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Green Eyes, Small Breasts
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I loved having her small perfect breast in my mouth...
But I'm starting this story at the end (or close to the end), instead of the beginning. Beginnings are always so imperfect, though endings can be messy as well.
Anyway, in the beginning there was light...
Shit. That's probably too far back.
Well, unless you count the morning sunlight streaming in through the fucking crack in the hotel blind and piercing my tightly shut eyelids and starting a ferocious headache somewhere between the second and last nerve on the left. I shouldn't be too hard on the sun though. After all the sun did not come to me last night (see, I could have started the story there, or then, whatever) and make me drink all those dry Bombay Sapphire martinis while puffing down a pack of Reds. That was really her fault. Or like Jimmy says, "it's my own damn fault." Or something like that. Too damn early and too hungover to properly quote a line from a song that I barely remember.
I thought that the divorce was finally behind me (us? a marriage is for two, but divorce is single right?), but no. Shit had to get stirred up. But I think last night was finally the end (see, endings are messy and imperfect, what did I tell you?). It had been a long time coming. Had to work hard to ruin that marriage. But with perseverance, I (we? once again, what the fuck) managed to do it. Papers were final the year before last, but sometimes this shit just drags on (see, I could have had that be the beginning, but no one wants to hear that shit).
This is how it is. I'm a happy go lucky type of guy. Fun to be with, but shit for long term. Just treading that fine line between confident man and arrogant asshole. I fall off that narrow beam on occasion (now that's a fucking Olympic event that needs to be held).
So there I was, relaxing while on travel for my job (well fuck, I guess I am starting it the night before sunlight gave me a cracking headache. Funny how these things happen. Bear with). Just unwinding in the hotel bar. Never should have answered the damn phone. But with a kid in college, and being out of town, emergencies do happen (and how come they always happen while out of town huh? riddle me that). So I answered. You would think I would know better (but see above - happy go lucky, not really a fast learner). Just the ex. Bitching about something going wrong in a house that wasn't mine and how it was my fault (for fuck's sake, I changed that water line 5 years ago and nary a problem till now? fuck woman, hire a damn plumber). So that's what I told her. To be more precise (and precision is a good thing right?), I told her that maybe if she hired a plumber to fix the line he could also snake a line up her ass and clean out the clog that was causing her so many problems.
Well, let me tell you. That went over like a turd on a filet (yeah, that's gross, but you got the point right?). Shit, she was screaming so damn loud you could hear her shrill voice coming out of the phone over the music in the hotel bar (might have been that Buffet song playing, perhaps that's why that song was stuck in my head). I remembered then that the city was fixing the sewer line in front of the hotel. So I walked out of the bar (didn't see that coming, doesn't every joke start with "I walked into a bar"?), excused myself to the guys working late, asked them if anyone was down the hole currently and tossed the phone. I could still hear her voice as it dropped down to the muck below. Fitting end (messy though - need I remind you of the second sentence up above?). Dudes just looked at me. Looked at the hole. One of them raddled off some Spanish and the others laughed. I just gave them a thumbs up and went back inside.
I was feeling rather light hearted at this point. A great weight off my chest. Figured I'd just get a new phone the next day, new number, new start (maybe not perfect, but definitely less messy than what I threw down the hole, beginnings remember?).
Anyway, to make a short story shorter, several more martinis later found me passed out in the room. So back to the beginning. With the light. No, not THAT beginning. The other one. Morning sunlight through the crack in the blinds, causing the throbbing (no, not that throbbing, get your mind out of the gutter, I'm trying to tell a story here) in my head that felt like 42 midgets were having a wild party in there and someone was screaming at them to turn the music down but they just waggled their ears and thumbed their noses in my general direction (why 42? it's the answer to everything that's why. Why midgets? Do you think 42 giants could have a party in there? My head isn't that big. Shit, now I'm thinking about that song, "short people got...").
I crawled out of bed, threw up a little in the sink, brushed teeth, hair (still there, good to know), downed some aspirin with a small bottle of gin I found in the frig, lighted up a cigarette and slapped some shoes on feet (now that's a good song). Oh yeah, and some pants. Got to remember the pants. They play a pivotal point in this story. Later though. Not at the beginning. Other than the fact that I had them on. That was important. But not pivotal (though really, if I hadn't put them I suppose this would be an entirely different story about how I got to spend some time with the fun fellows down at the local slammer. Not the story I'm telling now though. I bet some of you pervs would like to read that one).
The gin had taken a little of the edge of but I needed some food to hold it down. Maybe a bloody mary as well. It has veggies in it. Good for you. As this was a resort that the meetings were being held in (which they finished last night, but I was staying over for a few days, why not? It was winter back home and this was warm and sunny), they had an open bar area facing the ocean. Called the bartender over, ordered the Bloody Mary and sat back to relax.
He was gone for a while. When he came back I realized why. He had the most fragrant aroma of skunk about him. That's what I really needed.
"Just put it on the room. How much for some of what you're smoking?" (cause being direct is the only way to go).
"What you talking about?" (I added the "Willis" only in my head).
