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Love is for Suckers

By: StangStar06



Thanks to all of the people who read either version of last week's story. The consensus seems to be that the longer more complete version was better. This week we're doing something a bit more normal. As usual thanks to the tirless Mikothebaby for editing it, even though she's never heard the song. I don't think very many people have. Enjoy SS06. 

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My gut is so big that I can't even see my feet, but I don't care. I'm flat on my back anyway. The people all around me are smiling at me and I'm in so God damned much pain that I wish they'd knock me out. Right now, I'm headed for surgery and I'm really worried about the guy who did this to me. Before they pulled me away from the bastard, he was on the floor and he wasn't moving at all. After the surgery, I'll be fine. I don't know about him. There will be no way for him to live this down. All of that macho man blather will go out the window when people hear that he was the one passed out on the floor and I was at least awake when he went down.

I'll bet right now you have the wrong idea in your head, don't you. It just goes to show how if you word something the wrong way, it gives people completely different ideas about what is actually going on.

Let me start at the beginning so I can make my story clearer.

My name is Mona Matthews. It used to be Mona Fullerton but I got married. If you had seen me three years ago, you'd never have imagined that I'd ever get married.

Three years ago, I was twenty two years old. I was in my second and final year of college. I know you're thinking that at twenty two I should have been in my fourth year or at least my third. Let me explain some things to you. Growing up, I wasn't exactly a part of one of those perfect nuclear families.

My family, the Fullertons, consisted of my mother, my father, my brother, Tommy and myself. Mom ran off with a slick salesman with a smooth line of shit, before I was five years old. The way I hear it, he told her she was beautiful and she deserved more than my dad could give her. He was supposed to be going places and he did. He took her to New York. He took her to Los Angeles and finally he took her to the bone orchard.

It turned out he made even less money than my dad did, but unlike my dad he also cheated on her. He was one of those guys for whom one woman was never going to be enough. When he saw my mom, he had to have her. Every guy who saw my mom wanted her. Unfortunately, they only wanted her temporarily. My mom's tits entered the room at least two seconds before the rest of her did.

Most guys saw them and were rendered temporarily insane. The salesman was no different. My mom really thought that she could have any guy she wanted. Her opinion of herself wasn't based on reality. She wasn't really that pretty. I should know, I look just like her. She was a short, chunky woman with big tits and delusions of grandeur. And so am I, except for the delusions of grandeur.

Anyway, once she found out that the guy was giving her a bunch of shit it was too late. She was stuck in another state and she had too much pride to be able to call my daddy to come and get her. That was even stupider because my dad would have gone after her in a heartbeat.

Why would he have done that you ask? It's simple, he loved the bitch. My daddy worked his ass off to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads, but it was never enough for my mom. She thought she was entitled to the finer things in life although she'd never once had a job and barely kept the house. By the time I was four, I knew every item on McDonald's menu because she was always calling my dad and telling him she was too tired to cook so he'd have to bring something home. I think that was why I was so chunky growing up. I'm a lot slimmer now because I eat better and I get more exercise too.

Even after what she did to him, running off with another man and leaving him with two kids to raise alone, my daddy would have taken her back. He loved that woman so much that he'd have done anything for her and suffered any indignity just to make her happy. What a sucker.

Anyway, the salesman's eyes kept wandering. That kind of man never stops looking for something new. Less than a year after she left us, he'd already taken up with another woman and they were arguing constantly. My brother, Tommy, told me about it once. He knew because she'd called home and asked Tommy if my dad was home. We think she was trying to bluff the salesman into thinking she was going to come home.

Tommy said the salesman told her to go ahead and get her fat ass out of his house. He was tired of fucking her anyway and he already had someone new. That was all Tommy heard before she started begging him to stay and put the phone down. Anyway, it was probably that same day that it happened. It must have been because we heard about it the next day.

It turned out that the for once the salesman hadn't been lying. He was messing around with someone else. And she, like my mom, had been married at the time. Only the new woman was married to one of those mob types. Someone kicked in the door while mom and the salesman were eating and shot both of them multiple times. The salesman learned a lesson about screwing the wrong woman and mom was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At the time, I didn't really understand what had happened. I was only four when she left. I missed her for a few days but that was it. I was still loved and clothed and fed, so life went on. When I got older and heard about it, I became determined not to ever do the same things. My brother, Tommy, joined the Marines and left us when he turned eighteen. I haven't seen or heard from him since. My daddy barely lived long enough for me to turn eighteen, myself. He'd been trying to drink himself to death since mom left us and two weeks after my eighteenth birthday he collapsed.

The doctors were amazed that he'd lived as long as he had. His liver was so destroyed by the amount of alcohol he drank every night that he had to have been in constant pain for the last couple of years. I personally hope that there's no such thing as life after death. My daddy is too good a man to have him reunited with that bitch because they're both dead now. And I'm sure that's what he was hoping for.

Anyway, I moved in with my aunt. She was my father's sister and she'd hated my mother as much as I did. Unfortunately, as I've said, I look a lot like my mom and I'm sure Aunt Sally saw my mother every time she looked at me.

Aunt Sally had two sons. One, who was older than me at twenty and one, who, at eighteen, was my age.

Both of them were constantly trying to either catch me without my clothes or trying to sneak a feel. And they were my cousins. When I brought it up to my aunt, she immediately blamed me. She accused me of sticking my chest out to entice her two precious angels. I guess she thought that somehow my evil titties just leaped out and pressed themselves against her two innocent sons.

She was sure that I'd end up just like my mother. I realized then that staying there for very long wasn't an option. I got a job working in a mom and pop convenience store close to my aunt's home. It wasn't bad for a first job. Working with mom was brutal, she expected me to do everything. I had to run the counter, stock the shelves, sweep the floors and do everything she could think of. Working with pop was a lot better. He often gave me little bonuses and extras and hardly made me do anything.

Pop treated me really well. He was always hugging me whenever mom wasn't around and for an eighteen year old girl, I was pretty naïve. After I'd been there for a while, pop started buying me presents. He'd say that someone like me deserved pretty things. Little did I know that pop was setting me up. He took his time about it, but in less than a year pop got my cherry. I thought I was in love and I thought pop loved me too, until the night that mom caught us in the store room. Pop swore that I'd led him on and teased him beyond all reasonable expectation. According to him I was always bending over and wiggling my ass in his face or flashing my tits at him.

Naturally, mom believed him and I was history. And, of course, my aunt believed them when she called to ask why I'd been fired. My next job was working at a gas station doing the same thing. The only difference was that the station was owned by three brothers. This time I knew that I needed the job. I wanted to move away from my aunt's place. She was forcing me to go to church every Sunday and spend all day there. At the same time I never had any free time because I was always working, cleaning her house or cooking. I felt like a slave.

One of the men from the church asked me why I wasn't in school. At first I figured that it was his hustle. The school thing was his way of doing something for me so he could fuck me. By that time I figured, the guys who owned the station were all doing it, so what could it hurt.

He had me fill out a lot of financial aid papers and sent them in. To my surprise, he got me a hardship case scholarship. It paid for tuition, books and room and board as long as I kept my grades up to a certain level. I really didn't know what I wanted to study. I thought about business so maybe I could get a job as a secretary or something like that. Everyone thought it was a good idea. When I gave it further thought, I hated it. As a secretary I'd always have some guy who wanted to bend me over his desk. My job would never be about my skills so I had to come up with something else.

I finally decided to study automotive technology because while I worked at the gas station, I discovered that I loved cars. My bosses at the gas station thought it was funny as hell. My aunt looked at me and told me to pick something else because I was just picking that career field to be around men all the time. She was even more convinced that I was trying to follow in my mom's footsteps.

She told me I had two choices, either pick a different field or move out of her house. She didn't realize that with the room and board paid for, I'd be moving anyway and far sooner than she expected. I'd actually been planning on leaving the next day. I had to be there for freshman orientation and to be assigned to my room in the dorms. I ended up telling her to suck it. I did use exactly those words too. Unfortunately, she didn't understand what it meant.

My bosses were, of course, very unhappy about me leaving. Not because they couldn't replace me. I was sure they'd have one of their daughters or nieces in my place so fast the seat would still be warm from my ass when she sat down. But it meant an end to all the free pussy.

My first year of school was a struggle. I hadn't done well in high school so I had to take a lot of remedial classes. That first year, my schedule didn't include any technical classes. All I took were classes like English, History, Psychology and Math. I didn't have Algebra or Trig because my math scores were so low I needed to get a general math grade before I could be placed in a college level course.

My roommate, of course, came from an upper middle class family in the burbs. She introduced me to drinking and partying. I ended the first school year on scholarship probation. Scholarship probation isn't the same as academic probation. My grades were all solid C's. Some of them were earned the hard way with me cracking the books and trying my best to expand my brain.

Others were earned by me cracking my shirt and exposing my tits. Fuck English, I really don't care where the commas go. And who really uses semicolons anyway.

Even though I wasn't taking any of my technical classes yet, I got a break near the end of the school year. One of the instructors in the shop program was offering a special summer program. It involved working as assistants, getting cars ready for summer car shows and races. It meant a lot of washing cars and waxing them and detailing them. There was also some travel involved in getting cars to the different venues across the country.

I put in my application and my roommate looked at me like I was crazy. "Why the hell would you want to spend your summer washing cars?" she asked me. "It doesn't even pay very much."

It actually only paid fifty bucks a week. But it included room and board as well. That meant that I could continue to live in the dorm for the summer plus I'd have fifty dollars a week to start saving. For me it was a Godsend because if I didn't get it, I'd have to go back to my aunt and I was sure that she'd know what suck it meant by then.

I put in three separate applications. By the time I dropped the third one off the secretary stopped me before I left and told me to go into the office. Her boss wanted to talk to me.

That was the first time I saw Brandon Matthews. He was one of the professors for the automotive tech program. Hopefully, next semester I'd have one of his classes.

"Hi Mona," he said. He smiled at me. I was shocked. He actually looked at my eyes and not my tits. If I'd known that I was going to be in his office, I'd probably have worn something a bit more low cut. Maybe he can't see them I thought, so I pushed my shoulder back a bit. It didn't make any difference.

"Mona, I've already got two applications from you," he said. "Please tell me you weren't dropping off another one."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I really want to do this badly."

"Why?" he asked. "You could make more money working at Burger King for the summer."

"But I wouldn't be doing anything with cars," I said. "Plus if you look at the big picture, I'd make more but my expenses would be higher too, plus I wouldn't get to travel. With this program, I get to work around cars; that's a plus. I get to live in dorms and eat in the cafeteria, that's also a plus. It's the best possible situation for me."

"Okay Mona," he said. "I usually try to pick guys for these things that I've worked with, but I have to admire your persistence and the fact you said that working around cars was a plus. I'm not supposed to be making any decision until next week. But if you promise not to pester me with any more applications, you're on the team."

I was so happy I thought I'd bust. I didn't realize until later that it was a really special thing for me. I got home and told my roommate that I was on the team. "Oh Yay," she said. "You get to spend your summer as a wash monkey. Who knows by next year maybe you'll have graduated to grease monkey."

"What about the next year?" I asked. Even her sarcasm couldn't dampen my mood.

"Shit by the next year," she said. "All of the preliminaries will be over with; you'll be a full-fledged monkey-monkey." She laughed but I didn't think it was funny. Still there was just magic in the whole situation for me. I didn't have to go back to my aunt's house. I didn't have to work in a gas station or a convenience store where I had to fuck some guy to keep my job and I was secure for at least another year.

It didn't hit me until later that Mr. Matthews had looked at me and picked me based on something other than my tits or fucking me. He'd given me the job because I'd gone after it, I'd been persistent about it and he could tell that I really wanted to do it.

That summer was a magical time for me. I was a part of a team for the first time in my life. All of the other members of the team were guys. Surprisingly though, they treated me with respect. It was one of the strangest experiences of my life. It was like traveling with seven brothers. Only these guys treated me far better than my real brother ever had.

Don't get me wrong, they were all real guys. You could tell that by the way they treated and talked about the car show girls. It wasn't unusual for me to go looking for wax or supplies and come up behind them and catch snatches of conversations about the girls.

