Wildwood Daze – Summer of 1979 – Lola – Part 2

I chatted with my mom at lunch. Had some Ellio’s pizza. Ellio’s is the first pizza I ever tasted. I was a very picky eater since I was a child. I didn’t even try pizza until I was 12 or 13. But Ellio’s was a frozen pizza you could buy in the store. It came in a box with three frozen slabs (three rectangles each. Nine slices.) I could normally crush a single slab at 17. I didn’t like trying new things but I was introduced to ‘pizza flavor’ through Pepperidge Farms ‘pizza flavored’ goldfish crackers.

As my taste buds matured during puberty, pizza flavor seemed amazing. So I tried Ellio’s frozen pizza and immediately loved it. It’s total shit now, but back then it was actually really good. (See: Thanksgiving Ritual)

But Sam’s Pizza at 26th and the Boardwalk was still the God of Pizza in Wildwood. There is no other slice that can compete. Fuck Mack’s Pizza.

I felt calm. That was always a welcoming feeling because most of the time I was nervous and fearful in general. I told my mom I was headed to the beach for a bit. Life was so simple and beautiful back then. I wish I could have enjoyed it more.

But as I write this now, I think I did.

I was off today, and it was another perfect day in North Wildwood by the Sea. Sunny and a good beach day.

I grabbed my cigs, lighter, big blanket, a towel and a beach chair. I stuffed it all into the chair so I only had one thing to carry. Cigs were in the waistband of my bathing trunks and matches/lighter were either in the pack or tucked into the cellophane that encased the box. I’m wearing my Aerosmith T-shirt for no other reason but that I love that band with all of my heart.

I also brought my Polaroid One Shot Camera with me. (Google it kids!)

I walk over to 9th street towards Lola’s house.

Lola’s already sitting on the porch and ready to go. I like that. She looks sweet. She’s wearing a long T-shirt so it covers her like a shitty cotton mumu. I don’t care. I’m just happy she’s here.

“I see you’re ready to go.”

“Been waiting for hours. Where’ve you been?” She giggles and grabs her towel off the chair next to her and we’re off to the beach.

It’s not terribly hot and we chat as we make our way through the trail that leads to the open beach.

It’s a lovely August afternoon. Maybe one of the last great days of summer. The beach is filled with people and the smell of coppertone and solarcaine. I can hear the phillies game on several radios around me so it feels like some sort of beach stereo experience.

The extremely tanned ice cream man is making his way down the beach. He’s dressed all in white. His hair tawny from the summer sun. His legs are strong from marching up and down the beach for two months selling fudgicles, orange creamcicles and cherry ice. He carries on his back a small ice box loaded with treats and dry ice.

He calls out to anyone that’ll listen or the thirsty child that he has a box of treats for them.

“Ice cream!      Cherry Ice!       Fudgicle!”

The single propeller planes roll by in the sky over the Atlantic Ocean pulling long signs behind them that your best bet for dinner tonight is at Urie’s Fish Fry at 588 West Rio Grande Avenue.

Mom’s are putting lotion on their kids. Dads are laughing and talking about sports. Families are together and enjoying the summer sun. Happy to be away from the heat of the city. It’s always cooler at the shore and nice to escape the oppressive humidity of the heat in Philly.

Teens play frisbee and splash each other in the water. It’s a perfect day in the paradise I have been blessed to live in thanks to my father’s strategic moves to bring THE QUINTESSENTIAL SUMMER EXPERIENCE he had but sort of never had.

In this moment at age seventeen, I’m Wildwood royalty and I don’t even know it. I’ve lived in a house a block and a half from the beach in North Wildwood every summer for the last decade. All thanks to my father. I know sometimes I talk shit on my dad in this blog, but the guy was fucking magic whan it came to summer and christmas. (Not in that order!)

So here I am with Lola. Like everybody, we stake out our little piece of real estate on the beach and spread out my course blue blanket. I liked it because it could house several people and sand couldn’t penetrate the material. That’s key at the beach. Sand is your enemy. Chafing. Grit. Irritation. And other things…..

But sand is soft. It can get so hot that you will have to run to the beach and literally throw your towel ahead of you so you have a place to stand to rest. (We used to do this all of the time!)

But today the sand is soft under our feet. It’s warm and yields to our every step.

We lay out the big blue blanket and place it down like every other person on this beach. I drop my cigs and lighter and open the beach chair. I brought it because it holds all of my stuff in it and maybe Lola wants to chill in a chair and not be forced to sit on a blanket the whole time. I don’t know, so I just went with as many options as possible for her because this is all new territory.

She’s happy to sit on the blanket and I drop it in the chair. We’re chatting and I think we’re both starting to feel the August heat. Not in a sexual way that I know of, It’s just a really hot day.

“Wanna go in the ocean?”

“I think I need it at this point, Chaz.”

Lola takes off her big T-shirt. She’s wearing a brown one piece. The cool thing I realize in this moment is being at the beach with girls is that you get to see them strip down to basically underwear and it’s totally cool. It’s the only time in your young life that you get to see girls basically go down to a bra and panties right in front of a boy and it’s totally normal. But unknown to them in that moment it’s an explosively erotic experience.

This has happened to me over and over on this very beach. But it never comes to a fiery light until you hit puberty.

Everybody’s always stripping off their clothes on a regular basis everyday on the beach. It’s just what you all do to get some sun and go swimming.

But you reach a certain age and everything changes.

Anne pulls off her T-Shirt.

She’s beautiful in the late summer sun.

I look upon her. Lovely face, dark hair and warm brown eyes.

She’s wearing a brown one piece. It’s cut low in the front that showcases her ample breasts. There’s no back in this suit. It’s cut high on her thighs. Her legs, even though she’s short, are shapely and full in all of the right places. She’s absolutely gorgeous.

