The Sex Chronicles - Page 35

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 A.M., 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-bed-room 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.

A whole month went by. Penny and I had long spent the cash we got for pawning your valuables. I was still dreaming about you, wondering what you were doing at every moment of every day, wondering how often you fulfilled the sexual desires of the woman in the pictures, wondering if you had gotten another ring and proposed to her.

I couldn’t take it anymore! I wanted to feel you inside me. I began to think about the best way to go about meeting you and stealing you away from the other woman. She was the other woman, you know? You and I were destined to be together. You belonged to me. She was just borrowing you for a little while.

When you were jogging home from the gym two nights later, you were wearing headphones and never heard or saw me coming until I ran smack into you and fell down on the concrete sidewalk three blocks from your building.

I grabbed my ankle, as if in severe pain. You immediately took the headphones off, knelt down, and asked if I was okay. What can I say? Desperate times call for desperate measures, and robberies are not the only things I know how to plan out.

I pretended my ankle had been sprained in the fall, and you helped me up. I faked a limp and put my arm around your shoulder for leverage. First contact, and it was awesome. You looked ten times finer up close and smelled delicious, even after working out at the gym and running. Something about a sweaty-ass man lights my fire.

I had spent much time getting my running look together. I wanted to look athletic yet sexy at the same time. I had selected some black spandex biker shorts so you could peep my ass, a cutoff T-shirt so my belly button ring was showing, and a lightweight jacket. I left it unzipped so you could get the full view without me being too obvious.

You helped me over to a bus stop bench and sat down with me, apologizing over and over again about the mishap. I told you it was cool and probably my fault anyway. Then we started chatting like old war buddies, and it was fantastic. We exchanged names. You told me your name was Prescott. I told you mine was Netanya.

After we became comfortable with one another, you asked me if I wanted to go back to your place so I could put an ice pack on my ankle. I quickly replied yes, hoping not to seem too eager. I held onto your shoulder as you escorted me back to your apartment. I was hoping like hell that no one would recognize me from the night I robbed you. Luckily, they didn’t. The doorman greeted you by your last name, and we went upstairs.

Tags: Zane Erotic
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