Cherie – Chapter 22 – Shark Week – Part III – Shoes & Scarves

Alright, don’t panic. I didn’t get Cherie pregnant last night during Shark Week. Although she did say a few things last night that shook me up.

  1. It only takes one sperm…
  2. I always wanted a girl…
  3. My husb…

She assured me she was just kidding about the first two. She’s made it very clear to me that she doesn’t want anymore children. But those sort of references always rattle me to my core. But in regard to the third one, she was telling me a story last night, and that’s how she almost slipped to refer to me. I called her out on it, and made it funny. She laughed and was a little embarrassed. I thought that it was cute. Does she want me to someday be her husband? I do love her. Time will tell. Let’s see how this romantic journey plays out.

We head out into the snowy day. It’s not that bad. Pretty flurries, and some snow on the ground. But we’re on a mission. Breakfast was amazing. We didn’t get the special, but it was worth it to spend some extra time in bed together.

You know, when I’m with Cherie, she becomes more beautiful to me every hour I’m with her. I don’t get to see her all of the time. Michelle I saw every day. Annabelle, was a forced companionship to make it work. But with Cherie, I’m denied her presence most of the time. Our schedules and the distance keep us apart. But it’s working! When I’m with her, I’m at peace. Not a euphoric happy that I felt with the last two. Just a satisfied feeling that I’ve never felt before. I haven’t had to change at all with her in my life. I’ve gone good and bad in the last two relationships, but I do what I want in this relationship and most of all…I get to be me.

The real me.

To a point. I smoke, and drink and live my life down here in the city. Working two jobs, moving a business, writing a blog that you’ll one day binge on Netflix. That’s the difference here. I don’t have to be patient and fix the girl I’m loving. I don’t have to stop being me, and transform into an idea. I don’t have to be frustrated, angry or disappointed. I thought that was part of being in a relationship. My parents were that.

All of my relationships have been fucked up. There’s always something missing.

A disconnect. I loved them, but it was always hard. I just thought it was always supposed to be that way. I guess that’s why Michelle went back to Delaware Dave. She did it to save herself. Work on your health. You can’t do that with Phickle. He’s all about joy and vice. It’s fun, but it won’t sustain a relationship. Annabelle was in a totally different child-like, confused part of her life. I don’t even know why I thought it could be anything. It’s just ashes blown off the edge of an old table.

I don’t think we’ll always be at a distance. But I’m not going to do anything to change it now. It’s been three months and I have zero stress or confusion about what this is. Sometimes I’m amazed that this ripe, young, fit beauty really loves me. I know she does. I love her but there’s always an imbalance in every relationship. it’s not a bad thing. It just is. Somebody loves somebody more than the other one does.

Think about it. That’s you. You’ve been there, or you’re there right now.

I love Cherie. She’s young, beautiful, smart, super sexy, and a chill girl with an even temperament, and a great sense of humor. What more could any man want? Nothing. She’s great, and I’m blessed to have her in my life. Sometimes I think of myself and God. I feel like I’ve spent all of my luck and good fortune tickets. I punched every hole in my joy ticket.

Then I think of karma. What if I did something to deserve one more twenty-six year old baby, but she’s the right one? Not a project, but a lovely young woman who has suffered. Worked ten years at MacDonald’s. Has been a mother for the last six years. Medical Assistant at Children’s Hospital. Works at a pediatrician’s office. Tons of hours. getting her degree in neuroscience. Next stop, medical school. End game: Doctor.

But the karma. I haven’t done anything extraordinary since, Michelle. Why have I been granted this maiden?

To love again.

Why do I get to go again?

Then it came to me. February, 2015.

Lorelei came to me. The lead in the school play. The A-B student. The quiet, calm force torn asunder by her mother’s madness.

“Daddy, please. Can I please come live with you? I can’t take it anymore. I have to get out. I’ll sleep on the floor to get away from her.”

There it is. I have entered into and exited bloody from many relationships in my short life, but I got a “Get out of Jail Free” card from God. I rescued my daughter from the clutches of the gargoyle and God gave me another one.


Cherie loves me more than I love her and I know it. But maybe she doesn’t love me more and only loves me differently than the way I love her.


We enter Kids Foot Locker and look for some sneakers for kids. Lorelei is twenty and it’s been a long time since I thought about buying shoes for her. But Cherie’s family is young.

My family is slowly sliding down destiny’s rainbow.

There are walls of footwear in these places. I would never go to a store like this. Payless is how I roll in regard to fine footware here in Philly. I am blown away by these prices. There were $100 little baby sneakers in there! Walls of them!

Cherie was very thorough in her search. She finally decided on two terrifically expensive pairs of shoes for a couple of kids that will grow out of them in half a year.

