2 comments/ 6773 views/ 0 favorites What Not To Do By: enriquespappa 2002 was a very bad year for me. I had moved up to upstate New York from Florida to be closer to an old flame from my high school days, some 20 years back. It turned out that she thought I had changed and I knew for sure she had too. One day it became to much so I stopped by the drug store on the way home from work and picked up an item that I needed. I sat down and wrote a long letter to my girlfriend, letting her know how hurt she had made me and how sorry I was for not being able to please her. Then I sat down and began taking a bottle of pills, washing them down with swigs of soda. When I was finished I lay down to go to sleep and reverently hoped I'd never wake up. The spring of 1981 marked the beginning of my senior year of high school. I had planned my classes so I could take it easy this year and I looked forward to getting things over with. My homeroom was in the high school ROTC classroom, a favorite hangout of mine anyway. I was assigned a seat alphabetically and it turned out that a young woman named Michelle was to sit in front of me. She was pretty from what I could see but either she was shy or she was stand-offish and didn't say much to me. I've always been shy myself but something made me be bold so I began picking on her to get her to talk to me. I began hiding her purse until she noticed it was gone sometimes I would grab her books instead. Maybe it was kind of grade school of me but it worked. We formed a pretty close friendship that year and paved the way for what happened after we graduated. Our first date didn't happen until after we graduated and it was to happen on a Sunday. You see, our first date was to go to church together. I had to keep it quiet because while I was raised in a church going family, we were catholic and she was baptist. My mom had even been a nun for several years before getting out, meeting my dad at some church social and then marrying him. To her you were either catholic and going to Heaven or you were something else and going to hell, so I knew that mom would be the least happiest with me when word got out that I was changing my religion. Dad was more easy going on me. He accepted my decision to change religions and even pointed out that at least I was going to church regularly and I seemed more happy that I had been before my conversion. Mom on the other hand treated me like I had turned my back on the family and treated me as such. Michelle and I lived with our parents but saw each other every day. I'd love to tell you that everything was happy-go-lucky but I began noticing things. I lost my job one day because the owner of the family restaurant died. I knew I'd be able to find another job soon but Michelle decided that we should break up until I did. I don't know if this was to try to encourage me to hurry up the process or if she was just wanting someone who could buy her stuff and take her places but it sure hurt. Sometimes there seemed no logical reasons as to why she wanted to break up. This had happened several times but we always seemed to get back together so I was stunned to find out that she was getting married to someone else. I tried to talk her out of it but I had no luck so I just walked away. Her parents went to the same church I had been baptized in. they had been supportive of our relationship but cold do nothing to help me. After Michelle got married we would chat some and sometimes they would let me know how she was doing. She seemed happy with her new life so I was shocked to find out that her marriage was over and she was back home, a total of 6 months. It turned out that her hubby, a jerk named Andy had mistreated her in many ways and made her life a living hell. Not only that but when he found out that she was pregnant he decided that she was to go to an unlicensed mid-wife so the baby could be born without a social security number. It also turned out that he had been fooling around on her with both women and men. I went to see her as soon as I could, after she had moved back home. I let her talk and didn't ask many questions. I tried to be there for her without being pushy, overbearing or even giving her any I-told-you-so feelings. Vanessa was born in 1986 and I was there when mother and daughter came home. I began filling in as dad again without being pushy. If a diaper needed changing I never ran the other way. I enjoyed the feeling of holding Vanessa while giving her a bottle. Michelle and I began talking about a new life together. One of the things I was sure of was that I could not afford to feed, house and care for a families medical needs with the job I had so I signed up for the Air Force. I didn't mind leaving my family at home since they didn't seem to give a damn about me one way or another. All I had was Michelle, Vanessa and Michelle's family and I was happy. To bad fate wouldn't keep me that way. 1990 saw a failed attempt to get married, orders to South Korea and