“You’re creepy, and that’s creepy.”
“I asked her out because she’s attractive. That, and, she’s interesting.”
“Interesting, huh?” He laughed. “That came into play in your decision making? You’re moving on to the ‘interesting chicks’ now?”
“I’m not ‘moving on’ to anything. It just so happens that she’s interesting.”
“Interesting how? Does she dress really fashionable?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. She looks nice.”
“You said she’s interesting. Does she use big words? Carry a cat in her purse? Have a tattoo behind her ear of one of those infinity symbols or a flock of birds flying out of her armpit?”
“She owns a bookstore. She sells books like Fifty Shades of Grey, and stuff like that.”
“No shit?” His gaze lowered. After staring blankly at the sidewalk for a moment, he looked up. “Maybe she’s into being tied up and having shit poked up her butt.”
“Might be.”
“Jesus H. Christ. If she looks like Garber and likes having shit poked in her poop shoot or being slapped with a wooden paddle, she’d be a keeper. Possibilities are endless with a chick like that. I always wanted to hit someone with my cock.” He made a swatting motion with his clenched fist. “If a chick like that let me slap her in the face with my cock, I’d be in fuckin’ heaven.”
“She swallowed my entire cock,” I said. “I was in heaven.”
“Now I know you’re lying,” he said with a laugh. “If anyone ever managed to choke that motherfucker down, you’d tell the world.”
Every male student during my tenure at Plano High had either seen my cock in the locker room or heard a description of it from someone who had. The locker rooms were a torturous place for kids who were different than everyone else.
I was the equivalent of a walking carnival sideshow.
“The world doesn’t care,” I said. “So, I’m telling you.”
“Are you serious? She deepthroated it?”
“Yep.”
“All of it?”
“Yep.”
“How far down did she get?”
“I already told you. All of it.”
He lifted his chin slightly. “Did she touch her lips to your balls? It doesn’t count as a deepthroat if she didn’t. Balls-deep or it was a failed attempt.”
“She smashed her lips against my nuts.”
He spun in a circle, Justin Timberlake style, snapping his fingers as he came to a stop. “She’s got lips like Garber’s?” he asked excitedly. “Big thick fuckers? DSLs?”
“She does.”
“I want to meet this chick,” he blurted.
“Afraid not.”
“Why not?”
“Why would I introduce you to her?”
“I’m your best friend. Best friends do shit like that for each other. Most of ‘em, anyway. It’s pretty standard stuff.”
He was more than my best friend. He was as close to family as any man could ever be. Nonetheless, I shook my head. “When men introduce the woman they’re fucking to their best friend, it sends a message to the woman. It says they’re a part of that man’s life. She’s never going to be a permanent part of my life, so you’re not going to meet her.”
He exhaled a breath of frustration and crossed his arms. “Yeah, you’ve got a point.”
“Maybe we could just happen to go by her bookstore one weekend,” I said. “I might go by there today, but I don’t need you tagging along.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because. I’m planning on seeing if she wants to fuck tonight. I don’t need a third wheel.”
“Does she have any decent looking chicks working there?”
“As a matter of fact, she’s got some chick that works with her that you need to meet. She’s got huge titties.”
His brows raised. “Considering your fucked-up opinion of what’s skinny, I’ll need a description of huge.”
“The size of cantaloupes.”
“Big ones, or those little fuckers that they sell at HEB in the winter?”
Using both hands, I made the shape of a large sphere. “They’re between cantaloupes and soccer balls.”
“Soccer balls?” He arched a brow. “How big is this chick?”
“She’s skinny. A hundred and fifteen pounds, maybe one-twenty.”
“And she’s got tits the size of soccer balls?”
I shrugged. “Give or take.”
“What’s she look like? Medusa? Bitch better not have snakes growing out of her head or any kind of shit like that.”
“She’s got blond hair growing out of her head. Blond-ish. You know that kind of fade shit they do where it goes from brown to blond?”
He gave a nod. “She’s got ‘freak hair’.”
“What?”
“Freak hair.”
“What the fuck is ‘freak hair’?”
“Chicks with hair like that are always freaks in bed, so I call it freak hair. She’ll be a wild piece of ass, guaranteed.”
I gave him a look of disbelief. “Because of her hair?”
“Precisely.”
“So, all girls with dye-jobs are freaks?”
“If they have two-tone hair or if they’ve dyed it a weird color it’s a guarantee, yeah.”
“What’s a weird color?”
“Blue, pink, purple, that weird red, and some of those orangey-blondes.”
“Girls with those hair colors are freaks in bed?”
He gave a crisp nod. “Guaranteed.”
I spit out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”
“What’s the big tittied freak look like? She better not look like a troll.”
“She’s cute. Kind of got a dirty-looking cowgirl thing going on.”
“Dirty, like she didn’t take a bath? Or, dirty like, ‘damn, that’s one sultry-looking bitch’?”
I chuckled. “Did you just say ‘sultry’?”
“Yeah. Sultry. If you’re gonna be fucking a book store owner, you should broaden your vocabulary.”
“It’s broad enough,” I said with a laugh. “She’s the nubile kind of dirty.”
