I hardly noticed that Margie had even crawled into bed with me, or as she rubbed her breasts against my back as she slid in close too me, nor her warm breath upon my neck, not even her hand as it skimmed across my arm, over my chest to cross my stomach lightly. No. No the first real inclination that I wasn’t alone any longer was when I felt her grab a hand full of my cock, which in turn she got a lot of, well, a whole lot of nothing. Nadda. No stirring in the loins, no perky hardness. No, just me limp in her hand.
“What’s the matter?”
“Huh?…What?” was about all I can manage at this hour, having been in deep sleep mere seconds ago. One moment I’m sitting in a bar that opens up on to a beach, the cool ocean air blowing in upon my face and the next I’m looking into almost complete darkness in a state of confusion.
My cock flops around uselessly in Margie’s hand as she juggles my junk as asks again: ‘What’s the matter?’
“What’s the matter? Nothing’s the matter. Why would there be anything the matter?”
“Well, there was a time when just getting into bed was enough to get you hard, and now here I am rubbing my tits against your back, grabbing your balls and I get… nothing.”
I roll over on to my back to face her. My eyes having finally adjusted to the dark and being awake. “Listen, nothing’s wrong. Really. I was dead asleep. That’s all. Nothing more. Nothing less Okay?”
Margie’s outline stairs back at me, but I don’t need light to know what her face looks like: brow furled, biting her upper lip as she thinks about what I just said. And I’m hoping that’ll be enough to sedate her; lull her into just going to sleep, because otherwise this will go in one of two ways: either she’ll still want to have sex, something I’m usually down with, but I had a long day yesterday and I have to get up early with the fact that today will be just as long, the plus side too that is at least I can hurry it along, or, the one I’m most worried about, is that Margie’s going want too have ’The talk’ because she thinks that a) I’m not attracted to her any longer, or b) I’m seeing someone else. Then any thoughts of actually going back to sleep for another couple of hours will disappear, lost to an endless debate of nonsense and speculation that will probably last for days. So I’m hoping for the latter because it’s gone past the point of her of just calling it quits and going to sleep.
As I think about a prevented strike -going in for the sex for before Margie has time to think things through my heart sinks. She removes her hand from me, and at first I think with a flicker of hope that maybe disaster has bee averted only too only watch her instead of lying down prop her head up on one hand, pull her legs up together and wrap her free arm around them.
“So, what’s the matter? Really?” I have too strain to hear Margie as she says this and now I know how it‘s going too be The only thing going through my mind now is: fuck fuck fuck…
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
The Round Barn Winery (Review)
One of the things I can say about the Round Barn is that I always seem to have a good time whether I'm with a huge group or with just my wife.
If you see on the map that they're not that close to the highway and byways the criss-cross the state of Michigan don’t let that stop you because that doesn't stop anybody else from going since the Round Barn is nicely situated right in the middle of the Lake Michigan Wine Trail, which is (in my opinion) a must do.
When I first started going there several years ago they were just coming out with their own beer, and the only other thing on the menu besides wine was brandy. Now the Round Barn has entered the arena of vodka, bourbon, and rum as well. All of which are must haves on any drinkers and occasional drinkers list.
There are two tasting rooms. One for strictly beer (but back when I first started going was the main tasting room), and the Barn where you do all the rest. And yes it's round. Depending on the day and the time of the year you may have the place all too yourself or it can be you fighting for a place at the bar. For five dollars a glass (which you get too keep, and when you bring it back your tasting is free) you get too choose from their vast wine list five either white or red wines, one dessert wine, one of any of the spirits, and a beer token to take to the other building for a glass of their
The place is large enough that if you wanted to buy a bottle and just hang out, which on a hot summer day is a great idea (and one I‘ve done on many of occasions), too just kick back and stretch ones legs in the shade.
My only real complaint is that the Round Barn is a little trendy (but what winery isn't now-a-days), and the patrons who seem to have seen the movie "Sideways" one too may times can come off rather snobby. But don't let that deter you from going because most of them are not like that. Just beware that in the summer months that the place is usually packed on the weekends and don't be surprised if you get the errant wedding or two as well.
