tomgirlx93@yahoo.com
Stories from the Life- Love Don't Live here anymore.
3/7/04
COPYRIGHT 2005
(Oral, Masturbation)
I wasn't exactly sure why I wallowed out of bed today. I could still feel the after effects of all the beer and bud I had ingested hours before. My hangover was subtle, but it was still there. I took a long shower in hopes of feeling more alive, less dead. Failure. I stumbled to the kitchen in my bathrobe and tried making java. Failure. I attempted to make something to eat, a small meal was what I had in mind. Failure- I hadn't been grocery shopping in weeks. I slipped on some clothes- chinos, hoodie, and boots- and went for a walk. Late fall comprehended me with its dainty touch. Its amber and brown presence acquainted me on my paseo.
I've always loved the fall. Its that time of the year where the weather is left unblemished by immoderate heat or wintry winds. I inhaled; my senses celebrating the aroma of a leaf's death. Evet always liked the fall as well. We'd go for long walks, leaves palpating under our steady strides. When the appeasing winds brought unendurable chills, she and I would nestle close under layers of flannel. We'd end up fucking to keep us warmer. She'd moan for me to fuck her pussy. Not with my fingers, but with one of the few sex toys we had possessed. I'd strap-on a harness and make love to her in numerous positions. My favorite way was simple: I'd kneel before her, bring her ass to rest on my thighs, and pump at a steady pace. This position allowed me to kiss her tender breasts more easily while I fucked her. She would come several times, screaming for me to keep going after each one. Nail marks and thin scars tessellated my shoulders after she'd had enough. We would playfully roll around in the rumbled sheets, until she decided to rest in my arms. Her skin was so soft.
I settled on going to the Eastside and browse the shops. There was zilch else to do, so why not? I had a meaningless conversation with an senile woman on the bus. She said things like; the weather....my oldest son....it is quite nice today...do you have a boyfriend?.....any children of your own?......times have changed.' I was only half listening. I was shoved by some fag with a rather wide body on my way off the bus. Gay body-builders are so rude. Its times like these when I inquire to myself Why take the bus? Why not your car that has barely moved?'. Then I stop and think, first, how silly I am to have such a trivial argument with myself. Next I think, `Because Chicago traffic is a bitch and it can be avoided.'
I passed Tiffany's and Louie Vuitton. I window shopped, wishing I could afford half the things meekly displayed before me. Some of my friends could. They all had better jobs. Meliorate careers. While I was picking through clothes at Old Navy, Red was cashing out at prep stores (journalist/ published writer), Kimera couldn't quite stay away from Brooks Brothers and Eddie Bauer(Real estate lawyer), Chloe and Skyla could buy out any shop on Michigan Ave. if they really wanted to (born filthy rich), and Demetrius kept a hip wardrobe of mens' clothes.(model). I own my own business- engraving headstones- but it will never reward me with such things.
I went into Chanel to say hi to a friend. Tammy was the manager. I spoke with her for a second, feeling very put off by all the expensive merchandise and wealthy customers. I asked how she was doing, trying hard not to make any reference to the past. Tammy's girlfriend shot herself in the head a year ago; leaving a hand-written, twelve page letter expressing how useless and unloved she felt. Remembering the night I received the news made my spine shiver, right there by the cosmetics. No one could ever look at Tammy again without being reminded of the incident. How does she go to sleep at night? I wonder.
I shimmed down to Caribou and ordered a snowdrift. I looked and there she was- my ex. It was becoming harder and harder not to run into her. She spotted me too, and gave me a weak smile. How soothing. I made my way over to where she was sitting. She was alone. Thank god. I didn't want to be forced to say anything to Janis- the woman she left me for a year ago. No. Actually, I left her when I found out about Janis.
