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| L & L |
Relationships are about coffee, you know, going out and enjoying something together. Relationships are about talking, you know, on the phone till morning light appears. Relationships are about support, you known letting the tshirt you are wearing be the tissue she wipes her tears with. Relationship are about trust, she lies on your chest and open her heart, her secrets and her deepest fears. Relationships are about hugs that last longer than usual, relationship gives more work to your lips more than usual. But most of all relationships are about breakfast. And you know technology has concurred all, and long distance relationships are as easy as downloading music, but even with the lengths it has gone to bring us closer. Breakfast cannot happen. There is no technology about breakfast.
I make breakfast perfectly, I do things to bread, toast, put it in the microwave, with margarine on so that it melts and it gets that aroma out from the kitchen to the bedroom where she sleeps. Technology has gone as far as three dimension everything... Now we wear shades in cinemas, in the dark like we are all rappers. But you see, breakfast is the important meal for every relationship. It is the night after...
You could say you do it during the day, but let me tell you, you are not in a relationship until sunrise catches you with your pants down together in the morning. And everyone wakes up hungry, if you did things well that night.
As I said, breakfast is my thing. I am very particular on how I serve breakfast. The fruits must be chilled, the juice must be cold, the coffee must be a temperature higher than the toast, the toast must appetite with its aroma. The ham must be cold, to contrast with the bread. The serials must be sank in cold milk so that they are crunchy and warm to the heart.
I must serve breakfast, cause after last night... Oh she deserves it.
And as she lay their on my bed. You might think it is the sun that hits her skin and makes her feel warm and awake. But it's not the sun she slept with so I must make her feel warmer than the sun, I must make the sun jealous of me having her. So I will not call her, I will let what am doing in the kitchen call her, the aroma of sausages and becon. And she will enjoy the sun rays touching her as she lies on the bed, but even more she will thirst in curiosity with what am making for breakfast. Right there at that moment, she will love where I placed my bed in the room, over looking the window and the sun rays, but even though she loves it. She will leave for the kitchen cause that's where I will be, the sun might touch her skin and make her feel warm, but I touch her heart and make it feel warm. Dames and sirs, what woman want her skin touched till it's warm before her heart is touched till it's warm? No tell me.
I think morning, breakfast defines every relationship. And long distance doesn't let breakfast happen. Yes, she can send me photos of cups of coffee from Domans, and I can send her photos cups of coffee from Coffe hut. But in the end I still feel I thirst for breakfast, what comes before and what comes after it. That way I can see her eyes and other things too. And it is always better in person than over a screen. Breakfast.
Yesterday a girl was here. She was in a pink fluffy dress cause she is a friend and she didn't come to seduce. Wait... Did she come to seduce? She is not beautiful at first glance but she is plainly nice. Shaggable. But the kind you wouldn't bother to do.
She walked in, we didn't hug tight cause as I said, we are friends and am in a relationship, especially... am in a relationship.
I didn't bother to keep up with the conversation. And now I can say this... It is nice to find love.
Cause when you are in a relationship everything becomes easy. You don't try too hard, wait... You don't try at all to impress anyone. And am learning that that sometimes is actually more impressive and thoroughly attractive than trying to impress.
We looked at the screen, I made her a burger, I hope she eats pork, cause she ate pork. Don't ask, don't tell. It was the only meat I had in my fridge.
She enjoyed it thoroughly, I flipped channels. She was the one that talked more. It feels good not to care.
Then she stood up. Did I tell you I have been having breakfast alone for a while now. You know long distance, you talk, you love but no action.
Had she ached her ass or was it that big. I told you dames and sirs that her dress was pink and fluffy. But somewhere underneath it was something big and very attractive. I noticed. And wondered. I almost banged her in my head right there. But you know love. It sort of makes you be decent like love is.
She took the plates and the glasses we had used to the kitchen. It was a polite gesture. She came back and that is when I noticed her bosom.
