I like to crank some tunes when I fuck. It sets the mood, you know? And Frankie is a great song to fuck to.
Relax, don’t do it. When you want to cum. *1
“Oh FUCK me Daddy! Yes, yes, yes fuckkkkkk me Daddy…”
I pumped her harder and harder, both of us close. Having a woman call me ‘Daddy’ was such a turn-on for me.
“Cum in me Daddy! Fill me up oh gaawwwwdddd!”
Her pussy clenched tightly on me. Her back arched as she thrashed around in full orgasmic ecstasy. The candlelight danced on her magnificent body, sweaty, just like mine. Christ, she was beautiful, and she would do anything I wanted her to, and probably even things I wasn’t sure I wanted her to do.
I let loose, my dam bursting inside her, filling her tunnel with hot jets of semen… I felt fantastic… we were as one… our bodies floating together in that high you only get when two people connect at such a deep lev--
“Hey, um, you got any tissues? I hate when that shit leaks out of me.”
I pointed to the nightstand and rolled off her so she could run to the bathroom, her hand cupping her sex so it wouldn’t drip. Hmmm...
I sat up and leaned back against the headboard. I think she had five orgasms? Maybe six? I do like when a woman knows how to cum. I’ve had a couple that didn’t and boy, does that get awkward. Like, I guess we just fuck until I’m done? Well, not tonight, thank God.
The toilet flushed and she leaped back into the bed, snuggling naked against my chest. Her fingers twirled around in my chest hair. “Ready for round eight?”
I chuckled. “Eight? I thought it was six!” I reached down to cup her pussy. It was a tad dry as she had just wiped, but I knew she could make a comeback. “Let me see if there’s one more in there… you raunchy little bitch… yeah there we are… there’s the juice for Daddy… uh huh… rub those slutty tits into my chest and fuck my hand like the slut you are… that’s a good babygirl… mmhmm… you feel those fingers inside you... show me how slutty you are for daddy… you fucking whore… yessss, I feel you climbing… get there while I rub your filthy cunt.”
“Shitttt!” she screamed as she came on my hand, drenching it. I wiped it on her face, messing her up for the, what was it? Oh yeah, eighth time. She collapsed on me, maybe she passed out, I wasn’t sure.
~~~
Well, I been havin' a little trouble lord, But I'm keepin' it together yeah.
My baby just walked out the door, She said this time forever *2
Why that song came on, I don’t know. I turned up the volume on my random playlist and she roused from her sex stupor. “Oh, nineties tunes, I love them!”
Hm, yeah. Missed it by twenty years, but who’s counting. But you know that song, don’t you?
“Have you ever heard of Bad Company? The Eagles?” I ventured. “Hotel California?”
“Um, I think my dad liked them or… like, something. They were good, right?”
We talked a little more about music, what she liked, which was mostly crap. Why don’t people like songs that have lyrics in them anymore? But Christ, the randomizer was really fucking up me tonight as I heard this next:
All I've got is a photograph
And I realize you're not coming back anymore *3
Christ, the photos I have of you. I can’t delete them. I should.
We had a song. I sang it to you many times, even when you weren’t there. Someday when I’m lonely, wishing you weren’t so far away, then I will remember things we said today *4.
I remember the things we said that day. Don’t you? You were there, just like I am now with what’s-her-face, your face buried in my chest fur. My eyes became wet at the memory.
“... don’t you think?”
Rainie was talking. Or, was it, Blaney? I can’t remember all these new names. Half of them don’t even sound like girls' names anymore. Maybe if I dated people my age with normal names I could remember them. But a lot of girls out there want a Daddy, so—
“Like, are you even listening?”
“I’m sorry, babygirl. What was that? I was daydreaming about you.”
“Lolz, yeah right! Wait, are you… crying?”
I wiped my eyes. Did she actually say “lolz”? She talked in textspeak. She was/is without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, let alone slept with. She had fuller hips and bigger tits than you, and even her hair was softer than yours.
And she was really into me. I mean, we only knew each other for about five hours now, but this could go for a few months before the inevitable implosion. You and I went three and a half years. I was ready to go the distance with you. You said you were, too.
It doesn’t matter.
The next song came on, and I lost it. I covered my face in shame as Ainsley gathered her stuff and dressed hurriedly, calling me a few choice names.
Every time I think of you, I always catch my breath. *5
I’ve tried. I really have tried to forget you.
I get out. I see people. I go to work. I do things. I haven’t collapsed… well okay, it was a short collapse, but I do believe I’m feeling stronger every day.
It’s been seven months, I’m good now. Solid as a rock.
I ain’t missing you (No matter what, my friends say)
I ain’t missing you at all
Yeah, no.
~~~~~~~~~~
- Relax - Frankie Goes to Hollywood, 1984
- Gone, Gone, Gone - Bad Company, 1978
- Photograph - Ringo Starr, 1973
- Things We Said Today - Beatles, 1964.
- Missing You - Tom Waite, 1984
- This Song Is Over - The Who, 1971
- Feelin Stronger Every Day - Chicago, 1973
