1 comments/  6230 views/  7 favorites

Self-Awareness Ch. 01

By: SierraVista



Chapter ONE: Get On With Our Lives

Dedicated to Bianca.

This is my first ever erotic story. I had ideas for this series for awhile and decided to finally write them out. These ideas were influenced by my real life, combined with missed opportunities and personal fantasies. The story is complete fiction; however many of the situations are exaggerations based off my life experience.

Feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading!

----------

SCENE ONE: You Never Know What Might Happen

----------

It was 9:15pm. It was a Friday night. I could hear neighbors slowly turning up the music. The latest Top 40 pop-flavored dance track rumbled through the atmosphere. I could faintly hear those dumbasses laughing, yelling, and causing a ruckus. 

Awake on my bed, I stared uninterested at my blank white ceiling. I slouched there watching the shadows of the curtains sway as the ceiling fan blew recycled hot air throughout the room. My computer screen is turned on with a blank white screen. I haven't written anything in so long. I loved to write, but tonight I want to forget everything, ever.

Then I gently closed my eyes. The sound of bass music and laughter slowly floated into stillness. A fuzzy feeling overtook my body. Sleep at last! And they say nothing ever happens overnight...

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!* 

Four rapid knocks broke my slumber as I open my eyes. First thing I looked at is the time on my phone. It's 9:25pm. Really? Only 10 minutes of sleep? That knocking on the door must be Dylan, my interruptive roommate. I rolled out of bed onto my feet and slowly waddle to the door to unlock it. I slowly opened the door, preparing to see his usual stupid happy face.

"Get dressed. We're going out!" Dylan commanded. He grabbed my left shoulder and pulled me into the hallway, almost losing my balance. "And you smell like shit, by the way."

Dylan was a year younger than me, at 22 years old. He's a tallish, lanky stoner with his blonde shaggy hair slightly covering his eyes. He used to work as a driver at a pizza bar called Italiano's. He got me a job as a cook over there before he got fired for being late three days in a row. Now he's at a community college studying... actually I'm not sure what he's majoring in. Does one have a major at a community college? He's annoying most times, but at least he supplies copious amounts of pot to help relax my boring crappy life.

"Not tonight man. Just got back from my night class and I... I just want to be alone right now. I just want some sleep." I slurred. 

I felt like shit. I looked like shit. I wanted this day to end and prayed for a less shitty tomorrow. Every day I felt like this, to be honest. And sadly every day always felt like the same level of shit. Damn, am I being fucking emo or what?

"Enough! Live your life man... Stop with all that wrist cutting bullcrap. What good are you doing locking yourself in your room every damn night?! It's great that you're finally going to school and working, but you come home right after and jerk it or sleep or do whatever you do. Nothing exciting is ever going to happen to you if you don't put yourself out there, man!" Dylan said enthusiastically.

He waited for my inexistent response, and then chimed in again. "You're always on your computer writing your stupid stories that you won't even let me read. Or on your bed with your headphones on. Don't you want to do something else?"

He's usually blunt with me on things like this. He's tried to convince me over and over to stop being a sad sack. This time, however, his words hit me in the gut. I've always told him I lock myself in my room because I'm writing my next short story or ideas for a screenplay. In reality, I can't remember the last time I wrote something creative. I have been lazy with my personal goals and afraid of talking to people about feelings or anything in general. Being unproductive sucks.

"Plus, I guarantee there'll be a ton of hot chicks there!" Dylan added. He smiled as if that would seal the deal. "And not just any hot chicks, super college hot chicks! As in, girls that are way out of your league so you might just be staring at them at a safe distance. Then you'll go home empty handed and jerk off alone. But still, you never know what might happen!"

"What's the occasion?" I asked.

"It's Megan's friend's birthday. She's just throwing a little get together at her place. So you know, a bunch of hot babes, repetitive club music, smoking, drinking..." Dylan paused for a second and turned his head behind him. "...She's turning 21, right babe?"

He was talking to Megan, his off again on again girlfriend. 'Girlfriend' is a loose term I suppose. Megan hangs around the pad a lot. They seem serious when they're together, and strangers when they break up. But they always magnetically and magically reunite on a week to week basis.

Megan answered Dylan's question by raising her eyebrows and nodding. She removed her jacket to reveal her tight white t-shirt, showing off her petite upper-body and a pair of black jeans that hugged her curvy thighs. Her dark ravenous hair twirled backwards as she turned around and walked away from us, with her black knee-high boots clicking on the kitchen tiles. I took a glance from behind as she bounced her round booty, swaying her hips gleefully towards Dylan's bedroom to get ready for the party. 

Now, don't worry folks. I'm not going to end up banging Megan. That would be an injustice towards Dylan. A true cold blooded stab in the back if you ask me. I was merely describing my surroundings in depth with eloquent words and stuff. You know. Like how a novel should be.

"Anyways yeah. Let's go dude. Hit the showers, put on a nice clean shirt and let's do this!" Dylan demanded. He followed Megan to his bedroom to get ready.

I stood isolated in the hallway with my undershirt and boxers on, looking into my bedroom. It was a mess. Just like me. What the hell, why not go? Maybe it'll give me something to do for once in my life.

I entered my bathroom and stripped out of my worn out clothes. As I tossed off my last article of clothing, I took a gander at the mirror and checked out my body. I stood before my reflection a 6'0'', 23 year old man with nothing to lose. While wondering if I should shave, I ran my hand across my 5 o'clock stubble and throughout my crew cut shaved head. There was probably no time shave, and I guess ladies like that Zac Efron stubble look. That dude has awesome stubble.

I was overweight through most of my life, but after a traumatic event I decided to pick up jogging, eating healthy and lifting flimsy dumbbells I bought from Wal-Mart. Once 270 pounds, I lost over 80 pounds through a year and a half. There was still some more work to do as parts of my body weren't toned to my liking. Still, I was pleased with the results. However, despite all my physical changes, my introverted personality still emerged in social environments.

I did my best bodybuilder impression and also inspected my cock hanging between my legs. Then I inched closer face to face with my clone in the mirror. I'm a decent lookin' piece of meat if I say so myself. So where's my confidence when I need it? Why am I afraid to engage in conversations with women?

It probably has to do with my ex-girlfriend, Amanda; all the horrific, heart-breaking things she did to my poor gullible soul. She was that traumatic event that led to me losing all my excess weight. Maybe I should just let go of the past and leave it decaying where it should be... but that's another story. Self-Awareness (Ch. 3) to be exact.

I took a quick shower, got changed, ran my fingers through my hair and coated myself with body spray. Dylan and Megan were waiting for me in the living room, watching a re-run of a sitcom. Sitcoms are funny because they preprogram a laugh-track to tell your stupid ass when to laugh. Sorry, I really hate sitcoms. They turned around when they heard my footsteps treading on the carpet.

"Fuck, finally! Took you long enough." Dylan said. He got up from the comfort of the couch. "Let's go!"

"You ready Ryan?" Megan asked. "You're lookin' really good, by the way." 

She looked at me, scanning up and down with her big brown eyes, batting her eyelashes quickly when she made contact with me. She was always teasing and flirting with me. Dylan was actually cool with it, as long as I don't bone her. And remember readers, I'm not going to bone her.

Oh yeah. By the way as Megan mentioned, my name is Ryan. 

"Thanks." I answered. "So who's car we taking?"

"We'll take Megan's car since she knows where Annalisa lives. And also because I don't have a car!" Dylan laughed. 

So, Megan's friend's name is Annalisa. I wonder how she looks like. Sounds like an exotic name. Annalisa...

"You're such a dork." Megan aimed at Dylan. "Let's head out gang."

We left our now lonely house and marched towards Megan's Volkswagen Jetta. Yes, that's right. A Jetta. I lodged myself in the back as Dylan sat himself down in the passenger seat. Megan started the engine and puttered our way towards the destination. Dylan released himself from the restraint of his seatbelt and turned his head towards me.

"Okay boy, here's the rundown. So, her name is Annalisa. Wish her a Happy Birthday and stuff, get her a drink, I don't know. Just don't act like a weirdo." Dylan said.

"Annalisa, right?" I asked. "Can I call her Anna, or Lisa? Four syllables are too much for a first name."

"No, just Annalisa!" Megan spouted. "She doesn't like it when people shorten her name."

"Is she hot?" I asked. I was legitimately curious. Randomly generated images of this mysterious Annalisa appeared throughout my mind.

"Meh," Dylan replied, using a sideways waving hand gesture to indicate she's just mediocre. 

Megan shoved Dylan with her right hand and shot a look of disapproval. "Hey, what the fuck!?" Dylan shouted.

The Jetta stopped.

"We're here guys!" Megan announced.

----------

SCENE TWO: Annalisa's Birthday Party

----------

"Alright, come on fellas." Megan ordered. 

The two walked in front of me as I shuffled behind them like a lost duckling. Megan pressed the little white button ringing the doorbell. Is this going to be awkward? I haven't been to a party in quite some time, plus I don't know any of these folks. I'm so nervous right now, I'm like... I mean... 

Hold on, what am I saying? C'mon, get your shit together soldier.

The locks on the front door clicked and clacked and the knob slowly turned. The hinges creaked as the door finally opened to reveal a woman welcoming us. I saw people in the background drinking, sitting down, and casually talking. Some sort of 80's music was playing, although it could have easily been some recent wannabe hip band trying to replicate the 80's sound.

"Megan! Alright, you brought your friends. Come on in guys!" the woman greeted us. 

She opened the door wider so all of us can come in. She looked at me with a piercing gaze as I noticed her intense sky-blue eyes. Her straightened out blonde hair barely touched her shoulders, waving with movement as she closed the door behind us. Her jewelry made shattering noises when she made any type of action. As she walked past me, I noticed her black and purple dress that molded the outline of her surprisingly shapely ass. Well God Damn! So this is the one and only Annalisa! The blonde chick hugged Megan, squishing her handful-sized tits with Megan's chest and led us through into the house.

Nice place. On the right was a staircase that revealed a second floor. On the left was another room that also led to the kitchen. And straight ahead was where all the party goers had gathered up. I'd imagine that's the living room. I moved straight ahead, trailing Dylan and Megan as this blue-eyed, big butt, blonde beauty led us past everyone and towards the backyard. Shit, there's even more people out there! Don't wimp out now, Ryan.

Out on the patio, a man is barbequing half cooked meat and loud people were having fun in the swimming pool. Near the pool a small circle of friends were drinking beer and laughing like high hyenas. That circle broke as a casually-dressed chubby girl emerged from the group and greeted our blonde tour guide.

"Thanks Wendy!" she shouted at the appealing blonde. 

So, I guess that wasn't Annalisa. Her name was Wendy. I'm not really good with names, but I'm sure I will remember hers.

Wendy laughed. "You're soooo drunk Annalisa. I'm going to head back inside, you guys have fun!" 

So the stumpy flabby girl was Annalisa. The effects of alcohol took an effect on her, as Annalisa stumbled over the garden hose, regained her balance and walked towards us.

She was wearing a loose white top with dried paint all over the fabric. It looked like she was finger-painting or a bunch of Skittles bags had just finished raping her. She also wore some very short shorts which she had no business wearing considering her... let's put this nicely... morbid obesity. I ain't judging though, well kind of. She stood there with her double chin, short hair, thin red lips, and red veins crept up into the white of her eyes. She made train wrecks watchable. 'Mediocre' was putting it nicely. Thanks for the warning Dylan.

Wendy headed back into the house and made blazing eye contact with me once more, but just for a split second. It feels like she's trying to cast a spell with her majestic sapphire eyeballs. She swung her golden hair to one side and smiled as she passed right by me. That movement in her hair brushed a small gust of wind, transferring the sweetest smell of random flowers and fragrance to my nostrils. I couldn't help but to turn around and watch that plump, tight ass of hers one more time, thundering up and down with each step she took. Her head turned slightly. I can see the side of her strikingly lovely face. She knew I was checking her out and smiled again. Weirdly enough, I wasn't as embarrassed as I normally was.

"...and this is Ryan." Megan said, as she interrupted my drooling over Wendy's beautiful behind. Oh yeah. I completely forgot about the birthday girl. 

"Hi, Ryan." Annalisa slurred under her breath, staring at her wriggling toes in her flip flops. 

I better get this over with. Maybe I can find that Wendy chick before the night is over. Well hey, take a look at me! Thinking I can stand a chance with the hot blonde.

"Hey Anal..." I choked, accidentally butchering her beloved first name. There must have been something caught in my throat. I haven't vocally spoken since I was in the car.

"...Lisa" Annalisa finished.

She then randomly chuckled like a maniac. "Yeah it's Annalisa, but you can call me Anna if you want."

"Hey uh, hey Dylan. Let's go grab something to drink. And um, check out the house and, yeah," Megan interjected. She grabbed Dylan by the shirt. "We'll catch up with you two later." Megan looked directly at Annalisa, giggling. Dylan and Megan then disappeared into the house.

Catch up later? Leaving us alone? Oh, I see what this is. Now I see why Dylan wanted me to come to this party so badly. Dylan and Megan are trying to hook me up with Annalisa. Probably because they know how upset I've been with life recently. I appreciate their help and all, but screw them. Actually, what the fuck?! It's not like I can't get a girl by myself. In fact, this is more of an insult. Trying to hook me up with this screwball is definitely an insult.

And now Annalisa and I are alone.

"So..." she said, drawing out the word waiting for me to start the conversation. 

I can tell she really likes me. If only I had the slightest interest in the poor soul. Oh well, play it cool. At the very least maybe she'll have some hot friends. At the very very very least I might get it on with her. I mean, it's been a long time since I got my dick wet. But I'm going to need a good amount of alcoholic beverages if I'm going to travel down that path. Yes, yes I will.

"Now, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that Megan was trying to get us two alone." I said, trying to break the awkward silence by making it even more awkward.

"How you know?" she smiled. I fucking knew it. Damn you Megan.

I stared at her and just shook my head. I wanted to get laid tonight. But not like this. She's drunk and if I did get with her, it wouldn't mean anything. And by that I mean, not like a relationship or girlfriend or whatever, but I want the sex to have some sort of meaning for me. I wanted to prove to myself that I can conquer my current depressed state. Being given a loose girl who wouldn't mind getting off on a table leg isn't the challenge I was seeking to overcome.

That was 10% of the reason why I didn't want to fuck her. The other 90% is, well I mean, just look at her.

"Hey, you know what? I got to talk to Dylan really quick. I'm going to go try and find him. But it was nice meeting you." I spoke quickly, trying to wrap up this conversation as fast as possible. I started to walk quickly out of her sight and into the house, until I forgot something fairly important. 

After remembering, I turned around and yelled "Oh, and Happy Birthday Lisa!"

----------

SCENE THREE: Here Comes A New Challenger!

----------

Hmm, Happy Birthday Lisa. Wasn't that on an episode of The Simpsons?

I'm back in the living room. Some random guy saw I had no beer in my hand and decided to offer me a bottle. I thanked him with a head nod. Standing back from the side of the room, I witnessed a bunch of people playing Xbox Kinect, flailing like drowning fish. They're either trying to bust dance moves or scratch an impossible itch located on the back of their spine. Everyone seemed to be having a good time though, so I can't fault them for looking like fools I guess.

In the corner of the living room I saw Dylan hugging Megan from behind as they're both cackling at the stupidity in front of their eyes.

On the other side of the room I saw two couches. One occupied by a group of friends cheering on the lunatics dancing in the middle of the room. The other couch was empty, except for a girl sitting down gazing into her phone. It was Wendy. Hey, I did remember her name!

I've got to sit in that spot before some douche decided to take it. But how? What would she think when a stranger randomly sits next to her? Fuck it, just go and do it. But what should I say once I sit there? God fucking damn it, just do it already!

After allowing my conscience to bully me, I decided to walk towards that empty spot on the couch. It felt like a spotlight was shining down on that exact area. Not noticing, I realized I was walking right in front of the TV, disrupting the world's best dance crew and fucking up their high score. They were yelling at me, reacting with a collective "Aww, what the fuck!" Meh, whatever.

I planted myself on the couch and waited for a reaction from Wendy. She didn't look up. Whatever she was doing on the phone had her attention.

I mustered up all the courage from my balls and channeled it reversely from my scrotum to my throat, building up a small fireball of words as I finally pulled the trigger. Each letter escaped my mouth like a grandpa on his death bed. It felt as if my introduction would forever be remembered as a historic moment for mankind. As if this was on par with the Vietnam War, 9/11, and allowing gays to marry. Alright I'll stop, I think you get it.

"...Hi." I finally said in a sigh of relief. She broke her trance from the phone and lifted her head towards me.

"Hey." she said, and returned her head back to her phone. 

Suddenly, she displayed a slight smile. It was enough to show a small amount of her white teeth. I'm not sure if it was from the sight of me, or if it was from whatever she was reading on her phone. Don't be so cocky Ryan; of course it was from the phone.


Self-Awareness Ch. 01



"What are you doing here?" she asked, switching off her phone and snugging it into her pocket.

"Um, well uh, there was an empty seat here and I wanted to sit down so..."

"No, I mean why aren't you out there with Annalisa?" she asked, interrupting my train of thought. She too knew about this arranged marriage Megan was planning?

"Huh?"

"Megan tried to set you two up," Wendy responded. She took a sip of beer that was on the floor next to the couch. "You know, Annalisa's a good girl. You should take her out for a nice dinner or something. Maybe catch a movie."

"Yeah I don't know, I think I'm too good for her to be honest." I scoffed. Whoa, where did that come from? That was kind of smooth, actually.

