Truth Meets Love Page 5
I need an outlet, an escape for the next two hours, and then it's a hot shower, then strawberry cheesecake and Ryan Gosling in that one movie whose name is really pointless once they show him in the preview shirtless. Let me think… ummm… I'll take my chances even if the critics don't feel it is Oscar worthy! It's Had-Worthy!
I start to move around the room in slow circles as the haunting lyrics of Shinedown's "Diamond Eyes" take over my body.
Chapter FIVE
My Landlord: The Stripper
Tralen -
I was leaving work to go get something to eat and pick Loosey up from my sisters before reviewing our potential new home later this evening.
I am still chuckling when I recall the events that transpired at the best meeting I have ever attended earlier this afternoon.
I arrived at a conference call taking place in Jimmy's office to discuss data integrity issues with the new head of Mergers and Acquisitions at Greyson Capital investment firm. I was late to the meeting but when I finally got there, I could hear a female voice echoing around the room when I came in his office. There was a confident and well-spoken women's voice explaining the suggestions she had for the data cleanup effort that had been sorely mismanaged according to Jimmy, our DBA at Mathis Engineering.
This prick named Larry who Jimmy thinks is worthless cuts her off while she was presenting solutions for the issues she just reviewed. Then he made some inappropriate comment regarding her age, sex and something to the effect of claiming that she is not capable of telling him how to do his job.
When only silence followed his rant, and a few snickers from others at his attempt to belittle her position and intelligence, I could tell within the three minutes that she was talking that she knew her shit and she was about to send that message to Larry loud and clear.
Jimmy put it on mute for a moment to speak to me without being heard and then said, "I bet she cries. What a fucking jerk. Such a dumbass, that guy."
I wanted to cheer her on and hoped that she defended herself, like my Mom would have.
Jenna, my mom, would have very eloquently set Larry straight and sent the message that he didn't intimidate her and she would not be undermined or judged by the asshat. She handled Bill with the same level hand and head. She was always setting the course and navigated the rough water to be on the lookout for incoming icebergs to steer us clear. She did this for both Cody and me, and even Bill, the sorry ass. When we lost her to the debilitating effects of ALS, or better known as "Lou Gehrig's Disease". Bill turned into a 24-hour drunken, mean shell of what he was with her. He was not real extraordinary before; add whiskey and that doesn't add any valuable points to upside of the character charts.
Cody got suspended for three days for beating up a jock for talking shit about me and my skills on the court. She found out the kid Cody punched out was drunk at school and threatened to kick Cody's ass before he defended himself and my honor. She unloaded on the principal about the need to reassess his priorities and focus on the eliminating the root of the problem and not treating the symptom. She told him she felt his inability to see the bigger picture was what would not change the behavior or prevent it from reoccurring and this placed her son at risk further in the future. She was very familiar with the outcome of mixing alcohol and testosterone. She was married to it.
My mom stood up for me, too, so many times. She always worked to ensure I got the resources and time on the court and went to camps and tournaments. She even petitioned the school board to let me try out for the high school Varsity basketball team as an eighth grader because she believed in me and the dreams I had been working hard for. She did everything within her grasp to ensure I got the chance to achieve them. She did the same for Cody and teaching him music. She knew we were different and driven by other kinds of engines, and she did her best to always encourage and support us both.
She always said that if we wanted something badly enough to work to get it, we most likely would if we didn't weaken and stuck the course. It seemed she was willing to work just as hard for our dreams as hers, because in reality they were the same in the end. She wanted to see us become men we could be proud of. It was a win-win for her. Just before she passed, she said, "Tralen, you and Cody made me shift the course of my dreams to even better ones. I can rest in peace knowing all my greatest dreams came true. You were my dream come true and gave me a life full of love. The two of you are by far my best accomplishment and source of PRIDE AND JOY… even considering my pre-maturely grey hair, of course!"
I channel Mom. "She's not going to cry. I bet she is going to take that shit he just tried to sling at her and shove it back up and through that new asshole she is about to give him."
Jimmy takes the mute button off just as she delivers the blow. She provided Larry a new asshole, all right, then sent him from the room with his little dick stuck down between his ass cheeks. I fell in love and then erupted in a loud laugh before Jimmy could scramble to hit the mute button again.
I arrive at the address and I see the slate blue Toyota Tundra in the driveway, as was mentioned in the text. It is 7:45PM and I am a little early. This location would be a short commute to my new office at Greyson Capital, and it is also close to my gym. If the inside of the unit is as appealing as the outside, then I won't hesitate to snatch it up. There are four units lined up in a row with garages, small fenced front yards and porches off the front. Fuck! I need to remind myself to look at the backyard for a larger fenced area for Loosey. Hence the reason I am house hunting right now. My lil' bro's big joke--leaving me a four month old puppy named Loosey for my birthday gift that isn't actually until next weekend.
