Month: August 2016

The Tower

My former lover, Lee, contacted me a few days ago.  We stay in contact, although we’ve managed to morph into a strictly platonic friendship.  We have been close since we were kids.  It’s a complex relationship.  He was with me at the hospital the day my mother died and he was there with me, a few months ago, when my father died.  We’ve been together in many forms over the years.  I’ve often wondered what would happen if we just tried going all in…you know, as a committed, monogamous couple.

And I realize that it would never work for us.  When we are lovers, it’s the thrill of being caught that fuels our fire.  If neither of us are already in a relationship, the intrigue isn’t there.  But put us together when we are not supposed to be…and you have a towering inferno of heat.  Which brings me to my saucy little story….

Lee messaged me late Thursday afternoon, “I was just at the tower.  Made me think of you.”  I was surprised by the message and said, “Oh yeah?  Which one?”

He responded, “At Exit 11”

Immediately, I was transformed by the mention of that location.  After the “Very Close Call” we had at my house, we opted to meet in neutral locations.  Lee works in the communications industry and would occasionally have to go to a radio tower site to ensure everything was running properly.  He had this wicked idea for us to meet there for a tryst.  And we frequented several around town.

If you’ve ever visited a radio tower, you know that it’s a spartan building with lots of controls and wires.  The floor is usually concrete.  Lee would have to open a padlocked gate and then a padlocked door for us to gain entry.  But it was secluded and it was just what we needed for an afternoon delight.  As long as there was a wall for me to brace myself against, Lee would navigate the rest.

We began a routine of meeting for a quick lunch and then taking a ride to a tower site.  Sometimes our appetites were so ravenous that we would meet two or three times a week.  I loved fucking Lee.  It was always more than sex with him.  We have a deep connection that makes our physical chemistry even hotter.  I loved how he bent me over while I held onto the ledge on the wall.  He would hit every perfect angle as he slammed himself into me.  I could never get enough of him.

One afternoon was particularly steamy.  We were at the tower site off of Exit 11.  We had both already gotten ours once, but we were not sated.  I wanted more of him.  He wanted more of me.  He propped my leg on a control board as he pushed himself inside me.  He rubbed my clit as he slowly and deeply sank into my hole.  It was all I could do to keep my balance.  The pleasure so much that I couldn’t contain it.  I moaned and screamed with each movement. He was turned on by my display and his rhythm became more powerful and intense.  He kept making me come over and over and eventually we collapsed together in a heap on the floor.  He was still inside me and I rode his cock, my bare knees against the concrete floor.  I didn’t care.  I was possessed with lust.

Just after he unloaded inside me, I saw the door begin to open, as the sunlight forced its way into the dark corner of the room.  “Lee?  Are you still here?” a voice called.

And I thought…can we catch a freaking break? How many times have we been walked in on, in our 25 years together?  One of his co-workers had arrived to check a setting on one of the control boards.  Ironically the one I’d been propped up on.  I quickly composed myself and Lee immediately went into work mode.  He introduced me as the IT/Communications Director of a local hospital, who was curious to see how things worked on this end of the business.

His co-worker, Ray, took one look at my sweaty appearance and knew exactly what side of the “business” I was working.  He shook Lee’s hand, nodded at me and made his way out of the building.  We got ourselves together and smiled.  The same smile we’ve shared on so many occasions before.  The “we got away with it again” smile.

Lee and I walked outside and he secured the padlock on the building.  He grinned and said, “What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?”

I smiled back at him and coyly said, “You”

tower

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

The 22 Year Old Virgin

tangled

Twenty-two.  Not 40.  But had I not intervened, he may have waited until he was forty.  I did my duty and rescued him from such a fate.

It was unseasonably cold that winter.  We’d actually had a smattering of snow, which is unusual in the deep South.  The roads were icy and I was sequestered at home…with my parents.  So the weekend after the winter storm, I was more than ready to get out and heat things up a bit.  My cousin invited me to visit him for a decadent weekend.  He was in his junior year of college at the University of South Carolina and there was always a party going on.  He had a wide variety of friends.  Men/women, gay/straight/bi, wild as hell and super nerdy.  He was a social butterfly who enjoyed them all.

