2/3 of a NOLA Hat Trick

11:38 pm - Mon, Jul 4, 2011: 35 notes

2/3 of a NOLA Hat Trick

Remember my life mantra of making the interesting choice versus the happy choice?

This weekend I was going to do a lot of nothing. I was going to go for the day and meet Misty, but spend the rest of the weekend basically by myself in Birmingham feeling sad and alone. Superman had plans. Dating prospects were slim.

At work Thursday I made a comment to my coworkers that I wanted to go to New Orleans for the weekend. I’ve never been and it’s only about 5 hrs from Bham. Let me back up for a second. At my new job I have many, many coworkers. Recently, I got reassigned to a new position, and so I get to work out of the main office for awhile. This has allowed me to get to know some of my coworkers better, as I sit in what amounts to a row of tables with 8 other people.

So Coworker A, who sits next to me and who is a fine male specimen (who is quiet and shy) says that he is going to New Orleans for the weekend. I ask him a series of questions to see the extent of his plans. I talk to Coworker M (female), who says she might be down for the trip. I’m worried about it because I’ve never been, but I figure with Coworker A in the city and Coworker M with me it will be ok.

Then Coworker M cancels.

So I have a decision- go to NOLA on my own or stay in Birmingham. Which one is the interesting choice, dear tumblrs?

I cash in my hotel points for a room Saturday night at one hotel and a room Sunday at another. I check with Coworker A. He’s at different hotels both nights as well, but not the same one as me. I suggest to him that we carpool and split costs. You would have thought I asked him to marry me to a toad. He mumbled something about seeing some old haunts and I blew it off as nothing personal. It was about this time that I started to wonder about Coworker A. He didn’t have friends in NOLA. Was he gay? I didn’t get that vibe. Maybe he wanted to pick up girls?

So Saturday comes and Coworker A and I make plans to hang out on Sunday night. We check in with each other on the drive down. I check into my hotel, get changed, and head out in search of food and sites. I stop at a restaurant just off of Bourbon Street (thought I hadn’t reached Bourbon Street yet) and sit at the bar. I had dinner and a couple of cocktails. At this point I’m wondering why I made such a silly decision? Who comes to a party town on their own? Besides Coworker A?

I have always believed that the biggest cure for insecurity is liquor. So I figured I just needed more booze. I walk out of the restaurant and stumble, literally, upon Bourbon Street. I immediately get myself a daquiri and stroll through the crowd of people. Most people were there for Essence Fest. It was quite the scene. I stopped in a few bars and hung out with this group of black men for awhile. They started to creep me out so I bailed on them and hung out in a park with a jazz band playing. I had a hurricane. I stroll out of the park and back onto Bourbon Street and get a text from Coworker A. He wants to know what I’m up to. I tell him. He tells me he’s heading to where I am. I assume this means we’re going to meet up for drinks. He’s very drunk (he says). Of course, at this point so am I.

He tells me he’s going to catch a cab, so I go and catch myself a fishbowl full of hurricanes. I park myself and my fishbowl on the corner and wait for him. He shows up a little while later and he looks like shit. FYI, it was hot as balls in NOLA this weekend. Coworker A was covered in sweat. He needed a drink. We headed back to the fishbowl stand and were just chatting about the city while we waited in line. But the line wasn’t going anywhere. So we leave and head down an alleyway looking for a bar. We find one pretty quickly and duck inside. It’s mostly empty, just a small bar on a side street. It’s playing country music and has a table of drunk girls and a security guard in addition to the bartender. Coworker A heads to the bathroom to clean himself up and I order us two more hurricanes.

The great thing about an empty bar is that you can have a conversation. So we did. I’m not sure exactly how it transpired, but Coworker A told me about the married woman in Chicago he’s got a thing for. I told him about my open marriage. Then he told me about his sex life- and the 67 women he’s previously fucked!

Finally! Coworker A’s secret! I knew he had one. He’s a closet manwhore.

You know what happens when you’re drunk and you make a connection with someone? It’s like your flood gates open. Out came my secrets. Molly Cupcake. Superman. The Dozen Bad Dates. My life mantra.