His eyes narrowed. “What the fuck’s that mean?”
“She’s sultry.”
“I want to meet ‘em both,” he said. “Hell, we should just go over there now. You can use my introduction to the ‘nubile cowgirl’ as the reason for stopping by.”
Once every few years, Shawn came up with a good idea. Convinced this was his shining moment for the next two or three years, I gave a nod of approval. “I’ll introduce her to you, as long as you don’t get in my way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m planning on fucking Jo tonight, and I don’t need you getting in my way.”
“No need to worry about me getting in your way.” He chuckled a dry laugh. “If anything, you’ll need to stay out of my way. I’ll be poking my thumb up that sultry cowgirl’s ass before you get the first sentence out of your mouth.”
Sadly, he was probably right.
7
Jo
Jenny laughed so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. “I saw him pulling out of the alley when he came to pick you up. Anyone that drives a fifteen-year-old car that looks that nice is anal-retentive as hell. I bet he just about shit his pants, didn’t he?”
“He really didn’t seem to mind. I insisted he wash it before we ate, though.”
She looked offended. “What? Why?”
“My brother is pretty anal about his car,” I responded. “He always has been. I knew if I’d have thrown up on his car, he’d have washed it immediately. So, I insisted we got through the car wash before we ate.”
“I’ve never thrown up on a date. There’s a few assholes I’d like to have thrown up on, though. You’ve heard that saying, ‘Who pissed in your Cheerios?’, right?”
“I’ve heard people say it, yeah.”
“Well, I kind of pseudo pissed in a guy’s Cheerios
once. That’s as close as I’ve got to barfing on a date’s car.”
With Jenny, nothing shocked me. Even so, I needed to hear the story of how she peed in a guy’s cereal. “Oh my God,” I gasped. “What happened?”
She scrunched her nose. “Do you really want to hear it?”
“Sure.”
“Short version, or long version?”
I looked at my watch. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”
“Long version, it is.” She plucked a copy of LJ Shen’s Scandalous from the display rack. “Payne was his name. You know, in hindsight, I should have known he was going to be a douche just because of the name. You can tell a lot from a guy’s name. Anyway, we were dating at the time. I kept hearing that he was cheating on me. People were telling me over and over that he was screwing my friend’s sister. I was like, whatever. But people kept saying it. So, I got his phone and put one of those text trackers on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“A text tracker. It’s a program that lets you get online and see all the SMS messages on a phone. So, I put the program on his phone, tracked his messages, and in one freaking day I found out he was screwing Bryce’s sister, Karen.”
There would be no worse feeling than finding out the man you thought you were in love with was spending intimate time with another woman. A man capable of having sexual relations with two women wasn’t deserving of either of them. If it happened to me, I’d probably curl up in a ball and die. I felt terrible for Jenny.
“Oh, wow, that’s awful,” I said. “Sorry isn’t enough, but I’m sorry. Was Bryce a friend of yours?”
“He still is. He didn’t know. His sister Karen is another freaking story. She was riding Payne’s dick and talking shit on me while he and I were dating.” She rolled the book into a tube. As she continued speaking, she twisted it tighter and tighter. “The skinny little whore knew we were seeing each other and did it anyway. I should have choked that fucking bitch.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It’s the worst feeling ever. He could have stuck his dick in her nasty twat before school, and then had me suck it after school. Thinking about it made me sick. So, anyway. I always carried a bottle of water in my backpack, and I’d squirt that stuff in it. That flavor stuff. You’re supposed to use like three drops, but it takes half a bottle to make it taste good. You know what I’m talking about, right?”
“Yeah, the MiO drops or whatever?”
She nodded. “I knew because I always had a bottle of colored water in the little mesh pocket that no one would think anything. So, I peed in a cup, poured it into the bottle, and carried it to school in my backpack. My school was one of those that catered to the kids who are ‘gifted’ – the problem kids who are bored in regular schools. Anyway, the school served awesome breakfast, so everyone went into the cafeteria in the mornings. We hung out and ate breakfast until around nine, when school started.”
She glanced at the book, only to find out that she’d all but ruined it. While she tried to flatten the twisted cover, she continued. “So, while he was eating his cereal, I sat beside him like I did every morning. Then, I motioned off in the distance and said, ‘Oh my God, look at what she’s wearing’, and I pointed at some random girl. When he looked, I poured the bottle of piss into his cereal bowl. After he ate half of it, I said, ‘Guess what, asshole?’ He looked at me and said, ‘Why’d you call me an asshole?’. I stood up and said, ‘I know you’ve been fucking Karen, and by the way, I pissed in your Cheerios’. Looking at his cheating ass every day is part of the reason I dropped out.”
“It sucks that he did that to you, but it sounds like you got even.”
“I did. Not with the Cheerios.” She laughed. “But with something else.”
I winced at the thought of her doing anything more. “What did you do?”
“I don’t know if you want to hear it. It’s one of those things that sounded good at the time, but afterward, it seemed kind of psycho.”
I looked at my watch. We didn’t open for ten minutes. “I want to hear it.”
“It’s pretty psycho.”
