Monday, September 26, 2005

Mitzi Misbehaves

It was a stupid fight, the same fight we so often have.

Mitzi gets jealous.

I sympathize, I listen, but my tolerance is not high.

I had gone downtown to spend an evening at Mitzi’s, not long after Madeline’s visit.

I really like it at Mitzi’s place; it’s a grown-up prewar apartment, but being there feels a lot like visiting the cool dorm room in college. Mitzi tells great stories and plays rocking tunes. Her pooch sits in my lap and licks my fingers. She keeps a bottle of bourbon for me.

And Mitzi kisses so sweet.

We had drinks and relaxed on her couch, chatting and watching Jon Stewart and Letterman.

It got late. We got drunk.

We fought.

I did not want to fight. I decided to go home.

She calmed down and convinced me to stay. She told me I could sleep on the couch if was too annoyed to sleep with her.

I lay down on the couch, fully dressed, shoes on my feet, and closed my eyes.

I was furious and felt trapped.

I went to sleep mad.

I awoke the next morning to Mitzi’s eyes, gazing at me.

“I am so sorry about last night . . .” she began.

“Forget about it,” I said. “I understand. It’s what we do. It’s over.”

I was no longer angry.

I would put it aside until the next time we had the same fight.

“Will you come to bed now?” she asked.

“Yes.” I rubbed the hangover from my eyes and stood. I followed her to the bed.

I undressed and kissed her.

We fell asleep.

When we awoke, we kissed and made love.

That morning would change our relationship.

Because that morning, Mitzi got religion.

Listen to her testify.

That was a rock bottom kinda fight.

I was mad as hell. You were tired. I was in hysterics, not letting you leave my apartment.

You finally headed to my couch, the same couch whose comfort we had discussed mere hours earlier. You now adjusted the pillows and plopped down fully clothed with shoes on and fell asleep.

I was scared you were going to get up and run the minute I walked away. I went to bed sleeping with my head at the bottom of the bed.

Early in the morning we spoke, and you came back to bed with me. We slept a little while, and then made out.

I went for my Rock Chick.

I got on my tummy and rode it as you pulled at my nipples.

There was very little kissing.

My hips continued to thrust with the Rock Chick inside me stiff and curling up towards my g-spot, the large muffled silicone vibe teasing my clit.

Your naked hand found my ass.

You grabbed tight, looking at me with quiet severity.

You unlatched your palm from my skin, and then brought it down in one hard fat clap.

You began to smack my ass.

I rubbed hard.

One of your hands was on my ass, the other grabbing a fist full of my hair, pulling me close and immobilizing me while you punished me.

I cried. Your face grew fierce as you reddened me.

The smacking abruptly stopped, and the hand holding my hair—and my will—pushed me to your cock.

You shoved it down my throat.

Both of your hands were on my head now, pulling my hair, pressing me down as you thrust your cock deeper down my throat.

I gagged, drooling. You were relentless, barely let me up for air.

When you did, it was just as abrupt as the last switch. You directed me to get on my back.

Kneeling on my bed, you found the condom drawer. Your cock rushed inside me as you fucked me hard, smothering my body.

You pulled back.

Your eyes were steely.

And though you had never done it before, I knew what was coming.

Your hand was raised and flew down, delivering a swift smack across my face.

You thrust harder.

I was ecstatic.

Your hand to my face again, and my ecstasy drew tears.

Both of your hands found my face, smushing it in your palms.

You released me, and the crying felt so good.

You brought your mouth to the warm, wet, tear-strewn cheeks you'd been tanning. You more than kissed my face; you tried to eat it.

When my cheeks were sufficiently healed, you raised yourself and set to fucking me—hard.

You looked at the clock; it was just about ten.

"You see what time it is?" you asked in sips of breath as you continued to pound me. "I'm gonna fuck you until ten thirty, and then I am going to pick up and leave."

I think at this point I realized I had no words left to speak.

You fucked me hard for then next thirty minutes, taking time to stand at the side of my bed, to pound me from that vantage point.

I looked at the clock a few times. You were also keenly aware of the time.

Around ten twenty five, you lowered yourself down on me, and kissed me sweetly. We stayed there a while, your cock still inside me.

"Now, behave, or I will come back here and beat you again!" You kissed me and lifted up.

The clock read ten thirty eight.

You sat on your knees, pulling back slowly withdrawing your dick from me, torturing me until you pulled it all the way out.

I sat up in protest.

"No, look at the clock. I already gave you more time. I’m leaving.”

I had no words.

I lay in my bed as you put on your clothes.

When dressed, you took my pink lace panties from the floor and looked up. You devilishly pocketed my knickers.

You walked to my door and unlocked it.

"No!" was the reflex that popped out of my mouth.

You just looked and smiled, and then walked out, closing the door behind you.

How sad I was, Kreskin, when I found my panties left behind on the floor of my living room.

That morning, Mitzi found religion.

Now, when the devil takes hold, I beat the hell out of her.

1 comment:

Meg said...

before i came to visit you back in august, mitzi had told me, "you'll have fun - he's been feeling very dominant lately."

and damn, she wasn't kidding.

this story just gets better each time i hear/read it.