Putting the Madge in Danna (8 page)

Comments:5

Native Americans like
girls who can suck cock.Bluejay Hawk, New York
Be careful, Danna, because
Madonna got pregnant fucking her gym rat.Julia
Czardzinski,Minneapolis,MN

What is this foolishness? I call police.
Identity theft is crime. Dannika good girl is.Auntie Sofia,
Toronto, Ont., Canada

Where’s the brother fuck?Call
me!Tyrone,Atlanta,GA

It’s no act. Aug.
29
^th
.
Marriott Hotel. Room 1022.Rob, NY, NY

****

Indian Giver

Saturday, August 1, 2009 - 3:00am

I met Zeke at the gym at around 8:45pm. I
was supposed to be there at 8:00pm but Zeus had called unexpectedly
from Japan. He had said he’d wanted to hear my voice because there
was a small earthquake, and the Skype wasn’t working. That scared
me a little. It never occurred to me that something like an
earthquake could come between us. I started thinking about all the
creepy things in life that could ruin our lives, like plane crashes
and natural disasters or a fight over the TV remote, separating us
for life.

I thought, maybe I should give up my vision
quest? I wanted him to promise me he’d never travel to Japan again.
Zeus assured me that everything would be okay, because he would
never let any of that terrible stuff happen. He would use the
powers of the gods and move heaven and earth to make sure we would
be together, and I believed him, although I still made him promise
and didn’t stop badgering him until he did.

Our religion
is
pretty fucking
powerful, truth be told. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been
called a good luck charm because of it. Mr. Cochran tells me that
all the time – apparently our business grew exponentially when I
came on board Eiffel Travel, but that might have been because
everyone in my church congregation starting booking through me (due
to the fact that they like working with their own kind). Of course,
Zeus is always right too, naturally, which helped me off the
irrational track.

Anyhow,
last
time we had spoken,
Zeus and I hadn’t really actually talked all that much. Mostly we
grunted as we masturbated on screen. I wore a little dotted-swiss
babydoll that ties at the boobsies, paired with the highest heeled
stilettos they sell at Macy’s. I pranced around sexily until I was
wet enough to begin stroking myself in front of the camera.
Rub-a-dub, and I could feel the prickly hair from my mon-mons as it
nestled against the chiffon fabric of my matching panties. So
tickly! Well, off they came. With my fingers wetted with succulent
pre-cum, I began a tweak, tweak to my nipsey-russells.

“
You are so beautiful,” he
said. “So beautiful.”

Zeus had on a black silk kimono robe that
his Japanese clients had given him as a gift. It had these
impressive embroidered dragons on the shoulders. They seriously
looked like they could spit fire, especially when Zeus started his
Zorba dance to the Japanese music emanating from the stereo system
in the hotel room. Right after he squatted between kicks, he
disrobed. I had turned for just a second to look demure as I gave
my remark.

I said, “What are you going to do to me?
Will you give my you-know-what a special gift? I’d like the big
kazoo, please.”

When I looked back at the screen, he had it
whipped out and started using it as a sort of spinning
handkerchief. His cock obviously didn’t twirl, of course.

“
Dani, the next time I see
you,” he said, “I’m going to jam the big kazoo down your throat.
Next I’m going suck the life out of your little pinky. I’ll get
your cuntessa so wet that you will be begging for it. Begging to
have me inside of you, like a key in that keyhole of yours.
Unfortunately you won’t be able to speak due to your gag.” He
continued to dance and I watched his balls bounce around as he sped
up the performance. He looked like an Olympic athlete from Ancient
times. I imagined that back then the marathon runners must have had
to hold their cocks as they ran all those miles or else they’d have
felt all bumpity-bump the way boobsies feel when you run without a
bra. “Then when I release you,” he continued, “you will hop up on
my rigid cock and get a pounding you won’t soon forget.”

Mmm-mmm,
I thought.
Yes,
please
.

