Disastrous weekend, chapter 3

There was no traffic, and we were making incredible time. Then Lila started taking her clothes off. She was wearing a demi bra. Deep blue; my favorite. She bent over, and her boobs shimmied from side to side, ever so slightly.

"Shouldn't I stop the car before we take our clothes off," I said.

"I'm CHANGING!" she said.

Ahh, putting on her nice dress for dinner.

"How did that dress get in the car," I asked. I hadn't even noticed it!

"I brought it to school today, then brought it to work and put it in the downstairs storage area that we never use," she said. "When I brought your lunch bag down to your car, I just put the dress in, too." Clever girl!

She pulled the dress up over her head, when suddenly, I saw the bright lights in my rear view. Some asshole's gettin' pulled over, I thought.

Guess who the asshole was!

I pulled over and stopped the engine. Then I heard a voice over the PA system: "GET OUT OF THE CAR! BOTH OF YOU!! OUT OF THE CAR WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD"

"Do you have any pot," I said to Lila.

"What?"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY POT ON YOU?"

"YES!"

"Shit! DO NOT let them search your stuff. You got it? DO NOT!!!"

"OUT OF THE CAR, NOW!!!"

I got out of the car. "My girlfriend was....is....unable," I said.

"Hands on the top of the car," The cop said. He kept talking into his radio: "I got the driver out, the passenger is still in the vehicle," etc.

He opened the passenger door. "Get out, ma'am".

"I'm not dressed!" she said.

"IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF THE CAR, I AM GOING TO PLACE YOU UNDER ARREST," he screamed.

So Lila climbs out, bare-footed, dress unzippered and hanging off one shoulder, hair everywhere. He led her several yards away, talked to her for several minutes. Then, he came back to me. "Get in the back of my car," he said.

Ahhhhh, shit. This is all I need.

He read every letter of my license plate and name into the radio. "Tango, charlie, alpha," etc. etc. It took forever.

Finally, he turned around to me. "What the hell was going on out there," he said. "It looked like the two of you were fighting or struggling. I thought you were assaulting her."

"No, we are late for a big date. I'm gonna ask her to marry me tonight." Don't freak. It's total bullshit. But I figured it might have an effect on him.

"REALLY? Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's ok. She was just changing in the car, to save time."

"She told me the same thing. I just separated you to make sure your stories matched. Just please take it easy on the speeding, ok?"

"Yes sir, thanks!"

He opened the door and let me out.

"Hey," he said. "Good luck tonight!"

That was it. No ticket, no warning, nothing.

I got back in the car. It was 6:40, and we were still 30 miles from the restaurant.

Then I hit the traffic jam.

After moving 10 feet in 10 minutes, I called the restaurant to ask them to hold the table. Then Lila's phone rang, and she looked to see who it was, and went pale.

"What?"

"It's Michelle," she said, "the girl whose house I am supposed to be at tonight. She said she would only call in case of an emergency". Lila dialed the number.

"Yeah. Why? Oh, ok. Ok, bye," she said. She hung up.

"My mother called Michelle's house looking for me. So Michelle said, 'My mom is waiting for an important call. Can Lila call you right back from her cell?'". Man, that Michelle is clever.

So Lila called her mom, and it turns out the plumber was supposed to be at her house at 9:00am on Saturday. But her mom was going to be at work, so she needed Lila to be there to let him in. So Lila promised her mother she'd be home by 9:00 the next morning.

Another bullet dodged. Hopefully, the craziness would be over now.

We finally got to the restaurant at 8:10. I love eating at restaurants after 8 at night. No matter how popular the place is, it's usually dead, and you don't have to wait for a table. Plus, you get great service, since no one is very busy.

Sure enough, this place seated us right away. Pierre, our waiter, kept apologizing for the traffic jam, as if it were somehow his fault. And he was very attentive all night long.

"What is your house wine," I asked. He told me.

"We'll take two, please."

"I'll need to see some ID for the lady." What about me? Don't I look under 21? ;-)

Lila opened her purse, took out her wallet, and did a very convincing job of "looking" for her license. "ohhhhhh," she said finally, putting her wallet away.

