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The Quicky

September 15, 2016

I had a meeting with a former c0-worker last night at Pamplona. I wanted to pick her brain about her organization’s use of a contract design person. I’m going to propose to my bosses that I switch to contract labor. I don’t think they’re going to like it. But it’s time for me to move on from 8-5 and so much administrative bullshit. I need to jump off a cliff and try to go out on my own.

Anyway, the usual Wednesday gang was there. Larry said he was cooking the next night and asked if we had any requests.

“Oh,” I said. “Make that Indian curry stuff you did before. It was so good.”

His Indian dish was better than any I’ve had, even from Indian people who cooked in my kitchen.

“I’ll invite Z,” I joked.

“You should,” Amy said.

When I got home, a bit tipsy, I checked to see if Z was up. He was. I called him and made the invitation, knowing he would probably decline.

“Sure,” he said. “I have soccer until 8 but I can come after that.”

“Really?” I said.

“Yeah, free food. I’m in.”

“Ok,” I said surprised. “I’ll send you the address.”

“Will Liz be there?” he asked, which I thought was interesting. Liz always brings a tinge of judginess to the air when Z is there. Her and Amy’s take on him couldn’t be more different.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably not.”

We hung up the phone. He texted, “Will there be any hot cougars there?”

“Only one,” I responded. “She’s a sure thing.”

“What does she have to offer?”

“Not much. Small boobs. Pretty eyes. Nice legs.”

“Sounds perfect,” he wrote.

The playful bander continued, getting more heated and explicit. Z and I had never talked to each like that before. It was hot. And he was only a few blocks away.

After about 20 minutes of sext-play, he told me to put on some lacy underwear and go open the door.

I knew it, I thought to myself. I knew he would come. 

I opened the door in bra and panties. He grabbed me around the waist and put his face in my neck. “I knew you would come,” I whispered in his ear.

I turned around and leaned against and the door and we were right back where we had been so many times before, over the past….what has it been?……3 or 4 years. It’s always like this with us.

We had a passionate, heated quicky. He was so familiar. Not in a boring, stale way. In an exciting, vibrant way. I’ve yet to experience anyone who has come close to the way Z and I are together. I love the things he does to me. The way he kisses me passionately the whole time. The way he smells.

It was the first time he had been in my bed in #3. We both had early mornings, so I kicked him out. When I walked back to my bedroom, I looked down at discarded panties on the floor in the doorway of my bedroom. How I missed that sight.

God help me. I just can’t let go of that man.

He’s going to crush me again.

And I don’t care. I’ll take every second I can get with him.

He’s my Z. And I’m his and probably always will be.

 

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From → Rantings

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