I love looking at Zeus’ naked body. He gets
such a nice tan in the summer and in a short time too. Did I tell
you that he’s from Australia? His parents moved here when Zeus was
seven years old. They were born in Greece but spent time in Sydney
before moving to Schenectady. I love how he still has that sexy
Australian accent when he speaks English, kind of like the
Wolverine’s.

Zeus began to howl like a wolf then he
furiously began to rub himself off. I think he was pretending that
his prickers was a dragon spewing hot, tasty cum all over the
camera. It was just a mild case of pre-cum but I knew more was on
its way. This prompted me to pretend to lick it up, all the while
caressing the wetness of my love tunnel, which was about to
blow.

Needless to say, but our
congruent orgasms came quickly, his because he had said I looked
sexier to him for some reason, perhaps because I had had relations
with Chad Mavis by then. He didn’t know that, of course, but it
made sense. Madonna was helping me to be a better lover, I was
certain of it. Mine because he was so complimentary and specific
about what he planned do to me once we were together again. I love
being commanded. Plus - I think my having a big secret got me hot
and bothered. I imagined him punishing me if he found out, slapping
my ass like a naughty little girl. Although no one has ever spanked
me, the threat had often been there from Dad when I was growing up.
He worked long hours back then and did not want to hear crap from
any of us kids when he got home, even from his little girl. He was
a lot scarier then, come to think of it, but yelling was more his
method of discipline. Mom’s was
wait until
your father comes home!
Why did this
spanking idea turn me on so much? I’m not sure, unless I felt
guilty about the six lovers thingy. All of this stuff was spinning
around in my head causing an exponential swirling inside my hooey
and suddenly I came hard, as if the cum was the elixir of the gods
summoning itself from my hoo-ha to absolve my sins. That was one
memorable cyber call.

This time there was no visual. Zeus couldn’t
see that I was dressed for my beach date with Zeke Feathertoe, in a
gray cotton jersey sundress with my honeymoon bikini on underneath.
It is an Ed Hardy design, red spandex with heart tatts sprinkled on
the bra cups. I love simulated tatts on my titty-ta-tas.

“
What are you up to?” Zeus
asked, as though he could see through the phone and through me like
a human lie detector machine.

Naturally, I said, “I’m up to no good.”

“
Do you solemnly swear
it?” Zeus asked, referencing
Harry Potter
and the Prisoner of Azkaban
for some
reason. That prompted a very expensive giggle fest. I’m sure
phoning from Japan is as expensive as the time Mrs. Zepkos called
Mom collect from Melbourne, Australia when she was visiting there
last summer. After she received the two hundred dollar phone bill,
Mom told her to never call her from Australia again.

Once I calmed from hysterics, I said, “I’m
also up to my ears in wedding planning.” I told him the G-rated
version of my Madonna inspired recording-studio visit. And how I’ve
lost five pounds from all the exercise I’ve been doing.

“
You should go and have
another wedding gown fitting just in case your weight loss turns
out to be significant. I don’t want you to whittle away to Madonna
size, Madannika.” He hadn’t called me Madannika since last summer,
which reminded us both of that silly sexy-sexy we’d had after the
concert involving masks and sugar scrub oil, so we both laughed
until we couldn’t breathe. Finally we said our good-byes
intertwined with
I love yous.

I really love him, despite
what you may think. I mean, I don’t know what you think. If you are
here reading this, I hope it is because you’re on my side, but
still. I
am
trying to be a better fucker for Zeus. I don’t want to be
like Chad Mavis’ wife, who no longer worships the cock she made for
better and for worse vows with. I want to be as worldly as Madonna
before I enter my union, and just as experienced when all is said
and done - and that is why I kept my date to fuck Zeke.

As I mentioned, I was forty-five minutes
late. “I thought you chickened out,” Zeke said when he saw me. He
was standing by the door holding a gold key dangling from a red
lanyard, which I assumed meant he had been waiting for me, given
up, and was about to lock the door. There was no one else
there.