"Really? Too good for her huh?" Wendy said softly. She inspected my body up and down, as if she were to judge if my statement held up.

"Yep." I replied shortly.

She had a longing stare, trying hard to phrase the next words coming out of her shiny pink lips. "The way Megan described you is not... well, it's not who I thought you were going to be."

"Yeah well, Megan's a retard," I interjected. She quietly giggled through her nose, covering her face with her forearm. "What did Megan say about me anyhow?"

"Well..." she prolonged, brushing her blonde hair back over her ear. "The main thing Megan said was, that you don't know what you want."

"Really, she said that?"

"Yep"

"That's bullshit."

"Hey, that's what she told me. Do you know what you want, Ryan?" she asked. She shifted her body so one of her toned legs can be tucked under the other. Then, she pivoted her torso towards me, awaiting my answer.

I said nothing. I sat there with a blank stare trying to think of an answer. Glancing up to her face was a mistake, as she was doing that voodoo eye contact thing again. She was just a naturally sexy woman. I was going to give my response when something caught her attention. She turned her head upwards and stood up from the couch.

Some skater boy-looking punk marched over and greeted Wendy with a hug and a slight smack on the ass. I watched as his hand cupped her voluptuous butt cheek, causing it to jiggle for a few seconds. Then, he lifted her head up to his lips and gave her a small peck. The skater punk was that guy that offered me the bottle of beer.

"Babe, you want 'nother beer?" the man asked Wendy, offering a bottle still fresh with icy water drops dripping from the glass.

Wendy bent over and picked up the half empty bottle on the floor, showing it to the guy and jiggling the liquid inside. "Nah, I'm good. Still got some left."

"Okay," he said, pulling the bottle back to the side of his body. "Me, Robbie and the guys are gonna play some beer pong outside, you want in?"

"Its fine, I'm still tired from tonight," Wendy laughed. His arm was still around her; as if to tell me that this was his woman. 

"Just don't go crazy like last time," she added, winking at him.

"Yeah, I know babe," the man chucked. He turned his attention towards me surprisingly with a head nod. "Hey, you want another one?" He offered me the same bottle, revealing numerous tattoos crawling up from his wrist and into his short-sleeved polo shirt.

I looked down at my beer and saw that I barely had any. To be honest, I forgot I had my beer in hand while talking to this stunning blonde creature. I nodded my head and accepted it. Who knows, maybe I'll get super drunk if nothing goes my way.

"Don't get too drunk little man, you still gotta make your moves on Annalisa!" he snickered, then stormed off with his buddies outside making roaring sounds as they prepped for their clichéd frat boy drinking games.

I looked back at Wendy. "Does everyone here fucking know about this Annalisa thing?"

Wendy shrugged and smiled.

"So, that your boyfriend?" I asked, a little depressed but understandable. No one as hot as her could be single.

Wendy held up her fist and raised her ring finger, showcasing a shiny piece of jewelry. "Fiancé, actually," she revealed, slowly sitting her rump back on the couch.

"Oh, for a second there I thought you were flipping me off." I said jokingly.

"What?" she asked.

"Who holds up only their ring finger to show off their ring?"

"Oh I don't know, I guess it's just how I show it off."

I tried to change the subject. "So, I was wondering, why are you all glamoured up with your pretty dress, fancy jewelry and all?"

Her eyes lit up. "Oh! I just came back from a choir meeting."

"Choir meeting huh? You sing?"

"A little, yeah," she divulged, as she slowly positioned both her hands over her knees.

"You in a church choir or something?"

"Oh, I'm in the University Choir Club. We were practicing tonight for a big event two weeks from now. It's State Championships. Every university in the valley is going to compete at our school actually, so it's kind of a big deal for me!" she enthusiastically replied.

"That's awesome! Hey, I've always wondered... if you're surrounded by a bunch of choir people, couldn't you just lip sync the entire song. Like, no one could possibly know if you were singing or not. There's like 800 people singing at the same time." I joked.

"Well, that defeats the purpose of being in a choir now doesn't it?" she answered with a smile.

"Hmm, I guess you're right," I said. "You should totally sing for me."

Wendy had a startlingly embarrassed look on her face. "Fffwh... What?! Umm, how about no?"

"C'mon! If you could sing in front of hundreds of people, how could you get embarrassed singing in front of one guy like me?"

She started squirming in her seat, contemplating if she should sing or not. "Ehh, yeah. Maybe next time."

"What if there is no next time?"

"No, I'm sure I'll see you again." Her eyebrows lifted and her eyes drifted away from me.

Well, well Ryan. It seems this going-to-be-married blonde thinks she's going to see you again in the near future. This could be a possibility with 'her being friends with Megan' and all. But for some reason I took that response as something else. Though, I should probably stop overanalyzing every fucking word in the history of everyone that's ever spoken.

And that's when I finally spoke up.

"You know what Wendy? I think I know what I want now."

Silence. Stuck in a staring contest. I wasn't sure what she was thinking, if I was coming on to her, or if I'm some sort of perv. But she didn't do anything; she just stared at me and smiled. In fact, this is the longest I've ever stared into Wendy's eyes without melting into a puddle of goo.

Her pink lips puckered up, preparing to speak. That was until her attention was diverted yet again. Man I swear, these distractions are perfectly happening just when the conversation start to get interesting. It's as if my life was scripted by a higher power and these interruptions only exist for the sole purpose of added tension and/or misdirection.

Wendy stood up, straightened up the lower part of her dress and watched as another girl walked towards us. "Kerry!" she yelped.

Kerry... that name sounded familiar. Well, audibly it sounds like the common name 'Carrie', and I knew a few girls named Carrie. But this one 'looked' familiar too.

Kerry stood there, right in front of me, towering me as I sat on the couch. She wore these hip-hugging blue jeans, as that was the first thing I saw from eye-sight in this sitting down position. A Hello Kitty key chain was dangling from the front pocket, swaying back and forth in front of her strong thighs. A small portion of her flat stomach was shown as she wore a blue tank top that forcefully wrapped around her B cup breasts. Her thumbs were stuffed into her front pockets, freeing one of her hands to brush her long black hair. Her face was angelic, with Asian features and big brown eyes. She had a short chubby nose and soft, kissable lips... although those particular lips were not smiling.

"Hey, you took my seat!" Kerry growled. Her eyebrows pushed together making her look angry.

She was definitely a cutie. Did I just say 'cutie' out loud? No, I didn't, I said it in my head. But still, don't ever say that again Ryan.

I stood up, being all proper and stuff. "Ryan." I politely introduced myself, holding out my hand for a friendly handshake. Now I was the towering one, she must be 5' 2'' or so.

"Ry...Ryan," she repeated my name, reluctantly taking her hand out of her pocket to shake my manly palm. Her hand was so tiny compared to mine. "I'm Kerry."

I stared at her for a second, trying to remember who this familiar person is. I think she was doing the same, looking at my face trying to analyze her memories with her gorgeous feline-like dark eyes. 

"You could sit down if you want. I didn't mean to take your seat," I said.

Kerry had this confused look on her face. "Wendy, who is this guy again?"

"That's Ryan! You know, the guy Annalisa is gonna hook up with," Wendy snorted.

"Oh!" Kerry laughed. 

"God damn it! Everyone knows about this don't they!?" I irately said.

They both giggled. Making girls laugh is the best feeling in the world. Unless of course, they're laughing when you pull your pants down.

Wendy approached Kerry. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah everything's fine. You know Xavier, he's just bored I guess so he was just calling me," Kerry said, rolling her eyes.

Xavier... now I remember. Kerry went to my high school. I had a semi-crush on her. It got to a point where I would watch porn and try to find girls that looked like her and jerk off with her in my mind. That's completely normal right? Just me? M'kay.

Anyways, Kerry was with Xavier since freshmen year. I remember because I would always see them together at rallies and school events even though I didn't know them at the time. I came to know Xavier, though I wouldn't consider him a close friend. And I'm pretty sure he had no knowledge that I had the biggest hard on for Kerry. I lost contact with him after high school, as with most people.

Wendy's fiancé came back from outside and charged right to Wendy. "Stupid Robbie miscalculated the booze. Gotta make a beer run. You down?"

Wendy looked at Kerry, then at me. "Um, yeah sure. When? Right now?"

"Yep! Let's get goin', people are waiting!" he said enthusiastically.

"Hold up!" She grabbed Kerry a few feet away and whispered in her ear. They both giggled again, while Kerry was looking at me.

"Alright fine, let's go," Wendy exclaimed. She grabbed her bottle from the floor and chugged the remains. "But I'm driving," she demanded. Responsibility at its finest.

Wendy and her fiancé gathered a few more dudes and filed their way out of the front entrance. I was hoping Wendy would look over her shoulder and give me one more enticing stare before I ever get to see her again, but none. She bounced her big booty out the door, followed by a bunch of dorks wearing backwards hats.

----------

SCENE FOUR: Crush and Burn

----------

Kerry sighed and sat herself down on the seat where Wendy used to reside. She looked at me again, this time studying me closer, pointing her nose too close in my personal space. I didn't mind.

"Did I go to school with you or something?" she finally spoke. I already figured out the mystery, but I was willing to play along to see if she would figure me out. I looked different today than I did back in high school. A lot different.

"Maybe..." I said, pretending to study her as well, although I took this opportunity to admire her physique, her beautiful skin, and her tight clothes.

"Ryan... from Hammond High School?" she asked unsurely. Bingo.

"Kerry?" I responded. Her face lit up like a homeless kid on Christmas getting a box of crayons.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, leaping into my arms and hugging me. Her hug lasted a few seconds longer than it should, as she slowly dragged her hands over my chest and arms before she finally released me from her bear hug.

"Jesus, you look so different! I would've never recognized you!" she excitedly squealed.

"Yeah I lost a ton of weight."

"Yeah you did, holy shit! What's your secret?"

I smiled. "No secret really. Ate healthy, worked out, exercised. I mean, that's really it."

She then looked at herself. "I think I need to work out more."

I gave her a baffled look, a serious one. "What!? Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm not kidding."

"You look great Kerry!" I said. It felt weird complimenting girls as I always expect a look of inappropriateness on their faces. Her face was too cute to be disgusting though.

Damn it. Stop saying cute, Ryan!

"Even back in high school I looked good?" she questioned me.

"Of course!" I said, a little louder than I should have.

"You've always looked good. I even had a little crush on you in high school." I revealed. It felt liberating to admit, but that was eight years ago. Crushes come and go. But it still felt therapeutic.

"I know." she smirked. Her big eyes sank down to her hands.

I decided to forget about the past for a second, and get back on track with her 'working out' issues. "So, what do you need to work out?"

"Huh?" She looked confused for a second.

"Working out. You said you needed to work out more. In your opinion, what do you need to improve on?"

"Oh, I think I have everything right, I just need to tone my body more. And I've been doing a lot of butt exercises. Doing squats and stuff." Kerry articulated with interest.

"Yeah I need to tone more too, actually," I said.

"You look good though Ryan."

Having Kerry compliment me felt really good. Megan always gave these friendly flirts towards me but I just brushed them away. Plus she was always flirting with me, even with Dylan in the same room. But from Kerry, that meant the world to me. I felt the courage to say something outlandishly out of my character, just to see what would happen. 

"Let me take a look at your ass."

She snorted out of shock. "Hummm... What?"

"Stand up, let me see if those squats are really working out for you. Pun intended." Good one Ryan. Good one...

In fact, that joke was so cheesy she didn't even acknowledge it, but she stood up anyways. I didn't get a chance to get an up close view of her ass when I saw her enter the room and talking to Wendy, but low and behold, that ass was magnificent. It was nice and round, a tightly wrapped present with blue denim wrapping paper. That along with her thin waist made it stand out even more. An improvement from when I use to follow her from behind, staring at her close-fitting pants in the school hallways years ago. Wow, I really am a perv.

"Wait, why am I letting you check out my butt again?" she giggled, looking behind her shoulder, basically posing for me in front of everyone in the living room.

"Well, to get the best opinion, you need the opinion of a person you don't know. A true opinion. You can ask your girlfriends, your guy friends, your family, but they will always give you a biased opinion. Me, however, I will give you a true, non-biased opinion."

"Oh, so you're not my friend, huh?" she sadly asked.

"I guess I am your friend, but how good of friends are we if we haven't spoken to each other in years." I replied.

She giggled with defeat. "That's true. Well, what's your verdict?"

I signaled with two thumbs up. She balled her fist and pumped it to herself, happy with the rating I gave her. She plopped back down on the couch.

*Meeeeeoooorwraaawr* A sound of a kitty cat came out of nowhere. I looked at her and she seemingly ignored it.

"Is that your phone?" I asked.

"Yeah, don't worry 'bout it," she responded.

I looked around the floor and grabbed the still unopened bottle of beer. "You want this beer? I haven't finished mine." I gave her the extra booze Wendy's fiancé handed me.

"Yeah sure, why not?" She grabbed the bottle. I opened the top for her with my cigarette lighter and she took a few baby sips from the top.

"I should get your number. So uh, we could work out together. You know, if you want to." I asked. 

Asking for a girl's numbers used to be the most difficult thing for me. I had to either be really good friends with her, which would usually end up being in the friend zone, or wait for her to make a move, which never happened.

"Asking for my number already? But I'm not even drunk yet!" she laughed, and then took a few more sips.

"No really, we could go work out together. I need a partner sometimes; I'm usually doing it by myself." 

Get it? I usually do it by myself? I need a partner? Oh, you so clever Ryan.

"You don't have a work out buddy do ya?" I asked.

"Wendy's my work out partner actually. That's the main reason why I wanted to do those butt exercises," she said. 

"That's a good source of motivation," I said.

She smiled. "But yeah, sure. You could come do it with us. That'll be fun!"

She reached into her pocket, with that Hello Kitty keychain swinging to the front of her pelvic area, and pulled out her phone. 

I did the same. I turned on my phone and asked, "Alright cool, so gimme them digits."

She giggled again. God, her laugh was so cute. It made me want to curl her up into a little ball and eat her up, but I'm pretty sure that's illegal. She recited her phone number and I texted her so she can have my number, signaling another kitty cat sound from her phone. 

That's when I realized...

"Aww shit, my phone's at 3%," I said. A night without my phone? The world might as well come to an end.

"You got an iPhone right?" Kerry spoke up, as if she was going to solve my problem. "Come with me! I think I got my charger in my car."

Why do I need to follow her to the car? Couldn't she just get the charger and come back to the house? I'm going to plug it in an outlet in the house anyways right? Also, why am I asking dumb questions? Do as she says!

She placed her bottle on the floor, as did I. She motioned me to follow. And I did, following behind that booty she presented to me minutes ago. We walked outside and the brisk night air hit me in the face. I must have been warm from all the people's body heat combined with my internal struggle to have a conversation with not one, but two hot babes. 

She shuffled through her keys and unlocked the door of her car. Concentrating heavily, she opened the glove compartment and scavenged through the objects. She also checked all around the interior, underneath the car seats and middle compartments.

Just then, I got a text from Dylan.

Dylan: "Hey where do u think ur going? :)" 

Oh yeah, Dylan and Megan were in the living room the whole time. I completely forgot. I was in my own zone for the past hour. He must have seen me leave the house with Kerry. However, as my phone lit up, I saw my battery percentage drop down to 2%. Dylan, you son of a bitch.

"Yeah, maybe..." Kerry said, still searching through her stuff in the car. "Maybe it's... shit. I don't think it's here. It's probably back at my place."

She placed the things she pulled out from the glove compartment back to where it originally was, OCD style. She got up and looked at me square in the eye. "Let's go."

"Where?" I asked. Don't tell me she wants to take me to her place?

"To my place," she repeated my thought. She had a serious expression on her face, she wasn't cheerful like before. She really wanted to charge my fucking phone.

"But, for a phone charg..." I stopped myself. What am I doing? This was a clear invitation into her house. Take it, idiot. 

"...okay sure. Let's go."

"Great!" Kerry jumped with joy. She ran around the car and opened her driver door as I squeezed myself into the passenger seat. "Don't worry. I only live like a few blocks away."

----------

SCENE FIVE: Battery Life 100%

----------

The house was dark inside, as I couldn't make out anything. Finally, she reached towards the wall and flipped the light switch. Miraculously, the entire house lit up. The place was small. Looks like a two bedroom house. The walls were white and it smelled like pine cones. Must be the air-freshener. One step inside and I can officially say 'I was at a chick's place last night'. That sounded cool. I looked at the clock located on the wall. 1:12am. Well, I guess I can say I was technically 'at a chick's place this morning'.




Self-Awareness Ch. 01



"Alright, my charger should be in the bedroom. My roommate should be at her boyfriend's place tonight so it's just me and you." Kerry said, walking towards a room in the hallway which I assumed was hers. She glanced back and saw I was still waiting out there in her living room, admiring the white paint job on the wall. "Don't be shy, Ryan. You can come in if you want."

"Oh yeah, sure," I hesitated. I blushingly walked to where she was, her head poking out the doorway looking at me with a grin on her face. She could tell I was nervous.

I entered her room and the first thing I noticed were the Hello Kitty dolls. They were all scattered on the bed, dressers, and the small corner of her room. There were a few misplaced clothes lying on the floor, including some very naughty underwear which she quickly tossed into her closet, hoping I didn't see. Oh, but I did see! Another dresser was placed across the bed, with a wide mirror and an array of makeup and other shit I didn't care so much about. She also had a poster of Shia Labeouf hung up for some reason.

