Darling Nikki

Nicole Lindner wasn’t just any bitch. She was THAT BITCH.

She was the type to go into a designer store and drop ten bills without even looking at the price tag.

She always paid for the check without looking at the receipt first. She didn’t have to.

She spent money like water but always had just enough in her account at all times.

She had that swagger. The confidence that was so overwhelming, it made other women want to be like her and get to know her even more. But Nikki was a woman who had few friends and many enemies. But it wasn’t to say she didn’t like it like that. The tighter her circle, the fewer problems presented themselves. The more enemies she had, the more free publicity garnered.

After all, to be hated is to be loved in Nikki’s mind.

She came to the club by herself that night. Having a hard day at work, all Nikki wanted was to get drunk and forget about her troubles. There was nothing more irresistible than a man who had confidence. Not just any confidence. Rich, buttery soul smoothness. Not all men have it. Not all women want it. But there was something about Dave Batista that was captivating.

But Nikki wasn’t focused on his looks or confidence. She didn’t give a damn about neither. She was so used to scaring men off with her brash demeanor, she found herself stumbling and stuck when Dave wouldn’t remove himself from her presence.

“Listen, you have exactly five seconds to get the hell out of my face before I…”

Dave stepped up to the petite beauty. “Before you what?”

Is this motherfucker seriously challenging me? Nikki softly nodded to the drink in her hand. “Dare me to throw this drink in your face.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Knowing you, that drink probably has all the top-shelf labels in it,” Dave’s swagger was undeniable to Nikki, “you’re not going to waste it on me.”

“You don’t know that.”

Dave shook his head in defiance. “And risk getting kicked out of the club?”
“There are others I can go to,” she responded.

“And I can make sure you don’t get into any of them.”

“You don’t own a goddamn thing.”

“You don’t know that.” Dave defied her.

Nikki closed her eyes. Why was she arguing with some asshole whose name she forgotten already? “I’m such a good mood, I’m going to do you a favor,” she picked up her Chloe clutch. “Bye!”

“I’ll see you later, Ms. Lindner.”

“In your dreams, asshole,” Nikki repeated.

Blow by Blow

There is nothing better than waking up from a sex-filled night to a bright and early sun. You feel refreshed. You feel like you want to go out and tackle the day’s events. You feel like you want to conquer the world.

Fuck that. I want to go back to sleep.

So after the night filled with fucking, Ran-asshole to my left here decided to keep my ass up another way—with his goddamn snoring all motherfucking night. Now I know there are breathing strips and all sorts of other shit available. Please tell me why this motherfucker hasn’t invested in any of the shit? Huh? Why?

Not only that, but he likes to wrap his arms around me and give me a fucking bear hug like I’m about to escape from prison or some shit. Motherfucker, I can’t breathe! This asshole is clingier than goddamn Reynolds Wrap. It’s a good thing he’s fine and has a big dick. How Sam tolerated that shit, I don’t know.

“Whatcha writing?” He asks.

My fingernail clacking on my keyboard woke up Snore Bear. I quickly close it and smile at him. He does look pretty cute I have to admit. His bed hair is all twisted and messed up. There’s a bit of crust between in his eyes and his he has pillow marks indented in his cheeks. Awe. How adorable.

“I’m writing in my journal.”

He yawns and stretches out on the bed. “About me?”

Damn skippy it’s about you. I have about a good 5 Federalist Papers-length entries just on your ass alone, dickwad “About anything, really.”

“Can I read it?”

I smile at him lovingly. “Hell no.”

“At least you’re honest,” he shrugs.

“You can never say I wasn’t.”

Randy pats the bed, beckoning me to come back. I set my computer aside and climb inside. We snuggle and he kisses my nose. “What’s on your mind?”

Gee, where do I start? Let’s talk about what the fuck happened last night, Randy? Let’s chat about your undying love and devotion to me, Randy? Let’s talk about your psycho ex-girlfriend, Randy. There are so many things I want to talk about and need to be addressed now. But I don’t want to ruin the moment for some “What are we?” bullshit talk. So I just answer as honestly as I can.

