Motorcyle boy - fini

The first time I saw you – the second time around – you pulled up in your motorcycle – the fzr, i believe. Immediately my heart lept off of that balcony and into your hands. I so wish now I would have followed. We went for that short bikeride – and it was that same feeling trying to pull my body from yours – the exact definition of viscosity. We belonged together, DAMNIT.

You felt it too. I remember the day I made the worst mistake in the world. I was drunk, angry at myself for cheating on Jonah, and on the phone with you, balling my eyes out in a cab on my way home to him. You promised it wouldn't be that way with us. You promised me we would be bettter, stronger, happier, kinkier, more fufilled! You got in a different cab, a whole continent away, ready to search out a diamond ring for me, because that's what you thought I wanted. You offered me everything, and in return I broke your heart.

That was the first time – how I wish it were the last.

Time went on. Nofan and I were entrenched. We shared pets, talked abiut getting married, bought a house together, talked about the future. But it was always dependent on something else I had to do, First it was loose weight, then it was get HOTTER, then it was more success in my job, then I had to convert to Judaism...
I said my little FUCKYOUs privately. A blowjob for GH here, a threesome with Talker and her boyfriend, Donkeydick there... And every once in a while we would be together- but not too often – I didn't want to torture myself too much with what SHOULD have been.

Remember the day nofan came to your house to pick me up, fresh from a pseudodate with Crazy? He suggested we try an open relationship. I think you could hear the sounds of both of our jaws hitting the floor, then our hearts beating out of our chests. I don't think we could contain our joy. We could finally fuck, unfettered with hurting anyones feelings..

But he didn't really mean it that way, did he? What really happened was I gave him carte blanche to flirt and fuck anyone who would have him, but he withheld his approval – saying he didn't trust you to keep your heart and soul out of it..

Smart boy, that one.

So the days ground on. I became more and more bitter. I lost more and more of myself to his shallow success-driven ways. The first time you called me on it was at Talker's party. I don't know what possesed me to say what I did- no wait, that's a lie.

“We showed up fashionably late so all the dorks will have left,” I lilted, repeating verbatim what he had said to me in the car on the way over moments earlier.

You were right, Soulmate. The girl you fell in love with was not judgemental and rude and recognized the good in everyone. She wasn't better or snootier or anything like I acted that day. You were determined to respect my wishes to be with nofan – even telling me when I was treating him like shit. We even stopped fucking. Imagine that.

You still spoke of me as your soulmate though – to everyone. Even your new girlfriend, Mouse. We all tried to play nice, but it just didn't work out now, did it.
The final straw was the night Crazy and Mouse and I went out for a girls night out dinner. Much booze was consumed and I can only forensically piece together the details to reconstruct the crime scene. Girls night out had ended at the Naked Fish, drinking many fruity drinks. Crazy and I were sloshed – no doubt on many more drinks than Mouse required to lower her inhibitions.

You know what? Right now the anger I feel that you let the retold and re quoted conversation come between you and your soulmate. I swear it was like that game telephone, back in grade school – you told Tom who told Jeff who told Julie who told Laura, and all the sudden the rumour mill had completely changed the secret.

Your name came up in conversation. Crazy laughed and said “Erica, isn't that the guy who calls himself your soulmate?” Rumour has it I said yes, and laughed. I don't know just what was said, i just know how much it broke my heart when you confronted me with it. You told me this was final evidence that the old erica you fell in love with was gone, and you didn't care at all for the new one.

I was blindingly angry.
At Mouse, for retelling the story in the first place. But could I really blame her? Imagine, being in love with a man who refers to someone else as his soulmate.
At you, for those terrible things you said. I know for sure only the ones you love the most can hurt you with the most venom. You told me I became shallow, self absorbed, and you didn't even want to be my friend anymore, let alone my soulmate. You said you liked me better when I was fat and happy.
At myself for ever coming so far from who I want to be (and who I used to be) to say such a horrible and hateful thing...

That was pretty much the last time we spoke.
I think our lives may be going down parallel shitholes right now.

I wonder if its that viscous shit that connects our souls. I wrote before about the news I've gotten – you, out on the streets, on dope again. I don't know the details, just that Mouse couldn't keep you afloat and you started dealing bigtime and using again. I know you got caught, but somehow got out. We even spoke briefly - a few weeks ago.

I now know at the beginning of this week, while i slept off a 40 hour xanex induced fog, you were apprehended trying to pawn some shit you shoplifted from circuit city for pennies on the dollar, no doubt to buy more drugs.

You didn't want to be caught, so you rammed the police officer with your rental car as he tried to stop you from leaving the pawn shop parkinglot.

The newsclip showed the stoic officer, neck brace in place being lifted to the waiting ambulance. His wedding ring glinted on his left finger.

Then it cut to your mugshot. Wanted. Fucked. I've never felt such shock and despair.

