Nancy Nocome

What was it like fucking the planet. Well the first time was in her apartment. She was the messiest woman I had ever seen. Sloppy big titted girl. No where near Lavergnes massive orbs, but large, soft, and very pliable. The planet still had a waist and when she rode on top it was oh so pleasant. The planet had knees that could bend and she could ride me like a little fuck monkey at that time. Of course after our first bout she went in to the bathroom , walked out with a wet washrag and dropped it on my cock I guess I should have questioned just how tender and affectionate  she would be in the long haul. But then who knew how long that hall would be.

To come in the planet was always a messy affair. Of that there is no doubt. But come I did. While  I was dating the Planet that was always very satisfying. Especially when I would drop in on the Planet after a session with Nancy Nocome.   I call her that not because she never came but because I never came while with her.

Probably not much to mention in the way of a relationship although we did work together. Lavergne worked there as well so there was never a dull moment. Went home with her a few times. More often we spent quality time in my car in the parking lot across from where we worked. I don't think we ever really fucked to conclusion anywhere we were. Hers or mine. She would always interrupt. Later I found she had a female condition which might have made fucking painful for her. I would like to say it was because of the enormity of my prodigious appendage but I would  be spinning  quite the yarn there. She was short, carried some pounds, soft medium size tits that were always sensitive and delightful. Best memory of her was her smile and very blond hair with her blue eye's looking up at me as she took my cock in her mouth. I don't think she ever finished a blow job either. Strange time with her always. Big decision was whether to visit Janet Planet or Lavergne next. Because of our constantly unfinished business is why I always felt compelled to proceed to the next womanly delicacy. Best I can say is at least they were the beneficiaries of some powerful pent up energy.

      Yummy

      But how the Planet turns.

Lavergne

"Do what you want with me" she said.

So after pawing at her for hours in the Green Mill we were now we were up in my Studio Apartment downtown. There we stood with the city lights for illumination I finally had her blouse open, bra unhooked
revealing two of the largest breasts I have ever touched.Not freak porno tits, but real, warm large brown nippled and oh so soft. Sure I had admired them at the office, as had many of my co-workers, but
now my hands were on heaven.

 But what about the invitation to do to me what you want.....hmm. That could have been a night to remember.She was shy about the size of her breasts squeezing them between her arms as her hands were on my stomach as she eased  on to my cock. Oh those lovely breasts The sweet tight warmth of her enveloped me I loved when she rode on top. What a view. So I balled  her like a pinball machine. Made em bounce. I loved when I entered her from behind Those full breasts pressed down on the surface of the mattress flowing out from under her olive skinned shoulders.

When Lavergne and I fucked , we worked up a sweat. Sweet, slick sweaty olive skin and huge breasts. Nipples I could never get as erect as Rene's. But I did spend time trying. Now to my regret, not as much as I should have. Should have spent more hours doing anything I wanted to Lavergne, her tits, her ass, and less drinking with my knuckle head co workers and more fucking would make for sweeter memories.

But my last excursion into Lavergne was a prelude to the savage and raw emotions to come in the bush. I have known the company of women, but she was my favorite. Short statured olive skinned lass of amazing breast proportions totally in contrast to her tiny little behind. Showing up on her door at all hours of the evening to partake of her abundant charms. I enjoyed her thoroughly at every visit.

  Yet the last visit was was perhaps a rather revealing send off for me on my journey into the darkness. After having spent a few hours with the fair haired Pammy I lusted for some darker pleasures finally took her up, so to speak, of the open and standing offer to "do what you want to me". While mounted from behind I became perturbed that Lavergne would never remain on all fours denying my hands free reign upon her bosoms, but would always place her massive breasts and delicately cropped  black haired head on the mattress. So  I raised my aim that inch or two higher and plunged into the land forbidden by state law in Indiana. The land of my exile. So with a delightful view of Lavergne's ample breasts spilling out under her body I slowly and ever so gently pushed into her delightfully tiny and tight derrière. Then withdrew. Entered a little more. Then with withdrew again, till soon I was plunging deeply , savagely, to her guttural moaning and wailing like the little Italian/Irish banshee she was. That was the last woman I had before and throughout my marriage to the Planet. For my fidelity I have no regrets.

Fucking the Planet

Peter Planet

        Yet the Planets gravity was inescapable. There was something I needed there. We went out on dates. I pursued the Planet. We formed, after a long and intermittent courtship, a relationship. We worked in the same industry, knew the same people, and ran in the same circles. We seemed to enjoy each others company. We became a couple.