You can the Round Barn @ 10983 Hills Road Baroda, Michigan
Cheers
If you see on the map that they're not that close to the highway and byways the criss-cross the state of Michigan don’t let that stop you because that doesn't stop anybody else from going since the Round Barn is nicely situated right in the middle of the Lake Michigan Wine Trail, which is (in my opinion) a must do.
When I first started going there several years ago they were just coming out with their own beer, and the only other thing on the menu besides wine was brandy. Now the Round Barn has entered the arena of vodka, bourbon, and rum as well. All of which are must haves on any drinkers and occasional drinkers list.
There are two tasting rooms. One for strictly beer (but back when I first started going was the main tasting room), and the Barn where you do all the rest. And yes it's round. Depending on the day and the time of the year you may have the place all too yourself or it can be you fighting for a place at the bar. For five dollars a glass (which you get too keep, and when you bring it back your tasting is free) you get too choose from their vast wine list five either white or red wines, one dessert wine, one of any of the spirits, and a beer token to take to the other building for a glass of their
The place is large enough that if you wanted to buy a bottle and just hang out, which on a hot summer day is a great idea (and one I‘ve done on many of occasions), too just kick back and stretch ones legs in the shade.
My only real complaint is that the Round Barn is a little trendy (but what winery isn't now-a-days), and the patrons who seem to have seen the movie "Sideways" one too may times can come off rather snobby. But don't let that deter you from going because most of them are not like that. Just beware that in the summer months that the place is usually packed on the weekends and don't be surprised if you get the errant wedding or two as well.
You can the Round Barn @ 10983 Hills Road Baroda, Michigan
Cheers
Hickory Creek Winery (Review)
We parked in an nearly empty lot at the time, now however it depends on the time of day and year if you get to be so lucky, and once inside I found an Aussie who went by the name Mike tending bar, alone. Turned out my new bartender bud was also co-owner and chief wine maker of Hickory Creek, and was more than kind enough to take us on a little tasting tour of his wines. All of them. They were mostly white at the time, being that most of his reds were still barreled, but Mike assured us that soon they would be ready too go. And they are. Now when you go there, there is well mix of whites and reds to choose from.
Since then, Hickory Creek is on my must stop list and is generally my first stop when I do the wine tour. I prefer their Chardonnay to anyone else's and I hate Chardonnays so that should tell you something, but whatever your taste I‘m sure you can find something that will sooth your appetite for wine. But be prepared to spend a little cash doing so. The Hickory Creek’s cheapest bottle is over ten dollars.
Unfortunately, Mike is no longer tending the tasting room, but he has been replaced by a very nice lady by the name Rosemary (I believe) and she is more than happy to let you sample to hearts desire.
You can find Hickory Creek at 750 Browntown Road Buchanan, Michigan
Cheers
Monday, March 21, 2011
Thanks For The Flowers (Some Explicit Sex)
Sandy’s pussy squirted when she came; her juices flowed down the sides of her legs as Guy filled her with his hard cock. She moaned and grunted with his every thrust. Digging her nails into his back leaving long red lines. Some drawing blood. He raised up, pushing himself up on to his hands straining his forearm muscles as Sandy wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles, afraid he might get away. But she had no reasons to worry. Guy having no intentions of trying to get away. Only to push deeper inside her.
Sandy was beginning to think that she was destined to be the other woman for the rest of her life as she went to answer the door buzzer; Guy standing holding flowers -lilies, her favorite- on the other side looking strange through the fish-eyed lens of the door’s peephole. She leaned her head against the door, unsure of what to do. Her mind said don’t answer, that it would only bring her pain and heartbreak -again; her heart wouldn’t let her though.
God he looked good, she thought.
A thousand questions ran through her head: Why was he here? How the hell did he find me? Was he still married? Excreta. Excreta.
