Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Some Thoughts on this Day...
Gerald Ford's words, "Our long national nightmare is over" Indeed.Although Ford was talking about Nixon, it seems true on this day as well. I remember Nixon's resignation in 1974. I was 9 and home sick from school. I remember my mom crying. I didn't understand her tears. Still don't. She was a Republican, lol. I am not. I wonder how that would be playing out today, lol. I still think that Nixon didn't do anything that no one else has done or will do. But I digress. Today, I am home with a sick kid. Watching another historial presidential event unfold. I'm sorry she feels icky, but I'm so glad to be watching things live. I have to run out and get 2 newspapers, one for each daughter. I do comprehend the overwhelming feelings that black people are feeling today. I however am not seeing it that way at all. I see a man who is of my generation. I don't see a black man at all. I did not vote for a black man. I voted for a man I believe in. I believe in his rhetoric. Yes, it's rhetoric, I'm not that innocent to not know he won't keep all his promises. I'm already a bit disappointed he wants to participate in the bail outs. I hope his presidency doesn't serve to seperate the races more. I hope it brings us together and that we no longer celebrate for different reasons. I hope we'll celebrate because he does a good job, regardless of his skin color. I was born after the Civil Rights movements. Perhaps that's why I don't see color? I dated a black man at one point. Perhaps that's why I don't see color? My kids have a rainbow of friends. Perhaps that's why I don't see color? I see people. I see an adorable, fun, loving family with parents who value education. I see a grandma moving in to keep her babies grounded. I see a gorgeous, tall woman who is built like a woman, smiling and standing with her husband and loving her mom and kids. I wish them all well and I hope they will be safe and healthy. I hope the girls get to be girls. I hope the agent who gets assigned to the youngest daughter isn't drop dead exhausted at the end of each day, lol.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Old Folks in Da Hood, Pt II
Death 2 goes something like this. From what I can gather, Ms. Thelma had been pretty out of reality for quite a few years. She'd always ask me when her parents were coming to get her. She appeared to think she was at school or camp. If I'd ask her about her son, she'd look bewildered. Her son and daughter in law were devoted to her. They'd pick her up every Tuesday for lunch, hair and nails. You could see her dementia getting worse with each month. Visits became rather quick. I knew if I had a lot to take care of at her ALF, I could depend on Ms Thelma to only taking 60 seconds of my time. Pretty much, I'd check to make sure she was clean, fed, & moitor her cognitive level. All quick checks. Using 3 of my 5 senses. Smell, sight, and hearing. You decide which I used for which check. Of course I'd check with the staff, or her pal, Ms Kay, to make sure I wasn't missing anything. Ms. Kay was just as demented, but sure as shit, she'd tell you precisely what was wrong with Ms Thelma or if she'd eaten lunch. Thelma wound up in the hospital with a UTI a month back. UTIs are weird in the elderly. They can change their demeanors, personalities etc. Who knew? Ms Thelma came back to her ALF but never fully recovered. The last time I saw her, she was drastically changed. She no longer asked about her parents. She just mumbled under her breath and asked me some off the wall question. Repeatedly, the same question. By chance her son and daughter in law showed up for their standing Tuesday appt. Always a gregarious couple, we talked easily about their mother and the changes I noticed. She didn't know her name this time, didn't know her son's name etc. They always know their own names or respond to them anyway. Her son sat with her and held her hand while she had a lovely peaceful smile on her face and Ms Kay filled him in on her meals. Ms Thelma looked SO peaceful hand in hand with Ron that I looked a couple of times to make sure she was still alive. We talked about plans for Ms Thelma's future. Ron was concerned the ALF wouldn't be able to meet her needs and would ask him to remove her. He was greatly relieved to hear the manager tell him she had never planned on that and believed Ms Thelma was home and should live out her life there. We arranged to increase hospice care the next day. Ms. Thelma passed about 1 wk later. As I offered my condolences to Ron, he asked if he could tell me a story and offered that something weird had happened. I'm all up for weird stories and promised he wouldn't scare me. Ron gave me brief back round on how they'd hired a woman to care for Ms Thelma in her own home for about 5 yrs. Of course the women became friends. When Ms Thelma broke her hip and went to rehab, she was also out of money and the aide had to be let go. The aide followed Ms Thelma to the rehab so she could continue to keep an eye on her. The ladies remained friends. The aide would go to the ALF once in awhile to visit her. Ron called the aide to tell her his mother had died. Before he could say anything, she stopped him and said she already knew. She'd had a dream about 4:30 am with Ms Thelma. The two were sitting under a tree in a park with lots of children playing nearby. She said it was so vivid, that she just knew what it meant. Ms Thelma died at 5:00 am.