"I really like Hello Kitty," she fearfully admitted with her hands held behind her back.

"That's okay, I do too," I said, smiling. 

She smiled back.

"Here let me take your phone, I'll charge it for ya." Kerry took my phone as I stood admiring this alien bedroom. It's been awhile since I stepped into a female's wonderland. I wanted to take a picture of this for safekeeping, if only I had my phone.

"So Ryan, while it's charging, how have you been?" Kerry asked, deciding to make small talk.

"Good, it's been good. Work, school. Same stuff. I've been trying to write more, maybe a novel or a..."

*Meeeeeorraowww* The sound of a kitty cat interrupted us again. She must have gotten a text message. Kerry grabbed the phone from her front pocket and checked who it was from. Within a few seconds, she flung the phone onto the bed with a gigantic frown on her face.

"Who was that from, if you don't mind me asking?" I asked.

Kerry looked at me with distress. "Oh, umm. That was Xavier. You remember him right? He's working late and I guess he's bored all the time so he texts and calls me at random times."

"Are you two still going out?"

"Yeah we're still going out," she laughed. "Going out, that sounds weird."

"Well, you two have been together for what? Eight, nine, ten years now?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah just about. Since freshman year."

"You ever thought of going further than just, going out?" I questioned.

She swung her body and sat onto the bed.

"Yeah well, I tried to convince him that, like, after almost a decade of being together, maybe we should think about marriage. How our future would look when we grow old and stuff. You know, starting the new phase of our lives. Or else, why are we still in this low-entry level of a relationship, you know?"

I nodded. I actually agree.

"Nine years. That's a long fucking time with just one person," she pouted under her breath. Then her voice rose again. "And all that time, doing what? Getting by, wasting time, still going to community college, and not even trying to find a decent paying job. I mean, even if we do get married, I don't see how our future can be successful with our current circumstances."

It looked like Kerry had been bottling this up for some time. And lucky me, I'm the one she gets to vent that frustration to.

"I've been talking to Wendy about this recently, actually. She got engaged like a few weeks ago if you didn't know. Xavier and I went to the party when her fiancé purposed to her. She said yes. Everyone clapped and cheered and cried. And Xavier, that doofus, still had no clue. He still wasn't sure about a future with me." Kerry confessed. 

She placed her face in between her hands and stared at the floor.

"But I can't leave him. He's been with me through thick and thin. As much as he's so pussy to taking this relationship further, he has always been there for me. But I've got a feeling he's only there for me because he doesn't know anything else. Just like me."

I sat next to her to try and comfort her. She reached out, held my hand and pulled me in closer.

"What does Xavier do? Like, where does he work?" I asked.

Kerry looked up and stared at the Shia Labeouf poster. God damn it why!? Why hang up a Shia Labeouf poster? It just doesn't make any sense.

"He's a security guard."

I followed her eyes to that Shia Labeouf poster. "A security guard? For who? Shia Labeouf?"

She gazed at me confused at first, then busts out laughing really hard. "What? No! For a news station!" 

I was being serious. I connected the clues like a detective. Shia Labeouf poster + security guard. 

"Oh, yeah... news station. That's a cool gig, right?" I asked, trying to stop the humiliation of my previous answer.

Kerry finished her laughter and placed her hand on my leg. She seemed vulnerable. Naked. I saw she really wanted a connection with me, more than friendship.

"How come you never asked me out, Ryan?" she questioned. The way she sounded when she asked was genuine.

"Hey what is this? An ambush?" I clowned. I didn't even know what that meant in context. I was trying to lighten up the mood... with my stupidity?

"Earlier you said you had a crush on me. I know you did. You always stared at me in Biology with those chubby cheeks and long hair. We never talked much but I knew. So, how come you never told me how you felt about me?" Kerry continued.

"Well for starters, you were still going out with Xavier." I replied.

"That's not stopping you now, is it?" she retorted with a little cute grin on the side of her right cheek. Seriously Ryan, stop saying 'cute', you fucking queer.

"Hmm... you got me," I confided. 

I soooo wanted to fuck Kerry at that moment and if she agreed, she'll be committing adultery. Yet, I was fine with it and apparently she was too. So is that okay? I'll let God decide. Until then, I wasn't going to let this fine piece of ass get away from me.

Quietness filled the room for what seemed like a lifetime as I gathered my thoughts. 

"Can I say something Kerry? To be honest, I had no confidence back then. I was a fat, ugly kid who was afraid to talk to people, let alone girls. I had issues with my physicality. Deep inside, I've always wanted to crack jokes, make people laugh, make people feel good about their day but I was afraid to communicate. I'm not sure why, but it was scary for me. I had trouble trusting people. But even with those insecurities, I did manage to find someone who loved me for who I am. Or so I thought. Since then I have been betrayed, kicked to the curb, having to find my way back home, sometimes literally. What I thought was love slowly grew to dishonesty and a big pile of bullshit. I appreciate people that can still believe in love, I do, but to me it's nothing. It's a false hope. Love only exists in fairy tales and romantic movies. That's why I started working out. That's why I started to eat healthy and work on bettering myself. I've been improving myself for a year and a half just so I can get to this exact point in time... just so I can build enough fucking confidence to finally ask you out, Kerry."

I'm no expert but I'd say we just shared a moment. Two souls finally revealing their inner demons. It's something we both needed to say to get on with our lives.

"It looks like I'm not the only one who needed to vent." Kerry said with laughter. "Do you say that to all the girls?"

"Yes actually, but you got the shortened version."

Kerry moved in closer, her hand holding onto mine. I can smell her perfume, the scent is getting stronger. I can feel her hot breath reaching towards my shirt, sending airwaves down my collar and rolling onto my chest. She placed her hand and reached for my cheek, pulling my face near to hers. 

"You don't need to ask me out, Ryan. The only thing I need from you is to fuck me," she whispered in the steamiest voice I've ever heard in my life. "Please. Fuck me."

The bulge in my pants cannot be hidden anymore. It's creeping down my right leg and Kerry is an eye witness to the whole crime. She stood up from the bed, hopping with both feet on the floor giddy like a baby bunny. 

"Show it to me Ryan. Show me your penis!"

"What!?" I was slightly offended. "No, show me yours first!"

"Show you my penis?" Kerry looked confused, then giggled. "Okay!"

Uh oh! If she whips out a cock, make a break for it. Jump out the window. It's not even a two story house, I'll land on some bushes or something, some twigs might poke me in the balls but I'll be fine. 

Kerry walked over to me and reached under the bed. With a few grunts she finally pulled out a shoebox. She opened it and flung out a flimsy blue dildo. Phew.

"Okay, your turn," she grinned with excitement.

"How about I take off my shirt instead?" I purposed.

"Fine, whatever, just take something off please!" she pleaded. Her breath grew louder and faster. She's getting super horny. I could hear it in her voice. I could see it in her body language.

I stood up and unbuttoned my shirt, but she intervened. "No wait! Let me do it please?"

I quietly nodded. She kneelt down and began from the base of my shirt, almost touching my enlarging groin but remained on task. Licking her lips, she targeted the bottom buttons, undoing the first three to reveal my abdomen. She gawked for a second and rubbed her fingertips over my abs. Her soft hands were caressing my torso and she even scratched me with her nails. "God, your body is so different Ryan."

"Yeah, I ain't that fat boy no more." I grinned.

She chuckled with eagerness and continued to unbutton the rest, her feet wagging like a happy dog. She tore open my shirt to reveal my entire upper body. Marveling at my changed body, she ran her hands over my chest and abs before taking off my entire shirt and throwing it onto the floor. With small kisses, she smeared lipstick over my skin, stroking my bicep and forearm, admiring my body.

I quickly turned her around. The bulge in my pants kept growing as I grinded my groin up against her tight backside. I slowly lifted her blue tank top by sliding my palms against her body. Bending my knees a little, I kiss her neck tenderly as my hands finally reached their destination, causing her to bite her lip and exhale warm air. Lifting the top just over her breasts, I unhooked her white 32B bra and let gravity drop it to the floor. 

I flipped her around so now she's facing me. She seemed shy baring her naked chest to me. Kneeling down, I kissed her flat belly, slowly working my way up to her tits. She grabbed her left breast and squeezed it as I eventually sucked on her right breast. Using my tongue to gently flick her hard nipple, I watched as she fidgeted and sighed with delight. With my left hand, I stroked down her body, touching her with my fingertips until I land my palm onto her firm ass still encased in those skin-tight jeans. I squeezed her asscheek strongly while I was pleasuring her nipple, slightly biting and pulling, letting it flop back to its original position. She sighed with pleasure and relief, and she knew we were just getting started.

I kissed her furiously. Her hands grabbed hold to the back of my head, powerfully pulling my face closer to hers. Our tongues fought back and forth like a sword duel to the death. We traded saliva until I released my mouth away from hers. A trail of spit curved until it formed into a water drop. Kerry licked it off my chin, and aggressively bit my lip. She wanted more. I was more than willing to give it to her.

Kerry escaped out of my arms and motioned me closer to the bed. She landed on her back, bouncing up and down a few times on the springy mattress. She elevated her back but I pin her down again, pushing my hands onto her shoulders. I crawled onto the bed and mounted her, parking my ready groin onto her chest.

"Okay now, show it to me!" she cried, staring at my colossal bulge waiting to be unbound.

The time has come to release the beast. I wanted to, I really did, but for some reason I was hesitant to do so. I still had insecurities, a weird reaction to have as I stood on top of a half-naked beautiful woman. 

She threw her hands onto my belt and began to undo the buckle. 

"Hold on, wait!" I frantically held onto her hands, which were still clasped onto my belt.

She looked seductively at me. "It's only fair. You had the opportunity to rate my ass, now it's my turn to rate your fat cock." Fat. That word used to offend me. But not when it's used in that context.

"To be fair, I still haven't seen your naked ass." I joked. I saw her rolling her eyes.

"God, just show it to me already!" Kerry moaned with frustration. 

Being naked is a liberating feeling. I should take grasp of it. It's the ability to trust the other's vulnerabilities, flaws and strengths as well as your own. I already explained to her how I felt; now it's time to ultimately show her.

I gently rested her hands onto her chest as I unbuckled my belt and popped the button from my pants. The only thing remaining was the zipper. Wanting her to unzip it, I stood there waiting. Through some sort of telekinesis, she understood what I was thinking and grabbed onto my pants with two hands. With one hand holding on to the top of my jeans, she used her other hand to finally undo the zipper. With each zip, it created a small vibration through the barrier of my denim, to my boxers, and finally my cock. As she reached the bottom of the zipper, she grabbed both my pants and boxers, wriggling them downward. My dick was still stuck in between my underwear, encased from freedom. With a little wiggle myself; I finally revealed my concealed weapon, springing up to life in front of Kerry's big brown eyes.

"Whoa!" she screamed, her eyes and mouth wide open from the reveal of my manhood. "That cock is huge!"

"Is it?" I asked.

Kerry snickered. "Uhh, yah! That thing is enormous!" Her gaze was glued to my cock, gradually moving her eyes back and forth from the tip of my penis to my balls.

"Well...?" I asked, trying to break her concentration on my penis.

"Well what? You want me to try and suck that huge thing?"

"No. I mean, yes I do. But first give me your rating. Remember?"

"Oh yeah. Umm, I'll have to give it 10 inches out of 10." she giggled proudly.

"Weird thing is I've never actually measured it."

"You serious? Want me to find a ruler?" she asked.

"Do whatever you want, Kerry." 

She smiled and inspected my rod, holding onto the head of the dick as she cautiously touched the skin like it's a piece of fragile prehistoric fossil. 

"I'm gonna try to fit this thing in my mouth now."

I look down as she struggled to fit a good portion of my dick down her mouth. It might have been the position we were in. She scooted from under me so she can have better placement to engage her battle with my cock. Bending down to her knees, she landed on all fours and lifted up my dick, carefully licking the tip. 

Kerry definitely knows how to tease. Her soft, wet tongue barely grazed my sensitive head, sending signals of pleasure in small doses. She mixed those lollipop licks with plump kisses from her velvety lips. 

Using both her tiny hands, she gyrated the stroking of my shaft as she gobbled up the crown of my penis. I became paralyzed as if she had me on puppet strings. I sat there with my knees down, sitting on of my own feet and my hands palmed behind me onto the bed as Kerry increased her rhythm.

She plopped her mouth off my glans, but her stroking hands were still in motion on my shaft. "I want you to fuck my face," she says as she clears her throat.

I whimpered in agreement. I've never done such a thing. It felt a little forceful. Wouldn't it hurt her throat? Oh well, if she wanted it, I guess I could give it a try. I brushed her dark black hair aside from her face as long strands were getting stuck to her mouth.

"Lay down. Fuck my mouth on your back. That's how I want it," she commanded, as she pushed me down onto the bed with my legs split apart. 

"Umph!" she incoherently muffled. She was back in control and took me deeper than before, trying to familiarize her small throat to the thickness of my cock. After a few tries, she pulled her head back off my dick, coughing for air. "Okay. Now it's your turn. Fuck the shit out of my mouth!"

"Shit? Out of your mouth?"

"It's dirty talk, honey. Get used to it." she explained. Kerry got on all fours again but this time positioned towards the side of me. Our bodies created an 'L' shape from a bird's eye view. She slobbered my dick a few times to get it nice and slippery as she opened her mouth the widest she can. Her shiny brown eyes looked towards my direction. She was set to get drilled in the face.

I grabbed her head and gradually raised my hips to meet her face. Her skull remained stationary, gurgling when the first thrust hit the back wall of her mouth. I pulled back and attacked her esophagus again, with another strike that collided at the end of her throat. I don't think I could make this dick go down any further, as she was only able to take at the most half of my rod. Trying to heat things up, my thrusts remained the same level of strength but increased at a quicker rate. Her gurgling turned into cartoonish duck sounds, quacking in rhythm as my cock rammed into her throat. Saliva looked like spider webs as they dangle off her lips connected to my shaft.

With tears rolling off her cheeks, partially melting away her makeup, she closed her eyelids and finally released the suction of her mouth from my cock. Breathing heavily, she tried to inhale through her nose, clearly making her runny nose audible.

"Oh hell yeah! Stay there. Don't move. I wanna test drive this," she announced. Man, Kerry's unexpectedly enthusiastic about sex.

"Damn, you're freaky." I confessed, as Kerry stood up and started to unbutton her jeans.

"I'm freaky? How?"

"I don't know. You seem so innocent. I pictured you holding hands on the beach and lighting candles and shit. Who knew you were into getting face fucked?"

Kerry wiggled her jeans to her knees, her pants so snug it was getting stuck to her thighs. She was making small grunts with her failed attempts to fully disrobe.

"Maybe you should take off your boots." I suggested. She was so worked up she forgot to take off her shoes first.

"You were always the smart one, Ryan. That's why I always copied classwork off of you."

"You copied off me? But you're Asian?" I joked.

Kerry laughed as she finally dropped her pants to the floor, naked with nothing but a white silky thong. Those toned thighs, flat stomach, and perky tits all ready for my doing. She slunk back into bed and climbed onto my body, slowly scanning my features as she moved closer. Her B cups pressing onto my chest, and her hard nipples were sliding across my skin as she finally reached my face. Opening her mouth, she consumed my lips in an extended heated kiss.

She pulled back with a concerned look on her face. "You don't happen to have any condoms do you?"

Condoms? I haven't bought any in quite some time. "Don't worry, I'm clean." I politely said.

"So, I guess that's a no then?" Kerry assumed, wanting a clarification. I just shrugged. 

"Want to use one of Xavier's?" she offered, pointing at the large dresser across from us. I nodded. Sure, let's use your long-term boyfriend's rubber behind his back. That seemed reasonable.

"Okay." I replied. Kerry hurriedly went through her dresser, fidgeting through what seemed like a decent supply of condoms. Finally deciding on one, she closed the drawer and hopped back into bed. Ripping the grey wrapper and tossing it to the side, she placed the rubber on my tip and 'tried' to roll it back onto my shaft. 'Tried' is the key word.




Self-Awareness Ch. 02



Chapter TWO: You Need To Get Out More

Read the first chapter. It's been AWHILE since I posted here, hopefully I can be more productive in the future. These ideas were loosely influenced off of my real life experiences, combined with missed opportunities and personal fantasies. The story is complete fiction; however many of the situations are exaggerations based off real life. Most of the names in this series have been changed, except for the people I hate.

Feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading!

-----

SCENE ONE: Santa Isn't Real

-----

"Everything leads to pussy."

I was enjoying such a quiet, comfortable breakfast before my idiot roommate had to interrupt my peace. 

I gave my plucky roommate a confused look as I hovered a spoonful of cornflakes over my shiny white bowl of cereal. A small drop of milk fell from the bottom of my spoon and landed into a pile of empty calories and milk. What the hell is Dylan up to now?

"Morning to you too," I mumbled. I foresaw a senseless conversation approaching.

Dylan was standing right outside his room, dressed in only his baggy grey pajama bottoms. He inched closer to the kitchen table and sat down in front of me. The look of determination on his face cannot be missed.

"Everything leads to pussy, Ryan," he repeated. "I am the reason you fucked that hot Asian chick."

I knew I smelt something fishy. Dylan and his 'girlfriend' Megan tried to hook me up with an oompaloompa last night. Annalisa was her name. I'm sure she's a decent girl, but I didn't want to get involved with someone driven by the motives of my friends. Call me selfish. Plus it didn't help she was atrocious looking. 

