princess and a pawn

The first night we met we shared a bottle of Jameson.

Five of us on the porch of

my mansion.



The mansion that I reluctantly lived in

during the greatest summer

of my life.



I had been out fishing all day,

was tired from the sun;

wanted to enjoy the night and sleep off the Budweiser

that had made my throat dry.



I was watching the ceiling fan spin in my bedroom,

trying to read 'Jailbird' by Vonnegut,

when she stumbled into my bedroom.



She was wearing a red haltertop with a short skirt.

Her legs were long, luscious, and tan.

She had an innocent aura about her.



Her hair shined despite the dark room and she giggled at me.

Pleading me to join her on the porch.



etcetera and so on.



I told her to throw me my shorts

but she jumped on the bed

stradling me and asking me why?

I could taste the liquor on her breath as we started to kiss

and I forced her head down below my waste.

It didnt take long at all...



'Mmm..." She moaned as she rolled off the bed onto the floor.

Finding my shorts, she tossed them to me, and said

"lets go out and smell the ocean"



I grabbed her ass, put my arm around her shoulder,

and confessed that I loved her.



"What's your name?" I asked.



We walked out onto the porch and my two friends were fighting over her friend.

The friend was wasted wicked

washing down a bag of chips with the bottle of Jameson.



The night was calm and the sky was clear.

You could see the stars illuminating off of the ocean and there was a breeze

that seemed to whisper down your spine

and cause the hairs on your neck to stand.



The Jameson tasted warm and went down with ease as we

passed it around the table. We were silent for a few minutes,

taking it all in.



I started a conversation about constellations;

pointing out the brightest stars of Ursa Major,

as I chugged on the bottle.



For the first time I looked into her eyes,

Hazel eyes often appear to shift in color

from a light brown to a medium golden-green.



Tonight they were the lightest shade of blue and I was lost in them.

She smiled at me and words

were not necessary for communication.



We brought the bottle with us into the bedroom and made love all night,

and then slept until atleast two in the afternoon.

We ate breakfast by the bay,

at an old Italian place I used to go to with my grandmother before she passed away.



She came from old money.

Her great aunt married into it before the depression.

Her family was a mess,

she spent most of her life hopping from home to home,

and she was depressed.



She met with psychiatrists who prescribed her pills,

but, she partied on yachts with socialites, and

would do anything to please men.



Which explains why she was so easy when we first met,

I guess I should have seen it coming, but,

it was like she appeared from a dream and for once

I was that cool, smooth, dude I always wanted to be.



She was living in the city and I was

content by the ocean.



She visited from time to time and would fulfill my fantasies.

We would sit out in the hot sun all day and then

fuck in the outdoor shower.



The cold water would drip down her back as I would

rail her from behind.

She would moan and beg and make me feel like a man.

Then she would dissapear for weeks at a time.



She would not answer my calls, but show up

unannounced.

She would ignore my parties, my dinners with my parents, but

she would show up at my work drunk and

flirt with the valet drivers.



She went on a cruise in France and my lease was over.

I moved to California and didn't say goodbye.

She was found in a bathtub with slit wrists.



She left a note that didn't mention my name.