The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Twenty-One – Cheering Up

I need some cheering up. It’s Saturday afternoon and I’m still not close to landing a replacement job. I realize it’s been less than a week, but there’s got to be something out there for me, right?

Uh, maybe not. Maybe there isn’t anything out there for me right now.

I mean, I’m not going to become a high class drug dealer and follow Sam’s footsteps. I have standards! I’m more willing to go back to that God-forsaken temporary staffing place than sell dope to the rich and famous.

Sheesh. I really need some cheering up.

And I think I know the precise medicine: spending another night with Cindi.

Oh, Cindi. You are so beautiful. Tall, muscular, powerful, sexually confident, compassionate, funny, intelligent, gentle…you get it. She’s awesome. So fucking awesome.

God, I need some Cindi North right now! Like, right now! This very instant.

Now.

But it’s Saturday afternoon, so I’m just a few hours closer to seeing the Divine Muscle Goddess again. I promised last time that I’d bring something other than a bottle of wine, so I better keep that promise. What should I bring? I think something healthy and delicious will give me bonus points with her. Let’s check out what the interwebs can tell me…

Hmmm. Gluten-free Yorkshire pudding? Yuck. That doesn’t sound too appetizing.

I don’t think I should do anything with meat. I’m sure Cindi loves a good steak like anybody else, but she said something healthy, so I better stick to the script on this one. How about…

Oh! Here it is! “Curried couscous and red pepper salad.” That sounds delectable. In fact, that sounds pretty darn good. I think I’ll make that.

I run down the street to the store and buy all the necessary ingredients. While standing in the check-out line I see a former co-worker from Wellford Fitness Center and divert my eyes in order to prevent him from seeing me. When I see him leave, I begin to wonder: does everybody know about me and Michelle? Does everyone there know we got fired because we were caught by the boss going at it like dogs at 10:30 in the morning?

No doubt, but I still don’t want to be seen in public by any of them. Granted, I have nothing to be ashamed about. I mean, what straight guy wouldn’t be proud to have had sex with a gorgeous blonde like Michelle? I’d shake the hand of the guy who’s lucky enough to score someone as hot as her.

Which makes me also wonder: In the past few weeks, I’ve been with a strong female bodybuilder AND a hot blonde. Just thinking about that makes me smile with pride. Knowing I was a virgin not so long ago nearly makes me laugh out loud.

As I prepare this couscous salad, it starts to sink in that I’m going to see the Lovely Muscle Angel in less than three hours. She didn’t give me a specific time to show up, but I’m going to assume 5 o’clock should be acceptable.

The clock on the wall says 4:38. Time to go!

I quickly wrap the bowl of curried couscous and red pepper salad (which I tasted before to make sure it’s good) in plastic wrapping and scurry out the door excitedly. It’s not every day you get to meet up with an amazing muscle woman like Miss Cindi North!

The drive up to Everett zooms by quicker than a fat kid eating a Twinkie (yes, I just used this lousy analogy. Live with it). I decide to go the speed limit instead of flooring the pedal because I can’t afford to get a speeding ticket at this time. I’m broke and unemployed. A fine from Johnny Law would not bode well for me.

When I arrive at her house I notice not a single car is parked near her driveway. Is she not here yet? I’m here a bit before 5 p.m., but she should be expecting me. Maybe she parked her car in her garage. That’s always a possibility.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye I see a trashy blue sedan park right in front of me. I look forward and see a big, burly dark haired woman sitting in the driver’s seat. Yup, that’s her alright!

We both get out of our cars and lock our doors simultaneously. We stare at each other and smile unapologetically.

“Ryan! It’s good to see you! Were you waiting for me for a long time?”

“No. I just got here, literally a minute ago. No, you’re fine.”

Carrying two large grocery bags, Cindi looks as stunning as ever. Dressed in a tight pink top and baggy dark green sweat pants, she seems to become more muscular every time I see her. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Cindi North’s body will never cease to amaze me. Never.

“Come on in. I just did some shopping for dinner tonight. And other things, of course. It’s convenient when the store is right across the street from the gym.”

“I know the feeling.”

Cindi escorts us inside her house. I shut the door close behind me. She immediately heads over to the kitchen to put her groceries away. I follow her, clutching my bowl of curried couscous and red pepper salad tightly in my arms.

“What did you bring, lover?” Cindi asks while putting items away in the refrigerator.

“I made a salad. Something healthy. I hope you like it. It’s a curried couscous and red pepper salad. I tasted it ahead of time. It’s quite good.”

“Wow! That sounds incredible. I can’t wait to try it.” Placing several cans of tomato sauce into a cupboard, Cindi seems to be in a more festive mood than usual.

“You seem upbeat, Cindi. Dare I ask why?”

“Do I? I guess I do feel a bit snazzier tonight. Maybe it’s because I just a modeling job this morning!”

“Really? You got a modeling job? Congratulations. That sounds like a fantastic opportunity.”

“It really is. It’s with this new modeling agency that specializes in featuring unorthodox and nontraditional types of models. As a female bodybuilder, I guess I fit that bill.” Cindi is now pouring salt and extra virgin olive oil into a large soup pot. She turns the stove on to “medium” and takes more items out of her grocery bags, including various vegetables and spices.

“Well, you are a nontraditional looking woman. Not too many ladies around here have as much muscle as you, I must say.” My mouth becomes dry as I scan up and down her buff body.

“Yeah, this is true. I’m happy to get the exposure that comes from modeling. I know they’re a small company and I’m just one of many models they’ve hired, but I get a feeling this is the start of something special!”

An hour later, Cindi puts the finishing touches on dinner. We end up eating a lovely leek and spinach tomato stew served with my salad and a freshly baked baguette. Toward the end of dinner Cindi brings out a delightful bottle of merlot that we nearly finish all at once. A good time was had by all.

“That was delicious, Cindi.”

“Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it. This was a recipe I got from Julie.” Cindi and I clean up the dining table and place our dishes in the sink. I courteously give them a good rinse.

“What’s Julie up to these days?”

“She’s doing great. She’s training for a major competition that I’m going to skip this year. I’ve won it before and I don’t need to win it again. I feel like if I don’t compete she’ll have a better chance of winning.”

“So you think you’ll win again if you decided to compete?”

Cindi turns toward me and stares at me straight into the eyes. Her face is deadly serious.

“Of course. I always win. I’m practically letting her win.”

Silence.

We both burst out laughing. This is what I LOVE about Cindi North. She’s big, strong and tough as nails but she has a huge soft spot underneath all her layers of muscle and brawn. We share a kiss after our laughter dies out.

“You taste delicious, Ryan.” Cindi licks her lips, tasting my essence.

“You taste like leeks,” I deadpan.

Cindi giggles and kisses me again, this time deeper and with more passion. I feel her tongue piercing inside my mouth, exploring me feverously.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Cindi whispers into my ear. I nod my head in agreement. And with that, we walk hand-in-hand up to her bedroom, as if we’ve done this many times before. In a strange and unusual way, it genuinely feels like we’ve done this a million times in the past. I can’t explain why, but this feels SOOOOOOOO right.

We enter her bedroom and instantaneously begin our mating ritual. She closes the blinds and I close the door. We simultaneously turn toward each other and begin our stare-down, like two scruffy gunslingers in the Old West. Cindi walks to me and wraps her strong arms around my entire body. I quiver at the feeling of her vascular, veiny arms poking into my softer skin. I feel my manhood harden as I have to look up to reach her lips.

We kiss. Again. And again, and again, and again. We love kissing. Next to coital penetration, it might be our favorite shared physical activity.

After a moment of stillness, Cindi lifts my shirt over my head and starts kissing my stomach and moves up to my chest and neck. I reach down and pull her sweatpants down, fondling her massive legs one thigh at a time. I feel the deep curves within her strong quads and shiver at their thickness. Cindi licks my Adam’s apple, causing me to squirm in response. She massages the back of my neck in an effort to relax me.

“You smell so good right now,” I whisper into the open. Cindi answers back by gently biting into my shoulder. I tremble as her teeth lovingly sink into my flesh.

Cindi unilaterally strips off her pink top, revealing her wide chest. She’s not wearing a bra, so I immediately suck on her left nipple and stroke the other with my fingertips. Cindi unzips my pants and pulls them down toward my ankles. I kick them away and bend down to remove my socks. Barefoot, Cindi is left wearing nothing but lacy white panties which are already soaking wet. I feel her vulva to get a better sense of her feminine moisture. She smiles.

“I was ready half way through dinner,” she chuckles.

“Why didn’t we starting doing it then?” I ask.

“I wanted to eat first.”

“Well…I want to eat NOW.” I bend down and pull down her panties and begin licking her vulva with all the strength of my tongue. Cindi laughs at my terrible joke but stops when she feels my tongue explore the inside of her intimate parts.

“Make me come, Ryan. Make my come!” Cindi commands, standing there as naked as the day she was born.

I push Cindi onto the bed and she flops down on her back. Surprised at my unexpected display of brute strength, she moans delightfully as I continue to orally satisfy her. Her large clitoris stands at attention, her “little penis” occupying more and more of my attention. I get the feeling Cindi likes a man who takes control in bed. Though I may not be the most experienced lover in the world, I’ve learned a lot in the past few weeks and I’m becoming more comfortable taking the lead.

I grip her hips firmly as my tongue continues to please her beautiful vulva. I then fully concentrate on her clitoris in order to bring her to orgasm. Cindi’s breathing quickens as I continue to massage her girly penis. I stick my right index finger inside of her and find her g-spot.

“Ryan! I love you, Ryan!” Cindi candidly yells out in the heat of passion. Her gorgeous clitoris takes one final tongue lashing before Cindi finally climaxes. I press onto her g-spot when I sense she’s successfully reached her moment of ecstasy.

“Ohhhh!!!!!!” Cindi moans, expressing her pleasure unashamedly. Her vaginal walls contract rhythmically as a modest amount of white milky fluid gradually drips out of her, staining her bedspread.

I remain still as Cindi finishes wriggling around the bed, enjoying the aftershocks of her pleasure. Her breathing subsides to normalcy as my erection lays across her right thigh, ready to be pleased. I lean over and kiss her eight-pack abs, one individual ab at a time. I lick her bellybutton as well.

She briefly starts to stroke my penis, forcing a small drip of clear fluid to escape from it. But Cindi decides now is not the time to satisfy me yet. She gets up in a sitting position and wipes a small amount of vaginal juice that leaked onto her bottom. She kisses me again, sending electric jolts running through my entire system. Her hands explore my hands as her large, strong fingers interlock with my smaller, softer fingers. We look at each other.

“Before I satisfy you, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything, Cindi. I’ll do anything. Just ask.”

Cindi kisses me again, firmly grabbing both of my hands. She takes a few of my fingers into her mouth and sucks on them sensually. I feel like my erection is about to explode, but I contain my excitement and enjoy the pleasure she is giving me.

She leans over and nibbles on my ear. She rubs her saliva onto my fingers.

“Fist me,” she whispers.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Twenty – Tales from the Unemployment Line

Fired? Holy shit.

Really? Me? Fired from my job???

This doesn’t happen to people like me. This happens to OTHER people. You know, people who are lazy, incompetent, under-qualified or rude.

Not smart, studious, polite Asian guys like ME!

Motherfucker…

It’s been nearly two hours since I was fired from my annoying but stable job at Wellford Fitness Center. Here I am, lying in bed, eyes glazed over and a million thoughts running through my mind. Did I really just get fired for doing what I just did?

I mean, I got fired because I was caught having sex with one of my fellow employees. And not just any employee, for the record. I got caught by my boss having sex with Michelle, a hot perfect blonde. Michelle is the type of girl I could NEVER get in a billion years. She’s the type of girl every guy fantasizes about. She’s the type who gets muscle jerks like Big Danny, not awkward Asian guys like Ryan Takahashi.

I wonder what Michelle is thinking right now. Is she thinking “Gee, I’m such an idiot! I got fired for screwing Ryan! WTF????”

Or is she getting drunk right now? Or did she decide to go back to Big Danny out of desperation? Gosh, I hope not…

Oh well. She’s a wonderful personal trainer and one of the most gorgeous human beings on planet Earth. I’m sure she won’t have any problem finding another job.

Me, on the other hand, will have a much tougher time. I’m not as cute as her or as skilled in the fitness industry.

If only there were jobs for history majors just flying off the shelves. That would be convenient.

