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The Long Way Home

27 Jul

*note from author: I debated long and hard if I should post this or not. If you choose to read on, you´ll see it is pretty graphic. X rated, even. A part from a few details in setting, the story is fiction despite the opening line. I really want to make that clear. The exercise was to write a fist person, raunchy story. With that said, reader discretion is advised.

party

The following story is factually true. Take into consideration it is being told through the distorted lens of a drunken teenage boy. Seventeen years already has history distorting powers. Let´s take into consideration the alcoholic soup the story swims in. Reader discretion advised. Enjoy.

It started off as a typical Friday night. Warm ups included whatever was the cheapest thirty pack of beer the store had to offer and taking turns on the gravity bong. The gravity bong for the uninitiated is simply the most ridiculous homemade device for smoking marijuana. Google it. Ours was a one gallon milk jug in a bucket of water. The same bucket we used to clean the house. Who am I kidding, the house never got cleaned.

We were good and wrecked when somebody suggested we go to frat row in down town New Brunswick, New Jersey to “get fucked up”. We were all attending an educational establishment too embarrassing to mention here, so we piggy backed the party scene at Rutgers University. We decided I was not sober enough to drive so someone else, who was probably equally inebriated but could hide it better, did.

At this stage of my life, Friday and Saturday nights had two purposes. Get wasted on whatever I could get my hands and cumming. The former happened regularly, the latter, at least at the hands of others, not so much. We got to the party and I set my internal radar on drugs, alcohol and any girl with self esteem low enough to touch me. On this fortunate night, I scored on all three fronts.

As I said, full recollection of this story is impossible but some things are still clear. The girl I struck up a conversation with was blond, so skinny she could elicit pity and had awful teeth. I remember the teeth because this is a pet peeve of mine, but I was talking and she was listening so I looked away. I remember playing a few rounds of beer pong when she suggested we find somewhere a little more private to enjoy each other´s company.

The Rutgers frat houses are strange structures. They are the old mansions of Johnson and Johnson executives from a century gone by. They are full of little hidden hallways, staircases and rooms that are hard to imagine what purpose they once served. We found an unoccupied room that only fit a bunk bed. You had to contort you body just to get into the thing. Bingo! We found our love nest.

We started making out and I managed to get her clothes off. She was too drunk to get mine off so I was obliged to help. I don´t remember much from this passionate encounter but I remember a few things. First, we did not have sex. As you will see, it would have better if we had because I would have been able to break her evil spell, get away from her and the rest of the night would not have gone down the way it did. We were then interrupted by a chubby fellow and told to leave the ex slave´s quarters immediately.

I pretended to like her for a few more hours with the hopes that she would make that sneezey feeling in my crotch that seemed to be the focus of my life. The party was winding down and I noticed my ride had left. She offered her place to crash. What a coincidence. I wish I could give more details of what happened next but I really don´t remember.

I do doubt we had intercourse because no black out is stronger than an orgasm. No matter how drunk or high I was, I remember them all and file them to be later used in search of manual relief. When I refer to this night in my mind, a message comes up “file empty”. But the story does not end here.

I woke up in a strange place. I was cold. In fact I was shivering. I pulled the covers over my shoulders. Colder yet. What gives. I looked around. I was clearly in a girl´s room but there was no girl. I put my hand down on the mattress. I realized what had happened. Exactly what I feared most as a twelve year old when I slept over at friend´s houses had happened. I made water in her bed, Miss Daisy. It was a gusher too. Everything was wet. My mind raced despite the pounding headache. I thought about gathering my things and jumping out the window. We were on the third story.

I did what any honorable man in my position would do. I pulled my jeans over my pissed in underwear, put the rest of my clothes on and went down stairs. She didn´t even look up from the television. This I remember as if it were yesterday. I told it was fun and it was nice to have met her. I even remembered my manners and told her she had a lovely home despite the fact it looked like a future hoarders episode. It was a few years away from that but that´s ok because the show hadn´t been invented yet. Like the gentlemen I was, I offered my phone number. She told me to write it on the dry erase board on the fridge. It had the grocery list and I felt bad about erasing it so I left it alone.

