Birthday with Val – pt. 2

I’m tired and thinking we’re going to go home when Val pulls up to a building. Looking in from the window it looks like one of those bath and body spots. I’m thinking Val is going to run inside quick and pick up some smell goods and come back out. I look at the sign and it’s a spa. Val is standing outside motioning for me to get out. I’m thinking what the hell? I go in and she’s talking to some chick at the counter. My mind is in some sleep deprived hazed and I’m only listening to bits and pieces of the conversation. One of the chicks asks me what size shoe I wear. Huh? I have to think about it for a second and finally tell her that I wear a size 13. She asks Val for her size but apparently my baby either has big feet or her size was kind of popular so they have to hunt it down. I’m presented with a pair of plastic flip flops. Val says happy birthday before we’re led through a door and down a hallway.

We’re taken to a locker room and the woman is trying to explain the digital locks on the locker. I’m usually good at hiding my true emotions through my facial expressions but apparently my face betrayed me. I was looking like one of those Mexican chicks that shave their eyebrows and then redraw them pencil thin. For you short bus people, that means I was looking extremely confused. Val then notified me that I was getting a massage and a pedicure and surprise, this was my birthday present. Once it finally sunk in what was about to happen my stomach felt bubbly and I felt sick. I was more than a bit nervous and uncomfortable, partially because I was unprepared but through sheer force of will and some controlled breathing I managed to squash the rebellion my body was planning. Of course by then I forgot the directions and had to retrieve Val from the lounge to help me. She got me situated with the locker.

There was another problem though. I had no idea what if anything I was supposed to wear under the robe they provided. The thought of walking around the spa pretty much naked made me kind of sick again. I’ve had the pleasure of having more than a few girlfriends/lovers who seem to have an allergy or aversion to wearing clothes when they don’t have to. I’m not one of those people. I feel vulnerable when I’m naked and I don’t like feeling vulnerable…ever! I’m only naked when I bathe, change clothes, or have sex other than that I prefer having something on. I’ve had girlfriends try to get me to sleep in the nude but sleeping naked feels alien, weird, and unnatural to me. I don’t want to do it and I can’t do it. Val told me to keep my boxers on. Glad I didn’t decide to wear those little Hello Kitty panties. I kid you sick bastards. Later I found out they were optional. You’d think someone would tell people little things like that especially if they know it’s your first time and that you have no clue but whatever.

I looked around the little locker room and realized I didn’t even know what some of the items in the room were for. I felt out of my element and was embarrassed because of my ignorance. I don’t respect stupidity. I never have and never will. Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling very intelligent and knowledgeable at the moment. I told Val that I hated surprises. Specifically, I hate when people tell me they have something to tell me or for me but I have to wait until some arbitrary moment before they can tell me or give me my surprise. If that’s the case then I’m of the belief that you shouldn’t even mention anything to me until you’re ready to tell me or give it to me immediately. Besides the reveal almost never lives up to the hype and I end up disappointed. Of course, I don’t tell the bearer of the surprise that it sucks but part of me is thinking it. Val wanted to tell me but because of my aversion to surprises she didn’t. I eventually got myself situated and my mind right enough so that I could put on one of the masks I present to the world and made my way out to the lounge. I haven’t worn flip flops since I was a kid. As far as I’m concerned there is no reason a grown man should ever be seen in flip flops in public not to mention those bitches were not all that comfortable and fugly as hell to boot.

The lounge was nice. Relaxing music was playing in the background, there was a fire place with a fire going, and it was dimly lit. The lounge was full of over sized, comfortable chairs. We didn’t get a lot of time to chill out on them because someone came in and took Val away. Later I’d find out that there was a massage room for couples and that was what Val had originally wanted for us. Maybe next time. A couple of minutes later someone came in for me. I took off my robe, got under the blanket, and laid face down on the massage table as I was instructed. My masseuse came back in and asked me a bunch of questions I didn’t know the answers to. That stupid feeling was creeping back. I was also a little disappointed that she wasn’t an Asian chick named Ming-Li but her voice was pleasant enough. She kind of had a husky, throaty Martha Stewart like tone to her voice. Did I mention that I’m really attracted to voices and I have a fantasy of phone boning and being dominated by Martha Stewart dressed in a shiny catsuit. Well, if you didn’t know then now you do. I was praying that I wouldn’t grow any wood during the massage.