I stared at him for a second, took in his
sad smile, his leathery skin and his super lean muscley arms
hanging from a ripped sleeveless black and white striped shirt that
reminded me of a jailbird or the Wicked Witch of the East’s
stockings (both really, more so the witch due to the gym’s
Munchkinland vibe - would he munch on my pussy-kin?) I suppressed
my robotic dance and the laugh that came with it. I really needed
to get serious.

I said, “Why would I do
that? I’m grateful that you’re taking time out of your busy
schedule to spend time with me. To get me in shape for my wedding.
To shape me up, in general.” He seemed to look even more forlorn
when I said that, so I added, “And to pump me with your sufficient
and all-powerful Indian lore. I want to catch
your
dreams.”

“
Yeah?” he
asked.

“
Mmm-hmm,” I uttered as I
nodded yes. I stood closer and let him sniff my perfume.

Zeke hesitated at first
then he placed his hands on my triceps. “Nice,” he said feeling how
firm they had gotten in just a week. “Are you going to use your
dreamcatcher to catch
my
dreams, bride-girl?”

“
I guess,” I said. I
didn’t want to act too forward, since it seemed sluttish. I waited
for his instructions.

“
You guess?” He looked
into my eyes and I nodded yes again.

I said, “Maybe we
are
having the same
dream. One that involves a colorful journey of the orifice
kind.”

“
I was thinking,” he said,
“that I want you to use your mouth as the vessel.”

Then Zeke began to kiss me. It was kind of
exciting to feel the way I did. But weird. I had real emotions of
getting what I wanted but at the same time, that actress vibe hit
me hard. Real, but not real, you know? It was as though I only
wanted to please Madonna, my director, and I wanted that very much
– that imagined praise.

How
do
actors kiss other partners on
screen if they are married or seeing someone? It seems like a weird
thing to do and get paid for it. Like whores. Was I being a whore?
While my mouth locked onto Zeke’s, I wondered how I would feel if
Zeus kissed someone else. Are there still geishas in Japan, I
thought, or did they die out with the H-bomb?

I tried to put that out of my mind. Zeus
wouldn’t need to find other lovers, because men only do that when
their women don’t put out in a satisfactory manner. This was
completely different. The next time my man and I do the nasty, I
thought, I would be primed for a life of hard pounding, but only if
I complete my mission. I tried to enjoy the present for that
reason.

This kiss though - Zeke seemed to be sucking
the life’s blood out of me. I find it so fascinating how something
as simple as a kiss can be so extremely...well different. I don’t
know how else to say it. When Zeus kisses me, I smell spearmint
mostly, because he always chews gum. But sometimes his breath
smells like roasted red peppers or baklava, you know, yummy things.
Zeke’s breath smelled like a hot cinnamon and tobacco combo. I
didn’t realize he smoked, unless the smell was from chewing
tobacco, which seems a little bit more gross as it pertains to the
possibility of unhealthy gums lurking about those white teeth of
his. Luckily, I didn’t have to delve inside to find out. His kisses
were dry but powerful, kind of like a soap opera kiss where the
actors don’t venture into French territory. It was a bit PG, which
reminded me of my cougar status. Here I was trying to be more
worldly with a guy who, I suspected, had less experience than me.
Strange.

He led me over to the leg press in a kind of
waltz. I could hear the jangle of the jingle bells he always wore
around his ankle attached to a brown leather strap. I slipped down
into the reclined seat of the machine. I started thinking he had
wanted me to do a set of fifteen reps, as I had done when he was
training me, so I placed my feet on the rubber pad. This machine
reminds me of the gyno’s office because of the way your legs are up
and spread apart, except you only spread them a shoulder’s width
apart to exercise.

Again, I waited for him to make the next
move. Still standing up, Zeke straddled me. Then he yanked off his
cropped warm-ups, the kind with the snaps on the sides, and they
gave way. I mean, it was like something I saw at the Chippendales
show in Atlantic City during Gina’s bachlorette party. I guess his
original plan might have had involved skinnydipping – we were
supposed to have gone to a beach, after all, and he wasn’t wearing
any swim trunks. His naked cock was throbbing, all dark and
engorged. I gasped a little. I’d never seen anything like it.