This was an age before cell phones. I had no cash for a cab and not even the bus. I was a good five miles from where I lived. Talk about walk of shame? This was the Bataan Death March of shame. I put my head down low and took that walk. I threw up a few times along the way but I made it. I was greeted with a round of high fives. I regaled them with my tale and I was awarded the “green hit” from the gravity bong for my troubles.

Liquid Werewolf

12 Mar

werewolf

 

For Rick, reality seemed as slippery as a bar of soap in a prison shower. It didn´t help that Rick was altering his consciousness on a daily basis. He would celebrate good occurrences by “going deep”, as he put it. He would escape the bad movements by “tuning out”, as he put it. But this had to change when he met Pamela. He was in love with her and Pamela did not approve of such behavior. He loved the feeling she gave him more than that of the substances, at least for now. Of course that feeling will fade and the sudden urgent hit of the substances will call him back. Not to mention the high will be increased by his abstinence making it harder to say no. But for now he is towing the line.

On a rainy Sunday afternoon while lying in bed after a hardy fast food lunch that made them sleepy, Pamela hit Rick with some shocking news.

“Rick, what do you think about kids?” she asked.

“They are great. Far from me” he answered. His words felt like a well placed punch in Pamela´s stomach.  “Why?” he asked.

“No reason” she said, trying to hide her real emotions.

Over the course of the next few months, Pamela did everything she could to hide her ever growing belly from Rick. Besides what he said on that rainy afternoon when she tried to tell him the news, deep down she knew he´d be a lousy father. He was 35 years old and living in a room in an old woman´s house. Their deal was, he´d keep the grass cut and the rent would be cheap.  The grass was knee high.

Pamela´s belly got to the point that no garment would hide it. She was nervous. She had a strange attachment to Rick even though she knew she could do much better. In her heart she knew she had to do better for herself and her unborn child. She wanted to have a dialog with Rick and she thought that maybe a few beers would loosen him up so she picked up a 12 pack on her way to Rick´s house.

When she arrived she offered him a beer. A wave of fear washed through Rick´s stomach. It was as if a self aware werewolf saw the first sliver of a full moon.

“Oh, I shouldn´t dear, I just took a Tylenol and that´s not good for the liver” he said, proud of his own quick thinking.

“Just one, hun. I´ll have one with you” she insisted.

“Just one” he said.

That first beer went down his throat as if it were honey descending a silk lined golden tube. It tasted so good. The slight alteration in mood felt so familiar. The air smelled better. The future seemed to not matter yet so much brighter at the same time. If one beer made him feel this way, another would make him feel that much better.

“Pass me another on, hun, that hit the spot” he said. He was careful to form the words perfectly. He did not want his tongue to defy him. He knew that it was already becoming a little rebellious.

“Sure” she said as she past him another.

He drank it down even more greedily than the first. The bright warm feeling starting to turn a little dark with this beer. The future seemed to matter even a little less, though the brightness was gone. The switch was thrown.

“We really need to talk” Pamela said not knowing that the chemistry of Rick´s brain was changing like a hot summer afternoon with a storm rolling in.

“Sure, babe, pass another beer” he said.

“Ok, but take it easy, you don´t want to get drunk, do you?” she said jokingly.

He didn´t pick up on the playfulness in her words and said “What is it to you if I get drunk. We are together for a few months and you already want to control me?” he felt an old anger that has been with him for years. “I want a cigarette”.

“You smoke?” Pamela asked with a shocked expression on her face.

“Sometimes” he said as he reached passed her and pulled the third beer from the box.

“I didn´t know that” she said.

“Yeah? Well, there are a lot of things you don´t know about me” he said with a face that was not hiding the sourness he felt in his soul. He chugged the beer without even taking a breath. He reached for the fourth.

