I didn't think there could be an instance where I was furious with my Puddin', but we've finally gotten there. I am SO angry I'm practically shaking. We'd had such a nice time and he had to ruin it by being an asshole. I can't even believe he would …

If I don't write down what happened instead of just my emotions, I'm not going to sort through everything the way I can when I journal my normal way. So, here's what happened.

We were at the Smile and Grin again. J saw me watching one of the dancers and sent Jonny to bring her over. I didn't expect my first experience with a woman would happen in a private corner of a strip club, but that's just how it worked out. Her fingers buried in my hair, my mouth tasting her delicious pussy, my daddy buried in my cunt. Every thrust of his sent my tongue pressing harder against her and our moans matched each other in a perfect chorus. I didn't know Jonny and Frankie stood guard on the other side of the gold bead curtain to make sure no one dared get too close and think they could get a show. Normally J and I wouldn't care, but I think the boys figured I would want a little privacy. Actually, since it was Jonny that first went over there, I'm pretty sure he just wanted to protect me.

The girl and I switched positions after J came in me. I wanted her to eat his cum out of me, and I wanted to watch my daddy working his magic. I know how it feels, but I wanna see it for myself.

Before her tongue touched my folds, I reached inside myself and pulled out a mixture of our fluids, licking my fingers before wiping them down her chest towards J. Instead of lying in front of her, I'd sat on her face. J and I kissed over her body, both of us riding her. There was no way anyone in the club didn't know what was going on, even if they couldn't be positive of who it was in the VIP room.

Watching him from my position was just phenomenal. I got to see the way his hips move, the flashing of his cock as it slid in and out of her wonderful pussy, the burning of his eyes on mine as he fucked this other woman. I think I'm polysexual, but not polyromantic. I couldn't have actual relationships with people other than Puddin', but fucking them with my daddy? Yes fucking please.

He was exhausted when we got home. But I was wired. I was riding the high of my first threesome and he was ready for bed. I admit, I may have gotten a bit annoying.

"Puddin' talk to me." I bounced on the bed next to him. I was sitting up, but he was lying down trying to sleep.

"Ugghhhhh."

"Thaaat's not words. C'mon, I wanna talk about the girl! What was her name? She was so much fun, Daddy."

"Shhhhh."

"I didn't think pussy would taste like that. Does it always taste like that? But you said I tasted like pumpkin pie. Or was that just you being sexy?"

"Harley," he snapped with a growl.

"Do you think she'd come home with us one night? Is it a job requirement to sleep with the boss? Oh shit … did she wanna do that or did we just rape her?" She didn't seem to mind. Didn't pull away when Jonny had told her what we wanted. I'd watched him go over to her, watched the smile on her lips and the nod she gave before following him back to us. "Eh, whatever."

"You need to stop talking."

"I can't! I have too much energy. It was soooo fun. I've got this sex high. Watching you with her was so awesome."

"Shut. Up."

"I told you, I can't." I bounced on the bed again.

"Then get out."

"But I wanna be with you."

"I need sleep."

"But if you're sleeping, you're not with me!" I started poking at him, trying to get him to get up and interact with me.

"Stop it." he ordered.

"Aw, come on, Puddin'. Talk to me." I kept up my poking.

With a growl he whipped over and into a seated position, then he was shoving me off the bed with more force than he'd ever used with me before. I hit my head on the wall and saw stars.

"Go sleep in your room!" he roared.

I slowly came to myself and looked up at him, "My … what?"

"Get out and go sleep in your room."

I slowly stood and he barked, "Now!"

With a yelp I rushed out of our bedroom. His bedroom? Just what did he think was going on here? That he allowed me to sleep in his bed? I'd thought we slept together in our bed...

I started to cry as I made my way to the second bedroom. My bedroom? He'd never called it my bedroom before. Why would he kick me out? I miss Daddy, the little girl wept in my head.

Walking into the second bedroom felt like walking into hell. I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to be curled up with my love. Should have just shut up, Harleen.

I started to weep when I realized what I'd called myself. After lying on the bed for a long while, just crying to myself, I started to get mad. How dare he?

He calls me his queen then kicks me out the second I don't do what he wants? Fine, if he wants me out, out I go.

