My friend Sonia calls me up last night, soon after I had managed to finish counting the chickens. I… don’t count ships for falling asleep. I find them too heavy to lift them over the fence, and it usually takes me up to about 500 or so individuals and, well… chickens do fly by themselves. Anyways… She calls me up to update me with a very interesting and extremely important piece of information.
“Mowning, Glooowy”, I can almost see her sharpening her little red lips into - she knows too well - the successful attempt of calling me by the name that always makes me melt. Of course it’s not morning, but Sonia has just checked in at the luxurious hotel room in Moscow that her newly acquired disgustingly rich boyfriend had booked up for her. And sometimes she loves me just too much to take into account timezones and details like that. My friend Sonia likes to travel. It’s like her job, you know? She does that for a living. I mean, once a few months she finds herself some rich or annoyingly rich man, always a good looking one, whose only usefulness is to take her to all sorts of places. In exchange for a small amount of uhmm… attention… and the above mentioned little red lips.
So now she calls me in the middle of the night - which, of course, she does not acknowledge of being actually truly authentic night since it’s obviously something around 9 a.m. in Moscow - to tell me what a wonderful jacuzzi they have there in that room!
“It gives you a massage, Glowy!” she rejoices over the phone.
“Alright, Sonia, it gives you a massage. That’s… well… what most jacuzzis do. Or all, I am not so well acquainted with them, you should know better. Can I go back to bed now?”
“But GLowy, baby! This one gives you a rrrreal massage!” she giggles. Then she moans. Then she giggles some more and I can hear splashes of water. And more moaning. Wonder if her sponsor knows about the hand massage jacuzzi…
“Yeah, I can hear that now. Thanks for too much information you’re throwing at me… Is your disgustingly rich boyfriend the massaging hand we’re talking about here?”
“Well, guess what? My wonderful lover has just complimented me with these two young gorgeous african males that happen to have, each one of them, a diploma in body massage. And he’s having a wonderful time right now, enjoying the sight of me enjoying his gifts…” and the she giggles some more.
Somehow between some more splashes, giggles and moans I thing I hear her asking me to come over. Something like her man will pay for the flight and everything. It’s not like I would not enjoy a little vacation, and I would definitely enjoy Sonia as well as I did it lots of times before, it’s just that…
“Oh, c’mon girl! I thought that man of yours wanted you to have as much fun as you wish. And it’s not like you’re officially together. And never will be, pardon my sincerity! Why won’t you come?”
“No, thank you. Have fun, Sonia. Talk later”
I hang up on her. I don’t do that often, only when she gets to very sensitive spots inside me. The indistinguishable mass of meat next to me starts to fumble under the blankets. You only got to 523 chickens this evening, I say to myself while stretching an idiot smile between my ears and gazing at the tanned piece of male skin… He mumbles something like “What did she want this time?” I say “She wanted me to go over and have some four-fun. Or multiple-fun, dunno for sure”. “aha… so go. You know you can do that, baby” the meat yawns and rolls on the other side.”Yeah, I know…”
Yeah, I know. But I’d rather cuddle back, start the counting all over. Swallow a sigh and try not to think of the countdown.
The male meat breathes deeply…
You know, I never thought of a jacuzzi with african males in it.
I just thought “jacuzzi, yeah, want one”.
First thing’s first, isn’t it ?
And yeah, I still want more.
Always do, always will.