It was a Friday night, one of the first without my daughter. She was with her father. I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself; only knew I needed to be alone.

I walked into my bedroom to lay down and masturbate, to be honest, but before I began I gazed outside my double french doors into the night sky. I took a moment. The sweetest sense of peace enveloped me as shadows danced on the wall in the flickering candlelight. I felt compelled to speak to what? God? For lack of a better word. Saying Universe seems too cold and distant. God, too male. But for these purposes, God will do. I spoke from the heart. I told God all the things I loved about my life and thanked it from the bottom of my heart. I asked for direction in all areas of my life. That included Highland Park and his family. And to my daughter, my ex, and myself. Then I fell into the plush bosom of an omnipotent black woman with a deep belly laugh. My version of God, at times. She held me, cradled, soft, and protected. I put my hand over my heart and heard in her voice, how much she loved me. She told me never to doubt that I was loved beyond my ability to comprehend.

The strangest most surreal thing began to take place. As tears streamed down my face, I saw me, at six months old, abandoned and left alone in a crib, wailing, but nobody was home. Something that did, in fact, happen. Except this time, instead of enduring neglect, I imagined myself picking up this baby version of me and holding her close, soothing her, telling her how much I loved her. Then I saw myself at 12, cowering in the corner. A time when I was also abandoned and left alone made to feel disregarded and that I didn’t matter. I beckoned her over, cupping her face in my hands, reassuring her that she did matter; she was important, and I would never leave her.  She morphed into 13-year-old me. The day after I had sex for the first time, with a 19-year old. I thought I said no. But apparently he did not hear me. I hugged myself and told her that she was not bad. She was not dirty. She was not broken. The final image that came to me was seeing myself at 22 years old, the night before I married a half Polish, half Albanian musician from Sweden so he could stay in the country. I was scared shitless. I wanted to say no. But I couldn’t.  She was crying for me in the shower, crumpled on the floor. I picked her up and told her, YOU CAN SAY NO. You don’t have to go through with this. You can change your mind!! It’s okay.

Finally I put them all together in my body and heart and held them, rocking them, like a good mother would. Repeating I love you. I love you. I love you. Over and over again.

I kept my hands, over my heart as the words died out and I was left with deep wonderful releasing breaths, a gurgling belly, and a smile on my face.

From that peaceful, tranquil place, the most intense fantasy about Highland Park came barrelling in like a Mack truck. I felt in a daze as I wrote it down. Sitting on my couch, I swore Highland Park was sitting next to me, dictating.

Here it is:

York Bar.

A busy night.

It’s crowded.

I walk in to meet some hot guy on Tinder that I have never met before but found his messages to be quite funny, smart, and charming. I’m early, as usual. I shimmy up to the same spot where I met you, that night, and I order myself a non-alcoholic beer while I wait. As I look up from paying the bartender, I see you, standing at the other end of the bar, staring at me, surrounded by, what I must assume, are your friends. Looking at you sends electricity through my body and straight into my cunt. I am immediately turned on. But we don’t move. We don’t say anything. Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I break eye contact to see Tinder Guy on my left. I give him a huge smile and a big hug. I am a little awkward and nervous, self-conscious because I know you are watching me. I flirt, trying to make you jealous. I steal glances, but you have stopped looking. You are ignoring me now, and it kills me, so I start flirting more heavily. Eventually, Tinder Guy goes to the bathroom. As soon as he leaves I look for you, but you are gone. My heart breaks. As I stare into the fading foam of my warm non-alcoholic beer, I feel a warm body slide next to me on my left. Without looking up, I hear your voice order beer from the bartender. I keep looking down. You turn to look at me. I can feel your gaze. My face gets hot, my body squirms. I’m afraid if I look at you I won’t be able to keep myself from touching you.

I am standing at the bar. We both are. You are pressed up against my left. You lean down and whisper in my ear, “Are you going to fuck this guy?”

I slowly turn towards you, pushing my body fully up against you and stare into your eyes saying, “Only if you want me to.”

The spell is broken by your beer being set roughly on the bar.

Before breaking my gaze, you quietly tell me, “Take off your underwear.”

Without question, I turn to go to the ladies room so that I can fulfill your request. You grab my arm, stopping me, pulling me back into you and tell me, “No. Take them off here. Now.”

I am wearing a very short black dress with knee-high boots. I look around nervously and turn my face towards the bar. With my right

hand I surreptitiously pull my underwear down, around my boots, and off my ankles and stealthily shove them into my bag.

I can feel the air touching my lips. I am dying for you to touch me.

You ignore me for a moment while we stand shoulder to shoulder.