I first put together a bag of a few items I'd need then I grabbed a bunch of pillows and set them up under the sheets to make it look like I was sleeping. Let him think that I'm being a brat and spending the day in bed. It's what he deserves.

And then I left. I walked into the elevator and went down to the garage. I grabbed the keys for the Quinnmobile and sent a text to Frankie before driving into the underground streets. "u up?"

"yeah. whatchu need?"

I tapped on the cell while I drove, deciding to take the first exit I found since I had no idea where they all led. "can I come over?"

He sent his address and I drove like a madwoman. Because I was a mad woman. When I finally got to his place I parked on the curb and hit the buzzer. Instead of buzzing me in, he opened the door from the inside, "You ok, Harley?"

"Not even a little." I huffed. He took my bag and led me up the stairs to his place.

"What's goin' on?"

"Mistah J kicked me out."

"WHAT?!" I wasn't expecting such a huge response. After all, Puddin' and I have only known each other a few weeks.

"Not like that. He just … sent me to my room."

"What does that mean?"

"He got pissed and shoved me into a wall and told me to 'go sleep in my room.' I figured he meant the room where my clothes are. But if wants to kick me out, then fine. I'll get out."

"So, he expects you to be there tomorrow morning?"

"Are you gonna make me leave?" After all, Frankie is J's guy. His loyalty is with J. But Frankie shook his head and just held out his arms. I sunk into them, feeling comforted and safe.

"I was just watching some TV, wanna join me?"

I nodded and followed him further into his apartment, which was pretty nice. Nothing like the Penthouse, but far better than the hole in the wall I'd lived in a month ago. "You got any booze?"

He made me a giant white Russian and we sat on the couch together.

"Do pussies taste different?" I took a big swig of the drink he'd made. It was fucking delicious. I didn't know exactly how he made it but damn, I'm having him make me these more often.

"Yeah, they do. Why?"

"Just curious. I didn't know if that was how they all tasted or if it was different with different girls. Puddin' said I tasted like pumpkin pie."

"I've never tasted food when down there. Just pussy." he laughed.

"Yeah, I thought he was just talkin' shit. But it was sexy at the time. ... Our first time." I thought of my office back in Arkham and the way he'd touched me when we were there together.

Frankie didn't pry. I could tell he wanted to know more about what had happened between me and Mistah J, but I didn't know if I wanted to talk about it. Instead we talked about TV and movies and sex. I may or may not have still been feeling the sex high from earlier, and he was really easy to talk to. Before I knew it, my drink was gone and I was feeling good. "That was amazing, how did you make that?"

"Caramel vodka, French vanilla Kahlua, chocolate cherry Baileys, and a dash of milk."

I started laughing, "So basically all liquor."

"Of course." he took my cup, "Want another?"

"Look at the size of that cup! Just how drunk do you want me to get?"

He chuckled, "That's up to you, Harley."

"Then I want another."

He fixed me a second drink and we went back to talking about sex, "No, it's true. I honestly thought I was asexual."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Eh, you didn't know me back then. I was so uptight." I waved a hand. "I don't know why, I just never enjoyed it. I mean, I felt things. Just not enough to make me want it again, you know?"

He shook his head, "Not in the slightest."

I cracked up at that, "It probably stemmed from all the sex I had in high school just trying to find someone to love me. I never did it cuz I wanted it; it was all traded for love. Love I never really got. So, my body just went 'Ah, fuck you. If you don't want it, you don't enjoy it.'"

"I don't think it works that way."

"It can. The brain is a very funny and fickle thing. Why do you think there are so many different mental disorders and so many varying symptoms within those mental disorders? It really is quite fascinitating when you delve into it."

Frankie burst out laughing, much to my confusion. "What?"

"Fascinitating."

"Fascina-shing. … Fanance-ating. ... Fas-or-nation. … It's cool, ok?"

Frankie just continued to laugh so I kept drinking with a shrug. "I know what I mean."

"I know what you mean too, Harley, I do." he chuckled, wiping at his eyes.

There was something really smooth about the white Russian he'd mixed up, so I was able to drink it fast. The flashiness of the ad on TV caught my eye and I found my attention wandering. We just watched for a little bit, quiet, until I asked, "What's your number?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your sex number. Partners. I think I'm at like … 29?"

