by Shaun Hupp
Trish went over to her mini champagne fridge and pulled out a bottle she knew Terry wouldn’t miss. Then, she decided fuck it and grabbed one of his favorites.
Maybe if you were home once and a while, you’d get to see me in one of these outfits that goes on your credit card, she thought as a single tear formed at the corner of her eye. And maybe if you didn’t work so much, I wouldn’t be on boyfriend number five.
She quickly wiped the tear away, checked her mascara on the side of the toaster, and grabbed two champagne flutes from the cabinet. Doesn’t he realize how lonely I get? she thought. Would he even care if he found out about all these flings?
Trish filled up the two glasses and headed back. She pushed those hurt feelings deep down and prepared herself a night that would hopefully make her feel wanted again, even if it were just meaningless sex. To Grant, she was just a hole that he planned on filling. Oddly enough, she felt likewise.
Chapter Two
“Do you want to fuck me?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I’ve been so lonely and so, so horny. I need a big, strong man that can satisfy me. Can you satisfy me, baby?”
“You know I can.”
“Do you want to put it in my tight. . .”
“Yes.”
“. . .wet. . .”
“Yes.”
“. . .Pu-“ A pop-up appeared on the screen with a flashing button that had the words: Click here to view the full video on our website.
“DAMN IT!” I screamed and hit Esc on the keyboard to exit full-screen mode. There were millions of free porn videos online. I wasn’t about to go to a pay website and give them my credit card information. That’s how I got my card taken away by my parents last time and I didn’t need that happening again. I needed it for gas or it was back to taking the bus to school. Not that my old beater car was any less embarrassing.
I grabbed my jumbo-sized, fast food cup and took a drink. And without gas for my POS car, I would be stuck eating the food in the house. My mom couldn’t cook to save her life. No wonder both my parents were rail-thin. I reached over to the yellow paper-covered brick and unwrapped my triple bacon, double cheeseburger deluxe with extra mayo, extra barbecue sauce. I held that wet sesame seed bun with both chubby hands, forced my mouth as wide as it could go, and took a big bite. It was orgasmic.
“Enjoying your burger, fatty?”
I put my food back down on the greasy paper and spun around in my computer chair. There, leaning against my closed door, was Tony Miller dressed in his standard, custom-faded and torn jeans and designer T-shirt touting whatever teen clothing store was the popular trend these days. His perfectly trimmed short, blond hair made my hair look like my mom cut mine. . . which she did.
“I said, ‘Are you enjoying your burger, fatty’?”
I rotated my chair back to the computer. Don’t pay attention to him; he’ll leave you alone, I thought. I took another sip from my sugary drink.
“Keep telling yourself that, you fat fuck! Fat Matt, Fat Matt had a heart attack. Fell over and killed the cat. Woke up and had a flat snack!”
My drink trembled in my hand; ice cubes knocked against one another. I took enough abuse from him and his friends all day at school and I wasn’t going to do it at home too. “SHUT UP!” I whirled around and flung the drink at him. . . only to see it explode against the door. Brown liquid ran down it and pooled onto the carpet.
I was alone.
“You’re not real,” I whimpered. “You’re not real.”
Back to the computer screen, I turned. I’ll clean up that mess later or I’ll just leave it. It’s not like anyone will care, I thought. My carpet was already covered in stains anyway. I was just glad my parents weren’t home to hear me. It was Saturday; my mother wanted to go to the mall as usual and wanted me and my dad to go with her. I pretended to be sick, which isn’t too hard when you sweat all the time. I just couldn’t risk my mother dragging me into the Big and Tall store for new pants and Tony (the real one) and his friends seeing me. They didn’t need any more ammo than they already had against me.
I quickly found another video that looked like it would do. I clicked the picture of the blond, teenage girl and waited for the video to load.
“You know. . . If that girl went to our high school, she wouldn’t even look at you, but give me a couple of days and I’d be balls deep in her.”
Ignore him.
The video loaded pretty quickly despite the crappy internet connection due to my house being out in the boonies. The girl with the bad dye job looked seductively into the camera. She was wearing a red string bikini, but it quickly disappeared in the next scene. This video was yet another where if you wanted the whole video, you had to pay. Nevertheless, I hoped it showed me what I needed to get off.
The girl’s breasts were almost non-existent. Usually, I liked them ‘bigger the better’, but I wasn’t too picky right now. An off-camera hand came on the screen and pinched one of her brown nipples. She moaned. A deep male voice said, “Are you ready to suck this cock?”
A laugh. I looked over at my bed where Tony was laying down, tossing and catching a baseball. “I bet she couldn’t even find your dick under all that fat.”
I ignored him, increased the sound on my speakers, and looked back to the screen. Already the girl had the cameraman’s penis in her mouth. This is what I needed. I quickly stood up, pulled my grey sweatpants down, and freed my own penis from my boxers. I stroked it as I watch her slide her mouth back and forth. From this point of view, I could pretend his dick was my dick.
