Menopausal C****

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One of the better albeit not so evidence-backed test that a new relationship has potential to last is the meeting before meeting the parents. Meeting the friends. I was already on good terms with He Who Shall Not Be Named a.k.a Ahly’s ex-boyfriend\beat bunny, so I figured I was half in. To break the ice and make me comfortable Michael suggested I bring a couple friends to a gathering one of his friends was hosting. And by hosting I mean he had free space in his artsy loft that could account for a ton of people.

I wanted to drag all my friends to this party but only Janet and Stanley could come. On the way there I thought of Mark and texted him and when I got there he still hadn’t replied. I figured he was out busy but didn’t think too much of it.

“Hey!” I waved at Michael when I spotted him.

“Oh shit, I forgot he was cute,” Janet mumbled.

“Oh my God, like so cute!” Stanley piped in.

Janet slapped him on his chest. “Shut up and get us some drinks will ya?”

“Well, only because you said ‘please’,” he grinned at his own joke and winked at me. I giggled and stopped short when I felt a hand slide around my waist.

“Hey baby,” Michael whispered into my ear.

“Hi…” I grabbed the back of his neck as he kissed mine through my hair. When I turned around he pushed back the hair from my face and gave me a long kiss. We were that annoying couple for a moment that pushed Janet to clear her throat suggestively.

“Oh, Michael you remember Janet,” I said, wiping my lips.

“Of course, how could I forgot?”

“And her husband?” I gestured to Stanley who was holding a couple of beers. He will never learn that I don’t like beer, so I gave mine to Michael.

“Oh. That I did forget,” Michael said, unapologetically.

Stanley narrowed his eyes slightly. “That’s fine.”

Awkward. I think it was completely overlooked by Michael because he just kept getting handsy with me without a care in the world.

Later on in the night Janet, Stanley, Michael and I were chatting to a few of Michael’s friends, one of which was Brandon, a guy I regularly see attached to Michael whenever I saw them at the office. Brandon was definitely the heavy drinker, clearly with a high tolerance, he kept boasting about how it was his seventh beer and he wasn’t feeling a thing. I’m not sure if that’s an Olympic sport but apparently he’s super proud for some reason.

“…can you believe these marches that are happening? All because some people hate Donald Trump. A bunch of pussies if you ask me,” Brandon laughed.

“Nobody’s asking you, dude,” his friend laughed with him.

“Fuck off! Seriously, like why are we protesting anything anymore? World’s fucked as it is without a bunch of menopausal cunts holding signs on the street.”

“Well that’s a disturbingly vivid image,” I said.

“Exactly,” Brandon pointed.

“I meant it’s disturbing that that’s the only image you seem to have.”

Janet snickered. “You can say that again.”

“This is always what happens when politics get throw into the conversation. Don’t listen to Brandon he just likes to ruffle a few feathers.”

“As I recall, someone else likes to fuck with people, too,” Brandon eyed Michael.

“Yeah, I barely do it with politics.”

Brandon harrumphed and took a swig. “Did you go—” he pointed at Janet— “being that you’re black and all?”

“Ummm…” Janet responded.

“Hey man,” Stanley warned.

Michael dropped his arm from around my shoulder as we felt the intensity of the atmosphere grow threateningly dangerous.

“I think you had enough to drink, man,” Brandon’s friend said, laying a hand on Brandon’s shoulder.

Brandon pushed it away without taking his eyes off of Stanley. “Let me ask you something—” he leaned in and smirked— “do you gotta put on a night light on to see what orifice is where when you get down and dirty?”

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Work It!…Or Not.

“Oh God! Oh God! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” I shrieked those last words, on the brink of an electric orgasm.

“I won’t until you—”

I screamed and craned my neck upwards, my head imbedding deeply into the pillow. “Daniel!” I dug my fingernails into his back. My eyes shut tight, my head light, my legs wrapped around him and pulling him even closer, my toes curling.

