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Blood and the Clover Grill

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Apr. 23rd, 2014 | 02:18 am

Blood and the Clover Grill (by Darrick Patrick)

This next one is a bit raw.  I was with my mother at the Clover Grill in New Orleans, which is a small 24/7 restaurant in the French Quarter on Bourbon Street.  It was late at night, probably around 3:00 am.  It had been one of those crazy nights bouncing all through the Quarter at different bars and clubs.  This was around 1996 or 1997, so I was sixteen or seventeen years old.

As we were eating, a lady came walking by the window in fairly see-through panties with a matching pink lingerie top.  She had a short pixie cut that was bleached a blondish-white.  Tattoos adorned her body and she was very pretty with a couple facial piercings.  She noticed my mom, pressed herself up against the window, and screamed, "Rita!"  That's when I noticed her crotch, thighs, and lower belly covered in blood.

She made her way into Clover Grill and came over to where we were sitting.  My mother asked her what was up with the blood and she began telling us about her evening.  She had met some tourist dude who was into metal chicks, had him sport her up all night, went back to his hotel, and then she got him naked.  While riding him, she sat all of her weight back and tore the guy's penis.  That's where the blood came from.  She was laughing about how she "just broke some guy's dick and killed him".

Then, she started asking who I was.  My mom told her that I was her son.  She began going on about how cute I was.  That's when she started saying, "Rita, is it cool if I fuck your son?  He's really hot.  If you don't care, I'd love to break him in.  Do you want to fuck my pussy, little man?  Can you make me cum?"  You know, nice stuff like that.

My mother being who she was, just told the bloody female that I was a big boy and I can make my own decisions.  Then, Rita leaned over and whispered in my ear, "She has AIDS, boy.  I know some of that is her blood.  You better watch yourself."  I was then left of my own accord to fend off this scary chick trying to convince me I'm old enough to pleasure her orifices.  That's how my mother did a lot of times though when I got to a certain age.  Made me take care of the creeps around me myself.  Hardcore lessons, but valuable in the end and has served me well.

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Older story involving my mother Rita Patrick (R.I.P.)

For the growing list: http://darrickpatrick.livejournal.com/120723.html

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