We seemed to share many of the same values. Spent more and more time together. I had found the same feelings, only more committed, that I had once shared with Rene. Dare I say it. I had found love again. There. The romantic in me has come out. I said it now, and I professed it then.

But I was not yet ready to give up some of my late night wanderings. The Planet was still small, light and young. I had developed other duskier, heavier, and more energetic appetites.

Planets laugh.... inhaled abruptly like a mad asthmatic child of eight gasping for life yet enjoying every forced inhalation like a one year stored orgasm of an eighteen year old boy  losing it before completing the long anticipated docking maneuver.

The Planet had plans of her own. Do I think it was all planned out or was it just general sloppiness in life.  Always so many things to do, places to go in the city. A well employed couple with time to have fun, time to work, time play and money to spend. How far ahead did the Planet really plan. That is something the Planet only knows. But I courted the Planet in earnest and with passion. As the courtship continued my other  women friends, who were used to my rather spontaneous visits would welcome me on the occasions  I showed at their doors and never ask about the passing of time. After all ,no promises had been made. The Planet received my time. The others received my lust. The Planet received my tenderness. The others received the harder parts of me. As I think back I must have believed myself to be....

Peter Planet

       Penis so big it too has its own gravitational field. Attracts many heavenly bodies that are compelled to spin around it and then on to it. Decaying orbits have never been so much fun.

But the memory of one in the hand and three in the bush inevitably brings me to the fond reminiscences of...

 Lavergne's Tits

The Professional

I always wondered if there was anything I could have done to change that, because I know I didn't do much at the time. Another of my many "what was I thinking moments". Now I was staring down Indiana. Only I still didn't know it


So I gave all to the immutable laws of commerce as creatively as I could. I set to amass money, cash, investments. With a life devoted entirely to work. Well almost. Time was spent at work , resting, or wasting time in the clubs and night time haunts searching for what I am not sure. Peace of mind . Hardly to be found in such places. For the most part I avoided entanglements
 
Sure there was the late night adventure with a fine slender women with her passed out boyfriend in the next room. I could hardly forgive my self as my hands caressed her tiny behind, moving her sweet moist enveloping lips into the optimal position for a proper side to side ride. For now I was in the embrace of women. Not like the sturdy Eastern European stock from the catholic schools. Girls I had madly groped on their parents back stairs in my younger days. Or my Rainbow girl, under my favorite tree in the park, endlessly kissing and fitting our young bodies together to maximize pleasurably frictions. Of course when the weather got cold my Rainbow dumped me for an older boy with a Firebird. I moved on from such things with the eleven years of growing up, growing together, and then apart with Rene. 


Now it was variety I craved, and what a delightful variety there is in this marvelous city. I worshiped at all shapes and sized altars in those years. How I did enjoy servicing those women. Adult encounters invariably led to the complete immersion and entwining of our naked bodies in apartments and homes through out the city. No more back stairs, or trees in the park for me. 


I was a professional.

Rene

Now Rene Abuduh, the planets predecessor. Younger, prettier, smarter than the Planet. In many ways a force to be reckoned with all her own, Youthful, wild as all teenage girls are. Still a child , yet coming to terms with her own womanhood and sexuality. But truly a party animal. Not conflicted with her youthful past as the planet was because we both existed in her youthful past. My youthful past. It should never be mistaken that Rene morphs into the Planet. Two very distinct and separate entities. Never to meet. What would ever happen to the universe if these two bodies would meet. What would be the consequences.

Tall, small breasted, large shapely behind that was underutilized and under appreciated by the younger me. 

My family always liked Rene. For why I can't be sure. When asked what caused our split I would have to attribute numerous factors. One being that we just plain grew apart, coupled with my work schedule which at times only allowed a few hours of sleep a night and her teaching career which allowed much more free time. Also my serious maiming that happened a few years before might not be something an attractive twenty three year old women would want to have to deal with the rest of her life. However she stuck with me through the worst of it and for that I shall always be grateful. Actually Always Grateful is kind of my middle name.

So Rene exited stage left never to be seen again.

The Planet

Janet Judith Planet

Now The Planet is so large she has her own gravitational field.

Plowing blindly through space absorbing all resources and recourses that get in her way. Although what she sup supped up does leave their marks on the planet, still she spins tirelessly through space. Constantly absorbing, never giving back much to the universe or the space she fills. Very selfish, looks out for herself, and is reborn. The Planet is the center of this universe. Of course. How could it be otherwise.

Janet's laugh.
Very memorable. Like.......

More on that latter.