"Higher than that."

"Aw, come on, tell me."

"Probably in the fifties?"

"That's not bad. I thought it would be much higher."

He snorted, "Just how much of a man whore do you think I am?"

"No, I mean ... you're gorgeous. You've probably got men and women coming up to you all the time."

He laughed, "Thank you?"

"Hey Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

I put down my empty cup and climbed onto his lap, one knee on either side of his legs, "Wanna help me reach 30?"

"Harley, you're really drunk..."

"Correct."

"J doesn't know you're gone."

I pulled off my shirt and tossed it behind me, "Correct."

"We shouldn't do this. It's not right."

I put my hands on either side of his face and got very serious, "I fuck where I want, when I want, and who I want. That's how he made me. That's who I am. That's how I like it."

His eyes looked back and forth between mine and finally, I felt his hands on my back. I crushed his mouth with mine, dancing my tongue against his. His thick fingers nimbly undid my bra and he pulled it off me, tossing it onto the floor. He stood up from the couch, one hand massaging my ass and the other wrapped around me so I wouldn't fall. And then he carried me to his bedroom, where he dropped on top of me on the bed, still kissing me with reckless abandon. I pulled at his shirt and he moved off me enough that I could get it off him completely. He stood up and pulled off my pants and underwear in one move before climbing atop me again. Middle finger in his mouth and then between my lower lips, rubbing against my clit gently. His mouth descended onto my nipple, sucking and licking and even taking a nibble or two. I moaned loudly, loving the tiny bits of pain he was giving me. His finger entered me, curling up to hit my g-spot and I instinctively grabbed onto his arm. He responded by biting down on my nipple and I shrieked my first orgasm. He kept working his finger on my g-spot but broke away from my nipple to claim my mouth in a rough kiss. I moaned into his lips when I came again.

When he pulled out I sat up, grabbing at his pants, "Take these off. I wanna suck on your cock."

"Only if I get to taste you too."

Within seconds he was fully naked and had me on top of him in a sixty-nine position. He buried his face in my pussy and I could barely get him in my mouth. He's definitely bigger than J, not just in length but in girth and that's where I struggled. But I'm a fucking trooper and I figured it out goddammit. Because that's the kind of girl I am.

I used my hand as well as my mouth, my screaming muffled by his cock whenever I came. I saw the biggest grin on his face when I climbed off him.

"I've never been with a squirter before."

"Oh … you're welcome?"

"Fuck yes." He grabbed me and spun me upright so I faced him, then he rummaged around in his nightstand and came back with a condom. After getting it on quickly, he slid between my legs and positioned himself. When he started to enter me I cried out, "Jesus, fuck!"

"You ok?"

"It's so big."

"You ok?"

"More. I want the pain." I didn't have to ask a second time, he thrust himself into me and shuddered when I clenched around him, cumming I don't know how long. He waited a second for me to adjust but I didn't care about that. I started moving my hips against him, sliding him in and out of me. He moaned and caught himself from falling atop me again.

He knew what I wanted and started fucking me heartily. Legs lifted up into the air so my cunt aimed up at him, burying himself to the hilt because he knew it would hurt me and that's what I'd asked for. His thrusts were fast, wild. He pounded me until I cried from the bliss. Literal tears streamed from my eyes and I wept as if my heart were broken. But it was joy. It was intense pleasure that blinded out everything else. There was nothing in my brain but the buzz of continuous orgasms.

When he rolled me over, I stopped crying and started shouting. Doggy style always changes how the guy feels, and for me it's always more intense. Apparently, more intense with Frankie means repeatedly screaming "It's so big!" at the top of my lungs. I feel bad for his neighbors... No, I don't. I don't give a shit about them.

He had his hands on my shoulders, wet squelching from my juices marking each thrust. That and my incessant screaming. It was just so good.

I never wanna stop. Don't stop, don't stop. God, just keep fucking me.

It seemed like he would, just keep fucking forever. I don't know if it was my drunk brain or if we actually did fuck for hours but it felt like an eternity of bliss. We changed positions a number of times but when he finally came I had him yank on my hair so I could cum in time with him. He didn't pull like J does, with a definitive yank, but the pressure and pain in my roots was exactly what I was looking for. We finished together and passed out on opposite sides of the bed.