As you take a sip of your beer, without even looking at me you slip your right hand under my dress and into my aching pussy. I am so wet I am practically dripping. That is all you wanted to know. As you slide your fingers out of me, you put them in your mouth before taking a sip of beer and walking away. I am left standing there, shaking when Tinder Guy walks back up. I do my best to keep a conversation going, but it’s fucking hard. Every time I glance in your direction, you are engaged in some other conversation, and I start to feel ignored again. I am nodding my head wondering what Tinder Guy is even talking about when I hear a text on my phone. I pick it up. It’s you. Telling me to meet you in 10 minutes in the back by the bathroom. The next 10 minutes feel like torture. When it is time, I watch you leave first, then I follow, telling Tinder Guy I need to use the Ladies Room. I walk shakily towards the dark back hallway leading to the restrooms.

I see you leaning against the wall. I finally get close enough to touch you but when I reach out my hand, you grab it and quickly pull me into a small dark linen closet, locking the door behind us.

It’s so dark I can barely see you.

You pull me into your arms and kiss me fully on the mouth before turning me around and bending me over a pile of freshly cleaned bar towels on a table. I can smell the Tide detergent as I bow my head while you lift up my dress and spread my legs apart. And just like that day you came over to my house and fucked me against the sink, your cock is warm and hard. You slap it against my ass a few times before plunging into me hard and fast. Your left hand is holding my hip while your right-hand reaches around and grabs me gently by the throat, arching me towards you.

You begin giving me explicit directions with each hard thrust.

Take Tinder Guy out to your car.

Pull down his pants.

Put a condom on him.

Straddle him.

Bury his cock deep inside of you.

Make him come.


Afterward, go home immediately.

Get naked.

And get your ass ready for me.

It is mine tonight.

With the last words, you fuck me as hard as you can, coming brilliantly.

Flopping over the towels as you release my neck, I lay there stunned and shaken. You pull down my dress, straighten me up, turn me around to face you, kiss me deeply and say,”I love you. Now do what I told you to.”

I walk back to Tinder Guy and whisper in his ear that he really should pay the check, I want to make out.

I give you one last look as I lead him out the door by the hand and to my car waiting in the parking lot.

He doesn’t object.

I sit him in the passenger seat, and I slide next to him in the driver. I start kissing him, deeply. I find his cock quickly. He is hard in no time. I put the condom on him and then I straddle him. My pussy is still swollen and slightly sore from you as I slowly lower myself onto his hard dick.

I waste no time making him come fast.

Because even though this feels good, I know what is waiting for me at home, and I can not fucking wait. I love that I have another man’s cock inside of me. That I am being filled up again, so soon. And that it feels totally different. Not nearly as good, because he is not you, and he doesn’t have your eyes, your body, your face, but it still feels good. He comes quickly, and I almost push him out the door yelling Thank You! as I drive off.

I get home and begin to get my ass ready for you.

By the time you walk through my front door, I am laying naked on my bed, waiting. While undressing, you tell me to lie on my side. I turn over offering my backside, as I feel your naked body slide next to mine.

Our bodies are held tightly together by the arms you wrap around me, pulling me into you.

The warmth of your nakedness and your breath on the back of my neck send chills of pleasure down my spine.

I feel your hardness against my ass. Parting my legs a little, I give you access to my wetness.

Slowly, you slide yourself between my swollen lips back and forth a few torturously slow times, before drenching yourself inside of my now quite sore cunt.

Pulling out of my pussy, your shaft is completely drenched as you press the head of your throbbing cock against my well-lubricated ass.

I am so ready for you.

I arch my back against you, encouraging you to push through the first layer of muscle.

I feel you finally pop through that barrier and rest with the head of your cock inside of me.

Pausing, we hold for a second while my body adjusts to the feel of you. We are breathing deeply, together. I let you know I am ready for more. You slowly slide another inch in. You feel me tense up. We wait. Breathing. Together. So close. So fucking close, I feel to you. Then you finally push yourself completely inside of me and I can feel the entire length of you in my ass. I feel so full. So dominated. So trusting. So taken care of. I begin to move my hips, encouraging you to do the same. I want you to fuck me. I am ready. I am completely relaxed. I have complete trust in you. My body is taken to another place. I start to touch my pussy. You do too. It’s so exciting and interesting to be able to explore inside of me while you are fucking my ass. I love the way you feel. I am so turned on by you. You move your hands and grab my hips for better leverage. I am so relaxed now that you can really start fucking me hard. I am playing with my pussy while you start asking me how it felt to have another man’s cock in my pussy moments before. I can barely answer you. I am on the verge of coming. You tell me how hot it is that this is the third time I have been fucked that night and that two different cocks have filled all my holes. You ask me if I wish I had another cock to fuck my pussy right then, and I say, “Yes, I do.” As I say those words, our bodies, moving in synergy, build to this incredible climax as we both come at the same time with you exploding deep in my ass.

Afterward, we lay there quietly for some time, simply breathing in unison.

You don’t leave. 


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