3 comments/ 7210 views/ 1 favorites All Wrong and Backasswards By: PayDay Author's Note: This is my story, I wrote it, stealing is lame. If you don't like it, don't read it. All comments, votes, favorites, and feedback (even the bad) is appreciated. This is the whole story at once (11 parts, no chapters). All characters are eighteen or over. DISCLAIMER: This story is purposely out of order, and has been re-submitted for edits and numbering, so all feedback may have been valid at the time of original posting. Each section is numbered if you want to read the story in order. Sex is @ part 11. Hope you enjoy: All Wrong and Backasswards OR 'Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving: A Cinderella Story *** 8 As wrong as it was for it to be happening, Annabelle gave the best blow jobs. No other woman, of the few there were for the man since her, ever compared to her abilities. In the six years since he had been with her last, she had learned some new tricks. The twisting wrist, sliding in opposite, and colliding, directions with her mouth, for instance. Somehow she had learned to roll her tongue while bobbing her head. Apparently she also learned a few tactics with her teeth versus her lips. "Oooohhbellle....." That move definitely got the groan out of Fredrick as he leaned against the cold wall at the back of the local bar. She was sucking his balance along with his rod. For the life of him, he could not figure out how this woman, who dumped him, was back and suddenly gave better head, or why he was even letting her. He was forgetting why he cared; he had seen the drool on her jacket. Fredrick could see her shoulder, just to the right of the drool from his vantage, moving with a vengeance beneath her long dark hair - longer than it had been before. She was rubbing her slit at a frantic pace, trying to mutual in unison as she dripped onto the asphalt from under her skirt. Her right hand, the one on his shaft, hooked a thumb below his sack, and began to pull it and roll it in time with her strokes. Time was up, no one could see, and they were just out of the edge of the parking lamp above. "Belle, I love you..." Fredrick knew she was a swallower, and she had been watching his face the whole time. Her yellow eyes reflected in the night; even when he was not looking, he could feel the heat of their glare. She pulled of his wet manhood - hand halfway and still holding his balls - and spoke. "I know you do, I'm glad you're ready for me now," her mouth was back on his piece instantaneously after her remark. Each of his hands snatched a hairful of her soft mane, bunching, grabbing, and pulling it all at once as he forced himself down her swallowing throat. Annabelle had two fingers deep within, flicking her own clit with her thumb as he gushed into her mouth; the couple orgasmed together in tandem; soon after she was grabbing her breasts - over her coat - with her own hands, and he the wall for support. Annabelle had always loved the hair pull before she came. Fredrick started to slide down the brick-face, 'weak knees' an understatement. She was sucking six years of unnecessary heartache out of him. When his head cleared, he finally felt Annabelle tucking his shrinking dick into his pants, and zipping him up. She spoke as she latched his belt. "We should go to your place. I want to see what you've done with yourself, since you're ready now. I'll follow you." Fredrick walked Annabelle to her car, the same car she used to drive. When her keys hit the lock, he spun her around, pressed her to the car, and kissed her with passion. It was the first kiss from her that felt utterly connected. She was not lying this time around, and she had parked right next to his car. It was the last thing she had seen of him - his odd old car - the day she left in the snow. *** 2 "What the hell is wrong with you this morning?" It was actually near 11:00 AM, but they were fresh out of bed. Fredrick was loading the laundry into the machine as she stood in the unfinished doorway of the unfinished kitchen of the unfinished house. It was Sunday; he always did laundry on Sunday. Annabelle had helped him for the past four months, since he had met her, and since they had become friends. Well, 'more than friends' since two weeks after meeting. "What the hell is wrong with me? Are you fucking stupid?" Annabelle was in a huff as she pushed aside the damp hanging laundry in the kitchen to pierce a vision his way. They had spent the night drinking. "Did he not remember what I said? What we did?" That was all she could wonder. Despite wonder, she did not care, and was now furious as he gave her the 'I don't understand why you are mad' look. Annabelle was out the door before he had a chance to finish loading the washer or put pants on. Annabelle should have left hours ago, she should have left last night; one of her other boyfriends had called five times to try and get her to come back, and once this morning as well. She knew Fredrick loved her, but in her mind, he only loved what she let him know. He was not ready, not in her opinion. He never called her bluffs; he never accused her of the obvious; this was becoming a problem. He only ever tried to make her and everyone else happy - never himself. A few times he had asked her about some inconsistencies, but always in a factual nature, she had lied in return; Fredrick believed Annabelle lies, or so she thought. Fredrick only ever called once, only ever left a message; he never tried to track her down, or pin her down. He never demanded of her, he never asked her "Who was that?" when she whispered into the phone or left the room with it. In fact, he never spoke while she was on the cell; in the car, when she received a call, he stayed silent, unconsciously aiding her schemes. He trusted her; that was the problem; he wasn't a boy like her other friends, no, he was a young man; he was more a man every day she was around him. He had given her a key to his home the day after they first slept together, and he had made her wait for sex. That's why she stayed, that's why she left; she hated the pain she caused to him, she hated the way he made her feel. Fredrick made her feel wonderful, as if she were finally