It took me a minute to realize that I was in his bed, in his room. There was a meaty, warm arm wrapped around me and that was why I was so hot. I sat up and pulled off my San Francisco 49ers shirt and pajama shorts and crawled back under the covers.
The Neighbor opened up his arms and I snuggled inside his embrace and turned around to nuzzle his neck and pull off his basketball shorts. I clutched and stroked his beautiful erection and sleepily, lo, half-drunkenly, we laughed and chatted about our night. It’d been goddamned epic.
Wine and Sidecars, fucking and hugs, laughing and wrestling, orgasms and cum.
“I want some motherfucking waffles,” he declared between laughing. I giggled and said I had a motherfucking headache.
“Do you have any ibuprofen?” I asked standing up and stretching in the morning light.
“If I do, it’ll be in the medicine cabinet.” I quickly discovered he didn’t have any.
“I’ll be right back!” I called to him as I headed to his front door, naked and brash. I checked to see if the coast was clear and jumped the five feet to my front door and let myself in and was met with the proof of my ill repute.
My black club chair was pushed to the side, the ottoman was draped in a poker felt, the lilies I’d bought for Noodle’s visit had opened up overnight and their sweet smell mixed with the remnants of incense. To my left, by the kitchen table in a heap, was my black shirt and pale pink panties and matching lace bra. Wine and half-filled champagne glasses were on every possible surface.
I looked around, but no one was there. Quietly I walked to the back of the apartment and pushed open my door. Noodle was mounted on Downstairs Neighbor, his cock buried deep inside of her.
“Hi, guys!” I beamed, partially hiding my nudity behind the door.
“Hy!” they exclaimed together startled.
“Whatchoo guys, doin’?” I asked laughing.
“Goddamnit, Hy! Get out of here!” boomed DN with a laugh. Noodle just giggled, never breaking contact with my neighbor.
“You want some fucking waffles? TN’s starving and he wants some fucking waffles,” I announced, mirth plastered on my face.
“Yes,” DN said annoyed, “We want some fucking waffles, but later! Get the hell out!” I shut the door laughing and returned to TN’s bed, the ibuprofen in hand.
“They were fucking again, but I told them we want some motherfucking waffles so they’ll be done soon,” I said to him with a smile.
When Noodle arrived yesterday around 1:30 I was waiting for her on my stairwell; I couldn’t contain my excitement in the apartment. When we finally met I squealed and jumped up and down and hugged and hugged and hugged her.
With a wine glass in her hand she wandered around the apartment exclaiming at how weird it was to actually be seeing it with her own eyes. She went out on the balcony, her wavy hair blowing in the breeze, and pointed to TN’s balcony, “Is that –?” she left off the rest of the sentence.
“Yep. Sure is. And that,” I said pointing below, “Is Downstairs Neighbor,” and as I said it I could see him sitting in his chair smoking his Camel Lights. I made quick introductions and begged him for a smoke. He said he’d just come up and give me one.
It was strange to watch as one of my characters met one of my readers. One has had the benefit of knowing me in my skin and the the other in my head. Did they know the same woman??
He left and Noodle and I went and got pedicures and sipped on smuggled wine. We chatted and laughed and she said nice things about my legs and I said nice things about her tits.
By the time we returned to the apartment the rain had stopped and the temperature had dropped a few degrees. A breeze swept through my rooms and I felt as light-hearted as a girl riding her first pony. Hunger drove us from the house and while meandering through Friday afternoon traffic we listened to Super Tramp curling out of the car radio.
At the little house bar we sat outside and drank more wine and nibbled on cheese and smoked salmon. We talked and laughed and then headed home where we lounged around like college students. I considered a pillow fight, but painted my nails while she told me tales instead. Then I watched her put on her makeup and get dressed for dinner while laying on my bed. It was like we’d done this a thousand times before.
Then, right before the cabbie called to announce his arrival, she made me take off my shirt to take a picture.
My girlfriend, Lindsey, joined us for dinner and drinks and Noodle brilliantly sidestepped the questions of, “So, how do you know Hy? How long have you known her?” not for the first time that night. We laughed and told jokes and she lamented at how lame the men in my city were. “Wow, you really weren’t kidding when you said men don’t hit on you!”
