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my goods.
    Back down he went. His nibbles becoming more like bites. He flipped me over again and really started going to town on my inner ass cheeks and around the danger zone of my starfish. He bit and sucked and moaned and wreathed around. I yawned. And then finally it was over. The Mister had finished his business. AMEN! He rolled over and fell asleep. Thank you for the little things.
    The next morn ing I awoke to him flat on his big back with the huge mound of a stomach facing up to the ceiling. He snored. I hated him so much. I got up and took a shower. My ass hurt, so I bent over to see what was causing all of the soreness. What I saw nearly made me blow a gasket! I had deep, dark purple bruises all over the inside of my ass. BIG ONES! I took a shower, heated by my rage. I wasn’t so much angry about the actual bruises as I was about him leaving his mark on me. Bruises take a long time to heal and that means I wouldn’t be able to have any other fun with a man for quite some time. I mean, no man wants to go down there and see that! It's like getting a gift that you know has already been unwrapped.
    When I got out of the shower and sufficiently felt lik e I had washed off the stink of last night along with the nauseating smell of sugar cookies, I got my phone and texted Janet, who would want a full report.
    It was the worst and he is still here, snoring like a giant fat asshole.
    She quickly texted back: I really need to talk to you. Meet me in twenty minutes for coffee.
    God, she was a good friend. Now I have an out. I walked over to John and poked him. “Hey!” I said loudly. “Wake up!” He began to move a bit and realized I was leaning over him with my hand s on my hips. “I need to go to work.” I lied. “You need to get up.”
    John tried to focus, completely disoriented and slightly confused. “Are you serious? What about morning sex?”
    “Not a fucking chance.” I poked him again to get him moving. “I need you to leave.”
    “Well, can I at least lay here for a bit and then take off when I wake up?” he asked.
    I felt like I was going to punch him in the mouth.
    “I have something I want to say to you and you are not going to like it.” I spoke clearly and calmly. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”
    He laughed, thinking I was kidding. “Are you serious? I thought we could get breakfast and maybe go to MOCA later.”
    “I don’t ever want to see you again,” I repeated calmly. He actually thought I was going to spend time with him after that disaster of a night? I supposed he thought there was a connection that would lead to picking out curtains together eventually. I didn’t see how he had gotten that. “I have to leave now. You can close the door behind you when you go. Have a nice day.” Have a nice day? What was I, a fucking slutty flight attendant? I opened the door and ran.
    When I came home several hours later, all traces of him were gone. He had even taken his fucking sausage and hummus, but… he had forgotten to take the red panties.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
     
    Now back to our friend Sam. I believe I’d just finished smacking him in the dick after demanding he put on the now infamous red panties. He reluctantly obeyed. I was delighted to see that they fit him perfectly and that he looked as ridiculous as I'd hoped. “You look like such a pretty little slut, loser!” I cheerfully teased. “Go clean my kitchen while I watch a movie.”
    He bowed. “Yes, Goddess.” He turned on his heels and began cleaning the kitchen, happily chatting about this or that, asking where I kept things or where to put something. He chirped away, but then I could tell he was beginning to feel a bit too comfortable. He started to ask some personal questions such as, “Where are you from, Goddess?” and “How long have you lived in L.A.?”
    “You talk to o much, slut,” I snapped. “Keep your nose down and work.” It hadn’t occurred to me that these subs would talk.