What was He Thinking? >>>

Imagine, if you will, someone being pulled, off guard, by your left hand, no make that arm, snapping your neck like a cracked whip and stumbling into a house, of course tripping over the door railings at the same time. It was something out of a slapstick, with a little bit of porno thrown in, Three Stooges movie. I fell on to my dude, made him fall as well and couldn’t stop laughing for about ten minutes, nor could he. All the while he was trying to yell at me for being an asshole, his words not mine, and my dick was still hanging out of pants, still hard.

He asked what the fuck I was doing pounding on his door when we were being watched. I told him I thought he was just a bit more paranoid than he should have been. It had been over a week and I figured the “investigation” was no longer hot enough to be important to anyone. Also, and the truth of the matter, I really didn’t care. If I did would I have been doing what I was doing? Of course not!

We were still lying on the floor by the undraped sliders when I reached over between his legs and began making him hard, too. He returned the favor, as I had hoped, and we just did what we normally did right there on the floor in front of the windows. I was so sexually in tune that when I finally got my dick in him it took only about a minute or two before I nutted. I didn’t want it to end so I told him to fuck me. I had never let him do that before, but this time I wanted it, and I know he did, too. It took a while before I could convince him, but, after greasing his big thick cock with Cool Whip and licking it for a bit, I coaxed him into me. Wow, what an intense felling that was. I had been taken before, but never with as much tenderness and force at the same time. I know that sounds odd, but I can describe it in no other manner. He slowly entered then built up steam in much the same way a train would do. I actually had to push him back a few times because he was too thick and it hurt. That’s something coming from a slutty little bitch like me.

Anyway, when we were done I could see the fear all over his face. Although it was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life, I believe it may have traumatized him to no return. He apologized about twenty times within a span of ten minutes. He kept holding and petting me as if I were a dying pet. He gave me what seemed like a hundred little kisses on the top of my head. He kept rubbing my back and neck; actually I was starting to get hard again and was just about ready for round two. Just at that moment, he leapt up and said he thought he had heard something outside. I, of course, put it off as his paranoia. That was until I saw the beam of a flashlight play across the back lawn.

He ordered me to get down, which of course I found funny, then pushed me to the carpet, kind of roughly. The look in his eyes was that of the proverbial deer in the headlights. He then nudged me, with his head like an annoying cat trying to get attention, toward the back of the house. Although I knew why he was so weirded out, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the reason he was SO afraid. For God’s sake, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, at least morally. I was the immoral one, and anyone who knew me would attest to that fact, except maybe my mother (though I am not really sure about her either). He was scrambling for his clothes with one hand and shoving me with the other while I was attempting to move where he wanted me. I was still naked myself but didn’t care about my clothing. Instead of playing along with him I just got up and walked back to my room. I heard him gasp then felt the air change behind me.

Then next thing I knew he was right behind me breathing so hard it made my skin crawl. He whispered hoarsely that I would not ruin his life anymore and that I would either do as he said or not have a life of my own. You all know how that was going to go with a person like me, and it did. I turned around with more anger than I think I had ever been able to muster and pushed him back against the other wall. I told him that he would never threaten me again if he knew what was good for him. I couldn’t fathom that fact that he would even think he could say something like that to me especially when he was so afraid of the legal issues surrounding our psuedo-relationship. For fuck sake, man, I held all the cards. But, for only the second time in my life, the first was when my mother went after that woman in the store many years before; I saw pure hatred in someone’s eyes.

This was definitely the end of what we had, but I was far from done with him. In fact, what I had planned was just beginning to take shape in my mind. Originally I wanted to help bring him out of his self-imposed prison and introduce him to life without fear of consequence. Now, I wanted to show him what true fear was REALLY all about. Oh yes, that was what he would know. Feeling him shake with anger as I held my hands to his neck, I stared directly into his eyes and just shook my head. I removed my hands and slowly walked away, not even giving him the satisfaction of looking back. I went back to the family room, collected my clothes (noticed I was incredibly hard), beat off quickly (leaving my nut on the floor), got dressed and left.

