Nights of the round table

Every quarter I have these meetings.

Well, they're more like gatherings in a 'meeting' type setting. About 12 of us get together and talk projects, get inspired for the year ahead of us... blah, blah, blah. It started about two years ago when we realized we were all writing the same thing and then submitting it (yeah four anal sex stories are three too much). It would turn out that three of those stories would be trashed and the whole "begin again" theory started to get old.

At least one of us would say "God damn it, do you have any idea how hard I worked on that fucking story just to start over and have what *looking at calendar* 2 days to do it?"
Then there'd be some kind of arguement... *sigh*

Eventually it just had to be that we'd all have to get on the same page. Five of us have the same agent (who comes to these meetings as well), she's there to hand us our paid assignments and piece work. If we wanna trade or think some one else would do better with the 'specialty' we swap with another artist.

K, there's history for ya. I do enjoy these meetings.
............

So yesterday afternoon there we sit at the round table... the same place we always meet at; drinking wine or what have you and discussing some of the topics that needed to be delved into this quarter... when someone mentions my blog and how much they enjoy it. I accepted the compliment and moved on to how pissed off I was about the 'produce topic' I was assigned to.

"Oh my god, you got the produce assignment?" One of my fellow local authors chuckled "how in the world are you gonna hit that angle?"

"I have no idea... I'm not writing from experience on this one."

The group laughed, but I wasn't. I'm no cucumber queen... no matter how kinky I am. Anyway, moving on...

The rest of the meeting went well, it was great to chat with my peeps and share some of our last quarters stories and inspiration. We're all freaks, I love it.

As I was leaving, a particular girl author friend of mine asked if I could call her in regards to an article we were assigned to work together on. Granted, many many MANY times I have drooled over her in my mind... she's beautiful in a totally girl-next-door sort of way. For the longest time she dated this guy that was... errr, WAY hotter than anything I had ever seen. I knew by her writings that she was bisexual though, so I secretly always hoped she would by chance hit me up with a number or a compliment, so I could ask her out.
Yes, ask her out to know her a bit on the personal level. you perverts, no I didn't want to dive into her pants.
Okay, i did... so what?

This was totally my chance- so I tucked the number in my pocket and asked her to join me for an appetizer and a drink at a local bar nearby.

She bit, we went, we ate and drank... we talked. We had an overly intellectual conversation about the industry and life... whatnot. We discussed my blog and how I began... why I began... She thought it was an absolutely great idea. Pretty soon we were enjoying talking about a chance that she could put some of her stuff on it.
Then we talked about how she had a bitter break up with her boyfriend. Ummm... SCORE....?

Two glasses more of wine and some fantastic crab dip later; I took the bill and we said good-bye. She mentioned checking out Bubblegum Meltdown for herself, I thought that was so awesome and felt really excited to know she was interested.

Okay, and then she kissed me on the cheek and drove off into the night. If I had been wearing panties, I would've wrung em out for sure. I stood there in the parking lot for at least five minutes trying to comprehend how fucking neat-o my Friday had turned out considering the last week of shit I'd been through.

So here I sit Saturday morning going over my lengthy project list and still thinking about her. Wonder what she's doing, and if she's as bothered about the ABC's of BDSM piece as I am...

I hope she stops by to Bubblegum, and calls me again.

She's got a great ass. K people, I totally need to concentrate... sheesh.