DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #68 - what you are

⚠️ this entry contains explicit sex descriptions, and it sucks. I almost disown if for how bad it sucks. Sorry ⚠️

'Seriously, you're fucking sweet. My shepherds would love you'. He speaks, leaving a little kiss on my lips, as the doggo lays tummy first on the floor and begs for more cuddles. I giggle, I blush, I can feel my heart literally beating into my throat... when I hear Sean calling me 'fucking sweet'. Me, Cherry, not my job of the future. It's definitely not the first time he calls me 'sweet', but I swoon every single times he does it. He knows I'm a sweet, sweet girl, and instead of getting annoyed by that sappier side of me, he fuels it by being his own definition of sweet. But what's had me KO, way more KO than the little 'compliment' about my qualities, is that he's just told me he has shepherds. Shepherds as in ... dogs. German shepherds. In plural. Because he has more than one. And... same. I have two of 'em big, sweet, salivating boys back in my hometown. I don't know why the hell I'm only NOW learning that Sean has shepherds, but it makes so fucking much sense. Makes almost as much sense as his latent Irish heritage. That's why he's so nice and so hip ... it's because he's part Irish, and dog pappa of more than just one !

I'm swooning. Disbelieved. Stunned. Dead. Collapsed on his shoulder as all I can do is mumble a bunch of syllables that don't make sense. And blindly pet the pupper who's coating my leg with drool n'love. So much drool... and I only realise why so much drool, when I can see the Italian looking owner of the pup coming back from his stop at the toilet. He's grabbing the leash from my hands, and dragging his dog away with him. A quick wave at Sean and I, a hint of a smile on his lips, before he disappears with our new, furred friend, down the corridor of the Green River Mall. I frown a bit, I miss the pupper already... but then I remember that I'm between the arms of a man who loves animals and motorcycles, owner of shepherds and a Honda Four ... and I light up again.

'I would love your shepherds ! Cock Soup would love 'em too... they would love Cock Soup!' I squeal, far too excited at the thought of our pets getting along together. If we bring this little affair to Seattle, after this tour, I'll arrange something so that my cockatiel and his shepherds can finally meet. Cock Soup loves dogs, and he does the best fucking impression of the doggy bark. Makes the dogs think they're damn hallucinating everytime. Dogs love Cock Soup, they play with him, and they let him hitch rides anywhere. I love Sean, and seeing him in Seattle would be ideal. Seattle would feel even more like home, with him in town. And I don't know if I'm just being a hopeless romantic or if I'm being legit, but I can imagine us catching up at his place in Space Needle town. I can imagine us leaving our pets playing in his living room, while us humans play a bit in his bedroom. I can also imagine us playing in my tiny, tiny bedroom sack, smoking weed and listening to music for hours in a row, when we're done playing. But that ain't what I'm talking about right now, so I'll let this sweet thought slide ...

'They must all be cameras. Including me'. He jokes, as he helps me get back on my feet and follows me, as soon as I'm up. We are standing in front of the restroom in which we were supposed to fuck, but here we are ... being idiots. Especially him. Being an idiot, and cracking jokes on how anyone who loves anything must be a camera. He's still under the effect of my 'the camera loves me' and his 'I must be a camera then' of not so long ago, and it looks as though as we have unlocked another inside joke. Although I want copyright now! I deserve it! I was the one starting this inside joke, wasn't I ?

He ain't gonna give me copyright, he's the same guy who laid a groove that sounds identical to 'Waiting Room' by Fugazi, and most likely didn't give 'em any credits... but he can always give me a kiss, right? Right. Reason why I turn to his side, I throw my arms around his shoulders, and I bring my lips to his. Our tongues entwine, and our kiss feels mighty good... sweet, slow, and all passionate. Until I start to trail my fingers between his wavy strands, and he startles himself up. He gives me that look, a butt squeeze to let me know that he's feeling it again, and he begins to kiss the fuck out of me. 'Til I can tell my tongue from his no more. 'Til I can feel his hard, hard bulge pressing against my thigh, almost begging to be released by me. By me, out of all the hot as fuck chicks strolling through the corridor with shopping bags in their hands ... oh fuck, I'm such a lucky chick. And I know it.