I loved visiting him.  He always had a plan, an agenda, of what we would do for fun.  He was a small town boy with big city tastes.  He loved to live on the edge.  And I walked that ledge on the edge with him.  We started the weekend by going to a few parties on campus.  We both had a good time, but it wasn’t at the level of our typical shenanigans.  We were infamous for doing some crazy shit, like tip-toeing out of someone’s bedroom before their lover got home.  In fact, he was the same cousin who had taken my to the beach, where I had my first three-way.  Our stories were scandalous and I was slightly disappointed that the weekend began so tame.

Saturday was full of shopping, noshing on eclectic food and drinking.  I spent a copious amount of money on a sexy black cashmere sweater.  It was the perfect color for my milky complexion and I wore it with a micro-mini Pucci-print miniskirt and black thigh-high boots.  I was fierce.  We went to a few 18+ nightclubs, but nothing kept our attention.  It looked like the night was a wash, when we happened upon a party on the Horseshoe.  My cousin recognized one of his classmates, Tom.

Tom was a finance major, who was graduating that year and planned to continue on and get his MBA.  He wanted to intern with Barclay’s in London and eventually open his own consulting firm.  The man was smart, articulate and incredibly sexy.  Tall.  Dark.  Handsome. (And his feet were HUGE..just sayin’).  But he was a nerdy mess when it came to chatting up a girl. He could talk about the world of finance and currency exchanges, but flirty banter made him a blubbering mess.

And that’s when my agenda changed.  I had to have him. I was attracted to Tom in a different way.  He had this charm and innocence about him.  He was successful and if I am being real with you guys…he was a Kennedy.  Not related to the royals, but he had an air of aristocracy that made him seem like he was one of them.  I could tell there was a bad boy lurking  beneath the surface.  And it was my duty as an American citizen to find that beast and bring it out…you know the whole, “not what your country can do for you, but what YOU can “do” for your country” thing.  I took that seriously.

I sat next to him at the party and engaged him in conversation about European currency.  This was before the Euro and he had a vast knowledge on the subject.  My knowledge was basic, but enough to impress him that I had an interest (he seemed to pick up that I had a little bit of nerd lurking beneath my bad girl persona).  We talked for hours.  He was starting to become comfortable and sat a bit closer to me on the couch.

I peered into his big brown eyes, hoping to lure a kiss out of him, but he was still very nervous.  I realized that this project was going to take some time.  We parted ways that night with a long hug and quick peck on the cheek.  And that was okay.  It gave me something to do the next weekend.

We talked every day that week.  I could tell he was smitten with me.  We planned to meet again on Friday afternoon.  Both of us were finished with classes by 2:00 and it was less than an hour away.  I told my cousin I was coming up again for the weekend and he was happy to have me there again.  I told him not to plan much, as I was going to focus on Tom.  He understood, as he’d met someone new and was busy planning their agenda together.

Friday arrived and I showed up at his dorm in that sexy cashmere sweater and my best “good butt” jeans. He was visibly nervous, but I got him talking about something in his comfort zone and he began to relax.  We decided to try a new restaurant in the Vista.  We had an amazing meal and he was such the gentleman.  Honestly, it was a perfect date.  Part of me felt guilty for having such tawdry plans for him later.  He was such a good guy.

After dinner we stopped in at a few parties and talked with some of his friends.  He seemed more and more relaxed as the night went on.  We finally made it back to his dorm (his roommate was away for the weekend) around 11:30 that night.  We sat on his bed and talked some more.  Once again, I looked into his eyes, hopeful that he would kiss me, but not expecting him to make the first move.

He brushed the hair from my face.  I could feel his hand shaking as he touched my face and pulled me towards him.  Despite his nervousness, the kiss was perfect.  And it went like a wildfire from there.  We were locked in a fit of passion.  The kissing was sensual and erotic.  I began to wonder why he was so unsure of himself.  He certainly seemed like he knew how to kiss a girl.