Yet the planet started small. Not to small. Like many things with the planet, getting involved with her seemed like a good idea . My career had been prosperous, but my life was lacking. First met the planet shortly after Rene Abuduh was out of my life. I was in no hurry for involvement or orbiting. The planet was young. I was busy. The planet was attached. I was not. The planet was skinny, all breasts and big blue eyes under short cropped hair. I was bloated and beat. But we found each other in that crowded industry party bar. I was ready, on the rebound. She was almost ready. We would meet again after a few more orbits and some life travels. We parted with a final kiss that night.

I would not escape that easily.

Depressed?

There I was watching the news first thing in the morning which is certainly enough to make anyone a little queasy, but hey I have my coffee so everything will be O.K. At least I really don't think I will need the product that was being pitched to me via the airwaves anytime soon. They were doing the classic, you've got a problem, poor thing, but that's alright we can fix it for you with our drug. All well and good, except that the second half of this spot was the shill reading all the possible side effects. Of course I stress that possible is a key word. But back to our commercial. The montage of these happily drugged people continuing merrily on their way despite the voiceover backdrop of the looming implications of their continued drug use. Another telling warning was not to stop taking the drug quickly. Built in dependence and demand. Dare I say the perfect product with serious withdrawal implications.

So after hearing that list of maladies possibly caused by this little beauty I know I was depressed. But I cheered up immediately with the news story of a member of British royalty using the Pink Floyd defense of “I don’t know, I was really drunk at the time.” I felt much better then.

Life is a good and remember, “Without chemicals life itself would be impossible.”

Prelude

It was  Friday afternoon and I had a great sense of relief. I saw them all walking to the South Shore station and I knew what lay ahead of them. Herds of them filing into the underground . Lines and lines of them, heading out of their weekly veneer of civilization. Running away from the concrete, fine restaurants, theater, opera. All the finer things in life. Weekends they throw off these trappings and strip down to their basic, primordial selves. Oh how I shudder when I think of what goes on out there at any given moment. Why did I take that journey. What primitive and vile urge brought me to the very edge of my humanity. One thing I know. In Indiana...No one can hear you scream


I am a wiser man and have used as well as been used now. It is unfortunate that often it is unrealized at the time by all parties. But upon reflection ,after having pulled myself out of the wilderness, and looking back on the events there is no longer a need for forgiveness. What was done was done . Whether out of necessity of survival, or just basic animal instinct. Perhaps both the same. Is it the actions or the motivations that really matter? Or is it in fact only the results that count. Perhaps that is the true measure of my journey into Indiana.


What was it that brought people down that South Shore line, many on a daily basis. Others beginning on a day to day trek ,only to eventually be swallowed up, churned inside the guts of mills, industry, and eventually corn. None but the brave or foolish returned there to toil. The lure of cheap cigarettes, cheap property, low gas prices would seem to be the immediate and easy answer. There where also whispers of white trash trailer park women who could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, but most thought that was just rumor to draw the young males back to the corn fields. Whatever the draw, the land was ripe to be plundered as a century before the robber barons located their mills. They sang there song of the south drawing hundreds of thousands from Kentucky and Tennessee to labor in the newly industrialized lake front. In many ways the new migration out of the big city was much more insidious. To the point: what was it that drew me. But I have yet to mention


The Planet

A Sad Story

Well today I heard one of the truly sad stories of all my days. There are no redeeming factors. The first reaction for some might be “what were they thinking,” perhaps “I would never do that,“ or some other summary judgment  that we are all quick to make. I only feel sorrow for all who are involved. It is the kind of thing that only the living can carry. Some may think that better legislation would solve this. Or better education. Decisive retribution should be exacted to make an example and protect the innocent. But by all accounts the proper authorities were involved after the fact and none of the societal bug a boos, such as chemical misjudgments were ruled out. They just fucked up, Or did they? No willful negligence was indicated, I am sure that didn’t relieve the pain. Those of us on the outside find our ways to deal with someone else's misery. All such reactions are only the way we convince ourselves that bad things can never happen to us because we are such clever humans. But Fortuna can turn her frowning countenance on any of us at any time. Yes that means you. I know it means me.

This was a young couple. But everyone seems young to me except for you really cranky and or radiant old farts. You have chosen your countenance and so be it. I did not know this young couple, or neither had or have any desire to introduce myself. Any comfort or whatever I can offer would give little solace. This is a big city and the neighborly bit does not always go over so well. Especially since I don’t know them from squat, or they me. But if I ever do meet them and they feel the need to share their tragedy with me I will offer support and sympathy, and spare them my input by listening. I have nothing to add to ease or ameliorate their despair. Just listen without judgment would be my only contribution.