“Yep, the men here are fucking jerks,” added Lindsey.
By 10:30 we were ready to go home. We’d killed another bottle of wine and were eager to have the night really begin. TN was waiting for us somewhere in the night.
I called him to let him know we were home-bound and he offered to come pick us up, always the gentleman. He rolled up in his fancy black car and we jumped in. He drove Lindsey to her car and then the three of us headed home.
He had no idea what a big fucking deal that moment was, that meeting those two women meant more than just meeting two random people in my life. Noodle knows every intimate detail of everything he and I have ever done, Lindsey knows the emotional aspects of everything. To him, they were just Noodle and Lindsey. To them, this was the ubiquitous, omnipresent Neighbor that — for lack of a better word — tortures their friend.
I had the sense that I was suddenly writing my own narrative again, but I shook it off and barreled down the road I travel: fucking fun and frolic.
We spilled into my apartment and TN ran next door to get his Sidecar fixings. We are going to get drunk, he said and he was right. The liquor flowed saloon-like for hours. We played poker. We laughed so hard our sides hurt and TN flirted shamelessly with me in front of Noodle making a liar out of me. He’d never been so openly affectionate before.
Memory fades in and out from there, a misty ribbon of images and feelings: Embraced by Noodle, my head clutched to her warm bosom in a loving hug; I was safe. Fucked and pounded on the floor in the living room; impaled and cried in my room, TN over me and in me, Noodle’s lilting voice in my ear. Came and cried as he rammed into me, his mouth on her breast. Filled up with his cum. Laughing on the balcony with Downstairs Neighbor. Wrestling like puppies with my love while Noodle and DN kissed and canoodled under the stars. Cuddling on the floor of his balcony. Noodle and DN in various and sundry compromising positions on my couch. And then, his arm around me in his bed, sunshine pouring through the blinds.
Noodle remembers it all. Every word, every nuance, every thrust. She was my champion, my protector, my sweet tiger. She growled and bristled and cuffed the man-puppy on the ear when he began to stray and she outright thrummed with anger when he hurt me.
After poker, when I invited TN to touch our breasts, to give him that gift, he compared the two. I laughed, but she hissed. Her rebuke was swift and firm. I don’t think he knew why he had dropped to give her 10, but he did it anyway. And then, with a smile and her drawl, she explained to him that he may never discuss her breasts with me ever. He nodded assent.
But the lesson was short lived.
Noodle said he suddenly looked like a kid in a candy store when I’d told him she could cum from nipple stimulation. He slipped his hand beneath her shirt and rubbed expertly over her bra until she had a little orgasm. He looked at me watching them and quipped, “Now why can’t you do that, Hy?”
Noodle said I looked crushed, that my lip trembled and I struggled to be ok. I have no memory of this. And then I left for a minute to do what, she doesn’t know, but in those 120 seconds she squared off with TN. “You can’t say shit like that. It’s not right,” she leveled at him. “A woman is either wired to do that or she isn’t. And you are asking her to do something that her body physically can’t. And all she wants to do is please you and that was an asshole thing to say. Do you understand?”
Understanding washed over his face as he said, “Oh.”
“Don’t say something like that again. Got it?” and she set her jaw defiantly at him right as I returned.
Without a word she opened her arms to me and I fell to the ground with her as she cradled me, kissed my forehead and stroked my hair. TN was across the room and she said he came up behind me and spooned me, wanting to be part of my solace. They joked that they were making a Hy sandwich, her anger at him gone and replaced with the common goal of loving me.
Then, because he knows he can always make me feel better with his body, he slipped his fingers inside of me and began to stroke as I lay nestled in her arms. I was bashful as heat began to wash over me. His fingers and palm worked the slow burn inside of me until I blossomed. I turned into him as he made me climax in front of Noodle and she stepped back and he devoured me. Tore off my clothes and his and took me on the living room floor with our audience of one looking on heatedly.
She said he wanted to show me off, show her what I could do at his hands. She sensed he was proud of me.
He led the both of us back to my room. The brandy was thick in my brain and I was a bundle of passion and lust and love and trust. It was all there, visible for anyone to see if he cared to. Noodle saw it.