a final break up with Michelle. One that would last for 11 years. What kept me alive during that year I have no idea. For the next 10 years I tried to build a new life. Two marriages that ended in divorce added to my depression. It really didn't help that I'd lost my dad in 1997, two days before Christmas. I was far from merry that year. The only good thing during those 10 years was that I went back to school and got a BS degree in Computer Programming. In 2001 I got a wild idea and looked up Michelle's parents phone number and called to see how everyone was doing. To my amazement and delight Michelle was home from work, unmarried and had been missing me for as long as I had been missing her. We began talking over the phone often and even planned for me to come up for a visit that Christmas. Michelle even found out that the house she had grown up in was for sale so she stopped by to get the information so I could call the realtor. Fate intervened one more time after Thanksgiving that year. Michelle's dad died while walking from the house to the shed. The family came from everywhere to burry him and stayed for most of December but had to get back to their own lives before Christmas. I came up and stayed at the house through New Years to help out as much as I could. Michelle and her mom seemed happy to see me but by this time I was a total stranger to Vanessa. I tried to get to know her again when I moved up to New in 2002 but things were already starting to go wrong for her mom and I. For almost 4 years I was a dad and because of fate I'd lost her and would never get her back. Michelle's mom started treating me like an intruder instead of a welcome guest. She and Michelle would argue about me almost nightly I was told. Finally Michelle was given an ultimatum, choose to live at home with the family or choose to marry me and lose her family. I lost. To this day though, I am not really sure how much of what I was being told by Michelle was true or not. More later on that. I was starting to believe that I was some sort of monster. I blamed myself for losing my family and now I was losing the only people I had ever really cared for. Even the pastor of the church that Michelle and her family attended got into the act, letting me know that the family would probably feel better if I'd just go away, preferably to another state. Unfortunately for me, I thought I had no where to go and no one else to turn to. All was lost and I wanted out of my misery. So here I was trying to kill myself with pills. I drifted off to sleep but wound up waking up an hour later. Of all the reactions I was expecting from taking the pills I took, waking up wasn't one of them. Another reaction was the strong urge to vomit. After emptying some of my stomach into the toilet I went back into the bedroom. I had a huge choice to make but since I had woken up I kind of thought that maybe God wasn't ready for me yet so I called 911. It seemed like I had no sooner hung up the phone when a police officer knocked on my door. I opened it up and was just starting to answer his questions when the ambulance pulled up. It turned out that both responding units happened to be in the neighborhood goofing off. I brought the pill bottle out with me and handed it to the paramedic and let them know that I had taken the whole bottle, a total of 500 pills. They got me into the ambulance and onto the stretcher but I wasn't out of danger yet. In fact I was very near death it turned out. Even though I had called 911 and voluntarily given myself up for treatment, I still wouldn't have minded if I hadn't survived. I was still feeling like everything was all my fault but when one of the paramedics asked me if there was someone they should call I clammed up. It is a coin toss whether I should have had them call Michelle or not. There was a 75% chance she would have come to the hospital but I wanted to punish myself at the time, not her. Little did I know at the time but Michelle deserved a lot of punishment and has not paid her debt to date. I don't remember everything that happened after I got to the hospital but I do know that it wasn't pretty. I was stripped and had a hospital gown thrown on me and then the head nurse came over with the charcoal and I was asked if I would drink the mixture or would they have to do things the hard way. I really tried but I just could not swallow the lovely tasting drink. Sure the whole purpose of the charcoal was to empty my stomach of the medications still present, but I just couldn't drink it down so a nasal tube was run up my nose and down into my stomach. I was hooked up to the heart monitor and everyone got to work. The charcoal made me vomit ugly black stuff. I am like most people who hate to vomit but I had no way of controlling myself since I was in and out. I was out when they did the catheter up my dick, I guess I was lucky there. I remember being semi-lucid when I vomited. I do remember saying "I'm sorry." a few times but then I passed