I'd hear, "Man did you see how Melissa's ass is popping out of those shorts?" and the other guy would reply. "Forget about her ass, I'd suck those tits for days." Then as soon as they saw me coming towards them, they'd quickly go back to a PG conversation. "Hi Mona," they'd both say with huge smiles. "Do you need any help?" Or "Mona, if I wash this car, would you wax it?"

I was probably the best waxer on the team. The guys' hands were too big to get inside the curves for some of the fine detail work. And there was also the fact that they were in too big of a hurry to get the job done. I liked to take my time and enjoy running my hands over the car. If I wasn't disturbed, I could wax for hours. I'd just be there in my own little world.

They really could have used that summer as one of those young adult sex movies. All they'd have needed was a deranged killer to start killing off the car show models and we'd have a hit. As we traveled from show to show and state to state, the guys got laid a lot. Early on, it was with women who'd be at the show and were impressed by the cars and the allure of the show. But as we kept doing the same shows with a lot of the car show models, the guys actually started getting lucky with them as well. That really didn't work as well as you'd expect. Most of those women were professional models and really nice girls, but they had to put their careers first and the average guy is simply not capable of watching his girlfriend or someone he's trying to claim, strut herself in front of a bunch of other guys on a regular basis.

You'll note that I said most of those women were professional models and really nice girls. There were also a few who were just flat out HOEfessional models who would fuck anything that wasn't nailed down, especially if it brought the chance for a few dollars or a photo session. Those girls broke a lot of hearts and laughed about it. But most of them got a reputation for being a bitch and by the middle of the summer none of the guys would touch them with someone else's dick.

So there I was in the midst of all of this debauchery, being treated like Rebecca from Sunnybrook Farm. By the middle of August, I was horny as hell. I wondered why everyone was getting laid except me. Sure, I'd never had a real boyfriend in my life, but I'd gotten pretty used to having regular sex. And though I'd never actually initiated it or looked for it, I kind of missed it.

So I asked one of my best friends on the tour, Joe Simpson, about it. "Joe, I know I'm not as pretty as the models," I began. "But I'm not exactly a troll and I do have a nice body. Maybe I'm not built like those models but everything I have is real and has a lot less mileage on it. Why hasn't anyone hit on me?"

Joe and I had always been able to talk about anything. He looked away from me so fast I thought someone had tied a string to his head and pulled it.

It took a lot of prodding and begging. He swore me to secrecy and then told me the truth. A lot of the guys on tour liked me. And a lot of the guys coming to the show asked about me too, especially the ones who were turned off by the overly made up model types and wanted something real. But professor Matthews had talked to the guys before the tour began and told the guys to treat me like I was his daughter. Not only were they all prohibited from laying a hand on me, they were instructed to make sure that no one else did either.

Everyone liked Professor Matthews, so they'd have done it for him just for him asking, but he'd also made it clear that if anyone didn't follow his rules regarding me, they'd be committing career suicide because not only would he not recommend them for anything, he'd give negative feedback on them and their skills whenever asked, forever.

So if you put two and two together, you could see why I was having a very lonely summer. Most of the guys liked Matthews and there was simply too much available pussy out there for anyone to risk messing with me.


Love is for Suckers



Joe did tell me that I'd seriously affected a lot of the guys during the tour though.

"Mona, sometimes when you'd wash a car in a tank top or a T-shirt and you'd lean over the car with those big old titties trying to pop out of your shirt, I'd have to go take a shower," he said. "It's not like the models. Most of them are tiny little girls with fake tits that just don't move like yours. Those girls have more plastic in their bodies than the cars do and almost as much paint. Their smiles are as fake as their tits. But sometimes, I'd watch you waxing and the movement of your arms caused your ass to jiggle or worse cause those nipples to stick out. I'm telling you, if I wasn't afraid of what Matthews would do to my career, I'd have fucked you."

The funniest thing about it was that after having the conversation with Joe, I wasn't horny any more. As a matter of fact it was just the opposite. I started to realize that the guys I'd considered to be like brothers were just as bad as all the rest. I'd given them the benefit of the doubt because they hadn't made any moves on me and because we shared a love of cars. But in reality, they were just as bad as the other guys and maybe worse. These guys had so many hot, available women around them that most of them didn't value women at all. To them a nice car was something to be cherished and taken care of, but women were just another commodity to be used and tossed aside when you were done with it, like tire gel or car wax.

More and more my fantasies turned towards the only man who had ever treated me like more than that. Unfortunately, he was the worst person in the world for me to be hung up on.

Professor Matthews was what I considered a fool. He was just like my dad. He was so hung up on his wife that nothing would ever come between them. He didn't even travel with the tour. He just flew in for the major shows because he couldn't tear himself away from that bitch long enough. She'd come to a couple of the major shows with him. I hated her on sight. She didn't like or know anything about cars. I didn't even like the way she looked. She was thin to the point of being emaciated. Like one of those former runway models. The car show girls looked like aliens next to her. She was so tanned, she almost looked black and all of her clothes looked like they came straight out of a magazine. Even her shoes had patterns and she always looked like she was bored to death.

I guess if I had to be truthful, I was probably just jealous of her because Brandon Matthews followed her around like a lost puppy hanging on her every word. I hoped he ended up better than my dad did.

Fortunately, I didn't have to see her very often and the summer ended and with it the tour. I settled back into school and didn't run into Mr. Matthews again.

My second year of school was a disaster. There's no other word to describe it. As I've already said, I was on scholarship probation. I had to get my grades up or lose my scholarship. I tried, I really tried, but my academic foundation from high school was terrible. There were simply too many things that most students had learned that I hadn't. When the semester ended in January, my scholarship wasn't renewed. My only option was to get a job and try to pay my own way.

My classes were far more expensive than I'd ever thought. Couple that with the fact that, all of a sudden, I had more expenses than I'd ever dreamed of and you'll begin to see the problems I faced. At twenty two years old, I'd never been on my own. What might have seemed like good money when I was working in a gas station but living with my aunt was nowhere near enough to support myself and still go to school. Even when I got a roommate, it was sometimes a choice between paying my share of the rent and having enough money to buy food. I really began to miss my aunt. Even putting up with my cousins would have been better than what I was forced to endure.

By spring, my roommate had bailed on me and I couldn't afford the rent. I had enough money for food but I wasn't saving any and I didn't have a place to stay. I tried to find another job but on a college campus where every student is looking for a part time job, there simply weren't enough jobs to go around.

I thought I had gotten a break when one of the guys I'd worked with on the team the previous summer ran into me as he was coming out of a bar. He stayed in an apartment off campus and told me that I could sleep on his couch for a while.

I thought that I'd gotten lucky. I figured I'd keep his apartment clean and cook for him for a week or two. That would enable me to save up a couple of paychecks. I could use that money to get an apartment of my own and then find a good roommate.

He also thought that he got lucky. He didn't care about having his meals cooked or his apartment cleaned. He started hinting and rubbing against me. Finally he just came out and told me what he wanted. For the first time I started to balk.

"But what about what professor Matthews told you guys?" I asked him.

"Matthews doesn't matter anymore," he smirked. "He's a drunk, fuck him. He can barely remember his way to his classroom or his lab."

That put me into shock. I started thinking about it. I hadn't actually seen him in a long time. I wondered what could have sent him over the edge. In the back of my mind, I had an idea, but I hoped that I was wrong.

I gave in and let the guy have what he wanted. After all, it earned me a spot on a nice soft warm couch. But as he drooled and humped away at me, my mind was miles away. My plans to stay with him for a couple of weeks were also uprooted. The second night, he had a few friends over. They were really nerdy guys so I felt safe. I went out and told him that I'd be back by around midnight, thinking that his friends would be gone. When I got back most of them were drunk. He was also pissed at me. I wondered why he was pissed.

"Uhm, I need you to do me a favor," he said.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like you did for me last night," he said. "No one will ever know."

I sighed. "As soon as your friends leave," I said, hoping they'd leave and we could just get it over with.

"That's not it," he said. "It's not me. It's them. Just hang out with us for a little bit and let's see what happens."

What happened was they got me drunk and fucked me. I don't remember any of it. I was never big on alcohol but even so, they might have put something in my drinks because I had no memory of anything that happened. I just woke up the next morning feeling awful. I was sore between my legs and I had a headache. My roommate couldn't even look me in the eye.

I didn't say a word. I just went to work since I couldn't afford to get fired as well. When I got back that night, he gave me the bad news. He'd offered to let me stay with him because he'd broken up with his girlfriend. They were getting back together so I had to leave the next day. I wanted to cry. It just seemed like I couldn't get a break.

After work the next day, I hung out at a bus stop for the whole night. I put my things in one of the large lockers and kept the key in my pocket. I kept getting up and checking the schedule every time one of the guards would come by. I had to find a place to stay.

The next night, after work, I was walking by a restaurant and a guy came running down the street after me. He was one of the guys from the impromptu party the other night. While he was talking to me, the guys that he'd been hanging out with came up behind us too. They asked me if I wanted to hang out with them and I told them no.

"Why not?" he asked. He actually looked hurt.

"You only want me to hang out with you so you can try to get me drunk and rape me again," I said, louder than they were comfortable with.

"That wasn't rape, you loved it," he snapped.

"I was so drunk that I couldn't object to it," I said. "Is that the only way you losers can get a girl?"

"No, I'll show you another way," he said. He grabbed my arm and pushed me into the alley. One of his friends grabbed my other arm and put his hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream. I kicked and bit and scratched at them but there were three of them and all of them were bigger than me.

They knocked me down onto the ground in the alley but I kept fighting. They started trying to pull my jeans down and then it happened. A voice came out of the darkness of the alley. "Hey, you assholes, leave that girl alone."

They looked up in surprise and ran off into the night. The man who'd yelled at them staggered over to me. He didn't look nearly as solid as he'd sounded. I think that if they'd gotten a good look at him, they probably wouldn't have stopped what they were doing.

I was so grateful for his help that I didn't care who he was, I wanted to hug him, drunk or not. Then I took a closer look at him and wanted to cry.

He looked like he hadn't shaved in three or four days. His clothes were disheveled and unkempt. He had a paper bag in one hand that obviously contained a bottle of liquor of some kind. But it was Brandon Matthews or what was left of him.

He fell down beside me in the muck of the alley. "Professor Matthews. Thanks," I said.

"M not a professor," he said. "My friend the Dean tol' me t' take some time off, maybe a month an' get it together r' else," he slurred.

"Well, you're still a professor to me and a hero," I said.

He gave a little salute and then stared at me. "You're cute," he slurred.

"Professor, don't you recognize me?" I asked. "I'm Mona Fullerton."

"Mona Fullerton has incredible breasts," he slurred. I looked at him and he was asleep in the muck of the alley. I reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. His driver's license had his address on it. I vaguely knew where his house was but having the address helped. I reached into his other pockets until I found his keys. There was a key fob for a car on the ring. I pushed the alarm button and didn't hear anything. I ran to the end of the alley and tried again. Then I heard a chirp-chirp sound.

I looked around and found the car that had issued the sound. It was a beautiful black Mustang GT. I got in the car and started it up. I'd never driven a car like that before. I'd washed a few hundred cars like it over the summer but driving it was another matter. I eased the beast into the alley and dragged Matthews into the passenger seat. Then I backed out of the alley and started for the main roads. As Matthews snored in the seat beside me, I noticed something that might help. The car had a nav system. I turned it on and looked at his stored locations. I pushed the button next to the one labeled home and got directions. I followed the directions and came to Matthews' house. It was a beautiful split level ranch. I pulled the car into the driveway and went up and rang the bell to wait for his wife. I was really not looking forward to arguing with her or explaining why I was bringing her husband home drunk. But after five full minutes when she hadn't come to the door, I realized that she probably wasn't home.

I dragged Matthews out of the car and with one arm around him, got him walking towards the porch. He tripped and fell a couple of times but I finally got him into the house. I put him down on the sofa and went back to lock the car.

I looked around the house until I found the linen closet and brought a blanket to cover him with. The house was slightly cold. It wasn't like there was no electricity more like the furnace was turned down for the night. I looked around the house and finally had to admit that we were alone. I decided that I was at least entitled to something to eat and a place to sleep for the night.

After all, I had managed to get him home. On his own, there was no way he'd have been able to drive that car without possibly killing someone. On the other hand, even drunk, he'd saved me from being gang raped. So maybe we were even.