We step out of the store and the snowfall seems to be getting worse. I tell her I know of a retail street cart at the corner of 12th and Chestnut that has the scarves I need. There’s Pollyanna party at my new company. If you ever have to buy a gift for someone in the fall or winter in Philly, buy a street scarf.

Super soft. Silky. That’s how I would describeit… cashmere. But I’m describing these Burberry novachek knock offs that look and feel great for about six bucks.

We trudge over there. The snow is getting colder and meaner. The flakes now feel like cold needles on our tender faces.

Philadelphia is a bitter and grey place today.

We arrive at where the cart is supposed to be but it’s not.

Cherie is not thrilled.

She wanted to buy a hat and some gloves. I tell her I have an idea. I cut South through Midtown Village. We enter at the earliest point to get into the subway.

At least I have baby out of the cold!

Suburban Station in the winter is a den of homeless people. It’s especially frosty out tonight so, we have a packed house full of walkers right now.

I find this subway retails store that carries everything. I get the scarves I need, and Cherie lands her gloves and hat. When we leave the store, I want to keep Cherie underground for as long a possible, because it’s now an ice storm out there.

We’re walking down this long hallway, and I swear to God, the urine stench was so bad, I actually started getting angry. Cherie wanted to turn back, but I told her she’d freeze her sweet black ass off if we were to back track. (Just take out the word ‘black’ please…)

As we’re walking down the hallway of the walking dead, I turn to the right and there is a woman with no pants on. This poor thing is changing her clothes in an alcove under 1601 Market. Cherie, chides me for staring, but I have to explain it to her. If you saw nudity in Playboy, you’d be expecting it. It’s good, but there are higher levels. If you were walking through a train station and you saw a real naked lady, it would feel different, right? It’s a bit of a shocker. As bad as she is, you still saw it and got a story out of it.

I knew this would happen. I created phicklephilly and now we are one. My art is imitating my life and my life is now my art.

We walk back through center city to the house. Her giant back pack is there. The entire walk home was a grueling trudge with snow biting our faces the whole way. We chill for a bit and dry out at the house. Lorelei texts me that she is stopping home between the double she’s working at the restaurant.

“That was nine minutes ago. We should go.” There has been very little exposure for my current, I wanted it do the opposite in this relationship. We are literally in the vestibule of my building, and Cherie says, “How do you open this door?”

I look through the glass and on the other side of the door is Lorelei. Cherie is trying to operate our impossibly tricky locking system. “You’re about to meet my daughter.”

Lorelei is surprised to see me. Probably even more surprised that I’m standing with a pretty black girl. I fumble over my words. “Hi honey. I got your text about stopping home between your double shift. This is Cherie. I’m going to walk her to the train. We just had to pick up some stuff. She doesn’t think anything. My daughter knows I’m friends with so many people in the city and they’re all different races. It’s not like she caught us in the saddle.

We head back out into the snow. It’s really going. I think about how I haven’t told anyone about Cherie. It’s not because of the age difference or the race. That’s nonsense. But for the first time in the last decade, I’ve not posted and shown off what I’m doing. I don’t know why I did that. I guess I’ll figure it out. There are no pictures of Cherie and me. There are no posts about us going out. This love belongs to us. It’s private. Who gives a shit about the rest of the world. Let them look into their own lives. Show all of their greatest hits on all of their trips. Stuff and vacations tell me they are empty. Because when you are calm and happy, you don’t want anything. The best things in life are free.

It’s really true. Everybody wants that. But love is elusive. But what is even more elusive  is people’s ability to go out in the world and open their hearts. Love and sex is all around you. Just relax, smile and go forth and be yourself. They’ll find you.

The most beautiful butterflies I have ever caught have been wonderful. But I never had to pick up my net to catch them. They flew right into the flame.

I’m not worried about Lorelei. She doesn’t give a shit about what I do anyway. As long as she can work, collect her allowance, eat her vegan food, and see her boyfriend, she’s cool.

We cross the street, avoiding the traffic on the street. “Where are we going now?” Cherie says. “I’m calling an UBER. We’re not walking back to Suburban Station in this mess.” “I’ve never taken an UBER.” “You’ll love it.”

We arrive at 16th and JFK and hop out. I take her and lead her down the stairs back into the subway. I take her to the platform and wait with her. We’re standing there and the train roars into the station.

I’m back where I began friday night. But there has been so much joy. I’m standing there satisfied. It’s obvious I ‘ve been satisfied sexually. But there’s a certain feeling you get when you’re with someone you love. You don’t want anything else. You’re good. All set. I’ll miss her, but she has to go. She has to get back to her son, work, and school.

I stand on the platform until she leaves. I can see her at the window. The conductor shouts. The train hisses to life and begins to pull from the station. Our eyes meet. She smiles, waves and blows me a kiss.