out. I woke up later that day in a private room of the hospital with a nurse sitting outside my door. I asked for and got a phone so I could try to call the pastor and have him call Michelle. I didn't know it for a few days, but after lecturing me about trying to kill myself he hung up the phone and never called anyone. I was watched the rest of the day in the room, visited by a social worker who wanted to know what had caused my attempted suicide and poked for blood once an hour, other than that I slept. The next day I was transferred into the mental ward of the hospital, assigned a room and a psychiatrist and went back to bed. For three days after arriving at the hospital, all I could say was that I was functioning. I ate, attended counseling sessions and I slept. On the forth day I woke up at sunrise and really noticed what it looked like and how I felt. For the first time since I had tried to kill myself, I was actually glad to be alive. I showered and dressed then stepped out to walk the halls. On my first round the social worker joined me and let me know that Michelle was going to come in later that day to see me and to talk with my councilor and I about what happened. I thought it would be good to see her and I thought that maybe we could figure out what the problem was and fix it. I was wrong. When Michelle came in and sat in the room, she looked apprehensive. She began telling me how she was going to change and that she would be able to spend more time with me. At least once a week I would see her and so on and so forth. When asked about why we were having all of our problems, Michelle would insist that it was all of her mom's fault. Not once did she even hint that she had been lying to me and worst of all, her family as well. After I was discharged from the hospital, Michelle tried to see me but those visits were few and far between. Not once was I allowed to go to her home or even call there to talk to her. Michelle went so far as to get a cheap cell phone, one of those pay as you go phones and set up a schedule so I could call her and still keep her family in the dark. Naturally none of these things lasted very long. The cell phone was disconnected and her older brother was told that I was bothering her so he came by and gave me an ultimatum, leave Michelle alone or he'd kick my ass. Luckily, by this time I was seeing a councilor and psychiatrist for my depression. I was tried on several medications to try to help stabilize my feelings. I also made new friends who helped me see once and for all what a lying bitch Michelle really was. I had put her up on a pedestal and gave her every excuse for treating me the way she did. I blamed myself for not being worthy of her love and in doing so I nearly killed myself. No one should try what I did. There can be many reasons for feeling as down as you might feel but remember, you are never really alone. There are scores of people who will gladly be there to help you through difficult times. Even though I had family still living they had turned their backs on my. I thought they would never talk to me but when I took the time to contact them and explain what I had been through, my brother began writing me. With his help and others around me I was even able to come off the anti-depressant meds and am living a perfectly normal and happy life. As for Michelle, I guess she just never grew up and won't be able to leave her mom's side until the day she dies. I sometimes wonder if Michelle thinks she will be able to look me up then and try to go back to normal but she has another think coming. What Not to Wear I felt like a damn chauffeur. That's the fate of a mom with a 13-year-old daughter, and a very social one at that. After dropping Rachael off at her best friend's house for a sleepover, I decided to drop into the local Subway for a six-inch sub. For a second I considered the convenience of the drive-through at Burger King – but a tuna sub was just too tempting. It meant that I would have to get out of the car at a time when I wasn't exactly presentable. Having worked in the garden half the day, I took a long hot shower and then slipped into my bedclothes ... a lime camisole and some gray athletic shorts. OK, not that it looked like pajamas. Perhaps the attire was a sort of a last ditch effort on my part to feel attractive. At 45, the body was showing signs of aging. But the shorts showed off the long, slender legs on my tall frame. And the tight cami made my chest appear quite appealing. Admittedly, I had some respectable cleavage. The camisole claimed to have a built in bra; in reality it was just another piece of fabric in the bra area. Clearly this wasn't the kind of clothing I would wear around town, but it made me feel attractive in the safety of my home. I could rationalize slipping into Subway for a few minutes, particularly when evening was starting to descend. When I arrived at the parking lot, I noticed that Subway was practically vacant. The only customers