The Swallower
The title titillates, no? Pornographic images swim through your mind's eye? Oh if only it were so.
The Swallower is a soul so tortured by her past that she will never live outside of a state facility. This is a emotional child, who cannot relate to people. Who must have been so tortured as a girl, that it's likely she isn't even aware of the extent. A young woman who can, will and has swallowed a laundry list of items that would amaze and astound. And disgust. I remember reading her history, shaking my head and chuckling. Chuckling? Yes. Not a particularly proud moment. But perhaps a defense mechanism on my part. As an aside, mental health workers have a very warped view of humanity and find humor in odd situations.
How the hell does she remain alive? If I swallowed razors...well, you get the idea now. Evidentily, nothing is immune from her 'hobby.' Self injury is typically where a person will cut themself to relieve emotional pain. The Swallower takes it to the next level and then some. Not even allowed clothing or eating utensils. She's swallowed those, you know. She's a manipulator. Not just with her tonsils, but with her actions. The Swallower would tell you she's never going to injest another screw or nail and the next minute a paintbrush disappears. No more surgeries to remove foreign injestables either. Let nature take it's course. Oh yes, nature. Razors, nature. Screws, nature. Plastic forks, nature again. The human body is an amazing and sometimes cruel machine. I'll refrain from my warped visions that currently run through my mind's eye. You wouldn't understand the humor in it most likely. But sometimes, you have to laugh or you'll cry.
The Swallower is a soul so tortured by her past that she will never live outside of a state facility. This is a emotional child, who cannot relate to people. Who must have been so tortured as a girl, that it's likely she isn't even aware of the extent. A young woman who can, will and has swallowed a laundry list of items that would amaze and astound. And disgust. I remember reading her history, shaking my head and chuckling. Chuckling? Yes. Not a particularly proud moment. But perhaps a defense mechanism on my part. As an aside, mental health workers have a very warped view of humanity and find humor in odd situations.
How the hell does she remain alive? If I swallowed razors...well, you get the idea now. Evidentily, nothing is immune from her 'hobby.' Self injury is typically where a person will cut themself to relieve emotional pain. The Swallower takes it to the next level and then some. Not even allowed clothing or eating utensils. She's swallowed those, you know. She's a manipulator. Not just with her tonsils, but with her actions. The Swallower would tell you she's never going to injest another screw or nail and the next minute a paintbrush disappears. No more surgeries to remove foreign injestables either. Let nature take it's course. Oh yes, nature. Razors, nature. Screws, nature. Plastic forks, nature again. The human body is an amazing and sometimes cruel machine. I'll refrain from my warped visions that currently run through my mind's eye. You wouldn't understand the humor in it most likely. But sometimes, you have to laugh or you'll cry.
The Wink
She'd dreamt of this moment for months. It was a conscious thought as she drifted off to sleep every night. Her guilty secret. And now here she was. Looking and waiting for him to meet her at the pre-arranged spot. She knew she'd recognize him. Tall, and muscular with an infectious grin.
In he walked, searching the faces. Their eyes met, he winked and a wide smile covered his face. She blushed and the butterflies did somersaults. "Please don't let me throw up," she silently giggled and prayed.
Tentatively they embraced and gave each other a friendly kiss on the lips. It was a shy, purposeful kiss, but one she'd felt in her dreams nightly. She inhaled his scent, not wanting to pull away, not wanting this feeling to ever end. Even these slight touches between them, made her body respond. If he'd suggested they forget lunch and move to desert, she would have left with him, then and there. They fumbled over conversations that usually flowed. Both knowing. Both wanting it to end the same way.