So, the next day I immediately start applying for jobs. I wake up at 8 a.m. sharp (which, believe it or not, is sleeping in for me!) and search the usual online job databases for attractive openings. Twelve cover letters later, I look up at my clock and see it is 11:27 a.m.

Time for lunch!

Because I’m strapped for cash, I’m going to have to resort to a boring peanut butter and jelly sandwich, baked potato chips and whatever cheap beer I have in the refrigerator. Ah, yes. The life of being unemployed. Oh joy. I can hardly contain my excitement.

Blah.

It’s a very surreal experience. I’m still – even 24 hours later – completely in shock over how I lost my job. I lost my job at the peak of orgasm. I was fired the moment my boss saw me and Michelle nearly consummate our impromptu coupling session. Even thinking about it gives me the chills. I still wonder what Michelle is doing right now. Is she agonizing over her poor decision to let her vagina (and my penis) get in the way of maintaining a paid job? Or has she been hired right off the bat by some other gym?

God only knows.

After lunch, I decide to take a stroll down the street and inspect the local businesses. I might strike gold and discover one of them is hiring. Stranger things have happened. There are plenty of cute little boutiques, shops and restaurants around here that might be hiring this very instant. This could be my lucky day.

Enjoying a sunny but chilly early afternoon, I see no one has a “NOW HIRING” sign hung up on their door. Well, shoot. Seattle is a large city after all, so there’s no use being down in the dumps quite yet.

Of course, I always have Sam’s proposition on the table. You know…being a high class drug dealer.

Holy shit. The fact that this crossed my mind is making me shudder. I need to stop thinking about this! Because the more I think about it, the more likely I’ll end up rationalizing a reason to take him up on his offer. And thoughts have a funny way of becoming reality if you’re not careful.

Hm. Nothing is around here. Just endless businesses with all their employment needs met. No signs of desperate storeowners needing a helping hand. No damsels in distress willing to pay me a million bucks to save her from danger. Nothing of the sorts.

Damn.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see a business called “Cascade Temporary Staffing.” Uh huh. Temporary staffing. Well, I guess a few temp jobs here and there wouldn’t hurt. I’m not hurting for money, but a little extra green in the bank certainly could help me get through the holiday season. This could also be a great way to get my foot in the door with a great company. Gee, maybe I should inquire within and see what opportunities they have available!

And that’s exactly what I do.

I walk inside the building and see a long line. A verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry long line. Holy cow! There must be at least 40 or 50 people here! All they’re doing is waiting, carrying their résumés and hoping for a shot at a decent job.

Wow, it’s really sad in here.

This economy definitely is not improving at the rate we’d all hope. This explains the long line. Although I didn’t bring a CV or anything, but I’m here and I have some time to kill, so I guess there’s no harm in waiting in line with the rest of these folks. Who knows? I might walk out of here with a job interview in my pocket. You never know…

(Time passes)

25 minutes later, I think I’ve moved maybe nine feet. There’s about four or five dozen people here and only two Cascade Temporary Staffing employees helping us all. Gee, how ironic is it when a staffing agency is understaffed?

Meanwhile, I have nothing to do but overhear the colorful conversations of the people both in front and behind me. I must say, random people talking about random nonsense can be the most entertaining thing you’ll ever witness. For example, here’s a sample of a conversation between two teenage girls, one dressed like a biker chick and the other looking like she bought all her clothes at a Value Village blow-out sale.

Girl 1: You’re not going to believe this. Holy fucking shit.

Girl 2: What is it?

Girl 1: You know that guy I was with for a while? Craig?

Girl 2: Yeah. What about him?

Girl 1: He got arrested yesterday. And he just texted me. Do you know who his cellmate is?

Girl 2: Who?

Girl 1: My baby’s daddy. Holy fuck! That shit is fucking messed up.

Girl 2: Fuck.

Girl 1: My ex is cellmates with my baby’s daddy. Holy shit.

Girl 2: Yeah, girl.

Seriously. This is the crap I have to listen to in this God-forsaken unemployment line. I don’t want to sound too condescending, but I’m going to guess that neither of these ladies (both of whom couldn’t be older than 16 or 17) have a college degree or any employable skills beyond gossiping, getting pregnant and texting.

SMH.

Oh my God! Am I using Internet-speak? Am I degrading two people I don’t even know for having no “employable skills” when I just got fired for doing it doggy-style with a female co-worker? I am in no position to judge.

This is what unemployment does to you. It kicks your sense of self-worth out the door.

Finally, after what seems like a whole hour (but it was only about 40 minutes), I get to the front of the line and have the chance to speak to a staffing agent. The guy is named Stephen and he looks bored to death. Hey, I don’t blame him one bit. This place is a depressing cesspool full of desperate, jobless folks who would rather be somewhere else. If I worked here, I’d jump off a bridge in no time!

“Did you bring your résumé with you, Mr. Takahashi?”

“No, I did not. I came here on a whim.”

“In that case, fill out these forms and turn them in to window #5, please. Then we’ll process it and schedule a real face-to-face interview sometime next week.”

Stephen points to window #5, which is being manned by a guy who looks even more depressed than him. Boy! This place is giving me bad vibes.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. No problem. Next!”

I walk away and find a chair in the waiting area. I thumb through the application papers, looking for what type of information they need from me. Holy cow. There must be at least thirty pages here! They’re asking for all my employment history, school records, criminal history, opinions about workplace ethics, professional AND personal references and writing samples. It even includes a math quiz (Really? Just because I’m Asian doesn’t mean I can do math!) and a personality test.

Oh. My. God. I REALLY don’t want to fill out all this crap. Seriously. Can’t someone just give me a job already? It’s only been one day and I’m already sounding as emo as a middle school kid playing with a razor blade in my mom’s minivan. Do they really expect me to fill out all this today?

You know what? Screw this. Screw this!

I get up from my chair, dump the application on the floor, give Stephen the “evil eye” and storm out the door. I don’t need this. Seriously, I don’t. I’m not going to fill out my entire life’s history just so I can get a temp job being an accountant at some disease-ridden hellhole. I need to be doing something where I feel useful, not where I’m disposable.

Yes, I just burned a bridge, but it’s nothing major and I’m sure this will not come back to haunt me anytime soon. I’ll just keep strolling down this street and see what else comes up.

Hm….

Nothing much yet. Now I’m outside the business area and moving into a residential neighborhood. I don’t think anyone around here is hiring. God…I’m depressed right now.

Like, really depressed. I don’t know why, but this entire week has been one big blur. One moment I have a stable job, the next moment I’m having sex with a gorgeous female bodybuilder, then all of a sudden I’m unemployed and on the verge of being broke.

Whew. I need a drink. I need some whiskey.

As I sulk around this particular neighborhood, I’m instantly reminded of a time when I was a child and I was the last kid picked to play kickball during recess. As I stood in the field, waiting for the ball to ever get to me, I didn’t feel happy that I was playing with my “friends.” I was sad because they thought so low of me that they chose me last, even after all the girls! I forced a smile and did my best, which wasn’t much.

I feel a lot like that now. I feel like Life has chosen me last to play kickball. I feel like Life would rather take any of those people waiting in line in front of me back there than little old Ryan. I get the sense that Life is looking down upon me and laughing at my expense.

Life would rather help out those two girls and the incarcerated baby’s daddy than me.

My melancholy daydream breaks when I hear a dog barking at me. Furious that I’ve trespassed onto “his” sidewalk, I turn around and decide to go back home. There’s nothing for me here. My best chance of landing a decent job is finding one online, not wandering around aimlessly hoping to win the employment lottery.

And to think I wasted 40 minutes of my life waiting in that bloody unemployment line. I could have been doing something more productive like watching TV, jogging, eating, sleeping, masturbating or taking a long crap.

Speaking of taking a long crap (which is such a pleasant thought, by the way), I REALLY need to pee. It truly is time to go home.

But this time, I’m not going to wait around for anyone to pick me for kickball. I’m starting MY OWN team!

Onward! And onto bigger and better things!!!

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Nineteen – Fired

Sure enough, I was very sore the next day. Come Monday morning, I could barely get out of bed without being reminded of my aching pelvis.

Oh well. That’s a small price to pay for experiencing the greatest night of my life.

The greatest night of my life. Yes…I can actually say that. It truly was the greatest single night of my life. The morning afterward wasn’t bad either.

But alas, I have to go to work because that’s what responsible adults do. So here I am, it’s 10:26 a.m. and I’m stuck in the laundry room cleaning sweat towels nobody bothered to do anything about yesterday. This is not an unusual occurrence.

Ho hum. What to do? I have to wait a whole week till I can see Cindi again. Damn. That’s going to be hard. All I can think about is Cindi North and the carnal activities we shared on Saturday night. I bet if I told every single person here at Wellford Fitness Center I had sex with a female bodybuilder this past weekend, none of them would believe me.

Who cares? I know it’s true and that’s all that matters.

Michelle, the cute receptionist/personal trainer whom every guy here wants to bang, enters the laundry room carrying a whole new batch of dirty towels. Good God, how many are there? I can’t remember the last time I had to clean so many at once. Is there a sweat epidemic going on around here?

“Here you go. Sorry, Ryan.” Michelle sets the basket down on a table next to me.

“No problem. It’s my job. Are there more people than usual here today?”

“Yes, I think so. I had four clients show up already. That almost never happens.”

“Hm.” My monotonous response is borne out of the dread of having to smell more people’s drippings. Will this madness ever stop?

Michelle prepares to leave but stops before she gets through the door.

“Can I ask you a question?”

I turn around, surprised by this. Michelle almost NEVER wants to make casual conversation with me. Especially when we’re busy at work. Doesn’t she have another client to attend to? And why would she want to hang out around here? I’d think the stench alone would encourage her to run out of here as fast as she can.

“Sure, Michelle. What’s your question?”

“Are you dating that girl that I saw you with the other day?”

I’m taken aback by this comment. Who is she referring to? Cindi North? Did Michelle see me with Cindi North this past weekend? That’s impossible, unless Michelle happened to be in Everett at the same time I was. I suppose that’s possible, but it’s not likely…

“What girl are you talking about? Does she work out here?”

“Yes, she does. I saw you talking with this really pretty black girl at that coffee place down the road. Are you hooking up with her or something?”

“Oh! You mean Monifa. You’re right; I was having lunch with her last week. No, we’re not dating. We just met each other. Gee, you’re quite the stalker!”

Michelle takes a few steps toward me, assuring me she wasn’t being a creeper. Ah…this makes sense! Of course she wouldn’t have seen me with Cindi North. She easily could have seen me with Monifa. And, Monifa does in fact work out here regularly.

“Ha! I’m not stalking you. I just thought it was kind of cool. Do you know she’s one of my clients now? I’m helping her get ready for a bodybuilding competition.”

My head starts to spin as I hear this. Monifa is training to become a bodybuilder? Really? Does she have time to do that? I guess bodybuilding is sort of an art and she does consider herself to be an “artist.” She can live her life the way she wants to, I suppose.

“You are? That’s kind of cool. I had no idea she wants to become a bodybuilder.”

“She says it’s something she wants to try. Why not? Live a little, right?”

“Right. Live a little.”

I stare down at the floor. I sense Michelle is doing the same thing. This is probably the longest conversation we’ve ever had together. She doesn’t usually have this much to say to me. I guess it is rather juicy to see a client have lunch with a coworker outside of work.

“Ryan? Can I ask you another question?”

My eyes leave the floor. I look up at her. Michelle looks gorgeous today, her beach blonde hair waving carelessly below her shoulders. Her fit, toned body is openly on display in her tight black Wellford Fitness Center shirt and petite white shorts. Her breasts look scrumptious, as if they’re beckoning me to give them a firm squeeze. I know for a fact I’d be fired for sexual harassment if I ever considered doing that!

“Yeah, sure. What’s your other question?”

“Do you find me attractive?”

Silence.

“Um…uh…I, er, I…”

“Answer me truthfully. Don’t worry. I won’t get offended by whatever you say.”

“Uh…yes! I do find you attractive. You’re one of the prettiest people I know. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes it does. Thanks.”

“Hm…why do you ask? That’s not exactly a typical normal question you ask a coworker, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, I do. I ask that because…this is going to sound weird, but…when I saw you and Monifa having lunch together that day…I, uh, felt a little…jealous.” Michelle is now the one staring down at the floor. Her feet shift side to side uncomfortably.

I think about this for a moment. Jealous? Why on earth would Michelle, a Perfect Blonde, a Perfect 10, be jealous seeing me having lunch with another woman? It’s not like Michelle and I ever dated before. We’re just coworkers! To top it off, this is without a doubt the longest conversation I’ve ever had with her in all the years we’ve worked together.