As I was coming down from my high from the intense sex, Daniel ran specks of kisses along my neck. I love it when he does that after I come. It just reminds me of how attentive and loving he is. Granted, some days we have sex like jack rabbits, other days, we make love, slow and vanilla. Twenty-four-seven, we’re in love, and it just heightens the emotions and intensifies the orgasms of those other days.

Daniel sighed and rolled onto his back, exhaling a string of air. “I’m beat. Sex in the shower. Sex after the shower. How are we not tired?”

I laughed. “Maybe because it’s the weekend.”

“Even so.”

“I love the way you love me,” I snuggled in closer.

Daniel curled his arm around me. “You give amazing head.”

I burst out laughing and bit his rib cage. He flinched at my sharp touch and I planted a kiss in response.

“I better get ready,” Daniel finally said after we lay in silence. I was just about to slip into a slumber and I thought he was too when he broke the silence.

“No,” I squeezed him closer, “don’t go.”

“I have to. The sooner the better. It’s like ripping off a band-aid.” Daniel threw the blanket over and hopped out of bed.

“What do you expect out of meeting with Richard?” I followed him into the bathroom and grabbed for the toothbrush and paste. “I honestly feel like nothing good is going to come of it. I mean, you’ve told him a million times to back off, he obviously isn’t getting the picture. He keeps getting his way.”

“Yeah, and now he’s coming after you, Anna.” Daniel raised his voice, much louder and annoyed, above the crash of the water from the shower head. “It was alright when he was aggravating me, but now you? I can’t. He can’t. It makes my skin crawl knowing he’s manipulating you like this. Like he’s found my weakness.”

I’m his weakness? “I’m just worried about you.”

“So come with me.”

I furrowed my brows and halted the toothbrush in my mouth, all white foam and saliva. I opened the shower doors. “What did you say?”

He was in the middle of washing his hair. For the second time today. “Come with me.”

I laughed. “Are you crazy?”

“What?” he shrugged as I spat out the toothpaste in the sink and rinsed out my mouth to return to Daniel.

“Come with you? He’d go spastic.”

“He never said you weren’t allowed to come. Look, you said so yourself, all the times I’ve ever told him to back-off it hasn’t worked. All those times I was alone. Without you. Maybe it’s time for a change of tactics. If we put on a united front, maybe this time he’ll get the picture.”

“I don’t know…”

“I think I know what will help you decide fast.”

“What?”

“Get your cute butt in here!” He lunged forward for my arms and pulled me into the shower. I yelped as I hopped in, thankful that I wasn’t wearing anything that would get wet.

I squeezed the water out of his brown hair, now dark brown-almost black. I kissed his neck. And he massaged the soap around my body, bringing his hands to my thighs and lifting one leg, to hang over his leg jutted out as a rest for mine. He squeezed my breast, bringing his hand down past my stomach, inserting two fingers inside of me. Playing me like the trumpet he did so well on my birthday, and bringing me to my second orgasm of the night.

***

I was fidgeting with the hem of my little black dress as we rode in the cab. It wasn’t a formal evening, nor was it casual. Daniel and I were going out to dinner later on in the night, expecting this one with Richard to be short and sweet and as painless as possible. All I wanted was a large pizza with about a litre’s worth of diazepam to calm my nerves. I never take it unless I’m in flight, but this situation seemed like the perfect time to take one. And that, kids, is probably how addiction starts, or would start with me. Stay away, Anna!

“It’s okay,” Daniel said, placing a hand on mine to cease my frantic movements. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just, well…”

“What?”

Well, I never knew exactly what goes on with Daniel and Richard’s father and son talks. What if it’s another mention of Tanya? What if it’s a mention of Jade? I’d ball my eyes out, I don’t even know what Daniel would do. What if it’s another offer Daniel can’t refuse? What if it’s about me…again?

I picked one problem out of the lot and threw it at Daniel. “I’m just nervous it’s about me again.”

“Just forget about whatever he says. He doesn’t matter and he doesn’t need to matter. He’s not important nor are his words.”

“But my job—”

“I’ll take care of it. Besides, if worse comes to worse, you can always quit.”