Throughout the meal, they had smirks on their faces, as they felt the tensions ebbing and flowing. He locked eyes with her and winked. She winked back. They held hands leaving the restaurant. He had a noticeably nervous laugh and sweaty palms. She felt the sweat of their hands mingling and allowed her mind to wander to a place where she would feel more of his skin sweating against hers. She wasn't sure she'd make it to the next stop on their journey.
They raced to the car like two kids to their first sexual experience. Embracing and allowing the moment to take them away. Allowing some of the tensions to be released. He again, locked eyes with her and winked. It's how they always said goodnight to each other at home and gave some silent indication of what was to come. She crumbled under the warmth of his hands and they followed the curve of her neck and traced her jaw. She could feel her heart racing and her panties becoming moist. "Where to?" he asked. "Your arms," she replied.
They drove to the cabin he had rented for himself in the woods. She was staying at a nearby hotel so as not to raise any suspicions. Once inside, he took her hand and led her to an overstuffed chair by the fireplace, while he built a fire to keep the damp night out. She sat and watched as he bent over, flexing his muscular shoulders and cursing quietly under his breath as the fire refused to take. She chuckled at his nervous hands. He turned and winked. Again, the silent message of what was about to begin.
Finally, a warm light enveloped the cabin. She was warming up but continued to shiver in anticipation. He moved towards her and held out his hands. She noticed for the first time how rough they were from his work. Manly and strong. He sat on the chair and pulled her to him. They kissed. Slowly and tentative at first. With each pass of their tongues over lips, it became more urgent. She thought she'd have an orgasm before he'd done more then kiss her. She could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears and feel it in her face. She could feel his pulse racing as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his chest of warm, strawberry blonde hair. She traced her fingers from his navel, up past his chest and to his mouth. Sucking on her finger, he shuttered and sighed, gripping her tighter. He cupped her breasts with his hands and began to fiddle with her nipples as they poked their way through her blouse. It was evident he'd lost himself in the moment and was not following logic any longer. She pulled her shirt over her head while he blindly kissed her between the breasts. His breath was hot now, searing her skin as he traveled down the line of her body, to the top of her jeans, stopping at their button. He fumbled with the button of her jeans as she fumbled with the ones on his shirt. He stood her up and yanked his shirt off over his head as he swept her into his arms and placed her on the floor in front of the now roaring fire. Between the heat of their bodies and that of the fire, their sweat blended once again. Two bodies sliding together, seeking closeness and the ultimate release of their tension. She wiggled out of her jeans, leaving her in her new pretty bra and panty. She'd hoped at one time he'd approve of her choice, now all she could think about was him being inside her body and moving them to simultaneous release. She smelled clean and woodsy with the headiness of musk beginning to rise to his nose. It was the smell that made men weak, and made them want to bury their heads in a woman's muff. The aroma overtook him and he pulled her panties off. She gasped and shuttered. Smiling into her eyes, he winked. He delicately entered her with his finger. Back arched, she moaned. "You like?" he asked hoarsely? She could only respond with a loud growl from deep inside her throat. She was gone, she had left her body. Controlled only by his movements and her body's reactions to them. "You smell so good. I want to taste you, "he stated in a controlled voice. "Yes," she murmured. He skillfully allowed his tongue to glide over her lips. Licking the outer edges as he went. He parted her, revealing her wet pink inner sanctum. She continued to wiggle and moan. This was it. The moment she'd fantasized about and masturbated over. He drank in her essences. Licked her clitoris until he knew she was close to cumming. She begged, "Don't stop." He smirked, he liked the power his skills and prowess gave him over women. He lapped up her juices, enjoyed her aroma. Placing all his needs aside, his only goal right now, was to make her cum over and over again. He'd get fulfilled later. In order for that to happen as easily as this did, he knew she would need to feel a sense of comfort with him still. He returned to her mouth, kissing her deeply. Allowing her to taste herself on his lips. "I want you to fuck me!" she demanded. He giggled and winked, "Yes dear." He stood and released himself from his jeans. She licked her lips as she saw how rigid he was. God he was beautiful. She kept her eyes locked on his as she touched herself. He watched her pleasuring herself for what seemed an eternity, until he couldn't control himself anymore either. He returned to her side and pulled her on top. She slid down his shaft, head back, breasts forward. He knew from their conversations that this was her favorite position, and it pleased him too. He watched her as she appeared in to be in anguish, but knew she was more near ecstasy. He marveled at the way the skin on her breasts reflected the firelight and bounced about as she rode him. He could feel her gripping his dick tighter inside of her. It was time. She couldn't wait another second. Her back arched. Her throat tightened. Her heart pounded. She clenched on to him with her thighs. Enjoying the ride and hearing her own moan escape from her chest. He watched as she bucked again and again. He closed his eyes and joined her in her world. He clenched his teeth and floated away for a second as he felt the ripples of his own orgasm overtake his body. She felt him raise her up and set her back down with his own powerful spasms. With each of his contractions, she tightened and released again. She began to giggle. He opened his eyes and looked at her like she'd lost her mind. She winked.