WTF???

“Jealous? Um, why are you jealous seeing me with her?”

“I don’t know! I just felt a bit, you know, betrayed seeing you with her. I know…this shit makes no sense. I’m fucked up in the head or something, you know?”

“No, no, no…you’re not fucked up or anything. Maybe you feel, I don’t know…like you’re in competition with her. Is that it?”

“Yeah…that’s probably it. She’s gorgeous and she has a fucking amazing body. I look terrible compared to her.”

“Hey, don’t say that! You look great. Why would you think you look terrible? That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m old. I feel so old!” Tears start to form in her eyes. Oh great! Michelle’s having a midlife crisis at the tender age of 36. Cindi’s 48 and you never see her complain about her age. What’s the world coming to–

“Fuck me.”

My mind turns blank. I look at Michelle but nothing registers in my mind. Did I just hear that correctly?

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Fuck me. Right here, right now. Fuck me!”

“Um…I don’t know about this. Isn’t this a bit…sudden?”

“I don’t give a shit. I want you to fuck me, Ryan!”

Michelle turns around, pulls down her shorts and her panties and bends over, exposing her gorgeous round butt to me. Her vulva is glistening, wet and ready. Unlike Cindi, Michelle’s pink vaginal lips look soft and feminine, whereas the Muscle Goddess looks like a burlap sack down there (I know, that’s a crude analogy, but give me a break!). My penis hardens and stands at attention, awakening to this unexpected opportunity.

“I’m not so sure about this…what if Thomas sees us?”

“Who gives a shit about him? I want you to fuck me! Fuck me now!”

“Oh, uh, do you have a condom?”

“Screw that shit! I’m clean. Are you?”

“Yeah…I’m clean.”

“Then we don’t need one. What the fuck are you waiting for? I’ve asked you a million times to fuck me! What are you, scared?”

Scared? Hell no! I’m not scared! What gives her the right to call me scared?

“Fuck you! I’m not scared of anything!”

Anger running through my system, I unzip my pants, pull down my underwear, grip Michelle’s hips and shove my penis inside her, hard and reckless. This time, I’m going to take charge and fuck her like she’s never been fucked before!

Like two wild animals, Michelle remains bent over as I thrust into her from behind. My fingers dig into her flesh as I pound and pound, releasing any pent-up aggression and any doubt that I’m afraid to have sex with a woman in a public place. Wow! This is really something. A beautiful blonde just pulled down her pants and demands I shtup her on the spot.

What is this, the plot to a cheap porno?

As my penis continues to thrust in and out of her, Michelle’s heavy breathing gives way to a loud moan and fills the entire room. Not even the rumble of the washing machine cleaning the towels can completely muffle the sound of us fornicating in the laundry room.

A million thoughts run through my mind at once. Here I am having sex with a prototypical blonde bombshell who never spoke more than two sentences to me at a time. She’s also someone with a checkered past, given the less-than-stellar reputations of some of her previous boyfriends. I also realize she might be going through an early midlife crisis and this is her way of reclaiming her lost youth. Is she jealous that I preferred to socialize with a younger woman like Monifa instead of her? But she never gave any indication that she wants anything to do with me!

And she’s only 36! She’s not old. She looks great for her age. She looks like she can pass for 23 or 24…

These thoughts linger as my orgasm builds ferociously. I feel my climax approaching. My quick thrusts become slower and more measured as I try to penetrate her as deep as I can. I keep imagining Big Danny (her ex-husband) and his extremely huge penis thrusting into her tight little body. How am I doing? Can I compare to him? Is my little Asian penis any match for Danny’s gargantuan, monstrous endowment? Is she feeling anything?

Her loud moans stop and she lets out an uncontrolled scream, loud enough that I’m sure everyone outside this room can hear. But I don’t care about that as I sense my climax coming closer and closer…

“Hey! What the hell!!!”

Michelle stops moving and stands upright. Out of the corner of my eye I see Thomas Wellford, our boss and owner of this gym, standing in the doorway with a look of surprise and outrage on his face. The moment Michelle sees we’ve been caught she jerks forward, my penis suddenly leaving her vagina. This sudden jerk is the final act of stimulation I need to come…

“Aggghhhhh!” I groan, looking up with my eyes closed as I ejaculate all over the floor.

“Holy shit!” Michelle screams to herself, realizing our impromptu coitus session will get both of us in big trouble.

Thomas closes the door behind him and takes a few cautious steps toward us. My mind returning back to reality, I look down and see my semen sprawled across the floor. Did my boss just see me come? Oh FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“This…is…unbelievable, you two. This is serious. What the hell are you doing?!!!!” Thomas yells at us. This is going to get ugly. Really ugly. Oh shit…

Michelle’s face is beet red. We’ve been caught literally with our pants down. This is definitely THE MOST AWKWARD MOMENT OF MY LIFE!

“I don’t believe this shit. Half the gym can hear you guys fucking. Are you both out of your minds? What the fuck is going on here? Don’t you know what professionalism means? Really? You two are fucking…in here? During work hours? What the HELLLLLL!!!!!!”

Thomas is REALLY pissed. Holy mother of God. This is bad.

At this moment, Thomas is steaming (I swear I can see smoke coming out of his ears), Michelle is crying and I’m befuddled beyond words.

And this entire time, my semen is awkwardly lying on the floor.

Fuck my life…

***

I’ll spare you the ugly details, but long story short…we both got fired.

Michelle was supposed to see a client but she never reported to the front desk, so Thomas personally searched all over the building for her. And when he found us, we were “in flagrante delicto,” going at it like two bunny rabbits during mating season.

We said nothing to each other as Michelle and I gloomily walked out of the fitness center with our heads hanging low. No words, no looks, nothing to acknowledge that we even know each other. There we were, no more than twenty minutes earlier screwing each other like wild dogs, pretending like we’re total strangers.

This is a sad day for both of us.

Fired. Just like that. Out of a job. Nothing can possibly make this painful awkwardness go away.
This is going to be the longest walk home EVER.

Ten minutes later, emotions still flooding through me, I had a thought. As we speak, some poor chap at the Wellford Fitness Center, probably either Robbie or Maria (two employees who regularly work there when I do), is on their knees scrubbing my semen off the floor.

My semen. My seed.

Awkwardly staining the carpet.

This thought puts a smile across my face.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Eighteen – The Morning After

At 9:45 a.m. I wake up, vaguely remembering my dream. I think it had something to do with going back to school and finishing a biology exam, but I could be wrong. Who needs to dream when real life is so much more exciting?

I lazily turn to my left and see Miss North snoozing like an angel. Her black and gray hair covers her face, shielding her eyes from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. Lovingly, I pull back a lock of her hair and lightly caress her face.

Cindi stirs, feeling my fingers on her cheek. When she takes my finger into her mouth and sucks on it lightly, I know she has fully awoken.

“Good morning, Cindi.”

“Good morning to you, Ryan. You taste sweet.” Nibbling on my finger, I sense that my penis has also woken up from its slumber. As if she has a sixth sense for these things, Cindi reaches down and strokes up and down my shaft, sending goosebumps shivering up my body.

“Thank you, but you’re much sweeter than me.” Kissing her right breast, I gently take her nipple between my lips and play with it with my tongue. Releasing a hushed moan, her fingers wrap tighter around my manhood, as if she’s grabbing onto it for dear life.

“You sure know how to treat a girl right.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just saying thank you for all you did for me last night.”

“Oh, thanks. But remember, lovemaking is a two-way road. You also did things to me as well, wouldn’t you say?” As if trying to job my memory, Cindi cups my scrotum and tenderly squeezes it. I groan, expressing my pleasure.

“Yes, you’re right about that. A lot happened to me last night, but I’m sure it’s just par for the course with you.”

“Are you calling me a whore?” Cindi sounds genuinely offended.

“No! Of course not! I’m just saying–”

“Shhhhhh!!!! Don’t get so chippy! I’m joking, Ryan.”

Cindi releases my testicles and sticks a finger up my anus, just as I did to her last night in the shower. I gasp loudly, but not with the shock of Cindi intruding my body, but with the delightful astonishment of her returning the favor.

“How does it feel to have a woman penetrate you? Does it feel good?” Cindi’s finger digs deeper inside me, as if she’s claiming ownership over me. I have no qualms about Cindi North claiming me as her own.

“It feels…strange. Is this what it feels like…to…you know, be penetrated back there?” I almost stop breathing. My lungs fill with air, but cannot exhale as long as she’s inside me.

“Yes. Because that’s exactly what’s happening to you right now.” Cindi releases her finger from my bottom and kisses me deeply on the lips, tasting every centimeter of my mouth. Our tongues meet, wrestling like two heavyweights grappling on the mat.

“What shall we have for breakfast?” Cindi asks. I struggle to catch my breath as our lips come apart.

“I have no idea. I don’t live here. What do you suggest we have for breakfast?”

“I know exactly what we should eat.” Cindi kisses me again. Then, she grabs my head with both hands and shoves me down toward her pubic mound. Her enormous clitoris stands at attention, ready to be satiated.

“Eat me for breakfast.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I begin by wrapping my lips around her “little penis,” sucking at its head till I hear Cindi let out a loud, uninhibited groan. I then stick one, then two fingers inside her vagina, exploring her inner walls. They are already moist and hot to the touch.

Cindi spreads her bulky legs wide in a spread eagle formation, opening her womanhood wider to me. I notice a small drop of feminine juice leak out from her vulva. It leaves a small, clear stain on the bed sheet. This arouses me further.

My fingers find her g-spot as my tongue continues to punish her clitoris. Waves of sensation pulse through Cindi’s dynamic body, leaving this muscular angel weak and helpless. She is at my mercy, a feeling of domination that sends surges of adrenaline rushing through me.

A third finger enters her, complimenting what my two fingers are already doing. I lightly blow hot air onto her wet clitoris, causing Cindi to gasp even louder than when I gasped. I am still in shock that a woman could be so well endowed. Her “little penis” grows harder and harder, anticipating a raging orgasm.

Cindi grabs my hair and pulls it, almost lifting my mouth off her womanhood. I resist, remaining between her legs, pleasuring her like she pleasured me last night. My three fingers suddenly thrust against her g-spot, forcing a vulgar scream to bellow from her throat.

Finally, Cindi can’t hold it any longer and she climaxes, sending waves of delight streaming across the entire room. Hell, her climax is probably being felt on the Richter scale at this moment!

A clear jet of white, milky fluid escapes from her vagina as her walls contract powerfully. It leaves a significant stain on the sheets, adding to the previous stain she made earlier.

Holy hell.

HOLY FUCK!!!

Did she just ejaculate? Did I just cause Cindi to ejaculate? I think it did.

Hooooooooooooooooooooooooootttttttttttt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cindi’s breathing calms down and she eventually returns back to planet Earth. Her eyes open and she looks at me, smiling and puffing away.

“Thank you, Ryan. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Uh, Cindi, you…kind of…uh…”

“Squirted?”

Her nonchalant answer took me by surprise. I immediately sat up after hearing this singular word escape from her mouth.

“Yes…that’s exactly what I meant. You, um…squirted. All over your sheets.”

“I’ve been known to do that when someone hits my g-spot at the right time with the right amount of force. Congratulations, Ryan. You did something hardly anyone can do without specific instructions.”

I feel proud. Really? Did I just do that? Did I just give her an orgasm so powerful it caused her to ejaculate like a man? WOW!

“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m proud of the fact that I can squirt as well as any man.”

Cindi sticks out her chest and beats on her breast like Tarzan. I laugh, causing her to laugh with me. She might be a powerful, dominating, muscular woman, but she’s still a softie at heart. I like this about her.

“Are you sure you can squirt as well as any man?”

“Of course. When properly motivated.”

“Men can squirt pretty well when they’re properly motivated, too.” I nibble on her ear. Taking my not-so-subtle hint, Cindi reaches down and grabs onto my penis with both hands, rubbing up and down furiously.

“I think I know what you mean.”

Before I could speak, Cindi kisses me, an electric shock bolting down my spine. Her fingers wrapped tightly around my manhood, with reckless abandon Cindi strokes up and down, causing my vision to blur. On the apex of the proverbial “Cloud 9,” I feel my orgasm build as her right hand surrounds me, refusing to let go.

“I love this, Ryan. I love this so much!” Cindi whispers into my ear, as if she enjoys giving pleasure as much as she enjoys receiving pleasure. At this point, who could argue either way?

