Shattering the Myth (25 page)

BOOK: Shattering the Myth
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I snapped out of it when tactless Becky slammed my plate down hard and asked if I wanted a refill on my iced tea. I was tripping, sitting there fantasizing about freaking some man who had only stopped by a diner to get a bite to eat. He wasn't thinking about my ass. Or was he?

As I was sitting there hitting the hell out of this bottle of slow-ass Hunt's ketchup to no avail, I felt his eyes on me and looked up. Sure enough, he was staring dead at me. He smiled at me, I smiled back, and the wheels started turning in my head. I began to ponder exactly how scandalous it would make me if I picked this guy up and whether it would classify me as a certified hoochie if I did. I let out a sigh of relief when he got up from his table, placed a tip on it, and headed toward the front door.

The ball was no longer in my corner, since he was taking his ass home and going to bed. The night turned out to be full of surprises, because he paused at the door, which his hand was holding halfway open, allowing a cool breeze to come in, and then turned around and headed straight toward my table.

My heart started pounding a mile a minute. The shit was un-fucking-believable. He came up to me and said, “Excuse me. You have a minute?”

I looked up at him and managed to utter one word, “Sure!”
He sat down across from me and just stared me in the eyes, and I was a nervous wreck. He just sat there grinning at me for what seemed like an eternity. In actuality, it couldn't have been more than a couple minutes.

Finally, he asked, “Aren't you gonna eat?” I told him my appetite was gone, and I thought I was hungry when I placed my order, but it was much too late at night for me to actually eat. It was all bullshit, but there was no freaking way I was gonna have him sitting there watching me chew my food.

We started chatting about whatever. I told him about my career and he explained how he was stationed nearby in the military and had just gotten back to the states from a long assignment in Panama.

Then, he just happened to mention the fact he hadn't had any pussy in a good while and wondered if he could have some of mine. I freaked. My first instinct was to cuss his ass out, but I didn't. Instead I asked him what he meant by “have some.” He wanted to know what the hell I was talking about. I decided if his ass could be blunt like that, my ass could do the same thing.

So, I laid it out for him and told him how I expected this turn-my-ass-out, toe-curling sexual experience, and what had really happened instead. I told him how much I love my pussy eaten and how I felt like the shit I did a few hours before wasn't even fucking. Then I asked him whether or not he just goes downtown to window-shop or does he actually purchase something.

He started laughing because of the way I phrased it. I asked him, did the laugh mean he wasn't about shit either? He leaned closer to me over the table, took my hand, and adamantly stated that he loved to eat pussy and would love to eat mine. Again, I froze; I couldn't believe the shit was happening. I left California to go on a
trip, and all I was worried about was having my coochie eaten.

After a few moments of silence, he inquired whether I was fronting or not. The man was dead serious about going down on me. He told me he would follow me back to my hotel room in his car and lick me clean. I couldn't help but blush. Normally, I would have hauled ass and ran for the hills, but there was something about him. He had such a friendly disposition and seemed like a good old country boy who would eat me like a pot of chitterlings with Tabasco sauce.

I pondered and pondered while he waited and waited for a response, telling me to make sure I was comfortable with it before I made a final decision. Becky kept coming over, asking if we wanted anything else, and we both repeatedly said no. I think she was just being nosy. As empty as the place was, she knew we didn't come in together and figured there was some freaky-deaky shit going on.

Finally, I decided I was a grown woman, and hell yeah, I did want my pussy eaten, was feenin for it even, so I told him to bring it on. He paid my check at the counter, left Becky a tip, and walked me to my car, asking one more time if I was sure. I told him I was very sure.

He followed me back to the room and chuckled when he saw the number on the door. It was three in the morning. Once inside, he told me straight up he wanted to see me naked. I took my clothes off, since there was no point in turning back.

After I was butt-naked, I got up on the bed and embarked upon the wildest oral experience I've ever had. The man was all about the pussy. He was a beast. First, he sniffed all around it like a predator in the woods seeking out some prey. He told me how much he loved my aroma and was glad I was clean. I asked him were there some women who really had bad personal hygiene habits. He replied with a loud “Hell, yeah!” telling me sometimes he could smell a woman's pussy when
he walked by her on the street because the odor was so strong and funky. I could do nothing but laugh and tell him I was glad I passed the inspection.

Then came the interesting part. Instead of just spreading my legs open and cleaning my clock, he positioned himself beside me on the bed, lifting my right leg up in the air and putting my thigh up on his back with his head facing toward my left thigh instead of directly at my clit. He lifted my left leg up in the air and pushed it outward so that my legs were spread wide apart and started eating me.

Boy, did he eat!
All I can say is the man was starving like Marvin. I lost count of how many times I came. He was not lying—he loved eating some pussy, unlike the sexually disappointing fuck who had been on the very same bed not long before. After a while, my left leg, which was hanging out there in the air, started getting tired. I put it down on the bed. He immediately pushed it back up and told me to hold it there.

I wasn't used to holding my leg up like that. Normally, the man's shoulders would be holding them both up. Instead, his back was holding up my right one, and it was mad comfortable, but my left leg was having problems. He unzipped his jeans and guided my hand to his dick. I started jacking him off, even though that wasn't in the contract. It was cool with me. I was kind of lying there with nothing to do with my hands, so what the hell.

He ate and ate, and I jacked and jacked, and he ate some more until the moment of truth arrived and he detonated. Scared me shitless too. He came so hard and made these sounds like a fucking animal. Never in life have I seen anything like that before or since.