She lay on the bed, fully clothed while we rutted, steam rising from our bodies. She left us for a minute and returned with ice cubes. She was sure we were on fire as she rubbed the ice on our skin. I incoherently sobbed and she translated. “She wants you to stop.”
“She wants me to pull out?” he said surprised.
“No. Stay in, but just stay. Don’t move.” I cried my agreement, tears streaking my face.
I caught my breath and told him to take Noodle’s nipple in his mouth. He leaned over and sucked, his face disappearing into the pillow of her breast, his cock pumping wildly inside of me. I released around him, body and soul. Wildly he rode me, my bed screaming, our bodies wet with passion and exploded into me, shuddering and shaking like a sapling in a storm.
He stilled for a minute and I breathed in his soapy scent and kissed his neck. He nuzzled mine and started to move again. Slap, slap, slap. Noodle got up to pee and when she came out TN and I were still locked together and Downstairs Neighbor filled the doorway with his booming laugh. “What the fuck is going on!” he cackled.
He retreated to kitchen to make himself a drink and Noodle followed. TN and I remained in my room locked in our private embrace. She hugged DN like they were old friends and on the balcony she told him she’d have a coronary if he didn’t kiss her immediately. He obliged and a minute later TN and I joined them before tumbling around on the floor.
We never did end up getting those motherfucking waffles, but we did all go to breakfast. DN and Noodle on one side of the booth and TN and I on the other. Two couples having brunch to the casual observer, four sated individuals to those looking closer.
Noodle joked about how pleased she was that DN wasn’t some fat fuck who scratched his dirty balls all day long — I guess I’ve forgotten to mention that he’s tall, dark and handsome in his own right — and we laughed because DN said he did actually scratch his dirty balls all day long.
Then I ordered TN his apple juice for him when he went to wash his hands and had it delivered in a kiddie cup. I really am motherfucking funny.
Back home TN pulled me into his arms and gave me a warm hug as he announced he was leaving. He hugged Noodle goodbye and left and DN and I smoked on the balcony as she bustled around packing.
“Well, honey,” she said finally, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, “It’s been real.”
I stood and hugged her again and she kissed DN goodbye and left. My wonderful, beautiful, wicked smart, southern drawl tiger left the building and my bubble and I felt empty.
I open my entire life and heart to the internet, to my Internet Boyfriend, and thousands of strangers a month, but I am shy and vulnerable in real life. I don’t demand things that I know I should. I have a hard time truly opening up. This blog is a living, breathing part of me and Noodle knows it inside and out. She saw me stumble with TN and her resolve was true: she was never going to hurt me. She could never touch his cock, she said, because she could see how much I loved him even if he couldn’t. In fact, she was going to go one further and protect me.
I don’t have many protectors in my life, but she thinks I have one more besides her.
She saw what I see in The Neighbor. His charm and sweetness, his love for me. “He was so protective of you, Hy, despite the stupid shit that came out of his mouth. It’s incredibly obvious he cares about you. A lot. But it’s also clear that he has no idea what to do with you.”
She was also my voice, my friend and my playmate.
She was mellow to my intensity, soft where I was hard. She was fierce where I was vulnerable and my voice when I was silent. Her energy left a wake in my house and with my friends, my two funny neighbors who don’t usually meet women like us. I imagine I must be such a paragon of hedonism to them living their solitary, quiet lives, but I don’t care and I can’t help it and being this way has opened the door for someone like Noodle to walk through. A woman I’d never have met in real life.
And she talked to DN about me and The Neighbor, something I find strangely appealing. I feel comforted and cared about. Two people, not involved, weighing in on the TN-Hy saga. DN said “TN doesn’t know who he is. He’s learning everything he is through Hy.”
“I think you’re right,” she answered.
Now I’m having Noodle withdrawals, and a little TN withdrawals, too. I felt so loved and filled up with them here. She made magic out of a broken heart and loved on me like I’ve needed to be loved for so long. “You get fucked all the time, Hy, but do you ever get loved on?” she asked me.
It was an excellent question and I had to answer, “No. Not until you.”
Nope, not until you, Noodle. Thank you for everything this weekend. Thank you for twirling with me on the dance floor and never turning down the music. You are beautiful and sensual, your peridot eyes are lit from within, and you smell goddamned delicious. You are magical. And I am lucky to know you.