Her brown skin, tanned from the season glows in the late August sun. Like me she’s a little sad she’ll soon have to go back to Newark, NJ.

But I have this moment. I have today on this beach.

This is the sandy stage where I may have a sweet moment with this lovely girl who came to me in my favorite arcade.

“Let’s go in the water.”

“Yea. It’s hot.”

I walk to the edge of the sea with this new girl. She seems so nice and I feel no anxiety.

We jump into the waves. I love the force of the ocean even though I don’t like heights or deep water. But it feels nice with Lola.

The beach is full of tourists, but as we sink into the warm ocean, it’s just the two of us in this moment.

We’re swimming around and it feels so good. Anne is really sweet and we’re laughing and joking with each other. She looks beautiful.

She swims over to me and puts her arms around me. She’s lovely and wet. Her hair a tangle of curls. Her dark eyes sparkle in the late afternoon light. She glides into my lap. I cradle her. We’re in the ocean so she’s just sort of floating in my lap. She’s so close. I’m holding her in my arms now. I run my hands along her soft smooth thighs.

We kiss.

Lola’s lips her plump and salty. But so sweet against mine.

Our tongues swirl together.

She was like a luscious mermaid. I kissed her deeply as the waves washed around us as young lovers. Lola’s breasts are overwhelming and they are all around me as a teenage boy. It’s too much but just right in a three bears kind of way. It’s really nice to gently hold her.

It was one of the perfect moments in my life.

I’ve had many, but this was one of the first ones and they mean so much. They mark you so deeply.

We just floated in the sea kissing and cuddling and caressing. It was almost spiritual.

I fell in love with sweet Lola in that moment.

In 4 hours I’ll publish Part 3!

 

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

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Cherie – Chapter 29 – Darker the Berry Part 2

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, Cherie.”

Previously on Phicklephilly:

At this point I’m glad I have drawn my massive blue curtains so my neighbors aren’t losing their shit from what they are about to witness. This aging gentleman throttling this beautiful young black girl in his bed for the next twelve hours.

So after the massage, she’s primed and ready to roll. But there is something else…

I tell her that I know that she didn’t want anything for Valentine’s Day and she knows I don’t want anything. Cherie never wants anything from me. Just wants to be with me. We haven’t celebrated anything except our love in so many ways, and we’re doing it right. Life isn’t about stuff. Stuff and gifts is something you do to as an obligation for some empty holiday. Most of that crap was invented by advertising agencies to generate income for corporations. (Do your homework people) That’s not what real love is. Real love doesn’t want anything. You are satisfied with who you’re with because they’re a good match for you.

When I started this journey, I never thought I’d be here. I didn’t know that would happen. I just wanted to document what happened to me in my past relationships that failed in this fair city. I never thought I’d fall in love again, and I never thought it would be this glorious.

I go over to one of my dressers and pull out an elegant white box. I reiterate that Valentine’s Day has passed and I saw her before that but not on the day. I again tell her I want nothing from her because she gives me so much good love and that’s enough. I lay the box on the bed and tell her I felt compelled to get her a little something. It’s been two years since I’ve had a girlfriend and she’s so amazing I HAD to get her something.

She seems really surprised and delighted. She opens it and it is a very expensive set of lingerie. I know her sizes and it will look amazing on her.

Cherie LOVES it. She’s so grateful. She says that she’s so happy she could cry. I tell her there’s no reason for tears and please just accept it and maybe wear it for me or whenever.

I had to get her something. I couldn’t be without love for two years and not get my new love a little sexy something for my baby on Valentine’s Day.

I had to do it. I’m a giver and Cherie has been so incredible in my resurrection back into the world of romance where I belong it almost doesn’t do her love justice, but I had to do something!

I feel her pleasure at this small sweet token and her reaction justifies why I love this woman so much. The girl who wants nothing and only gives of herself so perfectly. (tearing up as I write this)

I’m amazed at my good fortune. This lovely girl absolutely loves me unconditionally and I feel the same. She’s so easy to be around an I’m happy when we’re together. All of the stuff we do is always sweet and happy. She is a nymphomaniac and the only thing that’s keeping her from being a sex addict or a whore is loyalty and self-esteem. I’m on the receiving end of that all day long. She lives an hour away. I still get to have time alone and with my friends and everybody, but she’s still my girlfriend and my number one.

Michelle and I worked together. (See: Michelle – A Brand New Day) Annabelle had a crazy schedule because she was crazy and disorganized and didn’t know who she was. (See: Annabelle – 2013 to 2014 – Nice to Meet You) On the other hand Cherie has her whole week and life mapped out on a weekly basis. She has stability and I like that. She has her whole next semester and medical school planned as well. She’s either going to be a neuroscience doctor for pediatric medicine or she’ll teach it at a university.

We tore each other apart tonight. Cherie truly is my match. I have never in my life (and I’ve been in 3 bands) had a woman who is more sexually focused and driven in my life. Her target is me. Our sex is more amazing than can I describe in this little blog. She’ll arrive at 9pm and will collapse at midnight. If she needs to be on an 8am train back to Children’s Hospital I will be raped at 4:30am by her.

Last night I had the most joyous sex I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been a hypersexual since childhood, so maybe I’ve finally met my Queen.

Cherie needs to be on an 8:05 train back to the hospital. So we get up at 6am and get ourselves together and head out to breakfast. We hit the Midtown Diner like always. Breakfast is fast, cheap and open 24 hours.

I’m looking at her across the table and we know what happened. We are now more in love and deeply connected that we’ve ever been. We know it.

“Can I tell you something Cher?”

“Yea sure baby anything…”

“Everybody wants this.”

“What, delicious breakfast?”

“What we have. Everybody in the whole world wants what we have right now. But its ours. There are people with enough riches to make Solomon blush, but they can’t buy this feeling.”

