I had this interesting dream early Thursday morning. If you read enough steamy sensual stories, eventually your brain will concoct its own version depending on how good your imagination is. This dream in particular, I was the guest at a couple’s house for a MFM meeting. I was there under the cover of an in-house computer repairman. My deal was that I would look at their computer (not the files) and teach them how to understand their computer in order to make better use of what they had. The agreed fee was $20 and one of the two were to pay me before I left the apartment.
I was introduced to them by their screen names. He was big_long_stud and she was short_leather_69. I used my own screen name of bonerforahole, but I quickly insisted that they call me Norm. I didn’t mind calling him Big Long and her 69. After a couple minutes of chit chat, they gave their real names of Ben and Tracy. Ben was bigger than I and either he worked out or he ate a bunch of protein. He could have crushed me in a one-on-one fight if it would come to that. I made a mental note to keep my distance from her and show my respect to him. I was the guest and I didn’t want to be the guest that didn’t last the night.
They asked me if I drank or smoke and I politely told them that I didn’t prefer to. I am not a drinker or a smoker by personal choice, but I won’t hold it against them if they do it around me. No sense of smell helps in situations like this. Ben fished a cigarette out of his pants pocket and handed one to Tracy. She got a lighter from somewhere and the two of them puffed away like little chimneys. I asked where the computer was and Ben got up and ambled out of the room. I looked at Tracy and she said, “My apartment, his computer,” so I followed suit after Ben.
“Do you need a light,” Ben asked. I shook my head ‘no’ and he turned on his heel and walked back out of the room. The two of them had a conversation, but it was in low tones and I couldn’t understand it.
I didn’t notice any problems with the computer, but noticed that there were a lot of programs on the desktop. I quickly checked the C drive and noticed that less than 10% of it was free. That meant that Ben had a problem with it and I would have to offer professional advice. He could (of course) ignore me, but I knew I shouldn’t ignore an obvious red flag in computer usage.
I called him in and Tracy followed. He made a move to keep himself between her and I and she made a face at him. I explained that he had less than 10% of his drive in free space and that he should either consider getting some RAM memory or cut down on the programs. I asked if I could use the Control Panel and see what programs he had.
“No problem,” he said so I quickly mouse-clicked my way to the Add & Remove Programs. Several of his software programs were pretty big in size and I explained that he would either have to stop adding programs or get a bigger computer. He asked, “What happens if I don’t?” I explained to him that eventually, it would take 10 minutes or more while his computer attempted to open a particularly large program.
“Basically,” I said, “It would be like you waiting for Tracy to fuck you without telling her that you want it. She’d have to guess what you want and you don’t know how long you’ll have to wait.” I turned in my seat to glance at Tracy and a slight grin appeared on her face with the glow of the monitor screen making her eyes twinkle. The only response that I got from Ben was a grunt.
“I could show you how to defragment your computer so that you can go a little longer before you have to think about your software limitations,” I offered. A confused expression crossed Ben’s face.
“You mean like taking the shards of a grenade out of the computer?”
I chuckled and replied, “Funny. That’s what I wondered when I first heard the term. No, actually there is a little built-in program that cleans up your C drive. When you first load a piece of software on your computer, the computer automatically fragments the files and puts them all over the drive. That would be the bits and bytes of the file, not the Graphical User Interface or GUI that you see when you look for a folder.” From behind Ben, came Tracy’s soft voice. “I’m lost.”
“Ok, here is a little easier explanation. If you take a bowl of water and throw it out the door, you’d notice that it separates into a shower of droplets before it hits the dirt. In the same way, when a file is put onto the computer, the computer takes the little bits and bytes and scatters them all over the drive so that one particular spot is not flooded with one big file. The defragment option lets you tell the computer to take all those fragments and put them on one general spot on the drive so it won’t take so long for the program to load. If you’ve never done this before, you’ll notice a big difference in the speed of the computer.”