I shuddered at the seemingly simple and easy thought. “Umm…I love my job, though.”

“I know, babe. But I’m sure there are plenty more like it out there. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be working forever.”

“Yeah, I mean, when I retire I guess I’d stop.” I uttered the words confusedly, assuming that’s where he was going.

“No, I mean, when I get my inheritance.”

“Oh.”

“I mean,” he shrugged, seemingly confused, assuming we were on the same page, “I’ll be taking care of you.”

“You expect me to stop working?”

“Yeah, well, no, but, I thought so. Look, I’m not trying to take you back to the 50s. I just thought that, once I have all that money, you wouldn’t need to work.”

“I wouldn’t need to, but I’d want to.”

“Oh come on,” he said confidently, “you mean to tell me you’d volunteer yourself even though I have all that money?”

“It’s what I’ve been working towards my whole life. What kind of person would I be if I just stopped to live off of your money?”

Our money,” he corrected, taking my hand in his and onto his lap.

“And what about writing my novel? Having a career in writing novels?” That non-existent one that I’m too scared to make happen.

He shrugged and smiled. “So we’ll buy an agent for you. Easy-peasy.”

Buy an agent? Buy my way into a privileged life? That’s not who I am. Granted, things will be a lot easier, and I won’t know if I’ll quit or not in three years’ time—it all depends on where I’d be then—but to even think about it now was harrowing to me. Mind-boggling. Does Daniel really expect me to just stop my life and live off of his money? And despite what he says, when it comes down to it it is his money.

“I want to earn my way to the top,” I mumbled, “not buy my place.”

“I guess you think low of me for using my family name to get a quick high-paying job.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. And that’s totally different, that was for your mother.”

“In three years’ time, you’d have to at least be an editor-in-chief-slash-editor. A senior position. What’s the point of continuing that position if I’ve got all the money to last us three lifetimes?”

“Well,” I held my shoulders up and then dropped them once I found the words, “what’s the point of me working towards it now? Why don’t I just quit while I’m ahead and take a job at Sephora?”

“Oh come on.”

“You come on,” I nudged him. “Is this the future you really see us in?”

“I see myself making your life easier,” he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “If that includes quitting your job, living off of our money, being free of the societal acceptable slave labour we live in to dress in clothes we buy for work, driving through traffic in a car that—if owned—we are still paying for in order to get to the job that we need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the apartments we leave vacant all day so we can afford to live in it, then yes. A deviation from all that seems like a good life despite how we got there.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You sound like you got that from somewhere.”

“I did. A part of it.”

A moment was spent to ourselves before I spoke. “What are you going to do with the money? Should I expect you to sit around all day, too?”

“Maybe, only at first.”

“And then?”

He sighed. “And then I’d start my own company, in a field I love to avoid hating it.”

“See, you wouldn’t even stop working.”

“I’d be my own boss. It’s different.”

“And then?”

The cab stopped before the restaurant. “And then I’d hire a hitman for my father.”

***

The Latina hostess with short, brunette, curly hair was dressed in a low cut, deep V, black dress. Trumping my own. I shook off my envy as she smiled through dark lips and pearly whites before turning to lead us to our tables.

“The other members of your party have arrived,” she informed us.

I nodded, shaken by nerves and Daniel’s words in the cab still on my mind. It was Daniel that picked up on her words. “I’m sorry, other members?”

“Yes.”

“As in plural?”

Latina chuckled. “Yes.” She held out a slender hand as we stood a few feet away from the table.

My heart began to gallop as soon as that other person and I locked confused, widened eyes.

***Hi, just wanted to say thanks to those who have bought a copy of ‘In Dante’s Inferno…’, I appreciate it and hope you’re enjoying, or have enjoyed, it. Oh, and it’s also CaliforniaSoulBlog’s two year anniversary, which means it’s an anniversary for you just as much as me! Thanks for reading! Hope you’ve enjoyed this post, now I better get some sleep because I have a super-early start! See you next week! P.S. Hope you’ve enjoyed the last post of Samson&Delilah and thank you for reading, I love the ending! Soul xo***