfortable in the hockey world is when I had a player to shield me from everything but the two of us. I'm thankful for the ability to fuck em' and leave em' without having to be scrutinized by everyone. My initiation into the cult: 

February 3^rd

Being with a hockey player is a profession all on its own. I’ve given you the background on how Mr. Right #1 and I met and I’ll be the first to admit that being part of the world looked like a walk in the park. The other wives and girlfriends felt privileged and they acted that way as well. I found out rather quickly why it was easier to be a bitch than a nice girl. Tonight was the first team event that I attended as a girlfriend. It was called Billiard Ball and it was one of many events hosted for fans to meet the players. Have you ever been hated by someone and not know why? Well, congratulations. I’ve been hated by 39 people in one night (I counted) and all because I showed up with the player that they loved. Most people wouldn’t take this to heart, I’m not most people. I was devastated to be grouped in with the other girls and became determined to befriend fans and make them realize hating me didn’t have to be the only option. This plan eventually backfired, since once the fans started liking me; the other girls started disliking me even more. I guess it really is true. You can’t have your cake and eat it too. 

You pray for the player to love you, because sometimes that's the only anchor that keeps you from floating into the abyss... 

PS. Someone sent me this video and I think it's too adorable NOT to share it! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzad9-Z0oTU&feature=player_embedded

Disaster Area

I should be walking around with a sign taped to by jacket "Warning: Proceed with Caution". I'm practically volatile. I blame it purely on RS and his request of me attending sound check before I flew back home. I've heard the songs a million times, so much so that when I hear it on the radio I'm tempted to change the station. Don't get me wrong I LOVE the music, but sometimes it gets to be just too much. You've seen one sound check you've seen them all.

Honestly, I haven't slept. When I finally did fall asleep, RS was waking up to talk to some local radio station and that woke me up. Once awake, there was really no point in going back to sleep so of course I used my "dick sucking lips" <---- lovely terminology I know but a nickname is a nickname. I probably won't see RS til' his tour rolls into my area in a month or two, so I need to get all that dirty sex that I can get while he's around. Don't feel bad for me, it's not like I'm going to dry up and become a nun in the next two months. I have other whats the term "friends with benefits" on speed dial. I don't know why people knock the concept of friends with benefits. You get to try new people, new positions and have no shame in doing it. Since 90% of the time you don't wake up next to them, who cares if you used a whip last night or fucked him in a car? Who cares if you tried a new position, took it from behind or watched porn before you did the deed. The benefit of friends with benefits is that you don't generally have to see the person or feel weird the next day if you tried something new and kinky. The beauty is that you're both in it for one thing: To get fucked.

Someone posted a comment asking for a little bit of information about me. It's not that I wouldn't love to share, because really... I would. But it's kind of for my own safety that I keep it anonymous, I've had a few crazy fans (not of mine, of the guys I fuck) turn into stalkers and try to friend me on Facebook, follow me on twitter  and check my ip posting address. (I smartened up, the town that the ip comes from isn't me, I have my bestest friend in the world post for me because he fucking ROCKS). Things I will give you about me:
I'm American and reside in the US (most of the time)
I'm at an airport right now and can't wait to board that plane where a blanket and pillow awaits me....
I love sex, I love the feeling of being dominated and I love to dominate.
I'm never afraid to try new things- not just sexually and I encourage you all to do the same...
I picked the name Jagged Ice because ice is never as smooth as it seems and nothing in my life goes according to plan. I've been in love 3 times with two athletes and a regular dude. I've never loved any of the rock stars, but I have respected them and grown quite fond.
Anything you want to know about me/from me, shoot me a message. If I can answer it without compromising myself than I'm game.

Atleast one of us is sleeping

It's late and I'm on one time zone while RS is on a completely other. He's passed out in bed next to me. So, what better way to kill insomnia than posting a little bit on my new found sanity- or insanity depends on how you look at it. I've spent most of my last 24 hours doing 3 things: eating, flying and having sex. I choose the latter option.

I don't know if I should feel ashamed that I'm about to write about Mr. Right #1 when I'm snuggled in bed with Mr. I'm fucking hot as hell and will never be Right RS. But I'm known for being illogical and irrational and basically just not giving a fuck. I've been told my complete lack of caring is what makes me so alluring. My mother always taught me to act lady like. Yet somewhere between my high school sweetheart and my first roll in the sack with an athlete; I learned to cuss like a sailor, fuck like a rabbit and do a keg stand.

Sometimes when I'm having a moment of snuggling with RS (yes rock stars snuggle too). I think it would be perfect if we just worked out. If the space time continuum was realistic and living out of a suitcase was a viable option. But this isn't Star Wars and the reality of it is that sex is just sex.... get it while its hot.

Mr. Right #1 began as a train wreck.When Joe Regular told me that my tickets had been spoken for, you'd think that a light would go off and I'd run for the hills. Instead I started to pine after him, it took only 2 days of pining and he asked me out again. Of course, being the idiot that I am... I accepted. We ended up fucking each other in the back of his Audi BEFORE we had dinner. I would have married him right then and there. Food for thought: Goalies are fucking flexible and flexible whilst fucking.
 

