Sweetest Taboo 1

24 May

30 minute write. Basically writing whatever story comes to mind within 30 minutes. No thinking too deep and no editing (that much). Just write. Go…

I feel ridiculous. My knees planted into the carpet. Waiting…just waiting. I look foolish. Was I supposed to dress up? It’s 11 o’clock at night. Or was I supposed to dress down, I thought, as I glance down at my gym shorts and tank top. Well the least I could do was take my hair down. I reached up and started unraveling the single braid that was going down my back. Wait. Or maybe she wanted it up. Fuck This was not supposed to be this complicated. Our meetings were never complicated. So what was different? Oh yeah, she wanted to spice things up. Make shit kinkier than it already was. Which actually equaled to making things more complicated than they already were.
A smirk grew on my lips as I started to remember exactly why I was on my knees at 11:03 pm in the living room facing the front door. She had stole my original ideal. In a attempt to make my relationship with my girl more interesting I told Angela after I get home from my 3 month tour with my band, I wanted her on her knees, waiting by the door, naked,( except for those pretty red heels), like a good little girl ready to cater to my every need. I could see the hesitation in her eyes but I knew deep down she didn’t want to disappoint me. And as I gave her one last kiss just before I left, I felt her body shudder against mine. I knew, that when my 3 months were up and when step foot through my door, I would have the best damn sex of my life.
Well…either she forgot, or thought I was just bullshitting around, or simply didn’t give a damn, that night when I stepped foot inside my house, there was no chocolate goddess on her knees waiting for my becking call. Not even a semi nude chocolate goddess. Hell, was anybody even home. I heard a slight shuffling from the hallway as my girl entered the livingroom. Sleeping scarf wrapped haphazardly around her head along with her big flannel night gown.
“Hey, baby your home.” Angela said between yawns.
“Yes…I am.” Maybe I hadn’t made myself clear.
“There’s some leftover’s in the fridge if you want to warm it up.”
If I want to warm it up. “Okay, babe.”
An image of her ripping off that big curtain, she called a night gown, and tossing it to the side to reveal a sexy red lingerie, as she playfully giggled, “Sike!” crossed my mind. Yet that was quickly dashed away as she plopped down on the bed and resumed watching tv.
Weeks later I told Charlynn of my uneventful sex life as she simply died laughing.
“Man, I’m sorry to hear that.” She said between fits of laughter.
“Yeah, I see.”

Now here it was months later, I never knew I would be in Angela’s position. Maybe Angie did try. Maybe she was waiting for me, on the hard tile floor, but got cold feet. Or simply felt utterly foolish and chickened out. Kinda what I’m feeling now.
I remembered Charlynn’s request. It had come after several weeks of us not fooling around. Perhaps she was getting tired of me. Maybe her conscience was kicking in and she couldn’t bear the thought of cheating with me behind Angela’s back.
At our usual hangout spot at a local bar and grill I finally bought it up.
“So…what’s up with us.”
She simply raised an eyebrow.
“You know, we havnt done nothing in like weeks.” I continued.
She simply nodded.
“So it’s cool if you wanna stop. Man, just let me know.”
She let out a long sigh and reclined back in her chair as she took a sip from her beer.
Charlynn was your all around typical cute stud. Brown, not light, not dark, just brown. Gorgeous shoulder length locks. Full lips with defined cheekbones. Dark eyes that you could just fall in to, with the longest lashes any femme would be jealous of. Never in a million years would I think that I would be messing around with my best friend of 10 years. Not just my best friend, but my ‘boy’. And not just my boy, another damn stud. Who knew that the only sexual relief I could get was from a another stud. But hey, whatever. She was the perfect outlet. Nobody would ever guess. I could sleep over every night if I wanted to and Angela would never suspect a thing. Everything was gravy.
Or was it. Was Charlynn having second thoughts?
“Yeah, it’s been awhile.” She finally responded.
She took another slow sip of beer and set the glass on the table.
“How about you do for me what your girl couldn’t pull off.”
I tossed my head back and laughed,”Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” She said flatly. “Be at my place Sunday night. I don’t know when I’ll be home. Somewhere between 11 and 11:30. I want you waiting for me. And try not to screw it up like Angie.”
And that was the end of that.
Now here I was, still on the floor at 11:15, waiting.
This is absolutely ridiculous. When was this fool coming home. Not only was I starting to get annoyed, but I wasn’t in the least bit turned on.
11:17pm. Whatever
I got up, flinching at how sore my knees were. Damn, when was the last time I had been on my knees for 15 minutes straight. Never, I smirked to myself. I curled back on the couch. She’ll get over it. We can still handle our business. No need to get arthritis in the process I thought, as I massaged my left knee.
I couldn’t have dosed off in that short amount of time. But apparently I did. My eyes bolted to the clock hanging on the wall. Eleven thirty-two. Fuck

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Posted by on May 24, 2011 in Poetry


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