In he walked, searching the faces. Their eyes met, he winked and a wide smile covered his face. She blushed and the butterflies did somersaults. "Please don't let me throw up," she silently giggled and prayed.
Tentatively they embraced and gave each other a friendly kiss on the lips. It was a shy, purposeful kiss, but one she'd felt in her dreams nightly. She inhaled his scent, not wanting to pull away, not wanting this feeling to ever end. Even these slight touches between them, made her body respond. If he'd suggested they forget lunch and move to desert, she would have left with him, then and there. They fumbled over conversations that usually flowed. Both knowing. Both wanting it to end the same way.
Throughout the meal, they had smirks on their faces, as they felt the tensions ebbing and flowing. He locked eyes with her and winked. She winked back. They held hands leaving the restaurant. He had a noticeably nervous laugh and sweaty palms. She felt the sweat of their hands mingling and allowed her mind to wander to a place where she would feel more of his skin sweating against hers. She wasn't sure she'd make it to the next stop on their journey.
They raced to the car like two kids to their first sexual experience. Embracing and allowing the moment to take them away. Allowing some of the tensions to be released. He again, locked eyes with her and winked. It's how they always said goodnight to each other at home and gave some silent indication of what was to come. She crumbled under the warmth of his hands and they followed the curve of her neck and traced her jaw. She could feel her heart racing and her panties becoming moist. "Where to?" he asked. "Your arms," she replied.
They drove to the cabin he had rented for himself in the woods. She was staying at a nearby hotel so as not to raise any suspicions. Once inside, he took her hand and led her to an overstuffed chair by the fireplace, while he built a fire to keep the damp night out. She sat and watched as he bent over, flexing his muscular shoulders and cursing quietly under his breath as the fire refused to take. She chuckled at his nervous hands. He turned and winked. Again, the silent message of what was about to begin.