He pulled me onto his lap as his big strong hands massaged my back.  My black sweater had a plunging neckline and I felt like my breasts would spill out from how he passionately touched me.  I could feel his hardness through my moist jeans and I was eager to see him fully naked.  To take him all in and study his form.  Soon, I removed his shirt and he took off my sweater.  His hands trembled as he unfastened my lacy pink bra.  He looked at my bare breasts in awe before clumsily fondling one as he attempted to lick my nipples.  He eventually found his groove and before long, we stood before each other naked.

“I don’t know how to tell you this” he whispered nervously.  “I’m still a virgin.”

I already knew, but didn’t let on.  “You are?” I asked

“Yes.  Someone broke my heart my last year of high school and I’ve not had the nerve to ask anyone out here at college.  I have buried myself in studies and just put it out of my mind.  But I am ready.”

He walked towards me, held my face with both hands, looked into my eyes and said, “I want you.”

Let’s just pause for a minute and reflect, shall we?  1.  This man is gorgeous.  2.  He is a virgin.  3.  He wants me…ME.  4.  And he’s a Kennedy.  

I gently kissed his mouth and dropped to my knees, taking him into my mouth.  He was rock hard and almost lost his balance.  I asked him to sit down on the bed as I resumed my position.  I realized that he’d never experienced anything like this before.  I knew he may orgasm quickly, so I slowed my pace, allowing him to enjoy each and every second of the experience.  He closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.  I didn’t allow him to finish, because I wanted him to direct how he wanted his first time to go.

He pulled me on top of him, as he fumbled with a condom.  I politely took it from him and had it on in less than a minute, with expert skill.  He wanted me on top.  I straddled him and slowly guided him inside me as he pulled my hips onto his.  He watched me ride his cock.  He looked into my eyes and then watched every move of my body on his, in amazement.

He came quickly and was most apologetic.  I assured him that it was okay.  He was ready to go again soon and we fucked all night long.  Him on top. Me on top again.  Him from behind.  More oral.  Showering together.  We finally went to sleep around 4:00 am and woke up and fucked more at 7:00 am.  We stayed in bed the entire day.  Exploring.  Feasting on each other.  Sharing our desires.  It was one of the best weekends of my life.

It rained for most of the weekend and when weren’t worshipping each other, we were intertwined in the sheets, watching it rain from his large dorm window.  We never got dressed or went out…We ordered pizza on Saturday and  Sunday.  We didn’t want to miss a moment together.  But eventually we had to untangle ourselves and get back to reality.

I left that evening a bit confused.  I’d been with virgins before and I enjoyed the role as a teacher. But this felt different.  I really liked this man.  He was everything I wanted in a boyfriend and the sex was amazing.  I remained in deep thought as I drove home in the rain.  The moment I arrived home, the phone rang.  It was him.  He wanted to make sure I made it safely.

We talked for hours that night and I think that was the first time I fell in love.  We stayed together as a blissfully happy couple until the summer.  He landed that internship at Barclays and headed out for a summer in London.  We tried to stay together despite the distance, but I was ready to move on.  I was not ready to find the One.  He could have certainly been the One.  But I was young and adventurous and we both decided to see other people.

Eleven years later, I was on a beach near Charleston, SC.  I heard someone call out “Tom?  Tom Kennedy? Is that you?  I haven’t seen you since USC!”  I looked up and saw Tom talking with the man who had called his name.  He was 20 feet away from where I was sitting with my family.  OMG.  He was still gorgeous.  He was married and had two beautiful children.  I was there with my husband and son.  I decided not to say anything and I made an excuse for us to change locations, because it would have been too much to see him again.

I prefer to remember him as he was during that rainy weekend in the winter of 1991.

 

 

(Photo, Pinterest)

Badass Women

 

badass chick

I love a Badass.  Badass men.  Badass singers.  Badass actors.  Badass entrepreneurs who handle their business.

