Huh?
How did I end up in Dallas?
Fucking a 23 year old who works in my department, who could have me fired like a shot from a cannon - and occasionally seems hell bent on doing so?
Wondering, this is not my beautiful apartment?
This is not my ridiculous life?
Well,
how did I get here?
I know better, now, than to suggest this is some type of beginning, of me starting to write again. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.
Time will tell.
But I sincerely hope you're doing well - and it'd be great to hear from you.
-Colton
Walking around
So.
Apparently, I'm single. I say apparently, because my live in girlfriend, whose made up name I can't remember right now, it's been so long since I've been here, doesn't seem that resolute.
And I'm conflicted.
Am I looking forward to oral sex?
YES, I am.
Any other sex?
Most definitely.
And I've thought about how much freedom all this would bring, probably since well before I started writing here.
Guess I wasn't as ready as I thought.
I need silverware and a toaster.
I have February 11th - 14th off work.
I should go somewhere and have some sex. More like a lot.
So much that I can't touch my cock without thinking "Ow. Maybe I shouldn't've fucked that last girl."
Might not make me feel any better.
But it certainly won't make me feel any worse, will it?
So.
How the fuck've you all been?
Nothin' from nothin' is nothing
You got to have something.
And I don't. But I'm still here, pluggin' away.
Tryin' to keep The Man's boot off my neck.
With limited success.
Got a voice mail from Meg and Jefferson on, I think, Sunday morning? Monday morning? My days are so much the same I can't be sure. In any case, it was a high point of my weekend, and my only regret, aside from not enjoying my life more right now, is that I was sleeping, and didn't answer.
Sounded like good times.
So that's the something.
Take that away, and I got nothin'.
Well, I got more than that, but it's the same thing. I got nothin' NEW, I guess is more accurate.
And I'm too tired to get back to where I left off with Carmen right now. Just thinkin' about that girl wears me out, and I'm already weary.
I will get to her though, when the flesh is more willing, and my spirit more able.
Hope y'all are havin' my share of fun.
If not, get to work!
I don't even know where to start
I spent the earlier part of my evening drinking. The part up to now, catching up on the reading.
I apologize for just "disappearing." It unsettles me that Jo has just vanished despite assurances that she's fine. Joy's brief respite also kind of "weirded me out." Maddie went on a brief hiatus, but if she goes missing, I can track her down. If not on her phone, than I could probably find her parents, or a brother. Jenna, after reading her girlfriend's blog, has had her hands a bit full. Jez comes and goes like a will 'o' the wisp still piecing together the bits of her heart recently rent asunder. Marcus is almost posting enough to give me hope he might start blogging, the fucking tease. Viv and TOM can be counted on to say just the right thing at just the right time. Jefferson continues to bleed quality on what must be a daily basis - I don't even know how that is possible. Meg reaches through both the phone and the web to give my heart the gentle tug it doesn't even know it needs, but longs for all the same.
So here's the thing. Well, maybe not THE thing, but certainly A thing.
I hope to all the things that are important to me that none of you depend on only me the way I depend on all of you.
I am reliable. People who know me well know that if they need something, really, can't live without it, I'll do what needs to be done, pleasant or not. I take it as a point of pride, even though I know that kind of reliability also makes me predictable, and consequently more boring and less mysterious. So be it. Apparently, it's who I am.
And I'm really taking the long way around to say this. I've come to count on you. Marcus doesn't have his own blog, and while I hate to admit it, I don't read all of you all the time. But I take more comfort than I'd imagine you would guess, even if you really thought about it, in knowing that you're out there. Out here, really.
Meg sent me the briefest of notes asking how I was doing with all the company I'd had. Darlin'? Great to see 'em. Great to see 'em go. I love all of them, differently than I love all of you. And I was so glad to see them go.
Part of the difference though, in how I love all of you, is this. I can have you all on my terms.
I'm not saying I wouldn't have you on other terms, because I for each of you, I'd make some compromises. What would I NOT do for Madeline, for instance?
I get the sense I'm rambling a bit. It happens.
Cliff's notes? Please keep writing. I'll try to do better. I've missed you. I'm really glad I found the time to catch up with you. I'm warm thinking that everyone seems to be hopeful about the possibility that summer brings.
On my end, I hope that within a week of this night, I'll have made the time to stop lurking and commenting and actually post something.
Until then,
Good night, gentle folk. I appreciate you.
Carmen, Act I, Scene III
"It's a TWIN BED?!?!"
"So."
"Right. It's also the last one. Are you sure this is o.k., Carmen?"
"Yes."
"Will you put on some music, Colton? I'm going to freshen up."
"I will."
I fumbled with the stereo, trying to find a good station, or a cd that didn't piss me off, until she emerged from the bathroom in her panties.