I had known about it too long before I let Evet know that I knew. On her lunch break one day, I told her to meet me at our favorite coffeehouse. I started by telling her I loved her. Then I eased in the facts about her lover. Evet's face dropped when I addressed how I knew when it was starting, and when it was finished. I paused to take a deep breath, and to stop the tears. I didn't want her to know how hurt I really was. I stood, leaned down to kiss her forehead, and walked on my way. When she went home that night, I'm more than sure she noticed all of my belongings were gone. Demetrius, Kimera, and Red helped me move while Evet was at work that morning.
"Nice to see you." I said.
"I'm tired and not in the mood." Evet responded.
"I'm fine." I hated to be sarcastic, but her attitude forced me to do so.
She wants me back. I know Evet does, but she has excuses : I don't want to hurt you again... I'm confused....I need to be with someone else right now.' There have been those occasions where we've "accidently" kissed each other or ended up in bed together. This whole friend thing isn't going to work if we keep this up'. Evet had said this after we fucked on her hardwood floor. What was that? A week ago? However long, she hadn't called me since.
A Year Ago....
Red was the one who told me to leave Evet. She addressed me one day while I was at her house:
"I see you're free today.""Yeah , Evet had me do everything yesterday." I had responded.
"Hmm. And like a good dog, you did." Red's tone was thick with satire.
"What is that supposed to mean?" I frowned.
"You know what it means. You're not that stupid, Barrick." Red had a way of saying things to make them stick. "She treats you like a dog. Not to mention she's cheating on you."
"What?" I knew, but didn't want to admit it at the time. I wanted it to all go away somehow.
"B, its so obvious. You tell me how she comes home late, some bitch's number is all over her cell, she doesn't meet you for lunch anymore. I could go on. It's like she wants you to know. Leave the bitch! She's a hoe. A slut. You don't need that. You deserve better."
It wasn't until three months later that I took Red's advice, and everyone else's for that matter. I didn't want to go. I'll admit that. I wanted to stay and be with Evet. I had hoped it could be worked out. Finally, I concluded that trying to fix something long broken would be a waste of time. After all the nights I stayed up crying, my self-esteem crashing, and my love not being returned, I made calls to all that I knew would help, found an affordable apartment on the other side of town; making all the proper arrangements before finalizing my plan to leave Evet.
Present Time.......
So there in Caribou, Evet wore that all too familiar, guilty, manifestation on her face. She knew what we had done. We vowed to never sleep together again. Since I left, we fell into the habit of having spontaneous sex. It was understandable, I suppose. Any girl I've ever broken up with, or had broken up with me, always asked the same question just before parting ways: "We can still fuck, right?". I don't know what it is about me. What, am I only good for sex? Am I that good, that anyone I try having a relationship with can't see past my `skills', and surpass all the other good qualities about me? It seems so.
"Your phone cut off or something?" I asked.
"No. Why?" Evet wouldn't lift her eyes from her novel, she was evidently not really reading.
"Because you don't call. How do you just-"
"Please! Don't bring it up." Evet halted me before I could speak anymore.
I suddenly didn't have a taste for my snowdrift. I left silently. What was the use of me being there anymore? I got back on the bus, this time less crowded, and went home to get my car. I then drove to my shop 30 minutes away. I had put the place together with my bare hands. It was a broken up, road side shack when I bought it. All of my savings went into it. It was an old place that sold flowers for burial plots and engraved tombstones. Its immediate use is just the same. Why change it when a cemetery is right across the street? Easy business.
I'm pretty much the only employee, accept for Birdie- the cute, roller skating baby dyke that works for me on the week days. Saturday and Sunday she has off so she can do her baby dyke things. Customers are scarce during the week. On weekends, they're almost none existent. Sitting there in the quiet shop, alone, is relaxing in a strange, necromantic way. Though it shares the empty dirt road with a cemetery, it's a pretty copacetic spot to be away from the city sounds I fall asleep with, and wake up to. On cool, leaden afternoons- the ones where the clouds fall with the rain- the road becomes calm and silent. So silent, that you could almost hear the innuendo of the sagging weeping willows that decorated the graveyard. Eerie but surprisingly relaxing. Its enough to lull me to an eternal rest- if I decide to smoke a joint on the job.