I heard his feeble call at my back but, not that I was going to acknowledge him anyway, was distracted by the dark shape on the lawn near the end of the driveway. I was not a person who ever really had any relationship with fear and this case was no different. In fact, it was a pure case of curiosity. I know what you are all thinking, and it is often true, but I couldn’t find any reason to believe in such bullshit. (Curiosity killed the cat and all…) I walked, cautiously (I said I had no fear not that I was stupid) toward the figure and he suddenly jumped my way. I knew in an instant who it was but couldn’t wrap my mind around why he was there. It was my old college boy from about four years before.

It must have been the utter confusion in my eyes that made he say the he, “Got,” me. I told him that was not the case but he continued on in the vein for some time. When I finally got him to stop, there was no way I was going to convince him he hadn’t done anything to scare me, so to speak, I pointedly asked him what the fuck he was doing there. He said he wanted to see what I was doing lately because he missed our times together and that he had been watching me for a while. I found this somewhat disconcerting, not because I was worried about implications with my dude, because I was being followed and had absolutely no inkling it was happening. I made a mental note to be a bit more diligent with regard to watching my own back.

He told me that he had been around the college again for a while, he had just graduated with his BA, and heard one of the professors was hooked up with some young boy. He further told me he figured it was probably me and had made it a point to find out. I felt his jealousy peeking back up but was intrigued enough to prod him to continue. He told me that he had never lost me but hadn’t really wanted to be too close. People talked about me constantly; therefore, it was never difficult to follow my general movements. As I have already told you I was never one to be sneaky so I was not surprised. AND, I knew I had a reputation, which I had built for myself, that preceded me everywhere I went, within certain circles at least. I guess that was what I got for my ostentatious car as well as my, “I don’t give a fuck,” attitude, but I still didn’t give a fuck and never would.

I was getting tired of the background bullshit and pushed him toward what had just happened. We were still standing in the drive so I began working toward my car. I asked him what he was trying to do sneaking around like that. There was no way he could have thought someone wouldn’t notice him. He told me that his intention was to BE seen because he knew I was there. In fact he said he had seen the entire thing since I started wanking, his word, at the back slider-door. I have to say, I was impressed with his spy tactics.

The Proverbial Bump in the Road>>>

Everything being equal, I should have been quite happy with my situation, but, as you have no doubt already discerned (and if not you should be fucking ashamed of yourself), happy was not something I was ever going to be. Not, mind you, that I was ever Unhappy either. I just was, and that was always just perfectly fine with me. Anyway, my guy was doing everything he could to make me happy. He bought me everything I even mentioned. He took me places. We must have gone to K-Mart nearly four times each week, in fact some of the people there actually seemed to remember us and wonder what we were after next. But even stuff gets boring after a while. I needed something more.

My dude had definitely fallen in love with me, which is, at first, exactly what I wanted. I figured, rightfully so, that I could lead him around if I could make him fall for me. I also knew it would take nothing for me to make a man, who was already obviously looking, fall in love with my beautiful self. This, though, was beginning to go a bit too far. People were beginning to talk, which, honestly, didn’t mean a fucking thing to me. BUT mouthy people tended to stick their nosey selves into places where they did not belong. AND, guess what, they did it again.

I had to keep showing him what he wanted, all the while getting everything I possibly could. I had all or the latest game stuff, a couple of TVs, a HUGE stereo system, the latest Alpine in my car, even two VCRs so I could tape stuff from HBO. In fact, I was pretty ostentatious about my stuff. Everyone knew what I had, which, of course, sparked jealousy. The jealously started the proverbial tongue wagging. The tongue-wagging begat innuendo. The innuendo became rumor. The rumor was suddenly fact, AND fact, of course, is undeniable. My poor benefactor was soon ensconced in a whirlwind of popular distaste, distrust, and finally legal questioning.