Her hair covered her breasts. Standing in the doorway, the only bright light in the room coming from the behind her I could see little more than her silhouette. She was dark. Her hips were full. She was taller than I remembered. Her breasts were bigger too. I remembered Tony guessing she'd had them worked on.
I stood up, and turned to face her. We met at the foot of the bed.
We kissed.
She bit my lower lip, hard.
I bit back, harder.
I tasted blood.
Hers or my own, or both, I couldn't tell. I didn't care.
I held her face with both of my hands.
I wound the fingers of my left hand into her hair.
I pulled her head back, kissing her chin, biting her neck.
With my right hand, I pulled her breast to my mouth, and bit.
She cried out.
I stopped.
Carmen pushed me away from her.
She said, "Why did you stop."
It wasn't a question, so much as a demand.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You can't."
"I won't."
"Colton, do you know how you'll know if you're hurting me?"
"I won't do that."
"Answer the fucking question!"
I'm confused. What the fuck is she talking about? How much did she have to drink? How much did I?
I clench my teeth and stifle a roar that comes out "
HOW?"
"I'll fucking tell you you're hurting me."
Then she closes the three feet of space between us and tears off my shirt.
She can't figure out my belt, and growls at me to take it off.
I pick her up by the arms, and throw her onto the bed. I'm still not sure what is happening, exactly, but I'm not about let Carmen and her smug pretentions order me around.
I take my time taking off my belt. I drop in on the floor and step out of my shoes.
I undo the button and zipper and step out of my pants.
I bend down to take off my socks, not taking my eyes off Carmen's.
I slip off my boxer briefs.
I step around the side of the bed closest to the bathroom.
I lean over to kiss her.
I wrap the fingers of my right hand into her hair.
I kiss her mouth, hard.
My left hand finds her nipple and twists it.
She bites my lip again. This time, I know it's my blood I can taste.
She grunts.
I pinch her nipple harder. I release it, and slap her breast hard enough to leave a mark.
Again, she cries out.
I slap her face.
She smiles.
I pull her mouth onto my swiftly stiffening cock.
I slap her other breast. Then I pinch the nipple, hard enough to turn my fingernails white.
She keeps sucking. Louder now.
I slide my hand under her panties.
They're purple.
I know this, because until I moved to the Pacific Northwest, they were in my safe.
They're soaked.
I know this, because as I drove to Vegas, they were still wet in my glove compartment.
I pull them toward her feet, still holding her face to my cock.
I climb on to the bed, a knee on either side of Carmen's head.
I bury my face in her her almost bare pussy.
Her clit is swollen.
Her labia, too.
She tastes exotic. Like Marrakesh or Morrocco. Somewhere on the Spice route.
I push my elbows under her knees until her feel are up in the air, my elbows in the backs of her knees.
I greedily eat her pussy.
I'm biting and sucking on her clit.
She's squirming and moaning around my cock.
My saliva and her juices are running down the crack of her ass, and pooling around her asshole.
I'm seconds from coming already.
She does.
She almost falls off the bed holding onto my ass, trying to keep sucking my cock as I struggle to pull away.
I won't know until the next night as I'm getting ready to head to out for the evening from my room in Las Vegas that she dug her fingernails into my ass and thighs hard enough to draw blood.
All I know now is that I don't want to cum yet.
Carmen looks disoriented.
"Are you allright?" I whisper.
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes, I think so."
"Yes."
"Be sure. I'll ask again."
"Yes."
"Fuck me."
"NOW!"
I wrap my right hand around her throat. So quickly, she has no idea it's coming.
First, her eyes go wide with surprise, and she sucks in a little breath.
Then, she smiles.
I lean into her face.
"Don't fucking tell me what to do," I hiss.
Then, I squeeze.
She smiles wider.
"Do you understand."
Her lips peel back.
"Fuck you."
I smile.
And let go of her neck.
I grab a fist full of her hair.
Her gorgeous, looooong black hair.
The hair I used to steal smells of, as I'd lean over her shoulder at work, pointing out a better sentence structure.
Now I know she took a dive.
She made the mistakes on purpose.
To tease me.
Who's teasing who now, Carmen?
I twist her head to her right, her neck, and the rest of her body follow.
She's face down on the bed.
I pull her hair back until she's on all fours.
I pull her back further, while I dig in my pants for a condom.
I find one, and tear the wrapper open with my teeth.
I set the condom on her lower back as I switch hands so I can use my right hand to roll the condom onto myself.
I suck on my right thumb, wetting it with spit as I slowly pull Carmen back towards my cock.
I roughly run my thumb from her pussy over her asshole, starting to push it in her.
Carmen tries to turn around, but I pull harder on her hair.
I grab my cock with my right hand, and guide it into her pussy.