“Nothing.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

-------------------------------------------

The one thing I love about Glen is that no matter what happens in my fucked-up life, I can always count on him to lift my spirits. All he has to do is say just one word and voila, my worries are washed away:

“Neiman Marcus, baby.”

Okay, so that was three words but you get my drift. An hour later, we’re walking throughout the store. MAC counter to my right. Bobbi Brown to my left. Chanel boutique diagonally across. Miu Miu section at 3 o’clock. Versace at 7 o’clock. Heaven is a good sale at Neiman Marcus.

As standard, Glen plays the role of my pretend-boyfriend so no other man tries to get with me. A few giggles, a couple of hugs, and lots of hand holding. You’ll be amazed at how many guys try to hate on him. They give him looks as if they’re saying, ‘How in the fuck is he with her?’

Cute.

So we’re over by my favorite part of the store—the handbag section. This is the section that you better not even try to guess how much something costs or if you can afford it. If you can’t afford the shit, your ass shouldn’t be in Neiman Marcus. It’s not the place that bitches go “just to look.” You buy and then get out.

But the handbags…Lord have mercy…so many to choose from and not enough time to decide. Ladies, you can relate, right? You see something that begs you to purchase it no matter the cost. Yeah, that’s what I’m feeling right about now. I’m feeling that itch to drop $1600 on a Chloe right now.

That’s right. I know you hate me. If I were you, I would hate me, too.

Purchasing a beyond expensive handbag isn’t my concern, however. While I had some mind-blowing-without-the-dick-slapping sex last night, I feel a little funny. No, not walking like I just got off a bronco funny but funny as in I’m not sure how I should feel. Ran-asshole professed his love to me. And I didn’t say shit back.

See? A little funny.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Randy is the guy who I’ve craved—okay, my pussy has craved—forever. Yet, this is the second time he’s said those three little words and I was like *crickets chirping*

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“You look preoccupied,” Glen interrupts my thought.

“I have a lot on my mind.” Shit, was I that obvious?

“Something tells me you’re not deciding which Chloe you should choose from.”

I sigh. “If only my life was that easy.”

“Wanna talk about it, princess?”

I nudge Glen to two waiting chairs and we sit down. I take a couple of deep breaths but I’m still trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Even 12 hours later and I’m still in shock. “He told me last night he loved me.”

Glen listens intently and nods as if he’s saying he understands the seriousness of the situation and how I could really fuck it up. “I take it you didn’t return the favor?”

“He wouldn’t let me.”

“So…” he begins, “do you?”

If that’s not the Million-Dollar question, I don’t know what is. But what’s even more fucked up is I don’t know the answer.

Chicken Soup for the Soul

It should be Nyquil for the soul. Why in the hell am I still awake?

I know why...I'm test driving my new 6-inch stilettos I bought over the weekend. That's right, 6 inches. You and I both know 6-inch stilettos are fucking shoes. I probably won't wear them outside my bedroom, if at all...but they're cute. They're clear with little fuzzies on the top. Why wouldn't I get them? Hello!

Nothing much to report here...finally began mapping out my goals for next year. I really didn't map out any goals for this year so I'm trying to figure out what I need to do to get moving. I think I had way too many distractions within this past year and I just needed a break and clarity to remind myself why I do this...why I write...why I love...why I'm passionate....

Hmm....that's about it....

Update

Well, I'm safe from the fires...for the time being. It was a big lesson in humility this past weekend, I tell you that much. I quickly found out who my true friends are and selfish bitches who couldn't give a goddamn less. Whatev. I don't have time for it.

Back to business....a sneak peek will be posted later....

Blow by Blow

Soft and Wet has to be one of the best Prince songs ever. Yes, ever. Vintage and classic like an old Chevy. Sexy and fast like a little red corvette. Okay, wow. That was even cheesy for me.