Today I sat there, a clear Sunday, and read the funny pages of the Tribune. I had been sitting in the shop a while. I was supposed to be working on a Jewish headstone. As soon as I entered the place hours before, I went to get the design but got distracted. The huge, gray stone was laying in the back- waiting to have chisels of Hebrew letters that spell out a long, complicated name and dedication. I was finally brought from the world of funnies when I heard the bell over the door ring. I looked up and there was Evet. She gently bit her bottom lip as she stood there not saying a word. She was dressed in a long, white ruffled skirt, a baby blue, long sleeve shirt that clung to her slender frame, and a sullen expression.
"What brings you by?" I set down my paper.
Evet didn't answer. With swift movements, she came to me, pulling me off the stool, and leading me to the back room. She laid back on the blank tombstone.
"We... can't...do..this..here." I said through an intense kiss.
"Please just fuck me." she begged shamelessly.
I raised her skirt, revealing her bare crotch. I wanted to suck her nipples. As I did so, her hands pressed on the top of my head, pushing me down. I gave her what she wanted. I let her feel my tongue lick her frothing hole. I sucked her clit into my mouth and, at the same time, teased it with my teeth. Her dark pubic hair was soft against my face. She still tasted and smelled the same. I couldn't get enough. Finally she snowballed, leaving a white puddle on the marble headstone. Some drizzled down my chin. I fetched some napkins-having nothing else for her to wipe with- and handled them to Evet. She cleaned herself up quietly. The whole time holding a guilty, shameful look on her face. Her fair skin was flushed with pink. She waited as I cleaned the marble stone of her fluids. After, she made her way to the door.
"Wait! Why are you leaving?" I rushed to her, needing an answer.
Evet looked back at me, damp strands of her dark hair clung to her face. Her light brown eyes, gleaming, were dilated slightly. Evet's skin slowly paled to its fair shade. Why did she have to look so stunning at that very moment? It was a moment that I knew she'd say nothing and leave me alone. And she did just that. I sat back on my stool, and blankly stared at the horoscopes.
"Dear Taurus, anticipate this to be a rather confusing day. Avoid this by staying home and taking care of the petty things around the house. Being a homebody for the day is best right now. The past looms on the outside. Stay in."
These things tend to be read a little too late. They always seem to be accurate when you neglect them. Irony is a very existent thing. I shifted in my seat. It was then that I realized how soaked my Jockeys were. If there was one thing I could count on Evet to do, besides heartbreak and discombobulation, is her science at getting me incredibly wet.
I rarely ever let anyone `top' me. It would be a waste of time for them. My ability to orgasm isn't potential. The only way I could ever achieve a sexual climax was either doing it myself or by letting Evet have her way with me. She's the only person able to do that. It's a phenomena I contemplate often. When Evet's fingers brought my body to a flaming orgasm for the first time, it shocked me more than anything. Before Evet, countless women had sunk their hands into my briefs, an attempt to get me off. It never happened. It did feel good when they coated my body with lipstick stained kisses. The foreplay did arouse my sex. I did get moist from their delicate actions. When they went down on me, I did stir and groan when just the right spot was stimulated. However, no matter the effort, I just could not come. I figured my drive to do so was shot, and would never be fixed. Then Evet came along.
Four years ago....
We met in the summer. The very beginning. Evet was a regular at the park I jogged to every so often. I'd see her and she would see me. We never acknowledged each other until she finally approached me. She thought I was cute. I thought the same about her. We hung out on the lakefront almost every night, and verbally wrote out our life story to each other. Evet thawed the wall of shyness I tend to put up when around girls I actually like. She made the move to hold hands first, initiated the first kiss, and seduced me for our first bedroom romp.