"Dude, I'm hungover and you're stoned. I'd like to be stoned. Can you help me out with that?" I slide a 20 over the bar, "That's for the drink, keep the rest."
He just looked at me with the long term pot head look (ain't it cute?), took the cash and left. I sipped the Bloody Mary, ate my veggies and watched the wind play with the waves. I noticed him on his phone, which reminded me of where my phone was. Messy ends. Imperfect beginnings.
He came back over and said quitely, "how much you looking for?"
"Enough for two nice joints. Some papers would be good to since I'm not from here and I'm too damn old to hollow out an apple."
He laughed at that one and I reminisced about days long past. He came along later and dropped off some munchies. They helped hold down the alcohol. Which was doing a fine job of keeping my head from splitting. Just a happy series of events all coalescing into a recuperating me. I got out a smoke after finishing the drink and walked down to the beach to enjoy it. Kicked off my sandles (I didn't really "strap shoes on my feet, though I suppose the "strap" over the sandles fits the description, but aren't we getting a bit picky at this point?) and waded in up to my knees. Warm water, light breeze, good buzz and little jewel colored fish investigating my toes. This day was getting better and better.
I turned around to see the friendly neighborhood bartender. "I've got enough for two fatties if you have $100."
Sure. Why not. Probably three times the going rate down here, but I didn't have to go anywhere or see anybody else.
"I got a break at 10. Meet you at your room on the check?"
He wandered off happy. I wandered off bemused. It was a while ago, but I used to be him. Another life ("another time" what is it with songs just popping into my head?). Headed south down the beach (shit, another). Nice place. Not jammed up next to other resorts or condos. Still had an hour to kill. Wandered further, rather aimlessly for a half hour. Came around a bend, and there it was, the prettiest little cove. Just trees 30 feet back from the water's edge. A reef 100 meters out. Nice and secluded. This would be a nice place to get stoned. Maybe take a stoned float.
I walked around the beach, over to the other side (no, not the Door's other side, just the other side of the beach) and saw it was more trees and no houses. Nice. I suspected not many people came all the way out here. You couldn't see around either end of the cove, might as well have been a deserted island. People probably came here during the weekend, but this being a Tuesday, not a soul in sight (but maybe a place for asylum for the soul?).
My buzz was starting to wear off and I realized I needed to get back in time to meet up with the bartender.
I got back to the room and I had just splashed some fresh water on my face when the knocking on the door started (no, thank goodness, not Heaven's door, not yet). Dude was there (no, not The Dude, just the dude, keep up and stop it). I let him in. He handed me a small bag and then some papers. I handed him some folded cash with a tip. He fanned it. Smiled and said, "Any time. I'm here all week" (Jesus, it wasn't that funny. Fuck, I said stop it).
Reminded me of college. Unwrapping a pretty little package, the smell wafting up. So like yet unlike taking a pretty little thing's panties off. Totally different smell though. This was pure skunk. Three fat buds. Sticky. No seeds. I figured I'd just roll it all, stash them with the smokes and be good to go.
After rolling them up into five skinny little joints, I had enough for about half a joint. Turns out rolling is not a skill you lose when you used to do it a lot. Like riding a bike. Though I was getting the feeling after the first hit that I did not want to try doing that right now. This was not my father's weed after all.
Headache gone, I collected a towel, sunscreen and a bottle of water and left to find that cove again. Time to bake in the sun and bake for real. Thankfully no one was there when it came back into sight. Spread out my towel and realized that I had not changed into a swim suit before leaving. That would teach me to smoke first and pack later. Not the first time I had made that mistake. Fuck it. Nude it was then. Rolled my clothes up into the bag, suncreened all the important bits (not my first time doing this either) and laid out with the bag as a pillow. Smoked my stuff (fuck, leave off the song references all ready) and drank some water.
Wind playing over my body, waves lapping at my toes. Good times (no, not bad times to follow, already had those). Pleasant little stoned day dreams. Just meandering through life. Somewhere in those thoughts I drifted off. In my dream I could see the whole cosmos spread before me. Knowing I could just reach out and take control of it. But when I tried, the strength was not there and the stars just pass through my hands. So I narrowed my vision to a single star. Tried to grab it, but it was a will 'o wisp, slipping away to the side as a sparkly blue jewel came into view. But alas, I could not grab that one either and instead I fell down, down, down into it. A formless blue void.
"You shan't have it you know. No matter how hard you try."
"Because control doesn't exist. Just your will."
-What can I do with my will then if not control?-
"You can change the world. Or at least your world."
-But you said there was no control-
"Indeed. Change is not control. You can only change you. Marinate on that for a while (really even in my stoned dreams?)."
Smartass. That was my thought upon waking. Nothing like a smartass subconscious to invade a pleasantly stoned morning. Luckily I had not burned anywhere important, but I was hot as hell. Tide going out, so I threaded my way through the sea urchins and dove in. Crystal clear water, 85 degrees. I swam out to the reef, rolled over and floated for a bit. Just hearing the mother whisper her breathing around me, holding me. I started swimming back in, just using a lazy breaststroke. Made it back, refreshed, threaded my way back through the urchins and sat down to dry. After a minute or so, my hands were dry enough so I pullout another joint and lit up. Nice day to sit here with just sunglasses on. No people (don't you just really get sick of people?).