Anyways, this whole journey was to nab a girl by myself. It was to overcome my recent depressive attitude towards sex, work, and life in general.

Then along came Kerry. Like a dues ex machina, appearing right before my very eyes. This sex angel floated towards me at the party while I was talking to her beautiful blonde friend Wendy. Kerry wasn't just any normal 23 year old girl. We had some history. I had a teenaged crush on her back in the good ol' days of high school. Our history and deep emotions started to unravel once we started conversing about our relationships and situations in life. The sex we had wasn't anchored to the past; it was about getting what we both finally wanted. What we both deserved.

Dylan's statement about how he was the reason why I hooked up with Kerry was just plain wrong. I did it by myself. Plus the vision of my sex romp with Kerry was still fresh in my mind. It did just happen like 10 hours ago.

"Is that so?" I asked.

Dylan straightened his back. His arms were folded and he closed his eyes, as if he were meditating. "Give me a word. Any word."

"A word for what?" I asked.

"I'm about to prove to your ungrateful ass how everything leads to that sweet, juicy promise land known as... the vagina."

I was puzzled. What was Dylan really up to? Is this some sort of mind trick he's pulling on me? "Fine, you said any word right? Tire. Like a tire on a car," I mumbled with a mouthful of corn flakes.

Dylan shifted his posture into a slouching position, then raised his crummy head and looked precisely at me. I seriously didn't know what he was up to.

"Okay. A tire is made out of rubber. Rubber is also a slang term for a condom. A condom is used on a penis. And that condom-covered penis goes inside a vagina. BOOM!"

I pushed my bowl of cereal to the side with a small grin on my face. "Really? So you crawled out of bed and disrupted my breakfast for that?"

Dylan slammed his fist into the kitchen table. "Another word, damn it!" Dylan shouted. He seemed so determined, yet at the same time disappointed I didn't match his same passion. I guess I should keep playing along.

"September 11th," I said, with the intention to stump Dylan in his own stupid game.

"Okay. 9/11. Hijacked planes crashed into the twin towers. Extremist Muslims hijacked those planes. Their motives to hijack the planes were based on their misguided religious beliefs. Because of this, according to their misguided beliefs, they were promised 72 virgins in the afterlife once they blew themselves the fuck up. And now they're buttfucking 72 virgins in heaven."

I just looked at him with one eye larger than the other. "I hate to say it, but that's fucked up and quite impressive."

"Thank you," Dylan said with a wide grin.

"You do know that having sex with a butthole isn't technically the vagina," I fired back.

"Don't belittle my point! You got the gist right?" he retorted.

I let out a conquered sigh. "So remind me, what does buttfucking virgins in heaven have anything to do with me again?"

"Oh, I was just connecting the dots on how I got you laid last night," he said.

"Well nothing happened between us," I said quietly, looking at my cornflakes swimming in a pool of milk.

"Bull fucking shit. You came home this morning at around 10:00am. What the fuck did you two do all night?" he questioned, raising his voice.

Dylan's loud mouth woke up Megan, who shuffled her way out from Dylan's room and into the hallway. I could hear her approaching from how her socks scuffled on the hardwood floor. Last night at the party she had long, ravenous hair flowing from her scalp and landing softly onto her back. This morning, her hair transformed into a frizzy, intertwined mess. She's the definition of someone with bedhead.

"What the fuck are you two on about?" she asked in a raspy, groggy voice.

She fixed an oversized white shirt that belonged to Dylan over her petite body. Her toned legs poked from under that shirt, with her thighs glistening from the sunrays that pierced through the living room window. Her makeup was washed away, but she still looked incredible without any added powders, chemicals, or creams smeared across her face. She was a knockout. In other words, she's attractive no matter what time of day it was. And again, no I'm not going to bang Megan. Just being the good ol' descriptive person that I am.

"Babe, sorry to wake ya." Dylan brushed his fingers across her face. "I was just trying to pry some information about Ryan's sexual adventure from last night."

Megan shook her head at me and began walking towards the kitchen table. "You know Kerry has a boyfriend right? A long-term boyfriend?!"

"Oooooooooooo!" Dylan gasped as if he was part of an audience in a sitcom. Boy do I really hate sitcoms.

Megan giggled at Dylan's response. "Don't worry Ryan; I'm not the type of girl that spreads rumors." She winked at me, like a devious kitty cat.

I gave her a knowingly nod. Oddly enough, I don't know much about Megan. We never had a chance to get to know each other, other than the usual information you would list in the About Me section on Facebook. For all I know, she could be the biggest tattle tale ever.

"So how did you seal the deal with this chick?" Dylan asked. "Did you use the classic 'my pet just died so I saved a Google image of a random puppy and pretend that it was my recently dead dog' technique?"

"No. Actually I didn't do anything clever or smooth. I was myself for once. I told her the truth." I responded.

"The truth? Man you're funny," Dylan laughed. His laughter came to a screeching, serious halt. "Wait, so are you finally admitting that you had sex with her?"

I peeked at Megan before I gave an answer. She's the one that could manipulate this into a disaster. She could run off with her girlfriends and gossip about this whole thing. I feel like I'm back in high school, and those were the most obnoxious four years of my life.

"We had a good night, how about that?" I finally gave in.

Dylan and Megan both smiled at each other.

They both smiled... why did they smile? Wait, I know those smiles. Oh fuck, I hate this strange sensation I'm having. The room grew darker. I felt weak. My bones shook and crumbled like graham crackers. The bowl of cereal right in front of my hands looked as if it was out of my reach. I remember this sensation now. That old well-known feeling of... deception.

"Hey, I fucked her, alright?!" I yelled at the bottom, middle, and top of my lungs.

"Whoa, okay yeah we got it. You had a 'good night' with her. No need to yell." Dylan chuckled with Megan.

"No, it was me and only me. I fucked her. I am the reason why I fucked her. You two didn't do shit! You guys didn't help so quit saying you did. It was all me. I did it all. Stop saying you were responsible for the things that I've done. IT WAS FUCKING ME!"

Dylan and Megan seemed spooked by my sudden outburst, but Dylan cracked a smile even wider.

"Yo, listen to this guy. Me, me, me. We got a fucking Kanye over here eating all our cornflakes." Dylan said, egging me on.

"Seriously Dylan, don't even start man. Sometimes I don't even know why I hang out with you," I fired back. He saw that I wasn't joking. We normally joke around even on serious matters. But for me at the time, this matter was too serious to joke about.

There was an uneasy tranquility in the kitchen area as my cornflakes had grown soggy, drowning in milk and betrayal.

"Plus, you two wanted me to hook up with Annalisa. Stop making shit up and taking credit for something I'm actually capable of doing for once." I added.

Dylan continued to smile, but Megan had enough. "We gotta tell him," she said while looking at Dylan.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

Megan sat down next to Dylan, holding his hand on the table like they were going to give me some bad news at a doctor's office.

"Look, Ryan. I told Kerry you were going to be at the party. I showed her your Facebook page. She knew about the little crush you had with her back then." Megan looked at Dylan. His face was sincere. Why are they taking this so serious? Why am I taking this so serious?

"Okay, wait. That doesn't make sense. Kerry didn't recognize me. I was a fat fuck back in high school. She kept complimenting about how different I looked now. If she saw my Facebook then she woulda known how I looked like now."

"I don't know Ryan. All I showed her was your profile picture and a few random pictures with you, me, and Dylan. Plus she's kinda insane and loves to act stupid in certain situations. Maybe she didn't recognize you because pictures are so different than in real life. Or maybe she wanted to put on a front so she could break the ice with you," Megan responded.

"She never responded to my texts after you guys left Annalisa's place. Or this morning either. She's probably with Xavier right now," Megan added.

"Speaking of Annalisa. I thought you two were hooking me up with her. You can't say you weren't. Everyone at the fucking party knew about that. Are you saying you did some fucking Ocean's Eleven type of shit and orchestrated a crazy ass scheme to hook me up with Kerry? And had this Annalisa thing as a cover for it!? Also you knew Kerry was still with Xavier for however many years, why hook me up with her!? Explain that to me!" I demanded.

"We didn't orchestrate a crazy ass plan. We just set the pieces together and watched how it played out. Yes, we told some people about you and Annalisa. However, Kerry was a plan B. We knew that if she was at the party and saw you, she would be riding your ass throughout the night. I personally didn't expect it to happen that quickly."

I pushed my bowl of cereal away from me. Like a little toddler not wanting to eat his vegetables.

"And with the whole Xavier thing, Kerry's been bored with him for a long time now. That's all she talks about whenever I hang out with her. She cheated on him a couple of times during these past few weeks. Their relationship is going to shit," Megan added.

I stared at Megan in disbelief. Who does she think she is for even trying to strategize something like this for me? They truly believe I can't go out and get a girl by myself.

"Think of us like your parents," Dylan finally chimed in. "We could tell you that Santa is real, but one day we're going to tell you the truth. You know, that he doesn't really exist. Not because we don't want to lie to you, because people lie all the time. It's because we don't want this Santa fucker taking credit for the sweet gifts we gave you for Christmas. It was our gifts that we bought with our own money!"

"Shut it," I aimed at Dylan. "You two honestly don't think I had some part in me having sex last night? You're not giving me any credit at all? I sat down next to your hot friend Wendy and sparked a conversation with her. I'm the one that engaged conversation with Kerry. I'm the one that went to her place and fucked on her bed. That will get no credit at all?!"

"Everything leads to pussy, Ryan." Dylan repeated. "Without us inviting you over to Annalisa's party, you wouldn't have gotten laid. Accept that."

I was drained. This was going nowhere. "Yeah fuck this. I'm going out."

"Where you going? You finished all the cereal and now you're leaving?" Dylan asked.

"Fine, I'm sorry I ate all your precious fucking cereal. I'll stop by the grocery store. I just need to get the fuck out of this house right now and clear my head."

"Ryan, please realize that we were just trying to help," Megan apologetically uttered.

"You wanna get high before you go?" Dylan asked, pointing at the pipe on our coffee table.

I didn't respond to them. I placed my bowl in the sink and went to put on my shoes. 

Man, the fucking nerves on these two to think that I need to be hand-held to score with a chick. If I did it yesterday, I could certainly do it in the future. It can't be a one-time thing. It can't be because Kerry was already into me or that she's having a shitty relationship with her boyfriend. My confidence had something to do with it, right?

Plus, that's not how it works. Girls don't throw themselves on guys. Men are the ones that have to approach women. They ask them out. The women are the gatekeepers. They need to say 'yes' or 'no' to the offer. That's how it's been since forever. Chicks don't go up to men and jump their bones. That's some fantasy shit. It's what all men wish would happen because they're too scared to ask a girl out. But it never happens. The fear of rejection is heartbreaking. That's why in porn, the women are always the aggressive ones. They approach the men with a clear message to have sex. The men in porn are the ones that have to say 'yes' or 'no'. But in reality, confidence is the main attribute. To not fear rejection or heartbreak. I still think I have some of that confidence in me from last night.

I tied my loose shoelaces, grabbed my car keys and headed out the door.

-----

SCENE TWO: Frustration

-----

I need to get out of here. I need to smoke. I reached for my pockets and pulled out my cigarettes. There was only one left rattling around in the crumpled up box. And stupid ol' me, I forgot to bring my lighter. Because of my frustration, I left the house without it. And, for some reason, the cigarette lighter in my truck doesn't work. I should really fix that. Well, fuck it. I'll head to the grocery store and buy a new lighter along with a fresh pack.

On the way to the parking lot, I was feeling the cravings. My body was shivering. I felt like a gay crack addict. And the fact that I was driving ten miles per hour in a busy parking lot, watching fat ladies waddle to their car pushing a shopping cart filled with frozen burritos and Dr. Pepper, wasn't helping. I was going to park in the first open parking spot I saw.

The sun blinded my face as I exited my truck. That woke me up. Walking to the entrance I saw two black chicks standing next to a Redbox. They were laughing and smoking cigarettes. Such a fucking beautiful cigarette. It was something about the way their thick lips wrapped around that long skinny cylinder; taking a puff and releasing a cloud of carbon monoxide and liberation. Jesus Christ, how I needed some nicotine in my system right now.

Smokers are usually generous people. The ones that I've encountered, at least, were generous. I'm usually the one that hands out a cig to a guy that's begging for one. But from my experiences, I've had some great conversations with smokers. It's the one thing that could bring total strangers together. We shared something in common, which is slowly killing ourselves. And isn't that something we can all relate to? I'm sure these two girls are willing to let me spark my last cigarette.

"Hey," I said, breaking their conversation as they focused their attention onto me.

"Hi," replied the girl on the left. She was the taller of the two, but only by a few inches. Her body was much skinnier than her friend on the right. The curls in her black hair blocked a portion of her right eye, as I scrolled down her gaunt face and stopped at her collarbone. There was a small tattoo of an unrecognizable symbol near her shoulder. Her breasts were small, but were proportional to her frame. The red short-sleeved shirt she wore contrasted her darker skin. She was also sporting some tight black yoga pants that defined her petite legs. She began to take another drag off her cigarette, with the filter covered of sugary saliva and pink lipstick.

"Sorry to bother you ladies, just wondering if I could get a light?" I asked.

The two girls looked at each other, and then giggled. For some reason, seeing them smile made me nervous. I wasn't nervous when I approached them, but making them smile forced my eyes to stare at my shoes. I really need some new shoes.

"So, big boy. You wanna use our lighter, huh?" the girl on the right asked. Her smile was sunny and bright. Her warm, unnaturally blonde hair flowed straight onto her shoulders. She was much curvier than her friend. I could tell she had a nice round ass just from staring at her from the front. She had a nice rack as well; I'm guessing a C-cup. Her tight, white tank top showed off her fantastic cleavage. Cocking her wide hips, she stood confident, showing off her caramel legs in her short jean shorts. She captured the essence of a Beyoncé song, too bad her physicality couldn't match the image of the singer. But who am I really to complain?

"Don't feel so special. She calls everyone 'big boy'," said the taller girl on the left.

"Thanks, now I don't feel so special anymore," I chuckled. They both looked at each other and smiled again. "So, can I get a light?"

"You look like shit," said the curvy girl on the right. It seemed like the bitch couldn't answer a fucking yes or no question with a yes or a no. And here I thought smokers were polite.

The taller girl pointed her finger at me. "She's trying to study you. She's taking psychology. Now she thinks she understands human behavior and shit."

"So, does she insult every person she studies?" I asked.

"Pretty much, yeah," the taller girl replied.

The curvy girl closed her eyes and began to take another drag off her cigarette. She was teasing me with the sound of the cigarette tip crackling through the air. God damn this chick was getting on my nerves.

Then she exhaled. "Listen boy. I'll let you use our lighter if you answer my question," the curvy girl asked.

I felt defeated. Where the hell is this going today? First it was Dylan's stupid game, and now this chick is playing with me. I surrendered to her weird game and gave in. "Fine, whatever. What's the question?"

"What's your story?"

"My story? What do you mean? Would you like to know where I was born? Or how I drove here from my house? You gotta be more specific than that."

"Never mind then," she sighed as she fixed her white tank top. Her tits jiggled from the motion. She caught me staring at her gorgeous rack and my eyes darted back at my dirty shoes.

"Negative body language. Problems with eye contact. I'm still studying you, by the way," the curvy girl announced. Her tall friend gave her a nod.




Self-Awareness Ch. 02



"You can study me all night," I replied. Not my best flirty comeback but whatever.

"Get your mind out the gutter," the tall girl barked back. Her remark made the curvy girl giggle her pants off. I gotta say, they make for an odd coupling of girlfriends, but they're cute in a strange way. Ryan, don't say cute for the rest of this chapter, please.

"So, can I continue studying you? Big boy?" the curvy girl gently asked. She wasn't authoritative the way she said it this time. Her tone was sensual. I could imagine her moaning out 'big boy' while I was railing her from behind. All while her spicy ass flopped onto my stomach, grabbing her by the waist and slamming my thick cock into her so hard her big asscheeks would cause tidal waves from the force. And I guess her friend could be in the corner masturbating or something too.

"Sure. Go ahead. I could be your test dummy, I guess."

"You are a dummy, aren't ya?" the tall girl said while laughing. Really? Well, I guess I can't complain after my 'you can study me all night' remark.

"Okay then. First off, as I said before, you look like shit. But you don't look like a homeless man begging for a cigarette, or worse, money. You look disappointed. You seem dirty, not physically of course, but in general. Although right now, a nice warm shower wouldn't be the worst thing for ya. You still have on the same clothes you had on since last night. That means you want to remember what happened to you last night, whether if it was a positive memory or a shameful reminder to do better today."

"...alright," I mumbled.

She continued. "Something happened to you this morning. You're so desperate to smoke you forgot your own lighter. But deep inside you wanted to leave your lighter at your house. You're seeking to find a connection with a human being in any hopeless way possible. Whether you knew it or not, you were hoping to ask someone for a lighter before you head inside the grocery store."

"Nice examination," I said with a surprised look on my face. "Now, what's your final analysis of me?"

"Oh, you're just having a bad day." They both laughed as they finished their cigarettes and flicked it onto the concrete.

I guess she was right on some aspects. It was fairly vague the way she examined me. She reminded me of how a fortune teller would fraud stupid people into snatching their money. But I would be lying if I said she didn't hit the right notes.

The tall girl dove into her pocket. The shiny fabric on her black leggings shimmered as I saw a blue Bic lighter approach from her pocket, her fingers wrapped around the fire-making instrument. My prize.