Cindi’s thumb brushes against the tip of my penis, making me shudder. Then she grips the base of my manhood and squeezes it suddenly, sending me over the edge. I climax, powerful spasms rocking my entire being.

Five or six squirts later, I look down and see several drops of my semen lying on her bed sheets, shamelessly sprawled out on top of her womanly juices. We kiss again, but with less ferocity and with more passion.

We both look down at the mess we made and burst out laughing for what seems like ten minutes. Can you believe two mature adults, one 48 and the other 23-years-old, just wet the bed?

Our laughter dies down. Tears are rolling down our faces. We kiss again.

“I’m sorry I stained your sheets.” Embarrassed, I must be red in the face.

Cindi kisses my cheek and smiles.

“It’s okay. I did too!”

We burst out laughing again, this time our laughter lasts an eternity.

Eventually, we clean up our mess and toss the bed sheets into the washing machine. She starts a load of laundry, which includes a large pile of workout shirts, shorts and towels. We put our clothes back on and go downstairs toward the kitchen. It’s now time for REAL breakfast!

Cindi doesn’t feel like cooking, so we eat leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. Who knew quinoa still tastes good the next day?

After breakfast, Cindi takes out the laundry from the washer and places it in the dryer in preparation for her Sunday afternoon workout. Cindi tells me today is a chest day. Imagining Cindi bench press 350 pounds is enough to give me another erection. Surprisingly, I remain settled.

“Can you come over again next Saturday? We can do dinner again.”

“Of course! I’d love to. I think I should bring something else instead of just a bottle of wine. I can cook something!”

“You can do that? I’d love for you to bring something. Just make sure it’s healthy.”

“Without a doubt! I’d never bring anything unhealthy here.”

“I’m just kidding. I do have a sweet tooth. I can be very naughty at times.”

“Tell me about it! You are a naughty girl.” I squeeze her thigh. The feel of her large, muscular legs almost gives me a heart attack.

Cindi plants one last kiss on me as I head out the door. Gasping for air, I decide to hug her. We embrace for a very long time, savoring every moment. I should be thankful for this wonderful, gracious woman. She took me into her home, cooked me a delicious meal, took my virginity and treated me to an evening I will never forget. I’ll never forget this morning, either.

“Thanks, Cindi. For everything.”

“No, Ryan. Thank you. You’re a great guy. I’m glad I know you.” We embrace again, this time under the watchful eye of Cindi’s next door neighbors. Who cares if the whole world sees us like this? They can judge all they want. What we do in our own private time is nobody’s business but our own.

“I’m glad I know you, too. Have a good workout.”

“I will. Thank you.”

The short walk back to my car is very surreal. I came to his house yesterday a virgin, but I left a man. A real man. Yes, Cindi told me I was always a man, but this morning things are totally different. I genuinely feel different. I feel more grown up, more confident, more vibrant.

I can take on the whole world! Nobody can get in my way! Watch out, universe. Ryan Takahashi has arrived, and he’s taking no prisoners!!!

I wave one last time to Cindi as I drive away back to Seattle. She waves back, blowing me an air kiss. I almost hit a mailbox, but swerve out of the way at the last second.

As I drive home, I realize I just had six orgasms in the last twelve hours. Gee, I’m going to be so sore tomorrow!

But it will be well worth it.

VEEEEEEEEEEEERY well worth it.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Seventeen – Rounds Three, Four and Five

Cindi turns on the hot water and runs her fingers through it; feeling its warmth. As for me, I’m already hot, if you know what I mean. Steaming hot.

But not as hot as Cindi. She’s more scorching than the center of the sun.

Already naked and dripping with sweat, we hop into the shower and feel the hot water cascade off our bodies. The shower stall is almost too small to fit the both of us. Cindi is a ridiculously massive woman who takes up a lot of space. I’m surprised the two of us can even fit in here together.

“Are you cramped?” Cindi asks, her entire body blocking the spraying water.

“No, I’m just fine. Although, it’s a lot tighter in here than I expected.”

“That’s what she said.”

Pause.

“Oh my God!” I burst out laughing, throwing my head back and feeling the water shoot out onto my neck. Cindi joins me in laughing and massages my hips with her bulky hands.

“I can be a little dirty when it’s the right occasion.”

“Dirty? I thought we’re in here to get clean.”

“Hm. That’s what you think.”

Planting a long, passionate kiss on my lips, I taste her feminine essence and love every moment of it. She’s tall, muscular, strong as an ox, but very feminine at the same time. She’s absolutely remarkable and without peer.

Cindi opens a bottle of shampoo and lathers her long black (with gray streaks) hair. I follow suit, except I use a lot less shampoo because my hair is considerably shorter. She takes the bottle, squirts a small amount of soap in the palm of her hand and wrings both hands together. Full of bubbles and froth, Cindi reaches down and soaps up my limp penis, which immediately springs to life. I moan as her soapy, calloused fingers work their magic on my manhood.

I take her left nipple into my mouth, sucking on it till it stands at attention. I take her other nipple into my mouth as she rubs my scrotum to her heart’s content. I look up and place my chin on top of her breasts, like a child looking up at his mommy. Cindi stares down back at me, a fabulous grin stretching across her face.

“Let’s get dirty, Ryan.”

“I want to so get dirty with you, Cindi dear.”

My penis once again fully engorged, Cindi puts down the bottle of shampoo and grabs a bar of soap. She brushes it from the top of her neck all the way down to her abs. A white line remains on her brown skin, trailing the soap’s pathway.

“Wash me,” Cindi commands.

Not hesitating, I take the bar of soap from her and rub it up and down her tree trunk legs. If I had to cover her entire body with soap, I might need at least eight or nine bars to do the job!

I squat down and kiss her knees as the hot water continues to jet off our bodies. Suddenly, a crazy idea pops into my head. I hope this works!

“Spread your legs,” I demand.

“Oooh, are you giving me orders?”

“Yes, I’m giving you orders. Now spread your legs. Now!”

“I like your authority! I like this a lot! You ARE a dirty boy!”

“Not as dirty as you think.”

Before she could say anything else, I spread her labia with two of my fingers and rub the bar of soap across her swollen, enlarged clitoris. She groans, expressing her careless enjoyment. Impulsively, I shove the entire bar of soap up her vagina, using the palm of my hand to jam it in completely.

“Oh!!!!!!” Cindi suddenly cries out; either out of pleasure, pain or utter surprise. Not sure if I’ve done anything wrong, I stand up and look at her face, trying to see if I’ve crossed a boundary with this reckless move.

“Are you okay? Should I take it out?”

Cindi’s entire body shudders. She closes her eyes and opens them, glaring straight at me. I’m afraid. Afraid that she might hurt me or that she might be mad at me. My heart stops.

“That…feels…amazing! What made you do that?”

“Uh, I was being impulsive, that’s all. Does it hurt?”

“No, not at all. I’m already wet down there, but if we hadn’t just had sex, it might hurt. But damn, that was really unexpected! Good job, sweetie!” Unsure how to react, she leans down and kisses me hard, making my knees buckle and nearly forcing me to fall down. I then remember the bar of soap is still inside her vagina. Wow, there must be a kinky side to me that I’m just now discovering!

I squat down again, reach toward her vulva, pinch the bar of soap between my fingers and quickly yank it out. Cindi gasps loudly, expressing pleasure (I hope!) at this sudden move. Her entire womanhood is covered in sticky white foam.

“Ryan, there’s soap inside my pussy.”

“Sorry, Cindi.”

“Don’t be sorry. Clean it out. Now.”

“How should I clean it out?”

“Use your imagination.” She grips my penis with her fingers, stroking any remaining soap off of it. If she grips any harder, I might come again and will have to wait another fifteen minutes. But I take the hint and follow her innuendo.

“Turn around.”

“What?” Cindi asks, confused.

“I said, turn around. Please.”

“Hey! Don’t say ‘please.’ Be a man. Tell me what to do!”

“Turn around! Do it! Now!”

“Yes, sir!”

She follows my orders and turns her gargantuan body around so she’s facing the shower spray while I get all the mist that seeps through. I bend down and kiss her amazing body from her lower back all the way up to her neck. I feel goosebumps spring up across her flesh as my lips caress her rough, coarse brown skin. The tip of my erect penis scratches across her right butt cheek. Not wanting to lose control over her (is she wanting me to give her orders?), I make a pro-active choice and stick my left index finger up her anus while I reach forward and brush my other fingers across her lips. She tastes my fingers, stroking it with her tongue.

Cindi lets out a fervent moan, expressing her delight. My finger still up her anus, I lean toward her ear and whisper one final commandment to Miss North:

“Spread your legs, darling. Do it, for me.”

Immediately on cue, Cindi widens her stance and sticks her butt out toward me, her strong glutes pressing against my loins. I withdraw my finger from her anus and grapple her hips with both of my hands. I feel the adrenaline pumping through me as I’ve only dreamed of doing these sort of acts to a woman. Right now, in this moment, I’m living out those dreams. And from the sounds of her moaning, this woman is enjoying every minute of it just as I am.

“Take me!” Cindi screams at the top of her lungs, hot water streaming down her magnificent body. To hell if the whole world hears. She could care less.

“Yes, Cindi.”

I grip the base of my penis and slide inside Cindi’s soapy vagina, nice and slow, savoring every sensation. The soap helps me enter her fully. Slick and wet, I pump back and forth at an unhurried pace, feeling my orgasm build, enjoying the moment. I hope this moment never ends. Ever.

“Yes…yes…do it Ryan. Do it…for me! Do it for me, Ryan!”

I dig my fingers into her fleshy, muscular hips and quicken my pace. My orgasm overtakes every fiber in my body, as if millions of pleasurable sensations are jolting through my soul all at once. Pumping into her harder and faster, I feel my climax approaching like a ticking time bomb ready to explode in a frenzy of heat and emotion.

“Fuck me, Ryan Takahashi! Fuck me!” Cindi passionately hollers out, every inhibition in her left at the proverbial door. I could also care less if every single one of her neighbors can hear us making love like two wild animals.

“Ahhhhgggggg!!!!!!” I scream, coming and discharging more of my semen into her. Is this the third time tonight that I’ve climaxed into her? Amazing…

Our heavy breathing abates; our passionate cries turn to satisfied whimpers, our shouts of ecstasy shift into whispers of sweet nothings. Stunned and deeply blissful, we silently finish washing our bodies to scrub off the grime of the day. Cindi shuts off the water and we dry ourselves off. Our third mating session comes to an end, and what an end it was.

Fresh, clean and still very naked, Cindi and I return to her bedroom, holding hands like two long-time lovers. I will treasure this evening for all eternity. For this night, in this house, in this very room, two people enjoyed a shared pleasure that no one else on Earth will ever understand. Absolutely no one. That makes us special.

“Will you spend the night?” Cindi asks, combing her long hair with a brush.

“I can. Do you mind if I do?”

“You are invited to spend the night with me. I’m offering, so of course I don’t mind.”

“Yes. I will spend the night with you. Lover.”

We kiss, but this time without the zeal of two amorous lovers, but with the mutual respect of two deeply connected people expressing their undying devotion to each other. At least, this is how I interpret this particular kiss. I could be wrong.

Or not.

We decide to sleep naked, as if there would be any reason for us to put on clothes. As far as we’re concerned, we could go the rest of our lives without wearing any more clothing. Clothing is for simple humans. We’re more sophisticated and open about our bodies than that.

“Good night, lover.” Cindi kisses my forehead.

“Good night to you too, lover.” I return the kiss, but my lips caress her cheek instead.

Cindi turns off the bedside lamp and we both immediately fall asleep.

About two hours later (judging from the time being 1:35 a.m.), I wake up when I feel wet lips brushing against my shoulder. I open my eyes and turn around. Sure enough, Cindi is wide awake and ready for more. What kind of a sexual appetite does this woman have? Will nothing satisfy her hunger?

“Did I wake you, darling?”

“Yes, you did. But I’m not complaining.” I turn toward her and we kiss.

“Are you up for round four?”

Upon hearing this question, my sagging penis springs to life, as if it’s answering with a resounding “yes” in my honor.

“Let’s make it happen, Miss North.”

Cindi straddles my hips, licks both of my nipples, fondles my stomach with her hard fingers and gracefully engulfs my penis with her entire womanhood. I’m amazed how moist her vagina is at this point, considering we’ve been sleeping for nearly two hours. But here she is, riding me like a cowgirl riding her horse.