I do the same. Until next we meet.


Was this helpful? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this subject!


Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly           Facebook: phicklephilly.


Cherie – Chapter 21 – Shark Week – Part II – Blood in the Water

“It’s okay, I can always tell how you feel by your eyes.”

I’m standing in Suburban Station, and my lady steps from the train. We embrace. I’m happy to see her. It’s cold out, so we stay underground as long as possible. I ask her if she’s hungry. She had mentioned in a text that she liked salmon, and if baby wants salmon, then salmon it is.

But she says she’s fine. She says she’d just like to lie down and rest after her busy week.

We make the painfully cold walk back to my house. I feel like I should have held her longer. Kissed her when I saw her. But I did nothing. Just a hug like and old friend. I’ll think about this.

“I’ve thought about this and I’ve also spoken to Cherie about it. I apologized to her for not being a little more intimate when I greeted her at Suburban Station.

She said, “It’s okay, I can always tell how you feel by your eyes.”

Ok. Let’s hold it right there. That’s a landmark statement. She’s already learned to read me. That’s really perceptive. I like that she sees me on that level.

We make it back to the bat cave. We go through the triple lock doors, the vestibule and into the hallway. There is a curving stairway up to the apartment. I penetrate the lock and we’re in. Lorelei’s stuff is usually everywhere a little bit. But every time I have brought Cherie, she never notices anything about the apartment. She never says anything about the place at all. Nothing. No decor, or how old it is or anything. I bring her in. The apartment is always dark. I hit the flashlight on my phone. and I tell her to follow me.

Watch your step. You’re in Rittenhouse. The building is one hundred and thirty years old. She never says anything. I take her hand and tell her to follow me. I flick on the bathroom light as I approach my bedroom.

I hit the switch and my bedroom and it is bathed in warm yellow light. I walk to the windows. I draw the blue drapes. I have these new drapes in my bedroom. It’s weird. It’s like Sinatra is coming to play at Caesars, so we need to redecorate the place because the chairman of the board is coming home.

Once I started dating sweet Cherie, I went to town. New sheets. (Dude. You have to) Curtains. (I know they are useless but they look cool) cleaned the whole cave, top to bottom, candy, candles, blankets so baby is happy and doesn’t get cold.

Cherie smiles, and gives me that little glance that tells me so much.

I take her coat and she drops her bag. She sits on the bed. “It’s so nice to be here.” She lays back. I begin removing her boots. Then her jeans. Her beautiful brown legs are slowly revealed to me.

We get under the covers and slowly during kisses and “I love yous” the rest of our garments are removed.

Cherie had made it clear to me days ago that there would be no swimming in the water during shark week. I told her I’m okay with all of those things, but she was adamant. I don’t have a problem with that. I respect her wishes and her body. I’m just happy to be holding her and kissing her full ripe lips at this moment.

But I know how Cherie feels about me, and how much she loves sex. Being the most sexually charged woman I’ve ever met, I think it’s going to be harder for her to hold up her end of the deal than me. But I will do whatever she wants. I actually was looking forward to taking it easy with her this weekend.

Instead of the usual, “It feels like I’m training for the sex olympics every other weekend” But I did make a bet with my buddy Church the other day. He said intercourse would happen during shark week. I told him I wasn’t going to push the issue, but I would offer an option.

So Cherie and I are in bed, and wonderful things are happening. I can tell that once we begin any physical contact with each other, sparks begin to fly. I tell her I have a dark brown towel. I can put it under her on the bed. We can turn the lights down, or off if she likes. I will not look down at any time. When the act is complete, I will cover up, and go to the bathroom to clean up. She in turn can pick up the towel and hold it against herself and go to the bathroom right after me.

She agrees. The sex as always, is glorious. We both keep to the agreement. It works out really well. My lady’s dignity has been retained. Nobody has to think a murder was committed in the bathroom.

During our time that evening, she does follow through with what she said she would do. There were times she was very active with me and I just laid back and enjoyed it. You never want your woman to give you the best oral you’ve ever had, because that would mean she has had a LOT of practice. But Cherie does it not like it’s a job that has to be done to please her man. She performs it like she truly loves doing it.

It is exquisite.

We’re all normally pretty good at things we like to do, and Cherie must really like doing that to me.

Instead of the crazy marathon sex every two or three hours this time, we actually have some fun and then get some sleep. I’m very pleased by this evening.

It’s just nice to sleep next to my beloved.

The next morning, Cherie gets the towel from the bathroom, and folds it a different way so we can go again. We do and it’s fire. I love morning sex. Just good raw energy. Snow is falling outside as the temperature rises in my bedroom.

After a bit we decide to get up because there are things to do. First order of business is to take this girl out to breakfast. I’m always ravenous for breakfast after a night with my Nubian queen.