“I know…”

“They all want the feeling of being in love that we have right now. “They can take all the trips and have all the fun they want but they would trade it all if they could have what we have right now with each other. It’s powerful and rare, and we have it and I want to hold onto it for as long as I can. No matter what heartache or problems you have, this is the greatest feeling that everyone wants.

“I know it; to fall in love…” she says softly.

That’s it. That’s everything. The most powerful thing in the universe. To have that easy feeling and that’s tender love and fiery sex with the one you truly love is breathtakingly elegant.

Yet some, like my last girlfriend squandered it because they don’t even know what it is.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, Cherie.” (I’m getting misty writing this about her)

The rest is just mortgage or rent, bills, work, kids and all that other shit you have to do to survive.

“I love you so much, Cherie.”

“I love you more…”

She can always one up me…. my love.

After breakfast, ($20! yay!) I get her to her train. Parting is always such sweet sorrow. But I got to at least sit and have breakfast with my sweet lovely girl. I got to discuss with her how important our relationship is to me and what this kind of love means to me and to humanity.

Me writing again. Finally. A blog about dating a bunch of crazy women and fun experiences has become a document to my love and admiration of a wonderful woman who has taken a chance with her heart on a guy like me.

The train pulls from the station and through the window she blows me a kiss. I watch as the train barrels down the tracks back to her home. My queen kidnapped again. She’ll work the next ten hours following doctors around and taking care of patients. I’ll go home and nap for two hours and then run the salon from open to close.

I am sobbing as I write these words….

Life is beautiful.

We are one inside these walls. Undercover.

 

 

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

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Cherie – Chapter 27 – Afternoon Delight

I saw Cherie a week ago Friday. We keep in touch through texting. We talk about my job, and the salon, and her jobs and her son. Just daily connection stuff. So it was Sunday night and I asked her if we had a lunch date in our future this week. She said she would be able to meet me at 3:15 the next day.

I had just come from lunch with Church and we went over to Square 1682 just to sit at the bar and work. We didn’t drink anything because it was the middle of the day. Phicklephilly doesn’t day drink unless he’s out with friends on a Saturday. Plus, girlfriend is on the way and I don’t want anything to affect my hydraulics if you get my meaning.

So I get the text that Cherie has arrived at Suburban Station. I tell her to walk South on 17th street. Cherie my love has a terrible sense of direction. She doesn’t know Philly’s streets because she lives in Pottstown. But if I tell her to go North or East or South or West, she has no idea where she’s going. I take it for granted that you could drop me off anywhere in this city and I could find my way home or to any destination. Even with the incredible technology we all carry around in our pockets, Cherie can’t get it together.

I don’t mind this about her at all, I just feel bad for her getting lost all of the time. But I usually guide her to wherever we’re going to meet. She texts me that she has arrived and I told her to just walk down 17th Street. Within a few minutes she texts “North or South?” I reply, South. She says, “Okay because I just walked to Arch street.”

“That’s North sweetie. Turn around and come South. JFK, Market, Chestnut, to Sansom. That’s where I’ll be.”

Within a few minutes she appears. Church says he has to head out, and I tell him Cherie and I need to go workout together for a couple of hours.

We walk back to the apartment. “What time do you have to leave?”

“I have to catch the 6:05 train.”

“Okay. It’s 3:30 now. That gives us 2 hours until we should walk back to Suburban Station.”

We go straight to the bedroom where I proceed to ravish my lovely girl. She’s delighted and is a willing and very enthusiastic participant. We know our time together is short so we have to make the most of it.

And make the most of it we do. Cherie’s is spectacular as always and I rise to the occasion like the Phoenix.

I love Cherie. She’s like the perfect girl for me. She’s sweet, funny and smart. She doesn’t want anything from me but my love. (I still do stuff for her though) She’s low key and has an agreeable demeanor. She’s fit, and has lovely soft skin.

For a girl with such an insatiable sexual appetite she is surprisingly vanilla in some ways. But I like that. She’s a bisexual nymphomaniac but there are surprisingly some things she has yet to experienced. So that’s where I come in. We’ll slowly move forward and experiment with new things. I know it’ll be good, and maybe even I’ll experience some new things that a jaded old dude has never done.

Looking forward to the adventurous journey with my lovely lady! She’s a beauty.

 

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

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Dating and Relationship Advice – 10 Signs You’re With A Good Man

Here is the list of signs he’s a good man and how this type of guy will act while in a relationship.

1. He’s always honest with you.

When building a foundation for a happy, healthy relationship, a good man will understand that honesty is always the best policy.

 

2. He stands by you, no matter what.

When a man commits his love and his time to a woman, there are no stipulations or circumstances required. There will be good times and there will be not-so-good times. There will be challenges and unexpected situations that arise. But he will stay by your side and be your teammate through it all

 

3. He never lets you forget how much he loves you.

I cannot tell you how many conversations I’ve had with women who tell me that there is no affection in their relationship. The man in their life does not make them feel loved, wanted, or appreciated. This is a profoundly important piece of the puzzle: a good man will always remind you how much you mean to him.

I understand men can be less communicative or affectionate than women are, but this does not excuse the severe lack of effort put forth by our generation. If someone truly loves you, you will know it and feel it. If they don’t, you’ll be wondering all the time if they do.

 

4. He always supports you.

Regardless of whether you want to go back to school after 20 years to get your Master’s degree, start a singing career, or stay at home to raise a family, a good man will always support you and what you want out of your life. He will never discourage you or make you feel as though you can’t do what you set out to do.

He will be beside you every step of the way, cheering on your victories and comforting you during your defeats.

 

5. He works to gain your trust.

A good man will want you to be comfortable and confident in your relationship. The very cornerstone of this is being able to trust someone, and he will realize that. Without trust, there is no foundation for love or respect.

He will understand that trust is not just handed over to someone — it has to be earned, and then it has to be kept.