He passed out right there, with his head in between my legs. The right one was still resting comfortably on his back.
The left one was cramped up, but holding its own, since it could finally lie flat on the bed.

The shit was too wild, and I wasn't about to go to sleep, not knowing a dayum thing about the man, so I flipped through cable channels all night with the remote while he drooled on my pussy and enjoyed his slumber.

At 7
., I told him I needed to get ready for a meeting. He woke up, turned over onto his back, and started rubbing all over his own chest and up and down the shaft of his dick. I thought to myself, “Oh, shit! Now his freaky ass is gonna masturbate in front of me!”

He did play with himself until he came. I watched it. It was sort of interesting. Besides, a woman doesn't get to see such a command performance often. Then he got up and asked me did I want his number. I replied with, “Sure, why not?”

He wrote it inside a matchbook cover with the hotel name imprinted on it, and I saw him to the door. I couldn't believe I had done that shit, but bottom line, the first guy wasn't 'bout it 'bout it, I got what I craved in the end, and it was all good.

I took yet another shower, threw on a navy business suit, went to my meetings, grabbed a pizza on my way back to the hotel, ignored the messages the clerk gave me from the lousy-ass fuck who was all talk and no action, and went to bed.

I flew back to California the next day, none the worse for wear, and now I'm sitting here writing my scandalous, yet sexually fulfilling, escapade down in my journal. It may be a long-ass time before I have something this interesting to write in here again. Then again, maybe not! The fact of the matter is, as wild as it was, I truly relished it, so I have learned my lesson. Before that night, I would've told everyone I wouldn't do something freaky like that. The lesson that I've learned is to never say never again.

The Cat Burglar

The first time I ever laid eyes on you was the night Penny and I robbed you blind. She and I had been knocking over places for the past two years. We met when we were both doing a stint in the county jail. She was in for prostitution and I was in for shoplifting a can of soup because I was sick, starving, and cold. What can I say? Life was hard, and I had to make ends meet any way I could. I grew up dirt-poor with a mother who cared more about where her next bottle of booze was coming from than her kids.

Penny and I got to talking about how life was treating us both so shitty and contemplating how we could have the last laugh. They say jail doesn't reform you—it just makes you a better criminal. In both of our cases, that was definitely true. We talked to some experts in the robbery field, since county jail was our little training academy and they instructed us well.

When we got out two days apart, we put all the plans we made in jail into action and started hitting places right and left. The first couple of times I was convinced we were headed to the big house for a long-ass time. When we didn't get
caught, I began to relax a little. Robbing people was so much easier than I thought it would be. I didn't feel guilty; I knew they were insured if they had any fucking sense at all.

Basically, Penny and I took turns between doing the actual heist and being the lookout. When we got to your place, we had hit thirty-four homes altogether; everywhere from one-bedroom apartments to mansions. We only took small items from apartments and saved the big stuff like televisions, stereos, and VCRs for houses, where it was much easier to get them out.

I entered your apartment from the balcony door, after using a grappling hook and rope to lower myself from the roof of the building down to the fourth floor. Penny had been very good about constructing your weekly schedule. I knew you were working out at the gym that night. Since she did all the legwork, Penny had seen you several times, but I never had.

That is, until I was going through your dresser drawers, looking for any valuables I could find. There were several photographs attached to your dresser mirror, ones you had slid between the glass and the black lacquer frame. There were seven pictures all together. Three were of a woman that I assumed was your lady, one was of an older woman that I pegged to be your mother, two were of a little boy that I later found out is your son, and the last one was of you.

You were standing on a beach somewhere, in a pair of shorts and a tank top, with your hand up over your forehead as if you were giving a military salute. It was obvious the true purpose was to cut down on the glare from the sun. I had never been a true believer in love at first sight until I saw your picture.

There you were, probably on vacation with the woman from the pictures. She was more than likely the one who took the picture of you. The thing that struck me first about you was your smile. You have this great smile. Then I was mesmerized
by your eyes. Most eyes look lifeless in pictures, but yours were so vivid, breathtaking even. A car horn from somewhere down below knocked me out of my daze, and I remembered why I was there in the first place.

I finished looking through your dresser and found quite a load of goodies—some gold jewelry, a couple of watches, and some earrings your lady must have left over there. I was startled when I discovered a diamond engagement ring under a pile of silk boxers in the bottom left drawer. You must have been planning to pop the question soon, and I was halfway disappointed. I took the ring even though, for the very first time ever, I felt kind of bad about stealing.

I didn't even bother going through the rest of your apartment. For some reason, I felt depressed, as if some woman had stole my man from me. Crazy, since we had never met. I was robbing your ass and feenin for you at the same time. I left the same way I had come in and used the rope to scale back up to the roof. I exited the building by taking the elevator back down to the lobby and rushing out like I had a date or appointment. As usual, no one paid much attention to me because people, the male species in particular, never suspect women as burglars. That is part of the beauty of it.

I got into the getaway car where Penny was waiting for me, in the alley around the corner from your building. While we were pulling off, I spotted you jogging down the street on your way home from the gym. Penny pointed you out to me. There was no need, because I knew who you were right away. I also knew I had to have you.

That night in my bed, I tossed and turned, thinking about you. I dreamed of you and me on the beach in the picture, making love in the sand. I dreamed of you smiling at me with your beautiful mouth and looking deep into my soul through
your captivating eyes. I began to rub my fingers over my clit with one hand and caress my nipples with the other. I did it until I came all over my bedsheets, sweating from the sex I had undertaken all alone.

BOOK: Shattering the Myth
7.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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