The man moaned. I moaned. Tony laughed. “Your wang is so small and your hand is so fat, I can’t even see what you’re doing over there.”
Ignore him.
I turned the volume up again. The scene cut to the cameraman giving it to her from behind doggy-style. He said,”You’re so fucking wet.” My hand felt dry. I reached over, rubbed my hand on the greasy burger wrapper, and went back to jacking off.
“Oh, that’s so fucking gross. You are seriously messed up, Fatty Matty.”
“SHUT UP!” I started beating faster and closed my eyes, listening to the girl screaming with pleasure. My greasy hand felt good against my shaft.
“Why don’t you put some ketchup and mustard on it too while you’re at it? Maybe, you could-“
“SHUT UP!” I hurried over to the empty bed and pounded my fists against the mattress over and over. Left, right, left, right. I shut my eyes and let the rage inside of me take over. Left, right, left, right. Soon, I didn’t even feel like I was in control of my body. Left, right, left, right. When I was finally out of breath, I opened my eyes and stared down at the oily hand stains on my bedspread. Yet another mess no one would care about. I stood up and caught my reflection in the hanging wall mirror. My easily 300lb frame barely fit within its edges. Sweat had plastered my brown hair to my forehead. I had my pants around my ankles, my limp penis barely hung outside my grease stained boxers, and tears streaming down my face, as orgasmic screams filled my bedroom.
I pulled my sweatpants up, walked back over to the computer, and exited out of the internet. Screams of ecstasy that echoed off the walls turned to silence except for my heavy breathing. I was done. It just wasn’t happening for me. Tony had gotten to me once again.
The front doorbell rang.
I jumped as much as my fat frame would allow. My parents rarely got visitors and I had no friends. It could be a salesman or maybe a neighbor.
It could be Tony.
It’s not Tony. Tony doesn’t know where I live, and if he did, he certainly wouldn’t ring the doorbell and risk getting my parents.
I walked over to the window and peeked through the blinds. I couldn’t see the front door, but I could see the driveway; it was empty. It had to be someone from one of the homes nearby, but even nearby was quite the distance.
The doorbell chimed again. With my parents away, I could ignore it. Any neighbor would just think that the whole family was out. We didn
’t have a garage so whoever it was could see the family car was not home. My car was, but a neighbor could assume we took one car for that ‘perfect family’ outing.
I chuckled at that thought.
Now, there was a banging on the door. Jesus, I thought. Maybe it was some sort of emergency. The closest neighbors to us are an elderly couple. Perhaps something was wrong.
I opened the door to my room, stepped over the puddle of cola, and headed downstairs. Each wooden step groaned as my foot hit it. I tried to tell myself that it was an old house, but my parents never had such issue.
I reached the door. Still time to change my mind. No. What if something happened to Mr. Myers? He has a bad heart. I would feel awful if I could have helped. I grabbed a hold of the doorknob and opened the door.
It wasn’t Mrs. Myer or even Mr. Myer. My hand trembled on the knob as I gave witness to only what could be described as an angel fell to Earth. Had I checked the peephole, perhaps being given a tiny glimpse would have prepared me for taking in her beauty entirely. Her impossibly long legs gave way to jean shorts that were way too short to be school appropriate. But she was no girl. She was a woman in her mid-twenties. Her long, brown hair almost matched the shade of her tanned skin. She gave me a perfect smile.
“Hi. Sorry to disturb you like this. Umm. . . My car broke down a little ways down the road and this was the first house I came to. Do you mind if I use your phone? You know. . . to call a tow truck.”
I tried to get my mouth to move, but it wouldn’t respond. This had happened to me before at school, and this was where the girl usually called me a perv and told me to stop staring at her. This woman wasn’t like that. She gave me a little smile and put her hand on my shoulder. “I’d really appreciate it. Yours is the first place I’ve seen in a while. I’d hate to keep walking. My feet are killing me.”
Still unable to talk, I just moved my bulky body aside and let her in. Her high heeled sandals clacked on the tile of our entryway. She turned around and flashed that smile again. “Nice place you got here. I’m Nikki, by the way.”
“My parents’,” I blurt out, finding my voice.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s my parents’. I mean, I live here, but they own it. I’m going to get my own place real soon after I graduate. . . Not that I’m some young kid. I’m eighteen for sure. MATT! My name’s Matt.”
I silently kicked myself for being so awkward. Now, she thinks I’m some kid, I thought. I should have told her this was my house and I was an available bachelor.
She gave me an odd look. “Uh, huh. The phone. . .?” She crossed her arms and pointed to the right, which was the living room and to the left, which was the kitchen. I felt the stirring in my crotch as I watched her arms push her breasts up and together. I quickly grabbed a random book my mother left on the front table and used it to cover up my growing erection beneath my sweat pants.