worth something. At least, that is, until last night and this morning when he had failed to man up. He had angered her without intention; hurt her without intention; he had bared a part of his soul in unison with her - and Annabelle was frightened of Fredrick's dark side. There were bruises from his strength, tear marks from her own. Fredrick though, was so much darker than her; Fredrick had acted, in the last twenty-four hours, against every assumption she had made since she had met him. She only had a thin coat, a hat, and a backpack. Her sneakers were too airy for the snow, deep fluff that fell during the night and pre-dawn early morning. "At least let me drive you! Belle! What the hell is going on?!" He yelled to her in his boxers, all white trash, Annabelle now halfway down the street. By the way she held her head and scrunched into herself as she walked, he knew she was not cold; Annabelle was crying. He had picked Annabelle up last night, at her request, only a few hours after a fight. This was the first weekend where he did not have to help anyone. This was his first two-day-off weekend since they had met, as he usually only had Sundays and late evenings off. His future required work. It was only her third day with him since she had said: "We can't be friends anymore." This third time, she had decided to: 'Get drunk and sleep over.' The other two 'days' were really only evenings, only a few hours: A family visit for one, the other a movie together on the couch. Fredrick thought they were 'back where they were' after she said they were nothing at all. She shot him that infamous finger and screamed, stopping one foot as her body scrunched together. "Don't you fucking follow meee!" the last word came out in depressed agony; Annabelle almost fell to the ground before barely continuing to walk; she never turned around. He stood in only his underwear and nearly knee deep in snow, fallen snow steaming from his body; he stood there for minutes after she turned the corner. He never had a chance to tell her he loved her. He never had a chance to tell her that he knew she was sleeping around, that he did not care she was a cheater. Fredrick never had a chance to try and work out the fuddles in their relationship. It was a week before Valentine's, and he had already made her a gift. *** 9 Annabelle had her hands in his pants as he was unlocking the door. "What happened to the house?" She was breathing into his ear, whispering on her tip toes. Fredrick could see the steam of her breath pass his vision in the dim light of the lamp post. "Uuuuuhhh.. I sold it.. ooooh.. Taxes are insane, rent's cheaper." "Good, that place was a shithole." She was still whispering, still rubbing him off, but he had managed to unlock the door. Fredrick knew she only stayed with him in that shitty neighborhood, in that shithole of a house, because he was there. He had known all along, but it was what he could afford on his own, then; it was the beginning of a life he thought he had to lead, until he met her. Annabelle slid her hand out of his pants, and bounded up the dark stairs when the door opened. Fredrick flicked the switch for the stairwell light to the small second floor apartment by the time she was halfway up. He took her coat when he reached the top of the stairs, placing it in the closet while she flicked every other switch and explored the home. She still moved the same way; she still studied in the same way; she still made him feel the same way. The 'Annabelle Effect' that he loved so much, her natural vibe that made men love her and do as she asked, still teased his being. The 'Effect' had not drawn him to her; he had a natural resistance to it, but he still appreciated the feeling. The smarts and attitude - the person - below, that had made him love her. Fredrick saw past fronts, he always could; in the past four years, he had gotten better at it; his previous flaws that she had exposed, and exploited, no longer existed. Her nose ring was gone as well. "You feel different. You have a child, don't you? Nono.. Wait... Someone got the best of you, didn't they?" He spoke to her as she studied a poster from his old home - now framed. Fredrick was leaning in the doorway to his living room with crossed muscular arms when she turned to look at him. "You did... There was never a boy, a man like you." Annabelle was not looking at him as she spoke. She was looking at the picture of herself next to the calendar to his immediate left; herself from six years ago in jeans and a lacy white bra, holding his old pet rabbit. Fredrick was about to speak, to say what needed to be said; Annabelle was faster and sharper - she always was - and that fact always turned him on. "I know, we both handled it wrong. It's done. We start again, ok?" The look in his eyes as she finished was the same as it had been years ago; the same as it was in the bar when she caught his eye; he had the look of 'I think you are the most wonderful thing in the world' all across his face. Annabelle accepted it as the truth; she would trust him for once. "Do you want to watch a movie...? Something to eat? Or you want a beer...?" Fredrick was actually at a loss. He wanted to sleep with her, to make love, but he didn't want to ruin what he had just found again. He didn't want to just fuck; he wanted this entire woman again, for once. Annabelle was on him and pulling off his fleece and t-shirt as the thought crossed his mind. *** 5 Fredrick only randomly saw her, and all but twice she was in her car. The first time was a month after she had left in the snow. It was only a month because he did not leave his house, or bed, for anything but work. That's generally what happens when a person of a certain disposition loses everything they truly want. She was at work that first time he had seen her since the day in the snow. He had not expected her to be there, but she was. He had only come to see his friend Dave, who also worked there, though at the fuel pumps. She had changed her shift. They did not speak as he stood in grungy, filthy, work clothes; she only rang up his cup of java, never looking him in the eye. He looked down at her, but only for their height differences. He had tried to