“What´s going on here?” Pamela asked.

“You told me to” he answered. This really confused Pamela.

“I have to go” Pamela gathered her things and went for the box of beer when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled it away.

“You can leave that” Rick said.

“Ok” she said with tears in her eyes.

That night Rick went on a bender that ended three days later. When he finally passed out in a burned out house on a pissed stained mattress in the seedy part of town, Pamela had already crossed the country to lay her head on the silk pillow in the luxurious guest room of her sister´s home.

The Older Woman

4 Feb

nothing mom

There she lay, glistening in a sensual sizzle. The straps of her bikini undone, dangling from the sides of her folding chair tempted him in a way that brought physical pain to his loins.

He watched her from the kitchen window. She was getting her afternoon sun on her well worked body. His teenage erection was completely unhidden in his knee length basketball shorts, sans underwear. The feeling off the silky fabric rubbing on him every time he moved his hips made it difficult for him to stand still. He looked like a novice hula dancer swaying his hips so erratically.

Her body was perfect and not just for a woman of her age, though she wore her 50 years fabulously, but for a woman of any age. A rare mix of great genetics and vanity, she took very good care of herself. She had no idea that she had an audience at the moment.

His vision was going in and out of blurry spells, the fire so stoked in his loins. He couldn´t take it. He needed release. He promised himself he wouldn´t do this anymore. He had asked his pastor if this behavior was all right and as he expected, was told no. He prayed to make these feelings go away. But they didn´t. It did not help that prayer time was so close to same time where he was left alone with his thoughts in the dark. With no one around. No one watching.

He asked God to forgive him one more time as he reached for the cooking oil. He splashed a little in his palm. It was enough. In fact, it was unnecessary as there was enough Cowper’s fluid accumulated that it looked as though he had wet himself a little.

He reached into his shorts and almost instantly a wave of delicious shame pulsated through his body. He felt amazing and awful as his eyes fluttered and became difficult to keep open. He even uttered an audible ‘uh’. His knees went weak and then he felt panic. She was tying her bikini up. She was coming inside.

The orgasm hadn´t even fully finished and she was steps away from the back door. He didn´t know what to do so he and his handful of shame opened the door to the basement. He didn´t even think about turning on the light. He just stumbled down the stairs into the musty darkness.

“What do you want for lunch” called the voice of the once object of his deepest desire.

A shaky voice came from the darkness of the basement. “Nothing, Mom.”

Happy Birthday!

5 Dec

Angel of Orgasm

 

“Did you ever imagine what triggers an orgasm?” Jake asked as he took pulled his face inches away from Ashley`s between kisses.

“I like to believe that they are little explosions ignited by angels” Ashley answered.

“Good answer” he whispered as his mouth went back to hers.

All of a sudden there was a loud “What the fuck” heard in the background and the door flew open with a crash.

“Bill, what are you doing here?” Ashley asked.

“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bill asked right back.

Jake saw that he was giving up at least fifty pounds to Bill, mostly in the form of muscle, panicked and went for the window.

“Oh no you don’t you little shit!” Bill said. He crossed the room with surprising speed and agility for a man of his size. His large, strong hand crashed down on Jake’s bare shoulder pulling him back into the room. “You ain’t going nowhere” he said. With a twist of pleasure in his voice he said  “Your mine”

Jake was trembling. His knees felt weak. He could barely stand on his own. He collapsed into a ball of naked, bony flesh and meticulously messy hair.

Bill stood over him and started undoing his pants. Ashley screamed very unconvincingly “No, don’t do it Bill”

“This here little feller likes to fuck married people, then he’s gonna fuck married people”

Bill took out his lustful rage on Jake for three full minutes until angels detonated his orgasm.

Bill then went rooting through his pants looking for his cigarettes.  When he found them he offered one to Jake and said “No hard feelings there, little feller?” Jake just stared into nothingness. He looked catatonic.

