Men's Room

I'm sitting in the bar, watching the fruitful and occasionally fruitless flirting happening around me. You've left me for a while now, because you need to see who's interested in a game. By now, I'm engaged in the same games - the glances, the quick smiles, the eyes running over their bodies.

My phone rings. "I'm calling from the men's room. Get here now," you tell me, and I balance on my heels while trying to gracefully slide the barstool back. I'm nothing if not trying to be graceful. Once arranged, I stride to the back of the room, carefully working both of my walks. I know this pleases you, my ability to have a forward walk, for those who see me approach, and a backwards walk, for those who see me exit. It's not easy to combine the two, but I manage.

I never question entering the men's room. I know better than to react. You're leaning against a closed stall, against that door. In front of you are mirrors and urinals. "Get down," you tell me, and I drop to my knees. There are men in there and they almost pull away from their business to watch me obey your command. I hope that they don't get too distracted; I know what this will mean.

You love showing me off. I love performing for you, even when it embarrasses me. Using just my mouth, I unbutton your pants and start pulling them down. I can smell your body now, and I lose my inhibitions are I get closer to your cock. Teeth first, I pull you into my mouth. The first taste of you is intoxicating; I sigh some as I feel you, so familiar and perfect, in me.

Suddenly I become aware of a pair of eyes watching me. I hear him inhale, deeply, and then start laughing. My self-awareness comes back and I pull away from you. "Don't you dare, my girl," you say to me, yet at the same time I can feel you stand a bit taller, and I know what you're threatening.

"Jealous?" you bark over my body to this miscreant. "If you'd only shown some respect, you might'd had her too." Grateful, I lean closer to your body and being to pull your cock deep into my throat. Thank you for defending me, I think, as I suck you in as deeply as I can. For my work in being grateful, I will earn you inside my cunt. For now, I love running my tongue over you, using my suction to entice you, and when you come in me, I feel marked by you. Marked as yours.

I lie back, running my hands down my body as I do so. I love the curve of my breasts, the way my hips start to move as I run my hands down further. We're playing a new game tonight, a game that shames me and excites me in equal measures.

"Daddy, I found a place on me that feels good to the touch," I say, as you look over my body. "Show me," you say. I'm a little embarrassed, but my skin is so good to my touch. I run my ring finger over my left nipple. Over and over, until the tip begins to rise. "I can put it into my mouth, but I can't suck on it," I say to you. "Show me," you say. I do. I pull my breast into my mouth and run my tongue over my nipple, again and again, as I look into your face. "Look!" I say, and blow my breath over my nipple, making it harder.

"Good girl," you say to me, as I start to move my right hand over my hip. It's such a good feeling, to see my Daddy watch me touch my own body. I can see the pleasure in your eyes as I explore myself.

"Did you know this would happen?" I ask, because I've never seen such a look of intensity on your face. "Of course," Daddy tells me. "Now show me what else you've learned about you."

I run my left hand further down my body, over my stomach, my hip, and down towards my... "Daddy, it feels so good to touch myself here, is it OK?" "Yes, baby," you tell me, as I see you position yourself over me. "Now, my precious little girl, relax, and let me show you how good it can be," you tell me.

I envision me on my back, hair splayed behind my head, as you kneel on my hair to hold my head still. You lean forward to slide your cock down my throat. I cannot escape feeling you get deeper into me. You then run one, two, more fingers into my cunt, until you can get your hand into me. I am full of you and escape myself, become one only with my body and the sensations you give me.

In The Movie Now

There is no glory in trying to make love to men who only know how to fuck
Man, after man, after man, after man
Raised on porn
Out all day while he's been watching two dollar videos
Now piled by the VCR
Out all day
At work, at class, at the gym
While he's been making plans
Out all day, returning with bags of bread, and tomatoes, and bluefish for what you think will be dinner

Dinner is you
And you are nothing like the dead eyed, blonde women he's been watching
You're in the movie now

He is nothing like you remember
No time for a condom, take a pill, or put in a diaphragm
Those girls never get pregnant anyway
What are you trying to do?
Clothes cannot come off fast enough get them off get them off
Shoes are always left on you don't know why
You're in the movie now

You used to scrape your nails against the walls
Leaving streaks like scars of where you wanted to stay
And where he took you
Now you just go
It'll be over in ten minutes twenty at most
A black envelope closes with you inside
You're in the movie now

He winds your hair around his fist like a roll
And keeps it nailed to the bed
You swear you'll cut your hair tomorrow you swear you'll cut your hair tomorrow
You still swim in memories sometimes
It wasn't always like this, was it?
You are becoming stone
Stone desires nothing
Stone cannot be moved
Stone can only be worn down
Little by little
Close your eyes and think of England
You are tucked in for the fucking
You're in the movie now

There is no beauty in being held face down on a bed of sheets that tear beneath you
And you are wearing him like a country you haven't the strength to carry
You're in the movie now

You don't fight he takes it from you
He takes it from you he takes it from you
Now it isn't yours how could it be
It isn't yours anymore never will be again
One eye open focusing on a window
Years of this and you don't even say anything anymore
This is how it is how it will always be
You're in the movie now

It doesn't hurt anymore
You're shut down examining fibers in the pillowcase
Counting them until he's finished
Seventy-seven, seventy-eight, seventy-nine
He says look at me look at me it's no good unless you look at me
You look right through him look at your bookshelf
Your grandmother's patio your list of things to do this weekend
The basil is drying by the window