He came to town to play a gig at our old watering hole after touring the West Coast with his band, BlackWater. He spent the remainder of the last week trying to set me up with every woman under sun, until I took him to the airport about five days ago. I thought he was exaggerating his disapproval of my standards and methods for the selection process and frequency of occurrence as it related to women. I couldn't have been more wrong. He could always play my strings too fucking well, too!
While he was visiting I made him go with me to a wedding reception for a guy from work. Marcus manages the IT department for Greyson Capital Inc., the company that is acquiring the one I currently am employed with. I didn't know him well but he seemed to be a cool dude and he said it would be a good party. He wasn't lying. Cody got smashed and was a handful. I had made him take his earrings out of eyes and lips to try to look presentable and non-celebrity status, so his growing fame did not distract from Marcus's big day. However, I had to beat Cody senseless the next day when he finally sobered up. I wanted to make sure he felt it.
He had slipped a Viagra in my beer before we left the house that night. He thought I needed to get laid more so that was his fucked-up solution to my "problem." I couldn't stay too pissed because that was the most incredible sexual experience I could recall ever having that night… I just didn't get a chance to get her full name. I definitely did not share that news with Cody, for fear it would encourage him to encore his pill dropping stunt.
It happened when I started sweating halfway in to my third beer and my heart started to pick up pace. Cody could see the growing tension and discomfort as I almost involuntarily eyed every girl that passed by. He burst out laughing and whispered in my ear that I should probably lay off drinking too much, "since it was my first time using Viagra." If we hadn't been surrounded by guys from the company that is acquiring us, I would have taken out my mounting frustration by pummeling his scrawny ass right then and there. However, I had a more immediate problem. I needed to unload now. My dick almost hurt, so I headed to the only place I could get quick resolution to that problem: the bathroom… to get my hand reacquainted with my dick and give myself some fucking peace!
On the way to the bathroom there was a beautiful olive-skinned woman dancing alone in the hallway. I had seen her dancing all night and laughing out loud while I was bullshitting with Cody and
introducing him to some guys at our table from work. She didn't appear to be with any "one" person and I couldn't waste this song. I watched her body sway to the pulse of the music playing from the reception hall and streaming down the hallway in front. I assumed she was waiting for someone to come out of the bathroom and just passing the time.
My dick basically made me do it. I slid my hands down her arms and clasped my hands to hers and pulled her back against me as I started to move with her. I can't dance and I didn't want to interrupt or keep her from enjoying this song. I just wanted to escape to that utopia that she seemed to be caught in when I came up.
The back of her body pressed to my chest, and my aching dick got some needed stimulation by the pressure of her ass against it. The smell of her hair, the taste of her skin, that sweet full mouth--she was about to break my hand with the intensity of her squeeze. I had to laugh as I was kissing up her neck and to her ear, because she was killing me all over. She must have been a little worked up by the whole situation too. Once my numb fingers regained circulation, I about exploded when she reached between us during the best part of the song and started to stroke my cock outside my pants. Then she pulled my hand under the front of her skirt.
She had her other hand in my hair, and I was trying to restrain myself as I rubbed her soft hot spot from the outside of her panties. I nearly lost my load when I felt the piercing above her clit.
My lower brain took over, fully operating with sex drug-induced fuel, along with my army of soldiers trying to break the front line. They had been on about a year long hiatus from this particular battleground. However, they were like 'minutemen'. They came to full attention without question. My guys might have been a little more aggressive than normal given the v-juice assface slipped in my drink. However I had faith in their ability to their job when they were eventually called up from the reserves to active duty.
I picked her up with my left arm under her breasts as they pushed up against my arm. The peaked nipples beneath her dress were tickling my forearm… I don't think she was wearing a bra. OH BOY… I about lost it. Heat was pouring from me; sweat was running down my spine under my shirt and suit jacket. I moved with her in my arms into the little alcove off the hallway, in a little more private area. I felt the chair in front of her as I set her down on her own feet. She had her back still pressed to my front when she reached around to slide her hands onto my dick after she freed my throbbing shaft from the safety of my slacks. The huge rush of air I had been holding escaped my lungs… just as my thumb left her center where I had been running it over her pierced clit. I slid my fingers into her and her pussy clenched around them. I had to have her now so with every ounce of courage I could muster, I tried to push the words, "I want you." I waited for her to tell me that it wasn't going to happen and it was fun while it lasted. But she didn't.
I stilled her strokes and took over control of the gear shift. I took the tip of my dick and rubbed her pussy from behind as my cock twitched… like he was reaching for her. I was about to tell her that I didn't have a condom on me, as this what not something I expected to happen, when she raised up and pushed back, effectively pressing her opening over the wet tip of my cock in one slow swift motion.