With my left, I pull her hair to my left, forcing her to watch us in the mirrored closet doors, as I fuck her.
She arches her back and pushes back into me.
"Harder."
I give her hair a sharp jerk, and let it go.
I dig the fingers of each hand into the flesh at the top of her hips.
I push and pull her away from me and into me, as I fuck.
I'm certain I'm brusing my pubic bone with every thrust.
I push my right hand into the small of her back.
I keep slamming us together with my left hand.
"Look at us, Carmen."
"Unghfffff."
"I waited a decade for this."
"MMMMmmmmggghhhhffff."
She comes again, bucking into me with no rhythym.
I try to still her, so I can get started again, but she pulls forward and away from me.
Her eyes are as big as saucers.
I move to push her knees toward her chest and climb on top of her again.
"Enough."
What?!
"I have to go."
I can't imagine the look on my face. Picture, in your head, the photo that would go in the dictionary next to "slack jawed yokel." Better yet, "incredulous slack jawed yokel."
"What's wrong?!?!"
"I have to go."
This, while she's starting to get dressed.
"Are you o.k.?"
"No."
"I have to go."
She's dressed. She's looking around for her purse.
"Wait, I'll walk you to your car."
"Then hurry. I need to leave, NOW."
I dress. I find her panties, still sopping wet, and shove them into my pocket. I'm afraid if I don't, I'll believe this was a dream.
Or a nightmare.
Somehow, the bill has already been slipped under the door.
On the way by the desk, I ask if there is anything else I need to do to check out.
There isn't.
At her car, Carmen kisses me goodbye.
"Call me tomorrow," she says.
I say, "It IS tomorrow."
"Then call me later today."
"I will."
"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"
"No."
"But I'm glad you came to meet me Colton."
"I have to go."
"Call me."
Curtain closes.
Carmen, Act I, Scene II
I was late, spending 20 minutes trying to avoid a $25 valet fee. I was in grad school for fuck's sake, and spending the summer of my internship travelling around the West while I still had the freedom to do so.
Carmen was sitting at the bar, drinking... scotch, maybe? At least she handn't given up on all of her pretensions - that was something.
I stood behind her, watching her in the mirror behind the bar, waiting to see if she'd recognize me. I must have waited a whole 10 seconds before I couldn't take it any more and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
"Carmen? You look like you've surpassed the promise of the woman you might have become. Amazing."
She turned. Looked at me. Smiled. Spent what felt like an hour looking into my eyes before taking a head to toe inventory.
"You have no idea."
She was right. And in the space of a minute, I was 20 again. Lost in my head, wondering what the fuck I was doing, and how not to fuck it up.
So, just in time, I decided to pretend I had a clue.
We ordered again, and went to a table out by the pool overlooking the city. I had a LOT of listening to do.
Carmen had met the love of her life - but couldn't tell me more. They had broken up, and it had been nasty. Very nasty. She couldn't tell me more without crying.
So we talked about everything else.
The more we drank, the easier it got. She was never sloppy. It just doesn't exist within her. It did come out though, that she wasn't ANYONE's little sister.
She liked fucking. Her ex was preoccupied with work.
She liked giving up control.
She liked girls.
As a prelude to cock.
While we were sitting, drinking and talking, I excused myself to the restroom.
I returned to find Carmen at the outdoor bar talking to what looked like a gaggle of models, if not super models.
When she came back to the table, she said they'd invited her up to their suite. She said she'd check with me. Do you want to go?
Are you fucking kidding me?! I'm supposed to leave for Vegas tonight to catch up with a bunch of my friends from high school, and one of my neighbors from Texas. Models? I can't explain what came out of my mouth next.
"No. I'd rather just talk to you. It might be another ten years before I see you again."
Another smile.
"You're sweet. And I had such a crush on you. Now I'm going to the ladies room. Will you get us another drink?"
"Yes."
While she was gone, the models were checking me out from the other side of the pool. In my head I could hear their thoughts, as clearly as my own.
"Is he rich? Hung? Both? How'd he get HER?!"
Carmen got back just as the drinks did.
After the waitress left, I said, "Carmen, I have to say something - and please don't take it the wrong way, I value what I sincerely hope will be a strong friendship in the future. If I don't say this though, I'll never forgive myself, and I can't live with that kind of regret."
"What? Is something wrong?"
"Not at all. Maybe inappropriate, but not wrong. I'm going to go get a room. Will you settle our tab, while I do that? When I come back, I'm going to invite you to spend the night with me. It won't hurt my feelings if you don't, but I can't sit here anymore listening to you tell me about who you are now, and not want you. I'll get to Vegas when I get there, and I don't expect that we'll have more than tonight, if we have that. If I come back and you say no, I'll see to it that you get home, and I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll talk about how we can do a better job of keeping in touch."