I looked through the refrigerator and was surprised. The fridge was almost empty except for a bunch of TV dinners and frozen stuff. I wondered why they didn't cook. His wife probably couldn't cook. She definitely didn't seem like the domestic type.

I got a single-serving Stouffer's lasagna and a warm coke. I ate in silence and then joined the sleeping Matthews in the living room.

When I awoke the next morning, he was still asleep. I grabbed the keys from the counter where I'd left them and drove down the street to a convenience store. I bought a dozen eggs, a loaf of bread, a package of bacon and some margarine. As I drove back down the street to the house, I saw an old lady from across the street staring at me as I went back inside. I waved at her and she closed her door quickly.

I started to clean the kitchen and then started making breakfast. I made the eggs on the stove and the bacon in the microwave. I also started the coffee. I called my job and told my boss that I'd been attacked the previous night and probably wouldn't be in. He was fine with it. I know he'd just give the girl that he was screwing extra hours. It was a win-win-win situation. He got more pussy, she got more hours and hence more money and I got more time with Matthews.

It was probably the smell of the food cooking that woke him. But more than likely it was my nearly silent attempt to throw out all of his liquor. Drunks have some sort of special radar when it comes to the sound of their liquor bottles being jiggled or moved.

He staggered into the kitchen looking confused. "How did I get home?" he asked.

Then he looked at me in shock. "Oh please tell me that I didn't..." he said. "Wait a minute. I'm still dressed."

"No professor," I said. "You didn't do anything wrong. In fact you saved me last night."

"I know you don't I?" he said. "But I've never had you in a class. You're Mona right?"

"You said some interesting things about me last night," I smirked. "But I took it as a compliment." He looked away from me.

"Why don't you go and have a shower," I said. "Breakfast is almost ready." He nodded and started looking in cabinets.

"It's all gone," I said. "I already poured most of it down the sink while I cooked. There are a couple of bottles left though."

"I just need one drink, Mona," he said.

"No you don't," I answered. "You need to shower and then come and eat breakfast with me." He nodded like a child and started up the stairs.

I finished making breakfast and set the table. When he came back down the stairs he sat down at the table across from me. He had shaved and cleaned himself up and put on fresh clothes. He looked a lot better.

"Mona, thanks for...for everything," he said.

I just smiled at him and nodded. He ate and looked at me again. "This is really good," he said.

"From the looks of things you're just hungry," I said.

"Mona, what happened last night?" he asked.

"Do you mean between us...?" I asked. "...Or do you want the whole story?"

"Let's go for the deluxe package," he said. "But keep your voice down. You know how loud and animated you get when you're excited." That was a step up. He was beginning to remember things.

"You won't have to worry about that," I told him. I don't have much to be excited over. I told him the whole story of my last few months starting with losing my scholarship and everything leading up to that moment in graphic detail. He just shook his head.

"Who were they?" he asked about the boys from last night. "Do you remember any of them?"

"I could probably find them," I said. "But what's the point? Getting them in trouble won't make my life any better. And thanks to you, nothing serious happened. Even if they had succeeded, they would only have taken by force what others have taken through coercion anyway."

"Do you know Mr. Matthews, up until this point in my life; I don't think I've ever once had sex because I wanted to." He looked at me strangely.

"I guess I'm going to have to re-evaluate the way I think about my mother." He gave me another strange look.

"So what's next for Mona?" he asked. Now it was my turn to look at him.

"Huh?" I asked.

"What's the next step in your plan for world domination, Mona," he asked smiling.

"I don't have a plan," I said quietly. "I was just making it up as I go along."

"How much do you make at your job?" he asked.

"Seven fifty," I said.

"Wow," he said. "Is that gross or net?" I looked at him crazily.

"Is that what you make before taxes or take home?" he asked.

"Uhm before taxes, I guess," I said why.

"So that's still about five to five fifty, take home right?" he said. "That's way more than I can afford."

"What are you talking about Mr. Matthews?" I asked.

"Well Mona, I had an idea," he said. "Actually a couple of ideas but you're way out of my price range. Why the heck are you in college anyway if you're making that kind of money?"

"Mr. Matthews, are you joking with me?" I asked. "Seven dollars and fifty cents per hour is not good money at all." He started laughing at me. Then he handed me the phone.

"I thought you were talking about seven hundred and fifty dollars a week," he said. I laughed too. "Call your boss," he said.

I dialed the station. "Is it ringing?" He asked.

"He just answered," I said.

"Tell him you quit," he said.

"I can't do that," I said, hanging the phone up. "Do you know how hard it is to get a job these days?"

"Mona you don't need a job," he said seriously. "You need a life. I'm giving you two options. Plan A, you move in here with me and take care of the house for me. Your problem so far is that you can't find a job that pays you enough to both pay your rent and eat and pay for your incidentals, right. Here, you'll have room and board, plus I'll pay you a hundred and fifty dollars a week that you can use to buy whatever you want or save towards returning to college in the fall. The winter spring courses are almost over anyway." I looked at him like he was crazy, my mouth just dropped open but I couldn't say anything.

"Plan B," he said. "Is similar, but instead of giving you a certain amount of money, I just cover your costs for school next year. We have probably five months until school starts again. In plan A, you'd probably end up with about thirty six hundred dollars saved which might be enough to cover your tuition and books but at least you'd have the money. Even if you decided not to go back to school, you'd have the cash. With plan B, if you decided to go back to school you'd probably be better off because I'd have promised to cover all of your expenses for a full year of school. You'll have to pick the one that's right for you."

My mind was working at more than a mile a second. I was ready to negotiate how many times a week I'd have to fuck him. Either plan seemed great to me, there was no possible way for me to lose. And for once, I didn't mind having to sleep with the person giving me the offer.

"How is Mrs. Matthews going to handle this?" I asked. From the look on his face I knew I'd screwed up royally. In less than a second, he went from being very close to his former self, back to the broken man I'd seen in the alley last night. It was actually worse because at least last night he had the excuse of being drunk.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I don't know what I said that hurt you. If you tell me, I'll never say it again."

"Mona, Miriam left me a few months ago," he said. "I'm just nothing without her. I guess that's why I started drinking in the first place. I know what it was doing to me. I know that it's wrong, but I just really didn't give a damn. I didn't want to be around people. I didn't want to try to get help, I just wanted to..."

"Fuck that!" I said sharply. I was pissed. "I hate that bitch." When I said it I really didn't know whether I was talking about his wife or my mother. Both of them were really stupid bitches who just didn't know how well they had it. They had both pissed away what most women would die for.




Love is for Suckers



As I stewed, he started talking. I let him because I knew he needed to get it out.

"Mona, after last summer, after the tour ended and we started school again, Miriam changed. She's a few years older than me, but it never hurt our relationship. It just seemed like she was bored all of the time. She was constantly getting short with me no matter what I tried to do. I tried to take her on more vacations and actual date nights. It didn't matter. I bought her presents and surprised her with things, that didn't help either. I was ready to suggest that we try counseling."

"Finally, in early October, I came home and she wasn't alone. There was a big guy with her. He was younger than either one of us. I took one look at him and told him to get the hell out of my house. She told me that it was her house too. So I told her to show me one place that her name was on the mortgage. She told me that it didn't really matter, he'd leave but she was going with him anyway. She needed a break from me and my tediously normal life. She was tired of living by rules and doing the same things over and over again one day after another. "

"I was shocked," he said. "She just picked up her purse and walked out of the house with him. She told me she'd call me when she was ready to come back home, maybe."

He looked like he was going to start crying even as he told me the story. He had a friend who was a lawyer who helped him handle things. He got a restraining order against her and her friend to keep them from being able to enter his house again. He tried to file for divorce, but in our state there were too many hoops to jump through to file under most statutes. He was able to file under abandonment. He filed his case that way but until she's been gone for a year his divorce won't be final. She's been gone for six months, but it took him two months to get into court so he has eight months to wait. For the first couple of months he went crazy. He sat by the phone hoping that she'd call and night after night he was disappointed. Then he started drinking and he'd been drinking himself crazy ever since.

"Are you stupid or something?" I asked him.

"Mona, have you ever been in love?" he asked me.

"Hell no," I spat. "I never have been and I never will. Being in love makes you stupid."

"Then, please don't judge me," he said. "Until you've experienced what it feels like to care for someone that much, you have no idea what you'd go through to keep them."

"Oh professor," I said. "I've seen your story before. I know exactly how it ends." I told him about my father and mother and what happened to both of them. He just shook his head. And unbelievably he looked at me.

"I know exactly how your father felt," he said.

I knew then and there that I wasn't going to let Brandon go down that path. "I'll take plan B," I said. "Under one condition."

"What's the condition?" he asked.

"We go grocery shopping today," I said. "There's nothing in this house but liquor and TV dinners and I threw all of the liquor away."

"Sold," he said.

On the way to the grocery store, he took me to the bus stop where I picked up my stuff from the locker. I also called my boss back and told him that I was quitting.

The first two weeks were spent getting the house back up to what I considered good condition. I had Brandon work very closely with me, so I could keep an eye on him. Every time I saw him start to think about his ex , I did my best to cheer him up. At night, at first we had school. Brandon and I tackled one subject a night four nights a week to help me to prepare for when I went back.

He taught me so many things that I'd never really known. He actually taught me how to study. He taught me how to take notes and how to quickly discern the key things that I really needed to remember from each chapter. I was happy.

After that first two weeks, Brandon was looking much better too. He didn't seem to be as withdrawn and depressed. That was when we started to work on the outside of the house. We started out by just getting rid of the leaves that had never been raked before the snow set in. Now that we were having a few warmer pre-spring days, if we took care of those things we'd have a lot less to do once spring came. We'd also gotten really lucky. Brandon had neglected to drain and winterize his pool. He was left with a bunch of dirty mildewed water that was still frozen in spots. While the weather was warm enough we got the water out and used a non-abrasive cleaner to get rid of the mildew and discoloration in the pool. We ran some clean water through the pipes and made sure there were no leaks or cracks in the pool or pipes.

Brandon also decided to go out for a run. He wanted to run five miles that first day at a slow pace. He probably would have made it if it hadn't been for one thing; me. I'd never run even a block in my life. Before we made it a half mile, I was wheezing and about to die. We opted for power walking instead and by the time we'd gone a mile, it was evident that I didn't have any power for that either.

We also got a lot of really dirty looks from women walking in the park. We got looks from men too but I didn't mind those. I did mind almost knocking myself out on several occasions though. When we got home, Brandon took me shopping for some athletic gear to wear because my boobs were just too big to go unrestrained and a regular bra wasn't going to be able to contain them.

I did my research and found out the kinds of things that we needed to eat to get back in shape. It was the first thing that Brandon and I did together. That night I could barely move, everything hurt. My shoulders were sore from the power walking arm swing. My back hurt from counterbalancing my breasts. My legs hurt because the muscles weren't used to being used that much and my ass hurt because the movement of the legs originates from the hips. My feet hurt because I didn't have the right kind of shoes.

I made us a huge dinner salad to share that had meats in it for protein. After dinner, we settled on the sofa to watch TV. Brandon noticed that I could barely move and he gave me a shoulder massage. His hands felt like magic. I didn't really care where he touched me. I just liked having him do it.

I knew what he was doing though. I knew that he was just using the massage to warm me up. My only question was whether he was going to take me to his bed or right there on the sofa.

He started with my neck and shoulders and moved down to my back, then my lower back. He skipped my ass and went to my legs. Then he rolled me over and did the front of my legs and then he just told me good night. He said he had an idea that might make the next day easier but he wouldn't tell me what it was. I really didn't care, I was still reeling from the fact that he wasn't trying to have sex with me.

That night I was so hot from his massage that I ended up masturbating to visions of Brandon. I imagined him coming into my room to check on me and me giving him something to check out for real.

The next morning I was ready for more pain. Brandon surprised me though. He had a bike for me. He was able to run his entire five miles while I kept up with him on the bike. I even beat him on the way back home. I liked the bike. It was great for toning my legs and ass. It would also help me lose fat over my entire body but it wouldn't give me all of the strain on my back and it eliminated the movement of my boobs.