We went outside so Coworker A could have a smoke. I bummed one as well. As the cigarettes turned to ash, Coworker A stopped me from telling stories. He told me that he was getting excited. He told me that he wanted me to suck his cock. I said I could probably be persuaded. That it probably wouldn’t take much. He asked what my hold up was. I said that he’s my coworker.

Coworker A is smart. He saw me waffling. He saw the hesistation. You know what he pulled out next?

“Fucking me would be the interesting choice.”

That was it, wasn’t it? The only thing he could say that I couldn’t refute. So we grabbed the fishbowl from the bar and headed off to my hotel. On the way he told me that he likes things dirty. He likes dirty talk. He told me some of his hottest sexual experiences. We got in the building and the moment the elevator doors closed he was on me. Kissing me. Lifting my dress.

We make it into the apartment and we’re making out hardcore. He’s grinding on me. We’re kissing. I’m unbuttoning his shirt. Once our clothes come off I push him toward the couch and tell him that I have to suck his cock now.

And I do. By god do I! He was a great size- not too long or too wide that I couldn’t give him a great blow job, but long enough and wide enough to be impressive. He immediately started talking dirty to me. That’s magic for Ms. Molly. I was so wet it was running down my thighs. I had to fuck him. So he laid down on the couch and I climbed on top of him and started riding him hard. He’s pulling on my nipples and kissing me in between telling me what a slut I am.

I want to switch positions so we move into the bedroom. We keep fucking and he keeps up the dirty talk.

“You love being fucked, slut.”

“I’m going to use that slutty pussy.”

“You want a cock in every hole, don’t you? You want a big group of guys to fucking use you, don’t you? I’m going to watch them cover you in cum.”

I was out of my mind with lust. I go back to sucking his cock and deep throating him. Then he starts fucking my face. Things only got dirtier from there with the talk and the sex until finally, almost two hours later, with the sun coming up through the open windows, he cums all over my face and glasses.

Ten minutes later after making solemn vows to never tell any of our coworkers this happened, he left and I passed out.

The next evening started similar to the first- dinner followed by me drinking alone. This time I ended up at a bar at the end of Bourbon Street (one recommended by you dear followers- Lafittes).

I was having a great time chatting with the bartenders and this group of girls from Philly. I was drinking hurricanes and doing shots. We were singing to the jukebox at the top of our lungs. I get a txt from Coworker A that he’s hooking up with this girl he met, so I decide to leave and see if I could find someone of my own. I’m really drunk though. Much more drunk than I was on Saturday. I start drunk texting people, including Brooklyn Dave and Superman. I find myself at the corner of Bourbon and St. Ann and decide to sit on a stoop and people watch. This was recommended by another follower! It was a great recommendation- it was the best corner ever.

Along strolls by a gentleman, who strikes up a conversation with me. He’s from California, but is in town for work. He sits by me and people watches and we start talking. Fifteen minutes in he stumbles and braces himself by putting his hand on my knee (I was wearing another dress). Five minutes later we were making out on the street corner, with lots of groping and feeling. His hand was up my dress and under my panties stroking my clit. I was rubbing his hard cock through his jeans.

I asked him if we could go back to my hotel. But he wanted to go to his instead. I asked him where it was, and it was somewhere uptown that I had never heard of. I didn’t want to go somewhere I wasn’t familiar with a stranger. He said he understood and we started walking back toward the main street. We stopped to make out some more and we drifted into a side street/ alley.

He pushed me up against a brick wall and he was licking and sucking on my neck. His hands were rubbing my breasts and his cock was pressed up against me. I told him how much I wanted to fuck him.

He turned me around so that my face was to the cool brick and lifted up my dress. He slid my panties down and I stepped out of them. He unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and fucked me from behind. I braced myself with my hands on the brick and he reached around to rub my clit. I couldn’t take it and came on his cock before he came all over my ass.

We didn’t have any way to clean up, so he kissed me and got me a cab back to my hotel. We said goodbye, he paid the driver, and kept my panties. I felt the cum on my ass the entire way home.

I left NOLA this morning. I had made plans to meet up with Mr. Big outside Meridian. I overslept and missed his text so by the time we got connected he had made other plans. So I missed out on his 10 inches and my hat trick.

Maybe there will be a next time? Will Coworker A make another appearance? Stay tuned.

-=C&C=-