This is the Prince who told me how much he likes getting head. This is the Prince who made me fantasize I was his Darling Nikki. It’s the classic Prince before he went all crazy and turned his name into some goddamn inexplicable symbol. Whatever, dude. Just keep making my panties wet and you’re all good in my book.

“I personally don’t see how a petite man who sings like a woman, wears high heels and looks like he weighs a buck twenty-five soaking wet with bricks is attractive.” Ran-asshole spills.

Oh no, he didn’t! I know this big-dicked motherfucker isn’t talking shit on my main man. Of course, I have to retaliate in the only Maria way I know how. “That’s a bold statement coming from someone who pays for it.”

Randy takes a swig of his beer and concedes with my smart-ass statement. “After looking at this place on and off for the past two years, I did pay for it.”

Ooh. Match point. That was a good one.

Sushi was pretty uneventful. After Randy and I conversed (noticed I said ‘converse’, not ‘conversate,’ people. Conversate is not a word) we head back to my place. To discuss. Yeah, discuss. Uh-huh. I’m going to keep saying that.

So why the topic on my favorite non-sexual subject? I’m currently schooling Ran-asshole on the brilliance of Prince. We’re in my living room and he just doesn’t understand all the hype. What the hell? Johnny understood the hype and didn’t ask questions. All he knew was to put some Prince on and it was a guarantee dick-sucking that night. Come to think of it, Johnny did play Prince a lot.

“So this Soft and Wet song?” It’s clear Randy doesn’t like Prince. His beady little eyes are all squinted like he’s seeing something in the distance but can’t quite make out exactly what it is. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had that look on his face, that’s for damn sure. “He’s saying the chick is soft and wet?”

Ding, ding, ding. Houston, we have a genius. “Yes, but he’s explaining how wonderful and supple she is. How sensual she is.”

Randy shrugs. “Why couldn’t he just say that instead of singing in a goddamn falsetto?”

“See, this is why you pay for it, asshole,” I point to him.

Randy chuckles and shrugs a little. “Maybe. But I never had to say some fucking metaphors and similes to get some ass.”

I’m having a hard time swallowing that piece of shit he just fed me. “Never?”

Randy smirks for a minute. “Yeah, I didn’t think you would buy that shit?”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” I grin back. It’s kinda fun bantering with him, I’ll admit. Some of our best times occurred when we weren’t fucking.

“So…maybe once or twice?”

“Really? And what was this genius moment?”

“Oh, whenever I see a pretty girl.” Randy smiled. “You know, every guy does has the same lines.”

“Oh, let me guess,” I smile, “ ‘You’re so smart, baby,’ ‘you’re so beautiful, honey…’”

“I love you, baby,” he adds.

“Oh yeah! That’s another one!” I point to him. Sad to admit, I’ve been a victim of that bullshit lie. But then again, I’ve used that bullshit lie my damn self. “I forgot about that one!”

“No, Maria,” he gets up and walks over to me. He grabs me by my waist and quickly plants a searing kiss on my lips. He smells musky, almost intoxicating. His breath is a combination of mint and sake. But it’s his impending erection that captures my attention. He’s pressed tight against my body and there’s no doubt what’s on his mind. Now what’s in his heart is a different matter.

Randy takes his time, sucking my bottom lip and then my upper. He places soft kisses around my mouth and traces my jaw line with his tongue. He then moves down to my neck and gently nibbles on it before he moves back up to my lips. Fuck, I totally forgot how much I missed this man on me.

Randy pulls away for just a split second and looks intently in my eyes. This is the most intense I’ve seen him. You know how you put your arms on someone to get their attention because you’re about to tell them something important? That’s what Randy’s doing to me now but it’s still not registering with me. “I love you, Maria.”

I can’t handle this shit right now. I couldn’t handle it when he told me last year; I damn sure can’t handle it 12 months later. I shake my head. “Randy, I…”

He places a finger on my lips. “Shh…let’s just enjoy this moment, okay?” He asks.

“Okay,” I mouth back. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want this moment to happen but it still got me off-guard. My mind is saying it’s a bad, bad idea but to hell with my mind right about now. It’s not about to get fucked.