What you all will hate about me, and as you know it doesn’t matter, is that I really didn’t care. In fact, I was getting a bit tired of his cloying ways and feeling it was time to move on. The dumb ass shouldn’t have let me get away with all he did, but that is the nature of the beast, I suppose. Love does odd things to people. Lucky me! I would NEVER have to worry about such a moronic emotion.

Not that I really think I have to, but I am going to tell you some of things that happened to my guy. My reasoning is just that some of our societal “checks and balances” do not actually HELP anyone. Truthfully, they vilify some of the very people that really ARE trying to help. It must be known that most people do fall in love AND that love finds you, you do not find love. Anyway, this is what got him into trouble.

He continued to want to do for me, regardless of what was happening around him. I heard his people saying things about our “relationship.” His family, though nice to me, at times to a fault, was not happy with the arrangement. In fact, I overheard one of them talking about how I was doing nothing but using him. Right on the mark, momma. Too bad your sonny-boy didn’t listen to you that time either, huh?

Because of his obsession, his work soon began to suffer. He was checking up on me at all times of the day and night. He began to drink more regularly than he had before, according to him it was because he was bored when I was not around, therefore needed something to do. I would call him whenever the urge hit, maybe 2 AM, maybe 5 AM, and, whenever the call came in, he would come to pick me up. Yes, I had a vehicle, but why should I drive when I could get him to do it? No matter what shape he was in, he would get into that car and come get me from wherever I was. I couldn’t have cared less about any consequences of his inebriation and obviously he didn’t either.

After my arrival we he would sit around while I played video games. He would watch as I made tapes I could sell to my acquaintances. I always tried to get him to play the games with me but he hated doing it so I finally gave up. Soon, the sun would be coming up and he would be SUPPOSED to be getting ready for work. Usually he did the normal morning routine, but he never followed through and ended up calling in to say he would not be there. Though he had enough money to do what he wanted, he still needed to keep up appearances as well as his built up prestige. I helped him ruin that.

Within about two months from when I had begun to get bored, the law became involved in a major way. Something had happened one day while I was at his house that caused me to have to go to the emergency room. I was basically staying with him and only him at that time and neither one of us thought about such a thing. My mother was around, but not always easy to find because she knew I was OK, not that I wasn’t always OK, but you know what I mean. So in this instance, I ended up with something wrong around my dick. I was actually scared for the first time in my life because my nuts began to swell up and soon they looked like a baseball. We went to the emergency room where he tried to explain our relationship. They immediately separated us and would not let him stay with me. Within five minutes there were cops at my bedside. It turned out I had an STD, probably from one of those fucking high school assholes, literally, I had been fucking around with on the side that had gone unchecked for a while.

While I was being interrogated, I found out later, he was, too. It turns out that the cops are nasty mother-fuckers, not that you didn’t already know that. They told me he was talking and they told him I was talking. The stupid thing they did, though, was use phrases and words both of us absolutely KNEW the other would not say. I also knew that there was not way I was going to let something that good slip away, besides, nothing we were doing was in any way wrong.

Regardless of what we said, the powers that be decided we could not see each other for at least 60 days. Can you imagine how fucking pissed-off I was? Probably not, because most of you think what we were doing was not right due to some fucked up moral code you have. That, of course is one of the reasons I HAD to write this down before…

The Social Services agency in the state had more power than GOD. I hate using such terminology, but it seemed to be not far from the truth. While nothing less than the Constitution of the United States of America, and I THOUGHT that was where I was, allows for certain freedoms and rights, the Department of Children and Family Services has some untoward authority to usurp the law of the land based upon supposition. They decided that we needed to be investigated to determine whether or not there was something going on. Mind you, my mother, and you already know as much about her as you need to know, didn’t have any problem, I had told them there was nothing wrong, and my dude had said there was nothing going on. The only thing they had was my STD, and, as I told you earlier, it didn’t come from him anyway. To make matters somewhat worse, he was so freaked out by the entire situation that he even went to his doctor to get himself checked out (I could have passed it to him but didn’t really want to tell him that.) but. Luckily, he came out clean.