speak everything at once, only a single syllable came out. Annabelle looked like she wanted to cry, and she had gotten a nose piercing. Fredrick simply left, it was more than he could handle, and too soon. He only waved to Dave a short distance away. A week or so later, he passed her on the road. Then a month after that, she was in her car in a parking lot; they had made eye contact that day as well, both looking down as she was about to leave and he had just arrived. Just when he would get Annabelle out of his head, he would see her again. This continued for years, they both lived in the same area; the surprise appearances always somewhere unexpected. A few times he had seen a man in the car, in the passenger's seat. Annabelle had almost always let Fredrick drive her so that she could change the radio station every two seconds with more ease. He did not know, but he was the only one she ever let drive her vehicle. He had also sworn she was on the Internet, nude and not in her car. He knew those eyes, he could never forget them. He knew her moles, their placement seared into his brain. Then again, he may have been projecting. He was more than likely projecting, as every restaurant they had been together in seemed hollow without the arguments about who would pay. That was his first clue to her philandering, among many others; the money issue always set off alarms in his mind, the radio as well. He knew she oozed sex and men fell at her feet. He enjoyed the jealousy he caused when she was with him. Every man in the room always wanted her, their own dates and wives be damned. Fredrick also knew it came with a price. He still remembered the first fight they had, one of three in those four months. It was about how they were not dating, and he was just some guy. "You're not my boyfriend, even if you think you are. I always pay." Annabelle was furious at him, and he could not figure out why. "That's not true, and I never said I was. I go out of my way to not let you pay because it's the right thing to do," Fredrick's father had taught him to take care of women. "Bullshit," the phrase from her triggered every part of his cheater warning system. His brain was telling him she was lying, and that she paid all of the time for other men; that other men tried to pin her down when he just wanted any time she could spare as often as possible. If she always paid, they had nothing to offer her and she could make a clean break. He held it in; he had no proof beyond his own actions, nothing to fight with in a fight that should not be happening. Everything had gone strange that day, especially since after they left her mother's house. Apparently her mother had asked her "What's Freddy to you? I see him all the time?" "Mom, we're just.. friends..." Annabelle hated her mother; she had no choice but to be there. "Ok Anna, but you could use a man, and he's the only one I've ever see you with since you decided to stay with us..." "He's just a friend. I have to go," Fredrick was waiting outside, and she still had to figure out how to explain why he saw her last night when she claimed to be home. He had not made a big deal about it, instead mentioning it casually: "I swear I saw you earlier when I was chatting with Dave, before I came to pick you up..." He did not wait for an answer from her, as if he knew. He never brought it up again either. By the time Annabelle was in the car, after speaking with her mother, she was making jokes about it with Fredrick. He did not respond in kind, instead he spoke seriously to her. "Well, I don't want to say 'what are we' so," that was their private joke for silly boys, "what do you think I am?" He put her on the spot, the only time he ever did such a thing. "I told her the truth, that you're just a friend." That statement seemed to agitate Fredrick, but he did not push. Instead he casually spoke on a new topic, explaining how he had to help someone all day Saturday, the next day, starting very early. He was ruining her plans to have fun by being a friend to someone else. None of the other 'boys' she went with ever did such things. That's what made her leave for two weeks. ...and then he received her cold call. She had told him to leave her alone, so he did so, despite his pain. She called him, acted as if nothing had happened, said she needed to talk, and then came over. "Look, I still want to be your friend," Fredrick could not stand her use of the word. He knew the difference, but he kept his mouth shut. "...and don't give me that 'I think you are the most wonderful thing in the world' look either, 'cause I'm not..." She was trying to tell him, she tried all the time. "Well, I think you are... Belle, I really do," He wanted to tell her he loved her, that it wasn't like she thought, and that he was not stupid, but he was trying not to scare her away at the same time; he stayed as silent as he could. Fredrick was the only person to call her Belle as no one else ever asked past what she told them; the only other. He had asked to see her license as proof to the use of his moniker, he had thought she was joking and he was trying to find out her last name at the same time. "...but I'm not." Annabelle left it at that, and they watched a bad movie - their favorite kind. They lay together on the couch, Fredrick on his back, Annabelle on his front while he slowly massaged her, never making an actual pass. He was just glad to be with her, as always. The next day was Saturday, and for once, he had no where to be. Before they fell asleep that night, together, naked, and after sex she initiated, Annabelle asked him to drive with her and meet her father and step mother; her father, the preacher. Her hopes were that he would put up the front she had seen him use. The 'I'm a stand-up individual who goes to church' front he had used for his own parents. She was the preacher's daughter, and Annabelle was raised the same as Fredrick; far too religious and leading a double life: One life for church and family, one life for freedom in excess; dirty, dirty excess. Her level of freedom was greater than his, though not by choice. He had to pay bills, he was growing up fast at twenty-three; Fredrick had a mortgage, insurance, maintenance