CORRECTIONS OF THE PAST

Whose P*£ is it?

A day to remember often gets pinned to our blacked-out calendars and placed in our phones in case our memory doesn't remember to remind us. It's a day you normally set alarms for more than once. One you dress sharply for from head to toe. Matching your accessories and making sure your hair bounces with the perfect curls or lays straight with the perfect braids. Eyebrows are done manicures and pedicures as well even if the feet can't be shown. Showers are longer as you lather and pay extra attention to every area of your body wanting to look your best. Perfume and oils sprayed as you look over yourself in the mirror and give yourself a pep talk. A day your overly excited for and one you can't wait to happen. You imagine it in your mind and set the plan in motion down to a tee. You know it's happening so there aren't any hiccups.

I didn't need alarms or calendar block outs my phone never even came out. It was unattended and not once did I miss it. When I left my house, I was the complete opposite of a person with a special day about to happen. My hair was thrown under one of my hats. I had sweatpants on with an oversized sweatshirt and sneakers. I grabbed the purse I had used earlier for work that was dressier than the outfit I had on and one that would make people question its authenticity due to my wardrobe of choice. I walked to my Jeep jumped in and drove off trying to calm myself down as I have done plenty of times before. But this night I noticed the new bar in my neighborhood had finally opened and looking at the time I figured anyone with a decent job would be home in their bed getting the sleep they needed for the next workday that is everyone but me. Parking I decided to go in have a few rounds and head back home. This day wasn't burrowed in my mind. But after this night it burrowed a space within me. Like the aliens did in the movie where the humans didn't know anything was wrong until their skin started moving and then their stomachs grew bigger and bigger eventually exploding with the alien baby. That kind of day that makes you question your life and your very existence in it.

This meeting was by chance with the quick hook up of a woman who was over her marriage and sexually frustrated. A few drinks, smiles and some nice choice words along with the mutual swapped stories of fucked up marriages led to the purchase of a short stay.

My insides were rearranged, my throat was stretched sideways, my legs were spread ever so slowly apart with each thrust that I would have sworn I had braces on them the way they adjusted to the new degrees Zac created for them. And the music I can't forget how I was an alto but baby I sang in soprano that night. My chest heaved covered in sweat as every inch of my body was touched and I felt like a zillion pleasure spots were activated all at once. My toes pointed out at the perfect ballerina degree, signaling my legs to lock into a stripper pole death grip, as my thighs started a one-two step shake back and forth causing my pussy  to shoot like a fire hydrant recently opened and my stomach was swallowed in from the knots that tugged at them like a mother who recently gave birth, and her cervix is pulling to go back to normal. My elbows elevated me into a ready to push stance while my fingers gripped the sheets to hold me down as I half expected them to, and my breast swelled from constant pressure. My head found itself in a hangover slump as drool dropped from my mouth through clenched teeth as I spoke made up words, I know damn well I couldn't find in any dictionary. Snatched from me was my soul and body elevated off the bed like a "God" into euphoria. And once I settled down, I was left shaking like a crack head whose been in rehab for a few days curled in a ball begging please.

When I finally came too I did so in a pool of my own drool lifting my head I looked from left to right listening for any sound of the man who had J. Holiday "Put me to bed". But I was met with silence Zac was gone. Sucking my teeth, I attempted to stand and when my first foot touched the ground that saying, "be the kind of woman who, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the devil says "Oh, no! She's up." Yeah well, I was about to be on one. As I gathered the strength to place the other foot down, I wobbled like a pregnant woman in her last days of pregnancy to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet I winced as the piss passed along all the new abrasions and torn pussy meat that was intact upon my entrance into room 118. I'm sure now it looked like pulled pork that wasn't smoked the right way hanging. Flushing the toilet, I stood and turned looking at myself in the mirror.  My face was flushed red my hair was all over standing up giving the illusion I was electrocuted. My lips were chapped, and the right side had a cut where your lips are separated by your face. What the fuck are you doing Fatima I said?  I grabbed at my throat from the burning sensation, I knew I was sure to experience as I tried to swallow a damn sword in my little petite I can't even open wide enough for a sausage mouth.  I quickly turned on the faucet cupping my hands I brought a handful of water to my mouth. Attempting to gargle trying to alleviate some of the pain until I could get to a pharmacy.

Turning my nose up I smelled what I assumed was Pu-dussy I turned the faucets off walking over to the walk-in shower.  Turning the knob to hot I grabbed a hanging rag closing the glass shower doors and leaned my head back into the welcoming warm water that seemed to soothe every ache and pain I was now feeling. Looking for something to cleanse my body with I noticed the little complimentary soaps grabbing one I tore the packaging off tossing it aside I lathered up the rag as good as it would get and begin washing my body. Once I reached my pussy I don't know if I was more scared to touch it because of the tingling pain I was feeling or if it was the fear of everything that I did tonight that had me in a chokehold like a crackhead wanting more please.  All I know is as I washed every inch of my body a flashback followed of everything Zac had done to me. When I turned off the water and stepped out grabbing a towel, I realized my throat started feeling better as did the rest of my body. Shaking my head, I laughed out loud Damn Zac I want more whose pussy is this anyways yours or mine

After tonight I would think you would say mine Fatima