Ashley then said to Bill “Happy Birthday honey! I knew you’d like him. He’s got that spikey hair you like so much”

“Ah, love, you sure do know me” he said as he took a long pull on his cigarette.

An Unfortunate Chain of Events Pt. III

25 Oct

Francine raced home to tell Jim the good news. Jim was already celebrating his good news by opening an expensive bottle that was given to him as a going away present when he left the firm in New York. His usual afternoon buzz was about to be taken up a notch.

Jim kept going over in his head the details of his new life in New York and how great it was going to be again. The Thursday nights going out to the clubs and hitting on NYU students much younger than himself were racing through his head. And this time he would be single. No one to check in to and make up stories to about his whereabouts. He was already convinced that he was going without Francine.

Francine was thinking of baby names if it were a girl because if it were a boy, she´ll let Jim name him. That´s how her family has named babies for two generations. She was already imaging how the baby’s room would look. Of course, they would have to remodel the room that Jim calls an office but uses as his internet porn viewing room.

Francine pulled into the driveway and Jim started to prepare himself about what he was going to say. How would he break this to her? Francine opened the door and with a huge smile threw her arms around Jim. “Honey, I have great news,” she said.

“I have news, too,” he said.

“Of course you can go first honey, but I am sure mine is bigger!” she said with such a smile that Jim was now very curious as to learn what she had to say.

“Go ahead, Fran, you go first” he said.

“We’re pregnant, love!” tears rolled down her face as these words came from her mouth.

“What do you mean WE?!” he said with a twisted look on his face.

A puzzled look came upon Francine’s face. Jim took notice and realized how awful he just sounded but his thoughts were spinning so far out of control he could not rectify the situation.

Francine stammered a little, “I am pregnant. Dr. Spengler just told me over the phone”.

Jim couldn´t help himself. The booze had lubed his tongue and the words just slipped out “Weren´t you taking the pill for Christ sake? And, hell, are you sure it´s even mine?” he was getting louder “It´s been months since we last fucked.”

Francine was shocked. She didn´t know what to say or think. She was certain he would be just as happy as she would. Her tears of joy turned to tears of sadness. Now it was her thoughts that were spinning.

Jim realized how harsh he had been and apologized. He told her that he had been stressed out about a few things. Then Francine asked, “What about your news? Didn´t you have something to tell me?”

Jim wasn’t even listening. All he was doing was calculating child support payments based on his new salary and if he would have enough at the end of the week to go out.

With almost no life in his eyes, he looked at Francine and asked, “Have you thought about an abortion?”

An Unfortunate Chain of Events Pt. II

23 Oct

Jim answered the phone with his usual afternoon buzz making his thoughts a little fuzzy.

“Hello”, Jim said.

“Jim, you son of a bitch!” said the voice.

“Who is this?” Jim asked, a little annoyed.

“It´s Frank. From the firm. Don’t tell me you forgot about us already! It´s only been a few months.”

“Hell no Frank! I just wasn´t expecting you. I thought it was my damn in-laws. They call all day long”, Jim said with half a smirk. It was all he could muster because his mouth muscles atrophied from months of a lack of smiling.

“Sounds like you are loving domesticated small town life”, Frank said.

“You fucking kidding me? I hate this shit”, Jim always swore more when he was drinking. He swore a lot.

“Then I have great news for you. Stan wants you back. He didn´t really specify why he wants you so bad but he does. I think it´s because it has been so hard to find decent consistent people with half a brain. Plus, Stan always liked you.” Frank said.

“That sounds great,” Jim said, with a million things flashing through his head. “What´s the offer?”, he asked.

“What you were earning plus twenty percent, some more benefits and a larger profit share”, Frank said. “Plus, all of your moving expenses paid to come back and a company rent controlled apartment with a lease for three years”.

“Oh my god! I´m in!” Jim said with wide eyes.

“You think you can convince Francine?” Frank asked.

“I don´t care if can or not. I´m going with or without her”, Jim said.