Finally, a warm light enveloped the cabin. She was warming up but continued to shiver in anticipation. He moved towards her and held out his hands. She noticed for the first time how rough they were from his work. Manly and strong. He sat on the chair and pulled her to him. They kissed. Slowly and tentative at first. With each pass of their tongues over lips, it became more urgent. She thought she'd have an orgasm before he'd done more then kiss her. She could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears and feel it in her face. She could feel his pulse racing as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his chest of warm, strawberry blonde hair. She traced her fingers from his navel, up past his chest and to his mouth. Sucking on her finger, he shuttered and sighed, gripping her tighter. He cupped her breasts with his hands and began to fiddle with her nipples as they poked their way through her blouse. It was evident he'd lost himself in the moment and was not following logic any longer. She pulled her shirt over her head while he blindly kissed her between the breasts. His breath was hot now, searing her skin as he traveled down the line of her body, to the top of her jeans, stopping at their button. He fumbled with the button of her jeans as she fumbled with the ones on his shirt. He stood her up and yanked his shirt off over his head as he swept her into his arms and placed her on the floor in front of the now roaring fire. Between the heat of their bodies and that of the fire, their sweat blended once again. Two bodies sliding together, seeking closeness and the ultimate release of their tension. She wiggled out of her jeans, leaving her in her new pretty bra and panty. She'd hoped at one time he'd approve of her choice, now all she could think about was him being inside her body and moving them to simultaneous release. She smelled clean and woodsy with the headiness of musk beginning to rise to his nose. It was the smell that made men weak, and made them want to bury their heads in a woman's muff. The aroma overtook him and he pulled her panties off. She gasped and shuttered. Smiling into her eyes, he winked. He delicately entered her with his finger. Back arched, she moaned. "You like?" he asked hoarsely? She could only respond with a loud growl from deep inside her throat. She was gone, she had left her body. Controlled only by his movements and her body's reactions to them. "You smell so good. I want to taste you, "he stated in a controlled voice. "Yes," she murmured. He skillfully allowed his tongue to glide over her lips. Licking the outer edges as he went. He parted her, revealing her wet pink inner sanctum. She continued to wiggle and moan. This was it. The moment she'd fantasized about and masturbated over. He drank in her essences. Licked her clitoris until he knew she was close to cumming. She begged, "Don't stop." He smirked, he liked the power his skills and prowess gave him over women. He lapped up her juices, enjoyed her aroma. Placing all his needs aside, his only goal right now, was to make her cum over and over again. He'd get fulfilled later. In order for that to happen as easily as this did, he knew she would need to feel a sense of comfort with him still. He returned to her mouth, kissing her deeply. Allowing her to taste herself on his lips. "I want you to fuck me!" she demanded. He giggled and winked, "Yes dear." He stood and released himself from his jeans. She licked her lips as she saw how rigid he was. God he was beautiful. She kept her eyes locked on his as she touched herself. He watched her pleasuring herself for what seemed an eternity, until he couldn't control himself anymore either. He returned to her side and pulled her on top. She slid down his shaft, head back, breasts forward. He knew from their conversations that this was her favorite position, and it pleased him too. He watched her as she appeared in to be in anguish, but knew she was more near ecstasy. He marveled at the way the skin on her breasts reflected the firelight and bounced about as she rode him. He could feel her gripping his dick tighter inside of her. It was time. She couldn't wait another second. Her back arched. Her throat tightened. Her heart pounded. She clenched on to him with her thighs. Enjoying the ride and hearing her own moan escape from her chest. He watched as she bucked again and again. He closed his eyes and joined her in her world. He clenched his teeth and floated away for a second as he felt the ripples of his own orgasm overtake his body. She felt him raise her up and set her back down with his own powerful spasms. With each of his contractions, she tightened and released again. She began to giggle. He opened his eyes and looked at her like she'd lost her mind. She winked.
Sexy Comes in All Shapes
He wasn't the typical man she enjoyed being with. He was loud, brash and somewhat of a womanizer. He loved women but expected them to serve his needs. This made her giggle every time. He was such an idiot. Yet, it was this very thing that attracted her to him. Physically, he's what she liked. Huge. She loved big men. Not just tall, but physically large. It might as well have been on her profiles—MUST WEAR SIZE XL OR BIGGER. He wasn't sloppy though. Just comfortable in his own skin. Proud of what he'd become and prepared to tell you in no uncertain terms. This made her laugh as well. It was ridiculous, yet sexy. He was divorced, with a young child. His son lived with his mother, and he loved spending time with him. He was sexiest when he was going to see his son for the day. He radiated joy. His eyes twinkled and he was gentle. On the contrary, when he left his boy at the front door of his old home, he was sad. Unbearably. He didn't speak much. He radiated the opposite. He needed to cry, but wasn't sure how. Macho men don't cry. He didn't need her, nor did she need him. But they enjoyed the others company. He had a girlfriend, whom she knew everything about. The girlfriend however, knew nothing of her, including her existence. The secret created a hot energy between them. They were sneaking around, yet no one was really getting hurt. She had children as well, but they were old enough to pretty much be on their own now. Her husband was simply—gone. She had a lot of time to kill and enjoyed the thrill of him. That's all she was in this for. Thrills. She truly felt no emotional attachment. When he had a date, she did her thing. If he saw his son, she hung out with her own kids or friends. She'd see him again. Eventually. It didn't really matter when or if ever. When it was good, it was fucking good. When it was bad, she left. She didn't have time for brooding.