When fuck, wouldn't you know it? A voice. A medium voice, from behind and to the left. Calm, inquisitive. Feminine.
I had plenty and could always get more, why not?
"Sure. I'd offer you a seat, but I seemed to have misplaced them."
"Mister, that's not all you've misplaced."
"Well, there is that." Since I've always had an exhibitionist streak, semi-private nudity has never bothered me. But being a gentlemen and all I pulled a corner of the towel up and over as I watched a blue green towel float down to the sand besides me. Then feet. Nicely formed toes with trimmed nails and rose colored paint. Reminded me of the Eddie Murphy movie where his character has a problem with staying with women who have ugly feet. These were nice feet. She had stopped there on the towel and I took the time to follow her lines upwards.
Finely boned ankles, a little gold chain around one with a charm I couldn't quite make out. Muscle definition in her calves without being muscular if you know what I mean. Her thighs were nicely toned, tanned, but mostly hidden behind a light gauzy wraparound. I could just make out a hint of a bikini bottom underneath. Her stomach was delious looking, A slight rounding, but a trim waist leading up to her bikini top, red and white striped. Just enough breast to identify her as a woman, as if the rest of her wouldn't have. I could see the top curve of her breasts and they were gorgeous.
Her neck was long and when I made it to her face, I found a sardonic smile in place though I couldn't see her eyes behind the dark rims of her sunglasses. Her dark brunette hair was pulled back in a pony tail and hung down past her shoulder blade, how far I could not tell.
"Certainly. You want some of this," I said holding out the joint. She lowered herself sweetly to the towel, sitting cross legged and took it from me. A small puff, then another and then a last longer suck. She handed it back to me while still holding it in. I must say, doing that did impressive things with her cleavage. The top wasn't tight, nor small, but perfectly accentuated her natural beauty. I must confess at this point to have a larger desire for small breasted women than large breasted women. Their breasts are often firm, yet supple. Maybe a slight bit of sag, but mostly holding their own against gravity. I love to see a small breasted woman wearing a dress without a bra so that when she leans forwards, knowing you're looking, that you can see her nipples and the curve.
So anyway, her holding her breath was doing impressive things with her cleavage, and her cleavage was doing impressive things to my dick. It'd had been awhile and I was very stoned and very happy. Stoned enough that I had not noticed what was happening, but she did.
"Mister, thanks for sharing, but you might want to do something with that. Something not involving me."
I looked blankly at her for a minute and then she lowered her sunglasses and looked pointedly down at my crotch. Her eyes were stunning. Bright green. Very very pretty eyes. All together quite a stunning little package.
I took the joint back, poked my dick down between my legs and covered up with the towel. Not really anything more to say at this point. I fished a couple of smokes out when the joint was gone, but she shook her head. So I lit one up and leaned back on one elbow to see her and the ocean at the same time. This was some good weed. I pleasantly did not give a fuck about anything at this point. Even the possibility of getting laid (which, come on, that is always in every guy's mind no matter how unlikely the scenario).
After a while she said, "I'm hot, gotta cool off," dropped the cover up and she walked down into the water. Her hair came halfway down her back by the way. It's dark brown color offering a nice contrast to her white, even with a tan, skin. Her ass did not disappoint either. Tight. Nice curve from her waist to her hips, then rounding out for the bottom of her ass. Her legs were great as well. I watched her swim for a bit, just enjoying the beauty of the ocean, clear water, a pretty woman in it.
I heard a buzzing from the small bag she had dropped, thought she might want to know and called out, "Your bag is ringing."
She swam back in, toweled her hands off and pulled out an i-phone. Swiped it and smiled. "Thanks for the smoke Mister. See you around."
And off she went, the other direction from where I had come. I watched her walk away, enjoying the sway of her hips.
I decided to head back and grab some lunch, maybe a couple of beers. There was a party at the resort tonight that I was thinking of going to. It'd been a while and watching that lovely young girl swim had given me some ideas of what I wanted to do.
By the time I was back at the hotel, I was no longer high, or buzzed and the hangover was trying to return. I sat at the bar and said, "Water and beer. Not together (just to be clear)."
"Nice, thanks for the hookup. Great way to start the day. Saved some for later, but I might need more. You up for that?"
"Sure. Just let me know and give me some time."
He brought the water and an ice cold beer. The water washed out the cotton mouth and the beer banished the headache before it could get started. It was lunch time so I ordered an octopus ceviche to go with another beer. Fresh and clean tasting. Enjoyed my lunch, headed back to room for some reading and promptly fell asleep in the sun by the open window with the ocean breeze blowing over me.
Woke up a couple hours later when the clouds covered over the sun. Looked like it was just time for the afternoon rain shower, pretty much a daily event here. Lit up another joint and got pleasantly high watching the rain come over the bay. Some days it was light, some days it was big heavy drops, soaking everything in sight. The frogs were going crazy (I'm here, fuck me, no me, hear me call, right here). It felt good to have the rain blowing in, not giving a fuck (or two even
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