She handed it to me and I graciously accepted. I reached for my last cigarette and sparked the lighter in front of it. The tiny chemical reaction lit the tip, and I could feel waves of smoke crash from my throat, traveling into my lungs. Tiny little needles poked my soul from the inside as my body absorbed the future lung cancer I'll most likely have. It was worth the wait.

I exhaled the smoke while closing my eyes. Tears almost leaked from my eyelids. "Thank you."

The two girls giggled. "Wow, you were really are having a bad day, huh?" the tall girl asked.

"Yep," I took another drag off my last cigarette and exhaled again. "You don't wanna know."

"Maybe I do. C'mon, you can tell me," the curvy girl smiled. She bit her bottom lip, showing off her front teeth. All of a sudden, my frustration from her teasing turned into a crazy attraction. She released that Beyoncé aura to full effect. It was enough to give me a half erection just from staring at her mouth. Her sweet lips could suck me dry till I turned into a skeleton. Fuck, she's IS getting me hard.

"You two done yet?" I heard a male voice behind me. The two girls peered over my shoulder, as I followed their stare. A tall, buff black guy wearing a long white T shirt and jeans motioned them to come to him. It was probably one of their boyfriends.

"Gotta go!" the tall girl said. They both walked passed me as I stared at both of their asses swaying towards the buff dude. That curvy girl definitely had a big luscious ass, as I watched it jiggle, even in jean shorts. I better not get involved unless I wanna get fucked up by that black guy. In the background, I could hear the guy yelling nonsense at one of the girls.

I finished my cigarette and tossed it onto the ground. However, still clinched in my hands, I realized I still have their lighter.

-----

SCENE THREE: Transaction

-----

After filling up my shopping cart, I strolled towards the checkout lines, scouting the register with the least amount of people. To my luck, my two smoking buddies from before were waiting in line along with that buff black dude.

I parked my cart right behind them, observing an old man with a cowboy hat at the front of the line unloading his items on the conveyer belt. The taller girl turned around and smiled. "Oh hey, it's you again," she said. As she was talking, the blonde curvy girl with the amazing ass turned around as well.

"Yes, it is I again." Holy shit I'm retarded. Who would say that? "I still have your lighter, by the way." I dug into my pocket and handed the lighter to her. The taller girl frowned and pushed her eyebrows together.

"You know what, keep it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Think of it as a lucky charm. Looks like you need one after your bad day," she said with a wink.

I placed the lighter back into my pocket. "Thanks! I have about five lighters at home; guess I'll add one more to my collection."

The curvy girl peeked into my cart. "Corn flakes, fruits and veggies, hmmm? Interesting." She placed her hand over her chin and mouth, as if she was in deep thought.

"Aren't you nosy? You trying to studying me again?"

She laughed. "Nah, big boy. I ain't studying you. Was just thinking you could go in front of us if you want. You might be in line for a while." She pointed over her shoulder, referring to the guy in front of them with the trailer full of groceries getting scanned.

There she goes with that 'big boy' thing again. To be honest, I was barely paying attention. I couldn't help but stare at her delicious brown legs. Curving nicely to her round, wide hips. I bet she was a beast in bed. She could probably ride dick with ferocity, fiercely slamming her weight onto my cock. She seemed so sexually powerful just from her demeanor. A nasty, dirty, kinky little slut. Damn, all this thinking was getting my dick hard again. "That's okay. I'd rather stay behind you."

Her eyes opened wide and simply smiled while her taller friend was giggling. Finally, the buff black dude barged in. I kinda forgot he was there the whole time. "You tryina to get at my girl!?"

I figured his alpha-male tendencies would make him respond like that. I just shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't know."

"Damn Sean, chill out! We're just talking." The curvy girl turned around and patted him on the chest. Then she turned to me again, with her round booty sticking out like she was inviting me to mount her right in front of everyone. "Plus he's having a bad day."

"Oh really? I could make his day even worse if he doesn't behave his cornball ass." He eyed me down like we were going to fight. Jesus this guy was defensive. The curvy girl frowned at him while the taller girl giggled quietly. I'm guessing he must act like this every time they were out in public.

Everything was awkwardly silent as they placed their items on the conveyor belt. The curvy girl stepped in front to pay. The buff dude squeezed behind her and helped bag their groceries. The taller girl was next to her friend, watching me set my items onto the conveyor belt.

"You know, she never calls anyone 'big boy'," she smiled. I stared at her weirdly, then to her curvy friend.

"Shut up!" the curvy girl laughed, playfully slapping her taller friend's shoulder. Then she flashed me a shy smile. They both giggled as they left the store. I watched both of their asses wobble side to side into the daylight while the boyfriend was pushing the cart. I'm not sure what all this meant. Was I meant to pursue this? I mean, the fake blonde girl I liked had her boyfriend right next to her. I had to be some sort of pimp to take her away from him. Why can't I be like those cool hip hop songs, with me strolling up to a club and walking out with another man's girl? Then I'll be like, 'Yeah dumbass, I just stole your bitch. Have fun being alone for the night. I'm gonna fuck her tits off'. That'll be cool.

"That'll be $24.62," the cashier girl said.

"Oh, right. Sorry." I apologized. I pulled out my wallet and went to get my debit card.

"You know, I overheard your little conversation with those girls. They really liked you."

"Ya think?"

"Wow, you didn't notice huh? They were practically all over you."

"The one I liked was with her boyfriend. I couldn't really do anything anyways, so yeah."

"When did that ever stop you?" I looked at her with my eyebrows lowered. She continued while laughing, "Not you personally, just men in general."

As I returned my card back to its usual slot, I felt a strange texture on the bottom of my wallet. Turning it around, I revealed the stretched condom from last night glued to the leather of my wallet. I quickly peeled it off and 'accidentally' dropped it onto the slick grocery store floor. I then kicked it underneath the register table, afraid to touch it like it was a dead spider. Not my greatest moment in life, but I felt it was the correct thing to do at the time. Boy is the janitor going to find a surprise later tonight when he's sweeping the place.

I regained my composure and went back into conversation. "Well, it's tough trying to get what you want when you don't know how to get it."

"You gotta go out and freakin' take it. It's that simple. You can't let opportunities pass you by," she said as she handed me the receipt.

She flashed me a smile that could be generous or a fake façade used to increase customer service.

"You, um, you need help taking those out to your car?" she said with hesitation. I wasn't sure why she thought I needed help, as I didn't have many groceries, only four bags total. Then I finally got what she was doing. She was coming on to me. I guess that was the opportunity she was talking about.

"Sure, why not." I replied.

"Great!" She shimmied her way behind the register and helped bag my stuff. I looked behind me and saw three people still in line; the closest guy was staring at me with aggravation. "Paula, I'm gonna take my 30. Can you cover me till I get back?" she yelled out towards her coworker as she finished bagging the last of my groceries.

I never got the chance to really check her out. Unless register clerks were drop dead insanely beautiful, they could be invisible robots for all I care. First thing I noticed were her glasses. They had thick black frames, pushed in front of her brown, beady eyes. Her brownish blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. I couldn't estimate what type of body she had, since her apron and work clothes hid every curve in her upper body. From her black tights and the outlines of her thighs I could tell she had a boxy figure. Her skin was slightly pale, just an average white girl complexion. She had a normal vibe to her appearance. I could imagine her as that random girl you see reading alone at a library. If people still go to libraries. Or read.

I was pushing my cart towards the exit when I remembered my empty cigarette box and newly acquired lighter rattling in my pocket. "I still need to buy some cigarettes."

"That's perfect. I was in need of a smoke too," she laughed.

-----

SCENE FOUR: Helpful

-----

"I work part time here and part time teaching disabled kids with stuff. The parents set up an appointment and I go to their house training their child how to interact with basic things."

"Wow, that's awesome," I replied. "Is that what you've always wanted to do? Teach little kids?"

"I never knew what I wanted to be. You know? People are like, 'I'm gonna be a fireman or a rock star!' But I found something I was good at. Servicing others. I freakin' love it. And no, it's not for selfish reasons."

"I wasn't going to say that." We reached my truck and I opened the backseat door to unload my groceries inside. However, she quickly grabbed the first bag and placed it in the truck. "Although, being selfish isn't as bad as people make it out to be. Sometimes it's good to be selfish."

"What does being selfish really mean, though?" she asked. Her puzzling look of innocence was admiring. I wanted to pat her on the head.

"Well, I guess doing things for yourself before others."

"But I actually like helping people. Are you saying I shouldn't help people?" she asked, teasingly annoyed.

"No no no, if you are helping people in need that's understandable. But you have to make time to do things for yourself." She grabbed my last bag of groceries but kept eye contact as I was talking. "Like, what do you want to do right now?"

"I want to eat this banana." She ruffled through my bag and snapped off a banana from its bunch.

"Really? That's not what I was expecting."

She peeled the banana one sliver at a time with an evil smile. "Yeah, that's what I really want to do right now."

"Are you so hungry that you're gonna steal my banana and eat it in front of my face?" I teased. I had to admit I was a little bothered she was going to eating my banana. But something about her incredible lust to eat such a harmless fruit got me going in my pants. The sultry delivery. The desire in her eyes. OH I GET IT. Banana equals penis. Ahhh, I see what she's doing here.

"You wanna see a little trick I could do?" she seductively asked. Her sudden shift of being a helper to a selfish go-getter was abundantly clear.

"Please do."

She opened her mouth like a 7 Eleven door and inserted the freshly peeled banana into her mouth. It had to be about 3/4ths of the banana that she deep throated. Her lips were hidden in the floral design of the peeled skin. It was certainly a sight to behold. I could imagine my own cock in place for that banana, being devoured by a pretty little mouth with aggression. She then slid the banana out of her mouth with no gagging or choking. Like it was as natural as drinking water. She then chomped on a bite-sized portion of the fruit.

"Yummy," she said as she swallowed.

"That was, umm, rather impressive," I muttered out as she continued to finish my banana. She tossed the banana peel into the grocery bag and placed the bag onto the backseat. "What other tricks can you do?" I asked.

"Let me show you." She pushed me with force into the backseat, my ass squashing all the groceries. I quickly dropped the bags onto the floor, positioning myself so there's room for her as well. She crawled into the truck and closed the door behind her with a solid *SLAM*.

"Fuck me, is this really happening?" I questioned out loud. There goes my theory of how men have to pursue women into sex. Maybe the times have changed. Maybe this new age of feminism and the progressive nature of women had exceeded my fragile introverted mind. Or maybe this chick is the odd exception to the theory. I should stop overthinking, I'm about to score right now. If I question too much, I might blow this.

"Is what really happening?" she asked with a smile as she untied her apron, letting it fall over the grocery bags. I still couldn't make out her body type through her baggy shirt. But who cares, am I right? This weird girl just deep throated a penis-shaped fruit in front of my eyes for God's sake!

"Is this..." I motioned my hands all around, indicating this unusual situation. "...you, me. In the back of my truck."

She giggled.

"How come I never meet girls like you?" I asked.

"You need to get out more."

She hooked her fingers into the waistband of my jeans and tugged them closer to her. "Let's see what we have here!" With dedication, she unbuttoned my pants and went straight for my zipper. I lifted my hips up into the air so she can peel my pants like a banana, my jeans layered up to my knees. An engorged erection was peaking from my boxers and it definitely grabbed her attention. She repositioned her glasses and inhaled harshly.

She moaned as her hands were furiously rubbing in a clockwise motion, dragging her fingers over my balls and cock. She bit her lip and grinned when she felt the mammoth form of my manhood through the cloth of my boxers. "Take it off," she ordered. I pulled down my boxers, releasing my constrained dick as it smacked onto my abs.

"Okay! Well that's more than I bargained for," she yelped. She surprised me as one of her hands was quick to grab ahold of my shaft, now standing upright staring into the roof of my truck. It was impossible for her hand to close around the girth of my cock. "Is this all for me?"

"Now's the time to be selfish," I said. I thought that was a pretty good line to say, and it worked. She sat herself over my legs and began licking my cock head, with both her hands tugging along to my shaft. Her banana-flavored saliva was oozing down, creating a great lubricant for her double handjob. The pleasure was gradually getting immense. The non-rhythmic patterns of her stroking hands created levels of bliss, along with the teasing of her tongue to the underside of my glans. She knew how to build up the pressure.

Her licks evolved to kisses. It wasn't like the kisses from a nervous teenager's first date. She went full on. Sloppy, self-indulgent, and dripping with desire. She was consuming the tip of my penis like food to the needy. Her hungry, muffled moans made it tough to concentrate. She was sending me away with her talented mouth, and it felt amazing. She knew how to thoroughly clean a cock off.

"I don't think I'm ready to take all of this," she whispered to my dick. Her hands are now petting my cock like a cat, causing a mixture of smeared lipstick and rivers of spit to the inches of my shaft. Her fingers followed down the trail to my testes and massaged them with a hand full of sack.

"You've got big balls too," she laughed. I laughed too. Balls. It's such a funny word to say out loud. Balls. LOL.

She slipped my left nut into her mouth like a champ, leaning my cock to the right and jerking me at an angle as she swirled the ball with her tongue. What made it more gratifying was the direct eye contact she gave me while doing such an act. She sucked hard, so hard in fact I thought I'd end up like Lance Armstrong after this. She released the ball from her mouth with an audible *POP*, which made me flinch. "I think I'm ready to... mmm, damn. I'm so freakin' wet right now." She snuck her right hand into her pants to feel the wetness of her snatch.

"I wanna see how wet you are." I reached over to her pants aiming at her pelvic region. I was intending to pull off the bottom half of her work attire. Maybe try to get some fingering action. Or some rubbing of the clitoris. Or perhaps just to see how wet she really was. She halted my plan as she smacked my hand that was directed at her pussy.

"Nope. You just sit back. I'm done with the freakin' foreplay. I got 15 minutes till I get back to work. I wanna get you off."

"I wanna get you off, too."

"Maybe some other time, sweetie. For now, let me show you that other trick I could do."

She expanded her mouth wide and swallowed the head of my cock. After a few sucks, she would come off and spit the built-up slobber onto my hard dick. She would repeat this until my entire dick was shiny as metal. Both of her hands were on my shaft again as she lowered her lips a few inches below my helmet. Her blowjob technique was sloppy as fuck with strings of saliva trickling out of her mouth. Spit was drooling onto my pelvis, making the stroking unnecessarily lubricated for her hands. She was mechanical with it, like she knew exactly how to please my cock.




Self-Awareness Ch. 02



While she was blowing me, whenever she would go up from my dick, she would suck in her cheeks causing a vortex. Her hands would gyrate in succession, one hand from the base of my penis; the other hand would touch her pouty lips. She quickened the pace, watching as her blurred fists pumped faster and faster. The ravage activity caused her brownish ponytail to flail around the back of her head. The combination of the stroking and the suction on my sensitive head was too much to bear. I can feel my semen twisting in a blender at this point and I knew I was about to blow in mere seconds.

"Holy shit. I'm about to cum!" I gasped.

"Good," she said as she released her mouth from my cock. She continued stroking while opening her mouth slightly. "I want to eat this entire thing. I want to stick this huge freakin' cock down my throat. I want the tip of this giant cock to touch stomach acid as you blow a gallon of cum directly into my tummy."

Jesus Maroon 5 Christ. I was about to jizz my nutbag off from that description alone.

She didn't disappoint in her instructions. In one attempt she gobbled up half of my dick, taking my fat hog deep into her throat. I felt the walls of her throat constrict as my member was invading her esophagus. Going back up for air, she went down a second time. This time she took a few more inches than last time. Her hands crept under me and started to massage my balls. Her throat seemed to relax as she went for a third time, taking an incredible amount of inches. She was still a shy distance away from reaching the full amount, but it was quite remarkable nonetheless. Her hands were now on my hips, pulling me towards her, inserting every inch she wanted. The sight of her eyes opening wide, tears forming on the corners of her cheeks, and the absence of any gagging took me over the edge.

"Y-y-yeah, deep throat that banana, bitch," I said. Yeah, I seriously just said that out loud.

She closed her eyes and smiled. I could see her cheeks puffing up from her grin. Then she laughed. The vibration of her laugh tightened up her throat, with a small shockwave of shivers that traveled from my cock through my entire body. That was all I needed to blast a hefty amount of cum deep into her throat. She moaned loudly as rope after rope of my thick spunk slid down her throat into her hungry stomach. I've never came so hard from a blowjob.

"You almost made me gag," she laughed as she cleared her throat and wiped her lips.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It was funny." She slumped on top of me as I was recovering from a mind-blowing oral performance. "So, about that cigarette?"

"Oh yeah, here you go." I handed her a fresh new cigarette and one for myself. I pulled out my new lighter to spark her cig. Holding the lighter in my fingers, I realized this might just be a lucky lighter after all. "That was the best blowjob I've ever had."

"Thanks." She smiled with accomplishment as a puff of smoke exited her mouth.

"I guess you really do love servicing people, huh?"

"What makes you think I was servicing you? What if I was being selfish and just really wanted to blow you?"

"But how can it be selfish if you didn't get off?"

"Gratification doesn't always come from pleasing yourself. Sometimes what I want to do is to please others. You can't compare an orgasm I'll have to the orgasm you just had. Because without me, you wouldn't had cum the way you did. In a way, that's even more selfish. You didn't cum just now. I did. I made you cum like a freakin' ton of bricks. I just owned your orgasm."

Now I had the puzzled look. "So then, am I being selfish or was I servicing you?" I asked.

She grabbed her work apron and climbed out of the truck. "That's for you to decide, not me."