.. ..
They ran into each other outside the school after dropping off kids. They were as comfortable with the other as always. He was really confused. Must have been a late night. Lack of sleep was the norm for him. He invited her to his house for some coffee and talk but warned that he was exhausted and really needed to get some sleep before work that afternoon. He worked crazy hours. There was his afternoon radio show and then the subsequent gigs afterwards. The downfall of his marriage. The upswing to her independence in the relationship. She didn't know if he was faithful to just the two of them, and she didn't much care. She agreed to go with him. It had been a few days and she felt like hanging out with him for an hour or so. No strings. They got into his car. He started to make that illegal left turn out of the school's parking lot, tried to correct it into a right turn, pissed off the parents behind him who honked and cursed. She laughed at his frustration. He laughed because she laughed. Soon they were hysterical and the more the others honked, the more they laughed. It felt like they were driving in circles. They pulled over into the neighboring orange grove to catch their breaths. "Fuck it!" he said. "Climb on!" and pointed to his back. She climbed on his back and he started towards his home with her on his back. They laughed so hard at what others must be thinking. Surely they were recognized by someone's parent. Here they were, two rather large people, laughing their asses off next to an elementary school and running down the street. When he got winded enough, they got back in his car and drove to his house.
....
Inside, he poured coffee and offered up a bachelor's breakfast of stale bread. "Uh no thanks," she chuckled. He told her about the previous night's gig. He knew he could tell her everything that happened. How women flaunted around him, how they made him offers, how they rubbed up against him. He knew she was not going to get pissed off and stomp away. He knew she found humor in other's stupidity. He appreciated her maturity and confidence. In fact, he found it sexy. She never bothered him for more. She knew where she stood and he knew she'd put him in his place if he deserved it. If he could make one woman out of both of his, he'd have the perfect mate. This one had most of what he needed, but the other one was physically sexy to any warm blooded man who could walk. Although, this one, was getting sexier to him with every minute. He felt himself getting aroused, but knew he had to get some sleep. Actual sleep. True sleep. FUCKING SLEEP! He talked himself into sleeping. "Hey, I'd love for you to stay. Seriously, I would…but, well, you know…."
....
"Hey no problem," she laughed. She knew she'd only need to wink or give him a long kiss and she'd be staying. She enjoyed that power, it equally aroused her. The bimbo, didn't have this power over him. He had it all in that relationship. Here, it was all hers. "You know where to find me. Give me a call sometime. You know, when you're not busy," she winked.
....
He chuckled, "Yea ok ok, I know. She's clueless still. Gets all pissed when I don't call or text. She makes me nuts, yanno? But what can I say, I'm a guy," he shrugged.
....
"Whatever. See ya later." And off she went to take care of some errands and lunch with a girlfriend.
....
He walked her to the door. He shook her spell off as easily as he'd shaken off his clothes from last night's gig. He preferred his naps naked. Saved time when he had to get up and shower for work. God, how could that woman affect him so strongly. He tended to be attracted to super sexy, silicone inflated, head giving idiots. Here was a woman who was older, secure, heavy, got him to give her pleasure first. He didn't understand it. Normally he'd hate a woman like her. He'd tried. But she intoxicated him. She almost made him want to give up the bimbos. Almost. Maybe. She stayed with him until he was snoring.
....
She had a nice morning with her pal. They laughed about her male chauvinist pig friend. She never referred to him as a 'boyfriend.' He was not a boy, he knew what he was doing. Boys needed training still. He only needed directions. Directions seemed to turn him on. He took direction well. Again, the power was hers. Older woman share the knowledge of this power and rarely share it with men and even then, it's only with their gay male friends. It was mutual though. He made her feel sexy. Desirable. Naughty. She excused herself from brunch and said, "I have a quick stop to make before I head home," she giggled. Her friend knew, so there was no use telling her. They both laughed. Her friend said, "Oh sure, you're off to wake up the bear and I'm off to feed the rabbit. It's not fair I tell you," she laughed and smirked.