“Looks like little Jimmy has finally grown a pair! Good to hear. Look, my secretary will call you to make flight arrangements. You´ll need to come to New York ASAP to sign a few things before we get the ball rolling”, Frank said, then he added, “Hey, take it easy on Francine, will ya? She´s a good girl. Let her down easy. If you can´t convince her to go, I mean. You know, she was close to my wife and she´s convinced Francine won´t go for it. Her dream is the picket fence in small town USA with the kids and all. She hated NY.”

“Don´t worry about that. We´ve been growing apart since coming here anyway. Might even be a relief for her”, Jim said.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

Francine was driving home from the supermarket when her cell phone rang. “Hello”, she said.

“Francine?” the voice asked.

“Yes, this is she”, she said.

“Francine, this is Charlotte from Dr. Spengle’s office. The results of your blood work are in. He would like you to come in to discuss a few things”, the secretary said.

“Is everything ok?” Francine asked with worry in her voice.

“Yes, but I am not at liberty to divulge information over the phone but the doctor does need to speak to you in person” the secretary said.

“If you can´t tell me, can Dr. Spengle?” Francine asked.

“Actually, he is free. I´ll transfer you over”, the secretary said.

“Thanks”, Francine said.

“Francine?”, Dr. Spengle said.

“Yes?” Francine said with her heart racing.

“Francine, you’re pregnant”, the doctor said.

After a long pause Dr. Spengle heard from a distance as if the telephone had fallen to the floor “Oh my God! Thank you lord! I am so happy!”

An Unfortunate Chain of Events Pt. I

21 Oct

(note from the author: This will be a multiple part story written in 500 word sessions. Please enjoy and stay tuned.)

Francine was the motor behind her beloved husband’s success. Jim was the type of person that was very intelligent and full of potential, but left to his own devices would never see that potential realized. Until his senior year of high school he was a C+ student but without even opening a book. When Francine entered his life he almost instantly became an A Student and continued to be one through college. She never told him to do better. She made him want to do better. And it wasn´t even to impress her. It was to make him feel like he deserved her. People always wanted to be their best when they were around Francine.

Jim’s intelligence and tendency to buck the system are what attracted Francine. He never accepted the status quo. He questioned everything. The fact that he was extremely handsome did not wane Francine’s desire either. They met at a protest against the drilling of oil on a Native American reserve. Although Francine self-identified herself as African American, she still reveled in the fact that she was of Comanche ancestry. Jim was there because he could not give up an opportunity to poke the eye of the man. The fact that Jim was white brought a lot of attention. The majority of the protesters were either Comanche people or ancestors so Jim stuck out with his polo shirt clad six foot four frame.

That protest was almost 6 years, a few degrees between them and many moves around the United States ago. They decided to settle down and get married in the small Texas town where they started their relationship. Francine wanted to start making a family of their own and wanted to be closer to her parents. Jim was reluctant because this meant giving up a fledgling, yet promising, career in finance that he had started in New York. After many nights arguing, sometimes arriving on the verge of violence, Jim acquiesced. But knowledge in finance was not the only thing Jim brought to Texas from New York. His Wall Street colleges introduced him to some new vices. Some were mild, like single malt scotch and cigars and some were not so mild like cocaine and high end escorts. Of course, Francine knew nothing of this. He always showed his best face to Francine. Francine was so focused on the prospect of her new family that she didn´t notice slight changes in Jim.

In Texas, far removed from the hustle and bustle of New York Jim actually forgot about his new found fondness for cocaine but not for drink. Again, Francine unconsciously turned a blind eye with her future family the star of her thoughts. Jim started drinking more and more as Francine nested. He drowned himself in whiskey as Francine drowned herself in bags from Ikea and Tok and Stok. Jim started to resent Francine´s happiness. He started to regret coming back to Texas. One sunny afternoon, with half a buzz on, Jim answered a call that would change both of their lives forever and so did Francine.