Home
Profile
OTHER BLOGS!
Sexy Magick Desires
Pussy Talk
The Masterorator
Suburban Sex Blog
Messalina's Daughter
My Secret Life As A Prostitute
leapflog's Web Log
guilty_pleasures' Blog
|
Awesome comments from all Jun 15th, 2004 12:31:41 am EST
OK, I have to admit -- I am sometimes like a kid in a candy store when I get up close to my wife's pussy, and to be honest, she tastes better than candy to me. So when I get to the moment, I think I get too excited and just jump in before she's ready. OK, first rule of great sex -- slow down and enjoy it! Be patient. Impatience is the worst thing that can happen during sex.
With good sex last night, I am now at twice over the weekend and I don't know what to do with myself now. This is the most I have had it in several weeks, and it was fun. Lot's of talking, laughing, good fun.
So the other night, while I was setting up my new computer in the living room (the kids were watching a movie in the family room), I heard this screaming from outside. I think nothing of it as we have a lot of kids in the neighborhood and they are loud like my children, and I figure it would stop in a few seconds. But no, it continued on and I heard someone start to yell "Help me! Help Me!". Curious, I look out my window and I see this man literally dragging this girl down the sidewalk across the street. She is screaming, trying to get free, and he is dragging, then turns and hits her across the face, then looks like he is going to drag her some more.
I rush outside and yell at him "What is going on here?"
"Nothing sir, just go back in your home. Just leave me alone." yells the man back.
"No way. How about you let go of the girl and talk to me."
"Please help me, please god, please help oh please oh please." She is sobbing, just broken down, holding her face in her hands, trembling.
"I think you better let go of her right now."
He looks at me confused. This was about 10pm, so very dark, but even in the dim yellow streetlight I could see that he was struggling to think. The girl begins to stand up and he yanks her hard and goes to hit her again.
"STOP!" I use my wrath of God voice, deep baritone that I have sometimes. "Let her go now sir!"
He looks back at me, staying his hand in flight. The girl struggles and breaks free, and he now fights to try and grab her by the arm again. She starts to walk across the street to me and my lawn. Me, I realized I probably looked pretty intimidating in my cowboy pajama bottoms and t-shirt. No matter -- I learned long ago the lesson of attitude as a strength if wielded properly, and this guy showed signs of weakness.
"Sir, can I use your phone? Can I use your phone? He's gonna hurt me, please let me use your phone!"
"You want to call someone? Here, use my phone! Call 911! Call the police. Let them see where you hit me." I realized now that he was my Fijian neighbor from across the street, and this was his wife he was married to 2 months ago. He is 22, we were invited to the wedding but unable to attend. The family wasn't exactly happy at the marriage but supported it anyways, letting the young couple live at his mom's house while they got settled. This is what made them my neighbors.
"No, I want to call my mom. I want to call my brother."
"No way! No! You call 911 -- call them, here, ..." and he makes a grab for the woman on my lawn. "Use my phone. Use IT!"
I step in. "Sir, just back away. She's not going anywhere, so step back and take a breath." He was about 6 feet away and downwind, yet the stench of alcohol was strong. He was beyond gone at this point.
"But she hit me! Look! She hit me in the head with a cup -- right here!" pointing to his left temple. "She hit me. So she can call the cops."
Another neighbor steps on my lawn and he looks like the size of an offensive lineman for the 49er's. He steps in between the happy couple now.
"Would you like to use my phone?"
"Yes! Please!"
I race inside, confident that my new best friend from down the street can keep them apart. My kids inside heard everything and are feaking out at this point. I figure I can take care of that after this crisis, so I go back out and give the phone to the girl. She calls her brother and the husband is now swearing, calling her names.
"You are my woman and now look at you. Where is your place? It is over here. You look where you are at! My family tried to keep me from marrying you, and now look where you are at! Where is your place?"
Sobbing, crying, broken. That is all I can use to really describe her now. I spent the next 20 minutes keeping the guy from yelling at her. He calls the cops anyways, and tells them on the phone that he hit her and wanted the cops there. Like I said -- three sheets to the wind drunk. And 22. And planning on driving to work in his car in the next 40 minutes. Weighs no more than a buck-35.
The brother arrives, threatens the life of this husband guy, and takes his sister and leaves. Then the cops show up, declare the night a success because no one died and the happy couple are spending some alone time apart, and leave.
It was a very strange night.
(3) Comments
Logical- June 15th, 2004
And that really surprises me. I am in my early 30's, so I'm not what one would call as part of the old school, but it was very clear that I had to step in. I certainly don't think I did anything great -- I just did what I normally do as a manager in my business and assumed the authority figure and took command of the situation. Nothing special.
ComeFlirtWithMeX- June 15th, 2004
Well, it was a good thing anyway :-)
|
x
|