I still needed another massage that night and he still skipped all of the good parts. I also had the weirdest dream. In my dream, I was taking a shower and getting ready for bed. I turned off the shower and toweled myself dry. Then I put lotion all over myself and got into bed. A few minutes later, Brandon came in and got into bed with me. We talked for a while and then he kissed me. The kisses started to build in intensity and he started running his hands over my body, only it felt so much better than the massages he'd been giving me in real life.

His hands weren't tentative and he was not trying to be nice. He was teasing me and stoking my fire. His fingers lightly went over my legs, coming close to but never touching my pussy though I was aching for him to. Then he lightly traced a line that started at my belly button and slowly inched closer to where I wanted those fingers.

I opened my legs in anticipation and also to urge him on. When he got there, it felt so good. I just sighed and let my legs just splay open. He gently massaged my vulva causing me to gasp in pleasure. I was already warm and wet for him. He dipped one finger inside of me and I couldn't wait any longer. I reached over to him and he was already hard, so I rolled him onto his back and mounted him. I lined his throbbing dick up with my opening and pushed down wards and back.

"Oh, Mona," he gasped. He reached up for my breasts that were hanging just over his face and swinging back and forth with every thrust of my hips. He gently started sucking them and squeezing them. He pulled one of my large nipples into his mouth and sucked on it. The combination of sensations started me on the path towards my climax.

"Ohhh, Brandon," I screamed. It was very intense. I felt things in my pussy that I had never come close to before. There was a simultaneous explosion in both my head and my vagina and I felt a gush of fluid down there too. "Yes," I screamed loudly just as the lights came on.

I was confused for a moment until I realized that I wasn't dreaming and the lights really were on in my room.

"Are you okay, Mona?" asked Brandon. "Oh, sorry," he said. "I thought you called me. It sounded like...sorry," and then he left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving me there on the bed, bathed in sweat, with my hands still between my legs.

The next morning was embarrassing. I really didn't want to leave my room. He gently knocked on the door to see if I was ready to go out for our run.

"Brandon, I don't want to go today," I said. He very slowly opened the door. I was lying on the bed when he came in. He turned to the side to avoid looking at me and covered me up as he sat down on the bed.

"Why don't you want to go today?" he asked. I didn't say anything. I just turned my head to the side. "I thought you liked our morning workouts." The blanket had shifted when I turned my head and exposed the top of one of my breasts. He gently covered it again.

"Boy, we went from Mona Fullerton has incredible breasts to I don't even want to see those things in a hurry didn't we?" I asked quietly.

"No Mona, I don't think we'll ever be there," he said smiling. "In fact, after briefly seeing them while trying not to look, I think they're even more incredible than I ever imagined."

"Then why are you covering them up?" I asked.

"Because Mona, it's up to you to decide, who gets to see them; no one else. I really want to apologize again for last night. I'm truly sorry. I really thought that something was wrong. You were kind of screaming and I've never heard you do that before. I was worried."

The bastard was saying all of the wrong things. Almost every word he said just made the situation worse. I guess I'd always had a little bit of a crush on him. I didn't mind it. It gave me a face to masturbate to. But the time I was spending with him and the way he treated me, was just fucking everything up. He was trying to make me one of them. I didn't ever intend to fall in love. Love made people do really stupid things. Look at what it did to my father. And Brandon was no better. I knew for a fact that if his wife came back or even called he'd go to her like a bat out of hell. And just like my dumb assed father, she could walk back into this house and he'd take her back in an instant.

She could just say, "Look, I'm back. I don't want to talk about it. If you want me to stay, then don't bring it up." And he'd ask her what she wanted for breakfast. Men are stupid and blind when they're in love. They'll give up everything for love. Common sense loses to love every time. Self-respect loses out to sleeping next to the person of your dreams. Love is like cancer. It eats away at your brain and just leaves a blackened useless mush. Love is for suckers.

I guess that's why, especially after growing up around my dad, I decided that love is the one disease that I would never succumb to. I tried to be nice to everyone I met, but I never went beyond friendship with anyone. Love and sex are also not connected. All of the men that fucked me never did it because they loved me. They did it because I have big tits and a round ass and those things arouse men. And I let them because I needed something they had to offer. Maybe it was a job or a place to stay or whatever, but it was always tit for tat.

If everyone has a code or a mantra that gets them through tough times, I knew what mine was. There was an all-girl metal band from back before I was born. The band was called Poison Dollys. Yeah, they spelled it wrong, but so did Def Leppard and a lot of other bands back then. Anyway my favorite song by that band was "Love is for suckers."

Another band, "Twisted Sister," originally wrote the song, but the Dollys changed the lyrics and redid it. Their version is tighter and just better. It's like the theme song for my life.

"Wicked acting on the outside but I'm trembling on the inside."

"I want a future, not a moment, some perfection, can't hold back"

"Don't want to wind up, half naked. Don't want to find out I've been taken."

"Love is for dreamers, love is for believers."

"Love is for losers, love is for suckers."

"Love is for suckers, love is for suckers."

Over the years I'd forgotten some of the lyrics but the message still resonated through my mind. Most of the examples I'd seen; my dad and my Brandon all proved the hypothesis. Love is for suckers and I didn't want to be a sucker.

But every day that came found me falling farther down the rabbit hole. Every step I took found me closer to stepping across that line into suckerhood. Last night was so close to the line that it was crazy. I couldn't believe myself. Screaming out his name while I got myself off was ridiculous. But the dream had been so real and I was really wondering about the state of my mind. I'd always seen myself as a strong independent woman. Was I wrong?

"Well, what if you're the person that I want to see them?" I said, rejoining the real world outside of my head.

"That wouldn't be very smart," he said. "Mona, I'm nineteen years older than you are. That means that I was already an adult before you were even born. And I'm fucked up in the head. I'm still carrying a torch for a woman who obviously doesn't love me. You've already expressed your opinion on love and from a logical standpoint your points are flawless. I'm a fool just like you said your father was. Only I'm more fortunate than he was, because I have you to kick me in my ass and make me pull myself back to the man I should be. You're probably the best friend that I have. And I don't want to do anything to mess that up. Over the past month Mona, you've saved me. Who knows what I might be doing if we hadn't both been in that alley."

I was so choked up. Why the hell was it so easy for him to give me all of this credit when no one else did? Even my own family members didn't have as high an opinion of me as Brandon did. My dad barely ever noticed me. My brother was so eager to get out of the house that he forgot about me. My cousins just saw a pair of tits that they wanted to play with. My aunt saw me as some kind of whore. But Brandon was constantly telling me how smart I was or how hard working I was. He praised my persistence and my organization skills. The only time he'd ever mentioned my body was when he was drunk.

"But..." I began.

"No buts," he interrupted. "I know you see me as being a fool and I've admitted that you're right about Miriam. But that's the only thing I'm a fool about. You've also told me about your life. You've run into a series of assholes who wanted to exploit you or take advantage of you for their own benefit. I don't intend to become one of them.

It figures, I thought. The one guy you want to take advantage of you is usually the one who won't.

"And Mona, this is your home too. If we're living in the same house together, there are going to be some instances where we see each other in various stages of undress. We're both adults, there's no need to make a big thing about it. Or in your case two big things," he smiled. I turned even redder.

"So get your ass out of the bed and onto that bike, chop- chop." He closed the door behind himself. My embarrassment was gone and I was happy again.

We had a very pleasant morning workout. Brandon upped his mileage to seven miles and I rode along with him. On the way out, Brandon had taken his jacket off and tied it around his waist when he began to sweat. On the way back in, the wind was in our faces. I was a little bit chilly. Brandon gave me his jacket. We even stopped and he put in on me and smoothed it down for me. At first, I thought it was because my nipples were showing because of the cold. I thought that maybe he was embarrassed by it or didn't want to see them. Then I realized that since he was running behind me he couldn't see them. He was just being nice again.

On our way down our street, some of the neighbors were out looking at or raking their yards. Brandon waved at them and even yelled to a couple of them. We stopped at one house to speak to a man and his wife and Brandon introduced me to them.

We had a short but nice conversation and Brandon again praised me as being the reason he got his head out of his ass after Miriam left him.

When we got back to the house the extra miles hadn't really hit me yet and I was feeling good. That bastard had done it again. He spoke to those people about me like I was really something special. He just kept worming his way into my heart.

"Mona," he said, as we dragged our tired bodies into the house. "I can't wait for breakfast. Will you make some of those pancakes you made on Sunday?"

"As soon as I have a shower," I said. I was pleased that he liked my cooking too. I was still smiling about it when he did something really dirty.

"Mona, look," he said, pointing outside through the window. I went over to the window and looked around.

"What?" I asked, wondering what he was pointing at.

"Sucker," he yelled from the top of the stairs. He headed into the master bathroom leaving me to stand there sweating. He clearly wanted the first shower.

"All you're doing is delaying your own breakfast," I smirked. But inside I thought about what he called me. I actually was getting closer every day to being just as big a sucker as he and my dad.

Our breakfast that morning was fun, we talked as always about our morning workout and the things we'd seen and how we felt. While I started clearing away the dishes Brandon went out to the garage. The doorbell rang and I answered it.

The woman from the couple that we'd met earlier stood there. She had a big smile and a plate of home-made cookies.

"Hi, I'm Tracy from down the street," she smiled. "We met earlier. My husband Cliff and I were out looking at our yard when you and Brandon went by."

"I remember," I said looking at her. "Do you want to come in?" She nodded and came in.

"My God," she said. "Someone cleaned in here. It smells really good. What did you use?"

I looked at her curiously. "Oh, I almost forgot," she giggled. "These are for you." she handed me the plate of cookies. "Welcome to the neighborhood." We sat down at the kitchen table and talked for ten or fifteen minutes. She started filling me in on all of the things she could about the neighborhood. I looked at her closely. I couldn't believe some of the things she was telling me.




Love is for Suckers



First, Tracy at forty six years old, didn't look like she was even out of her thirties let alone pushing fifty. Her husband, Cliff, was ten years younger than she was and they'd had a baby together only a couple of years ago. The baby was their fourth child. Tracy had another daughter named Amber, by her previous husband and they were also raising Cliff's two children by his previous wife.

Looking at Tracy just amazed me. She was maybe two inches taller than me at five foot four and thinner than I am too. But her boobs were as big as mine. I made up my mind then that I was going to stick to the workout thing and start eating better too. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.

I also realized that Tracy, too, was a sucker. It just seemed like every other sentence was about her husband or mentioned him. What shocked the shit out of me was when she told me that her husband, Cliff, had actually killed her previous husband. It was a bizarre story with Cliff's previous wife getting caught fucking Tracy's previous husband. (read Boo if you haven't)

Tracy and I were just getting comfortable when Brandon came back in from the garage. He waved at Tracy as he went up to wash his hands.

Tracy looked at me and smiled. "Your eyes just lit up when he came into the room," she smiled.

"They did not," I snapped. And she just laughed at me.

"I have to go," she said. "Cliff and I are taking our kids to the spring flower show. We're going to stop back at McDonalds on the way back if they don't destroy any plants that we have to pay for. But I'll be back and probably often. You're fun to talk to."

"It looks like someone made a friend," said Brandon. "That's good. You and Tracy are a good match."

"She's so nice," I said.

"Yeah, but when you're as pretty as she is and built like she is, a lot of women are afraid of you," he said. "You on the other hand have nothing to worry about. You guys are about equal in terms of uhm...well you know and you don't have a husband to be jealous for."

I have you, dummy, I thought. That was the first time that thought had crept into my mind, but I knew it wouldn't be the last.

"Come on we're going shopping," he said. He surprised me again. He took me shopping at the mall. He let me pick out several outfits that I liked because he thought I needed more clothes. I tried not to spend a lot of money and just got practical things. Just before I thought we were done, he handed me his credit card and told me to go and get myself something that I wanted as a reward for saving him. He'd meet me back at the parking lot because he had to get something too.

When I met him back at the car he was smiling from ear to ear like a kid at Christmas. He didn't even look at the packages I was carrying. "Hey, you're walking funny," he said.

"I think I'm starting to feel those extra miles," I said. "I'm probably going to need a massage tonight."

