Diary Entry 16/01/2012
They say as boys grow up all they think about is sex and pussy. Seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, it's always on their minds.
In this case, the boy is a girl and that hot juicy pussy is a long, hard dick. But not just any ol' dick. Oh no!
There's one special dick belonging to one special man I desire.
A forbidden man.
A man who sees nothing of the quavering mess of desire I hide as my pussy pants and sucks at emptiness, my mind playing a high definition cinematic portrayal of me sinking at his feet and worshiping his shaft. Never has he suspected the fantasies I harbor of stroking and licking his masterful cock until his thick cum erupts onto my waiting tongue.
Why would he when I play the role of unassuming friend in his presence only to stroke between my thighs as his name whispers on my trembling lips behind closed doors?
No one else does.
And that's the way it will stay until the day my inner lioness roars to life and confesses the salacious nature of my feelings. But while she lays dormant, I vow to suck his cock clean and be a dirty, dirty girl in the dark recesses of my mind!
****
"Hey! Get your lazy behind out here or I'm going to drink all the coffee."
The threat makes me sit up in bed just as the annoying tool that signals morning beeps. My head instantly shrieks a protest and my eyes close against the light coming through the open window, the curtains blowing in the warm breeze.
I closed them last night.
Grumbling at Yuri's sneakiness, I automatically slap at the alarm clock like I did a few minutes before and flop back onto the mattress, pulling my pillow over my head.
A consummate night owl, "not a morning person" does not begin to describe my temperament most mornings and I am downright cruel without that first sip of coffee. Therefore, it is no surprise that I have been late for more than one appointment in my lifetime.
My roommate, best friend and general pain in the butt, Yuri Alvin sees it as his mission to get me out of bed and at work at what he calls a "decent hour" since we moved in together four years before.
He takes his job way too seriously.
His only saying grace is his magnificent skills at making coffee just the way I like. That and the fact that my punctuality saved me from losing more than one client since I started my bakery/catering business last year. Otherwise no one would find the body after I was done with him.
The soft bass of his voice comes through the half opened door as he sings slightly off tune to the oldies jam playing on the radio. I burrow my head deeper into the covers with another grumble. No one should be that cheerful in the morning even if he has a voice that can turn the entire glacial system into a giant puddle. His accent makes everything sound just a little better, something I find entirely unfair especially when I am mad at him.
"Bri!" he calls, banging a spoon against a pan.
"I'm up. I'm up," I yell the lie with as much energy as I can muster at the hour through a tiny opening in my makeshift pillow barricade.
Just one more minute...
"Brianne, don't make me come in there."
At the memory of the last time that happened, I push the covers aside with a muttered expletive. I will never look at a water pistol the same way again but then, neither will Yuri thanks to the split lip he earned for his efforts.
Feet safely encased in big bunny slippers, I throw a robe over the large T-shirt with an "I'm Tripping You If Zombies Are Chasing Us" warning across the front and lumber across the room. I am tempted to go out there with what was sure to be poofy hair and funky morning breath but female vanity pushes common sense at my still sleeping brain and I cross to our shared bathroom down the hall.
I do not glance in Yuri's direction. If I see the smile sure to be on his face, the Miami homicide statistics will be up a notch.
Teeth brushed, the boogers cleared out of my eyes and a few brush strokes through my shoulder length curls later, I cross the length of the apartment. The kitchen and living room are separated by a horizontal island where Yuri leans, his bare feet stretched out in front of him and his fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee.
Amber colored eyes twinkle behind small framed glasses as his lips twitch suspiciously. He passes me a cup of coffee which I take gratefully and says, "Good morning, sleepyhead. I see your sunny morning disposition isn't improving any."
Ignoring him, I adopt his pose and take that first sip.
There are certain things that make life worth living and though I have been told my priories are whooped, coffee is definitely near the top of my list. My eyes roll back in my head and I moan as the black liquid sweetened by precisely two cubes of sugar hit my tongue. The taste, the aroma, the rich, dark color, the kick that powers every single cell every time I take a sip, I love everything about coffee. It is my addiction and I freely admit it.
Yuri's chuckle forces my eyes open.
Full length jeans cover his long limbs and an unbuttoned plaid shirt is folded over his forearms. From his belly button, a thin line of hair runs down to disappear into the low hanging pants. His chest is smooth otherwise, the hardness of his pecs decorated by two small brown nipples.
Suddenly I feel far more awake and my cells stirred with heat that has nothing to do with coffee. Ignoring the sensation, I continue to study him under a hooded gaze.
The tanned quality of his skin shows his mixed heritage. Born to a Brazilian mom and a father of Jamaican descent, Yuri was born and raised in Maryland. His family moved to Miami when he was nine years old. We met in the fifth grade and have been best friends since I kneed a bully in the nuts for knocking him down.
His eyes are darker now though the teasing smile still plays along his lips. I notice the way he smells then. Hot, clean male and forest scented soap. It laces with the vapors coming off my cup and makes it brighter, more potent. Hundreds of times more addictive.
"In the land of the living yet?" he asks with a flash of straight, toothpaste commercial teeth that took years of orthodontist visits to perfect.
"Barely," I groan and take another sip of coffee. "Why does it feel like I only closed my eyes a few minutes ago?"
"Maybe because you went to bed late last night?" he gestures at my still open laptop and notes lying on the couch. "These last nights are bound to catch up to you."
"I had to take care of some last minutes details for a corporate event Lovely and I are catering later."
Lovely St. Rose is my business partner and friend. Quite obviously the talent of our small business since I can't boil an egg without running the pot dry, Lovely left the business end of things to me and we've made quite a growing success out of what so many doomed a failure.
"I'm glad business is doing so well but it's okay to take some down time, you know." He lightly bumps my shoulder with his and sends me a worried look.
"I know. I just really want this to work. I'm finally taking control of my life and-" I stop my tirade quickly as he watches me quietly. "I'll take a vacation soon, I promise," I finish in a tone that is too bright even to my ears.
"I'm proud of you, kiddo. You know that, don't you?"