Eventually, I climax for a fourth time and spill more of my seed into her divine body. She rolls off me, pecks me on the cheek and gets out of bed.

“I have to pee. I’ll be back.”

“Okay, Cindi.”

I never hear her use the bathroom because I instantly fall back to sleep.

Three and a half hours later, at 5 in the morning, I decide to initiate the impromptu lovemaking session this time. Who says I can’t be the one who does it?

After waking up, I roll on top of Cindi, who stops her quiet snoring and wakes up herself. Groggy and still partially in Dream World, I kiss her and nibble on her nose.

“Are you up for round five?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

We make love missionary style, with me pumping away as she lies on her back, taking in every moment. My fifth climax jolts through me, stealing my breath and sapping any iota of energy I had left. I empty myself into her and plop onto my back. Cindi strokes my cheek with her index finger, wiping off a drop of sweat.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ryan.”

“I’m glad you invited me to spend the night, Cindi.”

“We should do this all the time.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” a happy grin shooting across my face. If she’s being serious, then I just struck gold!

After kissing and fondling each other for several minutes, Cindi and I fall back to sleep again. But this time, we decide to sleep for good. Enough is enough. We’re both spent.

Good night and sweet dreams.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Sixteen – Round Two

Cindi and I both sit up and gaze into each other’s eyes. I cup her face and kiss her languorously, savoring the sweet taste of her delicious mouth. I want to experience Cindi through all five of my senses. She’s the type of complex woman who can be experienced in that way.

After our lips come apart, Cindi grabs my hips and pulls me on my back. Experiencing her brute strength further arouses me, as if I needed further help.

Once I’m on my back, Cindi stretches her enormous body above me and kisses me again. This time, she’s the one savoring every moment. Do I taste as sweet to her as she does to me? I highly doubt it.

The sensitive tip of my penis is now brushing against her muscled tummy. I feel a small drop of liquid leak out of my manhood and onto her eight-pack abs. I hope I’m not going to prematurely come again!

“I love you, Ryan,” she whispers into my ear as she grinds her tree trunk legs against my weaker legs.

“I love you too, Cindi,” I whisper back, caressing her thick back muscles. My arms barely reach around her wide torso. Her thickness further arouses my senses.

Did we just exchange affirmations of love? This is getting serious, by God! Or are we just caught up in the moment of sexual ecstasy?

Cindi tosses her head back, her black hair flying backwards out of her face. A single strand falls across her nose. She lets out a short, quick breath to blow it away. It remains in place. I think this is cute. She apparently agrees.

“Being sexy is not one of my best qualities,” Cindi confesses.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the sexiest woman in the world!”

“Thank you, but trust me, acting sexy isn’t really my thing. I’m not comfortable being that way, if you know what I’m saying.”

“That’s okay. Perfectly okay. Just act like yourself. That’s sexy enough for me.”

Cindi smiles widely, accentuating every age line on her face. I reach up and touch her jawline. She takes my fingers into her mouth and sucks on them slowly. My erect penis is now resting straight up across her belly. I swear, if she doesn’t do anything else except suck on my fingers, I might come just because of that!

“I appreciate hearing that, Ryan.” Taking my fingers out of her mouth, she begins to caress my nipples until they both stand up at attention. My fingers wet with her moisture, I mirror her actions and fondle her breasts. Cindi’s large brown areola and long nipples harden as we continue to stroke each other’s chests.

As I prepare to say something in return, Cindi hushes me up by grabbing the base of my penis and squeezing it tightly. I let out a moan of delight. Sensing my readiness (or at this point, over-readiness!), she raises herself onto her knees until her entire body is hovering over mine. The bed squeaks in protest, a direct reaction to a large, muscular woman shaking the very foundations of the Earth.

Slowly but surely, Cindi lowers herself until the entire length of my erect penis enters her vagina. Still hot and moist, Cindi is the antithesis of the stereotypical middle-aged woman who’s lost her sexual vibrancy. When it comes to good, old fashioned lovemaking, Cindi has not skipped a beat, even at the ripe age of 48.

After coming together at our most intimate parts, Cindi sways her hips back and forth and side to side, experimenting with various tempos to see what gives us both maximum pleasure. Her hands explore my shoulders as my hands greedily explore her abdominal muscles and thighs.

Straddling me like a horse, Cindi takes the cowgirl position into full throttle by bouncing her pelvis up and down my shaft, taking in every thrust as if it might be our last. I sure hope this night isn’t our last together!

“Yes, yes, yes!” Cindi growls, anticipating her impending climax. I also sense my own orgasm building, as I’ve stopped stroking her thighs and began gripping her hips to give me better leverage.

I moan loudly as Cindi’s up and down bouncing becomes more frantic, more passionate. She’s looking up at the heavens, her eyes closed, drinking in every sensual moment of our lovemaking. I feel my penis grow harder and harder, explosions of pure pleasure permeating through every fiber of it. I wonder if Cindi is feeling the same way.

As if she’s reading my mind, Cindi reaches down and rubs her clitoris with sudden urgency. Her breathing becomes wild, her inhibitions becoming a thing of the past. I look down and see she’s ferociously massaging her clitoris with three fingers as her pelvis thrusts reach a crescendo.

“Aaaaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, yes!!!!!!!!!!!” Cindi screams at the top of her lungs, her powerful vaginal walls contracting uncontrollably around me.

“Oooohhhhh!!!!” I moan in response as my orgasm reaches its peak. I empty more semen into her, but this time I do it not as an act of lust, but an act of love; an act of a man giving a woman his precious seed as an expression of his affection for her.

My spasms come to an end but my manhood remains impossibly hard, lodged deep inside her womanhood. Cindi collapses on top of me, her breasts digging into my neck. A drip of sweat rolls down her chest and lands on my tongue. She tastes salty but sweet at the same time.

Her strong, musky smell permeates out of every inch of her muscular body. Cindi’s black and gray hair sweep across my face. I still can’t believe I just made love to this Strong Muscle Goddess.

Eventually Cindi rolls off me and onto her side. We exchange a long, deep kiss. Our eyes meet. We kiss again.

“That was fun,” Cindi says breathlessly.

“No kidding. You were amazing. I think I like it better when you’re on top.”

She kisses me on the cheek. I rub her bottom, feeling her taut glutes flex as she shows off her amazing muscle control. How can she be in the mood to flex her muscles at a time like this?

“I’m drenched in sweat, Ryan. Look at me.”

I take a good look at her. Wow! Even with tangled hair, no makeup on her face and sweat dripping from every pore of her body, she still looks a million times more amazing than any other woman on planet Earth. Her glistening sweat shows off her bulging muscles, exaggerating all the curves and curves on top of other curves on her body.

“You look amazing, Cindi. Absolutely amazing.” Stroking her meaty shoulders, I’m reminded of one of those guys you’d see fake-beating someone up on the WWE. Except in this case, it’s not a man. It’s a woman.

“Thank you, lover,” Cindi whispers into my ear, nibbling on it playfully. Is there anything she can do that won’t turn me on? We just got done with round two, but I feel like I could go for round three! And right now, not in a few minutes…

“What are you thinking right now, lover?”

“Honestly? I’m still in shock.”

“In shock about what, darling?”

“In shock about the fact that I just made love to a female bodybuilder. Someone who’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. That’s still unbelievable to me.” I kiss up and down her powerful right arm, savoring every moment, enjoying every inch.

“I’m happy you feel that way. It must be a little unusual being with a woman like me.” Lifting her right arm up, she flexes, proudly showing off her gigantic bicep. She then bounces it up and down, a show of force that rips a chill down my spine all the way to my toes. I don’t think there’s ever been a woman alive in this universe who’s as strong as Cindi North.

“Have you ever met a woman who’s stronger than you?” I ask curiously.

She thinks about it for a moment.

“Yes. I’ve met lots of women who are stronger than me.”

“Are you being serious? Really? Who?”

“Oh, you don’t know them. When you go to as many shows and competitions as I have, you meet a lot of amazing people with unbelievable bodies. I’m sure I’ve met a girl or two who could lift more than me.”

“But do you know for sure?”

She thinks about it again for a moment.

“I think so. There are lots of women out there who are bigger than me.”

“Do they juice like you?” I still kiss her arm, completely oblivious about what I just said.

Cindi stops flexing her bicep and turns to me. I immediately cease kissing her. I sense I’ve said something wrong but I have no idea why. My eyes meet hers.

“Do you think I take steroids?”

I struggle to find the words to respond.

“Uh, um, I think so. But I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about–”

“Let’s not talk about other people. Let’s talk about me. Do you think I take steroids?”

Uh oh. Did I offend her? Am I making a very large assumption that has no basis of truth? I’ve always assumed she juiced. I mean, take a look at her body! She’s absolutely huge and she has a man’s voice! The evidence certainly implies that she does, or does it?

“Yes…I do. Do you?”

Cindi sits upright and leans her broad back across the headboard of the bed. She stops touching me and scowls at me with contempt. I think I’m screwed; and not in the way that just happened to me a few minutes ago! “Screwed” as in I’m totally fucked because I totally fucked up. Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit…

“No, I do not. I used to, but I don’t. Not anymore. I used to when I was younger, but not today. Not yesterday, not last year, not anymore.”

“Did I offend you?”

Cindi lets out a heavy sigh, closes her eyes and reopens them, staring off into space. She doesn’t seem angry, at least not to the extent that I’m expecting. Maybe I’m not screwed after all.

“Yes, you did. But I’m not surprised that you think I’m juicing. Look, I am big, bigger than most women. But I can assure you I’m not taking any steroids. I did…ten years ago, believe it or not.” Cindi resumes touching me by taking her right hand into mine. I exhale a deep breath knowing she isn’t completely livid at me.

“So…you used to take steroids?”

“Yes, when I was about thirty-seven or thirty-eight, I took steroids so I could become as big as I could possibly be. But that didn’t end up so well.” She stops talking. I should probably change the subject.

“I’m sorry I said that, Cindi. I didn’t know you didn’t. I especially didn’t know it was a sore subject for you.”

“That’s okay, Ryan. I’m fine. I just had a brief flashback from my past. No big deal.” Cindi kisses my cheek and makes her way down to my neck. I cup her breasts and tease her nipples leisurely as my way of apologizing.

NOTE TO SELF: NEVER TALK ABOUT STEROIDS AGAIN WHEN I’M AROUND CINDI NORTH. OVER AND OUT.

“Do you want to take a shower before bed?”

“Can I spend the night?”

“Yes. Do you want to spend the night?”

“Of course. If you’ll let me. I don’t want to intrude. I think I’ve intruded enough already.”

“Like I said, it’s no big deal. I was just a little offended you thought my muscles aren’t natural. They’re all natural, for your information.” Cindi stands up and poses next to her mirror. Showcasing several competitive bodybuilding poses, she demonstrates the enormous size and incredible definition of her muscles, much to the delight of her lone audience member.

Holy cow, I sense my erection returning again!

“Do you like what you see?”

Could there be a more obvious answer?

“Of course I like what I see! I absolutely love what I see. You’re astonishing, Cindi. Thoroughly astonishing. What’s there not to like? You’re all natural, baby!”

With that, Cindi picks me up like a newborn infant and carries me to the bathroom.

“Let’s take a shower together, lover.”

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Fifteen – Pillow Talk

I gaze up at Cindi’s alarm clock and see it’s only 7:38 p.m. The night is still young.

Fully calmed down now, I’m confident my crying has stopped. Just for the record, I wasn’t crying as if I were at a funeral. I was weeping softly, totally at the mercy of a sudden flood of emotions.

“What do we do now?” I ask her.

“We talk.” Cindi is now stroking my backside, up and down, exploring every inch of me.

“I can do that.”

I pull my softened penis out of her womanhood and lay on my back next to her. We both let out a deep sigh almost at the same time. Gee, we’re even developing the same patterns of behavior!

“So…do you feel any different?”

I think for a moment.

“I don’t think so. I mean, it just ended. Everything happened so fast.”

“Well, not THAT fast. Remember last time?” Cindi grins.

“Yeah, not as fast as that one moment in my life. Seriously, I don’t know. I need some time for this all sink in.” That was the most honest answer I could give her.

Cindi caresses my soft manhood with tender care. Though exhausted, a sudden tingling sensation rips through my spine. A small drip of semen leaks out from the tip. Cindi wipes it with her index finger and puts it in her mouth. She licks it clean.

“What does it taste like?”

Cindi ponders.

“Like…chicken.”

There’s a long pause.

