Skeletons in my closet

The silent running dialogue that I often have with myself.

Friday, February 03, 2006


If you want to know where I am coming from please check NPP for the background.

I kneel in front of her admiring my prize. Her soft tender breast, her smooth skin, her wet and shaved… I had just realized what prize had befallen me. This girl was freshly trimmed. Oh an attention to detail that deserves much gratitude and admiration. I love me some shaved ___________(insert your own descriptive noun here)

I tease her and enjoy her at the same time. I pause with each move to gauge reaction and prolong the agony of anticipation.

She enjoys my attention to details and swims off into her own mind and flesh.

Which is a problem often encountered with younger women. My official view on sex is “You got to work”. Whenever you commit to the act of sex do so with all intents and purpose. The worse thing you can possible do is to lay back play dead…or talk too much. Both of those actions will make me ask you to leave as soon as the deed is done. However, a little cooing in my ear action along with a show of aggression goes a long way.


Last night I realized something.

It was around 10:00pm, a pretty good episode of ER had just ended. I stretched and pulled my numb arm from underneath my wife’s head. I watched her as she slept with my son in her arms. I kissed her forehead and tried to quietly wake her without waking the baby.

I walked into the kitchen and checked all the doors in the back.

I turned off all the lights as I walked through house.

I stopped to kiss my wife’s forehead again, still trying to wake her without disturbing the baby. She stirred this time and like a pro lifted from the coach without waking the baby. She stumbled toward our bedroom in the now dimly lit house.

I turned off the TV, the DirecTV, the receiver, and the subwoofer. I am an audiophile…I love my gadgets.

I checked the front door and turned off all porch and front lights, which my wife insists on turning on every night.

I walked to my daughter’s room, just to look at her sleep. I tuck her in every night, been doing this for years. She sleeps like a champion, if getting your sleep was an Olympic Event my daughter would be on the cover of a Wheaties Box. I mean you ever look at somebody sleep and just want to sleep to curl up next to them and get some zzzzz’s.

As I am headed to my bedroom, my dog whimpers and I realize that I need to take him out to do his business.

This dog is so smart that when he does bad shyte I know that it is intentional. But last night I was in luck as he did his business and walked right back inside.

I pause to look around the house and I realize at that moment I am my Dad.


I grab her hair and tug slightly. I get the desired response plus extra. She comes out of her pleasure induced coma starts talking a bootleg gang load of shyte. Her mouth rambled of profanities including vile depictions of sexual acts. It escalated from full filthy sentences to harsh abrupt words. I continued my performance, unable to laugh out of fear, unable to stop out of fear, unable to finish out of fear.

I didn’t know if she was afflicted with Tourette syndrome or what. Then almost on que she chanted the word phuck repeatedly. I held my laughter and my fear in check. I seriously was unprepared for this sweet young lady to behave in such a manner.

Then as she yelled near the top of her lungs (into my ear I might add) it all ended just as quickly and strangely as it began.

The silence was deafening as I tried to gain my composure. I didn’t move as I tired to determine by best coarse of action. She interrupted the silence with a sudden “Whooh”!

I took that as my chance to jump in.

CO: What the hell was that!
Tourette Girl: What was what?
CO: That hollering, that filthy tirade that came from your mouth?
TG: Oh, nothing, I was just enjoying myself.
CO: Enjoying yourself, shyte sounded like you were fighting somebody.
TG: Nah, I just get kinda loud I guess when I come.
CO: Loud aint the word, down right vulgar is more like it!

Needless to say, that we went at it again. She rode we and the results were worse. I couldn’t do me cause of her distractive vocalizations. Even later when I “Mounted Her” she bit my hand…hard…like for real.

My continued interactions with TG got a couple of people interested in me. Most importantly my next-door neighbor. That story next Firday.


  • At 12:34 PM, Blogger Georgiapeach said…

    I need a story without the sidenotes...I be so turned on then...turned I was thinking about Freaky Friday's on my lunch break today. Glad you wrote a story for me.

  • At 1:03 PM, Blogger Lāā said…

    I'm glad you finished the story...not quite the outcome I had expected.

  • At 10:40 AM, Blogger P said…


    I love your sidenotes! It reminds me of a Walter Mosley novel. Real life, peppered with some hilarious outtakes.

    And as for the too much talking, that will mess up action Any Given Sunday!

    Good reading, as always, CO!

  • At 10:54 AM, Blogger Dee said…

    yeah yeah you are your dad, i'm my mom yadda yadda..

    ol gurl was nutz!! Did you get it again???? She bit you??? Hell naw!!!! I can't stand!!! oooh that's good....yeah right there, I like that is enough!!!! What's with all the screaming?????? Even the BEST naked fun i've had in my life didn't warrant screaming!!!!! I have pulled score cards out and walked around the room like the chicks do at boxing matches.........I will get up ad make a brother a snack/meal but screaming.........naaaawww

  • At 11:41 AM, Blogger onecoolhoney said…

    I love the sidenotes. They don't interrupt a thing ova heah!

    Somebody must have told ol' girl that mess was cool. lol She sounds like she just didn't know any better. Po' lil naive thing. lol

  • At 12:07 PM, Blogger Msnhim said…

    That was funny.... Its ok to be vocal but not to that extreme.

  • At 12:39 PM, Blogger Icey said…

    that was hot! you didn't laugh because you know she would have shanked you!! lol

    Nothing like making love to the man/woman you love love love


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