But I especially LOVE a Badass woman.  I respect them.  I admire them.  I often have a slight “girl crush” on them.  They play by their own rules and they get shit done. Since there’s not a designated Hallmark holiday celebrating these extraordinary beings, I am claiming today as BADASS Chicks Day. Here are a few in my tribe, fellow bloggers, that I would like to share.

Lennon Carlyle is about as Badass as they come.  I’ve known this Beauty for longer than Jennifer Lawrence has even been on this earth.  Lennon is fiercely independent and unabashedly confident.  She never compromises her standards for anyone.  And she kicks serious ass working in a male-dominated industry.  She can party like it’s the last day on the planet and show up the next day, ALL BUSINESS. Lennon is a fast driver, smooth talker and plain and simple, she has good hair.  Always has (lucky bitch!).  She writes a hysterically REAL blog that you should check out.. https://fabulouswithglitches.wordpress.com/about/

There is the Cougar of the group.  She’s a real Badass.  Both a nurse and an attorney, this bitch gets shit done.  She is single by choice and has her pick of the litter any time she wants a boy-toy in her life.  She’s packing heat and can hold her own with anyone.  She is the leader of the #BGM, and you can find a few of her stories on Bad Girls Mafia.  She hasn’t written on there in a while…she’s too busy handling her boy-toys.  But her stories are great and I hope she gets back to posting soon! https://badgirlsmafia.com/

There is the Poet Laureate of the Badasses.  She will lure you in with interesting stories and heartfelt poems.  You will think you know what she’s all about…then out of nowhere, this Badass Chick will throw some steamy erotica on the page and you’ll have to look back and make sure you’re reading the right blog.  I’m talking about the lovely, Sandra, from “What Sandra Thinks”  This chick has some serious writing chops.  I love her take on things.  And I love her dirty little tales. You will love her too, check her out at https://whatsandrathinks.com/about/

This next Badass is the music-loving, quick-witted, lovely Lady G.  I just found her blog (compliments of my girl, Lennon Carlyle) and I feel like I’ve known this chick for years!  In one post, she took me on a First-Class, Non-Stop flight down Memory Lane, taking me to a place I’d almost forgotten.  And I am so glad she did, because I did some seriously scandalous shit back then that I need to share with you on here.  Lady G is the cool-as-hell neighbor we all wish we lived next door, because she would always be ready to pour the tea. Check her out at  https://seekthebestblog.com/about/

So go forth and celebrate the Badass women in your life. And if you want to become a Badass yourself, here are a few tips:

Take no shit, but do no harm

Handle your business

Keep your standards (and your heels) high

Don’t pay attention to the trolls talking behind your back, they are BEHIND you for a reason

If you fall on the runway of life, pick yourself up and adjust your crown, you’ve got a job to do…and you better work, bitch.

Surround yourself with strong and confident women.

Oops…almost forgot…Never act or reveal your age.

choose badass

(Photo credits, Pinterest)

 

The Good “Bad” Girl

The bad good girl

I think this percentage is off a bit.  In fact, by my stories on here, one would think it would be the other way around.  But in reality, I am really a good girl.

Just a good girl, who occasionally does bad things.

Here’s an example of the good:  I will help the old woman in the grocery store reach something on a shelf that’s too high for her.  (Not that I am tall, but I’m always in heels.) And I will donate to any charity that asks.  I’ve served the homeless in soup kitchens and bought food for the elderly.  I take in any stray animal who darkens my door.  I love babies and children and will move mountains to help a child in need.  And on occasion, I will pay for the person’s order behind me in line at Starbucks.  

And on occasion, I will leave that person a note.  Especially if it’s a hot single dad in line behind me.  Something like, “I’ve enjoyed looking over my shoulder to see you behind me in line, bet it would be even more fun seeing you like that from the side of my bed.  Enjoy your coffee.  Call me when you’re thirsty for “more”. I will save you a place in line.

JUST KIDDING!  I haven’t really done that (yet).  But I have had a few trysts with those single dads in the car line at Rocky Ridge Elementary school.  And then there was that gym teacher.  I loved to hear him blow his whistle.

Guess it was my special way of joining the PTO…like the good girl I am.

goodbad

(Image credits, Pinterest)