Love Hurts

October 28, 2010 at 12:10 pm (Cussed Dumbers, Sweet sticky things)

I slapped a woman in the face last night. And I’d do it again.

I should say, of course, that she asked for it. And she hit me first, if that makes a difference.

It had not a damn thing to do with domestic violence, either…

I have a reputation as a bit of a flirt at work. (The phrase Dr T uses is ‘notorious’.) I know the boundaries, but as with most things, I butt right up against them. I’m not going to do anything that will get me into work-trouble, but I may have bitten off a handful in the after-work department.

One of my local favorites is a bartender/caterer. She’s thirtyish, partial to the color black, and has the most glorious full red lips that I just want to chew on. She’s a regular at the two bars on the block worth going to, and she’s usually pretty well lubricated by the time I see her. She often stops in for cigarettes on her way to the bus.

As I was busy actually working, I saw her walk by and wave. A couple minutes later she came back, pouting.

“What’s wrong?”

“My friends are assholes.” She looked like a sad panda…

“What happened?”

“They left me at the bar! Now I have to take the bus home. I’m a big girl, it ain’t no big deal, but it is, ya know?”

Never missing an opportunity, “Could someone use a hug?”

“Yesss!” she said. We met at the end of the counter in front of the porno rack. My back cracked as she squeezed, and I mushed myself into her boobs. “Mmm, you give good hugs,” she said.

“Can I cook my popcorn?” One of the homeless sidewalk dirtbags was interrupting our moment.

“No. You can only cook what you buy here, since the cockroach incident.” That usually gets them out the door.

“What cockroach incident? It’ll only take five min-” A “Road Warrior’s” least-favorite word is NO.

“CAN’T A GIRL GET A QUIET FUCKIN’ MINUTE AROUND HERE?” My Sad Panda has a testy streak.

“Okay, okay.”

Dirtbag hit the road, and we resumed our hug. That’s when she noticed the porn over my shoulder. “Ooh! Do you have the new animated Taboo?”

We let go of each other, and she picked up the magazine. “Damn, I already have this one. What else we got in the fun department?” She began fingering through the titles.

“Oh, let’s see…” I can be the used-car salesman of dirty magazines, and love giving tips to the girls. (Heh, what I said. Ahem.) “We have five new big-butt-black-women mags that just came in, and rumor has it there’s a 70-year-old mag with a video at one of the other stores. Haven’t seen it here, though.

“Here’s another Taboo.” I opened a demo issue and put the DVD aside. She nestled up next to me, and we thumbed through the magazine. I could feel the steam rising. She felt good next to me, and her boob was rubbing against my arm. Lord let this moment never end.

“Do you have a DVD player?”

“I have a computer…”

“Turn around. I want to slip something into your backside…”

Her eyes widened and her lips pursed, but she did as she was told. I unzipped her backpack and placed the DVD inside. She immediately took the backpack off and investigated.

“Anally Yours?”

“It’s what I got, and it’s fuh-ree…”

“That’s all boring. Portland’s pretty boring when it comes to sex. I would, however, like to check out Ron Jeremy’s club sometime. Have you been?” She batted her eyelashes.

“Nah, it’s expensive if you’re a single guy, and I haven’t met any women into checking it out. I’ve had offers, and know people, but I’m not going in without a date. I’m not that creepy!”

“You’re not creepy,” she reassured me. “I just get tired of vanilla sex. I like seeing new things.”

That’s when I had a brainstorm. “How would you like to go to an amateur porno festival? I’m taking my boss for his birthday present, and I have an extra ticket. We’re looking for a brave woman to accompany us, so we don’t look like the dirty old men that we are.”

“Your boss? You mean the daytime guy with the ponytail? Iss his birthday?” She was slurring with sudden excitement. “Honey, I’ll give him a spanking he’ll never forget. I’ll dress up. I’ll make him lick my boots up to here…” She stroked her inner thigh. “You want me to come along? Really?”

“I can’t think of anyone more perfect for the job, hon.”

We exchanged phone numbers and e-mails. One of the slangers needed a $20 broke. He waited patiently with his 39-cent package of peanut butter crackers. “C’mon man, I can sneak you through.” I reached past my/our future date, thanking him for his politeness.

“Ain’t no thing. Work your game, big man!” He was off into the night, and I took his suggestion.

“I need to get home,” she said. “Gimme kiss.”

I leaned over, and she kissed me on the cheek. She grabbed a fistful of hair, yanked my head this way and that, and that’s when I bit her on the ear. She slapped me hard twice on the face. It took me by surprise, to say the least.

“Okay, now do me.”

I had all these flashes through my brain. Scenes from Blue Velvet, (“Hit me, Jeffery! Hit me!”) to the vow I made myself at eighteen to never hit a woman again, to the look of want in her eyes. If I hit too softly, she’d call me a pussy and lose interest. If I hit too hard, well, I want to make her feel good, not put her in the ER. Regardless, I had about three seconds to make up my mind. I gave her a Hollywood bitch-slap, across, back, across again. Color rose on her cheeks, and a giant smile formed. “OH. YOU are good… You can give and take. This will be fun. I’ll call you.” She blew me a kiss and stumbled off into the night.

I was dizzy in the head, sticky in the south, and breathless with desire. It took about ten minutes to recover my composure. I stumbled around, stocking things while my mind raced. When Rumpole arrived, I was in a spectacular mood. He harrumphed around and got me out of there.

Looking forward to being punished? That’s a new sensation…

1 Comment

  1. Captain Angus said,

    Georgie Porgie pudding plum,
    licked the girls and made them ___.

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