I grinned. “I really want to hear it, then.”
She placed the tattered book at the top of the display. “When we were dating, he gave me keys to his house. His parents were never home, and my parents were never gone, so I’d go there most days after school while he was at football practice. That’s how his sister and I got to be friends. Anyway, we broke up that morning at breakfast. That day, at lunch, he was sitting with Karen. Like nothing ever happened between us. I thought, ‘You son-of-a-bitch’. You’re not even going to let me mourn, are you?’ So, that night I went to his house, like normal. On the way, I stopped at CVS and got a bottle of Nair. Oh, by the way, he had really nice hair.”
“Holy crap. You didn’t—”
“I did.”
I gasped. “You put it in his shampoo?”
“I mixed it like, I don’t know, half-and-half, yeah.”
“What did it do?”
“Just what you’d think. His hair fell out in fist-sized clumps. His parents thought he had some anxiety disorder associated with our breakup. They had him taking all kinds of tests to try and find out what happened. They figured out later that it must have been a prank in gym class. He ended up shaving his head, which is what I wanted. Everyone laughed at him for a month. It’s what he needed. When I left town, I told him I did it. I thought he needed to know, even if it was five years later.”
“Because you felt guilty?”
She laughed. “No. I didn’t feel guilty at all. He cheated on me. That’s what he gets. He’s lucky I didn’t stab him.”
“Oh.”
“So, that’s my story.” She shrugged. “It’s not barfing on top of a car, but it’s close.”
“Kind of. One was intentional, and one wasn’t.”
“You’re telling me you barfed solely from the jitters?”
“My anxiety got the best of me.”
“I’m glad I didn’t make you barf during the job interview. That would have been awkward.”
Jenny and I hit it off the instant we met. When she applied for the job, she told me she liked my outfit, commented on my glasses, and then told me she loved my hair. She talked a mile a minute, never shut up, and seemed sincere. I was comfortable around her from the moment we first spoke.
“I was comfortable around you,” I assured her. “From the instant we met.”
“That’s funny. If anyone makes you nervous, you’d think that list would include me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m loud and obnoxious.”
“I’m most comfortable around outspoken people,” I admitted. “Quiet people make me itch. I never know what they’re thinking.”
“Uhhm.” She gestured toward the door. “We probably ought to unlock the door. What time is it?”
I looked at my watch. “Crap!”
Each month, we held a contest. Every purchased book throughout the month counted as an entry. On the last Saturday we picked ten entrants at random, with each winner receiving a signed paperback from one well-known Indie author.
The participating authors were selected in advance. The entire month was spent promoting their social media accounts, most recent book, and backlist. The contest was a win-win, driving traffic to the bookstore, and to the author.
As soon as Jenny unlocked the door the women rushed past her and toward the corkboard. One of the women screamed. Another followed. A third shrieked, and then things went quiet.
“Sounds like there’s only three winners,” Jenny said. “I feel bad when the afternoon crowd doesn’t have a chance.”
“I like it when it’s spread out throughout the day, too. It makes it more fun for everyone.”
“Speaking of fun, you need to tell me what happened after you washed the car.”
I hadn’t told her about the blowjob yet, but I intended to. I’d never had a girlfriend I could talk to and doing so with her was t
herapeutic. As far as she knew, I barfed on Tyson’s car and went home afterward.
“I will.” I turned toward the box of signed books. “Actually, I’ve got a lot more to tell you about.”
While I struggled to pull the signed books from the box they were tightly packed in, Jenny laughed.
I looked up. “What?”
“Maybe you could get the FedEx guy to tell me.”
I gave her a look. “Why would I do that?”
“Because.” She craned her neck and peered toward the door. “He just pulled up outside.”
8
Tyson
I scanned her from head to toe. Her hair was up, and her glasses sat low on the bridge of her nose. Wearing a pair of black low-waisted dress pants and a matching tight-fitting sleeveless top, she seemed taller.
I normally found the type of pants she was wearing rather unflattering. That particular pair accentuated her perfectly round butt, leaving nothing to the imagination. With Shawn at my side and my eyes fixed on her ass, I sauntered in her direction.
“Jesus,” Shawn said. “That cowgirl’s sexy as fuck.”
As always, Shawn’s tone was three notches louder than it should be, leaving everyone within earshot aware of his intentions, regardless of how quietly he thought he was talking.
“Keep your thoughts to yourself,” I whispered. “She’ll hear you.”
“She’s a freak,” he responded. “If she hears me it’ll turn her on.”
I covered my mouth with my hand and feigned a yawn. “You’re an idiot.”
“She’s a freak. I’m tellin’ ya, if she hears me, it’ll make her clit tingle.”
“If she hears you, she’ll think you’re a douchebag.”
“Whatever.” He glanced at the women. “Nerdy chick looks like Garber for sure. Sexy ass lips on that bitch, god dayum.”
I turned toward the bookcase and plucked a book from the shelf.
“What are you doing?” Shawn asked.
I thumbed through the pages, stopping at a completely random section. “I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up,” I whispered.
The Fed Sex Man: Hot Contemporary Romance Page 6