Sin...cerity
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
9,573
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
9,573
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Bump and Grind: part one
Things have just rushed on by; just 8 months ago I was contemplating suicide and or homicide and now I’m truly one of the happiest people in the world, and did I mention I’m still a virgin? You’re coming over this Saturday and I cannot even begin to even fathom my true…giddiness and just overwhelming sense of admiration. I love you. All I even wanted was true love and I got it ten fold. It’s been 2 weeks since I confessed to you and since then, we’ve been fooling around nothing ‘too’ rated XXX, just waited for the end of the day (and at times coming early) and kissing you. On Wednesday you caressed my belly and tried to go further south I smacked your hand and told you “Just wait until Saturday.” You groaned and I laughed evilly. Goodness I can’t wait for Saturday.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Bye Daddy!” I say in a much too happy tone
I managed to schedule my date with you the same day of my father’s Atlantic city weekend and my sister’s bi-monthly trips to the Bronx; so from Saturday till early morning Monday it’ll be you me and dirty little imagination. I escorted my still sober father out of the door.
“What’s gotten into you?” He says puzzled
“Nothing I just want to help is all.” I say
“Sure…” He says and walks out the door “I’ll be back around 8 am on Monday.” He says
“Ok, love you. Bye.” Ugh, I can’t believe I just wasted a perfectly good ‘I love you’ on my drunken slob of a father.
I eagerly lock the door and the clock starts:
It’s about 3 pm and you’re coming at 7:30, that’s about 4 and half hours. During our two week long make-out fest I went shopping just for the perfect outfit. I’m such a tomboy and I want to change that, so I bought a dress nothing at all fancy just a simple spaghetti strapped white cotton dress and matching pumps (matching my pedicure) I curled my hair and put lip gloss on even though I know you’ll love me all the same regardless. I’m so excited but my flat’s a mess so I clean the fuck out of it, starting with the living room I vacuum the carpet, wipe off all glass surfaces and fluff the couch pillows. I move on to the other rooms and finish at about 6:45 with my room ‘the Mecca’ of this evening.
It’s so childish…minus the Tchaikovsky and other fine art posters I have on my wall there are still the big pink pillows and flower print comforter. I go into the linen closet and bring out a classy red silken spread that my grandmother bought while in Egypt and put it onto my bed. I put on the matching pillow cases and smile at how sophisticated the room now looks, but there’s still more to be done. I go into my private drawer and pull out a box with the wrapping still on, I open it and pull out the wooden crate with about 10 multi-sized candles and some incense sticks. I lay the candles all around the room and light them and smile at the thought ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’ I go back into the living room and dim the lights and head over to the stereo and pop in a CD. It’s a shame that the most romantic thing I can find is a song called ‘Bump and Grind’ (where’s Luther Van Dross or Barry White when you need em?) I mope at the lack of music, but I cannot let that get me down.
I live to cook (and love you of course) so I move into the kitchen and put out some grapes, strawberries and kiwi; I chop the kiwi up into bite size pieces and put all the fruits on a tray and onto the glass table in the living room. I’m ready…but where are you? It’s 7:28 and I haven’t even gotten a mother fucking call…you better be on your way. I sit on the couch pretty much letting every horrible and not to mention purely imaginative vision come to mind: You getting caught in traffic and then abducted by aliens, you on a plane to Cancun because you’ve forgotten all about me and last but not to mention the WORST…you with another girl. I scream at the imaginative image of you with this stunning goddess of a woman instead of ugly ole me…I hate thinking things like that. But then I hear the door bell ring and all bad thoughts are forgotten but panic sets in. ‘My hair! My dress! My ears?! I’m not ready…’ I think frantically just standing in front of the door afraid to touch the knob… and then it dawns… ‘I’m about to lose my virginity.’ And I smile “About fucking time.” I say out loud and open the door.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Bye Daddy!” I say in a much too happy tone
I managed to schedule my date with you the same day of my father’s Atlantic city weekend and my sister’s bi-monthly trips to the Bronx; so from Saturday till early morning Monday it’ll be you me and dirty little imagination. I escorted my still sober father out of the door.
“What’s gotten into you?” He says puzzled
“Nothing I just want to help is all.” I say
“Sure…” He says and walks out the door “I’ll be back around 8 am on Monday.” He says
“Ok, love you. Bye.” Ugh, I can’t believe I just wasted a perfectly good ‘I love you’ on my drunken slob of a father.
I eagerly lock the door and the clock starts:
It’s about 3 pm and you’re coming at 7:30, that’s about 4 and half hours. During our two week long make-out fest I went shopping just for the perfect outfit. I’m such a tomboy and I want to change that, so I bought a dress nothing at all fancy just a simple spaghetti strapped white cotton dress and matching pumps (matching my pedicure) I curled my hair and put lip gloss on even though I know you’ll love me all the same regardless. I’m so excited but my flat’s a mess so I clean the fuck out of it, starting with the living room I vacuum the carpet, wipe off all glass surfaces and fluff the couch pillows. I move on to the other rooms and finish at about 6:45 with my room ‘the Mecca’ of this evening.
It’s so childish…minus the Tchaikovsky and other fine art posters I have on my wall there are still the big pink pillows and flower print comforter. I go into the linen closet and bring out a classy red silken spread that my grandmother bought while in Egypt and put it onto my bed. I put on the matching pillow cases and smile at how sophisticated the room now looks, but there’s still more to be done. I go into my private drawer and pull out a box with the wrapping still on, I open it and pull out the wooden crate with about 10 multi-sized candles and some incense sticks. I lay the candles all around the room and light them and smile at the thought ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’ I go back into the living room and dim the lights and head over to the stereo and pop in a CD. It’s a shame that the most romantic thing I can find is a song called ‘Bump and Grind’ (where’s Luther Van Dross or Barry White when you need em?) I mope at the lack of music, but I cannot let that get me down.
I live to cook (and love you of course) so I move into the kitchen and put out some grapes, strawberries and kiwi; I chop the kiwi up into bite size pieces and put all the fruits on a tray and onto the glass table in the living room. I’m ready…but where are you? It’s 7:28 and I haven’t even gotten a mother fucking call…you better be on your way. I sit on the couch pretty much letting every horrible and not to mention purely imaginative vision come to mind: You getting caught in traffic and then abducted by aliens, you on a plane to Cancun because you’ve forgotten all about me and last but not to mention the WORST…you with another girl. I scream at the imaginative image of you with this stunning goddess of a woman instead of ugly ole me…I hate thinking things like that. But then I hear the door bell ring and all bad thoughts are forgotten but panic sets in. ‘My hair! My dress! My ears?! I’m not ready…’ I think frantically just standing in front of the door afraid to touch the knob… and then it dawns… ‘I’m about to lose my virginity.’ And I smile “About fucking time.” I say out loud and open the door.