Big, full and as soft as velvet. Clear and flawless not shiny. The kind you can tell how it would feels to touch even before you touch. The kind that will not disappoint you when you touched, it will meet you expectations and show them dust.
She sat down. She giggled. She laughed. She covered her face. She laughed some more. She giggled. She hid her face in her hands. She hid her eyes with her hair. But I could tell she was looking at me. Sometimes looking at the floor smiling, though I knew she was looking at me with her mind.
"Will you see me off?"
"No."
Yes, I told her a flat no, not that am not a gentleman. She wasn't my girlfriend, so I didn't feel obliged. Yes, I know it is good manners to see a visitor off, but I did not.
My door is not electric automatic or anything. But it as well could be, and also could have a thousand buttons on it. Yes, it is plain but it is as complicated as a door with a thousand buttons.
I watched her try to adjust the latches. Yes am a gentleman, and gentlemen are supposed to help women with the door. But I sat down on my sofa, not watching the Telly which was facing me but watching her view.
"Com' on please help me..."
"how do you open this door?"
I just sat there wearing my smile the way I know best. Yes, dames and sirs, it was a natural cheeky smile. And yes, I knew she would have a problem opening it.
She went for the latch at the bottom of the door. And I felt like she went down on me. She stood up frustrated that it hadn't done what she wanted it to do. As in burst open. Yes, am talking about the door. But it didn't burst open. She tip toed and tried the latch at the top. And I don't know why that looked so hot. Sirs, why does it look so awesome when a dame tries to reach out for something from a high place.
She continued the process. Down, up, down up. I died when she threw her arm in frustrations. Things shook. Her bosom was out of her dress. That's how they design those dresses nowadays. Oh thank you designers! Thank you so much.
She jumped up and down in frustration, no not like Maasai do. Come on, you must have seen it. The little jump chics make that makes them shake all over so nicely. Yes, the one they make when you say...
"but this club is nice, or this restaurant is nice... We don't need to go."
And she says...
"but I want to go, but I want to go..."
And she is holding your hand and yes, jumping almost begging you.
She did that jump ladies and sirs, and I felt nice. I felt nice. No its not an error. Let me repeat it again. She did that jump, and i felt really nice. I kept my distance. I wasn't going to help her with the door, cause first of all. Thirty minutes or more, or less of pleasure verses my relationship? I would rather have my relationship. Besides, my not being able to have breakfast, rather, what happens before breakfast- has been quite a while I think I would pull out such a short performance she might wonder what the hell?
There I am, finding my way. There... It's there... And now am sliding in... It widens... I can see she likes to feel herself separate... You know the way yogurt in a glass separates to let in a banana. Inch after inch until it's inside.
And I will be on her neck... The side of her neck... My lips on her ear... Whispering words, words that wet like writers words do... And she will widen up to let me in... And the excitement will make her warm. And with the first thrust, the first pump. I will fill it up like an immature person on the phone. Fast like a sudden end to a short, short phone call.
Dialing tone.
"What? Did you just cum! You haven't even..."
I miss the happenings before breakfast. Yes dames and sirs, the girl finally open the door and left.
That's love for you, and long distance. Blue balls and no breakfast. The irony is my favorite color is blue. Okay, maybe not exactly am not decided on that, but I can sincerely say I like blue. And it's no coincidence that I love my girlfriend. And this long distance nonsense even though it keeps my balls blue. Yes, blue is the color of numbness. No blood circulation. No release.
But anytime, anywhere I will not have breakfast if it isn't with the girl I love. And just now as I talked of bananas and yorgut. I didn't write that thinking of the girl in the pink dress. I wrote thinking about sinking in the girl who when I sink in, and my head is right on her shoulder, the side of her neck. I see her white pearl earrings. And they don't smell or taste like metal.
Then I can whisper...
"I love you!"
But for now... Am so horny I can get a hard on just staring at panties hanging on a hanger in the shop. The bigger... The harder...