I told her it was my first time. Not Ming-Li told me that she was going to be performing a Swedish massage and if at any time I was uncomfortable to tell her. The massage was okay. I got through it without feeling uncomfortable. She was pretty gentle and that was the only thing wrong with it. I’m not a frail or little guy so I would’ve preferred more pressure. Put your weight on it. You won’t hurt me and even if you did I like a little pain. I almost drooled all over the floor when she massaged my hands. I had a girlfriend do that once while playing around giving my a massage. I’ll be damned if I wasn’t Tony the tiger because that shit felt gggggreaaaat! I liked the shoulder massage too. She noted that my shoulders were very tense and suggested an exercise I could do in a doorway to loosen them up a bit in the future. Not Ming-Li asked me if I wanted a happy ending for only $30 extra. Is Father Flanigan’s favorite instrument the skin flute? Hell yeah! She then asked if I wanted my happy ending brought about by her hands or her mouth. Darling, that’s a classic case of false dichotomy. Surely you have some flavored massage oils. I’m not the Burger King but it is my birthday and I want things my way. So hook me up with some of that erk and jerk followed up with a side of slob and bob and let’s end it with me using your uvula as target practice. Okay? Well, that didn’t happen because she wasn’t Ming-Li. Ming-Li would’ve begged for a liquid Freaky throat injection and I’ve always had a weakness for a chick with my dick in her mouth.

After the massage was over I went back to the lounge and Val was already there waiting. The masseuse suggested that I drink some water and recommended that I drink lots of water after a massage. I should’ve asked her why because I’m a bit curious now but I didn’t so oh well. We didn’t get to chill in the lounge for too long because within a couple of minutes we were whisked off to the back of spa where the pedicure area was. Now I’ve heard horror stories of how painful some pedicures are so I was a bit apprehensive. I reclined the chair, turned on the heat and massage, and let my feet soak. I don’t know what was in that water but it smelled damned nice and the jets were playing blissful havoc with my feet and toes. I had a little white chick doing my toes. She asked me where I was from so I wrapped my hand around my brick, raised it in the air, and screamed, “Detroit born, Detroit bred, and when I die I’ll be Detroit dead!” She raised her brick up in the air and screamed, “Detroit what?! 313 in the house, bitches!” We then clapped bricks together and while Val and the woman doing her pedicure stared at us (probably in abject terror) we broke out into a “Deeeee-troit basket-ball” chant. Fuck the Cavs and double fuck the Heat, Detroit is winning the Eastern conference this year and you heard it hear first. That didn’t happen but you honestly don’t know how close that came to being true. Of course that stuff I said about the Cavs and the Heat is the absolute truth though. The white chick was cute but she had an aura about her. What aura you ask? She looked like she was batting for the home team but she wasn’t all furry, beastly, and quasi-masculine looking like a lot of her brethren. If she didn’t have Sapphic tendencies I’d hit and wouldn’t be worried about her dick being bigger than mine. What? I’m just saying!

My feet were scraped, scrubbed, and generally taken care of. The only thing that could’ve made it better was if I got a foot massage before getting my toes sucked on. Oh yeah, Freaky likes to get his toes sucked. Not as much as I like getting my dick sucked but there’s something about the visual of a chick lovingly holding my foot while sucking on my little piggies that’s erotic. Only bad thing is my arms aren’t long enough to reach a woman’s head to pull it down on my feet while she’s sucking my toes. All in all it wasn’t the least bit painful. I wouldn’t be opposed to getting more pedicures in the future. Val was talking some foolishness about having my toe nails painted candy apple red or black. Oh great so I can’t look like a transitioning drag queen or an emo kid 15 years past his prime. Um, I’ll pass. I did get a clear coat though. While the chick was painting my nails I thought about all of the foot freaks my friend Lady J attracts. Feet aren’t one of my perversions or fetishes. Well assuming you don’t count the foot job I’ve been dying for, the fact that I’ve always wanted to toe fuck a chick, or the desire to lotion a chick’s feet with my special love lotion. Maybe there is a little foot freak in me after all but just a little. I managed to not slip, fall, and bust my ass getting out of the chair and making my way to the dryer. After that I filled out a survey, headed back into the locker room, and chilled out in the steam room for a few minutes. It would’ve been nice to be able to have a little more time in the steam room but we had to be going.