Several of the people in the parking lot had been eavesdropping on us. When he'd said I was walking funny, their dirty minds gave them the wrong impression. The massage part fed their imaginations even more. Shit, I even wanted it to happen. Two of them, an older couple didn't turn away though. They marched right over to us.

"Hi, Brandon," said the woman sharply. I could tell on sight that the old bitch just didn't like me. And her husband was taking my clothes off in his mind. He never looked away from my tits during the whole conversation.

"Hello Miranda, Hi Simon," said Brandon. He reached out to shake the man's hand but they had difficulty grasping each other's hands because apparently Simon found my tits more interesting than Brandon's hand.

"Mona, these are Miriam's parents," said Brandon.

"Have you heard from her yet?" asked Miranda.

"No," said Brandon sadly.

"Well you're not making it any easier on her," snapped Miranda. "Who knows, she may be watching you and trying to decide whether it's time to come home to you yet. She may see you walking around with one of your students and get the wrong impression. Remember if you want her to come back to you someday, you need to let her know that you're ready."

This old bitch was crazy. She was trying to make Brandon feel bad and I got angry. "Maybe he got over her and doesn't give a fuck whether or not she comes back," I said.

Miranda looked like she'd tried to swallow a basketball and it had gotten caught in her throat.

"I mean, just between you and me, Miranda, your daughter was the one who messed up. Brandon could easily replace her with someone younger and fresher. And the way she left him was like something a whore would do. He's better off without her."

Miranda suddenly sucked in a breath and turned red. Her husband was trying not to laugh. And suddenly, even though he was still just staring at my tits, I liked the old guy.

Miranda was still sucking in big gulps of air and trying to come up with something to say. She looked like she'd gone to a formal dinner and found a steaming turd on her plate.

"She didn't realize how lucky she was," I continued. "She was especially lucky when you consider her uhm lack of assets. Not many men go for those bone thin stick figure types anymore and she was getting kind of long in the tooth."

Brandon grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the car. "I'm not one of his students anyway, we're living together," I said as he tried to pull me away faster. "It was nice meeting you," I screamed as he closed the door.

Brandon was seething. The whole drive home he never said a word. This was the first time I'd seen Brandon this way. I was sure he was angry but I couldn't tell why. Was he angry at that silly old woman or was he angry at me.

When I got into the house, I went and put my new clothes away. I looked at each thing except for the dress I'd bought. I didn't even dare look at it out of fear that I was dreaming again. Brandon went and put several packages of his own into the garage.

"What do you want for dinner Brandon?" I asked him as he came back ion from the garage. "I guess we should wait until after dinner for my massage."

"We'd better," he snapped.

"Why?" I asked. "I only wanted to wait because I love it when you massage me. I wanted to have dinner out of the way so I could enjoy it."

"Mona, if I did it now I'd probably still be angry and I'd end up spanking your ass the way you deserve," he said.

I don't know why I did it. I knew that there was something going on here that I didn't understand but I did it anyway. I just started laughing at him like he was crazy. It was almost as if I was trying to make him angrier to goad him into doing it. Before I even knew what was going on, Brandon had picked me up, carried me over to the sofa and sat down with me across his knee. I started wriggling as if I was trying to break free but I didn't do anything that would actually help me to get up. I also didn't say a word. I needed him to stay angry. I was sure that if I asked him not to do it, he'd stop.

Brandon raised his hand and swatted me on my ass and I just stopped moving. I felt so warm with his arms around me trying to keep me from getting away, when in reality I wouldn't have moved if he'd asked me to.

He swatted my ass again and I let out a little moan. I really believe that Brandon thought it hurt because the third swat was softer. The second swat had started my pussy to moistening and my nipples shot out like erasers. I was glad I wasn't wearing a skirt because if it came up he'd probably see the wet spot in my panties. I got really quiet as I waited for the next swat. My legs came a part a little and as his hand swatted my ass the momentum carried his fingertips against my jeans-covered vagina. I was in heaven. I involuntarily started to grind my crotch against his legs.

I was sure that I was going to cum if he kept it up. Have you ever been in one of those embarrassing situations where you're under a lot of stress and you realize that you smell and you need a shower? You hope that no one else can smell your odor but you can't just leave at that moment because you're at work or something like that. Well, that was how I felt. Every time I moved, I could smell my pussy. It was dripping and I hoped that Brandon couldn't smell it because I really didn't want it to ever stop. I'm sure that he thought about it in some stupid macho way like he was disciplining me. But to me, it was a special moment because Brandon had touched my ass of his own free will, so my massage would be different that night.

And wouldn't you know it, just before I reached the point of no return, he stopped. He let me up and I brushed off the back of my pants. "Brandon, I'm going to get you back for this," I sputtered. Then I looked at him and saw tears running down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Mona," he said. "I was just angry."

"Brandon, honey, it's fine," I said. I grabbed his chin and made him look at me. "Maybe I'm a little bit kinky, but I enjoyed it."

I took one of my fingers and wiped a tear from his cheek. I licked that finger. "Mm, salty," I said. "I wonder what else you have that maybe a little salty... And Brandon, I will get you back for this." he nodded and I went to make dinner. Before I started Brandon came into the kitchen and told me that he'd ordered pizza so I didn't have to cook. I smiled at him and told him that we'd eat the pizza, since he'd already ordered it, but I wanted him to know that I enjoyed cooking for him and taking care of him. He looked surprised. The pizza guy got there right on-time and I got glasses for our drinks and took them into the living room so we could relax and watch TV while we ate.

We started to sit but I pretended that my ass was too sore to sit on so I lay on my stomach on the couch. Brandon turned the TV on and we ate and watched world's dumbest criminals.

When we got done eating, I asked Brandon why he was so angry at me. He told me that Miranda was an old woman whose daughter had simply ran off to who knew where. Miriam was Miranda's only child so she was feeling the loss more heavily than any of us. If she wanted to make it seem like it was his fault that Miriam had run off, he could handle that burden if it made her pain any easier.

I explained to him that it was my job to take care of him and that as long as I could breathe and think, I would never let anyone hurt or insult him, whether they were an old lady or not. He smiled, but he told me to think about it as if I had a daughter and she'd done something like that. Parents never want to believe that their kids are the monster.

I stretched out like a cat on the sofa and pushed my shoulders back so my boobs stood out more. Then I asked him if I could have my massage. He came over to the couch and started on my shoulders.

"Brandon, you try to protect me too," I said as he rubbed.

"Mm," he said.

"Is that what you were doing this morning?" I asked. "When you put your jacket over me? It was a bit chilly and you didn't want anyone seeing my nipples standing out." I noticed that he stopped rubbing and his hands got to be more tense than my shoulders.

"That wasn't it," he said. "Look Mona..."

"So what was it?" I asked. "Am I just too ugly to be seen?" He started laughing and tried to change the subject.

I kept going back to it. Finally he just spat it out. "Mona, everything on the planet doesn't revolve around your chest. I was running behind you and I kept looking at your ass. Do you know how hard it is to run when your dick is sticking out like a God damned flag pole?"

I started laughing then. "I'm sorry Mona, but I'm a human too," he said.

"Brandon, I'd consider that a compliment and a step in the right direction," I said.

I settled back down and let his magic fingers do their walking. As he got to my lower back he had to spend more time there because the muscles were really knotted up. As soon as he heard me sigh and relax he skipped down to my legs.

"Wait, Brandon," I said. "We may as well do this right."

I stripped off my jeans and got back into position. I acted like being around him in just my panties was normal. In reality it was stressful for both of us. I wanted him to try something and he was afraid that he would. He got himself together and started to rub the back of my legs just above my knees.

"Uhm Brandon, you skipped the entire area from my lower back to where you are right now," I smirked.

"But, Mona," he said.

"No Brandon, not but, Mona, the correct pronunciation is Mona's butt," I said. "And don't act all squeamish now. You had no problems touching it a couple of hours ago when you spanked me. Do you want me to pull my panties down so you can see how red it is? It needs a little bit of TLC too."

Brandon started to rub my butt. It was the best feeling I'd ever had. I even spread my legs a bit hoping he could see what was under those panties. Almost too soon he started moving down my legs. Surprisingly, Brandon didn't do the fronts of my legs this time. But I had mercy on him and let him go. I was sure he'd left the room because he didn't want me to see the tent in his pants.

That night I was afraid of my dreams so I masturbated before I went to bed. The next morning I woke up happy and ran to see if Brandon was up. Not only was he up he was dressed. "It took you long enough," he said.

"Let me get changed," I said. Then I looked at him and realized that he wasn't dressed for our morning workout.

"Brandon, where are we going?" I asked.

"We're going to an auto parts swap meet," he said. My eyes lit up. And he looked at me like I was crazy. "Mona, you really don't have to go."

"Brandon, I really want to go," I said. And I did. The first reason was because I loved cars. And second because I just loved spending time with Brandon. I would happily sit and watch grass grow with him. Even as I thought it, I realized that it was true and that I was drawing ever closer to that line of demarcation between sucker and normal person.

We spent most of the day looking through displays of parts and sorting through bins of parts. They had a few cars there on display and I kept telling Brandon different things I liked about their paint and how I could have done a better job of waxing those cars.

Then Brandon bought a few parts. "Brandon, why are you buying those?" I asked. "That carburetor is for a 1969 Boss 302. Our Mustang has fuel injection."

"I'll tell you when we get home," he said. It never happened. When we got home he totally changed the subject.

"Mona, to thank you for spending time with me today, I'd like to take you out to dinner. It would be good for you to get out," he said. "Even if it is with an old fossil like me that is only a friend."

I think he must have missed the way my eyes lit up. "Do you have a nice dress you could wear?" he asked.

I dashed up the stairs and into the shower. I washed my hair and blow dried it before braiding it into one long braid over one shoulder. Then I did my makeup and put on the dress that I'd bought the day before. It was a tight silky Chinese dress that I wore with the cutest little flats you've ever seen. I left my legs bare. The dress was perfect. It emphasized the roundness of my butt and my tiny nipped in waist. The top section squeezed and barely contained my bust. When I came down the stairs Brandon was sitting on the couch snoring.

"Brandon, you faker," I screamed. "Get up and let's go."

"Is it still Saturday?" he mumbled. "Is it still April of 2012?"

Then he looked at me and his jaw dropped open. "Mona, you clean up really well," he said.

That dinner was magical. He took me to an Italian restaurant. I'd never been to a grown up restaurant before. We had wine with dinner and not that cheap liquor store stuff. For me the highlight of the evening was when Brandon asked me to dance. He took my hand and led me out on the dance floor. I didn't know how to dance but I faked it. We started the dance out a comfortable distance away from each other but I noticed there were some couples who danced closer to each other. I pulled Brandon in and smashed my tits against his upper tummy. That got an immediate reaction. It made me wish I was a few inches taller because as hard as he was, I could have pulled my dress up and he'd have slid right in. Having him pressed against me with his arms around me was magical, but at the same time it was maddening.

That was the moment I realized that I was a full-fledged, card carrying sucker. I hadn't learned anything from my dad's example or from Brandon's. I loved him. I wanted him badly and there was nothing I wouldn't do for him. The tragedy of the whole thing was that we both knew that he was still hung up on that bitch who'd dumped him.

We whirled around the floor holding each other tightly and I never wanted it to end. But things never end well for suckers. I knew that my happiness was fated to end in tragedy.

The dancing thing had never really been high on my list of priorities. I knew that a lot of people were always excited about going dancing and now I knew why. It wasn't the jangly, up and down, jerky motions practiced at most dance clubs by people my age that lit people's fire. It was the slow, romantic, rhythmic, motions and barely disguised dry humping that we were doing now. There was nothing really sexy about two twenty-something people wiggling their asses at each other from three feet away from each other. But this was something completely different. With every step I tried to mold myself to Brandon even closer.

If it had been possible, I'd have turned us from two people into one scary ass glob of melded humanity. My tits were flattened against him and my nipples hardened rapidly. His dick was getting harder by the second and he was uncomfortable with what we were doing. People started to watch us, because for all intents and purposes we were just dry humping in public. My breathing was becoming more and more ragged and our steps faltered. After a while, we were barely moving around the floor at all. We were just rubbing against each other. At the rate we were going, the next step would have been for us to start taking off clothing.