“I’m kidding! It tastes…like nothing. A little salty, though. But nothing to ride home about.” Cindi proceeds to caress my thighs. I return the favor by stroking her bulging, eight-pack abs.

“Ha! I knew you were joking, but you never know. You can be very serious at times.” It’s true. You don’t expect a beastly woman like Cindi North to be a jolly, happy-go-lucky bundle of enthusiasm. I guess her large muscles play a role in creating that reputation.

“I can be serious. I’m serious when I lift. Very serious.”

“How about Julie, your workout partner? What’s she like?”

“Julie’s a wonderful woman. Very strong. Very beautiful.” Cindi’s gaze wanders into space. Does she have feelings for her? Or is she just her “workout partner?” I want to know.

“Tell me, Cindi. Is Julie…one of your lovers?”

Cindi sits up upon hearing this question and stops stroking my legs. Is this another one of her serious moments?

“Yes. Julie is one of my lovers. I have many lovers. We’ve been in a relationship for about nine years. I love her to death.”

“You don’t live together, do you? I’m just assuming you live here alone.” I’ve never seen anybody here and there doesn’t appear to be any sign that anyone does. However, you never know.

“We don’t live together. Julie lives in Seattle. She drives up here five days a week to workout with me. But don’t feel like you’re in competition with her. I love her as much as life itself. But I also love you, of course.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it! I don’t consider anybody in your life to be “competition.” You’re an independent woman. You’re allowed to be with whomever you want to be with. Man or woman. Doesn’t matter to me.” I try to tickle her belly button. She doesn’t respond to these stimuli.

“Right now, Julie is the only woman I’m intimate with. And as of last week, you’re the only man I’m being intimate with. So consider yourself in very exclusive company.” Cindi resumes stroking my legs and works up to my bellybutton. She tickles it and I, unlike her, react to it. I flinch and she laughs.

“I love this company,” I begin, shuddering from her tickling. “I’d like to meet her. She seems like a very awesome lady.”

“You should! You and Julie would get along great. Just so you know, she’s not interested in men. She’s only interested in women. Strong women; to be more specific. Actually, she’s only interested in me, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Cindi sounds a bit defensive. I’ll try to diffuse any misunderstanding.

“Hey, I’m not saying I want to…you know, get with her. I’m just saying I’d like to meet her. That’s all.” I kiss Cindi’s neck and make my way down to her breasts. She caresses my stomach in return.

“I’m sorry if I sounded a little bitchy. I get possessive over the people I love.”

“There’s nothing inherently wrong with that. If you love her, it’s natural to get jealous over the slightest hint that somebody else might be interested in them.” I’m now licking her enormous biceps, savoring every peak. They taste wonderful.

“I guess you’re right. I am jealous. But I don’t know why.”

“I’m no psychologist. I can’t give you an answer to that. Sorry.”

Silence.

“I love Julie more than any other person on earth,” Cindi confesses.

I sit up and look into Cindi’s eyes. For some odd reason…I feel jealous at this remark. Why should I? She’s allowed to love whomever she wants. I’m just the guy she happens to be with at the moment!

“That’s great. So why is she okay with you having sex with other people?”

“Well, I’m only having sex with you at the moment. She knows about you. I told her all about you last week. She actually wants to meet you, too.”

“Can I take a guess here? She’s okay with you sleeping with other men as long as it’s just that; other men. No women, right?”

Cindi kisses me on the lips and strokes my face.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” I kiss her in return.

We stare into each other’s eyes. We share another long, passionate kiss. Then we start to hold hands, just like real lovers.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ryan. I really am.”

“You’re glad? I’m the one who should be glad! I just lost my virginity no more than ten minutes ago. To somebody as beautiful as you, no less. I think I’m way more grateful at this moment than you are.” A few of my fingers find her clitoris. I begin to stroke it gently. Cindi jerks in response to this unexpected stimulation.

“It’s not a contest. But I’m definitely proud to be the woman who popped your cherry.” Cindi strokes my penis with her free hand. Oddly, it doesn’t respond. I guess I need a little bit more time.

“Thank you for doing the honors.” My fingers make their way into her vagina. She’s still moist and sensitive to the touch. She stops stroking my penis and instead fondles my testicles. I start to feel my manhood wake up.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Ryan?”

“Go ahead. Now seems like the appropriate time.”

Cindi takes a deep breath, perhaps out of pleasure from my stimulation. I sure hope so…

“What was it like remaining a virgin at 23?”

My fingers stop stroking her vaginal walls. I pull out, wiping her juices on my leg. She senses my awkwardness at hearing her question.

“Well, to be honest, it was really embarrassing. Really embarrassing. Most of the people I know lost their virginity in high school, some in middle school, or at the very least college. But I remained one until this very evening. It’s pretty embarrassing. Even though I don’t think anybody else knew; that knowledge was enough to make me feel…terrible on the inside.”

Cindi kisses me on the cheek. Her tongue explores the right side of my face. Wow! She can lick my face all she wants. I won’t object.

“To be honest, I used to snicker at people who lost it after turning 20. But now I realize we’re all different and it doesn’t matter when it happens, if at all. What really matters is if we’re happy.” Cindi’s honesty is refreshing. She’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind, even if it makes her look bad.

“But now that I’m no longer a virgin, I feel a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel more complete, more of an adult. I feel more like an adult than the time I landed my first job. Somehow, that experience wasn’t as thrilling as I thought it was going to be.” Cindi’s tongue is now lapping across my left nipple. My penis starts to slowly rise back to life. I feel my heartbeat up its tempo. I think a drip of sweat is trickling down my back.

“Like I told you before, you’ve always been a man. You’re more of a man than a lot of men I’ve met in my life. And I’m not lying when I say that,” Cindi assures me, wrapping her right hand around my penis while her left hand explores my chest. This woman knows how to touch a man!

God, I must be the luckiest guy in the world right now.

“You’re awesome, Cindi. You really are. You’re the nicest, most compassionate woman I’ve ever encountered. You’re also definitely the sexiest.”

I return her strokes by stroking her bulging biceps. I swear she has biceps growing on top of her other biceps. She has at least three different levels of biceps developing on her arms.

“What makes me the sexiest woman you’ve ever met?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? Look at you.”

“I’m not that pretty.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m–”

“Are you saying I’m ugly?” Cindi is teasing me, I’m sure. She’s still gripping my penis like it’s a stick shift in her racing car at the Indy 500. If she grips any harder, she might tear it off!

“No! Of course not! I’m not saying you’re ugly. You’re not ugly! You’re the–”

“I know, Ryan. I’m kidding! You said I’m beautiful. I believe you when you say that.” She releases my penis and holds my hand instead. I think I like this movement better. By now, my manhood is fully re-engorged and ready for action.

“What I mean to say is that your muscles are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO incredibly sexy. You’re so strong it boggles my mind. Just look at your biceps. They’re huge! How large are they?”

“At my peak, they can be up to 19 inches around. But right now, I’m guessing probably 17 inches. Maybe 17 and a half, if I’m lucky.”

“Do you have a sewing measuring tape?”

“I’m a professional bodybuilder. Of course I have a sewing measuring tape.”

“Here’s a question: can we measure your muscles?”

“We could, but why do you want to measure my muscles?”

“Because I want to know exactly how big you are. It would turn me on.”

A wicked grin develops across Cindi’s face. A strong surge of electricity jolts down my spine when I see her pearly white teeth shining at me.

“I think you’re already turned on.” She looks down at my erection and continues to grin wildly. I know exactly what she’s thinking. Luckily, I’m thinking the exact same thing.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Cindi North?”

“I think I am, Ryan Takahashi.”

“Round two?”

“Round two.”

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Fourteen – Losing My Virginity

Cindi carries me all the way up to her bedroom (which includes a long flight of stairs) as if I were as light as a feather. But I’m not actually light as a feather. This is a testament to her tremendous strength.

The entire time she’s carrying me we kiss like there’s no tomorrow. To hell with it; tomorrow can wait. Today, in this moment, it’s all about us.

Cindi and Ryan.

Two friends.

Who are about to express their newfound friendship through the act of physical love.

By now I know where her bedroom is so I take every opportunity to kiss Cindi and stare deeply into her eyes. I almost forget I’m being carried by her like a baby in arms. Cindi can carry me around all day and I’d never feel emasculated by it.

When we get to her bedroom she flips on the light switch and drops me on my feet. Dazed and confused, my head is swimming with all the possibilities of what is about to happen. I’m about to make love to Cindi North: The Divine Muscle Goddess, The Most Muscular Woman in the World, the Female Hercules.

Opportunities like this don’t happen every day!

Cindi closes the door and walks over to the window to pull down the blinds. She turns to me and beckons me to come to her.

“Come.”

I do as I’m told.

I approach her with the hesitancy of a naughty child visiting the principal’s office. She cups my face and plants a long, wet kiss on my lips. I feel her tongue wrestling my tongue into submission. Holy shit. Even her TONGUE is powerful! Is there nothing about this woman that isn’t strong?

“You taste good,” Cindi says.

“That’s because I just ate your cooking.”

Cindi giggles. “That’s what I like to hear!”

She expresses her gratitude by nibbling on my ear. I’d nibble back if I were a good eight inches taller. It must be weird seeing such a large woman have to bend so far down to display affection for her man. I stroke her back to return the favor.

“Strip me. Strip me now.” Cindi moans as my tongue explores her neck. I follow her orders by lifting her t-shirt off her body. I struggle to wrap my arms around her thick chest. Cindi cooperates by taking off her shirt for me.

“You’re so strong. I love it.” I’m completely hypnotized by her bulging muscles.

“Thank you. I take pride in my strength.”

Cindi isn’t wearing a bra. Her small, flat breasts still look tempting to touch. I pinch both of her nipples gently, making Cindi let out another moan. I cup both of her breasts in my hands, feeling her femininity in a way no other man could. Some men are scared of her. Some men are disgusted by her. Not me. I am enamored by her. Every inch of her. That’s the difference between me and most other men.

Out of nowhere, Cindi lifts my shirt off my back so quickly I barely even notice it. She squats down and kisses my abs (yes, I do have some visible abdominal muscles going on!!!) with a delicate finesse of an experienced seductress. Before I know it, she unbuckles my belt and lowers my pants to the floor. I kick them off to the side as Cindi removes my socks.

“You’re beautiful, Cindi.”

“Save the compliments for later. Let your actions do the talking.”

“Alright, if you insist.” I lean over and pull her sweatpants to the floor. Her tree trunk thighs welcome me, insisting I kiss them. I oblige, sending a long streak of kisses down her left leg. The feel of her veins against my lips makes me quiver with need.

Naked except for our underwear, Cindi and I look at each other to size ourselves up. Clearly, she is the physically dominant one in this relationship. I’m puny compared to her.

“There’s only one piece of clothing left,” she says.

“Let’s lose it,” I suggest.

With that, we both strip off our underwear and look at each other’s bodies. Cindi’s muscles look as large as ever. She looks even bigger naked than when she’s fully clothed. Every detail of her heavenly body is on display here in this room. My penis is fully engorged and standing at attention, ready to meet its destiny.

Cindi pulls back the covers on her bed and sits down on it. Her face becomes serious.

“I have a serious question to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want to use a condom?”

“What? Excuse me? You’re asking me if I want to use a condom? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I always thought men never had a choice in the matter.”

“Not in this case. So I’ll ask you again. Do you want to use a condom? I have a whole box of them in my dresser drawer. I’ll be glad to take one out.”

“Uh, sure. We should to be safe.”

“Safe from what? Diseases? Are you saying I might have some sort of STD?”

“No! I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about pregnancy. You know, that process that creates babies.”

“Don’t worry about pregnancy. I’m too old for that.”

“But you’re 48. Women at that age can still have children, right?”

“Some might. But not me. Trust me, Ryan. I’m done with that part of my life. I have four kids and I don’t plan on having any more. We’re safe.”

“Okay, if you insist. No condom then.”

“Great! I’m glad you think the same way. Nothing beats the feeling of a pure man inside of you.”

And just like that, when she uttered the words “inside of you,” my heart leaped into my throat. I’m actually about to enter into a woman! I’m about to do it, I’m on the verge of crossing that sacred threshold between virginity and…uh, non-virginity. Manhood, or manliness, or something like that. I’m about to become a man!

“I know you’re excited. Don’t worry. We can take it slow, darling.” Cindi’s reassuring attitude calms me down. I want to make lover to her soooooooooooooo badly, but I don’t want to do anything foolish or embarrassing. I still remember what happened last week.

“Kiss me, Ryan.”