Eventually, we got home and I got relax. I wanted to take a nap but the sandman wasn’t trying to visit me. Well, fuck him! Eventually, I did manage to get some sleep. I had a dream about fish. I think I’m the second person she knows that dreamt about fish that weekend. She may need to bath in spermicide and double up on the birth control or something. I dream that I had a huge fish tank full of something that looked like Angelfish or Clownfish. Whenever I approached the aquarium the fish would go crazy and begin jumping. One jumped out of the tank and onto the floor. I was afraid to touch it because one it was a nasty fish and two in order to pick it up and throw it back in the tank I’d have to approach the aquarium. If I did the fish would go crazy and try to jump out at me again. Eventually, I found a net picked the fish up, dumped it back in, and stepped back before any of the fish could jump out again.

Early Saturday was spent just lounging around. We started the day pretty much watching cartoons and some college football. Val put some burgers on the grill. The plan for today was to go to the gun range. I originally half joked about going and she liked the idea. She was pretty excited about it because she had never fired a gun before. I had previously fired a .38 and a shotgun. We get to the gun range and take a gun safety test. The chick behind the counter said it would only take about five minutes. The sign behind the counter said it would take about a half hour. Um let’s just say it took longer than thirty minutes even though it was open book and we could help each other. Some of the diagrams weren’t well drawn or photocopied so it was hard to tell what part of the gun was being pointed to. The guy who was supposed to be scoring it was taking way too fucking long going over it with some people that finished before us. Fortunately, someone else scored our tests. I think I ended up getting three wrong. I expected one or two so I was a little disappointed at the additional error. The guy behind the counter told me that I did better on the test than a cop who was in our group. Since Val and I had pretty much similar answers we both scored better than a cop. That’s pretty damn sad.

Since Val never shot a gun before the chick behind the counter suggest she use a glock. I chose a Beretta. I wanted an uzi but of course I didn’t see one. The guy mentioned that they had one with a laser sight on it so of course, I had to get that. Later my jaw almost dropped and the drool start to form when I saw a guy rent a Bushmaster rifle. I’m going to have to play with it myself one of these days. By the time we finished the test and got the guns it was getting kind of late. We got a box of bullets, our targets, our ear and eye protection, and went to our booth on the range. Loading the clip wasn’t as easy as dude led me to believe. After about the seventh bullet it was a struggle to get the last three bullets in my clip. I won’t even lie, I gave up and had Val do it after she was finished. I let her go first. The people with the rifle were in the next booth over and shell casings were flying out everywhere. Val got hit with a couple of them and I stepped into an empty booth to avoid them. What? I thought my aim would be better since I had the laser sight but the thought of those shells hitting me in the face threw me off my game. I did manage to get a head shot and I was less than a two centimeters from getting a shot in the center circle. I also managed to hit my target in the right lung. The return kept acting up wouldn’t send the target back so instead of continuing taking turns as were, we decided to just use my target. Well, let’s just say if our target was a person we’d light his left side up. Most of our shots landed in the bottom left quadrant. If we didn’t shred his bladder, stomach, and intestines he’d likely bleed to death or die of lead poisoning from us. Now if homeboy turned to the right then we’d be hard pressed to hit him and would be in some serious trouble.

A gun range is supposed to be opening up soon in my city. I’m definitely going to join when they do. Val loved the experience and has said she’ll be going back. I can’t let her get in all that practice and show me up the next time I’m in Parts Unknown or she’s here. I have a lot of respect for sharpshooters now. That shit is difficult. I want to master the head shot because after all if I ever were to shoot someone I want to insure that I never have to worry about them retaliating against me or mine. Taking a little off the top does just that.

To be continued…again.

Author: Freaky Deaky I'm a horny, opinionated, smart-ass, antisocial, introverted, misanthropic, agnostic, nonconformist, free thinking, hedonistic, highly intelligent, and arrogant black man with a dirty mind.