While Cherie is in the shower, I get dressed and make the bed. For two years, my bed has been nothing but a place of sleep for me. Now, it’s once again a gateway to the love and magic we make.


Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly


Cherie – Chapter 20 – Shark Week – Part I

“I’m a man alone on the platform of life. Waiting for his girlfriend. The latest model. My newest love. The next one.”

I finished at the salon on Friday night. I text Cherie to see where she was in the travel process. She’s on winter break so there’s no classes for the next week or so, but work and life have been the usual grind. The holidays, raising her son, school, and two grueling jobs are taking a toll upon her health. She sometimes leaves one job and goes to the other one just to keep the machine rolling. She sometimes works twenty-eight hours straight without sleep between Children’s Hospital and the pediatrician’s office.

Cherie texts me back and tells me that she missed the first train, but is currently on the next one from Norristown. It should roll into Suburban Stanton around 8:40pm. I look at my watch and see that it is only 8:20pm. It’s been a long day and an even longer week for me. Being back to working forty hours at the new day job, and running the salon four days a week have clocked me in at sixty hours a week again. I like having a morning purpose to get out of bed again, but the adjustment has been a bit of a challenge.

I lock up the salon and head to suburban station. The winter night kisses my face. She’s always been a Philly bitch.

Suburban Station this time of year is an absolute shit show. There are so many homeless people down there to escape exposure you can’t get a seat. The stench of urine makes me angry.

I see where her train is coming in and I head to that platform. I haven’t seen her since our fun early lunch at Devil’s Alley. That’s always sweet and civil. We love seeing each other and spending time together, but it’s really just a band-aid, to bridge the gap until we will once again share a bed.

I look at the schedule. On Time. Baby is coming…. (Sorry, “Arriving”) I know she’ll be all covered up. Heavy coat, boots, hat, and a scarf. But I know what’s beneath all of those layers. The heart of a lovely, woman.

I plan on asking her if she’s eaten, because if anyone deserves a super din, it’s this girl. She doesn’t eat enough or get enough rest.

If baby’s hungry, I’ll feed her.

I’m a man alone on the platform of life. Waiting for his girlfriend. The latest model. My newest love. The next one.

All of this work I’m doing now is tough. I adapt like a cockroach, and love to work so I know I’ll be fine, but the first two weeks through the holiday were a little cloudy. But I’ve adjusted and I’ll make it happen on both fronts. I’m not the tallest or the strongest man you’ll ever meet. I’m average looking in every way, but I have a kind face and an effervescent personality. Sometimes that, and real enthusiasm is enough. Making tons of money and surrounding yourself with a nice house, cars and stuff is a huge fat lie.

I once had a boss I really liked and one day I asked him, why everybody was so into food and stuff. He said it’s probably because we all can’t have beautiful sex all of the time. I was very close with him and he and I worked well together. He lived in NYC and I would walk him to the train at 30th street every night for months. He was a fish out of water in Philly, but a wonderful man and mentor. We all need mentors.

My father used to say.

But he was right. It was a simple question and he gave me his simple answer. I appreciated his candid answer. I miss him. But think about it… when you meet that special someone and ignition is imminent, it’s is a glorious feeling. You meet that person. There is a connection. There’s chemistry for whatever reason. It’s electric. You fall in love, have all of the dating, sex and love you can make, and then the inevitable happens. You get married.

You fall in love, and then you lock down a mate for whatever reason. It could be a good decision or the worst one of your life, but you make it. If it works, you live in domestic life for the rest of your days. Some of them work, some don’t. Some of us make good decisions and others make bad decisions. I make bad decisions all of the time. But I’m an artist stuck in the corporate world. I’m not an artist that can’t fit in with corporate America. I’m an artist that can swim comfortably through it. Usually the other fat fish that have dedicated themselves to working in business don’t like this strange fish. They’ll eventually get him.

It’s okay, because I know my spirit will always find a way to swim in someones warm pond. If it gets too hot, I can alway hop to another pretty body of water.

I’ll always work, and I’ll always love. I won’t stuff my life with tradition, stuff and lies ever again. I’ve been married, been a homeowner, had hot cars and tons of stuff.

None of it means anything. At the end of the day, you have to come home to yourself. You. Alone in your apartment. You. Alone in your marriage. Maybe you, happy in either one.

But I’ve found that humans are social creatures. We LOVE to be with each other. most people can’t sit in a room by themselves for very long without hating themselves. You need to be truly alone to understand yourself and who you are. You can’t do that around other people. You need to break it all down and get inside your own soul. It’s really hard to do, but some of us, a rare few actually like it.

If you get married, you fall in love, choose the best you can and go forward. House, mortgage, careers, kids, stuff… all of it. Everybody does it. I did it.

