By Jim Parks
She call herself staying in a holiday hotel any time we go there, that girl. She couldn't get enough of laying in the bed and screwing, not like on the bayou where the damn kids and her mama keep things in a, how you call, uproar.
We won our first trip in a contest, something that come in the mail. She saw the pictures of the fountains and the big neon lights and we had to go. Airplane, rent car, everything in the damn world. So we go. Las Vegas.
Clarice go crazy for thowing dice and pull those damn handle on those damn machines - five, six at a time like the rest of the women. All the colored lights and bells going off. She got so excited she damn near wet her pants. In fact, her pants were wet when she dragged me to the elevator and made me go to the room. She jerked my belt loose and tore my britches down by my knees, fell down on hers and took me in her mouth working on me like never before. I told her to hold on, don't go so fast. We got to work together.
When she got herself naked, I saw what she had been doing in the beauty salon downstairs. Her pussy was - how you call - waxed. It was a smooth as can be, not a hair on it. She grab my head and grind it into her. She fuck my mouth and my nose, cussing me in French. She call me a dirty whore dog and a form of how you call sissy in French. She slap the top of my head and tell me I can't fuck worth shit, I might as well eat pussy like a damn lesbian.
That's when I came unglued. I fucked her - hard, hard as ever. She beg me to put it in her asshole and she screamed at me that I ain't nothin' but a damn faggot, I might as well fuck like one. I didn't let up. I gave what she wanted. She was asking for it. She claw the sheets off the bed, man. She holler my name and she wet the damn mattress. It was a good thing we had two king-size beds in that room. We use one for her to come, one for sleeping.
Then she got on the phone and order sea food - lobster, oysters on half shell, seafood gumbo and stuffed flounder. They bring it up on a little cart, two nigger boys in white jackets. Cost plenty. We feed the whole family for a week on that much in Bayou Bleu. She made a hog out of herself.
Then she cuss me again. She get up and slap my face while I try to watch the ball game. She make me spank her fine ass and she promise to be good.
I fucked again, this time harder. She got drunk on that scotch she drink and passed out. I went back downstairs to shoot dice, and when I come back to the room, she had broken the mirror. She throw a glass at it.
One of those little sign they have on the wall to show folks where they at and where the emergency stairs are located? She write on it in lipstick, "Y'all here, cher!"
She act a damn fool like that for three days, then we fly home to Louisiana.
Funny thing. We never drive that car, no, hell, no. Not more than ten, fifteen miles back and forth to the airport. But it was worth it.
Driving down that street with all them bright lights, she put my hand between her legs in those tight slacks she bought and grind real hard. She act like she sixteen again.
Ooh, la! I recommend. It all make her too much hot.
That's where Ti Jean come from,yeah.
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Saturday, June 27, 2009
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