 

6. He always makes you feel beautiful.

He will understand that making you feel beautiful does not just mean saying the words to you. It will mean truly making you feel beautiful. In the ways he looks at you, touches you, and treats you. He will notice details when you put effort into your appearance and remind you how attractive he still finds you even when you don’t.

A good man will understand that whether you are in your sweatpants on the couch or in your evening gown heading to a gala, when you love someone for who they truly are, everything about them becomes beautiful.

 

7. He makes you feel safe.

I have always said that I believe one of the best compliments a woman can give a man is telling him that she feels safe around him. Regardless of how attracted she is to you or how funny she thinks you are or how much money you have, if a woman cannot sleep soundly by your side at night, none of it matters.

 

8. He’s always trying to improve himself.

Whether it’s learning new things, developing a new skill set, reading a new book or watching a documentary, a good man who prides himself on continuous self-improvement will always be intellectually challenging you and keeping your attention. He will be doing these things for himself, but the added benefit will be the positive impact it has on your relationship.

 

9. He’s never abusive.

Perhaps the most important point of all. Whether it be mentally, emotionally, or physically, a good man will never even think about being abusive towards you or harmful in any way. If this happens to you, please have the courage and respect for yourself in order to talk to someone or walk away immediately. No good person would ever act like this and it will not get better on its own.

 

10. He opens up to you.

It can be difficult for some men to express their emotions, fears, and even inner-most desires, but having the right woman in our life often helps to open those doors. A good man, while understanding, of course, that some things are to be kept private, will not hide things from you or bottle up his feelings knowing it will cause tension and frustration.

 

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 & 12pm EST.

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Cherie – Chapter 10 – Hammer into Anvil

“What’s meant for you…won’t go by you.”

Since I began writing phicklephilly a year and a half ago, this is by far and away my favorite post. I started writing about all of the crazy women and relationships and dates I had gone on in my life. But I quickly realized if I was going to write a dating and relationship blog, then I’d better start dating again. If I hadn’t then I may have never have met lovely Cherie.

So if you’re out there swiping right to the point of having to ice down your thumbs, keep at it. Your next great love could be the very next swipe!

Saturday finally arrives. I woke up and got myself together. I did some last-minute manscaping, and started packing a bag. I went into my closet and grabbed a plastic bag that was hanging on a hook. In it is like tons of condoms. Well, not tons. Like 50.

I start going through them. It’s obviously been awhile since I acquired them because most of them are expired. Now if I had some pills that were expired and not by much I might take them. They’re probably still good. But who wants to take the risk with a condom? Only one little dude needs to get through. One.

I need to go to the drug store.

I head out to my favorite weekend breakfast spot. I have my usual. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and a toasted buttery bagel. I should probably go to the liquor store. I had up to Fine Wine and Good Spirits at 21st and Market street. I pick up a fifth of vodka. I figured, what if I want a cocktail later? I’m not paying hotel room service prices. I never drink or smoke around Cherie, but we’ll be together for a long time and I may want to chill with a beverage at some point. On the way back from the liquor store I stop at my dry cleaners and pick up my shirts. I drop everything off and go back out. I head down to the Walgreens at 18th and South. I grab a bottle of club soda and go to the counter.

“Give me ten condoms” Suddenly I hear giggling behind me in line. I turn around and see two teenage girls laughing. I turn back to the clerk and say: “Make it and even dozen.”

No. That didn’t happen. I just love doing that bit.

I went to the family planning aisle and looked at the variety of condoms. They have all kinds now. Ribbed. (For her pleasure) Couldn’t I turn those inside out and make them for my pleasure? Kidding. They have condoms that warm up when you use them. How cold are your genitals? If you’re about to have sex with someone, I would hope your naughty bits are hot. They also make ones that speed her up and slow you down. Okay. I decide on the Durex Real Feel non latex condom 3 pack. I don’t know about you but nobody likes condoms. In my experience latex condoms smell like, well, latex. Fresh rubber. I don’t like that smell. I have cracked open so many trojans in my life that the smell of latex alone could take the wind out of my proverbial sails. Plus if you really get going, who wants your bedroom to smell like burnt rubber? Might as well have sex under the bleachers at the local drag strip.

I only bought the three pack because I still had about eight unexpired condoms at the house. Then I thought, How many times are we actually going to have intercourse? I mean, the reason we got the hotel room is to finally get the sex out of our systems. Not out completely, mind you, just to relieve the tension that’s been building up over our last few dates. Maybe we’ll do it a few times. We’ll sleep. Go out. Get something to eat, etc. Just to be safe. I’m going to bring all of the unexpired condoms and use these new ones first. Cherie says she’s an animal, but the body has its limits. I’m not getting any younger, and it’s been two years since I was in a relationship and having sex on a regular basis. What if I freeze up and can’t perform at all? Nightmare.

I’ll be fine. I really like Cherie. She’s so sweet and easy-going, she’ll understand and be patient with me. I need to stop talking like this. Don’t want to psych myself out. I pick up a small bottle of mouthwash and pay for my stuff and leave.

I get back to the house and pack way too much stuff. I don’t travel anywhere. When was the last time I had to pack a bag and go to a hotel? I’m checking in at 3pm today, and I’ll be out of there at 10:30am tomorrow. How much clothes will I need? I’m really going there to take my clothes off not wear a bunch of outfits. I had like two pair of underwear. Three T-shirts, two pair of socks, just too much stuff. It was one night! I gather all of my toiletries and grab the vodka and the bottle of club and stuff it all in the bag.

I summon an UBER and head outside and stand by the curb. The car arrives, and I tell him to take me to the tanning salon. I have some time to kill before check in, and I figured I’d go chat with Trish.

I get to the salon and put my bag in the back. Trish asks where I’m going. I’ve known her for a long time so I can tell her what’s going on. I tell her how Carly hooked me up with the Club Quarters suite. I have only known Cherie for a little over a month and we’re going there with the sole intention of consummating our relationship. We chat and I realize that I’m just killing time before the 3pm check in. Cherie texts me that she’s on her way. She’s an hour away so I have time to get checked in.