in the store were three high school girls, huddled up in a booth. The guy behind the counter also appeared to be about the same age; he appeared a bit bookish. I could handle that. Without a line, I immediately began to place my order. Preoccupied, I neglected to notice that the door had been opened and that there was another customer behind me. I was taken off-guard completely when a familiar voice behind me asked, "Harris?" I knew that voice very well. Turning around and smiling shyly, I replied, "Donovan ... how are you?" "Harris" ... "Donovan" ... we tended to use each other's last names more often than not. That was not to imply that our relationship was the slightest bit formal. To the contrary, actually. Use of the last names was a sign of affection. Tom Donovan and I are both accountants working for the same property management company, but in different parts of town. I actually don't remember much about our first meeting. In a sea of property managers at a cocktail party, I was happy to meet another bean counter. I remember quizzing him on depreciation, of all things. I mentioned that I had designed a spreadsheet that might be helpful. He seemed interested, so we exchanged business cards. It's not like there was an instant attraction; had it not been for the spreadsheet we would likely have forgotten about each other. The following Monday I emailed him. He politely thanked me for the attachment. A few weeks later, I received an email from Tom, this time an audit question. After a few exchanges on the topic, we started to discuss our personal lives. Slowly, a friendship emerged. Rarely does a day go by these days when we don't exchange an email or chat on the phone. We tend to get off topic ... sometimes exchanging emails over a period of several hours. We've learned to trust each other with many confidences. Since the cocktail party we'd met perhaps a half-dozen times, all under the name of business. Our relationship was perhaps the most intimate I've had in my life, and yet it was strictly platonic. Tom and I are both in committed relationships, although neither of us happy with our current arrangement. I'm married to man who has become focused – no, "obsessed" – with his career. It's not that I don't appreciate our 4,200 square foot house and the late model cars. What Mitchell doesn't understand is that I would live in a shack if only he would talk to me like he did when we were first married. But his values have changed. Mitchell says he'll give me my walking papers, and I thought about it. But until Rachael is out of high school, I think it would be best to stay together and pretend to have a normal family life. As for Tom, he had been dating a girl who he claimed was largely "vacant"; he claimed they were on the verge of breaking up. Tom is quite a bit younger that I am. OK, he's 8 years, 4 months, and 6 days younger. He's 36 years old. Christ, what am I thinking? And yet, I found myself inexplicably drawn to him. He's charming, but in a way that's more sincere than smarmy. Tom always seems to have a positive outlook – and keeps me laughing. The more I got to know Tom on the inside, the more I grew to appreciate the Tom on the outside. At first I thought he was a bit overweight, but now I see a man who's husky, but in a muscular way. And initially I overlooked his stunning sapphire eyes that light up mischievously when he smiles. And this may sound silly, but I like the way his forehead furrows when he's deep in thought. And now, I happened to run into Tom in a non-work environment ... not dressed up in formal wear at the country club restaurant, as I had fantasized, but rather in a brightly lit sub shop, looking like a teenager wannabe. "Dressed a bit casually?" Tom commented, checking me out. "If I knew I'd be bumping into you, I would have worn goth," I joked. "It's a good thing you don't have a camera. These sandals alone could get me nominated for "What Not to Wear." Tom reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. "Who says I don't have a camera?" he said with a smile. He opened the phone and showed me the lens of a camera. "Donovan ... you wouldn't dare!" From across the counter, the attendant asked, "What would you like on your tuna sub, ma'am?" A teenage girl emerged from the back and started assisting Tom. Once I made it to the cash register, Tom implored, "Wait up for me, will ya?" I smiled shyly and waited for him off to the side. "If you have a few minutes," Tom continued, "why don't we eat together?" It didn't take much to talk me into that. Despite my cool exterior, I seize every opportunity to chat with Tom. "Sure," I replied, "What's say we sit at those picnic tables outside?" Tom agreed, much to my relief. Although I wasn't entirely disappointed that Tom got to see me dressed "unprofessionally," I would feel better in a darker area, where the signs of my aging body might not be as evident. As it turns out, the light by the picnic tables was burnt out. The last bit of sunlight