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[tabooaffinity-blog]

#monday #morning #la #wanderbards (à Angels Flight)

[tabooaffinity-blog]

Love Makes Me Crazy

1pm, I was done packing and thought of him. After a one-minute consideration on how to open up a conversation without being too clingy, I had an idea, “Hey daddy, how is your day? Do I need to check out or anything?”

“No baby.”

“So I just leave?”

“Yes baby, I will take care of the rest.”

“Thank you. How are you today? Did you miss me this morning?”

“LOL, yes, baby. I miss your long legs wrapped around me.”

“Miss you too, daddy. I hope to see you soon.”

Airport is always my favorite spot. I feel so much freedom there- it is the extra time given to my life. I like watching people coming and walking by and reading books. At this moment, I just could not stop thinking about him and our sex. I liked the passion and excitement during the sex, even thinking about it turns me so on. He never let me be in control, which only makes me really, really want to roll him over and do some work for him. But I did enjoy being guided by him, pleasing him. I knew it was going too far, so I started to think about Russell. Interestingly, usually thinking about Russell made me sad, but not this time. Oh, my Daddy-O. Just like that, a slight flashback of his image made me smile.

Home, after a nice hot bath, I poured myself a glass of wine, checking my phone. No new message. “Home safe. It was really fun. I had a good time. Thank you, daddy. Hope to see you soon.” I just lied on the couch, enjoying my wine, thinking back the night we had champagne in the room- the way he tasted it, checked the bottle, called the concierge, went out off the car at the airport, met me at the door, walked towards me, held me and looked at me. Oh, I miss him.

I looked at our text messages, and then I realized for the whole time, I never stopped smiling. He made me really happy. Yes, I liked him. I had this very strong feeling for him. He could also surprise me by exceeding my expectations. I really want to see him again; it would be fun.

No reply from him. Well, good night, Daddy-O.

8:17am, his text woke me up, “I am glad you got home safe. Mmm, baby, miss you.”

Oh it turned out he cared. “You’re such an early bird.”

I went back to sleep. There, I had a dream. We met again, sipping champagne by the pool. We started to kiss, and his hand was down there playing with me. I gave him a shy look and climbed on top of him, kissing his neck, ears. Then he grabbed my ass.

I woke up feeling too much heat. Well, that was really a hot dream. The whole pool scened dragged my mind back to Vegas, where I went to those pool parties. Will it make a difference if Russell was there with me? Well, I don’t care; now that I have my Daddy-O.

I posted my pictures taken in LA on Facebook, and on one I wrote: I refused to love, for love makes me crazy. Now I am crazily in love. I placed that one at the very back, so that one would normally not be able to find it.

“Hey, Cece, you back yet?” Kylie texted me. Oh this girl, she must either want to get brunch or go for a hike.

Guess it was too late to hide since I posted photos on Facebook, “hey there, yea.”

“Yaas, you’re up. Wanna go to that place for brunch? It’s still early. We can make it this time.”

“Sure. When?”

“I just woke up, give me half an hour. I will come pick you up.”

“Ok.” I knew what half an hour meany in this girl’s dictionary. So I allowed myself another 15 minutes in bed.

40 minutes later, a message from Kylie, “I am almost done.”

“Cool. No rush.” I was already all dressed and checked who liked my photos. Under the temptation of the Facebook interface, I couldn’t help but typed in his name. It was easy to get his name- when we checked in, he just randomly put his ID out; as opposed to Russell, who had me waited in the lounge; I knew he was protecting his information from me. Huh, boy, you do think there are things that I don’t know?

18 minutes later, Kylie messaged me to come down and meet her. I quit the app and went downstairs.

“Hey you, why are you up so early? That is not like you at all”

“Haha, I am trying to be a better person. Start the day earlier to get more time.” Once again, she seemed very serious, but I knew that was just a joke to me.

“Yup, start the day earlier to squeeze in line of that brunch place that does not take reservation.” I teased her. We both chuckled.

“Come on, I deserve a little bit reward for getting up early. This brunch would really motivate me to work. So Cece, how was your trip? Aw, I am jealous. I want to go to LA again.”

“It was nice. My boyfriend and I stayed in this hotel that hosted pool parties. We were there right after I landed and partied a bit.” Well, in this version, I had a boyfriend in LA, which was the best explanation that I went there in the middle of the week.

“Come on, you are just partying all around.”

“Well, eh, you know me.” I smirked. We both laughed.

“You did any shopping?”

“Well, you tell me.”

“Oh, I really want to go back to LA again. I would never get tired walking around the Rodeo drive. Last time I was there……” So she started to blahblahblah, and I did not want to listen to those. My head was still full of Daddy-O. It did feel good when I said the word “boyfriend” to refer to him. Hey, Cece, what’s wrong with you- again, I went too far.

