Friday, November 05, 2004

The return of Lila, conclusion

Some of you readers really need an attitude adjustment lately. Just to prove a point, I ought to make you wait until Monday to find out what happened, but because I am a big softie....


"I need to talk to you," I say.

"What do you need to talk to me about?" Stephanie says.

"Well, I mean, if we're really gonna get serious at all, there are things we need to discuss."

"Such as?"

"Like, jellybeans. I don't even know what your favorite jellybean color is."


"So you see what I'm saying then?" I say.

"I have a confession to make," she says.

"You ate more than one Lay's?"

"No," she laughs.

"You cheated on the People magazine crossword?"


"Yooooou...bought a box of cereal you hated just to get the prize?"

"STEVE!" she says, giggling. "Will you please let me finish?"


"Remember how I left my jacket in your car last week?"


"I was talking to a girlfriend at school, and I said, 'I left my jacket in my boyfriend's car'."

I don't get it. WTF is she confessing for? What's so bad about telling her girlfriend that she-


She called me her boyfriend!

Actually, though, what's bad about that? We are together all the time, and we are screwing, and I do like her a lot, so what's the problem?

But then again, we do have some issues to discuss. Real ones.

"That was pretty bold!" I say.

"Are you OK with that?" she asks.



"You HAVE a boyfriend."

"So you want me to break up with him?"

"I don't WANT you to do anything. Do what you feel."


"I'm not cool with being a boyfriend if there's another guy in the picture."

"Me too. That's why I'm glad you broke up with Lila."

"So you're glad about that?"

"Mm-hmm. I have you all to myself now," she says.


Thursday, October 28. 11:00am. Dan Johnson calls.

"Steve, I've been speaking to a few of the managers down there," he says. "I guess you're pissing some people off."

"How so?"

"Demanding new reports, holding people to deadlines, cutting people off at meetings before they're done speaking..."

"It's like I say," I begin, "If you're pissing people off, you're probably doing something right."

"HAHAHAHAHA!" he says. "Yes! Yes! I love that! Think of someone like Iacocca; you either love him or hate him. There's no in between. Being disliked is an important trait. It MEANS something."

"If you're making everyone happy, you're either promising too much or lying," I say.

"True. I have to say it, Steve: You're doing a wonderful job. I'm very proud."

Thanks, Dan. Do me a favor: Tell Ross about that. And then, when he gets that you-just-kicked -me-in-the-balls look, snap his picture, ok?

I'm really happy that Dan said that. He's been somewhat critical of me lately, and I was beginning to wonder how he thought I was doing. It's good to know I am where I should be, performance-wise, but I've got to cut down on my workload. I'm working 60 hours a week, now, and sometimes more.


Friday, October 29.

You already know what happened at the cemetery, but not when we got home.

As we race from the cemetery, Steph says, "YOU are sleeping over tonight!"

We get back to the house, and walk through the front door into the living room. We flip the light switch for a tabletop lamp. Nothing. Burned-out light bulb. We change it.

Steph goes into the bathroom and flips the light switch. Nothing. ANOTHER burned-out bulb. "WHAT THE HELL!" she says. "Oh my GOD, this is weird!"

"We really pissed somebody off," I say.

We watch TV for hours. It's 1:00 am.

The TV casts a pale, flickering glow over us in the otherwise dark room. We're both laying down on an overstuffed couch. I roll over on top of her.

I kiss her neck slowly. She's covered in goosebumps.

"The red tide is in," she says.


"I can take care of you, though," she says.

She kisses me, slowly, deeply.

"You really like kissing, don't you?" I say.

She smiles, and reaches her hand around my back, sliding it down to my butt.

"You have a nice ass," she says.

I unbutton and unzip. She slides her hand under my boxers, squeezing a handful of ass.

Her full, pink lips hang open. I can feel her hot breath on me. Her eyes are closed, her impossibly-long lashes resting on her cheeks.

She kisses her way down my stomach and slides a hand under my shirt, pinching my nipple. Yeah, that's working for me.

I lower my pants. I am fully hard. She lowers her head onto me.

I take a handful of her blondish-brown hair and flip it over her shoulder. It's a turn-on to see how wide open her mouth is as she blows me.

I rub the top of her head, gently. I never understood the concept of grabbing a girl's head and ramming it down on your cock. It just seems like a good way to get a lapful of puke.

Steph is really good at covering her teeth. To me, the best kind of blowjob is one where it's completely wet and warm, almost like you are fucking.

She pulls my cock out of her mouth and holds it in her hand, licking my balls, slowly, staring at me as she does.

She licks me again. I am throbbing now, my head going back, my eyes closing...

"You like that, don't you?"

"Mmm-hmm," I say.

She licks the length of my cock and swirls her tongue around the head. "I love your cock," she says. "You are SO nice and hard."

"You see what you do to me?" I say.

She plunges the length of it back into her mouth, all the way down to the base, then pulls it out slowly. Then in, then out again, then again, faster.

I am going to fucking explode. She can tell. She pulls me out and starts to rub, but it's totally unnecessary. She squeezes her eyes shut as she gets yet another facial. This girl is gonna have the healthiest skin in the world if she keeps this up.

"By the way," she says, "my favorite jellybean color is black."