costs, etcetera -- and he was doing it on his own. She was free because her father had kicked her out of the house at nineteen when he had heard enough rumors of her deeds; though he still paid her bills and her rent was free with her mother. Stability was available to her, especially with her paycheck; her bills were only a cell phone and gasoline. She had met Fredrick three weeks after she moved to this state. Fredrick, when he met her father, instead chose to be who he really was, just as he was to her mother and step-father. Her return had brought him confidence in who he was, and her mother thought he was great. It was the worst thing Fredrick could have done, short of the pinch to her perfectly round - opposite of the freshly tattooed - ass cheek; and that was barely noticed by her little brother. The look she shot him when he did it was pure fire; pure: 'stop motherfucker' and stop now. He did not realize his errors until they left; not fully until around 1:00 PM the next day. Annabelle had him start up the car; he was going to drive home. She and her father stood at the garage exit; the stern look of her father, and the sad state of her posture, said it all even though it did not fully register in Fredrick's mind. All Wrong and Backasswards She did not speak for the majority of the long ride back. Fredrick could tell something was wrong as she only spoke to answer questions of which exits to take, no matter how hard he tried. The phone call came while they drove over a bridge, and back into his home state. Fredrick only heard her end of the conversation. He was not listening, not really, and she only said "uh-huh," and "uh-uh," one time each. Shortly after the bridge and the call, they were using the ramp to get on the highway. There was a car in the merge lane, and it was causing a problem. Instead of moving over into the empty one of two lanes to allow Annabelle's car to merge, it continued in ignorance. Fredrick was left with one of two choices: Come to a complete stop on a highway on-ramp with cars behind him, or press the gas enough to downshift the automatic and accelerate ahead of the ignorant driver. He chose to accelerate. It was the wrong choice. "You never fucking listen to me! You fucked up my car and I told you not to!" Fredrick had actually done nothing wrong in his mind, he could have floored it, he could have broken the speed limit; he only did what she herself had done earlier in the day and would have done under the circumstances. They were supposed to spend the night together, instead, she had him drop her off at her house, and drive his own car home; by himself and confused. Two hours later, she called. "Can you come get me, then maybe we can hit a liquor store, maybe I could spend the night?" Fredrick assumed the fight was over. He assumed she had calmed down. He had assumed she wanted to drink away her family problems. He assumed she just wanted someone to make her feel better. Otherwise, she would have called some other boy. He would not truly understand what was going on until she left in the snow, and the kid who thought he was her boyfriend started banging on his front door two hours later, screaming. *** 3 "Get the fuck out here you son of a bitch! You fucking rapist!" Slick was mad and beating on the old door. His name was not really Slick; that was his last name: Slicky. Annabelle always made fun of him - her little puppy dog - it made Fredrick think she was sleeping with him. The fact that Slick was at the door, and accusing Fredrick of being a rapist, only proved the notion. Fredrick opened the door and stared down the shorter fellow with ease. The kid, only eighteen, was half his size. Fredrick knew he could mop any floor with Slick, he also knew the poor kid was being duped. "How else could she protect her position?" he thought, surprised he had not seen this coming. "Come on in, Slick," Fredrick was waving him in, not at all intimidated. "Fuck you, rapist. Get your fucking ass out here NOW." Slick was clenching his fists; Fredrick could see the fear in the kid's eyes; Slick was trying to be a man for a woman he loved, a woman that he had no idea about, or what she was capable of. "Stop, Slick. Calm down and listen. She's cheating on you. You and me both are one of many. Do you think I kidnapped her and brought her here? Then let her go? Why didn't she call the cops?" " 'Cause she's fucking scared of you! I picked her ass up and hour ago! She was freezing and crying! She said you tied her up and shit!" "Well, that's true, but it was not all my idea..." It wasn't his idea in the first place. Annabelle had asked him only hours ago, he obliged as it seemed kinky. As soon as she said stop, he did. That's when things suddenly got weird. "Lying fucking asshole!" Slick took a swing at Fredrick. It was a slow swing in Fredrick's opinion, easily dodged. Slick's fist hit the old, solid door; Fredrick heard Slick's hand crunch. "Would you relax, Slick, and come in? Want some coffee?" All logic, reason, and morals said that the poor boy had been lied to. Slick's hand was also swelling and bleeding. "No I fucking don't! She saw me last night and told me she was going to see you to tell you to leave her alone!" "Oh, so that was you that called on the way home from her parents?" "She said she went by herself! She couldn't talk 'cause she was driving!" "...and she only said 'uh-huh' and 'uh-uh' right?" Fredrick was still totally relaxed while Slick had become totally stunned from both pain and words. "Why don't you come in, kid, and let's talk." Five years makes all the difference when you are under thirty. "...she said you never went..." Slick looked as if he were going to cry. *** 10 Annabelle always loved to sex with the lights on, (yup) undressing herself as she and Fredrick were lip locked at the foot of his king sized bed. The room was painted the same color as Annabelle's eyes; the closet accent wall, to her back, was the color of Annabelle's hair - burgundy. She forcefully broke the kiss, pushing him to fall sitting onto the bed. Annabelle stood before him in a bra and panty set, similar to the one she was wearing in the picture with the bunny. Fredrick could see the moles and he knew