They were a problematic young couple by all reports from their landlord and neighbors, the usual parlance and trade of youth. They were an immigrant couple from different foreign lands and ended up here together joined in matrimony either before or after their newly formed human child was conceived. Such things matter much less with the advent of the more egalitarian property right laws as opposed to the paternal model of old. I am sure this little one was equipped with what has been identified as a soul, consciousness, energy, instructions from before, plan, or whatever your version of what we don’t know is. But it seems the mission was to visit shortly and change these young peoples life inalterably. We will leave predestination and or divine cosmic plans and the nagging free will impetuous to another day. I am altogether chagrinned and saddened by this tale to waste words arm wrestling over the trivial interpretations.

What I know. The young couple decided to shower together, they brought the one month old baby in to share the familial bathing, and the one month old child was dropped and left this earthly existence.

I can say no more but to grieve. I don’t know how I would deal with such a loss.

Do you?

Way to Work the Fags

It is a beautiful late summer day in Chicago. Cool and sunny after a summer that has had almost nonexistent heat and humidity. Compared to previous summers where the dead have piled up in refrigerator trucks, this has hardly been a summer at all. I am sitting waiting for a bus right across the street from the police station when this lanky, crew cut, and aviator shades sporting twenty or thirty something comes bounding across the street walks past and says “great way to work the fags”. Well I had no snappy comeback for that but I figured after he passed I would not have to give it a second thought. But then this numb skull back pedals and asks if I want something to drink. Now I know I look a little shabby these days, actually it has been a look I've spent a life time cultivating, income and prospects have had little effect on my exterior manifestations of cloth. But I said “no” abruptly since I was still trying to figure out the meaning and intention of the rather unorthodox ice breaker . Then, this meat popsicle says , “Are you sure” and I said “Positive” and I was left in peace to wait for my bus. Oh happy day.

This left me with a few moments to wonder just what would possess someone to say such a thing to a complete stranger sitting by a bus stop.

I mean, if you are looking for a way to be friendly a simple “hello” should suffice.

Perhaps a pick up line, and I am sure women have heard even more inane attempts spew forth from the mouths of my fellow men in our endless quest to get laid.

It has been my good fortune to have been acquainted with a few gay men and I could never see them using such a greeting even at their randiest. Maybe I have associated with your better class of homosexual.

If you are a street hustler, I don’t see that as a good way to drum up business.
There is the possibility that this person was an undercover cop trying a new technique, but I don’t see that as an effective way to entrap and entice an offer of illegal behavior.

Best answer I suppose is that this fellows was looking for a way to start up a brawl with somebody he had decided on the spot he didn't like and wanted to “put a whuppin” on. I see nothing to gain for me in this activity and I am glad the thought only entered my mind long after the verbal affront. Evolution is more apparent in some. Or perhaps age.

Truth be told I just don’t know and I just don’t care.

So I continued on to work as the personification of everything that's wrong with our human existence. Ignorance and apathy.

Who's Calling

One advantage of being phone fodder for corporate America in my spare time, is the opportunity to hear different answering machine messages across the country. Here is my favorite so far because it cuts to the chase:

“From my family to yours, we are looking to make some changes in 2009. So leave a message and if we don’t call you back, you are one of those changes.”

Subtle, no blaming, accusation, remorse. Just I don’t like things as they are and it is time to change. I don’t know anything about the history but I love concise thoughts and statements. I hope the person or persons to whom that was directed to got the message.

Just because you own a phone doesn't oblige you to talk with every numb nut that places a call to the number. Now I may be calling because they wanted a job and I was responding to them. But I didn't have to listen to three minutes of their favorite song. Nor did I have to listen to them mumble incoherently or worse yet actually sing their favorite song. Although I have heard some remarkable renditions. But at least I know this person will call back only if they choose to. I like those that take responsibility for their destiny.

Cell Phone Etiquette

Sometimes it just impossible to mind your own business when riding on public transportation. People just want to drag you into their lives while yapping on their cell phones. Now usually it is just the mundane day to day, but every so often one gets a glimpse into the really dark side of human nature. There are a million stories broadcast on the naked cell phone. This is one of them.
It all began as just a typical ride on the bus and the usual scene of a mom getting on the bus proceeded by a crying child. The only thing was that this was at a corner near one of the halls of justice in our fair city. I suppose the mothers first comment should have foretold the coming festivities, but a mom telling a toddler to “ Don’t worry, we will get that son of a bitch” could have meant anything from a rowdy playground mate to the child's paternal genetic material donor. But no, a blog plot that would not make.