It was never a fit for me.

Did you ever notice that there are no great white sharks in captivity? There are grey nurse sharks, sand tigers, and whatever stuff they can steal from the sea to entertain you. An afternoon at the aquarium. But the Great White is at the top of the heap when it comes to marine predators. Little is really known about them. But having the greatest shark ever the star of Peter Benchley’s JAWS would surely be an attraction like no other that would bring Homo Sapiens in to your little circus in droves.

You’ve done it. You’ve kidnapped them from the sea, and what happened?

They all died. Every one of them.


The Great White isn’t going to live in a fish tank and have you gawk at him. He’d rather die that give you the satisfaction of owning him. Imprisoning him. He needs to swim and be free.

Would I like to be in a marriage and be satisfied and happy? I don’t know. We all want to have that connection with that one person that completes us.

We do.

I may be the Great White, but even they find a lovely lady shark and go off and make little sharks.

But I’ve made bad choices and have tried to make that work, but it hasn’t. I know it works for some, but they have made such better choices than myself.

I am so happy when I see couples together making it work and are really are connected. It’s amazing to see. I know so few. But the ones that get it right are terrific people. I see it in my own family. All of my sisters have made good choices for their life goals and it’s worked.

But not me. I’ve tried over and over to fit into that and it just hasn’t worked. Like I said, I made bad choices. But what does that mean? I think I’m not meant to be locked into an American marriage model. I need to swim free. I need to be alone. The shark needs to swim.

Appreciate who he is and let him be.

The only upside of being in different relationships throughout your life instead of getting married and locking it down is this: You get to fall in love a bunch of times.

I know everybody falls in love. That shit is magic. I can’t think of anything on the Earth that feels that good. I’ve always known that beyond everything, love is the most powerful force in the universe. When you think about all of the crazy shit people have done in the name of love its mind-boggling!

I know marriage is a great way for people to really bond with your desired match. It yields family, children, grandchildren, joy, pain, life existence. It really is the foundation of our culture.

But what if you could have that feeling again that you had in the beginning, over and over again?

We all long for that initial passion. I know if you’re with the same person all of the time there becomes a familiar. There’s no way to sustain that drug of love.

The only way you could do that and get that feeling would to be alone most of the time.

Most of the populace are unable to do that.


So, you meet someone, you fall in love and it doesn’t work out.

Again and again.

You’re sad. Most people have had their heart broken once. Some of us have had it shattered, shredded, tossed on the fire, and kicked to the curb. Because we loved too much.

We’re sensitive people who’ve spent their love dollars on the wrong people for the wrong reasons. Sometimes we end up broke.

But only financially.

We’re still the same people. Growing. Evolving into the future of ourselves.

But…We love again.

Again and again.

See how it works? You either choose once, and hope and works, and most times it does. If it doesn’t work you have to be brave enough to walk away. The consequences can be catastrophic but if you are truly not happy you have to go.

So, here I am. Carcharodon carcharias. Domesticity and cohabitation hasn’t ever worked for me. What should I do?

I should continue to evolve and grow as a person. I should be the best person I can be to the people around me. The shark needs to swim and be free. But maybe I can meet a perfect, low-key, smart, solid lady shark and make it work.

I think of her face. Her lovely eyes. Her smile. Her laugh, when she really loses it. My god, her thighs.

(Is that a Haiku?)


The voice over the intercom says that her train is coming in. I’m about to accept the honor of Cherie’s presence for the next 20 hours.

The platform is cold. I smell something. I glance down the track. A flash of light off  the wall. There’s a sudden breeze in on the platform. The air is fresh and clean. The train is pushing life into this sad terminal.

She is about to arrive.

My girlfriend. I once again have a girlfriend.

Oh, if you’re still wondering why this chapter was called, “Shark Week,” It’s because I’m comparing myself to a Great White shark. An elegant animal that’s meant to be free to swim, and can’t be contained into your idea of love.

But I’m trying, and I’ll be fine. I really appreciate you all getting it this week!

No. that’s not what this chapter is about. You missed the whole point. Thank you for reading this far…

Cherie is on her period.

I just got the text. She’s coming to the bat cave for the next twenty hours. There’s going to be a lot of sex and negotiation, but there’s also going to be a lot of blood…


Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly



10 Things Everyone Should Know About Interracial Dating

So, I’ve purposely not written too much on this because it was just a part of my life (a very important part), but a part I like to very selectively share about. No one wants relationship vomit in their inbox…but today’s the day for a little taste. So if you didn’t know, I got a […]

via 10 Things Everyone Should Know About Interracial Dating (Pt. 1) — emily beth thomas


Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pmEST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Cherie – Chapter 19 – Back In Black

“I told her I don’t want to bother Trish, but maybe she needs to hear what being truly alive sounds like.”