it was her on the Internet. When she unclasped her bra, he was sure it was. Annabelle's bare breasts were still as perfect as he remembered, better only because he gazed upon them once again. Her body had always been perfect, her choice words had always been 'pussy' and 'dick' during sex. She was a devil in bed; all taker, all fantasy. "I want you to lick my pussy," it was one of her favorite things, and Fredrick's tongue was almost as good as a woman's. "No." Fredrick looked stern despite the topless dream girl. "My house. My rules." "..wha..." Annabelle was taken aback; he seemed so remorseful and understanding the entire night. She was confused, dumfounded at his sudden stern attitude and strength. She wanted his tongue; she was imagining it with his member in her mouth earlier at the bar, wishing there were two or three Fredricks at once. Annabelle knew there was only one. "No talking now, you are too naked for me to listen, just nod 'yes' or 'no' and you look beautiful by the way." Fredrick was about to lay it all out. "Thanks, I mean..." Annabelle nodded 'yes' to him. "Ok, so, the rules. You are going to the doctor, don't worry, it's on me. You are getting a full check-up, the works. You do that, and I will lick that pussy again, I swear it, ok?" Annabelle knew it was worth it, and she knew she was clean even though she had been around; she knew what his tongue was worth, and at least she would get his sneaky fingers and big dick. Fredrick was the only man she ever slept with unprotected, unless it was a shoot; she never told him. Annabelle nodded 'yes' to him in return, she thought he could not see the action, as his attention was focused on her supple tits. At least his tongue would be on her nipples... "If you sleep with anyone else, other than me, you use a condom? Got it?" Fredrick was losing it; she was playing with the waistband of her panties and rubbing herself down below. "I'm serious, you don't even have to let me know when, just use a condommmmm..... " Annabelle had nodded 'yes' and then dove to lick his hard chest as she unbuttoned his pants; they would talk about it later as she was too horny to argue. Fredrick immediately palmed her both her rear and a perfect melon at the same time, as soon as they were in reach. More than all else, he was amazed she had agreed, Annabelle hated condoms, and had even yelled at him once for their use. His sneaky fingers were on her clit and mastering it before she had his pants off. *** 4 "When you figure out what you're running from, Belle, give me a call." He hung up the phone, ending the voicemail. He was leaning back against the wall and sitting on his queen sized bed. Slick had left a short while ago; Fredrick sat upon the bed, contemplating since. He outwardly monologue'd his thoughts, holding out a finger with each statement, as if counting by hand. "Maximum of 6 guys... that I know of." "She's a liar, but she doesn't lie..." "That means her dad kicked her out..." "Then she's pissed about last night... but why?" "That means she has to lie to everybody... shit." "Still worth it," he said lastly, seconds later, just as the phone rang in chorus. He looked at the caller I.D. It was Annabelle. "Hey Belle," Fredrick did not receive a response, he continued, "...so, your little puppy dog, I mean Slick, I mean your boyfriend was just here. I think he broke his hand." "Don't you get it?" As soon as Annabelle uttered her response, he knew they were on speaker phone. "Get what? That you are a cheater, and you were using me only because I chose to believe your bull?" "That you raped me, asshole." Annabelle sounded quite pissed, in fact, Fredrick had never heard her so angry. "How do you figure? 'Cause we got drunk and fucked? What's wrong with getting drunk and having sex with your friend?" "You fucked my ass. I fucking knew it as soon as I woke up. What, you thought I wouldn't know?" "You asked me to..." She was pissed about something she had asked for, drunk or not. This phone call was just a show; Fredrick would dance the monkey. "...don't you remember?" "I was passed out you sick fuck, and then you stripped me down and fucked my ass. Didn't you? Yes or no?!" "That's not what happened... I loved you, I thought you-" Fredrick could not have been more confused, or more interrupted. This was all news to him, and one hell of a performance for the audience. "Did you fuck my ass! Yes Or No?!!" Annabelle was screaming wrath. Fredrick was definitely on speaker phone, he could tell. She had definitely gotten naked and begged him to eat her pussy. She had definitely been wide awake during the entire love session, the best and wildest of Fredrick's entire life. She had definitely passed out into seizures as they came together, screaming in unison. He was definitely buried in her ass when he came. They had both been drunk, but he would never forget that night, he couldn't, not that, and surely not the look on her face. Fredrick was not a liar; he knew the truth, so did she. His answer was only to the last question, not the previous two-parter. "Yes." He heard "Oh my go-" and "Fuck you!" at the same time, followed by a click. He knew the voice; it was her 'best' friend Jenny; the one she hated and talked trash on every time Fredrick and Annabelle were together. They used to joke at how Jenny smelled like fish. He sat alone, in the dark, on his bed, until he had to go to work on Monday. He called her cell at 7:00 AM. When she didn't answer, he left a message: "I'm sorry, Belle, I don't really know what's going on... for sure anyway. Could you give me a call? I don't really want to fight. I just want to talk, I'm not mad at you. Ok, uh.. bye." Fredrick wanted the chance to tell her he definitely did not care. His manic self crazed his mind for the next thirty days; she did not call back this time and he left only the one message. It was also the first time she did not return his call since they had met. *** 6 "Man, I'ma sooo gonna fuck this chick. Man, I got game," Mike always thought he was such a player. Any woman worth sleeping with would easily see through his ploys. Fredrick mostly let him boast as the stood at the bar, in the corner. Fredrick hated coming here. He did this