Years ago, I could have simply brought her to my house, but since my daughter Lorelei lives with me now, I just can’t take a chance. Besides, if you really want to accomplish something, you should lock yourself away and get it done. No distractions. Like writing. I have to laugh when I see all of these people writing in coffee shops around the city. Is that to show off and let people know you’re a writer? Writing is a painstaking process. It takes time and it’s a lonely profession. But, I’m one of the few who likes to be alone.

I head over to the hotel. I go up to the front desk. I check in. “One or two key cards, sir?”

“Two.”

The lobby’s really nice. There is a flat screen TVs on the walls. There’s an area where you can get coffee and tea 24 hours a day.  Plenty of spots to just hang out. The hotel is even connected to Davio’s, the Italian restaurant next door. Somehow, I know I won’t be using any of these facilities. Cherie texts me that she’s in the city, and headed to the parking garage. I dash up to the room. 1107. I walk up and down the hallway, but have trouble finding it. Then I realize that it’s near the elevators.

The room is a sort of isolated from the other rooms on the floor. I enter the room and drop my bag. To my left and back is the bathroom. Small but nicely appointed. Big shower. (Noted) There’s a kitchenette beyond that. Won’t be cooking anything in there. (Well, not that kind of cooking) There’s a small table with two chairs. Above it is a flat screen TV mounted to the wall. Then off to the right is the bed. It’s a good-sized bed. I draw back the curtains to reveal a nice eastern view on this sunny Saturday afternoon.

Cherie is texting me that she’s parking. I grab my card key and head back to the lobby and out. I walk up to the Windham Hotel. The parking garage is there. I go into Two Liberty and into the little shopping center inside. I know just where she’ll come up from the garage. I walk to the elevators, and just as I get there, the doors open and Cherie appears.

I take her bag, and we head back to the Club Quarters. It’s 3:15pm. We go into the room and I give her a key card. There’s little bottles in a rack in the hallway that you can fill with purified water, so I fill up a pair for us. She’s exploring the room. I return and she jumps onto the bed. I join her. We kick off our shoes and I hold her in my arms, kissing her ripe lips.

Lips I have sorely missed since Wednesday.

I was having some fear and nerves. I hadn’t been intimate with someone I really cared about since April 2014. (See: Annabelle) Cherie was very sweet and soothing. That’s one of the things I really dig about this lady. She just has a great laid back vibe that keeps me relaxed and cool. We really wanted to begin, so she just started to undress. She was down to her burgundy matching bra and panties with white lace trim in no time. (Wowza!)

I have struggled with what I was going to write at this point. If this ever becomes a book or a TV series on HBO, I suppose they can spell it out. I just don’t want to describe our lovemaking  in graphic detail. It would be fun, but Phicklephilly isn’t a pornographic piece. But I will say this. Cherie was patient and loving. But once we got going. There was no stopping us. It was wonderful. It was pretty much all we did all afternoon. The sun went down and so did I. The curtains closed and her thighs opened. Around 9pm we had a pizza delivered to the room. We didn’t sleep much that night. Great thing was… It was daylight savings, so I got to spend an extra free hour with Cherie. We should make this an annual event. We turn the clocks back an hour and we check into a hotel and destroy each other for 20 hours.  I definitely gave her lots of presents for her birthday.

We got a few hours sleep. We had to be out of there by 10:30 at the latest because I had to open the salon at 11am on Sunday. We woke up around 8:30 I think. We proceeded to do one more for the road. I love morning sex. There’s just something hot and turgid about it.

I have to say. Cherie is one of the most sexual women I have ever met. I’m not going to reveal any intimate details, but it was probably not only the best sex I’ve had since 2002, it was the most times in one session. Just spectacular. I call that kind of sex “Chuck Yeager Sex.” Chuck Yeager was the type of pilot that tested planes not to see how fast they could go. He tested them to see what the plane could withstand. That’s what it was like with Cherie. Just like my Pop used to say, “Anything worth doing, is worth overdoing.”

A-fucking-men.

We shared the spacious shower. She said she liked really hot showers, I told her I didn’t. She purposely kept the water not too hot for me. She looks beautiful. The water beading on her glistening brown body was lovely. I stood in the back like the man always has to when you take a shower with a girl. I washed her back while I was standing there. She told me to get up front under the water and get washed up. So I did, and washed my hair and then I was done. I hopped out. “Great now I can crank the hot water.” she said. I laughed and thanked her for not scalding my tender hide. I toweled off and got dressed. She came out a short time later. “I’m a little ashy” she said. “Will you rub some cream on my legs?” So I leaped at that opportunity. (Those shapely supple legs!) She did the rest of her, and finished dressing.

We gathered our things from  the room and headed down to the lobby. We had a solid hour before I had to open the salon. So we checked out and headed over to the Midtown Diner. It felt good to be there. It was the classic scene. You give me great sex and then I take you out to breakfast. I had scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. Cherie had the Hungry Man platter, which is a little bit of everything. (Baby was hungry!) It was delicious and I was feeling great energy. I was a very satisfied lion.

After breakfast I walked her back to the elevator at Two Liberty. She thanked me for everything and for making her birthday magical. I kissed her goodbye and she stepped into the elevator and was gone.

Oh…one last detail.

Last night I told her I loved her.

She said it back.

 

 

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

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Cherie – Chapter 8 – Lion and the Scorpion – Part II

Two weeks ago this story left off with the following cliffhanger:

…But here’s the best part of all of that. She works in a pediatrician’s office as one of her two jobs. She says she loves children. She wants to be a doctor that practices pediatric neurosis when she finishes her education. That’s awesome. So I’m assuming, young woman, loves kids, already has one would probably want another one or two to round out the dinner table. Based on these stories you know that my last 3 relationships all ended for that reason. I’ve already been married. I have a child. I have paid over $120,000 in tax-free money to someone who is not a nice person and hurts those around her. My ex-wife has already burned through her second marriage and has another kid. But I digress.