White girls they’re pretty funny. Sometimes they drive me mad.
Black girls just wanna get fucked all night.
I just don’t have that much jam.

Some Girls – Mick Jagger & Keith Richards – 1978


I saw Cherie for a quick early morning breakfast last week. But we haven’t been together intimately for two weeks. Her schedule’s been crazy between her two jobs, studying for finals, and working on her thesis. She was working on it that day and still had a few pages to finish writing. When completed it had to be in by midnight that day. Then she had to wait for her sister to come over and babysit her son.


She arrived in Rittenhouse around 8pm. The city was incredibly busy that Saturday night. It was difficult for her to find parking, but she finally did. It was a bitter cold night in December, but I had the bat cave nice and warm with all of the necessary amenities when she got there.

It was so great to see her. She’d been on my mind all week. I was happy that our day had finally arrived. It didn’t take long for us to get down to the business at hand. This had only been the third time we’d been intimate in our new relationship. We have survived two months so far. Being with Cherie was glorious as usual. As I have said before she’s a chill, smart girl with an enormous sexual appetite. It’s as if I’ve finally found the perfect match. Her stamina is matched only by her orgasmic prowess. I’ve never been with a woman who can have over twenty in one night. We do have mad sex for hours, and during those encounters she just keeps on coming again and again. I’ve never seen anything like it. She asked me if I thought my neighbor Trish could hear the bed rocking and squeaking as well as her moaning. I told her I don’t want to bother Trish, but maybe she needs to hear what being truly alive sounds like.

Some of the most wonderful moments of the evening were not so much the intense sex, but the gentle quiet moments when we would simply hold each other, and she would tell me that she loves me. I of course reciprocated with words and deeds.

She fell asleep the first time just after midnight, I heard her talk in her sleep. She did that the last time she was here in my bed. She said, “I love when you do that.” She then sighed. Is it possible when Cherie is not having real sex with me she is dreaming about having sex with me? Why can’t I have dreams like that?

After one of our exhausting sessions that happened around 3am, we had an interesting conversation. She had told me on our first date that she was bisexual, but leaned more towards men than women. She said when she was with her son’s father, they had a bit of an open relationship. She asked me how many sexual partners I’ve had…at the same time. Normally women ask a bunch of questions when you first sleep together. I’ve been on the Earth for over a half a century, and have closed a lot of business in that time, in three different time zones. But no one has ever asked me how many at once. I really had to think way back to my days in Wildwood, NJ and Los Angeles, CA. I told her I knew for sure that I had at least once did a full on threesome with two women. I asked her what her number was, and she said, she had done one as well. But it was with a good-looking guy, a white girl, and a hispanic girl. I did the math and with Cherie there, that’s a foursome. I don’t play much poker but I know four of a kind beats a three of a kind. Hell, four of a kind even beats a full house, and four people getting it on is a full house unto itself!

I asked if the guy had sex with every one of them, and she said that he did. I told her I wanted to shake his hand. Cherie gave me the dynamics of how that little orgy worked and I could tell by the description it was largely due to her participation. I found it interesting that I had been beaten by a girl half my age. She said she likes doing to girls what I like to do as much as I like to do it. I’m a giver and so is she. We give a lot to each other in the bedroom.

Cherie made it clear that she was solely interested in me. I asked her if she would ever have the urge to hook up with a woman again. She simply said, “No. That would be cheating.” But now I was intrigued by this she-cat that’s an animal in the bedroom, but not reckless with her sexuality out in the world. It is all planned and calculated by Cherie.

I asked her if she would ever do a multiple partner scenario again if all parties were willing and rules were in place. She said she would consider it.

This isn’t something I need to do. I’m happy just wearing and tearing with my lady. But I figured I’d ask a few more questions. I could tell Cherie wanted to discuss the subject further.

I told her just for argument sake I would throw out a fantasy scenario. I asked if she knew anybody that would be interested in participating in a three-way with she and I. Strictly fantasy question. (A bold-faced lie) Cherie said she knew a girl that she has been friends with for several years who is a little freaky. I asked her to describe this girl. She said that they have recently discussed how they would be okay fooling around with each other sexually. This girl is a little younger than Cherie, 25 or 26. She’s a mix of black and white. Her skin is caramel color. She has long brown hair and hazel eyes. Cherie says she’s never had sex with a black girl. But this would be close enough. Very pretty, and a little thicker than Cherie. My girl has an athletic body, from years of running track and basketball. Her friend is a bit curvy, with a round bottom and big breasts. I asked her if she was attracted to her, and she said that she would do her.