for Mike. He hated the night before Thanksgiving. All the drinks were overpriced. All the people who he was glad not to see anymore generally seemed to appear on this night; most were hoping to get laid and wanting to talk bullshit about their perfect lives. "Maybe it's not a game, Mike? Maybe you could treat them like, I don't know, people?" Fredrick hated the eyes he felt. Tens of pairs, he was candy for the voyeurs due to his height and features; his looks were the sole that's why Mike brought him. The girls would come to Fredrick, he would brush them off most of the time, and Mike picked up the spoils. "Man, Fred, you need to get into it!" Mike was dancing at the bar, "..just 'cause four bitches in a row all ended up using you.. Well that don't mean shit man. You just need some pussy." Mike was proud of himself; he had four numbers for later on and a DTF for that night - whenever he decided to leave. "I don't need 'pussy' man," he was mocking Mike, "I need understanding and acceptance... They only used me because I let them..." Fredrick felt odd for no reason after he spoke; all but one pair of eyes were gone to his senses and he could feel the heat. "What? Where is she?" Mike saw his friend react. Fredrick only did that face when the best of the best were around, and he was now searching the floor. Fredrick was tall enough to see over most heads, and as he did, he also felt too old for the place at only twenty-nine. Everyone in the large space looked like they were dressed for a prom, or in label wear to impress a high school class; godawful fuzzy boots and hooded sweatshirts. Everyone in the space except for her, and she was staring his way with that same old slight smile. He had not seen that smile since the morning before she left in the snow. It was plastered to her face while he stared. "No, fucking, way." Fredrick almost felt like he would cry, maybe throw up. He sat on his barstool - more like plopped - as he felt his knees go weak and his head go light. "What? What the fuck, Freddy? What's up?" Mike was worried when his friend fell into his stool, went pale, and then slammed his second of the night; a beer that had been three-quarters full and on the bar for two hours. He had not seen her in passing for at least a year, and she was totally from his mind. He could not have been more surprised to see Annabelle. "Fuck it. Now or never. See you later, Mike," Fredrick was going to talk to her, here, now. He didn't care if she was alone or not. He knew it would not matter. "...I guess, man... later..." Mike decided that if his wingman was leaving, then he would go find his DTF. *** 1 "Hey, Dave, slow day?" It obviously wasn't, Fredrick could tell as his friend ran around. "Yeah, like turtles..." Dave was always sarcastic and self deprecating. "I actually caught a snake today. A little guy. ya' know, since you want to talk about reptiles. It's in a can, in my car," Fredrick kicked a thumb to his odd old car, the thing that should be all rust and not running. "That's cool..." Dave was stupid busy, and he didn't care about snakes; Dave was a married cat person. Fredrick was casually following his friend, best friend, around the station as Dave worked, leaning on this and that while the other chored. The outside shift had just changed, the inside store shift was in the process. The friends were casually chatting when the beauty walked out of the store and to her car with the out-of-state tags, then back inside the building after grabbing a bag. "woah... Dave man, who's that?" Fredrick could feel her vibe even at this distance; he knew the feeling, it was one of his favorite things. "Oh?" Dave looked up to the closing door. "Oh." he hunched. "That's Anna, she just started last week." Dave never stopped moving and filling cars and he suddenly looked quite sullen. "Huh.. like the song..." Fredrick was quiet for a second or ten. "...and you didn't tell me because??" Fredrick was still following Dave, and still in his grungy, filthy, work clothes; the 'sexy' work clothes as he called them, tattered and stained brand names. He had stopped to chat on his way home from work, as he often did with his best friend, they had grown up together. At this point, Fredrick's eyes were only looking through the glass and into the store. "Because she'll eat you alive, Freddy, and that's your type. Man she'll ruin you, don't do it.." "Let me get back to you on that, I need a cup of coffee." Fredrick was already walking towards the door to convenience. "Fuck." Dave new trouble when he saw it, and the minivan full of children learned a new word. Fate had Fredrick off early that day; fate had made Annabelle stay a few minutes later. "Hey, Jennny. How are you?" Fredrick knew everyone that worked here on every shift except the morning. He made his way to the coffee counter as the 'mystery' Anna must have been in the back. "Oh hey, Freddy. I'm good," soon to be Fishy Jen replied as she played with registers and machines at the counter, randomly writing things down onto a clipboard. As busy as the outside was, the inside was empty, as if on purpose. "So I see you have some new help-" Fredrick had finished preparing his beverage, and was turning to look Jenny's way. This 'Anna' of whom he had been speaking, was directly in front of him. Her vibe was insanely powerful up close. Fredrick could feel it's strength, but he knew what it was. "Hi," Anna was holding out her hand, "you're name's Freddy?" "Uh.. woah.. Hi, uh.. Yeah, Fredrick, and you are...?" Her looks, even in the cheap uniform, were getting to him; 'Effect' or not, she was still beyond attractive. "Name's Anna, nice to meet you," she was still holding out her soft delicate fingers. He took them tenderly with his own rough, dirty, beat-up-from-work-and-looking-arthritic hand that was not holding his Styrofoam cup. "Anna? Or Anne? Or, um.. Annabelle?" Anna looked intrigued at his guesses. She could not believe he was asking questions, that he was resisting her wiles for the sake of information. "Yup, Annabelle." Her smile was what a smile should look like. Fredrick realized he was still holding her hand and let go quickly. "No way, you're just saying that because I did. Prove it or I will