He says if you cry it makes him angry
I fuck better when I'm angry
You know you know he says it every time
You learn not to cry

You are startled that he's doing this to you
You are startled that he knows how
You are startled that you stay
Know that you would tell a friend to kill him if he did this to her
Your mouth is on fire with possibilities
You say nothing
You shut down your body one limb at a time
Like you learned in drama class relaxation exercises
Absence of pain makes anything possible

Because you are pretty you are possessed
You too are alone
Owner and owned
You used to confuse this with caring
You used to confuse these with caresses desire doesn't live here anymore desire doesn't live here anymore
You are turned over and over
Backstrokes in your own blood
Horses have been christened with less

There is no glory here
Only bloodstains and apologies that come with the stroking
Only throwing up in a sink
You'll have to scrub out later

- Nicole Blackman

Phone Call

Today's conversation:

Me: You don't want someone living here who makes me nervous and wants to hurt me, do you?

My Him: No. That's my job.

Later...

My Him: OK, I'm here. Do you want me to call you when I'm done?

Me: Yes, please.

My Him: God, I love it when you say that to me. Especially when I'm doing something nice for you.

Me: And a phone call is always nice to get from you.

My Him: That's not what I meant.

Me: I know.

My Him: Mmmm...good girl.

Oh, holy hell

This is short.

I made a mistake on Friday. My Him was whipping me, and oh, how it hurt. I held on as best as I could - I tried to remember that he'd never hurt me more than I could manage, but I finally said, "Please, baby, please, no more."

The beating stopped, and I could almost hear him do the same. He paused and took a breath. "What did you say to me?" he asked, and I could hear the anger in his voice. Before I could respond (and I knew better but I can be willful) he told me, "You're getting 5 more. And you will count them down."

I waited, waited to receive another lash, when he said, "Go." I started, "One." Oh, the anger in him was so strong...

I made it to 4 without collapsing. Down off my elbows, tears mixing with the sweat running down my face, I could only mouth the word 5.

The whole story

As promised, here's how the evening went down:

I met some friends at a bar that's built into a cave for cocktails. What a gorgeous place; it keeps everyone off balance, and not only because the floor isn't level.

I got ready by reapplying all my makeup, and when I went downstairs in my indigo jeans, deep green V-neck shirt, and sparkly black heels, one of my friends simply said, "You look gorgeous."

The one I wanted to see (let's call him Previous) was late. I was already into my second Cosmo when he arrived. I stood to hug him, and he kissed my cheek. Interesting, I thought. All of us talked - let me tell you the layout: There were two loveseats and a throne-styled chair at the opposite side. Previous and I were directly across from each other, about a long-ways coffee table apart. At first, it was easy. I talked with my more proximate friends, he with his. Yet, at each chance, we looked at each other. Glances at the beginning, then meaningful, close, overly long eye contact. We just couldn't help it, although I'm not sure if initially it was curiosity or attraction.

Finally, he said, "I want to ask you some questions, but I need to go." I told him to get over here and ask me. He came back with refills, and I kicked away the guy next to me. Previous sat so close to me that I could feel my thigh get warm with his body heat. We watched each other more than anything, barely speaking, not able to banter as we used to.

After a few beats, we relaxed and rehashed our entire relationship. His first question: "Do you remember the couch? Oh, how we used to fuck on that couch." Of course I remembered. I asked him if he remembered breaking his bed, or how he broke up a party at his house to be near me. He did. He asked if I remembered fucking all over my parents' house. Good lord, yes. It was amazing to know that he remembered the same things I did. He finally said, "Oh, we didn't fuck, we made love." I rolled my eyes at Previous and said, "Baby, we fucked." He smiled at me.

By then, I was running my fingers over his thighs, hiding it by crossing my leg over his. He was getting twitchy; he finally looked over and said, "The electricity, oh, god, the electricity's still there."

I knew then that I wanted him, preferably in an alley outside the cave bar. Yet we had friends there who wouldn't go away. After awkward conversations and texts and all, Previous and I finally made it outside. There was nowhere to go and limited time to spend together. There were kisses while leaning on the trunk of my car. We finally got into the front of my car and kissed and groped, and oh, god, kissed. I ran my hand over his cock, still encased in his jeans. He tried to pull my hand in. I gasped, "Help me." He opened his zipper and I started to rub his cock, and it became familiar again. I knew where to touch, where to apply pressure. He pulled my hand away, then looked at his cock and then at me.

"You want it, don't you?" I asked. "You want my mouth on you." I leaned down to suck him into me. It took some time, but I remembered the rhythm that Previous preferred, and he came quickly the first time. He has some of the best-tasting come I've ever had, and I thought he wasn't done, so I kept at him. Sucking, licking, running my tongue over his cock, and when he wrapped his hands into my hair and pulled me down too quickly, I'd pull away and run my tongue over the slit of his cock, so I could catch my breath. Oh, it was glorious to take him into me, and finally feel his cock move in the way that I knew that meant his orgasm was eminent. He pulled my hair and head closer, and when he finally came into my mouth, oh, it was perfect.

Once done, I licked his cock clean and when I pulled back up, he grabbed my head again and kissed me, over and over again. We continued kissing for a while, forever, but not long enough.

As I drove away, I listened to Chaka Khan's, "I Feel For You."