I like that they’ve already discussed being together. I ask her how, (in this fantasy!) how it would work? Would we just bring her here and let it roll? Cherie says, “Sure. I could bring her here, and we can have our way with her. I would do stuff to her to get her warmed up for you and then I would watch you fuck her.”

Apparently it’s not cheating if it’s your girlfriend’s idea that you should bang another chick right in front of her in the same bed.

I then came up with some of my own creative scenarios, and Cherie loved them all. This sort of talk two months into a relationship is extraordinary. I’ll have to see how this all plays out, but it’ll definitely play out right here on Phicklephilly.

I feel like I must have done something really good to be rewarded with this angel delivered to me by the gods.


She had to go feed the meter before 8am the next morning, so we had to get up early and do that. We’re both exhausted. She has to go home and study and keep writing and I have to open the salon at 11am. We pack up and head out into the chilly, grey light of Sunday morning. She pays for another hour and a half so as not to get a ticket from the overzealous PPA. I tell her she deserves at least breakfast for last night’s stellar performances.

Breakfast is at our usual spot, the Midtown Diner on 18th street. We’re both a little burned out from all of the calories we burned last night so we load up on coffee, protein and carbs. The service is fast, and the food is always on point. Obviously, there’s some sexual innuendo in our banter.

We talk about life and times passed. She tells me how many years ago she had an affair with a girl that she really loved. Her family rejected her and the relationship because it was looked upon as an abomination in the bible and she would go to hell. They actually didn’t speak for a while. I fucking kid you not.

Sad thing was, the girl ended up cheating on her and dumped her. So maybe the family thought little Cherie was just confused and got off the righteous path for a bit and welcomed her back into the fold. Such nonsense.

Cherie said she has given much to people in her life over the years and has gotten little back. People have taken advantage of her kindness in the past. But she’s not bitter about any of it. As always, she is calm and resolute. She has a tight group of friends, support from her family, works hard and stays away from social media.

Some time ago she dated someone for a short time, but it wasn’t what she wanted. Cherie said she just wanted someone to love.

Well it looks like she found someone.

And I definitely have the jam.


Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephill

Cherie – Chapter 18 – The Fountain of Youth – Part 2

“I like when she kisses me passionately, and then when the kiss is over, she plants one more tiny kiss on me. It’s like the tiny kiss is her signature to the passionate kiss.”

I lock up and we head out into the night. I ask her about what her parking situation is and she says she took the train. That’s awesome. Parking has been a bit of a nightmare for her as of late. The city has been crowded with visitors for the holidays and traffic has been snarled. She hopped out and Suburban Station and was all good. Tomorrow she has to be on the 10:30am back home. Perfect.

We walk down to my house and go in. It’s a chilly night, but nice and warm in the apartment. We relax on the bed and engage in a little chit-chat. We both know that after two weeks the inevitable is going to happen very soon, and the chatter will stop. I start telling some story between kisses and she says, “Save that for later. Now this.” She places my hand on the backside of her jeans, and smiles.

I like when she kisses me passionately, and then when the kiss is over, she plants one more tiny kiss on me. It’s like the tiny kiss is her signature to the passionate kiss. Like, that lovely experience was created my me, signed, Cherie. It’s elegant and sweet in the same moment.

Our love unfolds on the bed like a beautiful flower. Neighbor Trish was away so Cherie was free to make all the noise she wanted. I wanted to start by pleasing her first, knowing my lady had been in a dire state of wanton for the last week. After some time, she could no longer withstand the waves of pleasure that washed over her from her. She simply said, “Up here. I want you up here.” I entered the gates of heaven and off we went into a roaring fury of pleasure. That all lasted past midnight.

We both collapsed after that.

She says I’m so in tune with her body. She is amazed that I do everything without her having to say anything. I tell her it’s quite simple. I listen to the sounds she makes, and pay attention to how her body moves and responds to my actions. No words or direction is needed.

At 2am she gently brought me back to life. That went on to around 3am.

Then once again she was upon me at 6am as the rain fell outside. So every two to three hours we were at it. Deprivation can sometimes be a wonderful thing. Each session was very powerful. We both got to give and get all of the things we love. I think as we get to know each other mentally as well as physically, our lovemaking has become more intense. It can only get better as we explore each other sexually.

Sex is wonderful with Cherie. She is nothing like silly Annabelle, who’s only tool in life was a hammer. Everything she came in contact with, she treated like a nail. Cherie is a well oiled machine. Powerful, calm and languid. Like a big cat. She truly is the best woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to have in my life romantically.

After round three at 6am, we decided to get up and start our day. We showered, dressed and headed out with our umbrellas to the diner. As we walk side by side (girls on the inside) I turn to her and say, “This reminds me of our very first date! We walked around Rittenhouse sharing a umberella.” She smiles and twirls hers on her shoulder.