“So Cece tell me about your boyfriend. What is he doing in LA?”

“Aw, you paparazzi. He is working there. He also travels a lot for work. So I have time, and I go to see him. You know what they say about long distance- we have no time to fight, and the time we meet is so precious, thus we don’t waste it and take full advantages of it.”

“Wow, girl.” We both laughed.

She started to talk about her own personal matters, and I loved that. I felt safe while others talked about themselves. That was why I have always been a good listener. When they talked, they revealed themselves, and I did not need to uncover myself. So I would never be seen through. There were just parts in me I did not want to be known.  I wanted to be safe, and I could only hold onto myself. Once anyone knew about Daddy-O, they would start judging me, blaming me with their high moral standard, as if they have never done one single thing wrong. I did not know if there was a hierarchy in wrong doing. But I definitely did not want to risk. Me being open-minded never equaled to others should do the same.

After so much wrong I have done, what did I have to judge? At this moment, I just really wanted to be indulged in my affair with Daddy-O. It was a dream. I had never had a dream after Russell, who brought me into the dream and woke me up.

That night at the dinner table, I told him how much I loved the trip, even though most of it I spent myself, which of course, I didn’t tell him. I was just desperate enough to tell me that he was the only single one so far that I did not do subtraction on his impression- not that he did not do anything that upset me, it just I didn’t want to lose him, so I forgave him. While I was saying that, I clearly was trying to stop the flashbacks in my head that plays the scene where he put me in another hotel, and the next day I came back, his drawer was filled with used condoms. Neither would I forgot the way he looked at me, those innocent eyes. I thought there were more things that he did to me that made me happy, but all I could think of was how he let me sit away when he checked in at the hotel, probably to keep his personal information from me; how he suddenly called me and told me I should change hotel; and how he just asked me what I was doing when I went to the gym to meet him as told.

Well, he did tell me he liked my legs; he did check in with me after the first night; he also told me he wanted to spend more time with me. But these would not beat the fact that he just let me go and did not respond my texts, blocking my number, putting a condom on and unhappy after finding out the condom slipped. I guessed I was just nothing to him, or too much. Anyway, it didn’t matter anymore. He left. I didn’t want to force him. I probably did not want those days when I was crying insanely out of control and all I could think was how to compose a message that he could reply and would not lose my pride. I  already did not have pride or dignity in front of him. To him, I was no more than a girl with lots of drama and emotional attachment. I hated to be like that, but I knew that was how I looked, because I was in love, or desperate because I could not get his love, or even like.

I didn’t hate Russell. I just wanted to know what I had done wrong, so I could fix it, and maybe, maybe he could like me again. But why would I be thinking this right now? I had Daddy-O, whom I should be thinking. Daddy-O took care of me, and he loved me. At least he cared. But Russell was still in my mind. I somehow could not adjust myself to be out of Russell’s shadow. Daddy-O proved that I was still lovable, then why would Russell abandon me?

[tabooaffinity-blog]

Hello, Daddy-O

The first one to get off the plane, I landed in LAX at just the expected time, putting make up on before the crowd comes in the bathroom. Walking through the cheesy shops and restaurants, I ignored all other people’s gazes with no mood to talk to any of them, well, mostly the do not seem worth chatting from the observation through my sunglasses, heading right down to the terminal to see him. His face was so vague, and I could hardly recall. At the same time I just really want to see him, excited and nervous a bit- that’s why I did not even go to the lounge and get myself a glass of wine.

Anticipation is a long process. I have never wanted to give out time this much. Fifteen minutes later, I couldn’t help but texted him, “Hey I landed, see you at terminal 2.” Then I went back to browse my Instagram feeds.  

One minute later, “Hey baby, a little bit traffic here. Be there soon.” I looked at the mirror, checked my lips. Well, at least he did not stand me up. I turned around, looking at people being picked up, thinking which one will be him, that Lexus? Hmm. The white car did not really match him. How about that Audi? Oops, a woman driver.  

“At the light, baby. Black BMW.” I smiled, checking my eyeliners and my hair, preparing to see him at any minute.  

Like in the movies, a black BMW in front of me, he opened the door, while I held my breath. There he was, with a big smile, shiny white teeth, oh no, not just his teeth, his whole body was shining, “Hello, baby.”  

I looked at him, smiled, walked towards him and gave him a hug. “Hey, how are you?”  

He kissed me, putting my luggage away, opening the door. Then he kissed me again after seated, looking at me as if I were a piece of uncarved jade. I took my sunglasses off, “Hi.”  

“I am so glad you came here. How was your flight?”  

“It was alright. I am the sleeping-on-the-plane type.”  

He laughed, “good, cause you are going to be exhausted,” smirking. My eyes met his, and I quickly looked away.

“Are you excited to be here?”

I looked at him, nodding my head.  

