A Happy Memory

Everyone (I hope) has treasured memories tucked away in the corners of their minds -- mementos of better days that can make us smile secretly while the world is trying to break us down. Here is one of my best memories that I trot out when the phlebotomy gal is Dracula-ing my veins or the pain level is unreasonable and uncomfortable:

It's mid-afternoon in Norcal  and I am driving along the 280 - the beautiful if somewhat tricky highway that runs between the foothills and the sea. I am tooling along in my white Nissan T-top, A little car that thinks it is going to be a convertible sports car when it grows uo...

I'm wearing mirror shades, A white linen suit (Armani knockoff) and an aqua t-shirt. All in all, I look like I am somebody. Sometimes even FEEL like somebody.

Sitting to my right in the passenger seat is a visitor from the East, A true redhead called Moni. She is wearing a green tank top and nothing below the waist. Moni is playing with her pussy with both hands, at my direction. Her left hand is tugging up on her fiery red bush while she two-fingers her clit with her right hand.

Both of us are having a great time.

Moni  is a deep submissive who has wanted to carry on a Master/Slave relationship, over a continent's distance. I wasn't really that kind of committed player, especially not over long distances; too much responsibility if done correctly, and too much possible heartache if done too casually... so we decided to drive around and talk it over...

There is surely something special about redheaded, half naked, green eyed women, notably when they are trying to talk you into something big while finger-polishIng their furry coochie. Aspiring politicians might take note of this...

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," I said.

"I LIKE to get hurt!" She replied.

"No, I mean emotionally damaged. You need to find someone local who will guide you and take care of you on a daily basis."

"Oh pooh! I can feel you spiritually over the phone..." Moni grabbed her hard pink clitoris between two fingers and gave a vicious looking twist. "Right now I wanna cum! Please may I cum? Huh, please Sir?"

Sheesh. One track mind and cunt to match. "OK, I'll give you a count down from ten -- if you can't orgasm by one, you're spending the rest of the afternoon with a kitchen whisk shoved up your ass." 

"Promises, promises" she smirked. I should have considered who I was dealing with and tailored my threats accordingly.

"Ten, nine, eight-- I counted. When I got to three, Moni gasped and gushed all over my fake leather car seat. All part of the traffic flow in the 280, you might say...I took the next exit, and she wriggled into her bottoms as we pulled into a Menlo Park Pub for a couple of warm English beers. We talked and talked until we had worked out our differences -- sort of -- and then went off into a glorious Peninsula sunset. Moni  went back home and found a dom who suited her needs and I continued on with my casual toppish ways.

So I may not remember where I left my glasses or what day it is, but I will never forget driving along the wooded ridge, looking good and feeling fine, with a half naked redhead masturbating next to me in my open top convertible; the sky the limit and anything possible... I hope, Dear Reader, that you have as good memories of your own.

a.