"If you say yes, though, you get to realize what you called your 'crush' a few minutes ago, and I... Well, I've wanted you since well before we went skiing."
"You'll get the check?"
"Yes."
"I'll be back."
I got the last room available. I can't tell you how relieved I was it wasn't a suite. I won't get into how much it was - but if it hadn't been her, and I hadn't had a half dozen cocktails, and she hadn't become something else entirely than I was prepared for, I would have probably just got into my car and headed East.
I came back, smiling.
"Carmen?"
"Colton?"
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
"Yes."
The Opera - Carmen, Act I, Scene I
In the office where I worked as an undergrad at the large private university in Los Angeles, there were two women. Hell, there were a lot more than two, but we were all to greater and lesser degrees captivated by both of them.
Andi, a dead ringer for "Mallory" from Family Ties was the good natured, sweet, tall, gawky girl next door. She was smarter than the girl from the TV show she favored, but probably less coordinated. Hot, but in the way hope your little sister isn't, because she's your little sister. Exactly the kind of hot you hope your older sister is, because, well, she's bound to have hot friends that you're just certain one day will start to take you seriously.
Carmen was her diametric opposite. If Andi was the light, Carmen was definitely the darkness. Graceful, elegant, wickedly fucking smart, cultured, and undoubtably a daughter of privilege of some type. Greek/Spanish? French/Indian? Who knew? Who cared? Even though she was a "serious person" and a good student, too caught up in preparing for law school (Top 5 program, geographically diverse - looks good on a resume, law review, magna cum laude) she was capable of being funny, usually unintentionally.
"Where do you ski?"
"Me?" I answered? "Colorado is the only place I've ever been."
"Oh." Pause. "Gstaad is amazing!"
She realized how pretentious it sounded moments after the rest of us, but don't think we let her live it down.
I even got to go on a last second ski trip with her. I was hanging around the office finishing up some work and she was racing around trying to get out of the office to head out of town.
"Hey, Colton?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you doing after work?"
"I dunno."
"Want to come to Mammoth with Jill and I?"
"When?"
"We're leaving in an hour."
"Pick me up on your way out."
Nothing happened. Although she DID warm my bed up before climbing into the one she shared with Jill, her sorority (looks good on a resume) sister.
Carmen was really close to our boss, who swore she was chaste. Maybe she'd slept with her college boyfriend who ended up being slimy. But that was about it.
Then she got married to her best friend from high school.
And I'll be fucked if he wasn't even goofier than I was. Except for being a lawyer, I was, well, better than him. Smarter, more athletic, funnier - what the fuck?! Still, I was delighted to be invited to the wedding, even though I couldn't make it. My future ex-wife even wanted to go, but we had already committed to a different wedding.
So that was two guys she'd slept with.
And I think the last time I heard of her until our former boss, with whom we'd both individually remained close to dropped this on me, after my own wedding.
"Hey, Colton - had lunch with Carmen last week."
"Yeah - still sultry?"
"Fuck an A. Better. It's like now that she's divorced, she's recognized the power of her sexuality - and she's on the prowl."
"Think she's hit sleeping around yet?"
"Carmen? No chance. She told me she just likes the power."
"That about fucking figures."
"Oh, anyway - she told me that she was into you back when you both worked with me."
"Fuck you."
"No, seriously. She asked about you. I caught her up on the important developments, and then she said something about wondering why you never asked her out."
"Tony, let me be perfectly clear about this: Carmen would have gone out with me?"
"Yes."
"And you're telling me this now."
"Yes."
"If I were standing right there, instead of half a continent away, I would belt you right in the fucking mouth!"
"Why!? That's great news!"
"Shut the fuck up and listen, you prick. I'm married. And NOW, when it does me NO good, when I can do NOTHING about it, when my hands are tied, you tell me that I could have gone out with CARMEN!?"
"Oh. Uhhhhhhhhh, nevermind."
Then we laughed.
Then I got divorced.
And found myself once again in the City of Angels, with plans to meet Carmen at a hotel downtown.
No show.
Tony consoled me with this: "Don't worry. Happens to me all the time. She's busy - and you know her job pretty much runs her life. I think she said she had to fly to London at the last minute tomorrow morning, so it's not like she's blowing YOU, personally, off."
I knew that - but still. I had new information. Well, it wasn't exactly new information, but it did change things.
Or, I thought it changed things. I know now of course, that I had changed things. The kid that had been intimidated by a girl as smart as he was, with some idea of what she wanted, even if she was only pretending it was something she'd considered before choosing, was gone. At least, he'd faded to the back of the frame.
Yet again, occasion to spend an evening in the city I really grew up in.
Again, plans with Carmen.
This time at the Mondrian in Hollywood. Million dollar view of the city below. Would she show?
Yes.
With a bullet.
