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A Gangsta and My Menage a Trois

By: Mia L. Hazlett

5/4/12

My day winded down.  As my second foot landed inside the train, I left my exhausted day on the platform.  I seated myself and exhaled looking forward to the first-degree activities of the evening. I had thought about them all day.  Now, only hours before pure ecstasy would envelope me, my fatigue faded.  I could only think of my bed,  wine, and the two men that would put me to sleep.  This wasn’t our first time together.   But it had been so long since we had rendezvoused, that I almost couldn’t contain my excitement.  I could already hear Sam’s melodious voice in my ear, as I swallowed…the sparkling Moscato.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of James.  I’ve never been able to.  I always thirst for more from him, because he always delivers.

I ran into my house to accelerate my evening routine.  I had only two hours to prepare myself  for a night of complete sensuality. I had seen James on the train and if I’d not had this pre-planned, I would have opted for the spontaneity.  But he knows just how to keep me wanting more.   So patience prevailed and I prepared for my guests.  I took the bottle of Moscato from the fridge and placed it in the freezer, prior to my shower.  The phone rang as I stepped from the shower.  Caller ID prevented me from answering.  I knew if I started talking to my friend, our conversation would flow over into menage time.  Sorry.  I wasn’t  in the mood for talking tonight.

Sam arrived first.  He whispered in that soulful voice something about we were having a party. As I rolled to my side, he said, “That’s where it’s at.”  Oh how I loved him.  He knew just what to say.  I listened as he caressed my ears with his words, and sipped on my ice chilled sparkles.  I don’t know if it fit the occasion, but I completely melted when he calld me, Sugar Dumpling.

It was finally time for James, who had patiently sat waiting next to me on the bed.  I reached for him and picked up where we left off on the train.  Unlike Sam, there was no courting dance.  As James enticed me, I became instantly lost, but could faintly here Sam saying, “Bring it on home to me.”  He always got me when he said that.  My wine, my favorite two men, what could be better?

I heard a thumping outside my door, but was more caught up in James than any possible distraction.  Suddenly the door was open and I was face to face with Gangsta K.  No matter where I hid, she always found me.  Why tonight?  Why right now?  I deserved this night.  Shouldn’t she be asleep, rather than hunting me down?  I put James on hold, but Sam would allow no one to ruin his flow.  He continued without missing a beat.  I watched her move towards my purse.  She hunted inside and pulled out the purple package.  It all came back to me now.  I had seen it in my purse the other day when she was hot on my heels.  I thought nothing of it, because I just wanted to avoid her at all cost.  But now she held the evidence.  I couldn’t even negotiate.

I asked what she wanted?  “The money.  You owe me money.”  She shook the package at me.  “Just take it and leave me alone.” By now, James had left.  But before I could stop her, she was in bed with me and Sam.  There was nothing I could do, but accept her under my covers, finish my wine, and listen to Sam tell me a change is gonna come.

************************************************************

Now get your mind out of the gutters.  I’ve had a bit of writer’s block when it comes to fiction, so I thought I would try something new with this post. In layman’s terms this is what happened.  I was tired when I got on the train the other night.  I decided early in the day that I was going to relax when I got home.  I was going to have a glass of wine, curl up in bed with my new James Patterson book, all the while listening to Sam Cooke.  I got home and rushed through the nightly routine.  Everything was going as planned, until my youngest burst on in demanding a dollar for the wallet she made me a week ago.  I didn’t know what she was talking about, so she went to my purse and took it out – shaking it at me.  I told her to go into my wallet and take out a dollar because I wasn’t getting out of bed.  I closed my book and downed the rest of my wine.  I was so tired at this point that when she climbed in the bed, I didn’t have the energy to fight her.  We fell asleep to Sam Cooke’s, A Change is Gonna Come.  

11 thoughts on “A Gangsta and My Menage a Trois”

    1. LOL!! I thought it might catch some attention. I’ve tried to go back to writing some of my books and have been at a complete loss. But I know sometimes I just need to keep writing and it will come back.

      1. I know what you mean. I’ve been having some writer’s block too. I just make myself start typing…but it shows… 😦

      2. It’s been sad since I’ve tried to jump back into my books a couple of weeks ago. That is the longest most creative flow I’ve had in a while.

      3. Just a secret, but I’ve been asked to write one too. I just don’t even know where to start… 😦

      4. Non-fiction. Self help for surviving childhood sexual abuse…I survived but how do you write that down?

      5. Here’s the thing. I’ve NEVER once told anyone any details. I freeze up. I talk about it generally, but details..no way. The words will never come out. I have always used humor to divert. Maybe I’ll start there. I was hoping I had enough posts about it that I could just regurgitate those up, but I guess book writing is more complicated than blog writing..

      6. It does require much more detail and the parts must flow. Maybe try and find a post that you like or write the first chapter as separate posts and see what type of response you get. Sometimes once you start it will all just come.

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