Monday, January 10, 2005

A series of close shaves

Keep those Bloggie nominations coming, gang! Maybe your ol' perverted pal Steve will win a blogging award! Lord knows I have busted my ass enough to deserve one.


January 1, 2005.

I pride myself on paying attention to minute details. I notice things that other people wouldn't see in a million years; that is one reason why I have climbed the corporate ladder so quickly. So, you can imagine how hard I am on myself when I miss something obvious.

Yeah, I was loaded last night. Forget three sheets to the wind; I was an entire Wal-Mart bedding department to the wind. Totally, completely shitfaced. But that's no excuse.

Alcohol doesn't affect me the way it probably affects you. I get bolder and more arrogant when I am drinking. My inhibitions decrease. That's certainly not unique. But as I mentioned earlier, I never lose control. I never black out; I never forget anything. And I can pass any sobriety test you want when I am loaded. I can pound shots all night long, then get up and walk a perfectly straight line or recite the alphabet backwards with no problem. Drunks call it "instant sobriety". Mom had it too. She just chose not to use it most of the time.

With this being the case, you can imagine how upset at myself I am for not remembering to give Cherise her earring back.

"When did you get an earring," Steph says.

When trying to talk your way out of a jam, the way you act is just as important as what you say. You can come up with the best excuse your girl's ever heard, but if your eyes are darting around the room, and you're chuckling nervously, she ain't buying it.

The realization of what happened hits me all at once. Instantly I remember, the flirting, the earring, the forgetting to take it out. Nothing happened! Wouldn't it suck if she gets pissed at me for nothing? I've got to make sure I treat this exactly like the non-event it is.

I reach up and touch my earlobe to buy myself a little time, smiling dismissively. "Ahh, that belongs to Cherise. Damn! I forgot to give it back."


"You know my neighbor Joe? It's his neice from out of state?"

"And she gave you an earring?"

"We were talking about piercings and I mentioned I had a pierced ear, and she said, 'Here, put this on, let's see if it's still open'," I say, pulling out the earring and laying it on the nightstand.

"Talking. Right. I'm sure you were flirting," she says, smiling.

"Nothing happened," I say, evenly.

"I know. I trust you, Steve."

She climbs into bed next to me. "Did you miss me?" she asks, batting her eyes.

"I TOTALLY missed you." We kiss, separate, then kiss again. There's a long pause.

Then we are on each other like vultures, kissing and groping desperately. It's been a long time, and we were fighting, too. This ought to get interesting very quick.

I slide my hand under her sweatpants. No hint of underwear.

I'm liking this girl more every day.

I cup my hand over her perfect buttocks, reveling in their smooth roundness. My left hand finds its way under her sweatshirt. No bra.

Her breast is firm and taut in my grasp, and I go immediately hard.

"Ohhhhh," she says. "I was thinking about you the whole way down here."

"You were?"


"Did you touch yourself?"


"In the car? While you were driving?"

"Yeahhhhh," she says, as if she is high. "I wanted you soo bad."

"What did you want to do to me?"

"I wanted your big hard cock inside me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmmmm. I wanted you to fuck my pussy nice and hard."

I am so hard I can barely take it. I get off the bed and pull her sweats off, almost forcibly. She sits up and flings her sweatshirt off.

I sleep in boxers, so I slip them down, and I'm naked before she is.

I sit back down on the bed. "Did you shave again?" she asks.

"Yeah, about once a month."

"I like it. I didn't like it at first."

"I like it too."

She stares at me for a moment. "Shave me."

Oh, HELL yeah! NOW this girl is speaking my language!

There's no hesitation on my part. I reach out with my left hand and slide my nightstand drawer open, pulling out my trimmer with one fluid motion, almost without looking. I flip it on; it buzzes like a hummingbird.

I pull her legs over the side of the bed. I really should get a towel for this, but I don't dare stop now.

I press the trimmer against her flesh, lightly, and draw it slowly downward, watching her light blonde hair fall to the comforter.

"Ohhhhh," she moans. Yeah, getting trimmed feels really good. I'm usually half-hard myself by the time I'm done.