Evet undressed herself slowly in front of me, while I reclined on the pillows, looking on while my skin sizzled from excitement. The foreplay was long, and drawn out for all the right reasons. Evet didn't have to say when she was ready for me to go all the way. Her eyes told me what to do. Her gaze was all the direction I needed. Her hands caressed me like feathers as I pleated her pert nipples with kisses and licks, my fingers buried in the darkness of her insides. My lips sloppily pleasured her, when I orchestrated my full attention to her sex. I was so hungry for her. Finally getting her flavor on my tongue had me addicted. Slick cream filled my mouth, and her body rocked when she came. I slowly swallowed her secretions down to savor the taste.
Evet pinned me on my back. She took me over, and I surrendered with little clemency. I was wrong about her fingers. I thought they'd fail just the same as others before her had. I stood corrected when my body trembled, and my inner walls pulsed rhythmically. I couldn't believe it had finally happened, and with a girl I went to sleep thinking about, and woke up wanting. When she got me off orally, I knew that I was in love.
Present Time......
I closed up the shop as night descended. I managed to inscribe the marble stone of its foreign lettering. Guilt would strike me when the funeral would come around. When the family of the deceased cry on that day, they will never be conscious of the adultery committed on the precious rock before them. God does scare me to an extent. I cleaned up what needed cleaning, made sure of any flowers I may have neglected, and locked up. I took the street home, knowing traffic would be crucial. As Lenny Kravits accompanied me on the way there, I continued my `Evet cerebrations'. Hunger struck me in the middle of my thinking. I went to the Osco and loaded up on essential groceries, and some junk food. The evening shoppers dotted the store like a Wednesday morning. I used to imagine stores like this would be crowded on a Sunday. Whatever. I was thankful for the awol, long lines.
At home, after putting away bags of food, I showered off all the sweat that had collected on my skin throughout the day. Working in the shop was hellish in any weather. It was more of a greenhouse than anything. The muggy temperature was to keep the life of the plants plausible. I found myself flicking on a fan in the centrical part of winter. During the summer months, doors to the small shop stayed open and numerous fans would be running.
I moisturized my skin before slipping into a Hanes tee, and a fresh pair of boxer-briefs. I slipped on some long socks, and pattered to the kitchen. I munched on a bag of Sun Chips while I sat on the table, swinging my legs, thinking of what to do for the remainder of the night. I popped on the small television on the counter opposite of me. I switched through channels of nothing. There was absolutely nothing to watch. Old, unheeded sitcoms, and overly dramatic crime shows shined unsteadily across the screen. I had forgotten, the day was a Sunday. Hardly anything ever comes on, on a sunday. I half watched several shows. I paid little attention to them, though my eyes were focused on the screen. The phone rang suddenly. I jumped to answer it, praying whoever was on the other end wanted to do something worth doing.
It was Red. Thank god.
"Come over here." I had said. Red too was searching for something to do. "Cool. I'll be there in a minute." Red informed.
She doesn't live too far from me. Not quite walking distance, but could make it to my place under ten minutes by car. Red had Kimera with her when she showed up.
"Where's the wife?" I asked Kimera.
"She's out-of-country for the week. Been gone since friday morning and I'm already dying." Kimera replied.
It's sweet to know two people, that have been together since highschool, can still love each other so much after so long. I'm envious of that. We camped in my living room; cleared the coffee table, set out beer and cigarettes, and rolled a few blunts. The scent of evergreen ganja unhollowed the intervals of my small apartment. We opened windows to air out the smoke. The autumn breeze blowing in from outside tickled me. My skin sensitized as my high tardily elevated. Short minutes passed as my body relaxed, my brain melted, my eyes lowered, my vision faded to a dull tint, and giggles forced their way out of my throat. I was stoned. Red was laying on the floor, staring at the rotating ceiling fan above us.
"I'm sooooooo blown right now." she seemed to say slowly.
