Freedom 09: July 2

“So you really are a nasty boy.”

I think I subconsciously knew something was going to happen between us, especially when she stepped out of the car looking like some kind of 6-foot tall sex bomb, luscious brunette curls cascading down her slender back (see above).

We’ve always had an unusually strong and intimate connection. But over the ten years that we’ve known each other, it’s always remained plutonic.

Then again, so much has changed since those days, especially me. I’ve learned to at least accept if not love myself to a degree that I’m just more open to the possibilities. Ah, I’ve finally grown a pair. That’s all.

We went to the club, and it was as ridiculous as expected. Well, we did some lines first. I wanted to test the waters, and just like that New Year’s Eve all those moons ago when she first introduced me to blow, she dove right in.

The club was packed, mostly with hot women. But next to me, gripping my hand, was the sexiest lady in the place. We drank a lot of vodka, laughed at the scene, and left.

We picked up a friend of hers, a sultry, olive-skinned beauty. I didn’t ask, but I think she’s biracial. The three of us bought a large bottle of vodka and went back to my place.

We did a lot of coke. They called another friend to come over—a tall, gorgeous blond with mischievous eyes. She’d just come from getting a tattoo done on her back. To show us, she simply dropped her dress and turned around. There she was, naked except for a pair of tiny Hello Kitty panties, standing in the middle of my living room. She had lovely, brown-tipped breasts and a lean, flat stomach. Her ass…oh, that ass. Let freedom ring, baby.

The night progressed. More cocaine was snorted. The blond got dressed and left. The cute biracial girl passed out on the couch. And the bombshell and I attacked each other with a fervor generally reserved for Animal Planet.

“You should just manhandle me,” she slurred drunkenly as I eagerly pawed at her long, muscular body. Her left nipple is pierced with a small silver hoop that I tugged at with my teeth. When I pulled aside her panties, I found a small barbell through her clit hood.

We licked, sucked, tugged, wrestled, kissed—everything but fucked.

“I just got dumped and you’re on a break,” she panted at one point. “Maybe we should take it slow.”

And then she grabbed by crotch and bit my neck—hard.

We fell into my bed, practically fighting as we dug into each other.

She rammed two of my fingers deep into her sweet, slippery warmth. I bit her thigh and she sunk her teeth into my arm. Outside, the sun waited as long as possible before finally relenting and taking a peek over the horizon and at the debauchery going on in my room.

I grabbed her by the throat and held her down. She smiled. That’s when she said it.

“So you really are a nasty boy.”

I don’t remember when we curled up into a cuddle spoon and fell asleep.

When we woke up, she asked for water. She gave me a deep, delicious tongue kiss. Her friend that we left sleeping on the couch was gone.

We went out for food and came back to my place.

“OK, come here,” she purred. We curled up on the couch, put on a movie and fell asleep.

Epilogue: The following morning, I woke up totally sore all over my body. When I looked in the mirror, there were huge, splotchy bruises along my shoulders and biceps. Thankfully, she spared my neck. When I saw her, she had similar markings along her inner thigh and on her ass.

Pool parties, firecrackers and a (CENSORED) that chirps like a (DELETED)

I’m reconnecting with an old friend tonight. It’s kind of ironic, as it was ten years ago that this person introduced me to cocaine. It was a New Year’s Eve in Chicago. I was already drunk and high, so when she chopped out some lines and offered me the straw I said fuck it and dove right in.

It was just like all of the clichés about feeling good and talking a lot. We stayed up talking about life and the future and whatever else our cracked out brains could come up with until well after the sun came up. It was a whole lot of fun and I’ll always remember the night fondly.

We’re both in very different places now. But we again find ourselves in the same city. We’ve kind of hung out a few times, and it’s been weird. There was this one night when it was her birthday, so my gf and I went to her party.

OK, I’d seen her fucked up before. But she was more fucked up than I’d ever seen her that night. She was with her bf of the time, a real sleazy dude I didn’t like at all. He would later bear out my suspicions by dumping her one morning after going on an all-night coke binge with some other chick. He called her in the morning like “yeah, I’m out.”

I’m not sure why she’s so adamant about catching up. While I would LOVE to fuck this woman, I don’t necessarily see that happening. But you never know. Plus from what I know she’s still a serious druggie. I plan on getting my hands on a gram or two before she comes over. We can get a little twisted before heading out on our night-time adventure. And it will be an adventure, that’s for sure.