was fading fast, but our eyes quickly acclimated. I found myself eating very slowly, only to make our time linger. At one point I had noticed the stars appearing in the night sky. "Look, Orion's belt", I said, pointing practically overhead. My eyes remained fixed on the sky for a few seconds, trying to make out other constellations. When I looked back, I had noticed that Tom's eyes were planted firmly on my chest. When he realized that I was looking in his direction, he quickly focused on my face and smiled. I do believe that I caught the gentleman leering at me, I thought to myself. Perhaps, I considered, Mr. Donovan was secretly attracted to me – as I was to him. Suddenly, I felt a tingling sensation in my crotch. "I should be getting back," I blurted out, a bit afraid of what I was feeling. "What about the pictures?" Tom asked with a sly smile. I was quite perplexed until he pulled out his cell phone. "You didn't ..." I stammered. After a few clicks, Tom pointed the display at me. "Not my sandals! Tom, you are so evil," I protested with a smile. I realized that Tom had taken the pictures of me while our sandwiches were being built. Tom continued, "Well look at THIS shot. Debbie, you've been hiding away some fine-looking ta-tas." He flashed the phone towards me, and there, for all to see, was the scooping neckline on my cami exposing the tops of those 34Ds. My nipples, while not exposed, were visibly extended. "Tom, seriously, please delete that," I implored. "Whoa! And take a look at those long legs," he continued. I snapped his cell shut and tried to take it from him, but Tom clearly had control of the phone. I stood up, reached over, grabbed his wrists and edged closer to Tom, almost whispering. "Please ..." "Are you begging, Debbie?" For perhaps the first time, I felt uncomfortable around Tom. Normally I would counter with a witty remark, but the words weren't coming to me. In a voice as quiet as mine, Tom replied, "OK. I'll delete the pictures, but there's something that I want in return." I let go of Tom's wrists, relieved yet perplexed. I backed up, but Tom moved right back into my space. Still in hushed tones Tom continued, "I'd like a kiss." His request took me by surprise. Still tongue tied, I stepped back and looked away. I felt my face grow red. Tom continued, "Debbie, c'mon. All these months ... the emails, the phone calls. I'd say that was some serious flirtation going on between us." He paused and continued, "Haven't you ever wondered if there might be chemistry?" There was another awkward silence as Tom waited for a reply that didn't come. I looked back into his face. His blue eyes seemed to be pleading. It's funny how I had been waiting for this moment to arrive ... this admission of attraction. And yet the words were escaping me. Shaking a bit, I leaned in towards Tom and ever so gently pressed my lips against his, just barely touching him. His mouth opened slightly, and then he started tenderly biting on my lower lip, pulling it towards him. Immediately, I was aroused. Very aroused ... hadn't felt that way in years. I pulled back from Tom. In sincere awe, I said, "Wow. Goosebumps," showing him my bare arms. Tom smiled sweetly and wrapped his arms around my waist. "I can't say that I have goosebumps," he admitted, "But you have made an impression." As he pulled me close, I felt the hardness in his pants. Tom pressed his lips against mine again, once again very tenderly ... as if a feather was touching me. His hands slowly moved toward my chest. Through the fabric, he cupped his hands over my breast. My nipples snapped to attention. He fingered them for a minute and then gave them a gentle squeeze. Any inhibitions that existed a minute earlier were gone. I let out a little gasp, which seemed to please him. Tom used his pursed lips to tug at my ear lobe. "Mmmm," I moaned. He had honed in on the area of my body that was easiest aroused. He continued to pull at my ears with his lips; as he did, I could hear my breathing getting faster. I was amazed that he seemed to know, instinctively, what I needed. My hands moved down to his khakis. I pressed my palm against his crotch, pleased that I could make him rock hard. "Nice," I murmured. I unzipped his fly and my hands entered his pants. I loved the smooth touch of his cock. I felt myself getting wet, desperately wanting that snake inside me. As much as I was enjoying the way he was kissing my ear, I broke away after a minute. I lowered myself and placed his cock inside my mouth. Both of my hands worked the lower part of his dick. Suddenly, I wasn't the only one breathing heavily. His cock grew bigger, and the throbbing became intense. I pulled out for second, and then the tip of my tongue flicked the head of his hard shaft. Tom squirmed, and I tasted a bit of his pre-cum. I placed my mouth over the upper third of his cock and started sucking with vigor. Tom started moaning, touching my hair and pulling my head towards him. It then occurred to me ... we