Thursday, August 19, 2010

Miztrezboo's Week 15 Entry: Late


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Miztrezboo's Choice: Picture 1


I'm so tired.

I've never been so tired in my entire life and I just can't sleep.

I’ve tried lying still and relaxing my muscles from my toes to my forehead.


I’ve tried a mug of warm milk with a dash of nutmeg.


I even tried squeezing my eyes really tight and watching golds and red bloom in starbursts through the black.


I’m probably still high. Or drunk. High and drunk? Hunk? Drigh?

I am high.

It’s all fucking Jasper’s fault. He brought around this new ‘enhanced organic’ green earlier tonight or yesterday – I have no idea – that we got well and truly baked on. Then Edward dropped by with some cookies and I thought they were just his mom’s that she sends now and then in her care packages but no, they were filled with ‘extra sugar’.

Sure, the asshole tells me this after I inhale ten of the tasty treats.

No wonder I’m still high.

I try rolling into a ball again, smooshing my pillow up against my face and that seems to help. My pillow smells so good, like Alice.

And now I’m high and hard.

Fuck my life.

If only Alice was here I could fuck her. That tight body of hers, those boobs that are far too big for her tiny frame and that ass that pops out like Jlo’s even though it shouldn’t. She’s barely five foot three but her curves are just… out of this world.

Now I’m really hard and this woody is making it impossible to lie on my side like I am anymore.

Fucking Alice, why did she have to go visit her dying grandmother this weekend.

Right, I know… assholish thing to think but, if you had a taste of Alice, your hand wouldn’t be a decent substitute either. Hmm, my hand.

I roll onto my back and keep my head turned into Alice’s pillow, for further affect. The light is pouring in through the windows now, turning the darkness behind my eyes into something like when your candling an egg. , but my room is on the second floor and faces the street, there’s no chance anyone can see me.

More like I really don’t give a shit if anyone does. Exhibitionist should be my middle name not Patrick.

I slide my hand under my shorts, hissing as I realize just how much colder it is outside in the air conditioning than under my clothes. My dick however, doesn’t care, its enjoying the attention as I stroke myself slowly up and down.

It’s feeling good and I’m getting into it, but a dry rub is not a good rub. I stop and shuffle my way over to the side of the bed and rifle around in the top drawer for lube that should be in there. It’s not, and I have to open my eyes now because the missing lube is pissing me and my needy dick off.

I shuffle the two half empty boxes of condoms (flavored and glow in the dark because Alice is a little kinky like that), a sock, a pack of naked lady playing cards, a few chips from when we road tripped to Vegas for Spring Break and finally at the back…

… an empty bottle of Durex Heat. Fanfuckingtastic.

I could just lick my hand and make do, but I’ve kind of grown to love the slick warming stuff. Alice has this thing where she likes to watch me jack off; she sits and watches from a chair across the room. She’ll tuck her legs underneath her, usually in those long rainbow socks of hers that should end at her knee. They curve around her shapely thighs more often than not because she’s more upper body than lower, she tells me often how she hates her short stumpy legs.

I don’t mind and I tell her so because they are long enough to wrap around my waist and hold her up when we’re fucking against a wall, or I’m holding her ass and shifting her up and down as we screw with me standing.

That’s the great thing about Alice, she’s tiny. I can bend and flip her any which way and she loves it. I’ve never had a girl so adventurous in the bedroom department which is great because I get bored easily. Most of the women I’ve dated have been these blonde Barbie types, all looks and no heart. Alice though, Alice is different and not just because she’s got dark hair and is feisty.

She challenges me and makes me want to do things like… change my major from Sports Medicine which my Dad wanted as a fallback for my football career, to Music Therapy because I enjoy teaching and helping people more than I care to learn about all the bones in the body. She makes me want to go with her to these strange cooking classes like the one we just completed on Knowing your Tofu. I didn’t even like tofu to begin with, but she smiled and bounced on the balls of her feet and did that thing where her blue eyes look like saucers and I couldn’t say no. Turns out, I really do like tofu, especially when Alice and I cook it in a meal together.

She makes me want to be a better person, explore the world outside of what I already know.

Which is why I’m kind of at a loss without her this weekend.

We’ve been together for the last six months, three before that as this off and on casual thing and its only because I got sick of chasing Alice for a minute of her time that we made this thing between us official. She stays at mine or I stay at hers and after this weekend, I know I’m going to talk to her about maybe moving out together sometime soon. And when I say soon, I mean asap.

I throw myself back on the bed, ignoring my dick for now because the hard on I had earlier has dissipated with all these girly sad ass thoughts of missing her that I’m having.

And I do miss her.

I should have ignored her protests and gone with her this weekend. I should have manned up and not even asked, I should have just gone. She might have wanted to fool around after going to the hospital.

It was acceptable to do that then wasn’t it?

Okay, maybe not but, damn I missed my girl.

The only reason, apart from her telling me not to come, was that I’d been to far too many of these things myself in the past three years. All before Alice, but she knew of them just the same. The ink that covered my skin were testament to the loved ones I’d lost and weren’t exactly small enough to not be asked about.

The large Celtic cross that covers most of the middle of my back, nearly shoulder to shoulder, that’s for my Dad. Then the two cherubic angels on either side are for my baby sisters that the stupid drunk driver also took from my life in that same instant. The skull bellow with the rose clenched between its teeth is for my best friend whose motorbike got sideswiped by a car sending him over the guard rails of the main highway through our home town.

All these things would probably make a guy hesitate to get back on the road. It did for a while. I couldn’t even look at my bike after Riley died but you can’t let things out of your control affect you for too long. Now when I ride, I think of Riley and the hurt of him leaving this world when he was only twenty two gets a little smaller. When I see a Dad driving his daughters to or from dance class I think of how much my sisters enjoyed doing that, and how special every recital was of theirs to my father.

Even all this sad, these big things I’ve had to deal with in my life, Alice reminded me that I still wasn’t really living. The whole thing with me changing majors. I never would have done if she hadn’t of reminded me that I had to live my life not the one my Dad picked out for me. “Would your Dad have wanted you to continue doing something if your heart wasn’t in it?” she said and… yeah we argued and I didn’t talk to her for a week, but I thought about what she said and apologized when I realized she was right.

We had great make up sex that night. She’d made me state my intentions when I arrived at her little bungalow and get down on my knees in the early morning dew covered grass to prove I was ready to listen. When I did, and I’d apologized (because I’d said a lot of shit about her not having a clue what I’d been through and calling her flighty and a few more choice words) and she’d forgiven me, we’d made love right there on her front lawn.

Thank god for the high hedges that block the view from the street.

And now I’m hard again.

I slam my fist into the pillow beside me that isn’t hers and I’m pissed off that it’s going to be at least another thirty hours before I see her again. No lube and no lover for any sort of relief and on top of that, I just fucking miss her.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m rolling off my bed and grabbing my keys and throwing clothes including my one nice shirt without any stains and slacks that fit into a bag before heading out the door.

She might not have said she wanted me, but I knew that she would need me there.

Better late than never right?