"Forgot it?" I asked.

"mm-hmm."

"Never mind the wine, Pierre."

"OK," said Pierre.

Pierre came back with two glasses of wine. "These are both for you, right sir?" He said, winking. He put the glasses in front of me and left.

We drank a toast, to "rest and relaxation".

After a nice, long dinner (and a 30% tip for Pierre, about 35 bucks), we left the restaurant. It was 9:15. We got to the mall at 9:30; they were closing at 10. We went straight to Victoria's Secret and bought a really nice little ensemble, victorian blue, of course. Ok, so it was over $100 - about $25 for every minute she'll have it on! Lila figured she would just tell her mother that she never got to the mall, and she'd go next week.

Then, we checked into the room. It was bigger, and had more amenities, than I could have hoped for: Huge living room, massive bedroom with two king-sized beds, THREE TV's, and whirlpool tub, to name a few. It looked like there was a lot more, but I was exhausted. I sat down on the couch to rest for a few. It was 10:15. Lila went to get changed, and I closed my eyes, just for minute.........

................and woke up at 12:45.

Lila was curled up next to me, in just her bra.

I looked at her for a long moment. Her skin was a perfect cream color, no trace of a blemish. Her eyelashes were impossibly long, her lips plump and thick, turned up just slightly at the corners. Her hair covered half her face, and one of her big hoop earrings rested lazily against her cheek. She looked absolutely perfect. There was no longer any doubt: She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. There were million-dollar paintings that were more flawed than this stupid, random moment on a couch in a hotel room.

And she was in love with me.

And yet, somehow, as I stood over the toilet, dick in hand, taking a leak, my thoughts turned to Kelly, whom I had met in the parking lot the day before. wonder if I'll ever fuck her, I thought.

I had everything any reasonable man could want. And somehow, I wasn't happy. Not even close. It's moments just like that that make me realize just how fucking sick I truly am. And it makes no difference. I still can't help it.

I walked back into the living room, and Lila was awake. "Hey baby," she said. She kissed me.

I reached behind her and unhooked her bra with my right hand (it's a rare talent), then held her face with my left. I was suddenly, urgently, incredibly hard. She laid back and linked her feet tightly behind my waist, pulling our hips together.

I like to enter a girl without using my hands. Somehow, eliminating my own touch heightens the pleasure for me. The lights were all on. I love it that way. I stood up on my knees and watched as my cock slid slowly, languidly, into her. She was already warm and slippery inside. It is amazing how fast she gets wet.

Her big, firm tits bobbed slowly as I penetrated her. The charm that she wears on a necklace slid from the front of her neck to the back.

She stood upright on her knees and pushed me down, mounting me like a cowgirl. There's a certain way she has of sliding her hips up, then down, then back, then forward. And all the while she's staring into my eyes, biting her bottom lip or squeezing her breasts.

She wears chunky rings on her middle fingers. I find that incredibly hot. That, and colored nail polish really do it for me.

The "pleasure drug" coursed through my veins. I could feel my arms and legs trembling with ecstasy. Would I kill? I thought. Would I kill for this feeling?

No. I wouldn't kill. But I would do anything else.

Her breath caught, and she stopped grinding. "uhhhhhhhhhh. Oh FUCK," she moaned.

I watched as her abdominal muscles contracted wildly. Her pussy gripped me, then released, then gripped again, then released. Lila doesn't come every time, but when she does, it's obvious.

I am very good at controlling my orgasms. I can hold it, almost indefinitely, if I try. And once I want to let it go, I can do it fairly quickly. So I relaxed all my muscles down there and let the orgasm overtake me. I could feel it welling up; I could hear it, almost like a rumbling in my ears. As it rose to a crescendo, I pulled out and rubbed my cock against her neatly-trimmed tuft of pubic hair, exploding all over her stomach and chest. I always shoot a long way; It's hit her in the face before!

I was still tired, and I laid back down. She put her head on my chest and traced lazy lines around my face with her index finger. "I love you, baby," she said.

I didn't know it at the time, but that was the probably the last time I will ever have sex with Lila.