“Yes, Cindi.”

I sit on the bed next to her and kiss her lips fervently. I linger to taste her feminine essence. She caresses my right leg with one hand and rubs my neck with the other. I reach down and lightly press my middle and index finger against her enlarged clitoris. Fully engorged and hot to the touch, I rub it lovingly, stroking back and forth, up and down, side to side, whatever it will take to please her.

I want to please her. Badly.

Cindi groans loudly as my fingers increase their intensity. She falls on her back and raises her arms over her head. Her long, thick legs shake as my two fingers pinch her clitoris as I continue to stimulate her. With my free hand, I stick three fingers inside her vagina. Her womanhood welcomes my penetration, hot and moist, ready for her impending climax.

While my two hands work simultaneously to bring Cindi to orgasm, I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on it with reckless abandon. By now Cindi is moaning loudly, her deep masculine voice sending bellowing vibrations across the entire room. She is close and I know it.

Finally, Cindi climaxes and I feel her strong vaginal muscles contract around my fingers. I ease off her swollen clitoris and watch her body shake like an earthquake. Cindi’s heavy breathing makes me think about her pumping iron at the gym. Is this what she sounds like when she’s bench pressing or bicep curling?

I notice a small moisture stain between her legs on the bed sheet. This turns me on even more.

“God, that was amazing. I’ve missed that. Thank you.” Cindi’s heavy breathing subsides.

“You’re welcome. My pleasure.”

“Uh, no. My pleasure! And now, I shall return the favor.”

Sweating bullets, Cindi repositions herself so her head rests against the pillow and I’m on my knees looking down on her. She spreads her legs wide, inviting me to enter her Temple.

“Take me. Now.”

I have no response to that. None at all.

I look down at my penis and realize this is the last moment in my life that I’ll be a virgin. No more wondering what sex is like. No more being a loser. It’s time, Ryan. It’s time to become a man. A real man. It’s time to cross that sacred threshold and live life to the fullest!

We look at each other’s eyes. She’s grinning, exposing every age line on her face. I have no idea what expression I’m currently sporting. She nods, telling me to do it. She wants me to do it. She wants me to enter her.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, exhale, open my eyes, take one quick glance at Cindi’s face, look down at her moist engorged vulva, pinch the base of my erect penis with two fingers, grab her hip with my other hand, and….

I enter her.

With one smooth, gentle and loving movement, my penis enters Cindi North’s vagina.

Wow.

As we speak, at this particular moment, my penis is now inside a woman’s body. And not just any woman. A strong, dynamic, physically dominating female bodybuilder.

She feels warm inside. I can’t describe it any better than that. Warm. I peer up at her face and see Cindi has an even larger grin on her face. She feels proud of me, without a single judgmental bone in her flawless body.

“Make love to me, Ryan Takahashi.”

Once again, I fail to come up with a verbal response.

With me on top, I slowly rock back and forth, completely improvising everything. This is my first time! I have no idea what comes next. I’ve seen tons of movies and pornos, but this is the REAL DEAL!!! No amount of watching sex on camera can prepare you for this.

My pace increases as I gain confidence. Cindi kisses my neck and chest as I continue to pump into her. My strokes in and out of her become longer and more authoritative as I feel my orgasm build. I almost forgot, I’m supposed to experience pleasure from this too! I was so caught up in the idea of loving my virginity that I completely forgot about, you know…having fun.

Silly me.

My breathing intensifies as my orgasm engulfs my entire being. Cindi, meanwhile, grabs my face and kisses me hard. I quietly call out her name as our lips come apart. She calls out my name in response. We stare deeply into each other’s eyes as I reach my inevitable climax.

Nothing else matters now. There is no other world outside of this bedroom. Right now, all that matters is Cindi and me. Nothing else. For all I care, we could be the only two people on this Earth. There is no one else other than me and…

Oh, yes! YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With one last thrust, I reach the climax of my orgasm and release five hot squirts of semen into her. A couple of smaller squirts follow afterward. Maybe it’s because I’m caught up in the moment, but that might be the most pleasurable orgasm I’ve ever felt. Real sex is SOOOOOOOO much better than masturbation!

My spasms finally end. I kiss Cindi once more, this time with emotion. I feel my eyes water as I kiss her. I think I’m crying.

Wow. I never cry. But here I am, weeping like a baby. What’s making me do this?

Sensing my flood of emotion, Cindi strokes my hair and rubs my bottom. Still hard as a rock, my penis continues to be lodged inside her even though my ejaculation has finished. I let out a deep sigh and collapse onto her. Cindi hugs me affectionately.

“That was amazing, Cindi.” I can hardly think right now. There are too many emotions running through my mind. My heart is content beyond words. I’m not that excited that I lost my virginity. I’m happier that I got to make love to a wonderful, strong, compassionate woman.

“I agree. That was amazing.”

We say nothing for what seems like forever. All this time we’re laying in each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. Though softer and smaller now, my penis has still not left her vagina yet.

“I feel like a man now,” I finally manage to speak.

Cindi turns her head toward me and kisses my cheek.

“No, Ryan. You were always a man.”

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Thirteen – Dinner Party

The rest of my week flew by faster than a turkey on Thanksgiving morning. Tuesday turned to Wednesday, which turned to Thursday, which turned to Friday, which at last, after much eager waiting and anticipation, turned to Saturday.

Saturday! My date with Cindi North is finally here!

And a dinner date, no less. Very classy of us.

Cindi instructed me to bring a bottle of wine, so that is exactly what I will do. There’s a little wine and cheese shop about eight blocks away from my apartment. I visited it on Thursday after work. Believe it or not, I saw Monifa there buying a bottle of pinot noir and some fancy Swiss sharp white cheddar. Not only is she The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, Monifa has high-class taste.

I like her more and more.

I asked the employee working there what kind of wine he’d recommend (I like wine, but I don’t know much about it). He pointed to a moderately priced bottle of Beaujolais (it’s French, so it must be good!) sitting on a shelf behind him. I decided right then and there to go with that and immediately paid for it without looking at the other selections.

I hope my choice of something French will score me points. Perhaps I should have asked Monifa what kind of wine she likes. She seems to be a very urbane and cultured woman. This is definitely part of her charm. Ah, Monifa. She is SOOOOOOO gorgeous.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO gorgeous!!!

But enough about Monifa! This weekend is all about Cindi North, The Most Muscular Woman in the World. She told me to arrive at her house at 5 p.m., so I decide to leave my apartment at 4:30. I think thirty minutes will be enough to get me there.

In anticipation of Cindi seeing me naked, I went to the gym bright and early today to work out my arms, chest and hamstrings. I threw in the random leg exercise for good measure. The entire time I was busting my butt at Wellford Fitness Center I kept thinking about Cindi and her goddess figure. If that’s not enough motivation to torture your muscles for two hours, I don’t know what will properly motivate you!

At about 4:54 I arrive and park right by Cindi’s front lawn. I still have no idea which car is hers. I see three cars parked on her side of the street. One is red, the other is white and the other is black. I’m going to guess that her car is the black one. I have no idea why. It’s just a random guess.

With my bottle of moderately priced Beaujolais in hand (alright, if you must know, it cost me $46 plus tax. It’s not too much, but that’s generally speaking more than what I’d normally pay for a bottle of fermented grape juice), I approach her house as if it were a divine temple of worship. I’d worship Cindi’s body, no doubt about it. No Greek god ever had a body that was half as spectacular as Miss North’s.

Before I could extend my arm to knock on her door, the door opens and I see Cindi standing there to greet me.

Dear God! Even though it’s only been a week since I last saw her, seeing her again brings a whole new set of chills down my spine. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I will continue to be amazed of her large, muscular body. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to feasting my eyes upon it. Yowza!

“Ryan! You’re back! Come in!” Today she’s wearing gray sweatpants, a sporty t-shirt and a sweater. She looks like someone who just returned from the gym. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that’s exactly where she just came from.

“Hi Cindi, it’s good to see you after such a long week. I brought this.” I hand her the bottle of wine as I step into her house and take off my shoes. Taking off your shoes before entering into someone’s house is a very Japanese-y thing to do. I do it because I don’t want to get dirt on her carpet. It’s a pain in the rear to clean.

“Oooooh, it’s a French wine! And a Beaujolais. One of my favorites. Come in and make yourself at home. I’ve been cooking for the past hour and I think dinner is almost ready to eat.” Cindi takes the bottle of wine and goes back into the kitchen. After taking off my shoes I think about whether I should hang out in the living room or follow her into the kitchen. I decide to follow her to see what she’s preparing.

Wow, whatever it is, it smells really good!

I enter the kitchen and see Cindi mixing a salad together in a large green bowl. That salad must be taking the mixing of the century, judging from the size of her massive forearms.

“What are you making?”

“Something really healthy. I’ve cooked a vegan vegetable stew with a tossed arugula salad, quinoa and grilled asparagus. Just the type of good, nutritious food bodybuilders like us need to be eating,” she says with a silly grin.

“Ahem! Excuse me? Bodybuilders like us? You’re the only real bodybuilder here. I’m just a dude who works at a gym and exercises on a regular basis. I’m not even close to being in your league, sister.”

“I’m kidding, Ryan sweetie,” she says, kissing me on the cheek. “But to be honest with you, I consider everyone who works out their body on a regular basis to be a bodybuilder. Some are more…professional than others. And some are more accomplished than others, if that makes any sense.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I say, trying not to swoon from that kiss. “And I think you would definitely be put in the category of “more accomplished.” Did you work out today?”

“Yes I did. Today was legs. Never skip leg day!” Cindi puts down the salad bowl and opens the soup pot to check out the vegan vegetable soup. She stirs it slowly. My mouth proceeds to water.

“That’s right. Friends never let friends skip leg day.”

“The table is set and I think dinner is ready. There are two wine glasses on the counter. Grab them and I’ll join you in the dining room.”

“Alright.” I pick up the wine glasses and leave Cindi to tend to her last minute preparations. I set the glasses down at our respective spots (all the silverware and dishes are already in place) and take a seat. I can’t wait for dinner. It smells so delicious!

But mostly, I can’t wait for after dinner.

Yeah baby!

Cindi comes out of the kitchen with the salad bowl in one hand and a plate of grilled asparagus in the other.

“I’ll get the quinoa and I think we can then serve ourselves the soup.”

“I can’t wait. It smells divine.”

“Thanks. I hope it tastes divine as well. Uh, go ahead and serve yourself up.”

“Will do.” I take my soup bowl and follow her back into the kitchen.

Dinner was absolutely delicious, as expected. The soup was very good and had a rich aroma of various spices and flavors. The arugula salad made me almost want to become a vegan, but I still like meat. Speaking of which, our meal had absolutely no meat; just vegetables, starch and quinoa. Come to think of it, this might be the second or third time I’ve ever tasted quinoa.

Cindi and I talked for at least an hour about all sorts of subjects. Between sips of wine (which, I must say, was very delectable) we chatted about sports (BTW, Cindi can kick anybody’s butt at fantasy football), movies, observations about people at the gym (there are very specific groups of people at the gym who can all be neatly categorized. Trust us on this one), exercise in general and reminiscing on last week’s adventures.

“What really upsets me is when people sit on a bench and do nothing but talk on their cell phones, text or chat with their buddies. Other people want to use that, you know!”

“I totally agree!” Cindi exclaims. “That really pisses me off. Fortunately for me, I go to the gym when there’s hardly anybody there, so when idiots do show up I have other places to work out. But if it’s really busy, I’d just pick the guy up and toss him onto the streets.”

We both laugh. I can just imagine Cindi’s strong arms wrapping around some clueless dude and tossing him onto the side of the road. She wouldn’t do that, but she totally could.

“How do you feel about women who go to the gym and do nothing but run on the treadmill for 45 minutes and then leave?”

“You can do that in your neighborhood. Would it KILL you to pick up a weight every so often?” I can tell Cindi is a bit peeved that more women don’t weight train. She hates the stereotype of the ‘feeble, weak girl’ who can’t help herself. Cindi is anything but feeble and weak.

We laugh again.

As you can tell, we laugh a lot. A ton. Cindi is a very funny person. Who would’ve thought a massive, 6’4” female bodybuilder would also be hilarious in addition to possessing superhuman strength?

“Once again, I am so sorry I laughed at you after you came all over my face. I really didn’t mean to insult you. It was, like, the funniest thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

“Hey, no problem. I laughed about it too on the drive home. Don’t worry about it.”

“I have a good idea. How about instead of talking about the past, why don’t we create a whole new set of memories that will be a lot more positive?”