Normally after our last two epic encounters, I was physically burned out. But not this time. I think because I was getting these little two and three-hour naps in between the action, I feel great today.

My powers are increasing. I can feel it.

I destroy my breakfast at the diner. I have the appetite of ten men. My heart and soul are satisfied by this lovely young girl sitting across from me eating her omelette, and making eyes at me.

We finish up and I walk her back to Suburban Station. We have ten minutes to spare before her 10:35 train. I wait on the platform with her until the silver passenger train rolls into the station, hissing like some Pre-Cambrian monster come to take my lover from me.

“I love you, Cherie.”

“I love you, too.”

We kiss goodbye, and I say “Auf wiedersehen.” Because the literal German translation is “Until we see again.” I don’t like goodbyes. ‘See you later’ is so much better. She gets on the train and finds a seat. I wait on the platform. The beast once again hisses, and begins to roll forward. She blows me a kiss, and she’s gone.

Until next time…


Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Cherie – Chapter 17 – The Fountain of Youth

Once again it has been two weeks without my girl. Between my schedule and hers, it’s just been impossible. She’s had finals at Temple. Crushing late night hours at Children’s Hospital, her job at the pediatrician’s office, and raising her son… it’s been nuts. Add in that I’ve been working nine to five at the institute, and nights at the tanning salon, I’ve been a ghost in my own life.

Throw the holidays into the mix and it’s nearly impossible to schedule anything. I saw all of my family last weekend, and she had her holiday party the same day. It was a glorious day to see all of my sisters, cousins, nieces and nephews. Cherie said she also had a blast at her work party. Her whole family will be together, and her brother and his wife are flying in from Japan this weekend, so it’s going to be non stop frivolity.

It was Friday and I worked the whole day at the institute, then on to the salon until eight. Church made a surprise appearance. It was great to see him and have some company. It always makes the night go faster. (See : Church – Brand Ambassador) I had a very busy couple of weeks and was feeling a bit tired. I took the Saturday shift at the salon for Trish so she could visit her family for the weekend. (See: Trish – The She Wolf)

I had stopped in to see Trish on Wednesday before I was meeting my buddy Spinner at the Flyers game. I had totally forgotten that I told her I’d work Saturday for her. She almost started crying right there in the salon. She really wanted to spend time with her folks. I jumped on the phone and moved a few things around and let Cherie know we had from 8pm Friday to 10:30am Saturday. I felt bad that I had forgotten about what I promised Trish, and wasn’t about to back out on a promise or a friend in need. I assume I was half in the bag when she asked me, because I usually put everything in my calendar. Anyway, it all worked out and Trish still loves me.

So I’d close tonight and then have to go in open tomorrow. I looked forward to just going to my favorite bar and maybe having a drink or two if my buddy, Tusk was working. But ultimately I just wanted to go home, sit in my chair, drink and smoke cigarettes, then sleep in on Sunday.

I’m very happy with my relationship with Cherie. I enjoy our time together, but we don’t see each other all of the time. So it’s intense when we’re together, but there’s plenty of downtime in between. I like being with her and it’s always magic, but I like not having the constant obligation of having to spend a bunch of time with her because we’re simply too busy.  She’s been great about it and I appreciate that kind of patience in a woman. Like I’ve said since I started writing about us, she’s so sweet and chill, and just easy to love. We’ve been texting, and I can see that she’s getting the itch to spend some quality time with her man. I’m tired, but I’m down if we can make it happen. She’s been texting things like, “I’m so horny I can’t think straight.” So I’d better take care of her soon.

We coordinate our schedules and obligations, and settle on tonight when I close the salon. I tell her I have to open the next morning at 11am, but she’s fine with it. So when she arrives we will spend exactly fourteen and half hours together.

I’m glad we were able to make it happen.

“I don’t think I could have waited three weeks to see you. I was ready to beg.” she says. No need to beg. But that’s hot. I’m pretty lucky to be at this place in my life and I still have the charm to earn the love and devotion of a beautiful young lady.

She arrives just as I’m about to close the salon. I tell her to come up and meet Church. He’s eager to meet her. They have some things in common. Her father and brother are Navy guys, she drives a Saab, and is studying neuroscience. Church was a Navy corpsmen specializing in neuroscience, used to drive a Saab, and loves black women.

Cherie comes in, comes right to me first and gives me a smooch. I make the introduction and they start chatting. I’ve been talking to him about how great she is, and I’m glad they finally get to meet. I’m still waiting for one of our best clients to finish tanning, close out the register, and send the credit card batch for the night.

We finally get rid of the last one and I finish up. Church says goodbye because he knows it’s game time for me and baby.


Stay tuned for Cherie – The Fountain of Youth – Part 2, tomorrow!


Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly