Katie hummed to herself as she strolled down the hallway, her small arms holding a large basket of laundry braced against her stomach. As she reached to door to the laundry room, she pinned the basket to the wall as she dug for her key in her pocket. As she produced the tiny key, she lifted a knee to help her shaking arm bear the weight of the encumbering load as she struggled to slip it into the door. As the towering basket tipped to the side, a sock fell off onto the floor.
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I have to confess that I was surprised when I heard the doorbell ring about mid-morning Sunday.
Who would come to visit me that early and especially on a Sunday? I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was my brother and his wife on their way back from church. We lived pretty close to each other, so if he needed to borrow a tool or something he might stop by.
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I glanced around nervously as Mya dug through her purse, searching for her keys.
"What time is your boyfriend coming home again?" I asked, waiting impatiently as she continued rummaging.
"Stop worrying about it?" she chided, pulling her keys from the purse, fumbling them in her drunken fingers. "He won't be back until the morning."
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The last thing I expected to see when I got home was my girlfriend naked on our bed, her legs spread wide, her own tits in her hands and her fingers pinching her nipples. The most surprising part of it, though, was that face down in her crotch was a guy that wasn't me.
He was eating her madly, his hands under her ass, holding her to him.
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Sometimes alcohol gets the best of a person. Especially when said person rarely drinks. Benny's girlfriend was very much a light drinker, which was the primary reason she had passed out on the couch adjacent Benny and his friend Travis. Both Benny and Travis had downed their fair share of beer that evening too, all in shallow celebration of nothing more than spending time together.
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Usually, I-75 from Fort Lauderdale to Naples isn't a very exciting ride. But as my car sped along, passing Florida State Road 19 at around 75 mph, I was pretty fired up. Yeah, I noticed the hundred or so gators sunning themselves on the embankment that lines the interstate; that was different. However, the hormones that were coursing through me this day didn't have anything to do with being excited over cars, or mileage, or gators. The drive itself was a nuisance.
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"Well, I have like 45 minutes to kill," sang the high-pitched, sweet teen voice of my daughter's curvy Latina friend Marisa, "would you like a sloppy blowjob?"
My ears weren't expecting that question, and I swear I must have blushed. Perverted middle-aged fathers don't get that question often, or at least, this one doesn't. Or hasn't before at least. Maybe she saw me staring at her ample boobs in her tight babydoll, or she detected my eyes on her stellar round butt in that thin little skirt a few minutes earlier.
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Dan spent last weekend up at his parents' house in the suburbs. It was one of those dead weekends. Many of his friends were out of town, working, or too tired to go out. On Friday before he left, he called Steve Morgan's cell phone again in one last ditch effort to try to get something going, but was greeted only by voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message, threw some clothes in a backpack, and drove up to his parents'.
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Julia picked up another glass of champagne as she glanced around the room.
"Pompous assholes," she thought to herself, taking a sip of the drink, watching the endless parade of rich old men arm in arm with their trophy wives.
Julia hated these functions and cringed at the mere mention of attending one. It was her duty, however, as her husband expected her to be there hanging off his arm like all the other fake plastic gold diggers that frequented fundraisers such as this one.
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Kendra Mercer untied the strings of her Missoni bikini and let them fall away from her shoulders, leaving the tiny triangles of fabric perfectly balanced on her firm, perky breasts. She let her body sink into the plush, cushioned lounge chair with an indulgent little sigh. Life was almost perfect.
After several years of dating Luke Prescott, the son of one of the most important and politically influential families in New York, she was finally engaged. Kendra glanced down at the 5-carat platinum sparkler on her left hand, admiring the way the sunlight bounced off the diamond.
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