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Too Many Miles
Down in the Dirt (v130) (the July/Aug. 2015 Issue)




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Too Many Miles

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Liam Spencer

    It had been a while, truth be told. First had been recovery from a true heart smashing. Then there was the soul crushing worker’s comp era. Then there was learning a murderous job, followed by torturous hours that brought good paychecks. Over two and a half years wasted.
    There I was, rushing to meet someone. It was our second date. There had been flirtations with various women along the way, and a “roommate” where things nearly happened, but this seemed liked it could be real.
    Our first date had rules. No kissing or touching. No sex. All up front. I pay. It was far away from where I live. It went well, except for the expense. We talked and drank and ate. Then we danced. Then we made out. Then she grabbed me in all the right places. She led me to a nearby park at one in the morning.
    She led me to the lookout. We didn’t look. Instead, she pulled me into her, backing until her back was against cold rails. She grabbed my hair and pulled me violently into a kiss, sucking my tongue into her mouth. We went at it full on, stopping just shy of penetration. Aggression. Beautiful.

    Now was the second date. I could tell she was a little insane, but I wasn’t sure the extent. She might be deliciously insane, I thought, the best kind. Mmm.
    She came to my area of the city. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, and I was not exactly ready. My apartment was a mess. I had been working unbelievable hours, then got hurt on the job. The hours had me pile up mess in my place, and now the injury prevented much cleaning.
    It’d have to do.

    A long overcoat showed only face and calves. She beamed brightly, but insecurities showed. She kissed first, again sucking my tongue into her mouth, setting the tone. We walked hand in hand toward overpriced restaurant/bars common to Seattle. A man has to show he makes money to get women to take him seriously. Traps.
    In checking out restaurants, there were three guys standing there asking us questions about where to get laid. They eyed her like their next meal. I glared, but tried to show good humor. The “convo” took too long. Nonetheless, we made our way, ending up at a very nice, overpriced wine bar. Within moments, she forcefully lip locked me. I was unprepared, but pleased.
    She chatted with the waitress far too much, explaining where she was from, how things are in Northern California, etc. The waitress shot me a look as if she was wondering what I was doing with such a person. I smiled. Tip would be large tonight. I took the lead in selecting a bottle of wine. French, not Californian. Her eyes flashed attraction.
    I sat there, my arm around her, listening to madnesses she was trying to hide. It had been so long. I longed to know the waitress though. Beautiful and gritty. Primal and true. Hard work, gifted at cutting bullshit short in pleasant ways. A pro.

    After one glass, she slid my hand under her bra in full view of everyone. I pulled back.
    “Coward.” She said, smiling.
    “Oh well.”

    We went outside to smoke. I barely got my cigarette lit before she pounced, full on. Eventually I got some distance. It was too much right there, although I thought about getting her into the alley...
    “Where do you live? Around here?”
    “Yeah, actually. Right around the corner.”
    “Oh. Wouldn’t take you long to get home then.”
    “Yeah. You know, I have a bottle of really good, aged wine at home. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. Care to share it with me?”
    “Are you asking me to your place?” she beamed.
    “Yes. Yes I am.”
    She grabbed me in the right place, leaned in close, kissed me, and spoke in a serious tone;
    “Let’s go.”
    We went in the wine bar and guzzled what was left. I paid the bill, big tip included. We left hand in hand.
    A half block later she interrupted our conversation.
    “How much further? I need the bathroom.”
    “A half block. We’re almost there.”

    She was pissing while I poured two glasses. As I tried to turn on music, she exited my bathroom. She looked at me for a brief moment.
    “Where’s the bedroom? I wanna see it.”
    “To your right.”
    She pulled her dress off, then went in. My eyes widened. I followed her on in with the glasses.

    There was no need for wine. She sprawled out, ready. I stripped down and got on top of her, ready for foreplay. She wanted none of it.
    “What? You’re not going to fuck me?”
    Ok. Ok. I slid in. She was not all that tight. Forty three. Three fully grown kids. It was good though. Except... every time she seemed to get really excited, she moved to pull me right out. I’d reenter, and she would do it again.
    Finally, I really got going. Her legs were over my shoulders, and I was pounding. Her moans grew and grew. When I was finally ready, she grabbed a handful of my beard and yanked the hair right out of my face.
    “OUCH! FUCK!”
    I nearly hit the ceiling.

    “What? You don’t like hair pulling? How do YOU like it, huh?!”
    I lost my erection, and climbed off her. My face hurt where hair once existed.
    “WHAT?!! You didn’t even come when I did that?!”
    “No. please don’t do that again.”

    “I’m bored then. Let’s get dressed.”
    “Ok.”
    I was done and put off. Dating sucks.

    We sat outside smoking. She sat on the steps, her legs hanging out. Her pussy was clearly visible for all to see.
    “I gotta go. I am so disappointed. I mean, really.”
    “Sorry but me too.”
    She shot me a look. I didn’t care.
    “You might wanna put panties on though. Everyone can see your pussy.”
    “I didn’t wear any. It shows through with this dress.”
    “Oh. Ok then.”
    “Walk me to the bus. I’m sure you don’t mind. You had your dick in me a few minutes ago, right?’
    “Yeah, sure, ok. Let’s get you there.”

    We walked down to the bus stop. The buses weren’t running as they normally do. Delays due to budget cutbacks. She needed to get downtown to hop on the train. I needed her gone. It was late, again. The alarm clock would be merciless. Five AM. Back to hell...I mean, work. I ordered her a cab and prepaid. She glowed. We kissed. She was off.
    I hobbled back to my apartment. Empty condom wrappers and empty glasses of wine. Pleasures unmet.
    I opened a beer and remembered better days with someone very special. The Her was gone. I realized how much I still miss her. Still, she was gone.
    Damn this dating scene. I crawled on the couch and dozed off.
    It was all that was left.



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