....
She had a key to his house. He trusted she would use it appropriately. He knew she wasn't particularly impressed with who he was but instead with who he is. She slipped the key quietly into the front door. Opened it slowly so as not to wake him just yet. She could hear him snoring. Good. It would give her time to surprise him. She opened his bedroom door enough to sneak in. He stopped snoring. He knew, but didn't let on that he did. He felt her. As soon as she sat down on the edge of the bed to kiss him, he grabbed her and rolled her over him onto the bed. He growled like a bear and snuggled into her. They kissed. He gave up on sleep. He'd manage somehow.
....
She had to leave for a weekend to take her daughter to a tournament. Her girlfriend was going to keep her company. She knew he'd be there too. She wasn't really sure why he was going, but had heard he would be. She also knew the bimbo would be on his arm, which made her laugh. She and her friend kept an eye out for them everywhere they went. She knew she couldn't call or text him. They had an unspoken rule. If she knew he was with the other one, she shouldn't contact him. She didn't really give a shit. Perhaps it was his only bit of power over her, but she didn't give too much of a shit. They spotted him. He spotted her. Their eyes locked, she smirked, he turned away. He prayed she would abide by the only rule he had. Oh how he prayed. If the bimbo found out, he'd have quite the scene on his hands. How on earth was he going to control a shrieking, crying banshee in a public place while he also kept his temper as she laughed her ass off at the site. Please God, don't let her call my cell. She didn't. She texted instead. Just something harmless and simple. "Hi." She watched him turn pale as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. They laughed out loud at him. Loud enough that others turned their way. He looked nauseas as he opened the phone. "Please God," he prayed. He read it and glared at her. She knew he was pissed and the tiniest bit scared she'd ruined everything. The bimbo was oblivious and didn't appear to notice anything. In fact she was getting up and leaving, to fix her makeup or left breast, or something. She smiled across the stands at him. He continued to glare and shook his head. She knew he'd scold her but also knew they'd laugh about it later when they were once again lying in his bed.
....
.. ..
They ran into each other outside the school after dropping off kids. They were as comfortable with the other as always. He was really confused. Must have been a late night. Lack of sleep was the norm for him. He invited her to his house for some coffee and talk but warned that he was exhausted and really needed to get some sleep before work that afternoon. He worked crazy hours. There was his afternoon radio show and then the subsequent gigs afterwards. The downfall of his marriage. The upswing to her independence in the relationship. She didn't know if he was faithful to just the two of them, and she didn't much care. She agreed to go with him. It had been a few days and she felt like hanging out with him for an hour or so. No strings. They got into his car. He started to make that illegal left turn out of the school's parking lot, tried to correct it into a right turn, pissed off the parents behind him who honked and cursed. She laughed at his frustration. He laughed because she laughed. Soon they were hysterical and the more the others honked, the more they laughed. It felt like they were driving in circles. They pulled over into the neighboring orange grove to catch their breaths. "Fuck it!" he said. "Climb on!" and pointed to his back. She climbed on his back and he started towards his home with her on his back. They laughed so hard at what others must be thinking. Surely they were recognized by someone's parent. Here they were, two rather large people, laughing their asses off next to an elementary school and running down the street. When he got winded enough, they got back in his car and drove to his house.
....
Inside, he poured coffee and offered up a bachelor's breakfast of stale bread. "Uh no thanks," she chuckled. He told her about the previous night's gig. He knew he could tell her everything that happened. How women flaunted around him, how they made him offers, how they rubbed up against him. He knew she was not going to get pissed off and stomp away. He knew she found humor in other's stupidity. He appreciated her maturity and confidence. In fact, he found it sexy. She never bothered him for more. She knew where she stood and he knew she'd put him in his place if he deserved it. If he could make one woman out of both of his, he'd have the perfect mate. This one had most of what he needed, but the other one was physically sexy to any warm blooded man who could walk. Although, this one, was getting sexier to him with every minute. He felt himself getting aroused, but knew he had to get some sleep. Actual sleep. True sleep. FUCKING SLEEP! He talked himself into sleeping. "Hey, I'd love for you to stay. Seriously, I would…but, well, you know…."