She naughtily waved goodbye and headed back into the store, puffing a trail of smoke along the way.

-----

SCENE FIVE: Moral of the Story

-----

I didn't get her number. I didn't even know her name. Well, I guess I do know where she works. How awkward would it be to go up to her and be like 'Hey remember me? Can you blow me again?' Yeah, today's been unusual.

I returned to a seemingly empty home, placing the groceries in the fridge and pantry. I sat on the couch and sparked up the remaining weed Dylan was offering me earlier on the coffee table. Maybe I could light up and drift into a cozy afternoon nap.

"Ryan?" Megan called for me from the hallway. She was in a tight white tank top and some striped boy shorts, which looked amazing on her as usual.

"Where's Dylan?" I asked.

"He went out jogging." She sat right next to me as I handed her the pipe and lighter. She gladly accepted.

"Jogging? Right now? Doesn't he have work at 3?"

"Yeah, I don't know." She exhaled and gave me the bowl. "Ryan, I'm sorry about earlier today. We shouldn't have been so mean."

"No, I was being the dumbass. You guys were just trying to help me. I shouldn't have stormed out like a teenager. I'm too old for that shit, ya know?"

"Well, we shouldn't have said we were the reason you got laid. I mean, you did do your part as well. I guess we didn't see your point of view. I guess we were being a little selfish."

I inhaled and laughed. Finally, I think I understand this whole dumb situation. What is this, a fucking sitcom life lesson or some shit?

"I get it. It's being selfish, but not really, right? Because, you were trying to help me get laid, and I did. I got laid realllllly good. But yeah, anyways like, don't think of it as being selfish. We all were thinking about the same goal and that goal was accomplished. You wanted to be a successful matchmaker and I needed to get my confidence back. We helped each other through our own greedy needs. Selfishness and helpfulness can go hand in hand." I inhaled and held the smoke in my lungs for a few seconds before blowing out a decent cloud of marijuana. "Thank you, Megan."

"Holy shit, Ryan. That was like, super thoughtful of you. Where did that genius come from?" We were both pretty stoned now. I could tell because I know I didn't make any sense and she must be high if she thought my dribble was inspiring.

"Actually, if you really must know, I came up with this realization when some girl was blowing me in my truck just now."

"Huh? Really? Who?"

"Some cashier girl."

"Was she hot?"

"She was okay I guess."

"What's her name? Maybe I know her."

"I sure hope not," I laughed. "I actually didn't get her name."

She paused and picked up the pipe, sliding it between lips but removing it to speak again. "That's fucking hot as hell."

"Tell me about it. I didn't know girls can be so freaky and spontaneous," I said.

She leaned forward and started to spark up the bowl with my lucky lighter. Then she shifted her laid back stare directly into me. She giggled through her nose as she was about to inhale. "Ryan, you need to get out more."



Self-Awareness Ch. 03



Chapter THREE: The Only Thing I Want To Finish

Read the previous chapters for sense being made. It's been AWHILE since I posted here, hopefully I can be more productive in the future. Most likely, not. These ideas were loosely influenced off of real life experiences, combined with missed opportunities and personal fantasies. The story is complete fiction; however many of the situations are exaggerations based off real life. Most of the names in this series have been changed, except for the people I hate.

Feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading!

*****

SCENE ONE: Depression or Cynicism

It's been a boring, uneventful three days since that cashier chick sucked me off in that parking lot.

As I drove to work this morning, the fragrance of her perfume still lingered in my backseat. For whatever reason, she's been stuck on my mind for half a week. It wasn't her looks that did it for me, but rather her attitude and the way she succumbed to orally please me. She had this drive I've never seen in a woman before. And I'm sure I'm not the first stranger she's ever felacio'd casually just for the fuck of it. I need to start living my life like that. No, not the 'sucking some stranger's cock' part, but the 'doing whatever I feel like doing' part. Yeah yeah, you keep telling yourself that. Go away gay thoughts.

I had to open the pizzeria this morning. It's not the best hours for me. 8am-5:30pm. It should be tolerable for ordinary people but not for self-deprecating night dwellers like me. The manager used to be a douche, complaining over every little thing I did. Probably didn't help that he had a military history. But after he promoted me to a 'person in charge', we became cool. I could go on about the cast of characters at the Italiano's pizza joint, but that's for another chapter.

When I got back home Dylan and Megan were fighting in their room. I could tell they were fighting because Megan was doing most of the talking. Dylan usually shuts up in their heated arguments, and to be fair -- no male can match the emotional firestorms that Megan can stir up. I took off my flour-covered, pizza sauce-splattered work attire and hopped into the shower. Ahh, refreshing.

A spray of steamy hot water snapped my neck sideways. It was burning hot but I loved it. The fog of steam from the shower clouded up the mirror. Good.

The mirror squeaks as I slid my palm over the glass, revealing my dumb face. After such a deserved showering I should be happier, but for some reason I felt miserable. I felt like dog shit, again. If I am depressed, two random spontaneous sexual encounters weren't the cure for it. I still don't feel confident or fulfilled.

Looking at my reflection, I ran my hand across my face. Smooth shaven. I liked my stubble but work requires their employees to shave everything off, face-wise. I suppose they don't want random hair particles in people's pizzas. Rubbing the top of my head, I remembered how long I had my hair back in high school. Now I have a Marine-style buzz cut. I like my hair now. Looking at the times in high school, my hair was ridiculous. Shit, everything was ridiculous back then.

Having a bedroom filled with useless junk didn't help with how I felt. I'm surprised I haven't seen a rat scamper around in this wasteland. I gotta clean up this place. Maybe tomorrow. I got dressed and sat myself down on my computer chair. It's a routine I've mastered for years. After turning on the computer, I ironically looked at a word document without any words documented. Nothing but blankness, just a white rectangle and a blinking cursor. This is more than writer's block. Why do I want to be a writer when I have nothing to say? I'm a 24 year old nothing. I haven't lived life. I haven't traveled or experienced interesting situations. As I rested my forehead onto the keyboard the sound of my bedroom door creaked behind me.

"Fuck this man. I'm tired of this shit." It was Dylan, obviously distraught. He dove onto my bed facing the ceiling.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Well for starters, she won't let me say anything. She keeps talking and talking and talking. I might as well be an inanimate object..." Dylan looked around the room. "...like this chair, or this empty bag of chips, or this pile of dirty laundry." He sat up now. "Dude, it's just a suggestion but maybe clean your room?"

"First off, when I said 'tell me about it' I meant it as an expression. I don't wanna hear about your stupid emotional fight with Megan. Second, I like my messy room. If you don't like it, you can leave."

Dylan collapsed back onto my bed and sighed. "I just can't do this anymore."

"You always say that." I turned my chair around and gazed onto my blank word document. "Is she still here?"

"Nah, I think she went out with Kerry and Annalisa. They're probably talking shit about me right now."

Oh, Kerry... *closes eyes and slowly smiles* 

Oh, Annalisa... *shutters with horror*

Dylan starts chuckling. "Seriously though, you should really get at Annalisa."

"Fuck you, are you trying to make me more depressed?" I jested.

"So you finally admit it. You have depression." 

"I doubt I'm clinically depressed. However, even if I was depressed, is it a breakthrough that I admitted it? Just because I'm self-aware of my depression doesn't lift the dark clouds over my head," I said.

Dylan didn't reply so I continued. "There's a reason why you and Megan wanted me to hook up with Annalisa in the first place. It's because I was such a bore when it comes to connecting with people."

"I dunno," Dylan said. He sat back up with sincerity masked over his face. "You shouldn't be so down on yourself all the time. Compared to others you don't have it that bad."

"I know that," I sighed. "People always say there are people less fortunate out there. Starving children in Africa. People with AIDS in Africa. Umm... some other horrible shit that's happening in Africa. Knowing there are people that have it worse than me doesn't make me feel better. That would be self-indulgent. 'My life is better than these people so that makes me feel good'. Fuck that. I don't like who I am right now and that includes all of my first-world problems. If you can't understand that, then keep comparing your own life with less fortunate people to make yourself feel better."

"Yeah, I don't think you're depressed," Dylan nods.

"I didn't say I was depressed. I said I felt depressed. There's a big difference."

Dylan chuckles again. "Yeah. Plus, I know I wouldn't be depressed after having some girl mouthfuck me in a parking lot."

Fucking Megan. "Of course Megan would tell you," I groaned.

"I'm mad you didn't tell me first. That shit sounds erotic as fuck!"

"Alright, keep it in your pants buddy. Oh yeah, that's the only place you can keep it. 'Cause you know, Megan's not talking to you right now."

"That's cold." Dylan pulled up his phone. It looked like he was checking his text messages.

"This is why I hate relationships; having a girlfriend sucks. You mean to tell me I have to sacrifice half of my life and give it to another person? I have personal goals and accomplishments to achieve. I don't have the time, effort, and money to spend it on some bitch that's not even important to me right now. My life is important right now. Then you fight over something stupid and you feel guilty and she makes you think you're an asshole. Isn't that how you feel right now?" I said, staring at Dylan. "You feel like an asshole, right?"

Now I wasn't sure if I was depressed or just cynical.

"You're like the Martin Luther King of frustrated single men. Can you say something that doesn't sound like a rehearsed speech?" Dylan laughed. He hid his emotional baggage deep underneath his smug grin. "You say you don't want a girlfriend. Are you saying that because you can't get one? You're single right now and I see a blank page on your computer. You have no excuses. You're not motivated to write, you're just scared. Get a girlfriend and shut up with your illogical bullshit already."

He had a point. Where did my drive to write go? If I wanted to be the best I can be, how come I'm too scared to enter the race? I can talk all I want, but until I step foot on the track I have no right to talk.

"That blowjob chick seems like girlfriend material, am I right?" Dylan mentioned.

I laughed. "I said I don't want a girlfriend."

"I'm sure you still think about her. C'mon. You're not that much of a robot to just toss her away like that." Dylan kept prying. He's good at that.

"I think about her but I don't wanna hang out with her. Sure, I want to actually fuck her. But she's not a person I would like to go rock climbing and cuddle with."

"What about Kerry?" Dylan asked.

"She's insane."

"What?! She's not that crazy."

"Trust me. She's quietly insane. The worst type of insane. I can see it in her ass," I quipped back.

Dylan laughed. "You mean, 'I can see it in her eyes'." Then he paused. "Well she does have an insanely bubbly little petite ass on her. And you hit that shit? What was that like? We talking anal here?"

This conversation was going nowhere. "What are we even talking about?" I asked.

Since writing my next story wasn't coming to fruition -- especially with my annoying roommate roaming around my bedroom -- I logged onto Facebook. There was nothing but memes and viral videos on my newsfeed, as per usual. Dylan stood up from the bed and sat next to me, watching me scroll down my newsfeed.

"Who was the last girl you dated? Amanda, right?" Dylan asked.

"Yep. Three years ago."

"Go to her page."

"Fuck that. I don't even have her on Facebook."

"And I've never even seen a picture of her. You probably made her up."

"Unfortunately she's real. A real cunt." Good one Ryan. #highfive

Dylan pushed in his scrawny arm over mine and went straight for the keyboard. "Let's see if we can find her."

"Dude, no. Fuck off!" I yelled as I swatted his hands away from the home row position.

With a small grin, Dylan sighed. "Jeez, so sensitive. What did this bitch do to you? I can't believe I still don't know the whole story behind this."

I sighed in defeat. "Do you really wanna know?"

"Fuck yeah! I got all day. It's not like Megan is waiting for me."

"Fine I'll tell you what happened. Just remember one thing."

Dylan laughed again. "Yeah, what?"

"I'm different now. I was a dumb fucking kid back then -- a dumb, fat, fucking pussy little kid."

SCENE TWO: No One Else

Just a disclaimer -- following this site's policies and term of conditions -- everyone in this flashback is 18 years old or over. Even though part of this flashback is in my high school years, these characters are not minors. My apologies, Jared.

It was the mid 2000's. The internet was starting to burst into popular culture. Teenagers began to see their social life decline into a series of shared videos and text on a computer screen. I don't mean to be pretentious, but I started being introverted way before my peers thought it was cool.

I moved around a lot in California. Traveling from small town to small town took a toll on my friendships -- the very few friendships I had. High school was the loneliest place on Earth. Everyone knew each other from childhood and formed their own social groups. However, it wasn't like how it's portrayed on TV or in the movies. The school wasn't divided by jocks, cheerleaders, or nerds. Shit, my school was so poor; it didn't even have recreational sports.

Back then, everybody had an urge to fit in. In some way, I still do. I was a quiet kid. I didn't talk much because...

"Will you get on with it? I ain't here to listen to a fucking biopic you over-explaining douche," Dylan said, interrupting my story.

"Hey asshole! I'm trying to create the scenery so you can understand how I was--"

"I get it. You were a fat, dumb kid that didn't fit in. Boo fuckin' hoo. Hurry up with the Amanda story,"

"Fucking dickhead. Fine."

One day in English class, the teacher split the class up into pairs for a big project. Apparently I paired up with Amanda's best friend -- Sally. I didn't care who I was partnered up with at the time since I hardly talk to anybody I'm unfamiliar with. Amanda kept begging me to switch with her so she can be grouped with her friend. Being the schoolboy that I was, I told her to ask the teacher. She did so, but the teacher refused.

Anyways, a few weeks go by and Amanda's partner for the class project didn't show up. We later found out her class partner had cancer.

Dylan laughs out loud.

"What the fuck, man?"

"Sorry," Dylan apologized while wiping his eyes. "I just didn't expect a cancer kid to be in the story."

I sighed, "As I was saying..."

The teacher found out about Amanda's partner and decided to group her with me and Sally. Amanda and Sally would basically take over the project as I sat there pretending to contribute. That's when I began my childish school crush with her.

My hand would press up against my chubby cheek, caught in an unbreakable stare. I started my gaze on her stone brown hair as it curled off in front of her face, swaying with every head movement. Her freckly face and fair skin seemed soft to the touch, unaffected by teenaged acne or pimples. I kept my gaze on her ruby lips as she talked to her friend, watching every consonant and vowel escape her tongue. Her bright brown eyes would meet mine, and then she would smile.

Amanda was unique in many ways. Even back then she had a reputation of a party girl. However, she had hints of a nerdy personality and very outspoken on certain political views. I got to know her more and we became great friends. In our many occasions after school we would hang out and talk about our problems with families and life in general. It was nice to have someone to bounce off my overthinking thoughts to. Plus, she was a pretty girl, so that helped as well.

I quickly became clingy to her. I would travel miles just to see her. Important situations and personal priorities were ignored because of her. So much effort was put into our relationship with the possibility that she might think we were more than friends. I would bring her flowers and gifts on special days -- I thought that's what romantic assholes would do. However, nothing happened. This resulted in me being frustrated. I couldn't comprehend why my efforts couldn't develop into my high expectations.

One day she invited me over to her place for a get-together. She invited Sally and some of her other friends too, but they never showed up. It was just me and her. She told me she had a fight with her friends and they basically banished her from their circle. Over and over, she kept saying how unfair it was for them to do that. Her reputation was ruined. That's when she walked towards me with a foreign look in her eyes. Her eyelids wet with emotion. I could sense a wanting from her. She said that I'm the only one that was there for her. When she needed someone, I was her only friend. I told her she was my only friend, too.

I figured out what happened to her all her friends years later -- but I'll explain that in a little bit.

She was vulnerable in my hands; pure sentiment was finally revealed through her voice. I wanted to support her in any way possible. However, the only way she knew how to truly connect with someone was with sex. I've never had sex at that time and truthfully, it freaked the fuck out of me. The sight of a real life human vagina would confuse the vomit out of me. However, I didn't tell her I was a virgin and frankly it didn't matter.

Every progression was led by her. She kissed me first and held my chubby cheeks with her hands. Imaginary romantic music was playing in my ears as her tears dropped faster and I wiped them off her pretty face. I didn't fully understand why she was so distraught -- but I knew what was happening next.

"Wait, wait. Let me guess. You fucked her?" Dylan asked.

I sighed. "I was going to say something cheesy, like we 'made love'."

"That's so cute of you."

"Shut up. Don't ever say that word... ever."

I was so self-conscious about myself. I was an obese little boy, after all. When I took off my shirt for the first time in front of her, I was anticipating a murderous scream or a flurry of pepper spray. But it wasn't like that at all. She loved me for who I was, even if I looked like a blob. My droopy man tits and gentle, mushy skin didn't bother her. That's when I decided to let her devour me.

I drank in her nude figure. With every curve of her flaring hips and the jiggle of her perky B cup breasts. Decent, light-brown nipples centered each of her pert tits. I ran my fingers over that same delicate skin I would gaze at school. It was like sunshine to my touch. We lay back together and were engulfed by each other's flames.

We began dating for the rest of the school year. We did everything together. My handful of friends started to separate from me. Her former friends did the same. It was just us two enjoying life like everyone was against us.

She told me she was going to move to the Los Angeles area after high school. I asked her why, and she said she hated the Valley. She wanted to start a new life and she burnt too many bridges with everyone here locally. Her attitude was fiery and rigid, so I understood why it was hard for people to befriend her.

I would take the Amtrak train down to her place every other week or so. Long distance relationships were tough, man. She found a nice apartment and with a spunky, hipster girl roommate. The roommate didn't mind me crashing the place from time to time; however it did get awkward when Amanda and I would have sex. And boy, did we have sex. We fucked like convicts every time I would come to visit.

