Skeletons in my closet

The silent running dialogue that I often have with myself.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

My Life Part II

Sorry for the delay....but I was off Monday...

My need was shelter and food. So I hopped in my father supplied automobile and headed to the source of my arrogance. Of course I was accepted with open arms, as I am sure many prey are welcome before the pounce of the hunter.

My new family consisted of my older woman phenomenon, her sister (who had just split from a matrimonial regime), her sister’s two kids…and me. Not exactly what I expected, but I was dealing with a no turning back now situation.

Breakfast was lovely, everyday in the beginning. Dinner was just as cool. No quips whips or problems. I even hung with my boys most of the time. It was unbearable doing the family thing with this group of characters. Just imagine the generational overlapping going on in this house. I was 18 so I have all kind of issues going on with myself, from being a man to my daddy didn’t hug me enough. The older sister was 30 something and her husband just left her apparently after years of physical and mental abuse. The son was14 going on 9 with a stuttering problem. A complete introvert and rarely accounted for in the house, he followed orders well, so that is what they gave him. And last but not least, the coup de grace of the apartment, a 120 pound eleven year old girl, with issues out the ying yang.

The older sister didn’t have the looks are the body of my fem fatale. Plus she had two responsibilities. Her past abusive relationship left his scares, and she was searching for attention, a man, and sex. For the record, I didn’t go there. And for the record, I was amazed at the number of catz that crawled in at the wee hours of the morning. I would sit from my window perch smoking a Newport in solitude, watching as someone I probably knew, darted from his car to the lower stair case, check the address verifying the location of his target, and then stop as the motion censored lighting popped on in the doubled halogen stare of disbelief. The Lights were on some steroid, krypton technology so the shyte was too bright…damn near disturbing. Kinda like the truth would hit a nigga right before he hit the door. I had been in that spot before and that light did put shyte in perspective, a last chance to do the right thing.

The most troubling thing about the whole new family was the little girl. Okay, she wasn’t so little, but it was obvious that her eating and her weight were request for attention. However, her eating and her weight were the obvious reasons for her mother’s rejection. I wasn’t as sensitive to this back then. It took my own dealings with an ineffectual mother to realize that abuse can be as simple as neglect, and neglect can be as simple as failing to hug and love…unconditionally.

I spent most of my time in the field. Running and gunning. My hustle was on full blast as well as my social. I was hell to tell the captain that is for shore, but every night, or every other, I would sink back into the comforts of this woman, who new how to pull me into the thicker parts of the web.

I swear if she had money I would have been a goner and not here with you guys today. The only problem she had was what she had for living arrangements. Now I wasn’t paying a dime. I was just there for the puzzy. Whenever I came over we stayed locked up in her room, phucking and eating ice cream. Life wasn’t too bad.

Sexually, she schooled me. Before I was shooting piss water, after I was performing. She had a snapper. Yeah an old Richard Pryor term. She could make it talk, jump, and bite you back. Phucking her was like learning to read. At first it was constant correction and cries for help, but as I got better, I advanced well ahead of my grade level.

One of my fondest memories revolves around Hurricane Andrew.

That was the last Hurricane that hit my city before Katrina. And as I recall it was a killer. It shut the city down for a week, but it was not anything on the scale of Katrina. During the night that the Hurricane hit we laid in bed with a bottle of Crown. We phucked from the bed to the bathroom, and back again. I did some things she did some things, we did some things. All we had was candlelight, Crown, and a young mans sex drive, oh yeah two gallons of ice cream. A palatable combination.

SideNote:
I was working at Baskin Robbins at the time. I have always had a serious jones for the cream. Every house I have ever resided has been full stocked with ice cream essentials
.

She woke me during the initial deluge of Hurricane Andrew, to teach me about anal sex. Yeah I know…gross…perverted…some may even say it lends me to homo-erotic tendencies. Well sorry to disappoint. Nothing but cutting going on in this camp. And I ask you this, IF some gorgeous young female is lubing the head of your penis with copious amounts of Astro-Glide, then softly, eagerly, erotically inserting said penis into her ass…You going to complain. Thought Not!

SideNote:
How-some-ever, I will tell you this after the romance, excitement, tension, is gone (aka after you cum) doo-doo dick is not a pretty site. I am not trying to say don’t do it, because the shyte his highly erotic and I have been told that women experience the most intense orgasms via this method of intercourse. I back door action BDA and having sex during the rainy season are kinda on the same level for most guys. Its kinda tough to wrap your mind around it in the beginning. After you get started you really enjoy the ride. But the after the party, clean up is a bitch.

She had toys, lube, and a self-deprecating ability that knew no bounds. She would get the job done no matter what it took, how long it took, or how bad her jaws hurt. I would not be surprised if she suffered TMJ because of me.

Well, I had never had that much constant, private, worry free sex in my life. We finished the crown, ice cream and each other every night, and started again each morning. Then my life opened changed and fell apart at the same time.

9 Comments:

  • At 10:30 AM, Blogger Dee said…

    WOW!!!! I thought I had it rough!!!! I left at 17......not by choice, well I guess by choice.......I have no regrets!!!! All that ish made/makes me the woman I am today!!!!!

    How about you??? Regrets????

     
  • At 10:38 AM, Blogger Honest said…

    Dang! Anxiously awaiting part 3

     
  • At 10:57 AM, Blogger NegroPino™ said…

    Everthing aint always what it seems. Im glad u can use your blog to vent. That's why I started mines. I left home @ 16. SO i know the struggle. staying where you dont' wanna stay just ot have a roof over your head. Doing things you have no bidness doing just to get by. Its called Survival and other people can't relate unless they been through it themselves. It definetly made me the person I am today but I have yet to find out if thats a good or bad thing.

    Thanks!!!

     
  • At 12:18 PM, Blogger Msnhim said…

    Im waiting on the next part!

     
  • At 3:43 PM, Blogger African girl, American world said…

    doo doo dick ewww!!! what a visual!

    you tell a good story cause now I want to know about all the issues of these people in the house.

    I hope you called your Mama and didn't leave and not call out of spite!!

    Answer my questions dammit! I axed you one last post :)

     
  • At 5:12 PM, Blogger Closet Owner said…

    Lets just say big.

    Nah, I called, she helped...but my dad runs the roost.

     
  • At 7:09 AM, Blogger Melinda said…

    Well...Damn! Yoiu got me waiting for part 3!

     
  • At 5:53 PM, Blogger Serenity23 said…

    Before you said you worked at Baskin Robins, I was like this nigga love some icecream...

     
  • At 10:55 AM, Blogger onecoolhoney said…

    "At first it was constant ... cries for help"

    lmao!!

    Baskin Robbins, huh? Ever had Braum's??

    What's TMJ?

     

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home