The buzzer sounded a second time, then a knock. He was about to give up. Move away, move on. Sandy could hear the desperation in his hand as it banged gently against the door. It was now or never. Did she answer and go back down that road, or does she let him leave? And in doing so finally move on with her own life?
“Don’t go,” she said to slowly a retreating figure in the hallway.
“I was afraid you…”
“Afraid of what? I wasn’t home?” She giggled, she couldn’t help herself. She felt giddy standing there in the doorway talking to her life’s one great love. Why was it that she couldn’t find someone without all the access baggage? “Or were you afraid that I didn’t want to see you? Or perhaps that I moved on?”
“I don’t know. Maybe everything. Maybe nothing. I was just… afraid. We didn’t leave things well the last time we saw each other.”
Sandy could remember the last time like it was yesterday, the pain still fresh. The cheap airport motel he rented; how itchy the course bed sheets felt on her back as they kissed. Guy’s hand moving across her breasts, down her stomach, in-between her legs. The thought of that almost took her breath away as she stood there. But then she remembered how it all ended: the tears, the broken promises. The sweet and tender apologizes. That mad dash from the room into a rainy night like some bad ending to a pulp novel. Hard to believe it had been five years. He had a fiancé then. Now, she assumed, wife. She moved, physically. Twice. Tried to move on mentally. And when that didn’t work tried to fuck him out of her system with countless guys, girls. Whoever. And after a while it seemed to work. She didn’t think about him (as much), and when she did the pain wasn’t as bad. But now here he was. Standing in front of her. A memory made flesh. But was it the angle version she had of Guy or the devil? Did matter?
No. It didn’t
“Well, come on in.” Sandy opened the door all the way and stepped aside so he could enter. “We have a lot to catch up on.” That familiar sent as he walked by; the tingling her body made as his hand brushed against her arm. Sandy promised herself she’d be good. But she knew deep down it was for naught. “Are you still married?”
“Ah, the same old Sandy.”
“What? I think it’s a fair question.” The door shut harder that she intended, surprising not only her, but Guy. She leaned against the door, hands behind her back to keep them in check incase they decided to have a mind of their own.
Guy laughed. “I guess it is.” He sighed deeply. “So, yes, I’m still married. But truth be told, it’s a marriage of conveyance not of passion.” Guy quickly added. “I brought you flowers. Are lilies still your favorite?”
Sandy’s primal urge seemed to take over, the flowers fell to the floor and she was on him, pulling his lips to hers forcefully before she even knew that she had. Her other hand tore open his shirt, scratched at his chest, squeezed his nipples. Then Sandy dragged her nails down his stomach. She could feel his hardness through his jeans. Sandy pulled her lips from his; her hand from the back of his neck to concentrate on undoing his pants. Falling to her knees as she yanked them down. Guy gasped as Sandy clenched his cock in her hand, slowly stroking it as she looked at him greedily. Then she took him into her mouth. He almost exploded then and there as he grabbed onto the sides of her head, forcing her to slow. But then she would work her tongue around his shaft. Guy shuttered as he released into her mouth. It had been so long since he’d been this excited.
Sandy looked so young as she gazed up at him, gently kissing the head of his cock. “Now that we’ve had the appetizer, I think it’s time we move to the bedroom for the main course.”
Sandy took Guy on a carnal ride of all the things she had learned over the years of trying to forget him. The time of him being more knowledgeable of pleasures of the body were a thing of the past. And now that he had a taste of it, he didn’t want to let it go.
Guy fell next to her spent, covered in sweat and bodily secretions one could only get through sex. “God…damn…” he said, breathlessly. “I don’t remember it…quite like…that.”
Sandy was silent for a moment, catching her own breath. Then she said: “Yeah, well, I’ve learned a thing or too since you’ve been gone.”