As an aside, let me tell you about the test they do for this. I am going to preface this by saying it definitely ain’t for the squeamish. The first thing they tell you is that it will cause some discomfort. Well, that is the epitome of the understatement of the decade. Imagine, if you will, seeing someone take a Q-Tip and hold it near the tip of your dick. All at once you get the idea of what they are about to do and immediately it shrinks. Then, no numbing, no special tool, they slowly put it to the piss slit, slightly turning it like you would when cleaning your ears, and slide it in. Once in, they turn it around to do, what I do not know. Finally they pull it out, quickly and without fanfare, and put it in an envelope that probably goes to some lab somewhere. All the while, you are sitting there feeling more violated than you ever have before and are practically in shock as to the feeling still there. It, honest to God, took me about three weeks before I could even touch my cock without a slight feeling of revulsion. Oh, not at myself, of course, but at the memory of the, “invasion,” as I had come to call it.

Anyway, as you have probably surmised, this did not stop us. What it did was actually rejuvenate our previously slipping relationship. Me, being me, I was in no way going to let someone else tell me what I could and could not do. And he was so infatuated; he could let me go. We snuck around in the dead of the night. We would meet at out of the way places where he would get a hotel room and say we were working on a project. I was actually having a blast. This new clandestine shit was more exciting to me than that last couple of years had been. I was in a whole new world and was going to make the best of it while it lasted.

I would suggest some movie and he would pick me up at one of the stores or another. I might say I wanted to go swimming, so we would meet somewhere and go to the Eastgate Coliseum. There were time I just wanted to go back to his house and play my games, but he would never allow that, at least at first. I felt as though we were living some kind of James Bond existence. He was always looking behind him, in the rearview mirror, out the windows, everywhere. He was freaking out; I was having the time of my life. Soon, though, that too began to take its toll.

My dude’s problems soon began overtaking his life. He showed some major signs of a mental breakdown. The guy was beginning to become completely introverted and never wanted to be seem in public with me, one of the things I liked the most because he was so fucking white, while I was of an indeterminate background due to my, as I have told you before, beautiful skin tone. People had always given us odd looks, which he at first relished. Now they made him fear someone was “watching” us. Even people to whom he had spoken often, those few I had met, were on his list of folks who “probably said something to the cops.” I ALMOST felt sorry for his ass. One time, luckily I wasn’t there because I had finally convinced him to let me return and fuck him a couple of times a night, a sheriff’s deputy knocked on the door while his sister happened to be staying. That particular incident sent him into a hole I could from which I could not bring him back. He didn’t leave the house for at least a week, not even for me!

Though, as I said, I was pretty much done, this I took as a personal challenge. It was hard for me to believe that all this time I had spent on this guy was going to be fucked up by some stupid bitch putting her nose in a place it did not belong. I had pranced around seducing him by increments over the past year. We were finally at the point where every time I wanted a blowjob or to fuck, he just opened one orifice or another let me do my thing. I wouldn’t do anything for him, but I definitely got what I needed from him. He was pretty fucking good, too. I had to get that back before I left, damn it!

I began calling constantly. Most often he just let the answering machine pick up the call. Once every probably four or five times he would actually pick up. I tried to be nice to him, that didn’t work. I tried to be pushy, that didn’t work. I even got nasty, that didn’t work. My only other plan of attack had to be physical. I went to his house, leaving my car on the street because he had never allowed me to park it there. Now that I think back that was no better really because, as you already know, that car was not something someone would NOT notice, but I didn’t really give a shit. I rang the front doorbell and he didn’t answer, but I did get the feeling he was looking out. I then went around back to the slider. He didn’t come to that either, so I did what popped into my head (you can feel the humor building here because the words “popped” and “head” both have a dual connotation and both are being used). I unzipped my Levi’s and pulled out my dick. I began beating off right there and was hard in less than two seconds. Within the next three, I was being pulled in the door like something you would see in a movie.