Driving down to Newport Beach from Beach Blender‘s place, I down as much water and Ibuprofen as I can (careful not to accidentally take the ecstasy I have stashed in the same bottle) in efforts to derail the effects of my current hangover. After shaming myself into not calling off the girly birthday brunch with Cookies and Cocoa, I put on a clean sundress and fresh pair of panties as a means to metaphorically cleanse myself of all the debauchery in which I engaged the night prior. Yes, I had a clean outfit somewhere in my trunk and, yes, I always keep an extra pair of panties in my purse when I go out, precisely for moments like these. You never know when someone is going to SNATCH them off you or when you’re accidentally going to vomit over them when you’re sitting on the toilet and peeing, not that I would know from personal experience…I just know personally that this does in fact happen sometimes. True story.
Arriving at Cocoa’s in Newport Beach, I realize this is the first time I’m seeing her since her wedding four months ago. She’s now four months pregnant. Yeah, talk about not wasting any time. Beaming and glowing in her tight, form-fitting sundress, Cocoa comes over and gives me a big mama-bear hug, exclaiming, “Happy birthday!!!!!! BITCH, IT’S A BOY!!!” Of COURSE she’s having a boy. Thank GOD she’s having a boy. Cocoa used to be a call girl in Los Angeles before she met and married the man who once bought her and eventually took her out of the business. God HELP HER if she were to have a girl. To say that Cocoa and her husband are insatiable, nonsensical nymphomaniacs would be an extreme understatement. At least now, Cocoa has dick in her 24/7, which she always did/does love.
To my surprise, Cocoa and Cookies have the whole day planned with all of the details completely concealed from my awareness. I’m a sucker for surprises, but not like SURPRISE I actually put roofies in your drink and you won’t remember all the filthy illegal shit I do to you (!), rather SURPRISE we know and love you so well that we’re gonna put in the time, effort, and energy to do some LEGAL and WONDERFUL shit for you! YAY! Although I am definitely a fan of filthy and illegal, as long as I can remember it. The three of us pile into Cocoa’s silver, convertible Mercedes, the two of them toting along gigantic shopping bags, the contents to which I am oblivious. We then head down Newport Coast Drive with the wind blowing in our hair while discussing details of my crazy, almost-one-night-stand, eventually entering a resort-style driveway, loaded and laden with palm trees along the sides and wide and winding for the next half mile, the ocean visible and far off to our right. These bougie Orange County bitches, man…they sure aim to please. And please they do; I am astounded and awed as I gaze over and take in all that surrounds my field of view at the Pelican Hill Spa and Resort.
Taking our seats, the three of us grab hands and giggle, as nothing is more exciting and heart-warming in this moment than finally sitting down together for a bitch-and-brunch on this fine Sunday afternoon. I could not ask for a more touching birthday present.
At this point, for the past couple of weeks, Mr. Hollywood and I had been playing this consensually sexualized cat-and-mouse game, teasing and taunting one another with descriptions of how, what, and where we would do this, that, and the other to one another, leaving me confused and craving him even more than before.
Me: *hoping to gain advice from my fellow females* Guys, it’s weird. He’s a billionaire. I have no idea how to navigate around this or even how to go about it. I’m this young, broke bitch from Hollywood who’s used to dating musicians, actors, and camera men! This is completely new territory for me! He somehow has all the control and I HAAAAATE it! *pouting and shoving a piece of lettuce and walnut in my mouth*
Cocoa: *lowering her voice and continuing to frivolously and frantically eat her salad* OK this is what you gotta do to get him wrapped around your finger… *twirling her fork around and pointing it at me*
Me: *intrigued and all ears* Yeah…..?
Cocoa: Yoooooou, my pretty, are gonna have to get super dominating filthy with him. *Lowering her voice to a slow and sensual sounding rasp* Like describe to him how you’re gonna get a girl and how the both of you are gonna suck his cock together…like, “Oooh yeah baby I’m gonna lick her tongue while the both of us lick your dick I bet you’d like that huh, Daddy” *now demonstrating on her straw with her tongue and her finger how this would look*
Me: *appalled and somehow surprised at how much dirtier Cocoa is than me* OH MY GOD COCOA NOOOOOOOO!!!! *laughing and covering my mouth while I blush* I could never say that! Plus, I’m totally not into threesomes anymore man and I DEFINITELY don’t wanna fuck him with another girl!
Cocoa: *raising her hands in surrender* OK, OK…then.. *lowering her voice to that sexy raspy sound* you can just talk about putting that other girl in the closet NAKED while you sit there and lick his cock up and down. Like, “Oh yeah baby that OTHER GIRL…in the CLOSET(?!), oh yeah she’s all wet and ready but I’m not gonna let her out, I’m just gonna lick and suck your dick while she’s in there. Then I’m gonna let her out and play with her myself while you play with your dick over here in the corner!”
Me and Cookies: *laughing uncontrollably and blushing at how raunchy our conversation is getting* JESUS COCOA!!!! STOP IT!!!!
Cocoa: *putting up her finger to shut us the fuck up and reprimanding* Listen bitches, this is what rich guys want, OK? TRUST ME. You need to take full control IN the bed because they have all of the control OUT of the bed. Like me? I tell him, “You better do as I say and DON’T. SAY. NO TO ME!” *her finger up and shaming an imaginary person to the side*
Me and Cookies: *continuing to burst out laughing* Hahaha! *mimicking Cocoa* DON’T SAY NO TO ME!!!!!!! *grabbing our stomachs in laughter as Cocoa giggles along and lovingly pets her own*
I have to give it to her; she has a point. In bed, there’s no such thing as richer, classier, smarter, or BETTER. Both individuals are naked, vulnerable, exposed. Bare, raw flesh against flesh and nothing more. Her argument makes sense. FUCK she landed herself one of these men, SEVERAL of these men, at that. Cocoa definitely knows her shit in this department. Thanking her for her advice, we move on to the opening of my presents. YIPPEE!!!!
Cookies excitedly hands over her brown shopping bag, exclaiming that, “I know you’ve been wanting this babyyy!!!” Grinning from ear to ear and tearing away at the bag, I pull out a long…hot pink…super squishy and cylindrical YOGA MAT (I bet you guys thought I was gonna say DILDO! Dirty, dirty readers!)! Ahh, YAY! I have definitely been wanting one of these! I hug Cookies and tell her how grateful I am to have her know me so well.
Next is Cocoa’s gift. I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared…yet strangely aroused. She prefaces its opening with an explanation that she demands I use her gift as inspiration to stop fucking around with my fear of failure and write a book already. Slyly grinning and internally guessing, I watch Cocoa as she bites her lower lip and hands me her shopping bag. Reaching in, I close my eyes and shake my head, almost close to tears as I pull out its contents: Fifty Shades of Grey. Of course, I already know minor tidbits about the book, primarily the fact that it’s the latest, hottest, closest thing to a socially accepted pornographic novel. Clutching it to my chest, I thank Cocoa and tell her, as well, that I cannot explain in words how much I appreciate her gift.
Secretly, I’m beaming with delight at the fact that I had just manifested from the Universe two things I desperately wanted for free. Unsecretly, I’m uncontrollably grinning with gratitude at the fact that I’m so blessed to be seated with the one thing that billions of dollars cannot buy me on my birthday: people who genuinely know and love me.
Now, off to go do yoga and get horny so I’m flexible and wet with fury when I finally fuck that billionaire.