avoid this post if you’re easily offended
sunday began pretty fucking early. james and I woke up, drove around, and within an hour, i had a new apartment. james helped me out on the deposit and i’m waiting on the final word from my new landlord.
it was now about 11am and james had to head back down to miami. he insisted on my company for that dreadful 5 hour drive (understandable).
we arrived in miami at about 4. it would have been much earlier but we stopped for lunch. turnpike rest stop food is never as good as your stomach convinces you it will be.
james and i made our way up to his apartment, located in downtown miami close to brickell on the 14th floor (that’s right my brother’s the shit). james dropped his bags and immediately was on the phone and computer organizing details for the event later that night at the Raleigh, a pretentious south beach hotel bar where gold falls from the ceilings and the concierges all poop starbursts. it’s just that sassy. so I decided to head down to my local guitar center to play their demo drum set (one of my favorite things to do in the world). i always feel like a stud when I get up from the set dripping sweat, walk over to the guy at the desk who i am sure is expecting me to buy something, and simply giving him back the drumsticks and leaving. chances are they hate me.
james has this ridiculous grace under fire / pressure. i got back to the apartment and james already had some of the small-time models that were hired to keep the crowd going at the event that night. it was about 8 now and the event didn’t start until 11 or so. 2 things were possible. these stupid girls had absolutely no life, or james needed them to prepare for 3 hours to be semiprofessional hot / loose girls. whatever.
of course i tried my hand at 3 of them. i was still kinda sweat soaked but my confidence was flying pretty high. no go. being james’ brother has yet to get me laid but i guess this was the first time i had ever tried to pull that card.
i showered and found that keisha had texted me. it didn’t even cross my mind to respond. the girls were starting to drink so i thought it would only be a matter of time. i got dressed and kinda had a weird moment where i just listened to everything going on in the apartment. the stupid girls with their vapid conversation and disgusting excuse for music, james and his crazy hands-free wha-cha-ma-jiggy droning on about the minutia concerning the event. i realized i was pretty lucky and that this could be a scene in a movie. maybe i should be a movie star.
i was right about the girls getting loose with the alcohol. i went back into the living room (now an impromptu dance floor for all intents and purposes) and made myself a scotch. i started dancing with kara and before i knew it we were listening to some fucking new hip hop bullshit (i love older hip hop but the new stuff is just sickening [in my humble opinion]). i was willing to over look the music as kara had the most beautiful ass I had ever seen and said beautiful ass was being rubbed against my crotch to the beat of this new ludacris the fuckface jam. i had a brick of a hard-on and i know she felt it. she kept going though. before i could work my way into kara, james comes out all dressed up and states, “we’re leaving.”
damn you james.
before we left i made some excuse so that i could change my boxers as kara’s provocative dance left me with precum in my pants. fucking kara.
i could go on about the whole drive and how i came close to getting blown by kara in the limo but it didn’t happen so let’s skip it.
being at the raleigh for about an hour now, it was midnight and most of the south beach elite had arrived / were arriving. son of a bitch. you really have no idea what it was like.
being james’ brother, i had a trump card that everyone knew about and i abused it. why the fuck not? these people had their heads so far up one another’s asses it was laughable at best. whether it was because of kara’s actions earlier or not, i also had a set of melon sized balls resting in my scrotum that night. i made my way into the dj booth and found an acoustic guitar. being just drunk enough, i actually tried to convince the dj to cut the music so i could play a little acoustic diddy guaranteeing me some ass. my trump card was not going to trump this situation but i caught the eye of this amazing woman at some ridiculously lame VIP table. once i realized the dj was not going to let me stop the dance music for an ego massage, i made my way to the bar. i know, shocking.