There comes a point when we all have to realize exactly how far we're willing to go for what we want. That dance was mine. I would have had no problem fucking him right there on that dance floor in front of all of those people. I wouldn't have minded getting arrested for doing it, or having my face and naked body plastered all over the newspapers and internet the next morning either. As a matter of fact, I wanted it. Maybe it would be a way of staving off what was rapidly becoming my greatest fear.

When I first moved in with Brandon, I worried about him killing himself stupidly, like my father did over a woman who wasn't ever going to come back and love him the way he deserved. After getting to know him and discovering that I had feelings for him myself, that had shifted to another fear. Now I only worried that the bitch would come back. Think about it. For a long time, I thought of people like Brandon and my father who wore their hearts on their sleeves as being suckers. Now I realized that I was only three words away from being one myself. And things never ended well for suckers.

Brandon finally pulled himself away from me with as much dignity as he could manage. He led me back to our table looking at me strangely. As we sat down at our table, another couple passed by us on their way to the dance floor. The woman looked at me and whispered, "Damn, somebody is getting some, TONIGHT."

"Whether he wants to or not," I said back. She laughed.

Brandon got the check and we drove home. I knew I had to put him at ease so I downplayed what had happened.

"I guess I got a little bit carried away," I said. "Sorry Brandon, but that was the best time I've ever had in my entire life. I know it was a little bit bad of me. But I just wanted to pretend for just a little while that someone, just once, loved me and wanted me. You know? I wanted to see what it would be like if I was the center of his world and really special to him. The way my mom was for my dad and Miriam is for you. If I can't do that with my best friend then who else do I have? It was only play acting Brandon."




Love is for Suckers



He laughed nervously. "You had me worried there for a while," he said. I thought I detected a note of sadness in his voice. But I really needed to get him off of his guard for what I'd planned for later that night.

When we got back to the house, I told Brandon good night and stood in front of him on my tip toes with my lips puckered and my eyes closed. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes and stared at him. "God damn it, Brandon," I snapped. "After a nice date, it is customary to kiss your date good night."

"Not necessarily on the first date," he said.

"Aha," I snapped. "So you're admitting that this was a date."

"Uhm, it was a friendship date," he sputtered.

"So give me a friendly kiss," I said. He leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. My eyes snapped open in shock. "What the hell was that?" I asked. "Are you going to run down to the kitchen and get me some milk and cookies next? Should I be wearing pajamas with feet in them and clutching my teddy bear for dear life?" He laughed at me.

"That's it Brandon," I sneered. "My revenge for you spanking my ass earlier just got ratcheted up a notch."

"Ooh, I'm shaking," he said.

Goodnight Brandon," I snapped and went down the hall towards my room. He laughed and headed in the opposite direction towards his.

It was times like that when I wished I smoked. I could imagine myself lying there on my bed naked smoking a cigarette while I waited. I'd have my makeup done to perfection and be as glamorous as those movie queens from the forties and fifties before the modern age came along and fucked everything up. This was the first night in a long time that I hadn't put myself to sleep by flogging my feverish pussy until I got my release, with Brandon's images dancing through my head.

I gave him an hour to get to sleep and then another fifteen minutes just to be sure. I took off my dress and hung it up in my closet and then took off my bra and panties. I padded naked down the hallway like a big titted tigress stalking her prey.

I silently turned the doorknob to Brandon's room and opened the door. He looked so innocent sleeping there. He snored lightly and he was smiling. I hoped he was dreaming of me and I hoped that I wasn't taking things too far.

I crawled over to his bed and reached down and ran my fingers around the edge of the bed frame until I found what I was looking for. A long band of silken cloth was tied to the frame. It was one of Brandon's neck ties. Brandon was a fairly heavy sleeper but I still had to be careful. I grabbed his hand that was dangling over the edge of the bed. I quickly and gently wrapped the tie around his wrist and secured it. I did the same thing to the foot on that side. So far so good.

Then I crossed to the other side. I wrapped a longer tie around Brandon's other foot and one around his other hand. There was a lot of slack on the second side. I started to slowly pull on those ties until Brandon was stretched out almost spread eagle. He still had a little bit of room to move but not much. I didn't have to be sneaky any more so I just got up on his bed and straddled his naked body.

Brandon started to wake up. "Huh? What?" he said in his confused, semi awake state. "Mona? What are you...?"

"Shut up Brandon," I said cheerfully. He couldn't see me in the darkness except for a glint of light that came in through the blinds.

"Mona, you don't have any clothes on," he sputtered.

"No shit, Brandon," I said. "Remember how you spanked my ass?"

"Mona, you needed it. Besides it was all in fun," he said.

"So's this," I said. I scooted up until I was sitting on his chest. I was sure that my pussy was the only thing he could see. I scooted even further until my crotch was only inches from his chin. "See anything you like?" I asked.

"Mona, what are you doing?" he asked.

"You spanked me, Brandon," I said. "It was very embarrassing and it made my pussy really wet. I think you should clean up the mess."

"Mona, that was hours ago," he said. "And you already took a shower."

"It's the thought that counts," I said. "I'm still mentally and emotionally scarred from the incident. This would go a long way towards making me feel better. Besides if you don't do it, I won't untie you."

He tried to free himself or shake me off and couldn't.

"Monaaaa," he yelled.

"Brandon, the windows are open," I whispered. "We don't need the neighbors to hear you yelling. Who knows what they might think."

"Ooooh you're going to pay for this, young lady," he hissed. But surprisingly he stuck out his tongue. That first swipe of his wet rough tongue on my tender wet pussy was magical. As the tip of his tongue explored my sensitive areas I swooned and almost fell off of the bed. All kinds of tingles rocketed through nerve endings all over my body. I quickly moved off of him and away from that probing tongue.

"Oh shit," I hissed.

"What's the matter Mona?" asked Brandon. "Can't take it?"

"Brandon, I know you probably think I'm some kind of whore," I said. "But you're the first person to ever do that to me. And it just felt so good. I just needed a second to get myself together."

"Then you should untie me, so I can make it feel even better," he said. I was conflicted.

"A bird in the hand Brandon," I said. I climbed back on top of him. But this time I was facing his feet. As I lowered my still spasming vagina onto Brandon's face he started licking me again. This time, his strokes alternated between quick stabbing strokes that nipped at my clit and longer swiping ones. The longer strokes started at my ass and finished at my clit. I leaned forward and downwards, running my own tongue down the length of Brandon's already engorged dick.

"Lookie lookie," I said as Brandon began to shiver. "Brandon, your thingy is hard and really fat. It's almost as big as it was when you were pressing it into me while we were dancing." Then I slurped along the length and tickled it with the tip of my tongue.

Brandon was having trouble keeping his mind on what he was doing as pleasurable sensations caused him to blow out a big gust of air. That gust of air, of course, blew over my pussy and started me gushing even more of my own secretions. "Oh Brandon," I hissed. "I love...the way that feels," I said, realizing that I'd almost screwed up big time and said those three words.

Brandon started bucking his hips and I bobbed my head up and down faster to keep up with him. We started up in earnest then. Brandon was licking and nipping and probing my vagina with that relentless tongue while I polished his stick shift with reckless abandon. I started feeling like I was going to explode, but Brandon beat me to it. He took a breath and stiffened, "Mona, I'm...Argh," he said, as thick ropes of his essence flooded my mouth. Even as he gasped out his attempted warning he just drove his tongue further inside me than he'd gone up until then and that pushed me over the edge and I just melted.

I went from every nerve impulse firing simultaneously, to unable to move in a few seconds. I just lay there atop him, absolutely spent.

I was disoriented, I was high, I was dizzy and I was pissed all at the same time. Remember when you were a kid, back before you tried drugs or liquor? Remember how you'd get outside on the grass and just spin around in circles until you couldn't stand up anymore, then just lay back and watch the sky going around in circles? Well that was how I felt. I had that same powerless disorientation and I just had to ride it out and wait for things to stop spinning.

I was also over the moon because the person I loved had done it to me. For weeks I'd been dreaming and fantasizing about Brandon. Most of the time, when we really want something, the reality of whatever it is doesn't live up to how we built it up in our minds. This was just the opposite. It was so much better than anything I'd imagined.

But at the same time I was really pissed because I thought I'd had sex enough to know what was going on. I'd imagined myself to be some jaded, experienced, woman and now I had to find out that I hadn't even scratched the surface. This was the first orgasm I'd ever had that hadn't been generated by my own fingers and it was way better than anything I'd ever given myself.

"Mona?" said Brandon quietly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just waiting for the room to stop spinning," I said.

"Well, you just take your time," he said. "But could you roll over, it's not exactly easy to breathe with someone's wet vagina clamped to your face."

"Sorry, Honey," I said. "I was just out of it."

"Oh don't worry about it," he said nicely. "Mona, uhm I'm not sure how to view what just happened. But we can talk about it in the morning. Do you think you could untie me?"

I just smiled. I'd been afraid of how he'd take it. I untied his legs first and he seemed calm. I untied his first hand and he circled his wrist. "Sorry Brandon, I used your silk ties because you never wear ties anyway and I didn't think they'd hurt you," I told him.

I released his last hand and he moved quicker than anything I'd ever seen. He grabbed my wrist so fast I was afraid. Then he threw me over his knee and started spanking my ass again. This time he was really wailing on me. His hand was making smacking sounds and my ass really stung. "Oh fuck," I said. "That feels really good." His smacks became more like little taps and every stroke lingered on my rounded hips. Then I noticed that his fingers were dragging between my ass cheeks and into my pussy with every stroke. I spread my ass and hoped that every little swat would go deeper inside of me.

Then he stopped. "That's what you get," he said. Then he threw me down on his bed and brought his hands down onto either side of my face. He lowered his face to mine and gave me the gentlest sweetest kiss I'd ever had. The second one was even better and by the third one, our tongues were inside of each other's mouths. Brandon leaned down and got on top of me but he never stopped kissing me. I spread my legs so we could both me more comfortable and I felt his dick rubbing against my opening. I don't know what I wanted more, for the kisses not to ever stop or that fat dick inside me.

Then he rolled over leaving me breathless and adjusted his pillows. I felt like I'd been ridden hard and put away wet.

"Brandon, God damn it. What are you doing?" I asked the darkness.

"I spanked your little ass because you deserved it, AGAIN," he said. "And I kissed you because I felt really bad about not kissing you goodnight earlier. Now go to sleep."

I moved and lay down next to him. My heart was beating so hard in my chest that I could barely stand it. I wrapped an arm around him and settled in with my head against his chest. It was all I could do to keep from crying, I was so happy. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something stupid.

"Goodnight Mona," he said.

The next morning was a Sunday. As the sun came streaming in the windows, Looked around the room and wondered where I was. Then I felt Brandon's arm around me and remembered what had happened the night before. It had all been real. The dinner, the dancing, the bondage and coerced oral sex festival had actually happened. Brandon spanking my ass again and that kiss had been real too. And then I spent the whole night in Brandon's bed. I felt so warm and loved that I could hardly stand it.

In the back of my mind though, I knew that it was temporary. All of my warning bells were going off and they were all saying the same thing. "Don't be a sucker, Mona. Just enjoy this while you can but don't get caught up in it. This isn't yours. Sooner or later that dried up old bitch will come back and take him away from you."

"Mona, I'm hungry," said Brandon.

"Hm, after all of the pussy you ate last night, I was sure you'd be full until lunch time," I smirked. Brandon smiled and reached over. I started tingling again because I thought he was going to kiss me again. Instead he pushed me out of the bed and into the cold morning air.

"Ouch, Brandon," I yelled. "My ass is still sore from you spanking me again. You do know that I'm a grown woman don't you? You can't go around spanking grown women."

"You can when they like it," he said. "And you liked it."

"So what?" I said. He just laughed.

After showers and breakfast Brandon clamped his hands over my eyes and dragged me out into his garage. It was not what I expected. Everything was amazingly clean and well organized. He had almost everything you'd expect to find in a repair shop. He had an engine hoist, a hydraulic lift and cabinets full of tools.

In the center of the room was the body and frame of a car.

"It's a sixty nine Boss 302," he said. "This is our new project. We're going to rebuild and restore it."

"Brandon, can I help too?" I asked. He just laughed.

"Mona, who did you think I meant when I said we?" he laughed.