think you are a liar." Fredrick looked almost amused. Annabelle thought he was funny, and handsome, and perfect for some friendly fun. Annabelle spun around in place, her cropped hair swinging, and ran to the back. A moment later, she was holding her license out to him. "See for yourself, big guy." "No shit... well, Belle, it's nice to meet you," Fredrick spoke as he handed her back her ID. Annabelle had frozen, though, and her eyes were shimmering. Out of nowhere, she shook her head and snatched away the small laminated document. She was nineteen, and now he knew her birthday and last name. "So what do you do, Freddy?" The shimmer was gone; the 'Effect' was back at full power. "Well, lots of things... Today I was a snake wrangler, actually..." "I loooove snakes! What kind is it?" Annabelle knew boys were liars, she knew boys were crude. She was setting him up for an age old ploy to test his might. "Uh..." Fredrick's head tilted to the side, and he smiled Annabelle's expression. "It's a trouser snake." It was a good old joke, Fredrick knew it, and he thought she would just roll her eyes and they could continue. "Oh yeah? What's a trouser snake? Can I see it?" Annabelle could have been an actress with how confused and honest she appeared to be. She knew, he knew she knew, she was hoping he would take the bait. "Uh...? nevermind...? It's actually a little rat snake, he's kind of cute, but he's a bit mean. It's out front in my car if you want to take a look. Well, I think it's a he..." "Ok, great!" Annabelle wanted to see his car, and she was in disbelief that he did not take her bait; he was the only boy who had not for the entire length time in which she had known what boys were and up until that point. Fredrick was different; he had hooked her, without intention, on his own line - without bait. Fredrick had effected (yup) Annabelle, and she was an sucker for new. "Don't worry about it, Freddy," soon to be Fishy Jen said to him as he walked to the counter to pay. "Oh, ok, thanks, Jenny. See you tomorrow," Annabelle followed him out the door to his car, parked feet away. "This is your car?" Annabelle was stunned as he walked to the passenger's door, opened it, and pulled out a large coffee can. All Wrong and Backasswards "Yeah, I like things that are different, and special," Fredrick hoped she caught his drift; she did, almost appearing enthralled, but he could not be sure. This woman was different from the others. "Oh! He is cute!" The small snake was jumping at the opening to the can, mouth wide as it did. Without fear, Fredrick reached in and picked it up. The little thing latched onto his thumb with it's mouth, and wrapped around his hand, but only once, as it was small and his hand quite large. Fredrick did not flinch. "You can pet my snake if you want..." Fredrick was smiling wide, he had always loved innuendo. His love for it drifted away at her laughter. He had found a new love. "Mind if I give you a call sometime? Maybe we could hang together? I would love to be friends with you..." Fredrick was making his move as she touched the head of the reptile with one of her dainty fingers. The snake was still biting Fredrick's thumb; it appeared as if Fredrick did not notice. *** 11 Annabelle was taking, taking all of his shaft once, and again while rubbing herself with her own fingers. He could feel her spit puddling on his pubes as he lay on his back. "You've gotten better at that..." At his words, she popped off his rod. "Thanks, so can we fuck now?" She was asking sexy, and she was gorgeous enough to make it too sexy for most to handle. "No." "..wha...?" Annabelle was dripping down her legs, still gripping him at his base, and stunned at his denial; once again, amazed at his might, she was ever time she saw it. "We can make love if you want. You save that 'fucking' for the boys." Fredrick reached into his nearby desk drawer, and pulled out a condom. Annabelle took it from his hands and unrolled fully without covering his the whole. As soon as she positioned herself above it, he had a sneaky finger on her clit, two more holding her open, and one hand on her hip. Annabelle loved to be in charge of her rides; Fredrick knew it as he pulled her hips down onto his sheathed piece. "My house, My rules." The words came through gritted teeth "Oooooh, oh.." Annabelle was a screamer, and a continuous moaner. For the longest time, he had thought she was faking; these days, he knew better. Fredrick steadily worked her nub as he held her pace to his liking. The last time he tried such a thing, the argument started with: "You never let me do it!" This time, she only moaned and shivered. "Oh..oh..oh.. freddy.. I missed your dick in my pussy.. did you miss my pussy..? oh..oh.." "More than I have ever missed anything," Fredrick was speaking truth, he always did. The muscles she had inside were made for kings, the way she used them was for gods; the perfection of her wetness, and the way she worked it, made Fredrick forget of the use of latex between them. "Oh..oh..oh.. mmm..oh..oh..oh.." To Annabelle, Fredrick was not the best fuck in the world, but he was consistently close to one of the greats. She came within a minute, and a minute after. She always came over and over, an addict for the sensation. She lost her balance at his pace, which was forcing her to move slower than she wanted. "UUUNHH.. oh..oh..oh.." Years ago she had complained, these days she knew he was building better love. His intention was to peak at the end in unison with her, only heightening the pleasure for both at fruition. Her chest was finally in reach of his tongue when she fell, and his free hand, the one not on her button, aimed a nipple at his mouth. "Oh Freddy.. lick it, lick my tits like you do my pussy.. oh..oh..oh..oh.." His doppelganger took control when he made love. He was aggressive, slightly rough and not very held back. His strength was always on display while he was naked. It had frightened Annabelle before; now she understood he was just like her, but never fucked around. He waited for something special. "Uh..oh..oh..oh..oh.." He thought she was special, and vice versa, and it made her orgasm again. In tune, he sat up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and