By this time, we had smoked at least three blunts. We chatted about our day, drifting off topic often because our minds were running reels of thoughts. Drinking a chilled Heineken assisted my high smoothly. I was sitting on the floor, my back against the couch. I lit a Newport and my high swirled behind my eyes, teased my head with frisson, and I loosened up more.
"I'm so good right now." I muttered with a silly grin on my face.
"Turn on some music." Kimera demanded lazily.
I switched on my dusty stereo and popped in a mix. The notes of the songs seemed to float from the speakers. It seemed as though they were becoming true to being seen as well as felt. The singers that serenaded us seemed to be right there in the room. Natalie Merchant informed us of how kind and generous her lover was. KD Lang expressed displeasure about her constant craving. Tori Amos told us the story about the cornflake girl. My head bobbed slowly as Ani DiFranco revealed her secrets.
"There were some things that I did not tell him. There were certain things he did not need to know. And there were some days that I did not love him...." Ani confessed. Her voice was supplicatory and unapologetic.
"How does she do it?" Red questioned.
"What? Who?" Kimera asked.
"Ani." Red's voice was coated in bliss. "Her words...her lyrics. They are soooo deep, man. So deep."
"She's a genius." Kimera sighed.
I laid my head back to absorb Ani's brilliance: "I expected summer would be there in the morning. I woke to the alarm and she was out of arm's reach. Sneaking out on silent thighs, that were spent and sore from the hot nights which came before........."
I took a long drag off the fourth blunt. Though it burned in my chest, I held the smoke in until it disappeared inside my lungs. I expelled little of what was left of the intoxicating haze, and puffed my cigarette. A swig of beer wet my drying throat. Red lit her own cigarette and smoked it to the filter. Kimera hummed to herself, mimicking the tunes of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, as they sung about their unhealing scar tissue, followed by how they were breaking the girl.
The junk food I had purchased earlier came in handy later on. We downed snack cakes and chips.
"I'm gonna be so fat after this." Red joked. She didn't have to worry about anything like that happening anytime soon. Her body was solid muscle. Lean, but solid. She didn't need to flex for her chiseled biceps to show. Red had washboard abs I'd die to have. She had told me stories of being the center of fat jokes back in highschool. Serving four years in the army shed those pounds for her.
Our highs dissolved the more we ate. Kimera and Red would have stayed longer, but the time was late. We all had work the next day. After the two went on their way, I cleaned up the living room. I took out the trash, though it was 1 in the morning, and went to my bedroom after turning off the lights, closing the windows, and checking the locks. I huddled under the covers, stretched out on my back, and stared at the ceiling. I was no longer stoned. The drowsy after-effects promised to put me to sleep. However, my hormones were wide awake. It never fails. Whenever I smoke weed, I become horny.
I reached for my vibrator. Cranking it up to the highest speed, I rubbed it on my clit. Visions of long hair, jaunty breasts, and soft lips performed in my head. The closer I came to an orgasm, the more I thought about Evet. I tried to avoid the fantasies. I tried to avoid thinking of how good she made me feel. I forced myself to think of another woman's body besides her's. Nothing worked. I could have stopped but wanted to come badly. The more I pushed thoughts of Evet away, the further I was from finishing. Finally I allowed the thoughts. I let myself imagine my clit in her mouth. I came hard and it lasted longer than usual. That always happened if I was fantasizing about Evet.
I got up to clean myself. Returning back to bed, I laid on my stomach in the middle of the bed. It took me a while to break the habit of sleeping on one side of the mattress. Living with Evet for three years called for a lot of habits to be broken. Many I have not yet gotten around to changing.
I lay here now, not able to sleep. I've had too much on my mind. I have never thought about writing in a journal up until now. Venting on paper is relaxing. When I look back on all of this tomorrow, will I be less stressed? Maybe I'll leave that up to my horoscope.
The End....