Oh sure, I could get married and have another kid and live happily ever after. Sure that could happen. But based on my track record, it’s a sucker bet. If I did that and somehow fucked it up again. My child support payments would be coming out of my Social Security checks. No. Just place the gun in my mouth and gently curl your finger so that everything I ever was ends up on the wall behind me.

So I pull the trigger on this lovely, seemingly perfect romance. Because this way I don’t have to say my last 4 relationships ended for the same reason. I can still say 3, because this beautiful flower that has grown between Cherie myself in the last few weeks will be stomped into the earth under the hob nail boot of reality. Doomed from the start. Destroyed before it could ever flourish.

“Do you want more children, Cherie?”

“No. I don’t want anymore children. I told you that on our first date.”

How the fuck could I have missed this incredibly earth shattering piece of information? This is incredible news. Groundbreaking stuff. If she really doesn’t want kids, we could actually sustain a long-term relationship.

Maybe.

She knows my situation. Well, I’ll just play it cool and try to fly level. We’ll see where this goes. I won’t lose my mind and rush into anything. My last girlfriend has been gone for two years. Cherie’s been split from her son’s father for two years as well. Maybe the stars have aligned. She’s really laid back. Getting her education. Working two jobs in her field of endeavor. I’m not going to think about all of this. I’m just going to enjoy our time together. Let the universe unfold as it should.

We decide to get something to eat. She’s come all the way down here. I should at least feed the girl. We walk South on 22nd street. Down to Sansom. We head East and I look through the window at Cavanaugh’s. Too noisy on a Saturday night. We round the corner at 18th and I peek in Wrap Shack. Looks too crowded. Then I get an idea. She once said she liked breakfast for dinner. I know just where to take her.

We hit the Midtown Diner up the street. It’s dead. Which I think is odd, but then I speak to the hostess. She says this is the calm before the storm. They watch all of the people walking South to the bars, and then around 11:30 to 2am they all come back. Then the place gets busy again.

This 24 hour diner has been here a long time. It’s a Philly classic. All of the waitresses are old. They’ve all worked there for many years. That says a lot about a place.  The servers are the kind of old dolls that call everyone “Hon.” The whole dining room is empty. We can pick any booth we want. We take a seat and check out the menus.

“Remember that black lace top I wore on our second date?” Cherie asks.

“How can I forget? I reprimanded you for dressing like that for school.” I respond.

“Well, I had a T-shirt in my car. I wore that top for you. I was all covered with mosquito bites and covered up, but I wanted to show you my body. I changed into the T-shirt before I went to class.”

Wow. I had no idea. I need to pay close attention to this one. She was into me by our second date at El Rey. That little minx. She’s playing footsie with me under the table. She reaches under the table and rubs my leg. I’m trying to concentrate on the menu but it’s useless. This is how she is when she’s sober. I’m sober too. I don’t even think about drinking or smoking when I’m with her. Cherie is the drug I’m on. Just like the song by Roxy Music.

But don’t you know, this couple comes in shortly after and sits in the booth right next to us. I mean right next to us. I turn my head to the right, and they’re right there! C-Blocked again!

Everything is liquid between us and everybody is doing everything they can to stop us from attacking each other. We actually feel a little angry about this. I just laugh and tell her that humans are for the most part social animals. They can’t help but be near each other. We discuss moving to the back, but decide against it. We’d look rude. It’s not that important. We’ll have plenty of time together. The game is afoot and I love it.

“Cherie. Your birthday’s Thursday. What are you doing for your birthday?”

“Nothing. I have to work. I don’t really care about my birthday.”

“Don’t you want anything?”  I know it’s early in the game, but I’m trying to be nice.

“You know what I want?”

“What?”

“I want you. I want to be with you. You know… in that way.”

Okay…. Okay…. This lady knows what she wants. I’m almost find it a bit intimidating but arousing. Man… This is going to be good. I need to plan something soon.

I’m attracted to Cherie, and think she’s a great girl. I love making her laugh and she also has a great sense of humor. I like when she just looks at me with her dark dreamy eyes. I feel so lucky. At my age, to have a lovely girl like this attracted to me is wonderful. I’m not experiencing the intoxicating rush I felt with my last girlfriend, Annabelle, but I feel safer this time around. (See:Annabelle – Nice To Meet You) Cherie knows who she is and what she wants. She’s already been a parent for six years. She’s grounded and responsible. I’m actually relieved that I’m falling for this woman, and I’m not on an emotional rollercoaster like I was with the highly unstable Annabelle. I’m not wondering what she’ll do next, or what crazy decision she’ll make about her life. That poor impulsive fool.

This feels much better. I’m happy that Cherie’s in my life. I’m not a spiritual person, but this feels like some sort of blessing.

The waitress approaches. “Hey there. It’s been awhile since you two have been in here.”

I’m thinking, it certainly has been awhile, since we’ve never been there together. But her sentiment is sweet. Maybe it’s just me that looks familiar. Or that my daughter has mysteriously become a black woman. We order some food and are chatting. Already deciding that we’d like to meetup on Wednesday for lunch. I know just where I’m going to take her. We’re also planning on seeing each other on Saturday too. This is getting serious. Technically, this is only our fourth date, but we’ve had very long dates. It just flows naturally.

My friend Carly said she may be able to hook me up with a room at the Club Quarters for Saturday. She said that if the hotel isn’t 95% full, they’ll hook me up with a room for $50. Which is incredible. If not, Carly said she can still hook me up with a room for $129, which still isn’t bad. Think about what I’m getting. Spend the night with a beautiful young woman? Totally worth whatever it costs. I could also take her down to the shore house. But that’s a hike, and I have to be back Sunday morning to run that salon. So simply for the sake of geography and time, Club Quarters works for me. I’ve already cleared it with my sister that no one will be at the shore house just in case. I won’t have to get a zip car. We’ll cruise down in the Saab.

