What really happened

It has been a week. I think that’s long enough to fully comprehend just what the fuck happened last weekend.

My trip to visit the Marijuana MILF did not go according to plan. At all.

It started out fine. She picked me up from the airport. We drove about 45 minutes back to her area. We picked up her daughter from daycare on the way to her house.

We get back to the house. She plays with the kid for a while. We go inside so the kid can eat. That’s when we go into the basement and she introduces me to the bong, a huge glass number. Next to the bong was about an ounce of homegrown marijuana. We would go through it and a lot more before the weekend was over.

The vibe was slightly weird, but nothing unexpected. It was kind of an odd situation, and would take some getting used to. Whatever.

But it didn’t. She just got weirder. Thursday night we just smoked a ton of weed . When we were getting tired, she informed me that her daughter had passed on her bed, so I’d have to sleep on the couch. OK, cool. I would go on to sleep on that couch for the rest of my stay.

Friday was more of the same. Dropped the kid off at daycare. Came back to the house and smoked a bunch of pot and talked. The conversations got kind of heavy. Life is so different for both of us since our days of fucking and fighting almost five years ago now.

Friday night was more strangeness. I sat with her while she watched almost an entire season of America’s Next Top Model. We got really, really high.

Saturday was “date night.” Fuck me. What a disaster. First I go with her to drop her kid off with her parents. The parents? Not so much. I mean, they were fine. But there is a lot of drama between this girl and her mom. So yeah, things were kind of tense.

24 Hours

So. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be in an entirely different city. I’ll have gotten up (kinda) early, gone to the airport and taken a very quick flight to get there. She’s picking me up when I land, and then driving the hour or so back to her house.

It’s a very nice house. At least that’s how it looks in pictures. It’s deep in the middle of nowhere out in the woods. What makes this house especially nice is that she always keeps it stocked with copious amounts of only the finest marijuana imaginable. Like, that craaaaazy good shit that knocks you straight on your ass after one good bong rip. And I do mean copious; she keeps enough so that she can cook with it as much as she smokes it. She’s famous for her cupcakes. She promises me that she plans on making lots of cupcakes while I’m there.

I’ll be there from Thursday afternoon until Sunday morning. I don’t think we ever spent that much time together uninterrupted back when we were actively dating. Ha. But a lot has changed since those days, which are almost five years ago now. Huh. Times flies, kids. Trust me.

The biggest difference is that she’s now a bona fide MILF. As I’ve mentioned before, m’lady is now a mom.

I met her daughter once. Suuuper cute kid. Really mellow. But how could she not be, with such a legendary stoner for a mama?

All of which adds up to her, her daughter and me in a big house with a lot of weed and not a whole lot to do. There is wireless though. Color me excited.

In addition to being one of the few women I’ve ever known that smokes as much bud as I do, she’s also probably the dirtiest slut I’ve ever dated. And I say that with the utmost affection.

Her and I had nothing but raunchy sex. We’re equally perverted, so it was nothing but fun. She’s also still the only person I’ve ever fucked up the ass. It was surprisingly similar to vaginal sex. She REALLY liked it, so it was a regular part of our sexing activities. Yeah, it’s gonna be an interesting weekend, that’s for sure.

Saturday is going to be “date night.” She’s dropping her girl off with the grandmother and we’re gonna hit the big city and see what kind of adult trouble we can get into there. Knowing us, it will be the best kind.

There will be lots of sex, smoking weed and eating it, too. And I’m actually into the idea of playing house this weekend, kid and all. Maybe if I can experience what it’s like (even just for a couple of days), I’ll develop a taste for it all. Maybe.

7 days

There are only 7 days left. 7 days until I get on an airplane and fly to San Francisco. I will be met at the airport by her. It will take about an hour to get back to her house in the woods.


It will be Thursday afternoon by then. I will be there until Sunday morning, when she will drop me off back at the airport to fly home.

In between days. That's where it's at.