Then the phone calls commenced and all the riders on the bus were privy to a skirt lifting to reveal the back story. No hushed conspiratorial tones here this conversation was played out in full playground voice. Here’s a synopsis.

Fresh out of court where this woman's significant other was being arraigned for an alleged assault on a taxi driver, this charge apparently was dropped, brought to light an outstanding warrant on another assault charge on someone named “Josh” who was a common acquaintance to this particular circle friends. We now have established the identity of said “son of bitch’ to be gotten, and a brief aside of the heart rendering tale of the child’s farewell to dad on the way to the lockup. This apparently caused some confusion and anxiety in the child hence the crying, which had thankfully subsiding as he observed his maternal role model spring into action to defend her family.

Apparently this first call sharing the details was a message left on a friends phone, ostensibly a prospective avenger. With the second call which was completed we unsuspecting bus passengers were introduced to the master plan. The heroine in our story had decided on a course of action. Find somebody to give her a few bruises and contusions so she could file a police report accusing the fiend we have learned to be“Josh” of this malicious act. One already known to have perpetrated the crime of filing an assault charge on her loved one. A course of action guaranteed to make every unfortunate victim of such non staged violent crimes cringe.

Then there was a long string of references to the violence that will be done to “Josh” in jail and the treatment his fellow felons would reward him with for “beating on a woman”, the graphic fantasy of Bobbitizing Joshes member, and glee of his contracting aids from the misuse by his fellow prisoners. The things children learn at their parents knee. The things we learn from taking public transportation in one half hour or less.

Now of course you may ask where was the good citizen on the bus to intervene in the plotting of an apparent illegal act, subjection of a minor to inappropriate language as well as inappropriate cell phone usage on public transportation. The answer is easy. The bitch is crazy and you try to avoid crazy people on public transportation. Do you really want to involve yourself in any way shape or form with this aberrant gene strain. Not me. But the question remains…how many others like her are out there?

Besides, I am sure she was just letting of steam in response to an emotional situation. She couldn’t be stupid enough to carry out such misguided course of action after sharing this plot with 25 people. Could she?

Time Management Ruined My Life

Yes I blame it all on Stevie Covey, and of course my ex wife. But not necessarily in that order. My ex wife at least brought some very special and wonderful moments and things into my life. Not so with Stevie. Both cases are examples of the joining together of two incompatible spirits. Both unions then have the potential for extreme disaster. Disaster is what both brought to me.

I had been what I would have felt as successful at the time. Had a good job, wife , two children. With all that comes with it. House, two cars, and the never-ending nagging feeling that I was not finding that elusive work life balance that was being touted, and still is to this day, although the pendulum has swung. Admittedly time management tools have been around since the human concept of time was refined. but in the latter half of the twentieth century it had become big business. With the explosion of media, it grew enormous. In the dawning age of internet access, people who would never have wandered into a book store in search of such a thing, hade it right on their desktop, soon to be literally in their laps. So with me it started on my desktop, and then ended up in my lap.

The people we spend most of our time with have a strong influence on us whether we admit it or not. So it was with my wife. With the growing of our family, the move further away from my friends, family, and work peers; to the center of my wife's desired center of family, friends, and where she wanted to be made me feel isolated and more dependent on her dreams. But that is a whole other story.

Her devotion to the self help guru's and enrichment programs, the evidence of which no doubt still sit on the books of the credit cards she bankrupted herself out of after eliminating me, the one with the income to enable such charges of fancy, I too did get sucked into that world. I became a believer caught up in her jet stream. I started planning my days, weeks, months. Set long range goals, daily tasks, master tasks, and began to keep an incomprehensible Journal. The journal of my demise.

I am sure it works well for some, but as usual I jumped in with both feet and ended up over my head. I was soon to be doomed to spend so much time planning, keeping track of what I had done and hadn’t done, and generally feeling bad about not accomplishing what In set out to do . It sent me spiraling into an ever widening maw of the abyss. Sure there was always the moment of sheer elation as I scratched off the completed tasks, which often made me feel empowered only to sink into the bliss of inaction. After all I completed what I wanted to accomplish that day. Never mind the millions of things that I should have done, been doing or just plain put off because the thought of doing them was more painful that the torture of not doing them. The tricks my brain plays on me often makes my jaw drop to the floor.

But when the jaw is on the floor, that is when the bugs run in.