I think about how frustrating and confounding my courtship was with Michelle, and also with Annabelle. All the back and forth. Flip flopping with their choices. Not really knowing what they wanted. Cherie is direct and clear on what she likes and what she wants. It just makes for a happier more calm relationship.

We finish eating and those C-Blocking losers next to us have already left, so we have a little personal time before the bill comes. Remember how I used to complain about all those senior citizens I was dating and how the wallets never came out? This is so different from that. Cherie drives an hour to come down here to see me. Pays $25 to put her car in a lot. Doesn’t want anything. The bill is only $17. I’ve been with her for seven hours. $17 is what the whole date cost me.

We walk back to the lot at 23rd and Cherry. Isn’t that cop still sitting in his SUV in the same exact spot? It’s been hours!  What is he on, stake out?  We decide to just leave. She drives down to around 21st and Lombard and finds a quiet spot. People are walking by in Halloween costumes. It’s fun to watch. We’re talking and more kissing ensues. It’s really nice.

It’s getting late, and I know she has to make the hour drive back to Pottstown. It’s really great that she comes to me. She said her personality is that of a pleaser. That’s funny. Me too. I certainly am looking forward to pleasing her at some point.

She drives me back to my place and we say our good nights. I ask her to please text me when she safely arrives home. She says she will. I go upstairs and fix myself a vodka club on the rocks and light a cigarette. It feels good to be home in my chair after a wonderful evening with Cherie. I think about our lunch date coming up on Wednesday. I’ll call the hostess ahead of time and reserve my favorite table. I know Cherie has made it clear what she wants for her birthday, but that’s inevitable. I’m going to give that gift to her a lot. That really seems like a gift for me. Again, I cannot believe my good fortune here.

I feel like I should get her a little something, and give it to her on Wednesday. I’ll think on this. Talk to my female friends. I can’t go with jewelry, it’s too early. Huge mistake. That sets the bar too high if we make it to Christmas. God, then there’s Valentine’s Day after that. I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ve got a few days to plot what I’ll do. Something small and sweet.

My phone pings and she is home safe.

I wish her sweet dreams.

 

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

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Cherie – Chapter 7 – Lion and the Scorpion – Part I

“Do you want more children, Cherie?”

After our epic 10 hour date last Saturday, we decided to go again this weekend. This would technically be our 4th date, but it felt like our 7th. I knew I couldn’t top last week, but I wanted to come up with some fun activities to do with my latest lady.

I looked online for any happenings. It was Halloween weekend, so I figured there must be something fun to do. The pumpkin event at Headhouse? No. Mini Golf in Northern Liberties?  Fuck Northern Liberties. The weather was supposed to be nice. Maybe we could get on the big red double-decker bus and tour the city. I know the city pretty intimately, but it would be fun to get the official tour and be out in the fresh air on one of the last warm days of Autumn.

I go online and buy a pair of tickets. $60. Not bad. Here’s how it works. You go to 5th and Market Streets. The buses run every half an hour. You give them you ticket, and get on the bus whenever you want. That ticket is now good for the next 24 hours. The bus tours around the city and stops at 15 different landmarks. There are even tour guides on every bus telling you what it is you’re looking at. One of the best parts of this tour is, you don’t have to stay on the bus the whole time. You can get off at any number of stops at any time. Why didn’t I ever think to do this with Michelle when we were together? (See: Michelle – A Brand New Day) You chill on the tour, hop off somewhere. Grab a bite. Have a few drinks and then get back on. You could literally eat and drink your way around the whole city for a day. All the while learning things about our fair city. It would be like having your own personal driver and tour guide, while you get hammered all over the city. Genius.

But it wouldn’t be like that with Cherie. She’s a different cat all together. I tell her to meet me at 5th and Market at 1:30pm. I’d like us to start the tour around 2pm. So I have we have this thing called “Cher-time.” I always allow her an extra half hour before we’re supposed to meet at a proposed time. She’s driving down from Pottstown. There could be construction, detours, weather, etc. I’m hardcore about the clock and being on time as you well know, but I’ll make an allowance here. Because it’s she who is driving all the way into the city to see me.

So, I ordered the tickets and printed them out on Friday night. Within an hour, I get a text from Cherie, that she is having babysitter issues, and she won’t be able to get down to Philly until 4pm. That throws a wrench in things. If it were summertime, it wouldn’t matter if we got on the tour at 4pm, because it stays light until after 8pm. But this time of year it’s starting to get dark at 6pm and it’s getting colder at night.

I call the Big Red Bus Company. I tell them my dilemma. The really cordial guy who answered the phone tells me those tickets can be used at anytime. They’re only activated when I actually present them and step on a bus. I was afraid they would expire or I somehow wasted $60, but no. I can use these tickets for another future date, with Cherie!

She doesn’t know any of this is happening, it’s all behind the scenes. I think she’s just a little sad she can’t get down here sooner. I tell her I have everything under control. She says that she loves a man in control.

I like her words.

She’s on her way down and texts me that there is a detour up around 307, because of some rowing event. I tell her not to worry, and just take her time and be safe. She later texts me from 23rd and Cherry. I tell her I’m waiting for her at 21st and Pine. Somehow she gets a little lost, but finally gets to me. I hop in the Saab and off we go. I tell her about the bus tour thing and initially I could tell she was sad that it was too late to do it. I’m looking at her sweet pout lip. I tell her not to worry because we can use them anytime. She’s happy about that. I tell her it’s another day of dating that’s already paid for. I told her if we’re up on the top-level of the bus it may get a little chilly but we can sit in the back of the bus and cuddle to stay warm. She says she’s down for that for sure. I ask her if she has a problem sitting in the back of the bus. She laughs and tells me she does not. It’s not racially insensitive if the person you are with is intelligent and you’re dating her.