“Sorry. It’s in the kitchen,” pointing to my left, her right.
She turned and walked through the open doorway. I followed behind her. I was about to show her on the wall by the fridge where the phone was, but she found it on her own. She grabbed it off its cradle and started dialling. She looked back at me. “Thanks again. I really appreciate this. So do my feet.”
I nodded, still hiding my erection. I tried to think of other things: baseball, 9/11, my mother hula dancing. It wasn’t helping. It was hard not to look at those curves on her. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead, slid down to her neck, and finally disappeared into the chasm of her breasts.
“Woah. Check out that sweet piece of ass!”
Boner gone, I put the book on the counter and looked at Tony across the kitchen’s island. He was eating an apple obnoxiously loud for someone imaginary. “Seriously, Fatty Matty. I didn’t think a girl would ever come into your house unless it were against her freewill. I wouldn’t worry about covering your boner either. What is that thing, like two inches?”
Angrily, I looked away to ignore him and realized Nikki was talking to me. “-your address? I need to tell the tow truck where to come.”
Tony laughed. “You can tell me where to cum anytime.”
Ignoring the voice, I gave her my address, which she repeated into the phone. It was quiet while she waited for a response. I could hear soft hold music. The crunch of an apple almost made me jump. I looked over at Tony. He put down his apple, held up the ‘okay’ sign with his left hand, and slid his right index finger in and out of the circle.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll be waiting,” Nikki said into the phone before hanging it up. “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. The good news: A tow truck is coming. The bad news: They said it would take a couple of hours. Apparently, they’ve had a really busy weekend and since this is pretty much in the middle of nowhere; they can’t justify dropping everything. I know. . . I'm probably inconveniencing you.”
Tony laughed. “Yeah. You’re cutting into his jacking off time.”
“No. No. No. It’s no inconvenience, really. I was actually kind of lonely with my parents gone and all. I could use the company.”
That perfect smile. “Well, I’m glad I could help then.” She let out a playful laugh that was divine. “If I could just ask for one more tinsy, tiny favor: Can I have a glass of water? It was a long, hot walk.”
“Of course.” I grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and went to the sink. My parents had installed some super-fancy water filtration system that attached to the end of the faucet. Unfortunately, I never learned how to use it since I didn’t drink anything that wasn’t caffeinated and carbonated. After randomly hitting a few buttons, I think I got it working and filled up a glass.
“That’s right,” Tony whispered in my ear. “We don’t want that mouth of hers to get too dry for what you have planned later.”
“Shut up,” I muttered.
“What was that?” Nikki asked.
“Nothing. Nothing,” I covered. “I just said that the faucet was stuck a little, but I got it fixed.” I handed her the glass, which she quickly put to her mouth and sucked down.
“So. . . You like that book?” she asked, setting the glass on the counter.
I didn’t realize what she was talking about until I followed her eyes to the book on the countertop that I had been using to cover my erection: 50 Shades of Grey. My eyes went wide. “No. No. That’s my mom’s book. I. . . I just realized she left it sitting out and I thought I’d put it away for her.”
“That’s nice of you. I read it a while ago. It’s a pretty steamy book. I don’t think I’d leave it sitting out like that. I have my copy tucked in my panty drawer.”
Panty. Drawer.
I must have turned bright red because Nikki quickly said, “Let’s change the subject, okay? Ummm. . . How about you give me a tour of your house? I mean, if you think that would be okay with your parents.”
Tony was at my ear again. “Give her the tour, Matt. Show her your bedroom. Show her your panty drawer.” He burst out laughing.
Asshole.
“My parents won’t mind. They won’t even know you’re here. They shouldn’t be home for hours.”
There’s that smile again.
Chapter Three
Trish set the two glasses down on a table outside the kitchen door. She was not happy. She was hoping for a little drinking, a little foreplay, and then, the main event. What she saw, his clothes thrown all over the floor and his bare feet up on the leather sofa’s arm, was not what she had in mind. If the past was any indication, he probably got started without her.
“Grant, I told you to wait,” she said as she walked over to him. “Don’t you ever listen to me or do you only listen to your-“
She stopped dead in her tracks. Grant’s naked body was still, his eyes glazed over, blood flowed from a large indent in his forehead and puddled on the cushion. She screamed, turned around to run back to the kitchen, but was halted again.
A very tall, muscular man Trish had never seen before stood at the kitche
n door. His matching camo jacket and pants seemed so out of place in her elegant home. He picked up one of the flutes and took a sip of champagne. He lowered the glass and licked his lips, but Trish was too busy staring up at the deep scar running up his bald head to notice. “Mmmmm. Sometimes I do like to kick back and appreciate the finer things in life.” He set the flute down on the table and picked up a crude, handheld sledgehammer that had not been there before. Trish could see blood and bone fragments on the flat end. He pointed it at her, sending a few blood drops her way that struck her face. “Interesting. Now is usually when they start running.”