I move the trimmer to the left and pull it downward again, slower. Then again, slower still, agonizingly, achingly slowly.

"Ohhh, God, Steve, I want you to fuck me. I want your big fat cock inside me." I look up; she's gritting her teeth, almost like she is angry.

She's almost totally clean, now, but I shave her again for good measure.

I pull the trimmer away, admiring my handiwork. Her breathing is deep and labored, like she's just run a race. There is no trace of pubic hair anywhere on her. My cock gets harder still, throbbing, almost painfully.

"Are you wet? Is your pussy nice and wet for me?"

"FUCK yes. Oh my God - you HAVE to fuck me right now," she says, in a lusty, husky voice that I've never heard from her before.

I flip the trimmer off and fling it to the nightstand. I leap onto the bed. She squeezes me between her legs, pulling me to her.

I enter her easily; it's bare skin to bare skin. Watching myself penetrate her without any hair in the way makes it look ten times hotter. And dirtier.

"Uhhhh," she grunts. "I love your cock...I love your fucking cock so much."

I pump it into her, hard and fast. I'm standing on my knees, leaning over her, her legs pinned to my sides. We must be quite a sight, as naked as the day we were born, our bodies wrapped up tightly in a little package, fucking each other's eyeballs out.

"Your pussy is so nice and fucking hot," I say.

"That's 'cause I want you," she says.

She looks up at me. "Are you gonna videotape us one day," she asks.

I hear her, but it registers very slowly: "Viiiiiiiiiiid-eeeeeeeee-oooooooooo-taaaaaaaape......."
It's like Robin Williams says: God gave men a penis and a brain, but only enough blood to run one at a time.

I realize what she is saying now. She's going for Girlfriend Of The Year, isn't she?

"You want me to videotape us?" I say, pushing my cock deeply into her, slower now. "You want a tape of us fucking?"

"Uh-huh," she says. "I want to watch you fucking me with your big fat cock."

"OK, baby," I say. It's about all I can manage.

I lean back a little and feel myself hitting a different spot. "OHHHH!" she cries. "Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!!"

I have all I can do to keep from orgasming. I can feel the climax building, and in desperation I grab my scrotum and pull down slightly. I may have bought myself a minute.

"Oh God I am gonna come," she says. "Oh SHIT! Oh God please keep fucking me..."

I look at her. Her nipples are at full attention; she grips my forearms with trembling hands, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

She presses her knees more tightly against my sides; I can feel their every tremble as she rides the orgasm out.

Without another word, she reaches down to the part of my shaft that is not inside her and rubs slowly, languidly, up and down. I pull out slightly; she rubs faster.

I am crazy with lust. I almost can't see; it's like there are bright lights in my eyes.

"Do you want me to blow a huge fucking load on you?" I say.

"I want your fucking cum all over me," she says.

I can't stand it any more. I pull out of her and rub my cock against her smooth pussy, spraying hot jizz all over her stomach.

She grabs a handful of the comforter and lays it over the thick white puddle on her abdomen.

Great. Looks like more laundry tonight!

She pulls me on top of her, so that we are both laying flat. She puts her hands on my back, tracing her fingertips in lazy circles, like ice skates. She stares at me for a long time. I stare back.

At this moment, I realize why I didn't want to be with Cherise. I realize why my gut was telling me to stay true to Stephanie. I am happy when I am with her, and it's a happy that I will never, ever find with someone I don't give a shit about.

She puts a finger between my shoulder blades and runs it down my spine, lightly, barely touching my skin. I'm covered in gooseflesh.

She puts her finger between my shoulder blades and runs it down my back again, this time stopping at the small of my back and turning sharply to my left.

Weird, I think.

Between the shoulder blades again. She makes a big circle. Her eyes are fixed on me, big and curious. She's.....reading me.

Wait a minute. Is she.....SPELLING something on my back?

Her finger goes to my right shoulder blade, then diagonally down to my waist, then diagonally back up to my other shoulder blade.

Yeah, she's spelling something, all right. She doesn't have to finish.

"I love you too," I say.