"I thought you meant you and some friends," I gushed. And that was how we spent a lot of our time. We'd go out for our morning runs, come back in and have breakfast and spend the day shopping or just going places and doing things together. Brandon reminded me that once fall arrived we'd both be really busy with school and other activities.

"So," I said. "We'll still spend all of our time that we're not in school together."

"Mona, once school starts and you meet a bunch of guys your age, you'll forget all about me. You're an attractive young woman and I'm a broken down old fossil," he said.

"Brandon, you're not broken down or old. You're only forty for God's sake and I..." I paused and steadied myself. I'd almost done it again. "I like spending time with you," I finished.

After dinner we were both exhausted. Brandon took a shower and got into bed. I took a shower too. I was exhausted too. We'd pulled the engine out of the Boss that day and it was tiring, physical work but I was learning so much. And I just never got enough of being around Brandon. I loved him so much that I could hardly stand it. As I got out of the shower, I was too tired to bother putting on night clothes just to take them off. And I wanted to sleep with Brandon. I just opened the door and got into bed with him and closed my eyes.

Brandon rolled over and pulled me closer to him. We were both naked and things just started. I loved Brandon's chest. He has the perfect chest for a man. It's lean and muscular without getting to the point of being disgusting like those body builders. Those guys have breasts. They may as well be man-titties. Brandon's chest has just a smattering of hair on it too. Not enough that he looks like a fucking gorilla, but enough that you can tell he's not one of those metrosexual women.

It had been a little bit more than a week since the spanking incident. Both of us had thought about it a lot but we hadn't talked about it. And since then, we'd been more or less sleeping in the same bed together but we hadn't breached the wall yet. I rolled over against him and he put his arm around me. His left hand was on my tummy. I was spooned with my back to him and I felt him getting harder. His dick was nestled in the crevice of my ass cheeks and I wanted it.

I leaned my upper body forward a little bit. It didn't move my ass away from Brandon but it did move the hand that was on my tummy towards my breasts. After a few moments and a few subtle moves Brandon was cupping his hand on my left breast. My nipple expanded like a little dick and I started rubbing my ass along his big one.

Brandon's breathing changed and I could tell he knew what was going on too. But he didn't do anything. I sighed as I realized one of the facts of life. Do you know why nice guys rarely get any pussy? It's because they're so busy trying not to exploit anyone that they just don't go for it. I mean Brandon is there in his own bed with me rubbing my ass up and down his dick. It's as hard as an iron bar. He's rubbing my tits and he still doesn't understand that I want him at least as much as he wants me.

Now if he'd been an asshole, we'd be done by now, because as soon as I got into his bed, it would have been on.

I lifted my top leg a bit and grabbed Brandon' hard on. I rubbed it against my pussy and just positioned it near the opening.

"Brandon," I said. "Last time we started anything. I tied you up and put you in a position where you didn't have a choice. I think you liked it at least a little. And I loved it, but if we're going to do something right now, it has to be by your choice. I don't want to hear about age differences or one of us taking advantage of the other or relationships. All I want to know is one thing and I don't want you to answer me with words. If you don't want me, just roll over and go to sleep. If you do, stop bullshitting and just take me. All you have to do is push."

I don't know why but I expected Brandon to just slam his dick home and we'd start fucking. That was the way it had always been. That was how it was in the grocery store or the gas station or all the other times. The guy just lined it up and took what he wanted and I just let them do it until they stopped or we heard someone coming.

Brandon rolled over and got between my legs. He took my breasts in his hands and started squeezing them. He licked one and then the other until I thought they would burst. Then he licked his way down my tummy. I was already wet but Brandon had me gushing. His face was heading slowly towards my pussy when I stopped him. "I don't want that this time Brandon," I said softly.

He reversed direction and came up to my face. I kissed him the way he'd kissed me last time. For some reason, maybe it was because I was so wet or maybe I just lost track of what was happening while we kissed but I don't remember him lining up or anything. I just remember feeling that thick member of his gently easing its way inside me. I felt like he'd split me open but it didn't hurt the way it did sometimes with the others. I realized that it hadn't hurt because I wasn't dry inside. Brandon waited for a few minutes and then he pushed a little bit more of it inside me. Then he eased back and pushed the whole thing inside of me.

Honest to God, I thought I was going to choke on it. I could feel it all the way up into my stomach. Then when he started moving in and out, I'm not ashamed to admit that I came the first time when he'd only given me three or four strokes. But it wasn't just physical. It was everything else too. First, was the fact that Brandon wasn't just fucking me. He didn't pound me strictly to get off. We were still kissing and trying to suck each other's lungs out. But he also had his arms wrapped around me like he was protecting me. And with each stroke, he waited at the bottom until he felt my pussy move against him before he pulled out and started back in. It felt more like we were fucking each other. Or maybe it was like the parts of a huge engine synchronizing. When we started it out, we were running a little rough but as we continued the timing got better and we started winding up towards a huge blast of power.

After a little while and a few small orgasms, there would have been no way to stop either of us. I could tell that when I reached that climax, it was going to dwarf even what had happened last time. And I knew that this was what I needed to spend my life doing. It was like all of the organs inside me were trying to caress and mold themselves to Brandon's dick as it plunged into me and pulled back out. I wrapped my lags around him loosely and dug my fingers into his ass to pull him in deeper.

I was not even moaning at that point. My brain was incapable of processing anything. I was just making ragged noises. "Hah, hunh, unh, unh,unh,unh, oooooh," I said. And then it just started. If I thought that Brandon had shot a lot of sperm in my mouth, it was nowhere near what he let go of in my pussy. And I wanted every drop of it. As he spurted, it started me out. Again I felt like I was spinning and just watching the sky but this time it was worse. I was spinning and watching the sky, but I was falling at the same time. I was thrashing my arms and legs because I couldn't control them.




Love is for Suckers



And boy was I a sucker. I was the worst sucker ever. I was lying there wishing that it had been the right time of the month for me to get pregnant because I was sure that we'd have done it. Then while I was imagining what our kids would look like and what we'd call them, I realized that Brandon was talking to me.

"Mona, I'm really sorry," he was saying. "We've never even talked about birth control or anything like that. I've never been this irresponsible in my life."

He sat up and looked at me and I just slapped the shit out of him. He just looked shocked. "Mona what's wrong?" he asked. "I told you, that you didn't do anything wrong. It was my fault. I'm the older one. Although we're both adults, I'm the older one. And I know you told me that I had a choice but I just...I should have thought about it and asked a few questions but you're so..."

"I'm so what?" I asked, holding my hand in position for another slap.

"You're so beautiful, Mona. And I've wanted you for weeks but I didn't want to be just another guy who took advantage of you," he said. "I'm really sorry."

"Brandon, what we just did was the most beautiful thing that has EVER happened to me. You didn't do anything wrong either. I started it. And then, while I'm lying there feeling cared about and warm and protected for once, you started apologizing and made it seem like we'd done something wrong. You took something truly special and tried to turn it cheap."

"But Mona, you should be saving yourself for someone special, not wasting it on..."

"Brandon shut up," I snapped. "I did give it to someone special. I gave it to someone who also treats me like I'M special. Let me ask you something. Do you want me to study automotive technology in school?"

"If that's what you want," he said. "I just want you to be happy."

"Maybe I should study paleontology," I said.

"I didn't know you liked dinosaurs," he said.

"It's not the fucking dinosaurs, Brandon," I smiled. "I want to study the fossils. I'm interested in one in particular."

"Ha ha ha," he laughed.

Over the next few months, my life got better and better. There were so many happy times and only a few sad ones. My birthday was a happy time. I woke up that morning and Brandon told me I should go over to the school to re-register as a student since I'd missed a semester and would need to sign up as a regular student instead of a scholarship case. I was sleepy and a little bit sad because I wasn't sure he knew that it was my birthday.

"Brandon, do you know what today is?" I asked him.

"Yeah, it's the day we're supposed to go and pick out some nice rims for the Boss 302," he said. "We can't do that until you get your ass back here."

"You aren't coming with me?" I asked.

"Nope," he said. I smiled because I thought he was going to let me drive his car.

"So,?" I said. "You're letting me drive your car?"

"Of course not," he spat.

"Then how will I get there?" I asked.

"Mona, drive YOUR car," he said. "Why do you always want to drive mine?"

He felt my forehead as if he was trying to see if I had a fever or something. Then we went outside and I noticed that there were two Mustangs in the driveway. Brandon's black one and a red convertible.

"Happy birthday, Mona," he smiled.

A few weeks after that was the day that Brandon got his final divorce papers from the court. I'd been sure he was over her but it was as if the ghost of Miriam just haunted the house for about a week afterward. We didn't have sex for that whole week either.

I think my favorite memory of the early summer was the Sunday that we were supposed to have Cliff and Tracy over for a brunch on our deck. We got along great with Cliff and Tracy and had entertained them and their kids several times.

Anyway, we woke up late and had leaped out of bed. Brandon told me that he'd shower first so he could go out and get the grill ready. I told him that we should just take a shower together. It struck me as funny that we slept together every night and he had been inside of every orifice on my body, but he got squeamish about us taking a shower together.

"Brandon, we're taking a shower together and that's it," I said.

"But Mona," he said.

"But Mona nothing ,"I said. "You stuck that huge thing up my ass last night and now you're worried about me seeing it when it's not dark? How many times have I had that thing in my mouth or my pussy? But you don't want me to see it?"

Ten minutes later we went out on our deck to wait for Cliff and Tracy. They stared at us and tried to keep from laughing. I looked at Tracy and she just burst out in gales of laughter.

"You told him didn't you?" she said.

"I told him what?" I asked.

"Uhm we heard your little pre-shower rant, Mona, the windows are open. I think everyone in the neighborhood knows where Brandon stuck his huge thing last night." I ran into the house and it took a while before I went back outside.

Everything was going well, until Tracy with the biggest smile on her face tapped me on my shoulder and asked, "Did it hurt, Mona?"

"Did what hurt?" I asked.

"When Brandon stuck his huge thing up your...?" I immediately ran back into the house as Tracy, Cliff and even Brandon laughed.

As summer wound down, I was happy. I had a nice place to live and had really begun to think of it as home. I had Brandon and we had friends. I loved my car and we were almost done with the Boss. I had even started customizing my own Mustang. The cool thing was buying parts and installing them and then showing Brandon what I'd done.

For the first time in my life, I was happy. Tracy had just left to go home when it happened. She and I had been having one of our really stupid talks.

I'd told her that my life was ruled by songs from the eighties. She asked me what I was talking about. I told her that Brandon had really Wang Chunged me the night before.

She laughed and told me that she loved that song. "Everybody have fun tonight," she sang.

"So you and Brandon had a good time?" she asked.

"Wrong song," I said.

"I didn't know that they had any others," she said. "What song?"

"They have another song called New God," I said. I got up and danced and started singing, "You'd better start praying to a new new God." She looked at me funny.

"Do you have a new God?" she asked.

"Yep," I laughed. "I worship Brandon's tongue and his huge thing." She laughed too.

I loved hanging out with Tracy. Brandon had gone to the college to start getting his lab and his new syllabus together because in a few weeks we'd both be starting back. After Tracy left, I started dinner and was really shocked when someone rang my doorbell.

I went to the door and opened it. I immediately went into shock. She walked right past me and into the house.

"Thanks whoever you are," she said. "For some reason, my key isn't working. Oh you're making Brandon's dinner. Well you can stop. As soon as he gets back we'll probably go out to celebrate me being back. "

I had no idea what to say, but it was my worst nightmare come true. "As a matter of fact we probably won't need you anymore," she said. "I'm going to concentrate on being the best wife I can be from now on. My little adventure made me realize how stupid I've been. You wouldn't believe some of the things that happened to me."

I was speechless. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to cry but I knew better. I'd known from the start. Just like with my dad, this was Brandon's dream come true. This bitch would only hurt him again but there was nothing I could do about it. I loved him and I wanted him to be happy. And I knew how much he loved her.

"I'll go upstairs and pack," I said.

"You do that," she smirked. "So Brandon let you live in my house, huh? Well I guess that makes us kind of even. This will be even better than I thought. You go ahead and pack, sweetie."