As time passed, she would still often call. Most of her calls would be about how shitty her day was. The odd thing was that she would post things on social media, including group pictures and parties she would attend. In some of these pictures, she would be hugging multiple guys -- sometimes all at once. I couldn't help but to feel like an angry pussy. Jealousy fucking sucks. She was everything to me. I had no one to trust but her. So why would she do this to me?

And of course, I called her -- many times. Her phone was bombarded with desperate text messages and sobbing voicemails. I wanted answers for my long-distance accusations. She told me to not worry so much, but it wouldn't have mattered what she said. I pictured her being fucked properly by these much better looking guys. Stupid fucks with their stupid hair and stupid tattoos. They probably had better jobs and fancier cars and bigger dicks and smelled nicer too. These thoughts were stuck on me like a hang nail: the pain is irritating and urges the person to rip it from one's finger. But me personally, I liked that feeling of pain. That annoying hang nail is almost -- addicting in a way.

She was moving on with her life and at a much quicker rate than I was. After numerous rejections, she finally nabbed a job at Best Buy. She would brag about her co-workers because they were so nice and funny. She always had numerous male friends. There was this one guy from New York she would nickname 'GQ' (because he looked like a GQ model, of course). This fucker would invite her to his parties and she would hang out with him and his circle of douchey friends. And of course, jealousy overtook me yet again.

As a tornado of insecurity swirled inside me, she figured it was time to admit her cheating on me -- twice. Once with her ex-boyfriend right after she dropped me off at the AmTrak station. She said he was close to the station and it would get late, so she'd spend the night at his place. Later I found out whenever she needed some friendly fucking, he was the man to call. The other, of course, was that GQ faggot. My nemesis. These were just the two men she admitted to... Lord knows how many other guys she's opened her treasonous pussy to various empty cocks.




Self-Awareness Ch. 03



And still -- like the pussyboy I am and after all the heartbreak she put me through -- I crawled back to her.

"Why?" Dylan asked. "Why did you go back to her after all that bullshit?"

"Because... I had no one else."

I caught up with Sally at a party one night. She asked if I was still with Amanda. I lied through my confused heart and told her it was doing well. Her face had a vision of disappointment. That's when she dropped the bomb on me.

Apparently, during high school, she was slutting around campus. One example of this was when she fucked the boyfriend of one of her best friends. On another occasion, she fucked a friend's boyfriend -- AND her brother! (I can't make this shit up, folks). When rumors started to echo in the hallways, she hid from the popular crowd. That's why she clung onto me. I suppose I was someone safe; someone that was far away from the torches and pitchforks. She wanted to flee the valley since her reputation as a wrecking whore was beginning. Unfortunately, she took that reputation to the Los Angeles area and built a successful whoring empire.

My last face to face visit came shortly after. I confronted everything to her, just in case what Sally told me was gossip or hearsay. Amanda remained silent at first, but confessed to everything. Oddly enough, she didn't cry or felt embarrassed at all. She said I missed out on an opportunity any man would've wanted. She was willing to bed with me anytime I was down here. Little did I know, she just wanted us to be fuck buddies. My problem was I wanted something more out of this.

She would laugh and laugh and laugh. It would still hurt me every time I thought of her laugh. Her hands cradled my face as she told me how cute I was -- like she was pinching a toddler's cheeks. The way that word split open my rib cage could not be described with words... CUTE! Fucking uugghh!!

She sensed blind loyalty in me. It was obvious in the fact I followed her for so long, for all this time -- in her room, in her apartment, in a city I don't belong in. Including the way I've stuck around after all the bullshit she smeared my face into, there's no reason why she wouldn't think I was a pussy-whipped lemming. As she sat on her bed, she told me what she was aiming for in life. She told me she wanted to be free, without any judgment from others. She never really liked the idea of right or wrong decisions.

I told her I still loved her, no matter what she's done in the past. No matter whom she slept with or who she betrayed. Again, she said I had the wrong way of thinking. Judging whatever she's done in the past shouldn't matter and saying it out loud meant that I did, in fact, care about her past. She told me to appreciate what I had in this moment. To grasp the fact she was there with me when I needed her.

I asked her if our relationship was a wrong decision. She smirked and whispered 'no'.

I asked her if she still loved me. She looked away and didn't answer.

I asked if she ever loved me. She just shook her head 'no' while smiling.

And that's what defeated me.

That was my last image of her -- a vision of Amanda shaking her head while she smiled.

SCENE THREE: Forget It

"Soooooo," Dylan dragged the word out until it couldn't bend anymore. "...you broke up with her."

"Yep," I exhaled. After such a lengthy diatribe I hungered for a tasty cigarette.

"No, you don't understand. You. Broke up. With her. And Jesus Christ, you were just a young, immature kid. Who hasn't had heartbreak like that?"

"Yeah I know. It's not the most heartbreaking story -- but as I said before, don't compare my breakup to other people's breakups. It affected me and I've dealt with it."

"Get over it!" he yelled.

"Did you not just hear what I said?"

"Oh I heard what you said. I can hear it in your voice. And you ain't over it."

"But, I just said I dealt with it. I figured it out."

"No, you haven't. A picture of her face still frightens you. You've stopped looking for a relationship because of her. She's controlling your dumb mind even as we speak."

"I don't think that's true at all. I lost a bunch of weight after we broke up. I look and feel better than before."

"I'm talking about how you approach people -- especially women. You think being a macho, single guy is how you should live now. But you're just compensating from how much of a lovey-dovey dumbshit you were. But sooner or later you'll need that tender passion of a woman. You'll need a girlfriend. Then, you'll need a wife. And then, you'll need kids. You can't deny it; it's deep in your bones. It's how you were brought up and it's still with you today. You're denying yourself to feel because you're scared a relationship will end up like Amanda. Guess what... every girl isn't Amanda."

Maybe Dylan is right. I've been escaping something after my breakup with Amanda. I felt like she was pulling me into doing things I normally wouldn't do. And sure, sometimes it fucking stunk when I was suckered into the hands of a girl and received nothing in return for my efforts. However, I also enjoyed it. I liked doing over the top things to impress women. It made me feel something -- perhaps its love, or maybe just stupidity. But really, how bad could a new relationship be? I mean, if most of the men I know are aiming to wed a woman for the rest of their life, it can't be that bad... right?

"I'm not gonna lie. Of course Amanda affected me to some degree," I grumbled. "But, why are you pressuring me to be in a relationship?"

"To see you happy, you dumb motherfucker. Why do you think me and Megan wanted to hook you up with Annalisa?"

"That's fucking nice of you," I jested. I've finally acknowledged that Dylan means well, no matter how confrontational he may be at times. "You guys coulda given me a better choice than her, though."

"Is it just because she's fat?" he asked, holding his laughter deep in his chest. 

"No. I mean, she's okay I guess. I just think she's... yucky. But she seems like a nice girl or whatever. But, I do like curvy girls. Some 'junk in the trunk' or whatever the kids are saying. And fatties with that 'pretty girl, stuck up attitude'? There's no reason for me to get involved with that bullshit."

"No one says 'junk in the trunk' anymore," he returned with seriousness.

"Okay then."

"So you won't go out with her?"

"Annalisa? Sorry to say, but fuck no."

He laughed at my response. "Then find a regular girl you won't mind spending some time with. Someone you won't end up slitting your throat at the end of the day."

"Like Megan?" I teased. He didn't reply back. "Honestly... I-I don't know. I guess I have nothing to lose." I looked back at my computer screen.

The familiar empty word document was staring back at me. I think it's time to write some life experiences. Now that I think about it, there's a reason a majority of music and art is about love and heartbreak. If anything, going out with a girl -- ultimately ending up in blubbing tears from a disastrous breakup -- would earn me some writing material.

Dylan glanced back at his phone, I assumed to check if he had any new texts from Megan. A smirk crawled on his face as he shoved the phone back in his pocket.

"Well then, I guess you know what you have to do," he chuckled. "Get out there and fall in love."

"Ugghh," I groaned.

"Oh, it'll be great. In case you forgot how to behave on dates, remember the three C's: be charming, confident, and cute."

No. No. No. "No. I told you, don't ever say that word," I grunted at him.

"Get over it, wuss. The sooner you get over that word, the sooner you'll get over Amanda."

I can't argue with that logic.

"Fuck you," I replied.

"I love you too, buddy," Dylan responded.

I looked at my computer monitor once more. That same vacant word document was becoming my new screen saver -- no more.

SCENE FOUR: Window Shopping

The street lamps flickered on while I was on the road. I'm not exactly sure where I was going; I needed to feel like I was going somewhere. Okay, fine. I knew exactly where I was going.

My truck parked close to the store as I looked around the parking lot. The area was empty compared to that fateful afternoon. The smell of her perfume -- along with the liquid memories of her expert oral skills -- came back to me in such a rush. I wasn't even sure if she was working tonight. There's only one way to find out.

Wait, who am I fooling? I have no reason to go in the grocery store other than asking her out. I don't even care if she rejects me. But will she reject me? I mean, she forced her mouth onto my willing cock. Of course she'd want to go out with me, right? Goddammit, I need to feel some type of emotion. I've alienated emotion for too long.

"That'll be..." she paused, for maybe a good 10 seconds. I don't think she expected to see my face again. As her eyes climbed to meet mine, so did her rosy-pink smile. It was obvious as the weather. "That'll be $7.59."

I handed her a folded $10 bill. "How is your day?" I asked.

"It's been freakin' slow. I mean, look around!" she responded as she looked at my purchased goods. "Just two bags of Doritos, hm? I would have recommended something healthier. Like, maybe some fruit? Maybe some apples? Or... bananas?" She winked towards me and her smile grew wider. That's a reference to Chapter 2, pals.

"I like that song," I replied. I opened my hand to receive my change and noticed her red and pink fingernails that matched her lipstick. Inadvertently, I brushed her nails with my thumb. She didn't mind.

"What song?"

"That 'apples and bananas' song. I don't know what the actual song is called."

"I don't think I know it. Sing it for me," she requested while her smirk remained. I peeked around to make sure I wasn't going to embarrass myself. "Sing it, pleeeeease?"

"Yeah, I don't want to," I countered.

"Aww, you suck," she joked. But it's not me that sucks. She's the one that sucks. As in, she sucked my dick that one time. HAHA puns are hilarious. Sigh...

"Sorry to disappoint you," I apologized.

"Trust me, there's no freakin' way you can disappoint me," she said as her eyes traced my body up and down. I should make a move right about now. She's been talkative and flirty. C'mon Ryan, just ask her out. Now's the time and the time is now.

"Hey," I whimpered, my voice slightly breaking. "I'm just wondering if you ever wanna hang out. Like, maybe this weekend. Or some-"

"I get off at 9 o'clock," she interrupted. "Plus, I need a ride since my uncle is using my car. It's a long story."

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "So, pick me up... in like an hour or so. Is that alright with you?"

I smiled back at her. "That's perfect for me." It was 7:45 pm. Killing time wasn't a problem; shit, killing time was my specialty. If time were preschoolers, I'm Adam Lanza. If time was an African American young male looking awfully suspicious, I would be the police department. Allegedly.

I drove back to the grocery store after aimlessly strolling around a nearby mall. It was 8:50 pm. The night air wasn't as chilly as the forecast predicted, so I stood next to my truck with a cigarette in hand. That's when she popped out of the automatic doors.

She was dressed casually -- without the usual cashier getup. Her long-sleeved grey shirt was unbuttoned and the fabric swayed along with her movement. Underneath was a tight red tank top, accentuating her marginally paunchy belly and her generous C cup tits wrapped snuggly in her top. Finally being able to see her out of the baggy work attire, I revered her healthy, full figure. Those broad legs encased in her snug light-grey jeans walked my way, until she eventually leaned on my truck right next to me. Her legs crossed each other in a bouncy stance as she fixed her flopping brownish-blonde ponytail. 

"Hi," she sung through the side of her mouth. "How sweet of you to wait for me."

"I wasn't waiting long," I said, while I lifted a cigarette towards my face. Her eyes followed my cigarette. "You want one?" I asked, offering her a smoke.

She grabbed one from the pack and slipped it between her lips. "Thanks," the cashier chick mumbled while the cigarette swiveled in her mouth. I gave her my 'lucky lighter' and watched the graceful spark light her stick. A puff of smoke escaped her.

"You know, it's weird. I feel like I should know your name by now," I stated.

She peeked my way with a raised eyebrow. "I don't know. I like the mystery," she expressed with another round of smoke. "I talked about you with my friends, by the way. I referred to you as the 'Banana Boy'."

"Damn, really? You couldn't come up with a better name, huh?"

She laughed. "I personally think..." Her eyes drooped down to my groin. "...the name fits."

If I ever doubted I was going to get laid tonight, she verified that outcome with her flirty dialogue. Good thing I took a shower after work. I wouldn't want to showcase a stinky cock to her.

After drooling over the bottom half of my body, she snapped her eyes upwards. "What nickname would you call me?" the Grocery Store Girl asked in a sticky voice.

"Hmmm... Well, I don't know. I guess you were always the Grocery Store Girl in my head. Or maybe, the Cashier Chick."

"That's super unsexy," the Cashier Chick frowned.

"I'm not as creative as you, I guess."

"That was fun a few days ago, huh?" she asked.

"The whole blowjob thing, you mean?"

"Yes, that!" she laughed, running her fingers across my shoulder. "Did you think about it?"

"Honestly, I thought about it every day. Though, for some reason it feels like months have passed since it that happened."

She broke up my confusion, "No, I meant the whole selfish / helpful debacle."

I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. "I came to the conclusion it didn't really matter who wanted to help or who was selfish. I'm just glad that it happened."

She smiled back. "Me too."

A breeze of silence came in between us as we finished up our smokes.

"I'm Ryan," I announced with a hand steering towards her.

"Hmm... I like Banana Boy better." She shook my hand in a gentle manner. "I'm Amanda," she revealed.

Sigh... of course her name would be Amanda. There had to be a reason why I was so attracted to this beam of lust. The promiscuous energy she exudes and the care-free attitude -- it all reminded me of my ex. Of-fucking-course her name would be Amanda. I mean, it is a commonly used name after all. I can't condemn her parents for naming their daughter the same name my evil ex had. It's as if a higher power named the grocery store chick Amanda just to teach me a lesson...

As my mind bombarded itself with odd thoughts of nonsense, she broke my internal conversation with a simple hand on my chin. "You ready to head out?" she asked.

SCENE FIVE: Back From The Dead

"What do you mean Netflix and Chill?" I asked.

"Aww," she giggled. Closing the bedroom door behind her, she swiftly unrobed her grey long-sleeve and flipped it behind her shoulder. Again, that red tank top clearly showed off her plentiful curves. Her hidden melons jam-packed behind that red top... I just wanted to pounce her right there.

"Umm..." I hesitated awkwardly. "I don't mind an entertaining movie or whatever, but I thought we were going to touch each other's naughty parts."

She laughed. A lustful stare was locked down onto me. She blinked gradually slower and bit her plump bottom lip out of reflex. This kitty wanted me bad. I could smell it on her. After she teasingly hopped onto her bed, she turned on her Xbox. She landed on her belly, showing off the wideness of her ass smashed inside those grey jeans. Mashing a few buttons on her Xbox controller, she eventually found the Netflix icon and opened the app.

The fuck? We're actually going to watch Netflix. Or at least spend 20 minutes scrolling through B-movie horror films, undecided on what to watch. AND ONCE YOU FINALLY FIND SOMETHING, THE OTHER PERSON ALWAYS SAYS 'THIS MOVIE IS BORING'. Like, bitch -- do you wanna watch a movie or do you wanna stare at me browse through a bunch of movie titles the entire night you picky cunt? See, this is why I HATE relationships. 

I seriously thought we were going to fuck. Is she thinking we're just chilling out and Netflix'ing like a couple of lovebirds? Hugging and crying and falling asleep into each other's arms. I can't do this pussy shit, man.

"Let's watch The Walking Dead!" she exclaimed.

"Umm, sure." I sat down next to her, my leg inches away from her face. "I've never watched it before and I've heard that--"

"Wait, you've never seen The Walking Dead?" she interrupted me.

"Nah, I don't really care about that zombie stuff. I mean, I'm guessing like, people come back from the dead."

She laughed. "It's much more than that, though."

I harrumphed. "And let's say some guy's wife was dead, right? But then she's reborn as a zombie and he struggles to shoot her because of their loving past. Even though she was once familiar to him, she looks different and is gonna eat him and shit. So now there's all this stuff about the human condition and relationships and letting go of the past..."

"But it's so good!"

I sighed. "Well, it probably is..." I was about to rant about how dumb post-apocalyptic fiction was, but I decided my retarded opinions are irrelevant to this conversation. She chose to play the first episode. Looks like I'm actually going to watch this dumb show from the beginning.

"My favorite is Daryl," she crooned in a sultry voice.

"Who's he?" I asked. I noticed her head lying of my leg and her body positioned accordingly. It's like she's using my thigh as a snuggly pillow, with her face pointing towards mine. This is getting too mushy for me.

"He's all hot and muscle-y. And he's got long hair that's always wet for some reason. And he's quiet and holds his feelings to himself. And he has a freakin' crossbow!" She smiled with her eyes closed, as if manifesting him through her inner thoughts.

"I could probably kick his ass," I jested.

"What? No way. He's such a badass AND he rides a motorcycle."

"Fuck that, now I know I can kick his ass. Plus he's a dick for riding a motorcycle."