He smiled, kissing me again. I liked the dimples he got.  

We got to our room. He just couldn’t wait for another second. While I put down my purse on the table and turned to him, he was all ready to take me. His hug was warm and gentle; his kiss revealed how he really thought- he was desperate to have me, every bit of me.

Sex was great. It was new to me. He was totally doing it the way I love, wild, rough and exhausting; I liked to feel that he really, really wanted me. We started out at the counter, then the window, and yes, the bed. I like that we talked, he grabbed my hair and simply the fact that his big package in me.

After two hours, he finally took a break, telling me that his head was spinning. I laughed, climbed on him, started to kiss him again. On top of him, I looked closely at his face; his teeth were so white, and I just couldn’t help kissing his dimples all over again.

6:47pm, he asked me, “You thirsty baby?”

I nodded. He grabbed the phone, “ Time for some champagne,” in addition to his signature smile. His eyes were shining again, that I felt like he was so innocent and so passionate. I chuckled, exhausted by the sex, rolled over the bed, stretched, looked at him from the corner of the pillow, smiled.

“So Cece, what are you studying?” He just laid there in bed, looked at me, again, with his signature smile, something that I just could not resist.

“Art.” I was fixing my hair, well, more of showing off.

“Art or art history?“

Interesting, I didn’t expect he would say that. So I turned to him, moving towards him, “Fine art, daddy.”

“What kind of art you like?” He started to touch me, as if he was appraising a piece of jewel.

“I prefer something less known.” I played with his fingers; he was still listening. Well, I guess he wasn’t just random chatting. “Dada-ism.”

“Oh,” he nodded.

I felt he wanted me to continue, or more so, I felt the need to explain. After all, how many people are there in the world that knew about art? “It was started by some European artists in the 20th century. I love their teasing in art, even the name itself was so random and spontaneous, but full of sarcasm.” I slowly laid on him as I was talking, “Do you like art?”

“Well,” he started to touch me through my neck, and all the way down, gently, “I used to be a fashion designer.”

I was surprised, and at the same time, embarrassed for my being all cocky and know-it-all. He obviously knew way more than I do. So I went silent and rolled to face him, kissing his chest.

“We used to do world travel. From New York city, to Milan, Paris, to Dubai, then Hong Kong, Tokyo, and back to LA.”

My face had shown how exciting that trip sounded. So he continued, “We took the samples from Europe and manufacture in Asia. It was fun. Do you like traveling baby?”

“Well, you tell me. You are asking someone that just flew 4 hours,” I put two hands to support my jaw and looked at him, “to see you.”

He obviously liked this answer, held me and kissed me.

Room service was here. Much as though I tried to control myself and look cool in front of him, I was still very pleased to get to ask people around to do things for me. I have stayed in nice hotels before, but this is the first room service in a fine hotel penthouse.

8:39 pm, he walked out from the shower. I handed him the belt and slowly moved to help him dress. “Alright baby, I have put my card on this room. Get yourself a spa, room service. I will come see you tomorrow evening, ok?” He then called the valet and walked towards the door, and I was just looking at him the whole time, smiling at him with all the possible affection I could have. Then he stopped and turned back to me, “Mmm, baby, I can’t have enough of you.” He kissed me, grabbed me firmly. Yes, that’s what I want.

Waking up the next day, the first thing in the morning was to call and book a spa. I couldn’t stop but thinking about the moment he mentioned I could get a spa, and that fluke I was hoping for when I signed the bill to charge Russell’s room two months ago. One offered to take care; the other one refused to pay. But it was just so ironic that I stopped myself from going deeper into him than Russell; because I thought I loved Russell, even though I knew I was just desperate for things that I couldn’t get.

As I was lying down in the spa room, for the first time in these two months that I did not cry from thinking about Russell. In fact, Russell did not even come to my mind. During that time right after leaving Russell for home, I could not stop thinking about him at all, all day and all night. I would text him those long paragraphs after carefully placing each word to sound funny and not too weird or clingy, and yes, running grammar check. In that yoga practice, it was that very moment when the instructor said “let go” for like the one thousandth time, that I literally placed him out of my mind, with lots of unstoppable running tears. Yet when I was done with that yoga practice, I got a text from Russell, and all the scenes we were together just kept playing in my head. After the spa, to remedy my love for Russell, I thought of his face, more like, tried not to forget his face.

I was not sure if it is the alcohol mixed with jet lag or the chemical that has been missing for so long and finally reactivated because of the nice treatment that made me feel just so good about myself again, that when I even chose the hotel town car service to the museum.