Sandy got out of bed, and walked naked too the bathroom. Another thing Guy saw that was new. The Sandy before -his Sandy back when they were an under cover item- would never had dome that. She was more of the cover up after sex type of girl, but this version of the girl he knew was much improved. And something he was going enjoy keeping around instead of the one night stand as he intentioned. And Guy was about too say as much -whatever he needed too say to get her back, when Sandy called out from the other room:
“You know, Guy, I hate too a bitch, but I think you should go. You know it goes: Places to go, people too see. But, hey, thanks for flowers.”
Copyrighted: Paul Dabrowski 03/21/2011
Sandy was beginning to think that she was destined to be the other woman for the rest of her life as she went to answer the door buzzer; Guy standing holding flowers -lilies, her favorite- on the other side looking strange through the fish-eyed lens of the door’s peephole. She leaned her head against the door, unsure of what to do. Her mind said don’t answer, that it would only bring her pain and heartbreak -again; her heart wouldn’t let her though.
God he looked good, she thought.
A thousand questions ran through her head: Why was he here? How the hell did he find me? Was he still married? Excreta. Excreta.
The buzzer sounded a second time, then a knock. He was about to give up. Move away, move on. Sandy could hear the desperation in his hand as it banged gently against the door. It was now or never. Did she answer and go back down that road, or does she let him leave? And in doing so finally move on with her own life?
“Don’t go,” she said to slowly a retreating figure in the hallway.
“I was afraid you…”
“Afraid of what? I wasn’t home?” She giggled, she couldn’t help herself. She felt giddy standing there in the doorway talking to her life’s one great love. Why was it that she couldn’t find someone without all the access baggage? “Or were you afraid that I didn’t want to see you? Or perhaps that I moved on?”
“I don’t know. Maybe everything. Maybe nothing. I was just… afraid. We didn’t leave things well the last time we saw each other.”
Sandy could remember the last time like it was yesterday, the pain still fresh. The cheap airport motel he rented; how itchy the course bed sheets felt on her back as they kissed. Guy’s hand moving across her breasts, down her stomach, in-between her legs. The thought of that almost took her breath away as she stood there. But then she remembered how it all ended: the tears, the broken promises. The sweet and tender apologizes. That mad dash from the room into a rainy night like some bad ending to a pulp novel. Hard to believe it had been five years. He had a fiancé then. Now, she assumed, wife. She moved, physically. Twice. Tried to move on mentally. And when that didn’t work tried to fuck him out of her system with countless guys, girls. Whoever. And after a while it seemed to work. She didn’t think about him (as much), and when she did the pain wasn’t as bad. But now here he was. Standing in front of her. A memory made flesh. But was it the angle version she had of Guy or the devil? Did matter?
No. It didn’t
“Well, come on in.” Sandy opened the door all the way and stepped aside so he could enter. “We have a lot to catch up on.” That familiar sent as he walked by; the tingling her body made as his hand brushed against her arm. Sandy promised herself she’d be good. But she knew deep down it was for naught. “Are you still married?”
“Ah, the same old Sandy.”
“What? I think it’s a fair question.” The door shut harder that she intended, surprising not only her, but Guy. She leaned against the door, hands behind her back to keep them in check incase they decided to have a mind of their own.
Guy laughed. “I guess it is.” He sighed deeply. “So, yes, I’m still married. But truth be told, it’s a marriage of conveyance not of passion.” Guy quickly added. “I brought you flowers. Are lilies still your favorite?”
Sandy’s primal urge seemed to take over, the flowers fell to the floor and she was on him, pulling his lips to hers forcefully before she even knew that she had. Her other hand tore open his shirt, scratched at his chest, squeezed his nipples. Then Sandy dragged her nails down his stomach. She could feel his hardness through his jeans. Sandy pulled her lips from his; her hand from the back of his neck to concentrate on undoing his pants. Falling to her knees as she yanked them down. Guy gasped as Sandy clenched his cock in her hand, slowly stroking it as she looked at him greedily. Then she took him into her mouth. He almost exploded then and there as he grabbed onto the sides of her head, forcing her to slow. But then she would work her tongue around his shaft. Guy shuttered as he released into her mouth. It had been so long since he’d been this excited.
