Moochie’s Meandering Missives (and a pic or two)

[Moochienanu]

Thank you for thinking of me. This is one of my favorites. Real beauty , what great reveal this would make on a romatic date.
DJ

Thank you for your comments. It is always nice to know my posts are appreciated. This particular thought is one I visit often in my mind-
- one of my favorite feelings.

Looking lovely

Thank you.

 

[olivererekt]

Moochienanu? What the fuck kind of name is that?! Isn’t a screen name on literotica usually one you choose to make yourself distinctive and obvious about what you are or your hobbies, or sexual preferences... or something?

... I mean, why not choose a screen name like
AlwaysBeCumming?
Before_I_Fuck_You?
CumForSum41?
DorkyLittleGirl?
EveryonesDumster?
FunkyFemale123?
GeekyWhore4more?
HaveYouSeenMe69?
I_Fuck_Freely42?
JustWantingU?
KuntyKrafter86?
LuckierWhenIFuckyHer?
(I could go on, but you get the picture from A-L... right? Good good.)

So, for those of you eager to know me better... or to feel closer to me... or whatever we do here, allow me to shed some light on my screen name and what it means...

You see, in a way, I did choose this screen name to be distinguished as me because “Moochienanu” is one of my nicknames in the ‘real’ world. My family and friends who know me well enough call me either “Moochie” or “Pumpkin” both the shortened versions of their entire names “Moochienanu” and “Pumpkin Butter” respectively. Before I tell you the Moochie story, I guess I have to tell you about Pumpkin Butter because, by your reactions to my mention of it, I can tell you’re just dying to hear that story.

When I was a wee one... we’re talking 4-5 years old, innocent, home-cut bangs, tiny human... I had two pairs of pajamas I absolutely loved. I am pictured in them often and basically lived in them because they were sweats. One pair was purple. We called these my “purplemonster PJs” because I would jump around in them and yell “Purple! Purple! Purple!” At anyone and everyone. The other pair was, yup! You guessed it: Orange. A soft, almost yellowish-orange, really. They were scrumptious and I wore them so very much. My Dad started it... the “pumpkin butter” thing. Then it caught on and I was “pumpkin.” Just who I was. You were hoping for a better story... I can tell. Sorry to disappoint (although not really sorry as this is a story about me and I’m bound to be not as interesting as you actually think I am or build me up to be in your mind).

So, now on to the other nickname: Moochienanu. I’ve had many people guess at its meaning, but not a single one was correct. Most of you have tried to look for meaning in my name by googling it, which made me laugh a bit as the spelling isn’t close to its origin story at all. I mean, how were you to know I’m not a pot-head (actually have only tried marijuana three times now for the record and all legally procured), or an Asian/Filipino street gang member? (I know, right? It makes me laugh so fracking hard each time that one is proffered as an origin story.)

Back on track now...

My story takes us back to the 1996 summer Olympics in Atlanta. My family had just moved back to the states and we were all about having television live as it was broadcasted (while living in remote Canada, my aunt and uncle would send VHS tapes of straight recorded television, commercials and all, for us to watch and feel normal). My two sisters and I lived for the gymnastics during that Olympics. We watched every event all day long. I had the biggest crush on Dominique Moceanu, one of the US gymnasts. She was the youngest female gymnast to ever win a gold medal (a little older than I was at the time)... dark hair, gorgeous skin, and the build of a woman made of pure muscle... I was... well, smitten... yeah... I thought I was being subtle, but apparently I wasn’t... thankfully my sisters thought I just wanted to be her, not be licking her used unitard... so somehow they started calling me a form of her last name, “Mochie-anu” which morphed into “Moochie-anu” and finally “Moochienanu” with “Moochie” for short. She’s still really hot, btw... and bringing forward issues about abuse in us gymnastics/child athletes which is super admirable.

Manche Leute haben so einfache Spitznamen.
Ich kann aber nicht nur ein paar Leute sein...
das haben wir doch schon gelernt, oder?
Der harte Weg.




...Hat das jetzt in der Vergangenheit gelassen.

So hier sind wir.
Neuer Raum.
Ich hoffe, Sie haben nichts gegen den moschusartigen, antiken, alten Buchgeruch, den ich hinzugefügt habe, indem ich einige meiner Sachen wohl oder übel platziert habe (einer meiner Lieblingsdüfte, wenn wir es erwähnen wollen ... der süß riechende moschusartige Zerfall alter Seiten... *wehmütige Gedanken*).

Zurück, um diesen *zeigt Ampic-Thread für alles, was er ist* noch einmal und ohne etwas Ballast aus diesem letzten Thread zu versuchen. Ich musste wirklich weg, um die Dinge ins rechte Licht zu rücken ... und die Sache ist, ich möchte, dass dieser Raum mir gehört. Der letzte wurde für gestartet und Posts wurden manchmal von jemand anderem diktiert. Ich mag nicht einmal mehr das Gefühl dieses Gedankens.

Niemand wird mir jemals wieder sagen, was ich über mich, irgendjemanden oder irgendetwas anderes hier sagen kann oder kann (ich meine, Mods werden und sollten Mods sein ... aber ich rede von etwas anderem und das weißt du alle). Niemand außer mir wird den Inhalt diktieren, den ich hier platzieren möchte. Ich hätte das nie vorher zulassen dürfen, und es wird nicht wieder vorkommen.

Lassen Sie uns diesen Thread jetzt so gestalten, wie wir es wollen. Vielleicht eine eingestreute Erzählung? Einige persönliche Geschichten? Fiktionen? Wahrheiten? Ich werde versuchen, Ihre Kommentare rechtzeitig zu erhalten, aber wie immer bin ich nicht für Sie da, also seien Sie nicht verletzt, wenn ich mich entscheide, einen Gedanken fortzusetzen, bevor ich zu einer Antwort komme.

Oh, und natürlich werde ich nicht immer Dinge posten, die Sie sehen oder lesen möchten ... wenn das bei Ihnen der Fall ist, widerstehen Sie bitte dem Drang, mir zu sagen, dass ich eine Enttäuschung bin (ich weiß es bereits) und Klicken Sie auf den Thread von jemand anderem, der sich einen Scheiß (oder zwei) geben könnte ...




... es sei denn natürlich, du möchtest gerne spüren, wie dein trockenes Arschloch durch den kraftvollen Stoß meines Strapons auseinandergerissen wird ... dann bin ich auf jeden Fall gespannt darauf, deine Gedanken über meine Unzulänglichkeiten zu hören.

Einen kraftvollen Stoss mit dem Strapon könnte , würde ich jetzt sehr genießen.

 

[Moochienanu]

Einen kraftvollen Stoss mit dem Strapon könnte , würde ich jetzt sehr genießen.

Schade, dass ich das Bild davon schon heruntergenommen habe. Außerdem musst du keinen alten Thread wiederbeleben, um über meinen Umschnalldildo zu sprechen (der niemals in deinen Körper eindringen wird).

 

[sexfest2016]

Einen kraftvollen Stoss mit dem Strapon könnte , würde ich jetzt sehr genießen.

Love this story every time I hear it….

 

[olivererekt]

Ich liebe diese Geschichte jedes Mal, wenn ich sie höre….

Danke für den Tipp.

 

[heathrowinneo]

Year 2 Index

I write a lot.
This is the index
For the second year in this thread.

you are an amazing and beautiful woman

 

[Divindisguise]

Moochienanu? What the fuck kind of name is that?! Isn’t a screen name on literotica usually one you choose to make yourself distinctive and obvious about what you are or your hobbies, or sexual preferences... or something?

... I mean, why not choose a screen name like
AlwaysBeCumming?
Before_I_Fuck_You?
CumForSum41?
DorkyLittleGirl?
EveryonesDumster?
FunkyFemale123?
GeekyWhore4more?
HaveYouSeenMe69?
I_Fuck_Freely42?
JustWantingU?
KuntyKrafter86?
LuckierWhenIFuckyHer?
(I could go on, but you get the picture from A-L... right? Good good.)

So, for those of you eager to know me better... or to feel closer to me... or whatever we do here, allow me to shed some light on my screen name and what it means...

You see, in a way, I did choose this screen name to be distinguished as me because “Moochienanu” is one of my nicknames in the ‘real’ world. My family and friends who know me well enough call me either “Moochie” or “Pumpkin” both the shortened versions of their entire names “Moochienanu” and “Pumpkin Butter” respectively. Before I tell you the Moochie story, I guess I have to tell you about Pumpkin Butter because, by your reactions to my mention of it, I can tell you’re just dying to hear that story.

When I was a wee one... we’re talking 4-5 years old, innocent, home-cut bangs, tiny human... I had two pairs of pajamas I absolutely loved. I am pictured in them often and basically lived in them because they were sweats. One pair was purple. We called these my “purplemonster PJs” because I would jump around in them and yell “Purple! Purple! Purple!” At anyone and everyone. The other pair was, yup! You guessed it: Orange. A soft, almost yellowish-orange, really. They were scrumptious and I wore them so very much. My Dad started it... the “pumpkin butter” thing. Then it caught on and I was “pumpkin.” Just who I was. You were hoping for a better story... I can tell. Sorry to disappoint (although not really sorry as this is a story about me and I’m bound to be not as interesting as you actually think I am or build me up to be in your mind).

So, now on to the other nickname: Moochienanu. I’ve had many people guess at its meaning, but not a single one was correct. Most of you have tried to look for meaning in my name by googling it, which made me laugh a bit as the spelling isn’t close to its origin story at all. I mean, how were you to know I’m not a pot-head (actually have only tried marijuana three times now for the record and all legally procured), or an Asian/Filipino street gang member? (I know, right? It makes me laugh so fracking hard each time that one is proffered as an origin story.)

Back on track now...

My story takes us back to the 1996 summer Olympics in Atlanta. My family had just moved back to the states and we were all about having television live as it was broadcasted (while living in remote Canada, my aunt and uncle would send VHS tapes of straight recorded television, commercials and all, for us to watch and feel normal). My two sisters and I lived for the gymnastics during that Olympics. We watched every event all day long. I had the biggest crush on Dominique Moceanu, one of the US gymnasts. She was the youngest female gymnast to ever win a gold medal (a little older than I was at the time)... dark hair, gorgeous skin, and the build of a woman made of pure muscle... I was... well, smitten... yeah... I thought I was being subtle, but apparently I wasn’t... thankfully my sisters thought I just wanted to be her, not be licking her used unitard... so somehow they started calling me a form of her last name, “Mochie-anu” which morphed into “Moochie-anu” and finally “Moochienanu” with “Moochie” for short. She’s still really hot, btw... and bringing forward issues about abuse in us gymnastics/child athletes which is super admirable.

Some people have such simple nicknames.
I can’t just be some people, though...
we’ve learned that already, haven’t we?
The hard way.




...Left that in the past now.

So here we are.
New space.
Hope you don’t mind that musky, antique, old book smell I’ve added just by placing some of my things willy-nilly (one of my favorite smells if we’re going to mention it... the sweet smelling musky decay of ancient pages... *wistful thoughts*).

Back to try this *indicates Ampic thread for all that it is* again and without some baggage from that last thread. I really needed to get away in order to put things into perspective... and the thing is, I want this space to be mine. The last one was started for and posts were made sometimes dictated by someone else. I don’t even like the feeling of that thought anymore.

No one will ever tell me what I can or cannot say about myself, anyone or anything else here ever again (I mean, mods will and should be mods... but I’m talking about something different and you all know that). No one will dictate the content I decide to place here except me. I should never have allowed that before, and it will not happen again.

Let’s make this thread happen the way we want it to now. Perhaps a narrative interspersed? Some personal stories? Fictions? Truths? I’ll try to get to your comments in timely fashion, but as always, I’m not here for you, so don’t be butt hurt if I decide to continue a thought before I get to a reply.

Oh, and needless to say I’m not always going to post things you want to see or read... if that is the case for you, please resist the urge to tell me I’m a disappointment (I already know) and click on by to someone else’s thread who might give a shit (or two)...




... unless, of course, you like to feel your dry asshole being ripped apart by the powerful thrusting of my strapon... then by all means, I’m dying to hear your thoughts about my inadequacies.

It was really lovely reading your story. Thank you for sharing it.

And lol at the pic at the end