were outside, for Christ's sake. Sure, we were alone now. But if a car pulled up we would be caught. What if it was someone I knew? I considered. By nature I'm a very modest person. For a split second I considered backing off, but I couldn't. I went down deeper on Tom, feeling his pulsing cock push up against the back of my throat. My hands grabbed his balls and I lightly tugged them in a downward motion. Coming up for a breath, I admitted, "Donovan ... I want you so bad. Fuck me." As the words escaped my mouth, I was certain that I had overstepped. This was a totally different Debbie than he knew. Actually, a different Debbie than I knew. Was that voice mine? I wondered. A smile spread on his face slowly. He pushed me back against the table. With one hand, he pulled my stretchy shorts to one side. With the other hand he placed his hard cock on my pussy. He thrust his hips towards me, not entering, but just teasing. Then he wrapped his arms around me tightly. I wanted him so much. I lifted my toes, his shaft sliding on the wetness of my labia. Slowly, I lowered myself a bit, effectively stroking his member with my pussy. I reached down and held his hard cock in my hand. Feeling my juices on his cock, the strokes continued with my hand. I positioned his head over my vagina, and slowly leaned into him. I immediately started moaning. Tom suddenly thrust his hips at me, going in deeper. I gasped with each thrust. As Tom's member throbbed in me, my rapid breathing quickly turned into moans. I hadn't ever recalled being aroused so quickly. "Oh my God, Tom, I'm starting to cum already." I felt as if I couldn't control myself ... developed that tell-tale rhythmic throb, gasped for air as a tingling sensation shot out from my pussy – seeming to extend to my extremities. Even without my verbal cue, Tom knew what was happening. I felt him stiffen, felt the warmth of his load being hot shot deep within me. Tom let out an audible moan himself. Tom didn't pull himself out right away. He pressed his torso against mine and kissed me again. I slipped my tongue in his mouth quickly, and then kissed the outside of his mouth. In silence, his fingers weaved in my hair. It was the most tender moment I ever experienced. Less than a minute later, when a car pulled up into the adjoining lot, it hit me ... the risks we had taken. Tom and I broke our embrace and adjusted our clothes. I heard two car doors open and slam shut, some muffled voices, and footsteps towards the sub shop. Already I missed Tom's touch. I leaned in closer towards Tom and sweetly smiled. "You were ... fucking amazing." My smile was returned. Tom pulled out his cell phone. I had forgotten about the pictures, but was glad that he was deleting them, citing, "I'm a gentleman of my word." After a few seconds, he had erased my pictures. He pointed the display in my direction, said, "All gone." His most recent picture was now that of a golden retriever with a Frisbee in his mouth. "Is that Beau?" I asked. I had heard about his dog, but never seen it. "Yeah, that's Beau ... at Lake Mary." "He looks so sweet. I'm a sucker for big, floppy ears. What else have you got here?" I asked. Although Tom and I talked quite about the people in his life, I had yet to see pictures. "Here's my brother Phil and his wife Randi ..." "From your trip last month. I remember. I can see the family resemblance. He's a year younger, right?" "Yep. Oh, and here are my parents – with Sage." Sage was his girlfriend. I thought I'd be jealous, as she was so much younger. Admittedly, she was quite stunning – petite – with long black hair and round eyes. But I could sense the bitchiness. She was heavily made-up, looking sultry and pouty. "So, that's Sage." "Yeah. She was actually quite cold to the folks. I'm surprised that I managed to get them in the same zip code." "What else have you got?" I asked, noticing one more picture in his camera. "Nothing, really ..." I could tell by Tom's voice that he was into some major denial. "Nothing?" I reached for the phone, which made Tom a bit nervous. I pressed the button for the next picture, and was taken aback by what I saw. It was a picture of me. He apparently must have taken it a few months ago when he visited my office. I didn't say a word, but looked quizzically at Tom. "OK, I have a bit of a confession," he started softly as he looked towards the ground. "I've been infatuated with you, almost right from the start. I hope this doesn't freak you out ... I wasn't stalking or anything ..." "Would it make you feel any better if I told you that I've had a school girl crush on you all along?" I asked. Tom's lifted his face and gave me that sly smile. He kissed my forehead – and then embraced me. We remained close for a few minutes. Eventually, I backed off, saying, "I've really got to get home." "OK." Tom walked with me to my car in silence. We kissed on the lips once more. "Well talk again Monday," he said. "Monday," I repeated back, savoring his wetness in my crotch.