Chapter Two: The Balcony

 I think 3 days had passed since I saw him last. 

Every day we talked. Every day we Facetimed. I loved each time I answered the phone there was a huge grin on the ending receiver.

It was Thursday, and I pulled up to the Storm Market. This time is was different. I did not lullagag at any booths. I did not entertain conversations that were irrelevant. I walked to who I knew I was buying from and I went to the cabanas in the back and there he was. 

Walking to him will always be something I love. He looks at me with this sexy mesmerizing grin and I melt. Melt might not be the word for it. As I walk to him, my neck grows taller, my shoulders are pushed back, my hips propped forward, and I think "heel toe, heal toe, heel toe." The runway model comes out in me and I catwalk to him. He stands up and holds me tight. He would always massage my backs, as we embraced each other I could feel him finding my stress knots and kneading through them like a purring cat. He strokes my baby hairs behind my ear and says, "Can I steal you away from all of this tonight?" 

We walked out of the market and into the noisy streets of International. I went to my car and waited for him to pull up, he guided me through streets I never been through before. Until we were in the hills, until the roads were smoother, until the lights were all working, until he found the perfect street to park my car. Out of harms way. I jumped into the little white honda, and we flew over to the taco truck. The taco truck where I would find a flirtatious cashier who always asked me who is in the car... how was such a pretty lady alone... if he could get my number... I would smile and grab the delicious tacos and mozzy on down to who was waiting in the car for me. 

I asked, "Okay, so now where are we going, mister secret agent."

"I would love to get a hotel room for us tonight," he replied.

I looked over, shocked. That he wanted to spend a night with me, that he wanted to take me right then and there, but slowly I replied, "I think that sounds like a good idea." Together we found a hotel near oakland, and we drove out to find ourselves a sweet soft spoken Front Desk manager, who swiftly checked us in. After we opened the room, him closed it and said, "Rebecca, this is not big enough. Let's go upgrade the room."

To my surprise we opened the door of the king suite of the hotel, on the top floor, in the upper right hand corner of the building. We had a couch, a kitchen, and the Balcony. We ate together, flipping through TV shows. We showered. We twisted up and went to the Balcony. I remember sparking up and putting out our blunts so he could take me right then and there. 

THIS NEXT PART WILL BE GRAPHIC AND SEXUAL

    He pulled my hair back behind my shoulders, whispered sweet nothings into my ear as he kissed and sucked on my neck. I could feel his tongue gliding down my ear, nipping at my two ear piercings, kissing down my neck. I wanted to turn and face him, but I stood weak in his arms. He lifted my arm around his neck, placed his fingers under my jaw, and turned my head to face his. In that moment I felt like Psyche, when Cupid kissed her back to life. 

    Cusped in his arms, con-caved into his body, I submitted to each kiss, each moan that exited my body beckoned him to keep going. 

    "The story of Cupid and Psyche is among the most celebrated classical myths, and a popular subject for artists in the neoclassical period. According to the story, Venus instructed Psyche to bring back a flask from the Underworld, telling her not to open it. Unable to contain her curiosity, Psyche opens the flask and the fumes send her into a death-like sleep. The sculpture depicts the moment after Cupid has awakened Psyche with a kiss. Created in 1793, the sculpture is displayed at the Musée du Louvre in Paris."  (Dawdy, 2017)

Ali, sweet moans of Ali. Bec, sweet symphonies of Bec. The balcony held all our secrets, sensations, and stories. It holds the night that we shared energies. The night that our worlds collided through secrecy and somber. I remember holding onto the railing of the balcony and looking out at the water glistening, and the moon gleamed in the water. It wasn’t as cold as it should have been but my nipples were so hard. He held me so tight and lifted me to the bed. I got on top of him and perched myself on my tippy toes and started riding him like the wild stallion he is. He gripped my hands over my head and stared at me. We laughed and smiled and kissed.

His beard tickled my face all over. His pelvis was bony and strong against mine. I never saw it coming but as I was ascending down onto him he slapped me. I looked at him and smirked. No one had ever slapped me in an intimate setting before. I probably looked so shocked but in all honestly I wanted him to do it again. He did and he held my face in his hands and lowered me on to my back and dangled my head over the bed. He began to fuck my face. Yet again something I’ve never had done. So I enjoyed every second of it. I had never been more in the moment in my life, my therapist would have been proud LMAO. Our final position of the night he positioned me, where my ass was hanging off the bed and his hands where on my neck and face. I remember holding on for dear life, and falling every so often on his feet and he’d pick me back up and start drilling into me again.