I don't know if they have caught you yet. I have this horrible feeling you won't let them. I'm deathly afraid you'll take your own life. I'm scared shitless you'll never know how much I really do love you... how much I kick myself daily, wondering if we had just followed all those fucking neon signs and beacons – the ones that said YOU BELONG TOGETHER

could I have saved you? Would this all be different? Would you have saved me?

I will never forget what we had and will always remember our bond. Please make it through this. I love you. Please forgive me for the mistakes I've made, and I wish it could have been different. But please realize the man I fell in love with – my soulmate – would never have put himself in such a position. I think the erica you fell in love with is back.

But you – this – is not the soulmate I fell for. I suppose with LOTS of time we might find each other again – but I think the odds are against us. You will undoubtedly be in jail for a very long time and I am not a patient person.

My love for you will never die. But I can't wait for you.

SMC forever,
~e

Motorcycle boy, part II

You should probably ready part I first, if you haven't.



Our first night on E proved so wonderful we just had to do it again. Two pills each, two intertwined souls and a Tuesday night to share.
We talked of so many things. Your girlfriend. We really weren't very good to her, were we? She put up with so much for you. And in the end, she couldn't even save you, could she? Could I?
She waited for you while you spent that year in prison, slowly kicking the addiction. She deserved much more for how she kept you on the straight and narrow. As much as you bitched about her pissy stuck up ways, damnit, Soulmate, she was what you needed.
Remember the day you were leaving, headed down to DC and her, and you had to stop by my place to see me 'just one more time?' before you went away for the weekend? We both knew right then and there. You know, the whole soulmate shit. Tearing my body away from yours to send you on your way that night felt like swimming upstream against molasses.
But you owed her more than that. Even though you couldn't shut your mouth, could you? You made casual conversation about me.. telling her about the sticker I had on my car, or the funny joke I'd just told you.
Of course she knew. Who better to recognize a new love than the old one? She called you on it. You confessed our affair and somehow worked an arrangement with her to stay together. You owed her. You were right. I couldn't blame you.
It was easier not to talk. Talking only reminded us of how we got along. Those times when we'd talk we'd usually end up sneaking out of work for “LUNCH” - ravenous starving sensualities melding, sometimes before we even made it to my truck during our parkinglot rendez-vous.
The times between when you were behaving... Every loud muffler that went down my street perked my ears – wishing it was your bike arriving at my front door.
Remember my lunch hour of pleasure for my birthday? I wasn't kidding when I crowned you oral sex champion of the world. You know I think of you everytime someone sings the fucking birthday song. And I can't tell you how many times I've sly smiled, thinking of you as I hum someone a happy birthday with their cock down my throat or clit in my teeth.
Remember our crazy trip to San Fran? You were there for work and somehow I finagled a few extra days out of my business trip to hang out. We even talked GH into flying out to visit – bag of nuggs taped securely to his ballbag.. We smoked that hotel room out! The night we all went to that tranny bar will always be one of my most amusing memories. Watching GH play junglegym/dance partner to the two hottest Asian trannies in the place was a close second to being questioned about solicitation while i stood on the corner waiting for you to return from trying to strike a deal with that hooker to come back to our hotel room and do dirty things with us. I should have known when all the girls in tight skirts ducked behind cars and slunk away as the cop car pulled up to me...
I didn't get booked, GH didn't kiss a tranny (even a passable one) and you never did convince that whore to come back to the hotel with us... but I still remember that ride back, laying on your shoulder in the back of the cab.
That trip wasn't all fun and magic you know. The worst was watching your face and whole demeanor change when your girlfriend called. You would instantly stop any fun you might be having, and tensions would mount. You'd frown and I'd stop touching you.
I hated that. I decided then and there that what we were doing was not right, and couldn't continue. You went back to her and I thought we were through.
I met nofan. I thought I could turn him into your replacement. I thought I could be the perfect stepford wife – in love- with this man I couldn't stand half of the time and couldn't believe would choose me the other half. And things went relatively well.
I heard through the grapevine that you had broken up with Elise. I'll admit, there was a lot of whistfullness on my part. I wanted to find you – find out what we could be... Except I already knew what I was with nofan...