I like the way you play me.

I promise I'll continue the saga of Mr. Right #1, cause it ended up being 2 years of my life kind of saga.

But I just got a complete blast from the past which prompted me to post a little bit of my non hockey indiscretions. I mentioned before that I've had a few flings with rock stars as well. Well my personal favorite of these flings calls me when he's within a 100 miles radius of my city. I swear to the heavens, he so much as finds out he's going to be anywhere near me and buzz buzz buzz, he's blowing me up. You'd think that hooking up with a rock star would be a one night stand and initially that's all I was planning on having it be. But sometimes one night stands, turn into 3 day sex benders when the only time you emerge from the hotel suite is to ask his assistant to grab something from your car or run down to 711 for another pack of cigs and a box of condoms. Am I proud of this, absolutely not. Am I ashamed of this, fuck no. I've had sex with said RS (rock star) in 7 different states and 3 different countries. I've been put on countless red-eye flights from ____ to____to_____to_____ because I have dick sucking lips and RS is "lonely" or "horny as fuck". I'm not ashamed to admit any of this; because at some point it became we're together when we're together and we're apart when we're apart. I don't know how it works, it just does.

Moral of this posting is because RS just had his assistant book a flight for me in a few hours because he's within 1 hour (flying time) of my city. I am not a whore or a slut and I justify this because at some point feelings became involved, I like to have fun and lets face it I like the way he plays me better than the instrument he's famous for.

For me, rock star sex has been just that. Rock Star...

Uhh in English please.

Now I bumped into my hockey player outside of the rink, by pure accident. After waving to him for weeks and perhaps having a few fantasies about taking his clothes off and screwing in the locker room (I’m twisted) and let me tell you the locker room fantasy isn’t so sexy once it become a reality, also for all intensive purposes don’t fuck on the ice it’s cold. I’ve done it at a well known NHL arena with my first Mr. Right. No matter what your hockey player tells you, the warmth of your bodies in the throws of passion are just not enough to keep you from getting hypothermia during sex.

I’m getting off topic, sorry. So, I met my hockey player and who would have thought that once he opened that perfect mouth his words would be unrecognizable. Of course, I picked a fucking European barely speaks English player on the team. I also, picked a goalie (for all the people who like to speculate, I just narrowed down about ¾ of the NHL player options for you). After head shaking and smiling my way through the conversation we exchanged numbers, we played the texting game for the next 24 hours. Entry:

Where to begin?

For anyone interested, in the hockey world no one is safe. I’m a small town girl who’s loved hockey her entire life. I never actually wanted the players. It was a love of the game for me. Keyword: WAS. I loved the game until one day the game (or it’s participants) started loving me. I was never popular, pretty or special in the eyes of the male population. I started working at a hockey rink so I could get free ice time. That’s it ladies and gentlemen, no ulterior motive for me. But in case you aren’t privy to this information, I’ll let you in on a little secret… hockey players practice at ice rinks. Gee, weird I know. Well, this little ice rink landed a whole bunch of college teams, from college teams it turned to ECHL teams, then the AHL team started practicing and that’s where my conquests began and my inhibitions were lost. One look on my lunch break and I fell hard and fast. There was this player who would walk by my office window every day after practice and wave, just wave. Not saying anything, just make eye contact and wave. Well a wave can mean a lot of things, I took it as a friendly hello. This went on for weeks until one day we bumped into each other outside. The rest is history, but this one player began a domino effect… and when the last domino hit the table and I finally gave in my world was turned upside down and reality ceased to exist. Stay tuned, because I took notes from day 1 and I’m ready for them to be read by all…

Hello World, haha.

I’d like to take a minute and start out by saying that I was never a puck bunny by choice. I wouldn’t even count the term puck bunny as an apt description of myself, but that’s how many other people viewed me for a long time. I’m more of a right place at the right time girl. Maybe not even that, I grew into my looks and I guess there is just some sort of magnetism that I give off. To hell if I know, but I’ll take it. I’d also like to share that I’m not strictly on the path of hockey players, although somehow I always manage to get with one of them. I’ve dabbled in the other sports and had my fair share of rock stars to. By now you’re probably thinking that I’m quite promiscuous. There is a song with the lyrics: These are the sins the sins of my youth. Well, I’m still in my youth and while my actions can be seen as less than saintly, I wouldn’t really align myself with the sinners either. Two of my conquests if you can even call them that, turned into Mr. Right #1 and Mr. Right #2 they lasted… for awhile. But life isn’t a fairy tale boys and girls.

I’m starting this blog because it seems like a faster way of sharing some stories that I’ve partaken in, witnessed and find memorable than writing them down in my dirty little black book of secrets. Secrets, secrets are no fun unless they’re shared with everyone. Some girls start these kinds of blogs for attention and while yes it would be cool as hell to get a book deal for it. I’m more of a realist in knowing that .1% chance isn’t coming my way soon. I’m starting it for TBD reasons: Boredom, mental insanity, my incessant need to write or because maybe someone our there will find it interesting to read what I write and I can finally stop badgering my friends with the stories of what I did last night.