my laziness makes me adore a woman who is aggressive and fucking goes for it. marina certainly did. she made her way to the bar and let me know that she drinks hibiscus swizzles, nearly giving me an aneurism while i tried to figure out what exactly she was talking about. i ordered the woman her drink. she said nothing. she took a sip, placed the cup down on the bar and reached over lightly grasping the back of my neck. whispering (as much as you can whisper in a bar /club) in my ear she said, “i just held a conference at the National and i still have the key to the convention center.” my dick twitched and i grabbed her hand and proceeded to lead her out of the hotel. she immediately dropped my hand and continued walking. odd i thought at the time but this seems to be the way marina operates. a real type-A kinda lady. following her like a puppy, someone punch me the next time you see me for doing this, we made our way to the national. marina must have been pretty fucking well to do because not one person at the national asked us what we were doing there or if they could help us. the convention center doors opened and i walked in and felt like i was in a dream. marina locked the huge double-doors which was a little startling at first and then lead me to the main podium (really it was just an incredibly long table that spanned the entire front of the convention center. when i tell you this place was huge i mean that every footstep would echo 4 or 5 times when i would walk). for a second i felt like i was being lead to the slaughter because the podium was kind of like a huge monument /sacrificial table at the head of this room.
brace yourselves.
marina threw me up against the table and began undressing me simultaneously kissing / biting me. definitely assault under any other circumstances. i returned the favor but when i would go for her dress she would smack my hand away. it was quite the struggle. she stripped me down to my boxers, thank god i changed them earlier, and laid me down on the podium. she removed her dress leaving just panties (her breasts were spectacular enough as to not require any bra). she mounted me and began kind of teasing me with rubbing and such. while this was going on she had my arms pinned back. it was quite the gender-role reversal i’d say. she then grabbed the back of my neck, getting up and leaning back pulling my face into her “area.” i was like the bitch. long story short, i made her cum once that way and then proceeded to do the same in a more traditional way another 2 times. the whole time we were going at it, I was only in control when she allowed it. at one point I even tried to wrestle the power away from her which caused us to fall from the podium to the ground but i shit you not, it was as if nothing happened. she retained control and my face tingled as she brought to ‘el fin’ of our little dirty interaction. if i’m being honest, i’d say it was demeaning and unbelievably hot at the same time. i don’t really remember wearing a condom but i assume she took care of that too.
fucking wow. that was unbelievable. i think i was still laying in the post-coital position with what i felt like rug burns on my back (turns out it was a healthy mixture of rug burns and scratch marks) when i realized it was time to go. marina was done. i knew she had a good time as i was still soaked in the proof. that was irrelevant to her though. she got dressed and made her way out of the convention center. there’s a strong possibility that i passed out for a little bit because i remember kinda waking from a daze, naked on the floor of this fucking room still reflecting on what just transpired. she was long gone
i picked myself up, got dressed, left the room and headed for the bathroom. i found a handicap stall with a sink n mirror in it secluded from prying eyes and washed myself off. thank god i’m not a particularly sensitive person because even with my world-renowned emotional callousness, i still felt a little used & discarded. <br>of course now being without marina, every dickface that worked at the national asked me if i was lost and how they could help me.
i made my way back to the Raleigh where I found james and jarrod outside of the club dancing for some reason. james was blasted and it looked like jarrod was rapidly catching up. we met up and i started to try to explain to james what just happened but he was so out of it that he was yelling as though we were still inside the club. the event was over, i assumed because james never has more than one drink when he’s working. i confirmed with jarrod who was hanging on to the last threads of sobriety left within him.
i called us a cab. we went home.
for some reason, kara showed up at 4 in the morning with running mascara and some fucked up hair. jarrod and james were locked in james’ room and my buzz was wearing off as i watched some documentary on religion on the history channel. anyways, kara invited herself in, no doubt looking to score. i obliged her but it was really nothing to write home about. she cried afterward saying something about feeling used. fucking kara. i fixed us a couple of drinks and goddamnit, before I knew it the sun was up. kara finally passed out, i showered again and fell asleep on the couch because the mere sight of kara was making me feel crummy. sleeping (trying to), drunk with the sun coming up is a fucking nightmare.
i couldn’t make this shit up if i wanted to