Our first night on E proved so wonderful we just had to do it again. Two pills each, two intertwined souls and a Tuesday night to share.
We talked of so many things. Your girlfriend. We really weren't very good to her, were we? She put up with so much for you. And in the end, she couldn't even save you, could she? Could I?
She waited for you while you spent that year in prison, slowly kicking the addiction. She deserved much more for how she kept you on the straight and narrow. As much as you bitched about her pissy stuck up ways, damnit, Soulmate, she was what you needed.
Remember the day you were leaving, headed down to DC and her, and you had to stop by my place to see me 'just one more time?' before you went away for the weekend? We both knew right then and there. You know, the whole soulmate shit. Tearing my body away from yours to send you on your way that night felt like swimming upstream against molasses.
But you owed her more than that. Even though you couldn't shut your mouth, could you? You made casual conversation about me.. telling her about the sticker I had on my car, or the funny joke I'd just told you.
Of course she knew. Who better to recognize a new love than the old one? She called you on it. You confessed our affair and somehow worked an arrangement with her to stay together. You owed her. You were right. I couldn't blame you.
It was easier not to talk. Talking only reminded us of how we got along. Those times when we'd talk we'd usually end up sneaking out of work for “LUNCH” - ravenous starving sensualities melding, sometimes before we even made it to my truck during our parkinglot rendez-vous.
The times between when you were behaving... Every loud muffler that went down my street perked my ears – wishing it was your bike arriving at my front door.
Remember my lunch hour of pleasure for my birthday? I wasn't kidding when I crowned you oral sex champion of the world. You know I think of you everytime someone sings the fucking birthday song. And I can't tell you how many times I've sly smiled, thinking of you as I hum someone a happy birthday with their cock down my throat or clit in my teeth.
Remember our crazy trip to San Fran? You were there for work and somehow I finagled a few extra days out of my business trip to hang out. We even talked GH into flying out to visit – bag of nuggs taped securely to his ballbag.. We smoked that hotel room out! The night we all went to that tranny bar will always be one of my most amusing memories. Watching GH play junglegym/dance partner to the two hottest Asian trannies in the place was a close second to being questioned about solicitation while i stood on the corner waiting for you to return from trying to strike a deal with that hooker to come back to our hotel room and do dirty things with us. I should have known when all the girls in tight skirts ducked behind cars and slunk away as the cop car pulled up to me...
I didn't get booked, GH didn't kiss a tranny (even a passable one) and you never did convince that whore to come back to the hotel with us... but I still remember that ride back, laying on your shoulder in the back of the cab.
That trip wasn't all fun and magic you know. The worst was watching your face and whole demeanor change when your girlfriend called. You would instantly stop any fun you might be having, and tensions would mount. You'd frown and I'd stop touching you.
I hated that. I decided then and there that what we were doing was not right, and couldn't continue. You went back to her and I thought we were through.
I met nofan. I thought I could turn him into your replacement. I thought I could be the perfect stepford wife – in love- with this man I couldn't stand half of the time and couldn't believe would choose me the other half. And things went relatively well.
I heard through the grapevine that you had broken up with Elise. I'll admit, there was a lot of whistfullness on my part. I wanted to find you – find out what we could be... Except I already knew what I was with nofan...

motorcycle boy, part I

3/31/05 12:28 am

I lay here, silently sobbing in the darkness. I just spent the better part of half an hour futily trying to coax a cum from my frustrated loins.
The vibrator whirred away, slammed up my slick slit, base gripped between taut thighs while i writhed and bucked, trying to grind that sensation further in me.
I thought of you. I thought of your little crooked smile and those always mischievous eyes.
Remember the second time we hung out? Your girlfriend was still in DC. We'd felt the pull already – the strings that connected your soul to mine had already started to make themselves known. How is that possible after only spending two nights together, I'm sure my readers are asking. Stupid fools, they just haven't yet found their soulmate. Or maybe I'm the stupid fool – as I've lost you.
The second night we spent together was on ecstasy. Neither of us had tried it before, so tonight we had two pills each and a whole Monday night to share. We fed those pills to each other, giggling at the novelty of it all and reveling in the comfort we felt together.
I remember writhing all over that bed with you, breaking only for water. Our bodies, chemically enhanced felt even BETTER when they touched. All I could manage was to repeat over and over

oh
my
god!


Flesh on flesh, tongue on flesh, hands on sheets, mouths on bodies, cock filling throat, pussy grinding on knees, melting feelings thoughts and
brains...consciences...
We melted. We should have known right there. Remember asking me “did you just say oh my god with my cock in your mouth?”
Yes soulmate. I did. Your cock fit my mouth perfectly and tasted so sweet. I remember wrapping my mouth around it and just floating in each millimeter of my tongue and lips contacting your sweet skin... I can't even begin to explain the feeling. But I don't have to, do I? This is for you, and you know exactly what I'm talking about.
Or do you? Do you remember after all this time? Do you remember after the months you've spent on the hard drugs, stealing electronics and pawning them for dope? Do you ever think of me?

I think of you...

I'm all right...

don't you worry about me.

I have a months worth of invoicing out for payment. Allegedly I have another months worth of bills on the way in the form of one more insurance check (fire) and after that I'm bidding on a contract that will cover another month, which i'm almost guaranteed to get.
Of course these will be a living small and sparce months... but the basics (rent, electic, tupid cable, internet, food, mobile) are covered.

And to cover my ass I start work at a chain restaraunt tomorrow. Guess what, I could be serving your dinner, and you'd never know. When dining in NH look out for the waitress named erica. ;)

The next few entries are all about motorcyle boy. Deal.