My right eyebrow raises up.

“Ah, new memories you say? What are you trying to say?” I hope she likes teasing. I think she does.

“Thank you for joining me for dinner. But we all know the real reason why you’re here.”

Suddenly, a weird feeling came over me. Yes, I am here to have sex with Cindi, but that’s not exactly the whole picture. Something about the way she said that made me feel strangely uncomfortable.

“True, but let’s hold on a minute. Aren’t we also here to become friends? I don’t mean best friends or the kind of friends who hang out all the time. I also don’t mean friends with benefits. But I’m not here just for meaningless sex.”

Cindi’s face became serious.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that. Not at all. I’m not implying our relationship is like that of a prostitute and her john. That’s not us. And I’m not ruling out the possibility of a friendship between us. I think we have very good chemistry together. Look at the time. It’s been almost an hour after we began eating and it feels like it’s only been ten minutes.”

“Wow. It has been an hour. Time flies when you’re having fun.”

There is a long silence. We stare at each other. This evening hasn’t had too many awkward silences. This is probably our first.

“I’m serious, Ryan. This relationship isn’t just about sex.”

“I know. I want to become friends.”

“I think we’ve become that already.”

“Really? But we’ve known each other for only a week. Is that enough time to become friends?”

“Sure it is. A friendship can start instantaneously and last a lifetime. That’s the beauty of friendships, no matter how unconventional.”

“Unconventional?”

“Yes. How many female bodybuilders are you friends with?”

“Only one. You.”

“And to be honest, I don’t have too many 23-year-old Japanese-American friends. You’re my only one.”

“I’m glad to be your only one.”

Cindi smiles. When she smiles it reveals the deep wrinkles around her eyes and age lines across her face. But I don’t see that as distracting from her beauty.

Yes, you heard me. I think Cindi’s beautiful.

Very beautiful.

“So….our friendship isn’t just based on sex?”

“That’s right. Not just sex.”

“But, we…uh, haven’t actually had sex yet.”

Pause.

A wicked grin flashes across her face. Almost instantaneously, Cindi rises from her chair, walks over to my side of the table, picks me up with her strong arms like a baby, kisses me passionately on the lips and carries me upstairs to her bedroom.

“Let’s change that.”

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Twelve – The Most Beautiful Woman in the World

I am convinced that Monifa is The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. There is no doubting my conviction in this. Granted, I haven’t met every single woman in the world, but compared to the supermodels and movie stars I see in magazines, Monifa beats them all by a mile.

A very LONG mile.

Monifa and I have been sitting at D’Angelo’s Café for nearly twenty minutes, chatting over lattes and grilled hummus sandwiches (which, I might add, are incredibly delicious!). Thankfully, Sam is nowhere to be found. It’s just the two of us, a couple of businessmen in the back, an elderly woman sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, Cathy and her assistant, Micah. Micah is a college student who’s studying art. And yes, he looks and acts like a stereotypical hipster. Whatever.

“I have to know, Ryan. If you could pursue your dream job, what would it be?” Monifa asks me.

“Hm. I would say I would love to be a professional biographer. I love reading biographies and think I would do a good job at writing one.” I’m not lying when I say this. Obviously, slaving away over smelly gym towels isn’t what I’d like to be doing for the next twenty years.

“Biographies? That’s so interesting. Is there anybody in particular you would like to write about?”

“Oh, no one really. I’m mostly fascinated with ordinary, average people who do extraordinary things with their lives.” I stirred a half package of sugar into my latte. I hope my waistline doesn’t object to this!

“So you have no interest in celebrities?”

“Or politicians, for that matter. I think they’re over-exposed as it is.”

I see Cathy eyeing us from her corner in the café. She’s fixing a sandwich at the moment, of which variety I cannot tell. She must be thinking how unusual it is for me to come in here with a beautiful black woman. The two of us do make an odd couple.

“I love adventure stories. You should write one of those.” Monifa’s posture is upright and proper. I don’t think she ever slouches in real life.

“What kind of adventure stories? I’m not really interested in writing any of those kinds of books, but I suppose I shouldn’t knock it unless I’ve tried it.”

Monifa smiles. Her face is so beautiful I want to take a picture of her and frame it on my wall. Her beauty transcends any feelings of lust or sexual attraction. Her beauty is like staring at a divinely perfect piece of art. If Cindi’s body is art, Monifa’s face is also art (but don’t get me wrong; her body is also VERY fine. But it’s obviously not as muscular or unusual as Miss North’s epic physique). I wonder how she can still be single. How can any heterosexual man resist this incredible woman?

“I like adventure stories involving most anything. The high seas, deadly volcanoes, mysterious islands, intergalactic planets, tropical excursions, pirate ships, anything. I guess this is what happens when your real life is so boring.”

“Boring? How could your life be boring? You’re a conceptual artist. Aren’t they the most inventive and wackiest of all people?”

Monifa lets out a quiet laugh. “I told you, conceptual art is my hobby. By day I’m a software tester. I wish I had more time to pursue art, but that’s what happens when you work too many hours in a cubicle.”

“Nonsense. I don’t consider what you do for a living to be your life. I think what you love to do to should define your life. Just look at me, for example. I work at a dead-end job cleaning mirrors, windows, dirty towels and locker room floors. That’s not even close to what I consider to be my life. It’s just what pays the bills.”

“I guess you’re right. I should find more time for my art.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what type of conceptual art do you do? I have little to no knowledge about this sort of thing.”

“Essentially, I like to fuse all sorts of art into a cohesive whole to tell a larger story. In Ethiopia, I briefly worked as an actress when I was a young girl. Then I started to do modeling. Then I got into photography. When I moved to America I took classes in filmmaking and drawing. Everything fascinates me. I feel like I’m great at taking big ideas and making them simple to understand.”

“Taking big ideas and making them simple to understand? That’s almost what a historian does. Except they work in recording human activity, not creating art.”

“They can almost be considered the same thing,” Monifa says.

Wow. That’s…kind of deep. Monifa takes a last sip of her coffee and places the cup on the table. Does she want a refill? Or does she want something else to eat? I told her when we first got here that I’d pay because she’s new and I wanted to welcome her to the neighborhood. I also pointed out to her that I’ll probably be the only neighbor that she’ll know in our building. The people who live there aren’t terribly open to meeting those who live no more than twenty feet away from them.

Almost on cue, Cathy walks over to our table.

“Hello you two. Can I get you anything else?” Cathy takes a long look at Monifa. I think she would agree with me that her beauty is almost beyond compare.

“No thank you,” Monifa says sweetly. I nod my head in agreement.

“Alright. Holler if you need anything. You know where I am.” With that, Cathy walks away and winks at me when she’s out of Monifa’s line of sight. Does she think we’re on a date? Who goes on a date on a Monday afternoon?

There is a long pause. Oh great. What should I say next?

“If you had unlimited resources and unlimited time, what type of…art project would you want to create?” Ah ha! I just asked an art question that allows her to express herself. When it comes to attracting intelligent women, I hope I’m on to something.

Monifa pauses to think and finally speaks: “I would love to create a series of tableaus. Do you know what that is?”

“Uh, sort of. It has something to do with pictures, right?”

“Yes, it has a lot to do with photography, but the type of tableaus I’m interested in created involve real people in real situations. I’d love, for example, to create a series of still images of people, all types of people, young and old, every body type, every shape, color and ethnicity, relating to each other in the real world.”

This is my chance to shine. I’ve read about artists doing these sorts of projects. If I can impress her with this, who knows how far I can go with her?

“You’re referring to a ‘tableau vivant.’” I smile as these words leave my mouth.

“Yes! A “tableau vivant!” You’ve heard the term before.” Monifa looks impressed with my knowledge of art. Score for me!

“I have heard the term before. They’re living pictures. So, you’d like to create living pictures of all sorts of people doing what they do in real life.”

“Not just real life; but in a surreal, enhanced version of life. Picture this: A large group of skinny, beautiful women surrounding a larger, overweight woman in a circle and pointing fingers at her, while the woman in the middle crouches over and weeps. Or a group of racially-homogeneous schoolchildren turning their backs to a mixed-race    child–”

“Or an interracial couple,” I blurt out. I hope my interruption doesn’t bother her.

“Yes, that would also be powerful, especially if the schoolchildren were in their teens.”

“What’s stopping you from pursuing this sort of project? I realize you said time is always a factor, but isn’t that just an excuse we use? I tend to think we use the “time” excuse because we’re afraid of what actually doing this project could lead to.”

“What do you mean?” Monifa finishes her sandwich and turns her attention completely upon me. Her dazzling black eyes pierce through me like an Olympic archer’s arrow.

“Well, I think we’re afraid of pursuing our dreams because we’re afraid we might fail, which wouldn’t just shatter you accomplishing our dreams, but your desire to dream of anything again. If our dreams remain fantasy, we can always take comfort in knowing that we’ll never fail.”

“But how do you know you’ll fail if you never try it? If you keep on wishing for things, they’ll never happen unless you take action.”

This is where I can definitely go in for the intellectual kill.

“Maybe this is why you should pursue your dreams instead of just talking about it.”

Silence. DEAD SILENCE. DEAD, DEAFENING SILENCE.

Just what I thought would happen. Dead, deafening silence. Monifa’s gorgeous face wrinkles as she thinks hard about what I just said. I genuinely hope she gets out of her artistic funk and pursues her photography, or whatever art she likes to do. It’s a damn shame when young people talk about wanting to do something but never even try to do it. Rationalizing your behavior can be the ultimate form of suicide.

Gee, I should write a book about this.

“You know what, Ryan? You’re right. You’re absolutely right, one hundred percent right. I should pursue my art. Of course, in small chunks. I can’t do everything overnight, you would agree?” I see that Cathy has returned to the back kitchen. I think she’s conceded that we’re not going to order anything else today.

“Of course, I completely agree. Start out small. Right now, you’re doing nothing. So doing something would definitely be an improvement. Start with something modest. How about creating two or three person tableaus? I’m sure we can totally find volunteers who’d be willing to pose for a few shots. Seattle is full of artsy-types who would do anything do get into the “art scene.’”

Monifa grins. “I’ll think about this. I’m confident I can get something off the ground. But I just moved here, so I–”

“Ah, ah, ah! There’s that thing about making excuses. Do you have a camera?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Is it unpacked?”

“No, but it’s not hard to find.”

“Great. Think about some ideas, and feel free to knock on my door any time to run them by me. My ear is always open to new ideas.” Holy shit, did I just give her an open invitation to come over to my apartment whenever she likes? I’m really getting bold.

“I would like that. I like you, Ryan. I’m glad we’re neighbors.”

“I’m glad, too.”

There is another period of silence, but this time it’s way more awkward. I think it is time for us to depart from here and go our separate ways.

“Pablo should be done with your unit by now.”

“Yes, he should be. I’ll pay for us.”

“No, no, no! Your money is no good here, at least not today. I’ll cover this, my treat.”

“Thanks! You’re very sweet.” Monifa leans over and kisses me on the cheek. I feel my entire body melt at the sensation of her soft lips covering my face. Is it possible to get a heart attack just by being kissed by a beautiful woman?

We get up, push our chairs in and I walk over to the counter. Cathy has since returned, reading a trashy fashion magazine.

“I’m paying for the both of us.”

“Who’s the girl, Ryan? She’s quite a looker,” Cathy whispers to me as I hand her my debit card. She swipes it and returns it to me. I put it back in my wallet.

“New neighbor. Next door. Sweet thing. I’m looking forward to getting to know her better.”

“Holy fucking shit. She’s gorgeous, honey. You better act fast or else someone else will, trust me.” Cathy’s advice is always straight and to-the-point. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that.

“I trust you, Cathy. I trust you. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Cathy says to me. “Bye!” she yells to Monifa as we head out the door.

“Good bye, Cathy. It was nice to meet you. You have a lovely establishment. I’ll be returning here often,” Monifa declares as we leave.

We stroll back to the apartment building across the street. Sure enough, Pablo is finished with his work. Monifa and I shake hands as we retreat to our respected units, separated by nothing but a thin, sound-proof wall. I close the door and collapse onto the couch.

“Wow, what a day. What a way to spend my Monday,” I tell myself.

Imagine this: I’m now next-door neighbors with The Most Beautiful Woman in the World and this Saturday I’ll be losing my virginity to The Most Muscular Woman in the World.

Not bad, Ryan Takahashi, not bad at all. Looks like I’m finally starting to move up in the world.

It’s about time!