A Waste of Time

I open my eyes at 6 am every morning. I shuffle to my kitchen without a swatch of clothing. My red Keurig is still on and unplugged since yesterday. The reusable K-cup never emptied. I can barely see the cabinet door. My quick reflexes were able to stop the coffee mug from falling on the floor. I might have used too much creamer. My morning can now begin.

I stare at the privacy fence surrounding my backyard. The birds provide a soothing melody. It motivates me to split this cigarillo in half. I seal the edges. My fingers break down each nugget. The next part of my morning begins.

School starts today. I am taking 18 credits; all related to my major. I bartend at three separate bars. I see my friends once every 2-3 months. I see the parents I live with in passing. My main form of communication is text and email.

I have not orgasmed in 1,723 days (about 4 and a half years). I tell my parents it is out of need. Reality: I do it on purpose. My best friend sees through me and has made it her life mission to get me out of the house. Some nights she succeeds.

"I called all 3 restaurants. I know you are not working today. The semester just started--you can miss the first day. Pack a bag--make sure you have a black dress. I will be at your house in 15 minutes."

I hate it when she does this shit.

I drag my feet following her instructions.

She will do for me if I drag my feet.

I threw a black duffle bag on my bed. I open my closet doors. I plop down onto the floor.

She opens the door with her key. She calls my name as she stomps loudly through the house. She stops at the kitchen and fixes herself a drink. She folds her arms when she finds me on the floor of the room. The tapping of her foot gave her location away. She mumbles under her breath as she steps over me. She rummages through my closet. She throws items of clothing at me. I laugh at her frustration. I look up to her and say,

"I'm the baby; I can't do things on my own."

Before I could bat my eyelashes, my go to black dress encountered my face.

"Bitch! I do not have time for your bullshit."

'Hooky Days,' as we call them, were my favorite days of the year. My best friend and I skipped out on life to eat and party. It is a fun-filled day of "anything goes." We used to get wild. Her words gave me the motivation I needed to stand up. 30 minutes later, I was ready to begin our first 'Hooky Day' adventure in 3 years.

We started at our favorite Hookah Lounge. This spot never strayed from its Mediterranean roots. We picked our favorite spot on the floor, asked for our favorite waiter, and began planning the rest of our day.

"Two options. Stay on this strip; or take the train to the next strip," she asks without taking her eyes off the menu.

"Bitch. You get the same thing every time. Fuck are you looking at,"

I deflect. I just want some dick.

"Please, give this child some act right," she proclaims to the entire restaurant.

I hate that she knows me so well.

"Y'all my last table. What y'all doing after this?"

The waiter could not have had better timing if he prayed for it. He invited us to a small kick back at his house later that night. He offered to let us chill at his house with him and his roommate until the party started. Little did he know, he had us at 'roommate.'

I flirt with this waiter every chance I get. He did not always work at this spot. My best friend and I have followed him to 3 different Hookah spots since we met him 5 years ago. Living in a small city, we were bound to meet eventually. His invitation was music to my ears.

"Stop! Go around back," his roommate yelled at us when he opened the door to his ground-level loft. We were forced to hop onto the backyard fence and enter through the kitchen. He fixed us a mojito, picked up the grinder, and led us into the carpeted living room.

A few mojitos later, the banter between us was unmatched. Our conversation was focused on me. I felt desired; I felt wanted. I barely felt his hand on my thigh. His fingers slowly creeped up my thigh. How does he know where my spot is? I anticipate his hand on my hip flexor when he says,

"Let's go to the room."

He locked the door and the conversation ended. He leaned in for a kiss. With one hand on my back, he pulled me closer. He pulled my hair with his other hand; rotating his tongue all around my mouth.

I began to feel a tingling sensation between my thighs. Before I knew it, I was naked. He pushed me onto his bed. He laid me on my back. He placed my feet on his chest. Straightening my legs, he pushed my toes behind my head. I feel his face near my pussy. The suction from his inhalation tickles my clitoris. He kisses my belly button. Slowly he moves down, kiss by kiss, until he reaches the top of my pelvic bone. In a swift movement he moves his head slightly to the right and begins to kiss my inner thigh.

How much longer is he going to make me wait?

In the blink of an eye, his nose buried deep in between my thighs. He pushed my legs back further. He began an uncoordinated rhythm of light kisses and long strokes with his tongue. He sucked on my clitoris and frenched kiss my labia. His mouth and tongue collectively made so many movements, I could do nothing more than gasp for air. He swallowed every drop I left behind. He stopped. He teased. I moaned. I leaked.

"Fuck it, floor it is," he smirked.

He grabbed my hands and slowly lowered himself to the floor.

I cannot ride.

He grabbed my thighs and pulled them closer to his face.

Not again.

Light kisses and long strokes, my thighs begin to tremble. I release repeatedly. I moan uncontrollably; he acts unphased. In control of my hips, he flips me onto my back. He comes up for air. He smiles. He descends again.

"I can't take it," I manage to scream out.

He sits up on his knees and grabs his semi-erect penis. My eyes follow his hands in a trance. I slowly moved towards him. I gently kiss his tip. Grabbing his shaft, I attempt to force every inch down my throat. I breathe through my nose and allow every drop of spit to fall from my mouth. I rotated my hands, and he grabbed my shoulder with one hand. I can feel him throbbing inside my mouth.

Returning to the bottom, just to come back up. Repeating these movements until I moisten every inch of his thickness. I hear his breathing increasing; 'should I'? Covering the tip with my tongue, I prepare for my descent down. Tracing his shaft with my tongue as my mouth goes up and down. Gradually increasing my speed. He moans. Slowing back down. Using my mouth like a suction cup, up and down. Pausing at the tip, I begin to kiss my way down, pausing at his balls; using my tongue to separate one from the other. His moans become louder as I place both in my mouth. With my hand stroking his penis, I juggle his balls with my tongue. My hands move in a circular motion as he moans louder and louder.

I trace my tongue back up his shaft, end with a kiss on the tip. Stroking his penis with both hands as I French kiss the tip. Placing more of him in my mouth. Finally losing room for my hands, my lips touch his balls again. Pausing for a moment before I return up. Gagging on his penis; before one final breath of air. Moving my mouth up and down; gradually increasing my speed. One final plunge; one final gasp of air. Remembering his earlier request, I am still not done. Kissing my way back down to his balls. I juggle his balls in my mouth again while stroking his penis. Filling my mouth with his penis just one more time.

Cum for me.

"Get on top"

Feeling like a fish out of water, I begin to panic thinking of ways to stall the inevitable.

Damn this is a lot to take.

I circle his tip around my clitoris. I slowly push him inside me. Taking deep breaths as I come up and down slowly, taking more of him each time. I touch my pelvis against his pelvis and position myself to rock back and forth.

He shakes beneath me. He moans and grabs my hips. He squeezes tighter and tighter. He stops.

"Round two after the party?" he says confidently.