The Great American SouthWest

So, I would consider very seriously molesting you...as I know you wouldn't mind....

And I take another look at my hair and think about how I'm such an LA girl, so I opt against it, but I feel you up gratuitously anyway...

Okay, so then, when you're all crazily thinking about tearing up the bed and fucking like crazy....

At that moment, I let go of your dick and check my watch.

And I say, "Shit, baby, I'm going to be late again. We have to get out of here and you have to drive like a maniac."

And though you're distraught, you do like to drive like a maniac...

So, you sigh...very aggressively...and stomp off to the bedroom, TO GET DRESSED...very quickly...since we're late...

And I grab my purse and my day bag and my keys and go to wait in the car...

And you take a while longer...trying to pour some coffee in a thermos or something...getting your money and jacket together, your phone...totally disorganized...

And I honk the horn...several times...

The neighbors come to see...and you lean out the door and point menacingly at me, but I then gesture to my watch and do the imaginary steering wheel thing...

And then you finally come out and get in and drive maniacally through the streets of Arizona...

And I berate you for bringing coffee when you could have, just as easily, gotten a fresh cup at my work...

And you say how you like YOUR coffee...

And I say “Coffee is coffee.”

And you say that attitude makes for a shitty barista...

And I tell you to shut the fuck up and drive...

And you smile, cause you think you won...and you ask, “Why you gotta rag on my coffee?”

I say, “I make coffee for a living...it's my right! Nay, OBLIGATION!”

Yep! And so we get there and I'm late…of course...

And we see my asshole boss doing the five minute meeting with the rest of the baristas...

And you say, “Baby, there are many coffee shops in Arizona, are you sure you HAVE to work at this one?”

And I ponder the idea, responsibly.

And you give me a very tempting look, which reminds me how much I wanted to fondle you gratuitously all morning...

So, I say, “Well, maybe I could just call off...”

And you shrug your shoulders so that I can't blame you later when I am fired from my fourth consecutive barista job and have to go work for (GASP!) Crate & Barrel…and sell flowery headboards and clear plastic cups and clever napkin rings.

And so I call up my manager, Dante...and you snicker, cause his name is Dante...

And I say, "Cough, cough...Dante? I am reeeeally sick and I can't come in today."

And he believes me cause my coughing is so dramatic.

But you think you're funny and you honk the horn.

And he says, "What was that?”

And I say, "NOTHING!" and hang up real fast.

And then I start beating you with whatever is handy. So, I am slapping you with a bag of trash and a dirty running shoe...telling you that you've just got me fired again...and that now I'm not going to suck your dick in the car, though that had been my intention upon making that call...

And you pretend that it's no big deal...and shrug more while I growl to myself on my distinct side of the car...

And then you say that I shouldn't be a barista anyway...

And I swear at you in Spanish, but you are driving to my favorite diner, so I half-forgive you...but I slam the door *dramatically* on my way out and walk way ahead of you...and go off to the bathroom to wash my hands while you get a table.

And um...you've ordered the tea I love...and so I 3/4 of the way have forgiven you now...

And you tell me I am a simple girl and that, if tea makes me happy, maybe I should be a barrista...

So I forgive you 98%...but keep a little in case I want to use it later...

And you order some sort of meat travesty...sausages and eggs and stuff...on a blanket of ham, with cubed chorizo...

And I make lots of faces just reading about it off the menu...

And order French Toast.

And I order some sour cream cause I intend to nibble some of your hash browns when you're occupied with your meat tray...

You'll never notice…there’s a meat tray, remember? I'm hella sneaky.

I even called the waitress back and told her to make them extra crispy for me when you were on the phone...

So we chat and people-watch a lot while we wait for our food...

It takes extra long (for the hash browns to come out extra crispy)...

And we make fun of all of the Arizonites...especially the ones that are with bad perms, and smelly babies, and oddly matched couples, obnoxious teenagers, we love....

Our food turns up and you'd go to town on your meat-stravaganza while I would slyly fork up some hash browns...

Okay, so, I would be stowing away your hash browns...dipping them in sour cream while you're ravaging your main course, totally unaware of the hashed deceit...

And I would then begin the very neat and tidy ordeal of consuming my French Toast, offering you my bacon, which, though you have several slices already, you shruggingly accept...

