Saturday 8 October 2011

Are You Going To Get Stood Up Again?


Please do tell me what is more annoying than being given a date on 31st September? Anyone? No one? No one. Then let me tell you folks. Sitting in a crowded pizza joint alone for four straight hours waiting for your date is worse. You play with your phone, text, put up status update, you even start physically playing with your phone spinning it between your fingers, you walk lazily to the loo, order the sixth drink, alone.
after the one, two, three four...the fifth hour of sitting there looking like a leaper since everyone is in pairs or groups, your date calls, and you cant wait to show all those people around you you are worth it, your date calls and tells you she would be doing a no-show. Thats right, stand your ass up, go home!

That's what she did to me, who knows probably the humping she was getting with another man was too good for her to leave. Or she was too sweaty and drippy she dint want to shower. I didn't know what she was doing all that time I waited for her, you to wouldn't know, but one thing is for sure, traffic jam never lasts forever, if you were in traffic and you were headed to town, you will get to town, no one turns back and goes back home. Unless you are a warthog, how dare that animal stop and start eating grass while being chased by a lion? If I was a lion I wouldn't eat such an idiot animal, if you were a lion, you probably shouldn't too, who knows probably the meat has the idiot genes, and it might affect my stomach, and my enzymes might become such idiots they might forget to digest food in my stomach like a warthog forgets it's being chased. Let's not eat warthogs, okay?Agreed. Such stupidity is to profound, and conspicuous.

History repeats itself, women are the same right, people are the same. Here I was, waiting, this time at least I was in the car. It was just about to turn completely night, the time car jackers and thieves wake up to go bake cookies in white aprons. Yeah right, that's what they do, go baking cookies... They don't carry guns and wear black. They carry puns and cooking aprons!
It was at night, with this economy, car jackers must roam the streets, and there I was, in the car, waiting for pussy, waiting hours for a babe, all in the name of love. History does repeat itself. We never learn.

I think I even grew a beard seated there waiting for her. Five hours! I had promised her I would wait, and I intended to keep my word. But even more than keeping my word, she was beautiful, I mean the beauty that comes as a whole. She got enough on the rear for me to grab when I cum, she got such a nice bod, the kind that makes you not mind foreplay but actually look forward to it. Her voice would cause beautiful singing birds low self esteem, who knows they might join tweeter and follow self-help , try to get what is left of their esteem back. Yes, the sound of her talking is that good. She is the kind of girl you would wait for for seven years like that guy in the bible who waited for a girl for like fourteen years.

I could have left, but I didn't. She could have stayed home, not sneaked out but she didn't. Her father was home, if she got caught she would lose her car, her phone and her freedom. She was willing to take the risk. I wasn't willing for her to take that risk. If car jackers were to attack me, I was ready to negotiate with them, tell them I was to have sex that night, that I had to see her. We had to be together. But I hate car jackers, i wouldnt negotiate with them, if the police gave me a gun, I would run after them spending my own money. Oh I would throw money just to get rid of those scum bags. That is one thing i wouldn't mind getting poor doing. I waited for her, for almost five hours, that's almost a quarter a day you know, luckily she showed up while I was still safe. No bullets, no car jackers, just me safe.

Sometimes it is good to show emotion, I wasn't going to pretend I liked being left waiting for five hours, patience runs out like cum does, and when cum does reality checks in, and you feel sick of how desperate you were, who the bloody hell did you just bang?

 We were both excited about where we were heading to, even you would be, but I didn't want to show it. If I did wouldn't she treat me like a door mat, making me wait next time, I was going to let her feel what I felt by letting myself show what I felt. I dint hold back a frown. But her hand went around my arm, and stayed there, as I switched gears, what can I say, I really tried to hold back a smile, but I still cared and loved her so much. I guess that's why I still made sure she was wearing her seat belt. I cared for her.

We were two lovers, on the empty road, at almost midnight, driving to a place with a chimney, with a chimney that actually works, and is used. I was driving my baby, to a place, with a bed, curtains that run from ceiling to floor, floor that is made of proper wood and is dotted with mats, that runs up to the bath tub and is stared back by a mirror, a large mirror, so large you would see both yourselves making love in the shower. We were driving to a romantic place.

It was a private club, somewhere past Bruckenhurst but before Sigona Golf Club, or is it after, I don't know. I didn't care, all I cared about were her lips. I could try to stay angry at her, or even be angry at her, but what's the use of starting a battle you know you can't win? Cupid is a kid, but is very accurate with his love arrow, run and he will shoot your leg till you fall, or miss and shoot your ass, no one likes injections on the ass, I didn't want to be shot in the leg, I gave Cupid my chest, he shot it, I let love win. I couldn't remain angry at her.

It was a members only homely spot, it's structure was old but very well maintained, it felt like a castle, only the best for princesses, right? A homely spot lets it's employers sleep, like a fat cat in a rich accountants home, the lounge was not serving, the receptionist were not at work, but they had left their contact numbers with the two guards, the guards that fired up our chimney, and our evening, we even took a photo of them. Very jolly fellas.

It was cold, before the fire achieved it's maximum potential. It was cold when I spread her on the bed, then seized her lips with kisses that matched with the candle lit room. She melted. Like candle wax does. How couldn't she? She saw my eyes, in the dim lit wall-lighting that gave the place that elegance. My eyes said I love you, her lips saw those words, her ears ate them and her breath screamed them. It was as if we were competing with the fire, chimney fires take their time to light up, I took my time to light her up, and yes she lit up, fires throw out sparks, I could feel her sparks, I am still not sure if it was what happened between the sheets that heated up the room or it was the fire.