Sandy looked so young as she gazed up at him, gently kissing the head of his cock. “Now that we’ve had the appetizer, I think it’s time we move to the bedroom for the main course.”
Sandy took Guy on a carnal ride of all the things she had learned over the years of trying to forget him. The time of him being more knowledgeable of pleasures of the body were a thing of the past. And now that he had a taste of it, he didn’t want to let it go.
Guy fell next to her spent, covered in sweat and bodily secretions one could only get through sex. “God…damn…” he said, breathlessly. “I don’t remember it…quite like…that.”
Sandy was silent for a moment, catching her own breath. Then she said: “Yeah, well, I’ve learned a thing or too since you’ve been gone.”
Sandy got out of bed, and walked naked too the bathroom. Another thing Guy saw that was new. The Sandy before -his Sandy back when they were an under cover item- would never had dome that. She was more of the cover up after sex type of girl, but this version of the girl he knew was much improved. And something he was going enjoy keeping around instead of the one night stand as he intentioned. And Guy was about too say as much -whatever he needed too say to get her back, when Sandy called out from the other room:
“You know, Guy, I hate too a bitch, but I think you should go. You know it goes: Places to go, people too see. But, hey, thanks for flowers.”
Copyrighted: Paul Dabrowski 03/21/2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Get Too The Chopper -Flash Fiction
“Get too the chopper,” I yell in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger too the others, flipping the lifeless girl -the girl I was here for; paid to come get- over my shoulder, just as a bunch of very pissed off Cultists, clad in a strange mix of robes and automatic weapons, pursue us from the temple and into the ceremonial square.
The blades of the Huey whip up dust, and toss the hair around the heads that sit atop the meter high stakes that line the way to the temple as she descends slowly, then hovers a mere feet off the ground. Our pilot ready too run at a moments notice; Steve unloads a torrent of bullets from the his mini-gun from the gunners position at the back of the troop compartment, cargo hold, or what ever the fuck you call it. Laying down a carpet of hellish lead at our newly made friends. The first row never saw it coming until they were being chewed to pieces. The others, unfortunately, were smart enough to take cover where ever they could find it.
I don’t brother to really look back, too take stock in the damage Steve caused. What I saw was enough to know that I didn’t have to run and shoot and dodge all while trying to balance the girl at the same time.
The team hit the Huey’s deck, two of my guys head to the other side and start to shoot widely out the that door into the jungle to keep the heads down of anyone trying to flank our LZ while the others turn and help cover me as I huff and puff my old ass towards them.
The guys help lift me and our package into the chopper, and we’re all barely in when the pilot decides that he’s had enough fun and begins to lift off.
The trees and foliage melt together, turning into one large carpet of green as we go.
“Fuck me,” I say too no one in particular, “Hell of a way to make a buck.”
The blades of the Huey whip up dust, and toss the hair around the heads that sit atop the meter high stakes that line the way to the temple as she descends slowly, then hovers a mere feet off the ground. Our pilot ready too run at a moments notice; Steve unloads a torrent of bullets from the his mini-gun from the gunners position at the back of the troop compartment, cargo hold, or what ever the fuck you call it. Laying down a carpet of hellish lead at our newly made friends. The first row never saw it coming until they were being chewed to pieces. The others, unfortunately, were smart enough to take cover where ever they could find it.
I don’t brother to really look back, too take stock in the damage Steve caused. What I saw was enough to know that I didn’t have to run and shoot and dodge all while trying to balance the girl at the same time.
The team hit the Huey’s deck, two of my guys head to the other side and start to shoot widely out the that door into the jungle to keep the heads down of anyone trying to flank our LZ while the others turn and help cover me as I huff and puff my old ass towards them.
The guys help lift me and our package into the chopper, and we’re all barely in when the pilot decides that he’s had enough fun and begins to lift off.
The trees and foliage melt together, turning into one large carpet of green as we go.
“Fuck me,” I say too no one in particular, “Hell of a way to make a buck.”
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