I order a refill of tea, and you nod politely when she asks you if you want more orange juice...

And we get done, get our check...you let me pay because you're “A Feminist”....grin....

And we get back into the um...Honda Civic, I now have...yeah, in Arizona...it's reliable...you wanted a Mustang, but I live in a studio...I'm on a barista salary...how am I gonna get a Mustang, huh?

So you buy me a pick up truck.

Okay then, we're in the truck, but this time, I'm driving…cause you dug through all the lollipops they give out at the door...hada have a green one...you thought it would be apple...it was lime...you were disappointed...

I sighed and went to pull the car around...

Then you said, "I wanna drive."

And I said, "Tough."

And you get into the passenger side, irritable but compliant...

And I take us to a bookstore so we can pick out books for our next reading adventure...

You want something classic; I want something creative...you pick something...mmm.............yeah, you pick something impressive...you call my choice fruity and rubbish, you call me an "American" in your snotty foreign tone...I point out my SAT scores were mighty impressive and you can just lick my pussy on that note!

And you say something lewd loudly enough to attract attention from nearby pervo bookworms and I blush...yet, find myself reconsidering what I can do to you in the car...

We take the selections up to the counter and I am jumpy, eager to get out of the store...you're amused...

You take your time at the register, counting perfect change from your ridiculously European money clip...yeah, you thought you'd show the Arizonians how it's done.

I am tugging on your shirt waist and trying to hurry you along...

You're very condescending and uppity in Arizona, I've noticed.

Grin.

And so the salesman hands you a bag...but you ask for them to double bag it...you lean across and remind him that this is a CLASS-IC and thus very HEAV-Y…You just can't hide your contempt for American culture...

And I am about to reach into your pocket and molest you in the store.

So, I grab your hand...I am dragging you bodily from the store at this point..

And you follow behind, as I try to fish my keys from my pocket...

Not there...

My purse...

Digging frustratedly, putting it on the hood of the car and taking shit out...

Find them at last and hold them up in triumph...sad, little victory over the void that is my purse bottom...

I unlock the door and...you're such a child...grin...

You say you want to drive, as always, but this time, I don't argue, hand you the keys...I climb across the seat, tugging my skirt down...

You climb in after me, saying, "Seatbelts, please..."

And I shake my head, mouth watering, and say, "No chance, baby."

You have barely started the car when I am across the seat, leaning down with my hands in your lap, unbuttoning your jeans and working on the zipper...

You smile to yourself, and pull expertly out of the parking lot while I situate myself to play with you, most comfortably...on my knees, leaning down with my arms on your thighs...my mouth is just above your shorts, and my breath is hot and fast as I work all the cloth away from your lap...my hair is spilling around my face and you brush it back so you can watch my mouth...

You are managing the multitasking very well, trying to look relaxed and nonchalant while I am working my mouth around your swelling cock, nimbly...

I can't help the moans…you make me so hot, my legs spreading unconsciously as I suck the head of your cock, hard, constant, my hand sliding up and down your shaft…you hold my hair back, watching my cheeks hollow as I suck you, harder, my face flushed with excitement, my cunt tingling, panties no longer dry...

I groan, sliding my hand down to my pussy and shoving my panties to the side, flicking my clit while I swallow you into my deep, wet throat...

You look up, brake lights, decide you can't keep driving...you pull over on a quiet street, the heat all around us, dry and climbing as noon approaches...

I can feel sweat behind my knees, under my thighs, between my breasts as I suck you faster, the car heating up with the air conditioning off...you roll down the windows but it's not any cooler, a burning wind whips across my ass and blows my skirt up, I moan loudly, you can feel it vibrating across your cock...

Your head is back, resting against the back window, your hand creeps down my back, over my ass; I am gasping now, sucking you until breath is no longer an option…

Your hips are working against my mouth, shoving your thick cock way past my tongue, my throat relaxing as my cunt melts, the smell of my pussy filling the car, my tits slapping your thigh gently as my mouth works around your cock...

I am moaning and choking on you, your hand instantly on the back of my head, shoving me down farther, as I tear, my fingers working furiously around my clit, sliding into my slick pussy...

My hair is wrapped around your fist, you have my face locked against your lap, your hand scratching my ass, squeezing my skin harder, the tips of your fingers sliding under my panties and into the cleft of my ass, down farther to my sticky lips...