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Eyes Cast Downward- Memoir Excerpt

Originally hand written in July 2015 Late Spring of 2014.  Just Months before liver failure Our eyes are nearly always cast dow...

Thursday, August 20, 2015

My Roaring Twenties- Memoir Excerpt

Originally hand written 7-24-15

Niccolo is on his knees and my Chucks are about two feet apart with my faded blue jean mini skirt pulled up to my hip bones, my slick panties are tucked gently to the left by his index finger. 
We are behind the curtain in the back of his storeroom. 
Dusty records are overflowing in crates along the walls and every kind of musical instrument.
They are leaning in opportunely, the sole audience for Niccolo's grand lingual performance. 
Today he play's the labia and clitoris.
To harden Niccolo and to lubricate myself, we have a few forbidden taboos to pontificate. 
Niccolo owns Bad Bone Records and is expected to be out front.
 To greet and thank potential customers and I am to be 'assisting' him. 
I suppose I am, in an entirely different manner, may be more fun than the music! 
 Niccolo is married and is ten years my senior (his early thirties) and his wife is at home with a baby. Just to add to the twisted excitement, my then boyfriend Antonio and his mediocre psychobilly band is expected to be playing there sometime this week.
But alas, there he is drooling into my cunt. 
I'm so fucked up giddy I'm actually smiling at him as he stares up at me.
I hear him moaning what sounds like the alphabet underwater. 
Niccolo Grips my ass so taut he shoves me onto and partially into his eager mouth. 
All these beautiful things are combined with the anticipation for the eventual chime of the bell! 
The chime that will signify the front door opening. 
 With some music loving infiltrator waltzing into the vacant store. 
The only signs of life are "The Pixies" making proclamations on multiple speakers and the faint, distinct sound of nervous laughter coming from somewhere towards the back.
The bell chimes.

Niccolo awkwardly and a bit too abruptly attempted to get up off his knees.
He hits his beautiful black haired skull on a cymbal from a drum set.
 He lets an "Oh Fuck" fly out of his sexy mouth in a guttural whisper that was hardly a whisper at all. I find this all to be uproariously funny and I can’t stop giggling and smiling because we were to be quiet and it's all so damn naughty! This is the way I thought at twenty one years old. 
I fix my twisted panties and stand up as straight as I can.
I am ready to be told what to do. I loved being told what to do by Niccolo.

Once he gets his footing he pulls my skirt back down over my ass. Niccolo kisses me on the lips, the facial kind this time, then he runs his thumb and four fingers down his mouth and through his goatee. My clit pulsated as I watched this quick gesture of mock cleanliness.
 Wearing a grin that only a true master of cunnilingus could wear so incredibly well. 
He puts his finger to his lips, grinning "Shh..." and whispers come out when the customer leaves.
 I swooned a little, my knees were still weak and my clitoris was slick pebble between my thighs. 
He slaps my behind lovingly and rushes out the from behind the curtains.
I went into the small restroom and locked the door as quietly as I could. 
With my cheeks still stinging and my pussy still slick
Amused and in a hurry, I lifted one leg onto the sink.
 I glared at my reflection in the mirror and rubbed my clit till I came.

When I walked inside Bad Bone the next day Niccolo and his comrades greeted me as usual.
It was with a collective sing song "Mary, Mary, why ya buggin'?" 
 I curtsied and smiled then dared a glance at Niccolo. 
He was looking right back at me with that same masterful grin. I did not let my arousal show. 
I did what I did almost every time I got to Bad Bone when comrades were there.
 I shimmied my way across the store then sat on the couch in the corner. 
I crossed my legs, lit a cigarette and talked about music and listened to the boys talk over me. 
No harm no foul right? Such was life then. Simple, fun and full of Bone...Very Bad Bone.

Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen

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