Did I tell you that place was as old as a castle, I bet that's why their mode of heating up water for the shower was slow, it required patience, like romance, it's all about the slowness of the kiss, the tenderness of the touch, just like the heating up of the water for the shower.
But sometimes, at times, things can get violent at romantic spots like that. Like the raging fires. the blossoming of flowers. the eruption of hot water from the shower head, and warmness from head, tip, the budging of my thing, her things and the exposion of them all, as the fire sparked to passion and romantic music. Magical...

We slept, we kissed, we loved, we switched on and off the lights, the bed lights, the bedside lamps, I switched off my eyes, before she did, she disturbed me a couple of times, jealous i was peacefully asleep, women, so typical. We slept in each others arms for the few moments we were together at that place with two seats, one red rose, in one vase, next to a fire place, no tv, just fire, and love, and everything else romantic, like love.

Morning came, their were packets of rubber all over, we really didn't sleep. If she fell down she would have gotten pregnant. Breakfast was delicious. Though we felt dangerously young, with all the old white couples around us. They truly know how to live, I would give them that.
I ate her toast and her swiss rolls, man was I hungry. She laughed. We sent messages as we unfolded napkins on the table. That place was so proper, if you talked, everyone heard. The sunlight hit the windows like the coffee hit my taste buds. I saw the glow on her face, she radiated like the sun, in fact I think the sun blushed, it was bliss. Why wouldn't she radiate like she was? I dont know how it happened, but she orgasmed that night so many times, she even wasn't coy about it. I guess it's cause I turned into an animal that night, oh she was so blissful and nice, beautifully aloof, I wanted her right there in front of all those proper people.

After breakfast, she told me she felt naked, she wore no undies, that over breakfast she had wondered the whole time whether people knew about her nakedness. It was ridiculous, she was completely dressed. I laughed a good one. She let my hand around my arm as we headed to the reception desk.

There was a bell, one like the ones in castles, on the desk, you press it, and the receptionist appears, like butlers do. She appeared, the receptionist, she looked at the way babes had held me, like I was such a man,  and she smiled. At that moment, i felt as if my dic was the world and other men's were a small  province. I did the manly thing manly dudes do, got out my wallet and signed some papers.

The old white guy standing next to us was very polite, he was reading a John Grisham novel, which had me wondering whether I should write a novel. Probably it was that that made me sign 'almost-a-lawyer' on the Occupation box on the papers.
It was babes who made small talk with him, I just laughed casually when I needed too. And I imagined, if she held my hand like that, when we went for parties, church or rhino-charge wouldnt she be speaking for both of us? And if I spoke with my hand rolled around by hers, wouldn't I be speaking for both of us? That old guy assumed she was speaking for both of us. I think he is part of the Dalamere family, though he tried to down play it a lot. Very polite dude.

"my wife loves pressing that bell" he said cheerfully.
She looked at me,
"babes, you like playing with that bell too."
She said to me. I just laughed.

Papers were signed. It was time to check out, mostly cause there were other people checking in. There was a golf tournament at the adjacent club, and other helpless romantics had booked the place for the next night.
Even though the cleaners were waiting outside, we still had to have another round. We defiled the bed a little more, and caused another rubber to find it's way onto the floor.

I used her shower gel, it's extracts are from tea, which I learnt doesn't go well with my hair, she called the Desk, had an iron box brought, and creased out my shirt as I took a shower.
 I carried her bag. We found the car covered with leafs from the tree above. I guess we were not the only ones who poured that night. Even the trees shed their leaves, like she got wet until it poured. It looked so beautiful, the car. We drove off, as the flowers, petals and leafs flew off the windscreen, the air is fresher there, the hills and the valleys are all covered in green plants. Smiles flew out of our faces.

I remembered the girl that made me wait, the girls that made me wait. Then did a no-show after five hours. I found a full-proof mechanism for them, incase they pull a no-show, from up their asses. As crude as it sounds it worked.
It was a send-to-many, the texts I sent dates. With three you can never go wrong, one for lunch, the other for coffee, and the last for dinner, if the first doesn't show, just tell the second to be a little early, if the second doesnt show, tell the third to change it to a lunch date rather than coffee. Once one saturday i banged three, and i was very sincere about it. Its either cause i have a way with words or am just lucky, i think am just lucky, or no one is that lucky? Can you keep a secret? Then, so can I.
This isn't boarding school, where if one isn't in the dorm, check the dinning hall, if not in the dinning hall check class, auditorium or library, this is real life, you don't know where she is, what she is doing as she stands you up. One date, two back ups. My ego stays with me. That was then.

Now it's one date, multiple orgasm, travel, out of town, sharing shower gel, and letting her drive when am tired. I left getting stood up to the single ones, and the one-date-two-back-up rule to those yet to find love. Love changes you.
Fall in love folks, fast, but even as you do, remember it's not going to be as epic as mine and babes... Cause I gave Cupid my chest, you showed him your ass! What do you expect? And your ass isn't that pretty anyways. Don't worry even mine isn't.

Smiles few off our faces, like the leafs and flowers flew off the windscreen, I was sure of our love. I could see it as clearly as the road ahead. And when I wondered whether she felt the same, she poured a kiss on my cheek, rolled her hand around mine and mashed it with her boobs. She was going to stay there no matter what gear I drove in.

I put in a faster gear and promised her Aberdare lodges next.