She smiled. "Aww, you're getting jealous!" Her hand reached out for mine and lifted my palm from the bed. Raising it eye-level to her, she fiddled around with my fingers and knuckles -- gently grazing my skin and tracing along my palm. "If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you take care of me?"

"Of course," I responded while listening to the theme song for the show. "I'd like, punch a bunch of zombies and carry you out of a burning building or something."

"No, I meant..." she grinned. Guiding my hand, she scooped my fingers underneath her top. Out of instinct, I grabbed a lavish amount of her left breast through her bra. 

"...I mean, take care of me. Like this," she purred. Her other hand drifted lower to her jeans, rubbing her fingers against her pussy and the barrier of tight denim.

Letting out a moan, she climbed on my lap and pushed me onto her bed. "I can't wait to have you inside of me," she hummed.

Now that's what I'm talkin' about! I audibly moaned as her hands traveled my body. Fingers hooked under my shirt as she lifted it over my head and licked up on my chest. She followed the path to my lips and we kissed with strength. Our tongues entangled with the wetness of our mouths. I held onto her plump ass with two durable grapples, forcefully grinding her crotch across my ever-growing bulge. "Oh yeah, I can't freakin' wait," she mouthed.

Rolling her over, I kneelt between her open legs and began to unbuckle my clunky belt. She disrobed as well, starting with her red tank top and matching bra, lifting it over her body. Revealing her supple belly and the perkiest C cup breasts I've ever seen, she tried to hide her naked form with her hands. Disrupting my eagerness to undress, I dug under her fingers so I can feel the softness of her tits again. She responded by moaning louder and glancing her fingernails over my bare chest.




Self-Awareness Ch. 03



"I've wanted this," I declared as I gently stroked on her nipples. "I've wanted to fuck you ever since that day. You've been the only thing I've been wanting, the only thing I want to finish."

"Are you feeling selfish?" she grimaced while her head swung to the side. Her hands reached down to her jeans, unbuttoning it as fast as she could. I helped her out by tugging them off her legs, my fingers sinking in the soft divide of skin and fabric. Exposing a deep red thong, she pulled it to the side and slid two fingers up and down her glistening pussy lips. Like a detective, she rubbed the slick-layered fingers with her thumb to inspect how wet she truly was.

"I am so selfish right now," I breathed from my mouth, salivating inches away from her moistening vagina. The aroma of her juices and sweat drove me over the edge.

"Selfish, huh?" She sat up a little, propping her elbows on the bed. "Selfish... like when you wanted me to deep-throat that freakin' fat cock of yours?"

"I wasn't selfish then, figured I was being helpful. You were the one that wanted to suck me," I responded.

"Don't tell me you didn't want me to..."

"Well of course I wanted you to suck me off," I said with confusion, and with a face to match. "Okay, now this is getting more confusing than it has to be."

She wrapped her hand behind my head and pulled me closer to her pussy, daring me to taste the glory of her honey.

"Well Ryan, now's the time to be selfish," she said under her breath as she pulled my head hard, smashing my lips onto her vaginal ones.

Splash! In an instant, my face belly-flopped into a pool of pussy nectar. And I went to work, like a lunatic about to gun up the workplace. My tongue traced around the entrance of her vagina, which made her squirm. She wanted me to do more than teasing. I retaliated by going straight to her clit, French-kissing the hood and using my tongue to find the little nub. She gasped out loud once my tongue made contact to her most sensitive spot. I sucked on it for a few seconds before I stroked my tongue up and down, dribbling it like a basketball. As the tone of her moans twisted from hums to wails, I increased the speed -- ignoring the dripping spittle drooling down my jaw.

"Uhhh yeah... Jus-Just like that. I'm gonna freakin' cum already!" she announced to my surprise. I doubt I was that good at cunnillingus. Her hand let go of my head and landed back down on the bed. With a solid thump, she collapsed fully onto the mattress and slithered around with pleasure. I made sure to keep up with the tongue movements. I wanted her to orgasm. I was being selfish.

*BANG!!* I slowed down once I heard a gunshot behind me. What the fuck!? They killed a tiny zombie girl. Stupid TV show.

"Don't stop! I--" She interrupted herself with another loud moan. I picked up the pace again and she tore out another audible cry.

I looked up and saw her squeezing her hard nipples. Her face was plastered in carnality. I continued to lap my tongue up and down as fast as I could until she reached her orgasm. Out of her control, her legs reacted to the climax with tiny shivers -- her thighs jiggled from the response. She remained speechless until multiple vulgar grunts caught rhythm of her orgasm. She cautiously backed away, out of breath, revealing a huge wet spot imprinted her bed. A blend of my saliva and her fluids darkened the bedsheet.

"God damn, you're freakin' good!" she panted. With eagerness, she seized my loosened belt, unzipped my pants, and pulled them downwards. My giant erection stretched out my boxers down my right thigh, waiting for her to play with it.

"I want this," she smiled at my bulge. With one quick swipe she uncovered my lonely cock, springing into a dive board -- anticipating the inevitable intercourse. "Better than I remembered."

Laying herself softly on the bed, she freed her ponytail, unraveling her shoulder-length brownish blonde hair. She eased her open legs, feet planted to the mattress and knees bending upwards. Her fingers leisurely circled her clit.

"You ready?" I asked, positioning over her aching body with my cock looming her entrance.

She didn't respond. Taking a grip of my wide shaft, she landed my cock onto her wet pussy. My hulking cockhead broke free into her damp vagina -- her outer folds sinking inwards caused by my massive intruder.

"Yes!" she answered as she tugged on my pulsating pillar, wanting me to plunge even deeper. I indulged her body language and dived in -- inch by inch -- until she yelped from the incredibly snug friction. Her walls were drenched, trying it's best to lubricate my width into motion.

"Oh my... FFFUCK!" she yelped while her eyes rolled back. Interesting enough, that was the first time I've ever heard her say the word 'fuck' instead of 'freakin'. I kept pushing and pulling gradually onto her clenching walls, waiting for her pussy to finally accept my length. Her knees now knocking onto the side of my torso, as if to tell me she wanted more.

"Fuck me!" she ordered. Her hands found the back of my neck as I propelled my hips forward, ripping through her clamping walls. I went deeper than she anticipated and she responded with a welcoming scream. Her tiny hands fell from the grasp of my neck, quickly rubbing her throbbing clitoris. "USE ME!" she directed with lust.

"Now you're the greedy one, hmm?" I whispered into her ear. She hissed through her teeth and cooed with release. As her needy fingers constantly swiped at her clitoris, the soft moans released from her voice indicated me she was quickly close to another orgasm. "Tell me how selfish you are?"

"I want you," she groaned while looking at the intercourse happening just below her. I peeked down along with her, noticing that she hasn't took much but half of my length. "I want all of you," she continued.

"All of what?"

"Your big cock," she whimpered while looking away. Hooking her legs over my shoulders, I lifted her jiggling ass upwards -- ready to pounce more distance into her selfish, greedy vagina. As I kept elevating my stance, she started to roll upwards onto the bed. Only her upper back and her head supported her body on the mattress. Because of the position; she freed herself from diddling her clitoris and planted her palms upwards onto the headboard -- as if to prepare herself for the colossal impact of my maximum thrusting. "Your huge, thick, long cock. I want all of it. I FUCKIN' NEED IT! PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME. ALL OF IT!"

I brushed the cluttered strands of brown hair across her face and readied my assault into her hindering orgasm. I wanted her to see the work I'm about to put on that pussy. Now that my hands were embedded onto the mattress next to her shoulders, it gave me an easy angle to thrust forward. Plowing a single lunge, a generous amount of my enormous manhood entered her unexplored areas -- hitting her cervix with an exclamation point. The impact surprised her, as evident by the shaking bounce of her moderate-sized breasts, the lust-filled scream, and the slam of the headboard colliding into her bedroom wall.

"OH FFFUCK!" she cried, shutting her eyes while her mouth gaped open. With each powerful thrust I ventured deeper into her canal and she screamed louder with response. My hammering cockhead knocking on her cervix's door every time I drove inside. Her eyes remained closed until my pelvis eventually made solid contact with hers. She looked crumpled up in this position, her feet almost touched the wall it seemed. And like the horny pirate she was, she reached down to her lower abdomen as if to measure where my sunken treasure of a cock was buried.

"That's sooo FUCKING DEEEEP!" she moaned, now wide-eyed with enthusiasm on her face. Hunger took over her body as her constricted vaginal walls pulsated around my massive dick. I remained motionless, uncovering every corner and hidden room in her vagina.

"That's all of it," I announced with a cheeky smile. In a split second she locked eyes with me, mouth still gaping open but nonetheless making no sounds. Her fingers blurred across the overlapping hood of her clit, scrubbing the wet button like she was cleaning dirty bathroom tiles. In a matter of seconds, her entire body shivered along with her pussy, vibrating herself into euphoria.

"I-I think I just came," she innocently whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

I snapped back into action, unloading shotgun-like thrusts into her -- knocking the oxygen out of her lungs with each balls-deep slam. Moans promptly shifted into shrieks as I kept up an athletic pace, revving my turgid piston like it was the final lap towards the checkered flag. Fucking with such an aggressive and careless behavior, I inadvertently pulled out my entire length in the middle of the act -- my cock recoiling from my stomach and back onto her pelvis. There was a sense of loss on her face.

"NO!" she yelped from the absence of my cock. "Put it back!"

"Turn around!" I flipped her around and watched as the fleshy cheeks of her wide backside bounced with each movement. She flopped onto her knees, setting her chest onto the mattress and plunked her head onto a pillow -- pushing out that fat swaying ass towards me.

God damn! That god damn ass was fuckin' golden. I froze there measuring the depth of her lower body by caressing every round curve. It didn't cartoonishly bulge out like an actual bubble butt, but the width of her hips and the thickness of her thighs couldn't be overlooked. With both hands, I each grabbed a soft chunk of her pale ass flesh and positioned my member back into her pussy.

"Mmmm... YESSS!" She responded to my cock like I knew she would. Once the swollen head of my manhood re-entered her snatch, she curved her back even more downwards -- relaxing her upper body against the bed and raising that fat ass even higher.

Four rolling thrusts into her and she went back to the dick-drunk cashier girl I remembered.

"OH FFFFUCK! It's so deep at this angle!" Her arms stretched out into a full wingspan, clutching onto the rippling bedsheet like she's hanging on a cliff for dear life. After a few more slamming thrusts I was finally back to where I was, balls-deep and ready to attack. I grabbed ahold of her bouncing cheeks and 'crucified' her pussy -- which seemed to be the right term considering how she looked grabbing onto the bedsheets.

"OOOHH--MMYYYY--FUCK--ING--GGGAAWWWDD!!" She screamed each syllable on-beat to my thundering fucks. Each punching thrust smacked my pelvis onto the soft cushion of her jiggling thick ass, her cheeks waving wildly like a patriotic country flag. The bed support was swaying along with our sex, and the headboard was repetitively slamming onto the wall. We both didn't care about the ruckus we were making, or if anyone from the outside world heard our commotion.

"Keep going again, AGAIN!" she ordered me while slapping my right thigh. She had already orgasmed once through the burst of my doggystyle flurry, but I slowed down a bit to catch my breath. I also felt the urge to cum if I continued to go at that rate. But she wanted me to keep up that pace. She was close to another one already. Damn this bitch is multi-orgasmic as fuck.

With both my hands, I pinned her back shoulders down into the mattress. Raising my own hips, I felt my cock could be driven even deeper from this position. Holding onto her shoulders, I slammed a single cervical thrust that made her yelp. It was the deepest she's ever had a cock driven into her.

"OWHF MY GOERRN!!" she muffled into the pillow. To make for more room on the bed, she shoved the unneeded pillows off her mattress. One pillow hit a nearby lamp, while the other bounced off the wall. She was the definite definition of a freak, a prime example used in the urban dictionary. Holy shit, I'm ready to empty my balls now...

"I'm gonna cum!" I whispered into her ear. She moaned in response and released her clutch from the bedsheets. Thumping her hands straight onto the headboard, she looked back and drove her big butt right into me -- matching my own kinetic energy with hers.

"No," she hissed. "I'm gonna make you cum. You got that? I AM!"

"Okay..."

"Who am I again?!" she questioned me.

"Umm, uh what?"

She slapped my thigh harder. "Say my FUCKING NAME, BANANA BOY!"

"Am-Amanda..."

"Louder! Oh my fffucking GOD... SAY IT LOUDER!!"

"AMANDA! Fu-Fucking... FUCK YOU AMANDA!!"

Using the headboard in front of her, she pushed hard back into me, meeting halfway into my own thrust. The impact was too hard for me to fathom and accelerated my own pleasure, just from this amazing scene alone. The bed was swinging off the floor, almost ready to collapse and have us fucking on top of wreckage and debris. After the intense collisions from my lower abdomen onto her backside, we both couldn't take it anymore.

"Where do you want it!?" I shakily asked, as I was so close to exploding inside her.

She slapped her own jiggling ass with a loud *SMACK!* that surprised me for a second. "RRRRIGHT HERE!" she ordered me, directing my landing spot to be on her luscious butt.

I pulled out my heavy shaft and started stroking my impending cumshot. She relaxed one hand underneath her body and onto her clit, loudly slapping it to jumpstart her own climax.

"I'M CUMMING SOOO HARD!" she screamed as she continued to slap and massage her clitoris. I couldn't hold back from seeing such a horned up little slut reaching orgasm in front of me. I stroked faster and squeezed out a jet of semen landing on the back of her head, drooling down her brownish blonde hair. Another stream hit the curve of her back, rolling downwards and pooling into the valleys of her shoulder blades. The last few ejaculations promptly landed onto the mountains of ass below my cumming cock.

After cleaning herself off, we both rested and faced the ceiling. I watched as the dinky lights in her room vibrated slightly from the ceiling fan twirling just above it. The slight breeze was enough to cool me off from the intense session of fucking.

"Holy shit, that was great!" I laughed while catching my breath. Her chest rose quickly from the heavy breathing and beamed an excited look on her sweaty face.

"Can I get your number?" she asked with her phone magically appearing in her hand. I told her my number and she saved it to her contacts. Then, oddly enough, she slid her phone down to her vagina and took a selfie of her wet, beaten up, swollen pussy. "I just sent you a picture," she giggled.

"Um, yeah. I can see that," I said in sudden astonishment while hearing a faint notification coming from my phone in the distance.

"So... 'Fuck me', huh?" she asked as she turned to her side and rubbed my sweaty chest. I looked to her not knowing what she meant. "That's what you said. You said 'Fuck You Amanda'. Was I being mean to you? I admit, I do get kinda aggressive when I'm about to cum," she laughed.

"Oh," I frowned. "No, it's not that. I guess I got carried away in the moment. But you were fucking great, you kidding me?!"

"And you were amazing too," she reacted, along with dreamy eyes.

"No, you were more amazinger."

"Yeah, I know," she confidently pouted as she slowly stroked on my resting cock. "Damn, you're getting freakin' hard already?"

"I can't help it when I'm next to you," I said as I kissed her lips. My hands fondled her perky tits and embraced more of her naked form. "I'm feeling... hungry," I whispered with a smile.

"If you're hungry you could open those bags of chips you bought..."

"Let's watch the next episode. I'm starting to like The Walking Dead," I smirked. Lifting myself off the mattress, I positioned myself between her legs and kissed gently on her soft inner thighs. She snuck out calming moans as I continued down the path to her knocked out pussy.

"You treat me too good..." she trailed off as I continued to kiss her thighs. "You know, I like you Ryan. But this isn't like, a thing. You know what I mean?"

"Like a what?" I asked, raising my head above her pelvis.

"You know, like a date? Or a boyfriend/girlfriend thing?"

"Oh, okay..."

"I mean, I would love to have sex with you again. And I hope you would wanna have sex with me too. But I'm not sure if I'm ready to make this into a 'dating' thing. This was purely physical, right? And so, you know, you don't have to do this... kissing me and all that."

Yeah, I shoulda known. Her name is Amanda AND she doesn't want to be in a relationship. Where have I heard that before? But to be honest, I completely forgot about that whole situation. I forgot about trying to emotionally bond with her and maybe start a loving connection. The only thing on my mind in the last hour was... 'SEX SEX SEX SEX FUCKING SEX'.

"You don't like kissing?" I asked.

"Uhhmm, I don't know. I guess I'm okay with it if you want to..."

"But I want to," I responded, resting my chin and sniffing her pubic hair.

"It's just, you don't have to treat me... like this..." she trailed off, looking at me inching to her pussy.

"But I want to." I plunged forward, swiping a long tongue stroke upwards and finishing it off with a flick on her clit. She sighed while she closed her eyes.

"You can't..." she moaned. "I... I just came like eight times."

"Damn, eight times huh?" I asked with glee. I felt like flexing my bicep in front of her.

"I said 'like' eight times. Don't be so proud of yourself, Banana Boy," she smiled.

I continued to munch on her box, just teasing around her pussy lips as her small patch of pubes tickled my nostrils. I finally rose up for air and gazed into her eyes.

"I like to eat, eat, eat. Eeples and bah-nee-nees."

She had an awkward, flabbergasted look on her face. "What the freak?"

"I like to oat, oat, oat. Opals and bah-no-noes."

She laughed hard. "Oh, so that's the song! I remember that song when I was a kid!"

I went back down and shifted closer to her pussy. "Is it weird that I'm singing a nursery rhyme right in front of your naked vagina?" I asked.

Amanda giggled again, with one hand around my head -- pushing my face onto her pussy. "Nah, not weird at all. I actually think it's kinda cute."