As I went up the stairs, the doorbell rang again. From upstairs while I packed, I heard her letting her parents in. Then I heard them talking about how good it was to have her home so they could all be together again.

It must have been about ten minutes later that Brandon came home. As soon as he walked in the door, things got quiet. Her parents seemed to sense that they needed to leave.

I heard her talking to Brandon. He hadn't said a word. I figured that he was so happy she was back that he was in shock. I decided that I would be a grown up about the situation. It was going to be difficult, so I'd make it easy on him. I just hoped that he'd honor his promise to support me for a year of school.

I went downstairs to see him and let him know that I understood. "What's taking you so long?" she asked. I hated her tone but what I hated more was the look on Brandon's face. He looked like one of those little playground bullies that just goes along with everything his friends say. He didn't stop her from talking to me like that or tell her to change her tone or be nicer to me at all.

It was like he knew which side he was on and anything that bitch wanted to do with me was fine as long as they were back together again. That hurt me even more.

"I just wanted to get all of my stuff so I don't have to come back and bother you," I said.

"Couldn't you do that some other time?" asked Miriam. "Tonight is a special night."

"Yes," agreed Brandon, driving yet another spike in my heart. "Tonight is a very special night for me. Maybe the most important night in a long time. Mona, just call a cab. Tonight is going to be very romantic. It's the beginning of the rest of my life. I have love in my heart and it's not just some silly thing I've been playing with. This is the real thing."

A tear rolled down my cheek and he didn't seem t notice it. He just shook his head. Maybe he did notice it and it just didn't matter to him.

"But what about my car?" I asked on the verge of tears.

"It belongs here, Mona," he said. "Now call the cab."

I dialed the number and called the taxi service. Since they were only a few blocks away the man told me they'd have someone out in just a few minutes. I started back up the stairs. And Brandon stopped me.

"That's smart, Honey" said Miriam. "You never leave the help alone. They may steal from you."

"If she left here without me knowing she would be stealing," said Brandon.

"Well you don't have to worry about it honey," said Miriam. "I fired her ass."

"You didn't hire her, Miri," said Brandon. "I have to do it." He looked at me and said, "Mona, you no longer have a job here." I tried to be strong. But I broke down then. Brandon wiped my tears and told me it would be over in a few minutes and it would be worth it.

"You're too nice to them, Honey," said Miriam. "That was one of our biggest problems. You need to spend more of your time on me."

We heard a horn sounding from outside. Brandon opened the door and took my hand and led me outside. He stood on the porch still holding my hand. Miriam came outside too.

"Alrighty then. Thanks for stopping by. Hit the bricks bitch," snapped Brandon. "And don't cha come back no more."

I couldn't believe he'd said that to me.

Miriam was fighting to hold in her laughter. I started to walk towards the cab, but Brandon wouldn't let go of my hand. "Brandon," I said quietly. "I can't leave if you won't let my hand go."

"Mona, you're not leaving," he said. "She is."

"What?" screamed Miriam.

"Look you dried up old cunt," snapped Brandon. "I meant every word I fucking said."

"Tonight is going to be a very special night I hope," he said. "Because it really is the first night of the rest of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with someone that I love and who loves me. Someone who'd never hurt me and is always there for me. Someone who knows how to give and not just take. Someone named Mona."

"Mona, for months I've realized that I love you far more than I ever loved Miriam, but I've just been waiting for that last shoe to drop to end that part of my life. It's over Miri. Hit the bricks," he said.

"But you fired her," wailed Miriam.

"Yep, I did," said Brandon. "I told her she no longer has a job here. Because I don't want it to be a job. This is her home too. I want for us to live here together for as long as she wants."

"Oh Miri, these are yours," said Brandon. He handed her a stack of papers.

"Divorced," she wailed. "We can't be divorced. I don't want a divorce."

"I didn't want a wife who walked out on me with another man either," said Brandon. "But in retrospect it was the best fucking day of my life. If you look through the stack you'll find a restraining order there too. If you don't get your boney ass off of our porch I'll have you arrested. You'd better hurry up it looks like your cab driver got tired of waiting."

As Brandon pulled me back into the house we watched as Miriam tried to run down the street screaming, "Wait," at the disappearing Taxi.

Brandon closed the door behind us and took me into his arms. Relief poured over me and I couldn't help it, I started crying. "I thought..." I began.

"Shhh," he said kissing me.

"But you..." he kissed me again.

"Do you know that I..." Another kiss and he nodded his head.

"Then why did you...?" I asked.

"Mona, everything I said was true," he said. "It was just directed at her not you. And Honey, a big part of this is really your fault." I opened my eyes and stepped back. Some of my confidence was coming back.

"How was this my fault?" I snapped.

"Well..." he said. "You let her into the house. You actually listened to that garbage she was spewing. And you really believed on some level that I'd take her back after what she did to me."

"But you love her," I said.

"No Mona," he said smiling. "I LOVED her; LOVED that's past tense. I LOVE you. That's the present."

That was when the tears started up again. I knew I needed to come up with something snappy to say, though my heart was overflowing with emotion. "That had better be the future too, buster," I said. Then I threw in, "For the record, I love you too, Brandon. And I have for a long time."

"I know, Honey," he said. "I've known for a long time. At first I wasn't ready for it. I was still dealing with the hurt and pain of Miriam's crap. But it just wrapped itself around me and supported me. And finally it just took all of the pieces of my broken heart and put them back together."

"You didn't know crap," I smirked.

"Oh, Mona," he sighed. "What about months ago; the first time when you made me lick your pussy? You said, "I love...then there was this big pause and you caught yourself then threw in something about the way that what I was doing felt. I knew even then."

I just hugged him then and he hugged me right back. "Brandon, don't ever let me go," I said.

A few moments later the phone rang. It was Miriam's parents. They wanted to talk about the whole situation. Brandon agreed. I was shocked.

"Mona, what do you do to a car with a dull finish?" he asked.

"Polish it," I said.

"Well, my life with Miriam had a dull finish. How do we put the polish on?" he asked.

"You rub it in," I said, still not understanding.

"Exactly," he smirked. "My life will be so much better with you, Mona. That bitch really hurt me but now I'm happier than I've ever been. So we're going to rub it in her face."

He'd agreed to meet at our house for dinner the next evening. When we woke the next morning we were still exhausted because Brandon wanted to play a third of a round of golf. A full round of golf is eighteen holes. A third of a round is six holes so Brandon used all three of mine, twice. I was still tingling all over. After our run and breakfast, we went out to the garage to work on the Boss for a while. I wanted Brandon to help me install a CDC aggressive chin spoiler on my Mustang. Brandon had the classic chin spoiler and I wanted my car to be different from his. Normally Brandon does what I want but this morning he insisted that we work on the Boss, which surprised me. I was thinking that maybe since he knew I was his, he was trying to prove who was in charge of our relationship. Tracy had told me to always let the guy think he's the Boss. It makes it easier to get what you want from them.

"Mona, line up the carb and put it on, but don't bolt it down yet," he said. He was smiling as he told me to do that.

"You like ordering me around don't you Mister?" I said smiling. He came over and swatted me on my ass.

"You'd better stop doing that," I said playfully.

"You love it," he said. "Now line up that carburetor."

I was bent over the engine with Brandon looking at my ass. He came around to the other side and was, I thought, staring down my shirt at my tits. My God, he sees them every night, I thought. But Brandon was actually looking at something else. I couldn't get the carb to line up correctly.

"Brandon, it won't go in," I said in frustration.

"Why?" he asked smiling.

I was getting pissed because he was no help at all. This wasn't the way we usually worked. We usually did everything together.

"Maybe there's something blocking it from going in," I spat.

"Finally using your brain," he spat back. I rested the carburetor on a table near the car and reached for the opening in the manifold that it went into. "There is something in here," I said.

"Well, pull it out," he said. I felt around inside. I thought that maybe it was a washer or something.

"What is it?" asked Brandon, with a big smirk on his face. I was in shock. It was a gold engagement ring with a big pretty diamond on it.

"Braaaaanndooooon!" I shrieked. My mind wouldn't form thoughts. I just kept staring at the ring and getting oil from my greasy fingers all over it.

"Okay, I'll take it back," he said.

"Noooooooo!" I screamed.

"Well if that's your answer, I'll definitely take it back," he said.

"Whyyyyyyyy?" I asked.

"Well, I gave you the ring," he said calmly. "That meant that I was asking you to marry me. But instead of saying yes or no you just yelled my name at me. Then you yelled no. Maybe I'll find someone who does want to marry me."

"I'm her you idiot," I said. "You can't just drop something like that on a girl out of the blue. Can we have a do over?"

"I guess," he said dubiously. "How about next Thursday?"

"How about now," I smirked.

"Mona, will you marry me?" he asked.

"Yes! Brandon," I said.

I rushed over to show Tracy my ring.

Four hours later, Brandon and I were finally installing my chin spoiler. Well he was reading me the instructions and making me do all of the work. It wasn't very hard to do. I had to drill a couple of holes and make some measurements to assure the positioning was good. Most of the installation was done with 3M double sided automotive tape.

Just as I was getting ready to drill the first hole, Miriam and her parents drove up.

We all went out onto the deck and Brandon lit the grill. As I brought out the meat Miriam noticed my ring.

Her mother started in first. "Brandon, that way you treated Miriam wasn't very nice. I think that before we even start talking you owe her an apology. She's your wife for God's sake."

"So, was it nice for her to just wait for me to come home and hit me over the head with the fact that she was screwing some other guy while we were still married and then just leave with him?" asked Brandon.

"Do you know the last thing she told me?" he asked.

"But Brandon, I was going through some things," said Miriam. "I didn't appreciate what we have."

"Had," said Brandon.

"We've contacted our lawyer," said Miriam's father.

"There's no need," said Brandon. "There's nothing he can do."

"Well, we're looking for some sort of alimony or even counseling and reconciliation," he said.

"If we were just starting the divorce today, you might have a case," said Brandon. "But I filed for divorce two days after Miriam left. I didn't file on the infidelity. I filed for abandonment. Our divorce was final two months ago. If Miriam wanted to contest the divorce, she had to do it before the final court decree. There's really nothing you can do about it now."




Love is for Suckers



"But Brandon," whined Miriam. "I love you."

Brandon and I just looked at each other and rolled our eyes.

"I made a mistake Honey," said Miriam. "Can't we just start again?"

"Nope," said Brandon. "I've moved on. And I'm happy now."

"But shouldn't she get something out of this?" asked Miriam's mother. "That guy she left you for was a con man. He got her down south and had her smuggling things into and out of airports. He figured that she looked old and harmless so no one would suspect her. After she got caught the first time, he pimped her out. She had to escape and make her way home by hitching rides whenever she could. All she wanted to do was to get back to you Brandon. Can't you give her something for all of the years the two of you were married?"

"Oh alright," said Brandon. He took a key out of his pocket and handed it to Miriam.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's the key to the storage locker where all of your stuff is stored," said Brandon. "The rent on it is due on the thirtieth."

"I meant something monetary," said Miriam's mother. "She got taken advantage of. Now she's lost everything."

Brandon reached into his pocket again and handed Miriam some change. She threw the coins down on the floor and started crying. "But Brandon we were married for almost twenty years, don't I get a second chance. You love me," she screamed.

"Love is for suckers," said Brandon.

As Miriam and her parents got ready to leave, her dad looked at us and asked, "What about you two. You're getting married aren't you? If love is for suckers why are you...?"

"We're suckers," I said kissing Brandon. "We're just great big suckers."

That was about a year and a half ago, so as you can see that bastard Brandon didn't waste much time before getting me knocked up. We were lucky to even have time to plan the wedding. I went to see the doctor when we got home from our honeymoon and found out that I was pregnant. Shit, I was probably pregnant, but not showing while I was wearing my wedding dress. None of that matters. I love Brandon so much it hurts. But he's still a bastard. He planned this baby with me and now I have to go through this alone. We practiced everything. How we'd get to the hospital, what we'd bring, the whole none yards.

But when it actually happened, he freaked out. We were visiting my doctor in this hospital this morning to find out why our little bundle of sunshine was taking her time coming out since my due date was three days ago, when my water broke. Brandon took one look at me and passed out. They had to get two gurneys, one for me and the other for him. I'm never going to let him live this one down.

The end.