The Sex Chronicles

When we got to your floor and got off the elevator, I almost gave myself away by walking toward your apartment before you even told me whether it was to the left or right. I caught my mistake just in time.

After propping my ankle with the imaginary injury up on a pillow, you left me on the couch, went to get a couple of bottles of Snapple fruit juice from the kitchen, and then turned on the television. Chris Tucker was on cable, so we decided to watch, and his ass was hilarious.

I was really watching you and not the tube. You looked so fine, I wanted to drink your bathwater. Now that I was in your place, I had to figure out how to get in your bed. I had to tread cautiously, since I knew you already had a woman, but like I said before, she was just borrowing you from me.

After the comedy hour went off, an R-rated movie came on. When they flashed the warnings across the screen saying it contained nudity and extreme sexual content, I was happy because I was counting on it helping to get you in the mood. I was praying you didn’t reach for the remote to change the channel, and you didn’t.

My ankle wasn’t hurting at all. I was big-time frontin’. The only things aching on me were my breasts and the tender, wet area between my legs. The movie turned out to be a pretty good one—a little bit too good, because you became so enthralled in it that our conversation almost ceased altogether. I just lay there, peeping at you out the corner of my eyes from my position on the couch. You were sitting over on your love seat, all into the flick.

Prescott, I swear, part of me wanted to get up, leave, and let you go on with your life with the other woman. After all, I was living a life of crime, destined to end up in the big house or get taken out in a blaze of glory. If nothing else, at least the other woman could have offered you a stable and secure future.

I couldn’t do it, though. I couldn’t give you up without a fight, so I tried to get you in bed instead. I told you all about my life. Well, some of it. Everything I said was true too. I just happened to leave out the illegal activities. I told you about my abusive childhood, my alcoholic mother, how my first sexual experience had been against my will, how no man had ever truly loved me, how I felt I would never know what it feels like to be cherished and adored.

You forgot all about the skin flick and listened intently. I started crying, and it wasn’t fake crying either. I had never come clean with anyone like that before, with the exception of Penny, and it felt good to release all the pain. It was as if I turned the couch in your apartment in to a chaise longue in a therapist’s office, because I laid out my heart to you. It wasn’t even all about the sex anymore. I began to feel a closeness to you, a sense of warmth overcame me, and it was one of the greatest moments of my life.

You came over to the couch, put your arms around me, and I cried on your shoulder. You held me so tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn on her shoulder in the rocking chair of the hospital nursery. It was then that I knew I had fallen for you bad. My feelings were totally indestructible and irreversible.

To this day, I can’t recall everything that happened next. Somehow we ended up lying on your bed together, with my head resting on your chest, and I could hear your heart beating. It was such an intensified moment. Your heartbeat was so profound, it made me feel like I was part of you, inside you like a fetus inside a womb. In a sense, all the love and affection I felt I missed out on from my mother seemed to flow out of you.

You kissed me on my forehead first, then my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and finally my mouth. I partook of your thick, wet tongue gratefully, and we delved into a kiss that knew no boundaries. I relaxed my throat so you could push your tongue even farther into my mouth. You were so passionate, so loving.

You undr

essed me with gentle, strong hands and made love to me for the rest of the night. In fact, we didn’t leave your apartment for three whole days. You called in sick, and I pretended to call in sick when I really called Penny instead. You wouldn’t answer the phone at all, letting the voice-mail service answer for you. You wouldn’t answer the door, and we barely ate a thing besides each other.

You washed my hair in the shower, gave me candlelight bubble baths and then licked me dry, delighted me with massages, and tempted my taste buds with your delicious body. We made love all over your place, everywhere from the kitchen counter to the balcony, but my favorite was when you banged me slowly up against the wall from behind.

You started off by lifting me up against the wall and sucking on my breasts. You let me down briefly and lifted me up against the wall, upside down this time, and started eating my pussy out. I followed suit and started sucking your dick, even with all the blood rushing to my head. Good thing I’m flexible.

After we did that for a good while, I told you I was feeling light-headed, and you stopped so I could stand upright again. I loved the whole thing and wished I could have held the position longer.

You told me to face the wall and put my hands up. You rubbed the head of your dick up against my ass and then pulled my ass out toward you so it could rub against my clit.

I felt your dick enter me, and I came so hard, the first of many orgasms up against your living room wall. Your dick took on a rhythm of its own as it started going in and out of me, slowly at first, the intensity growing with each stroke. We both came over and over again, and I prayed the episode would never end.

After the three days were up, you knew it was time to go back to work before you lost your job altogether, so I followed suit, lying and saying I had to get back to work too. You never mentioned the other woman. Mysteriously, after my first night there, her pictures disappeared from your dresser mirror. You probably shoved them under some clothes in a drawer when I wasn’t in the room.

You went back to work, but we started seeing each other all the time, spending as many nights and weekends together as we could manage. I lied to you and told you I couldn’t receive calls at work. I asked you to page me all the time instead.

Eventually, I got sick of all the lies, told Penny my love for you was stronger than my love of money, and quit the business . I found a job as an administrative assistant and worked the old nine-to-five.

Two months later, all of the jewelry stolen from your apartment mysteriously reappeared in a brown envelope delivered by the mailman. It was a miracle, or so you thought. Truth be known, I worked my ass off to get it all back. It wasn’t easy either, since the time limit on the pawn ticket had expired. I had to pay extra to get the stuff back. Fortunately, all of the items were still there, except for one—the ring.

One of the guys who worked at the shop owed me big-time. I called in a favor and got the address of the person who purchased it. I had to cross the blue line of the law one more time and steal it back. I figured it was a better idea than knocking on her door and asking to buy it.

Today, I love you more than ever. You have given me all the things I never thought I would have. You have fulfilled my every desire. One day soon, I hope you’ll put a ring on my finger. If not that one, another one. I will gladly say, “I do!”

My Knight in Shining Armor

Journal Entry—June 1990

Dear Diary,

The worst part of growing up is finding out that your knight in shining armor has been eaten by time’s dragon….

When I was a little girl, I didn’t have the dreams and fantasies that most little girls have. Normal little girls dream of being a beautiful princess trapped in a tower by an evil queen. They dream of a handsome knight on a big white horse rescuing them, taking them to a magnificent castle full of servants, and showering them with diamonds and treasures.

Well, instead of being a beautiful princess, I was an average little darling in my dreams. Instead of being trapped in a tower by an evil queen, I was locked in a closet by my evil stepmother. Instead of my knight riding a big white horse, he straddled atop a big black Harley. Instead of taking me to a castle, he took me to a small log cabin out amid the woods with a fireplace and lots of windows so we could see nature’s creatures and they could see us. And instead of showering me with diamonds and treasures, all I could think about was the way he could make me feel.