This could have been bad if I couldn't control this. I also needed to remember to pull out. I was free riding here and it was awesome… I have never been inside a woman before without "cover." I should probably be more concerned about the consequences of that fact… but when she reached down in front and rubbed her clit while I was inside her, I couldn't hold on. I pushed her forward, holding her out from me by her hip, and pulled my dick out to spurt the warm liquid in my hand just as I heard a door open and someone whip by. It was dark, and I think they sounded like they were crying.
The gorgeous woman that just reinvented sex for me quickly adjusted herself and just giggled with a curtsy as the girl went by that seemed upset. Then she straightened her skirt and started down the hall before I could think clearly. She said she needed to check on her friend and she would be back. I couldn't follow just yet, as I was hunched over, trying to get myself straight and holding a palm full of my own semen. I asked in a rush, "What's your name?"
She responded, "Harley" as she pushed the door of the bathroom open to enter.
I got my straight-shooter back in my pants and laughed to myself about the whole experience. I snuck down the dark hall to the bathroom to discard my fallen soldiers in the sink and washed my hand. I couldn't believe that just happened.
When I came out of the bathroom I didn't see anyone except Cody, who was taking off down the hall, and I could see by his stagger that he was very drunk and agitated. I am not sure what his deal was but he looked distraught, so I tried to catch up with him. I figured I'd see Harley again at the reception hall. However, Cody's celebrity status started to become an issue when a few girls recognized him and kept trying to get him to go on stage and play one of his songs "for them." He was in no condition or mood to deal with the attention, so we left before I could find her again and get her number.
I asked Marcus about her the following week, when he stopped by with my new laptop. He said all the olive-skinned hot chicks are on his wife's side of the family and he didn't know anyone named "Harley." That is just my luck… that was probably her. My dream come, true and I missed my chance.
If the Viagra stunt Cody pulled wasn't enough, I came home from taking him to the airport to find my living room was destroyed and an angry landlord was waiting for my return rather impatiently. She hissed out her disgust by letting me know that moving vans had already been called and I was to move my belongings out and vacate the premises within 12 hours. She informed me that I shouldn't expect my deposit back and she would send invoices for damages to my forwarding address. She then marched to the door throwing back, "It was clear in my lease that pets were not allowed!" Then she slammed the door on her way out.
He left me a fucking puppy with a sign tied to its tail. It must have been chasing it for most likely an hour judging by the state of what was left of my living room! When I finally dug her out from under the couch, the sign read, "I got you the only bitch I could find to love your ugly ass. I took the liberty of naming her Loosey! Happy Birthday! Peace Out, Cody."
I saw the ad for this place at work yesterday on the break room bulletin board. I was more than overjoyed when I drove by and saw it and the location so I texted the number on the ad.
I walk up the porch and see the lights on and the door ajar. I hear the faint bass of music thrumming through the door. I ring the doorbell and no one answers. I peek my head through the door and say "hello" in a raised voice. Still no response. Maybe they are repairing the unit for lease and working out of earshot. I get yelled at constantly when I am onsite for not paying attention when I am called. I am usually just zoned out on the vision of what I want to lay out or build and what materials and elements would be the most efficient and safest to use to develop it.
The property manager texted back an invite calendar request in the message for 8PM, so they are expecting me. I am desperate, so I decide I will just step inside the door.
I stroll cautiously through until someone acknowledges my presence. Someone is obviously home. I find myself following the beats from the music I hear streaming from the open loft area above. It is raised up with a railing that allows a view of the main entrance and living space below. I slowly walk up the stairs, calling out for Mr. Masters Hadley, as the text return says across my screen as I am checking the appointment again. It is now five minutes after eight, and I have a game to coach at the gym that starts at 9PM.
Yes, it is not lost on me that is it a Friday night and the highlight of my wild night will be coaching 10-12-year-old girls in their regional championship game. I can't be late or my sister Mags and Shilo, my niece and point guard, will have me by the short hairs. They may be small but I have learned that their wrath holds no less fury than any man I've stepped toe to toe with.
I glance toward th
e pounding of the beat as the words "put your hands on my baby" throttle my eardrums. I am more of a country fan myself. That is all that played in our house growing up. Well, except for Cody's band playing metal and punk in the abandoned barn down by the reservoir so Dad couldn't hear. Just as I am about to yell out "hello" for about the fifth time, I catch movement over to my right at ground level as I come up the steps and peer through the banister opening up to the loft area.
My eyes won't blink: the skin, the black lace, the shoe laying just in front of my face, obstructing part of my view of her bare chest--it's Harley… the girl from the wedding reception. I can tell by the color of her skin, her hair, the grace of her body when she moves.
She turns her back to the stairs, holding the silver pole between her hands, and she thrusts and rubs her center between her legs, up and then slowly back down the pole. Then she removed her left hand to cup her bare left breast in her palm and squeezed in rhythm to the beat of the bass that was faintly playing. I could barely hear it behind the blood rushing from my head to my groin and into my ears.