Little Maria down there is.

-------------------

12 months can do a lot to someone’s lovemaking skills. It can either enhance it or make it worse. While I do agree sex is just like a bicycle—once you learn how to ride it, you don’t forget—I do think all you need is one bumpy road and you’ll quickly fall off that motherfucker and break your ass.

But with Randy here…he never missed a toe-curling step. He wants to make love to me, not just fuck me like he has in the past. He undresses me then he picks me up and carries me to the bed.

“Stay there,” he instructs before he leaves.

I don’t know what he has in mind. I’m curious but I’m anxious. I’m dying for this moment but I can’t wait for it to finally happen. My thoughts are broken when I hear his footsteps up the stairs and a motion for me to open my thighs. I look down and see Randy has a bottle of honey and is dripping it on my clit. I don’t want to get excited but I’m wondering what the hell he’s doing.

“You know you don’t have to…” I begin.

“Shh…” Randy puts another finger to his lips. “Just enjoy.”

Now ladies, if you ever received good head, there’s this feeling in the duration that just can’t be explained. It’s the toe-curling, pillow-biting, grabbing-onto-something-that’s-nailed-down type of feeling. It’s like going to church and catching the Holy Ghost. It’s like floating on cloud nine and you didn’t smoke any drugs.

It’s fucking awesome.

He’s doing these flicking motions with his tongue, hitting my spot each and every fucking time. He rolls my pearl around his tongue like it’s on a chase and he’s trying to catch it. But then he does something I only experienced with Johnny. Randy sticks a finger in my ass and another in my pussy. As he licks me, he finger fucks both of my holes at the same time. My body surrenders to the incredible feeling. I immediately explode into several orgasms over and over again. Finally, I brush Randy’s head away from my pussy because I’m just way too sensitive for any more.

He then gets up and undoes his slacks. He pulls me by my ankles and looks down at me. “You ready, baby?”

I nod silently in hot anticipation. I just want to get fucked already.

Randy then teases my opening with his dick. He wants me to relish it. He wants me to crave it. He wants me to beg for it. “Just give it to me,” I ask.

Almost immediately, he glides his throbbing dick inside me. The incredible friction is both unbearable for us and we take a moment to relish the pleasure. Randy then begins to make love to me, holding my legs in the air as he watches the action. He moves my legs in different positions, increasing the pleasure.

Soon, he begins to move faster. I feel his balls slap against my ass as he taunts me to take more of what he’s offering. He reaches down and fingers my clit as he continues to glide in and out of me, wanting me to come again and again.

I yell in a sharp cry and feel my body exploding into mini-convulsions as Randy still makes love to me. He picks up the pace and lets out a few grunts. He then pulls out and shoots all over my clit before he collapses on top of me. Throughout the night, we make love some more before finally falling asleep in my bed.

I don’t know what’s going to happen with Randy and me in the future and right about now, I’m not even thinking that far ahead. But right now, I just want to savor this moment.

I’ll deal with Sam’s bitch ass later.

Didn't Realize...

I was still popular...

Okay, for those who don't know...I post from time to time on fanfiction.net. Now, I don't post as much as I used to just because my reality (real life) has taken over my fantasy (fiction writing). Also, with work full-time, a newly formed engagement (happy engagement to me...happy engagement to me...), and editing other stories, I just needed a break.

But when I posted a couple of chapters from past stories, I was shocked....I'm still popular. Who'd thunk it?

So I'm going to post a few chapters on this blog here as well just so you guys can get an idea on what it is about me. I'm still shocked that I'm resonate with some people. But you know what? That totally freaking rocks....

Hello Everyone,

Okay, so I created this blog about many moons ago and I totally forgot about it. Go figure. But anyhoo, here I am and I expect to post a lot more. Expect a combination of my sample work in addition to everyday life rantings. Really, I'm not this boring. I just ran out of shit to say for my first blog.

Hi to my haters because I know they're reading this (or one of their many minnions are).