Yesterday he said he would come in the evening; I thought I would leave for the hotel around 5pm. One second later, I thought maybe 430pm, to save time freshening up myself, and eventually, I went back to the hotel at 4pm- I knew I was excited, very excited to see him that I could even do the least favorable thing, waiting. Going back to the hotel, I tried calming myself down, drinking water, sitting down, reading newspapers. But I couldn’t; there was only one sentence in my head- he is coming later. So I re-applied my makeup, changing the degrees of blush. Then I got his text, “Hey baby, can’t today. How are you? Been thinking about you all day.”

Well, I looked at myself in the mirror and quickly decided that I would just go to the hotel rooftop bar.

The view was nice. Like usual, there were guys checking on me at the bar. But I wasn’t interested in any of them- who would be so available on a Tuesday afternoon for a drink in some hotel bar? The young ones didn’t seem to be staying in this hotel. The old ones, well, I already got one. Oh, my Daddy-O. Then his face came up to mind- when he got off his car, he looked so young and just shiny. If I still believed there was something called love at the first sight, my electric shock happened right at that moment when I was lost in the bustling crowd, my focal point guided me at this figure. “I’m good. Miss you too. How’s your day?” So I texted him back.

The next day, I decided to go shopping. My plan was to immerse myself in the sea of dresses and shoes, but while I was walking in the resting area, I had a detour. A father was chasing his little daughter, under that soft warm sunshine. They were wearing such big smiles on their faces, as if even the father was a little kid. That had me think about what would happen if I still had Russell’s baby. I’ve seen Russell’s picture with his little son, and he loved his little boy so much, from his face and his smile. He looked so happy in that photo. If I still kept the baby, I might be watching Russell and his son playing, with another coming child of his in me; well, of course, if we were still together. He would look much better than the father that I was looking at. On our first night together, he asked me whether he looked good enough for me after the shower, because I told him I dressed up for him.

Walking into the shop, I tried to stuff my feelings away with those fancy dresses. In the fitting room, I got Daddy-O’s text, “Hey baby, working on my schedule. How are you today? I can’t wait to see your little sexy body.”

I smiled, “I’m fine. Can’t wait to see you either.” Then I sent him a photo of me in the fitting room. His text got me something to look forward to, so I quickly paid my bill and headed back to my hotel.

Sitting in the hotel room, I kept changing my make-up and dresses and finally found one combination that looked exceptionally cute and could outline my personal features. I sat by the window, skimming through the magazines and Instagram, watching the cars through my full-length glass window in the penthouse suite, guessing which one would be his.

After two-hours lying by the window, his text re-activated my blank head, “Baby, are you at the hotel? On my way. Be there at 745.”

“I will wait for you. See you soon.” That was another half an hour to kill, but a small part of my heart wondered if he would come earlier.  So I poured myself some scotch, checked my makeup and kept hoping the at the next intersection, a black car would turn left, and he would be at my door.

7:51pm, “Got in traffic. Be there soon.”

“I can wait.” At least he didn’t stand up on me, at least he was coming.

8:09pm, “I’m here. What’s the room number again?”

I quickly put on my heels, texted him the room number, fixed my hair. 4minutes later, he knocked the door. I smiled, went up to open the door. Seeing me at the door, he dropped his briefcase, didn’t waste a second but to hold me in his arms, kissing me. “Mmm, baby, I miss you.”

So I grabbed him firmer. He put me on the sofa, started to undress himself. I looked at him; he quickly unzipped and kept kissing me. I was already so wet.

“Do you miss me, baby?”

“Yes.” I nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about you all the time. This morning when I was fucking my wife, you were the one in my head.”

I rolled over and climbed on top of him.

“You naughty little girl. Ugh, I really wanted you, all of you.”

“You have all of me, daddy.“

“You’re my bad girl, aren’t you?“

“Yes, daddy.”

“You like fucking old guys, don’t you?”

“Only you, daddy.“

“Are you daddy’s little girl?”

“Yes, daddy. I am yours.”

Our sex was just so good that neither of us wanted to stop. I realized some part of me has been associated with him.

9:57pm. “Alright, baby. I have to go. It was good to see you.”

I kissed him, “are you taking me to the airport tomorrow?”

“No, sorry I can’t baby.”

I still didn’t want to let him go, staying in his arms.

“Have the hotel get a car for you, ok? Safe flight, baby.” He patted me.

It was nice to wake up in such a big penthouse where the sunlight was filtered at the right degree of brightness. Walking to the club house for some morning refreshments, I smiled at the men in suits in front of the morning news, whose conversation about the currency that I overheard. I passed by them to get some water; they followed. “No tea for you?”

“No, water is fine.” I looked down and saw the rings on their hands, “business trip?”

“Half half. How about you?”

“Oh, I am just here on vacation.”

“Alone?”

“Ha, yes.”

“Wow, you are a brave girl.”

I smiled.

“How long are you staying?”

“In fact, I am leaving this afternoon.”

The brief conversation made me feel like I have become one of them, or at least, a totally different person than I was, which I enjoyed a lot.