....
"Hey no problem," she laughed. She knew she'd only need to wink or give him a long kiss and she'd be staying. She enjoyed that power, it equally aroused her. The bimbo, didn't have this power over him. He had it all in that relationship. Here, it was all hers. "You know where to find me. Give me a call sometime. You know, when you're not busy," she winked.
....
He chuckled, "Yea ok ok, I know. She's clueless still. Gets all pissed when I don't call or text. She makes me nuts, yanno? But what can I say, I'm a guy," he shrugged.
....
"Whatever. See ya later." And off she went to take care of some errands and lunch with a girlfriend.
....
He walked her to the door. He shook her spell off as easily as he'd shaken off his clothes from last night's gig. He preferred his naps naked. Saved time when he had to get up and shower for work. God, how could that woman affect him so strongly. He tended to be attracted to super sexy, silicone inflated, head giving idiots. Here was a woman who was older, secure, heavy, got him to give her pleasure first. He didn't understand it. Normally he'd hate a woman like her. He'd tried. But she intoxicated him. She almost made him want to give up the bimbos. Almost. Maybe. She stayed with him until he was snoring.
....
She had a nice morning with her pal. They laughed about her male chauvinist pig friend. She never referred to him as a 'boyfriend.' He was not a boy, he knew what he was doing. Boys needed training still. He only needed directions. Directions seemed to turn him on. He took direction well. Again, the power was hers. Older woman share the knowledge of this power and rarely share it with men and even then, it's only with their gay male friends. It was mutual though. He made her feel sexy. Desirable. Naughty. She excused herself from brunch and said, "I have a quick stop to make before I head home," she giggled. Her friend knew, so there was no use telling her. They both laughed. Her friend said, "Oh sure, you're off to wake up the bear and I'm off to feed the rabbit. It's not fair I tell you," she laughed and smirked.
....
She had a key to his house. He trusted she would use it appropriately. He knew she wasn't particularly impressed with who he was but instead with who he is. She slipped the key quietly into the front door. Opened it slowly so as not to wake him just yet. She could hear him snoring. Good. It would give her time to surprise him. She opened his bedroom door enough to sneak in. He stopped snoring. He knew, but didn't let on that he did. He felt her. As soon as she sat down on the edge of the bed to kiss him, he grabbed her and rolled her over him onto the bed. He growled like a bear and snuggled into her. They kissed. He gave up on sleep. He'd manage somehow.
....
She had to leave for a weekend to take her daughter to a tournament. Her girlfriend was going to keep her company. She knew he'd be there too. She wasn't really sure why he was going, but had heard he would be. She also knew the bimbo would be on his arm, which made her laugh. She and her friend kept an eye out for them everywhere they went. She knew she couldn't call or text him. They had an unspoken rule. If she knew he was with the other one, she shouldn't contact him. She didn't really give a shit. Perhaps it was his only bit of power over her, but she didn't give too much of a shit. They spotted him. He spotted her. Their eyes locked, she smirked, he turned away. He prayed she would abide by the only rule he had. Oh how he prayed. If the bimbo found out, he'd have quite the scene on his hands. How on earth was he going to control a shrieking, crying banshee in a public place while he also kept his temper as she laughed her ass off at the site. Please God, don't let her call my cell. She didn't. She texted instead. Just something harmless and simple. "Hi." She watched him turn pale as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. They laughed out loud at him. Loud enough that others turned their way. He looked nauseas as he opened the phone. "Please God," he prayed. He read it and glared at her. She knew he was pissed and the tiniest bit scared she'd ruined everything. The bimbo was oblivious and didn't appear to notice anything. In fact she was getting up and leaving, to fix her makeup or left breast, or something. She smiled across the stands at him. He continued to glare and shook his head. She knew he'd scold her but also knew they'd laugh about it later when they were once again lying in his bed.
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