stood while still lodged deep. He humped her in the air for a moment, before he turned and 'tossed' her onto the bed. He dove and slid, climbing on top and resuming his thrusts in a single pass. "Ooooooh Fre.. oh..oh..oh uh..oh..oh.." On her back now, one of Annabelle's hands went to her nipple, the other to her opening. Annabelle never let boys kiss her while they fucked, but now she let go of her nipple, and pulled his face to hers. They kissed wet and full of tongue, his stride never ceasing. "You ready?" He asked when he broke the kiss. Fredrick was mostly quiet in bed, most of the boys she fucked were, but they were silent in amazement. Fredrick was silent because he was absorbing her wiles. He let her 'Effect' dominate him when they were naked together, the only time he did. The sound of his voice surprised her, and her eyes shot open. "..wha...?" Annabelle had no clue what he was asking, and she was on the brink of another orgasm. "This," He said as he stopped holding back in every sense. He went full strength into her, almost tearing the condom with his ferocity. He pounded now, faster than fast could be. Annabelle lost it. She was unaware that he could do such things since he never had before. "OOOOOOh FREDDY!!!!" She was coming in an instant, and it did not stop. "OHOHOHOH!" Annabelle had stopped rubbing herself where it was wet. Both hands were pulling her nipples now, and she was seeing spots. Fredrick was also seeing white flashes; her muscles had turned from amazing to the 'Jaws of Life' as he thrust with abandon, only moments away from his own orgasm. His hands slid from holding himself up, to gripping her shoulders from underneath. He was pulling her into him, and he started to let loose, bellowing. She reached her maximum climax as he did, screaming in unison, and waking some neighbors. She was hugging him to her, something she never did before, with anyone. After his new show, Fredrick was the best fuck she knew. The two lay together, silent and panting for a long while before he rolled over, holding her in place above. Annabelle was now laying on his chest, pinching his still hard -- and sheathed -- member with her inner muscles, a trick he had only known her to do. "uhhhh.. I got you a Valentine's present, but never... uhhh.. never had a chance to give it to you... awwwww.. it's in the lowest drawer," he was pointing with one hand, the other still on her back. Annabelle sat up, his hand sliding to her perfect rump and hip, directly over her sunflower tattoo; she was still pinching just below his head from within herself. She leaned over, and pulled out the small red-wrapped flat square gift from the drawer, and began to open it. She tore the paper and ribbon off, tossing it onto his face in a tease as she stared at the picture. It was of the two together, leaning against the wall of her old job and smoking cigarettes. In the picture, she was leaning into Fredrick, smiling, as he looked up and into the distance, an equal smile on his face. They were genuinely happy, she remembered the moment, and she had never known that Dave had snapped the photo. The handmade frame of the photo said: "Friends Forever, Maybe More." None of the other boys had a chance or the urge to capture her image; she was only ever in pictures for family or for money. Fredrick pulled the paper off his face, crinkling it and tossing it onto the floor as he watched her go teary. "You like it?" He genuinely could not tell. "I love you, Fredrick," she said as she leaned down to kiss his lips and pinch him internally in unison. The kiss was more connected than ever, he knew it was not a lie. Shortly after, she rolled off of him and cuddled to his side; kissing at his neck, shoulder, and ear while still clutching the framed photo to her chest. "I hope you know," she said to him in a feisty whisper, "that I'm paying for the moving truck." *** 7 "Come here often?" Annabelle was ignoring him, looking at her fresh and full drink instead of him. "No... never before..." Fredrick knew she was lying, and she was acting like she did not know him, in spite of her earlier smile. She was testing him and he could tell. "I see you haven't lost your touch," he was referring to every other man in viewing distance; they were ignoring ever other woman except for her. Fredrick finally understood that her tattoo had more to do with multiple seeds inside, than petals on the outside. He had always wondered why she had spent so much money to make it so detailed and perfect. Not anymore, not these days. Annabelle looked pissed, she figured his intention was to make her feel like shit, and she already felt like shit plus she was projecting. That's why she was here, to orgasm away her conflicts. She was getting up, she was going to leave; she knew, now, that that was his car outside, and that he had had it painted. (ha) "Wait, just wait, Belle... Please?" He had touched her arm; the look on his face was where it had always been when she was around. "What?" She was piercing his gaze with her yellow eyes, confused that he even had the nerve to come to her in the first place. "Look, I want to apologize... and to wish you six belated birthdays." "You? For what?!" Her raised voice caught more male attention, but Fredrick just remained calm, still seated. "For not manning up, for not telling you what I knew, and for trying to keep you all to myself. That was wrong of me, and wrong to do to you especially. I should have known better." He was still watching her as she went back to her seat, suddenly confused and calm in the way only she was able to be. "I'm sorry too.. I shouldn-" Fredrick stopped her with his words. "No harm, no foul. I had it coming." He was smiling at her; Annabelle always did think he was funny. She didn't speak for near a minute, though her slight smile was there as she studied him. "It's only five birthday wishes you owe me... Fishy Jen called me and told me you had mentioned it was my twentieth to her." Annabelle was smiling for the first time, genuinely, in years. "You still smoke?" Fredrick saw her nod in response. "Well, when you finish that drink, you want to go grab one outside, maybe talk where it's a bit quieter?"