I don’t really have a plan at this point. It’s 5pm now. She drives up to a parking lot back out at 23rd and Cherry streets, It’s pretty deserted. She pulls in. There is no attendant. There are some signs up that say weekend permits only. It almost appears we could just park here and nobody would even know the lot is so empty. But being the honest person Cherie is, she pulls up and leans out the window. She starts putting cash in the machine. I glance over at her. She’s half way out the window because she didn’t pull close enough to the machine. Her shirt rides up her back and I see a horizontal patch of lovely brown skin. Framed above her jeans is lacy turquoise underwear. Is she doing this on purpose?

We pull in and she picks this isolated spot. It’s still light out but dusk is approaching. We’re chatting and catching up. But that slowly turns into dreamy kissing. This goes on for a while and becomes quite passionate.

It’s getting dark and Cherie seems to have no interest in going anywhere or seeing anything around the city. She’s content to stay here and be with me. So I start to feel like something is about to happen in the moment of passion. I feel like a teenager again. Making out with a pretty girl in a car in the dark. And then it happens.

The C-Block. The CB. Doesn’t a Police vehicle pull into the lot and circle around and park about 30 feet away at my 10 o’clock position? Just sits there. Motor running. Headlights shining outward. I can’t believe this is happening again. Cherie says the cops can’t see what her hands are doing below the dashboard. She also notes that the idea of law enforcement parked there while things are happening in here heightens the thrill.

It has become clear to me at this point that Cherie is very interested in me. I’m happy about this. I have been on this dating odyssey, and it’s as if I had to go on all of those dates for this woman to be delivered to me. I’ve learned much on this journey. But like she once said to me…” Be careful for what you wish for.” She’s intelligent, funny, easy-going, beautiful, fit, and on the right side of thirty. I think I just checked off every box on my list. Now it appears there is only one box left that needs checking.

But not in front of the cops.

I suppose some of you may be wondering why I don’t just take her back to my apartment and throttle her. I didn’t want to mention this before but I have a 19-year-old daughter. She lives with me. When she came to me during her senior year in high school, I was single. Technically I still am. I don’t want to start bringing strange women into the house just yet. I haven’t even discussed it with her. If she were sitting on the sofa and I just came rolling in with some young chick, and took her back to the bedroom, that just wouldn’t be cool. Maybe when I know the place is clean, and my daughter is away for the weekend for sure. I’m sure the situation is the same for Cherie. Her son is 6 years old. It’s just weird bringing a strange man into mommy’s bed. I have a lot of will power and am a very patient man. I’m not worried. We’ll figure it out.

Anyway, we’re getting antsy. Cherie suggests we take a walk. I agree. It’s a nice night. This way the police sitting there for the last hour doing nothing will see that we are clean upstanding citizens. Not some interracial couple that has to hide their forbidden romance in some vacant lot on the outskirts of town.

We walk a ways. So I figure maybe I’ll take her somewhere and get her something to eat. But she has other plans. We walk a few blocks and end up on this small street with very little on it. We get to the middle of the block and she stops. She just wants to hang out and make out. I can’t believe this is happening. When I think of all of the drinks and dinners I bought for these other women, and felt nothing, this little vixen just wants to play with me. This goes on for about 45 minutes. It’s a deserted street. We’re right in the middle of the block facing each other. So I can see if anybody is walking up the street or if a car is coming. She can do the same in the opposite direction. Again, I feel like I’m 17 years old and I’m out at night with my 14-year-old girlfriend, Anne. We’re just holding each other and chatting and kissing and gazing into each other’s eyes.

Feels like love to me.

From the very first meeting we just sort of clicked. I thought she was great chill girl. She liked that I was a white gentleman that made her laugh. Yes, I did gather more intel on this date. Her son’s father clipped her when she was 17 years old. He was in his 30’s. He was white. She said they waited until she was 18 to have sex. I agreed with that idea. (Avoid those pesky statutory rape laws.) Apparently he was married and has 4 other children! She says she was not the home wrecker. They bet in a bar but I didn’t push her for details. I asked her to describe him. I didn’t know what to expect. She simply said. 5’9″ okay looking. A douchebag. Also she seems a little sore that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with his son with her. But he does pay child support. So kudos, buddy. But put some more time in with your boy, asshole. You only get one chance.

They’re only children ONCE.

But here’s the best part of all of that. She works in a pediatrician’s office as one of her two jobs. She says she loves children. She wants to be a doctor that practices pediatric neurosis when she finishes her education. That’s awesome. So I’m assuming, young woman, loves kids, already has one would probably want another one or two to round out the dinner table. Based on these stories you know that my last 3 relationships all ended for that reason. I already have been married. I have a child. I have paid over $125,000 in tax-free money to someone who is not a nice person and hurts those around her. My ex-wife has already burned through her second marriage and has another kid.

But I digress.

Oh sure, I could get married and have another kid and live happily ever after. Sure that could happen. But based on my track record, it’s a sucker’s bet. If I did that and somehow fucked it up again. My child support payments would be coming out of my Social Security checks. No. Just place the gun in my mouth and gently curl your finger so that everything I ever was ends up on the wall behind me.

So I pull the trigger. The lynch pin in this lovely, seemingly perfect romance. Because this way I don’t have to say my last 4 relationships ended for the same reason. I can still say 3, because this beautiful flower that has grown between Cherie myself in the last few weeks will be stomped into the earth under the hob nail boot of reality. Doomed from the start. Destroyed before it could ever flourish.

“Do you want more children, Cherie?”

Tune in 2 weeks from now for the chilling conclusion to this deal breaking tale!

 

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

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