The Quickie Chronicles: Dreams Come True

I lay on the concrete writhing in pleasure from my fifth orgasm.  The sound of the water crashing against the rocks matched every flicker of his tongue.  I didn't know where we were headed next, what we would do next, all I knew is it wasn't yet over.

It all started with a simple reservation.  I checked dates and availability weeks in advance.  I knew he would find time for me.  I checked in one Friday evening with nothing but the clothes on my back and a clean pair of panties in my purse.  Check in was simple: drop my purse down the the guest bed and strip.

We started more traditionally.  Soft kisses on my neck, firm hands groping my ass.  Bites under breasts and on hipbones.  Hands wondering through pants and boxers.  Consistent twisting strokes.  Condom.  Missionary.  Legs over shoulders.  Echoing moans.  Deep, erotic whispers.  Orgasm one.

He slid onto the floor, still hard.  I just checked in.  I'm not even trying to be worn out yet.  I slid on the floor beside him, removing the slimy condom.  I replaced it with my mouth.  The lockjaw snuck up on me, and so did the post coital fatigue, but I fought on.  I swirled my tongue and sucked until endless possibilities coated my tongue and found their way down my throat.  I put on the "company issued" t-shirt and headed to the sofa for a nap.

I woke up to something on tv and two eyes staring at me from in between my legs.  He grabbed my feet and pushed them towards me.  I looked like I was about to give birth.  He took his time practicing his most intimate speeches on me.  The convulsions took over my legs and I was losing my control.  He didn't like that, he was suppose to have complete control, total domination.  Orgasm two was caught on the sofa, but the third was welcomed into the world with screams as I clung to the ceiling above the kitchen counter.  I sat on the counter for a few minutes trying to regain the feeling in my legs.  He came up, slapped my thigh, and told me it was time to move on to the next event.

We headed outside into the midnight air.  Tiptoed down the stairs.  Hopped the pool fence.  Stripped.  He jumped in.  I just stood at the edge of the pool, naked and weak legged.  I can't swim and I'm not even about to die bobbing for penis.  I sit on the edge of the shallow end and slipped in.  I wade gracefully until I'm about breast deep.  The coolness of the air and the wetness of nipples cause them to tingle.  He notices the change in my nipples, grabs me by the waist and shows them love.  They respond graciously to his touch, sending a throbbing sensation up my spine.  We float to a wall of the pool.  I push my back up against it graciously.  With my arms around his neck, I began nibbling gently on his shoulder as a response to my pleasure, and to not awaken the neighbors.  My legs float up in the water and find their way around his waist.  He takes this as an opportunity to invade my sacred space.  My bits become harder as his thrust become deeper.  I begin to claw as I bite, he tightens the vice grip he has on my ass.  Spreading it open so he can invade me even more deeply.  Orgasm four.

Wet, in every sense of the word, and delusional, we wonder our way to the lake.  I don't remember if we had to jump a fence, I think so.  I refuse to get any closer to that body of water than I already had so I sat on the concrete sidewalk.  He sat beside me.  I decided I wanted to see what I tasted like mixed with chlorine.  I began licking my juices off of him, slowly taking more and more of him into my mouth.  Somehow this becomes a challenge.  He pushes my head off his dick and lays me on the concrete.  He straddles my face and bends over, greeting the inside of my thighs.  He pulls my legs over onto his shoulders and devours me like a death row inmates last meal.  I try my hardest to keep up with him, neglecting his children as they trickle down my chin.  I lay on the concrete writhing in pleasure from my fifth orgasm.  The sound of the water crashing against the rocks matched every flicker of his tongue.  I didn't know where we were headed next, what we would do next, all I knew is it wasn't yet over.  Or so I thought.  I turned my face to the water and watched the sun rise and end my reservations.  Hopefully check out was at noon because I needed a nap.

So if you're ever near The ****** please make sure to see if there are any openings in reservations.  Remember their tag line.  It's where [Insert your name here]'s kitty dreams come true.

Adventures of a College Educated Misfit - Part 24

....On Father's Day

Now that we're in the shadows of holidays devoted to our parents, I'd like to cook a little, if you don't mind. I often wonder why there are special days for our parents, in which we're encouraged to go above and beyond our normal signs of affection / appreciation for the people that brought us into this world? To be honest, I wonder if the idea of having a Children's Day ever crossed the minds of the marketing geniuses that crafted holidays for the Mammy and Pappy? I guess with birthdays, Christmas, and basically every other day of the year, kids really have special holidays year round. Meh, back to the parents...

So, the 3rd Sundays of May and June have been designated to show love to our parental figures. We take them out to dinner, buy them cards and / or gifts, or just do a little something extra to show them that we care. HOWEVER, in this day and age of social media, it has become apparent that these special days designated for parent appreciation are bittersweet for some, and just plain bitter for a majority of us. Yes, we all know someone with a parent that has been less than supportive, or that has had no input to the lives of their child except for the 12min of intercourse that ultimately led to conception. Whatever the case is, it's put on display, and usually done without remorse....*stretches*

Dad. Daddy. Father. Pop. Paw. "That ni**a that nutted in my Mom." There are several titles we tend to give our paternal figures, all of which are evident on and around Father's Day. A variety of colorful tweets, Facebook status updates, Vine videos, and Instagram photos tell [ironic] stories about how awesome our Moms are, how some of our Dads are like God's gift to humanity, and how much of an "ain't sh*t ni**a" most of our Dads turned out to be. I usually find myself in the middle of this Venn diagram, trying to see which way I should lean to. 

Moreover, I usually just sit back and observe all of the positive and negative comments that surface around me. I see heroic tales about how someone's Dad used to scare away monsters from underneath the bed, and how one Dad sacrificed eating dinner 4 nights a week so that his kids would have a decent meal. I've read angry messages about how some Dads don't even acknowledge their kids, and I have even told the story about how my Dad left my Mom on my 4th birthday. BUT, after further review, I have reached this conclusion. I'm a Misfit, and despite the fact that my Dad has been absent / less than favorable in my eyes for the majority of my adult life, I still love my Father.

How? It's quite simple. I have old and new friends that are near and dear to me that have (a) Never had a relationship with their Fathers, (b) Had their Fathers pass away within the past 8 years, and (c) Never actually met their Fathers. I've had the honor...the blessing....the opportunity to know and grow up with my Father in my life. Although the role was limited, he has been no more than an [awkward] phone call or 20min drive from where I am. Who am I to bash or belittle him, when I have friends that would KILL just to have a few moments with their Dads. 

Yes, my anger and frustration is justified, and probably could be even worse, but I refuse to let it deter me from loving my Father. Each and every time we communicate, he pisses me off to the nth degree....but I can still talk to / see him. The guilt trip he leads me on is better than a trip to a grassy grave-site, right? I know he's stubborn, and due to his current medical state, is ready to die, but I can't and won't give up on him. He needs someone to fight for him, and after yesterday's conversation with him, it has to be me.

For the record, this isn't about the broken-relationship between your parents. This is between you and your Father. Leave your Mom out of this one. So, I'm saying this to all of you: While I understand that your Dads may not have been the best, you should attempt to be the bigger person in the "relationship." It won't be easy, and it damn sure won't be fun, but take it upon yourself to try and bridge the gap before it's too late. Tomorrow isn't promised for any of us, and I'd hate for any of us to be the ones that never got a chance to say "I forgive you, Dad." 

You don't have to ride bikes together, or go fishing, but a simple conversation to clear the air, and reach some sort of closure would be beneficial. He's not perfect, and neither are you, so have a heart, and just do the right thing. Good Luck....

Objection: LaLa pt. 1

This isn't the craziest situation that I've witnessed. But at the same time, I'm still a little surprised.

I met this group about five years ago when I was working at the G Spot. They were a fun group. Four plus one always equals a good time plus that meant I had $1500 in my pocket. Two months rent; I do it all for my son.

Nic was the one that was all gung-ho for the idea when I approached them. I fell in love with her confidence. Always wished I had as much as she did. Sometimes they would come back as a whole, sometimes just two or three, but never just one. That's the rule.

Anyway, they accepted me with open arms & I turned my life around. Of course you would to if you were surrounded by lawyers and doctors. The achieving and scholarly type, see that's not even a word I would have used back then. They made me feel a sense of self worth. They learned the real me LaQaunta Alvarez; journalist, writer, novelist at heart.

With my life turned around, I actually found and awesome man who is great to me and my son. Treats us like royalty and will always protect us. He even has two jobs so I don't have to resort to "my old ways" to make money.  His name is Jayden and he's my guardian angel. Some say he looks like he should be with Pretty Ricky but I think he's GQ like Ginuwine. I'm a lucky gal.

Now, Chris just by circumstance I don't like that self- righteous, always playing the victim whore. She knew what kind of guy Thomas was, she just choose to look the other way. Every single time a new chic popped in the picture. Couldn't go a full year without one of them messaging her online, calling her phone, or showing up at their front door in the middle of the night. He was a good looking guy I'll give him that but even I wouldn't have stayed around that long especially when he had an offspring during one of those flings. Now its Christine with baby number two.

Oh well know its time to put all my feelings aside and help Nic find her best friend. Can't have her frantic because she's my rock. Wish i could have her to myself but that's not the cards that were dealt.

After Nic runs after receiving some random message, I sprint right after her. After all, I can't let the love of my life leave by herself.  I'll be her rock this time. I'll show her I'm down for her. Then I see Chris coming out the cab. Bitch. Selfish bitch. Wait a minute. Is that Jay?! Why does my man have his hands on this trick?!

I subconsciously yell, " Jay?"

He turns around surprised. Notices me and has no words. Stunned by my presence in this unusual setting I guess. The old me returns, I suddenly remember the numerous guys in and out my bed, leaving hundreds on the dresser before I wake up in the morning. Now that time doesn't seem so long ago. With hurt and anger at the tip of my tongue, I blurt out,

"How could you cheat on me? I thought we had something good here? Then you choose her, of all people? I give you everything you ask for.. A home, unconditional love, and an awesome sex life!! How could you do this to Thomas? We bring him to join in our sexcapades and you choose his fiance to sleep with on the side?"

I stop yelling because I want answers! But nobody is speaking. I come back to reality and realize that everyone is staring at me. Didn't realize I was yelling so loud because I would have noticed we were joined by Thomas, Christine, and her belly wanting to explain their side.