“Ok, go ahead and do that,” came Ben’s voice from behind me. From behind him, Tracy spoke again. “Are you sure that $20 is going to be enough for you?” I turned and looked at her. “Explain your question,” I replied.
She shrugged her shoulders and then said, “Well, I was just thinking that since you mentioned buying RAM for the computer to help in the computer’s performance. How would you get paid for that?” I smiled at her question because it showed she thought ahead of my statement. I was starting to warm up to her.
“Anything that I buy for your computer will be out of pocket expenses for you. I’ll tell you where I would buy it, but it is ultimately up to you where you get it.” I grinned and continued. “It would be like you telling Ben to go fuck himself and tell him exactly where and how to do it. It would be left up to him whether or not he would follow through with what you told him to do.”
A wider grin than before appeared and this time, Ben managed a quiet chuckle. He asked, “Do you always talk about other things in a way to relate to sex?”
I gave him as straight a face as I could manage but my eyes were twinkling like falling stars and replied, “Somebody was fucking around and managed to create a computer. Somebody else fucked around and found a way to create enjoyment out of graphics on the screen amounting to points in a game. Then, the person who created the computer decided a better computer was needed. It is basically a contest between the inventor for the hardware of computers and the inventor for the software of the computer to see who can fuck with the other one in a way that is really fucked up. At one point, the hardware and the software came together and now they market the stuff. And unless you know how to make the software work with the hardware, you’re screwed. At least find fun in life. If it is in the form of explanations that could relate to sex and since sex is why we met up tonight, I might as well talk about it.”
Ben snorted. “Is that all you do? Just talk about sex? Do you do that to bore yourself or was I the intended victim?” I sat back and watched the little bars inching across the screen before replying. “I see sex as more than a way to interactively have fun. If the way I do it is boring to you, then by all means, stay away from my way. I ain’t putting it on you as the *only* way to go. It’s the way I roll. Plus, I like to talk.” Ben muttered something about getting my money and left the room, leaving Tracy standing behind me. She pulled up a chair and sat down. I moved to beside the computer so that she could see my face and I hers.
“What about you,” I asked. Her eyes just looked at me in amusement. She looked behind her as though Ben’s ears were also his eyes. In a lowered tone she said, “I’d pay you $40 right now if you don’t leave when you get your $20.” I had been looking at the computer screen to check the status, but at her words, I looked sharply at her. “What about Ben?” She kinda shrugged and replied, “Well it IS my apartment. He IS my boyfriend, but right now he IS getting bored and I’m getting interested in you.”
At that point, Ben walked back into the room and tossed a wrinkled Jackson into my lap. “Time’s up, douche’ bag; I wanna see your sorry ass rolling out the door and outta here.” I got up and started to retrieve my stuff from beside the computer. Tracy put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. She reached into my lap and grabbed Jackson and then turned stuffed it into Ben’s pants. He let out a surprised grunt and grabbed her hand while it was still down the front of his pants. “What do you think you’re doing?” It almost came out in a snarl and I began to see another side of the guy. I began to wonder who the douche’ bag was.
“You’ve been nothing but rude to Norm the whole time he’s been here and I find him more interesting than you. You’re still my boyfriend, but tonight, you’ll be the first guy to leave my apartment tonight.” Her tone was even but there was an electricity buzz that could almost be felt. He had intended to show who was the Alpha male and then the Alpha male was going to get it on with the Alpha female. I wouldn’t put it past him that he’d be thinking about crushing me with his beefy-er arms. Stature-wise, he was way better than me. After one darker look in my direction, he muttered, “See if I ever show my face around here again. A man’s gotta be respected when he gives orders.” He let go of her hand.
She reached down and grabbed his balls and he shut up. A hint of a smile started to play on his face and then she replied, “Hey, I think I just found your brain. Take it and that empty head of yours out. If you can’t take a little bit like tonight, then go back to your house and think about whether or not you want me. I want you, just not right now.” She withdrew her hand and turned her head away from him. The conversation was over and I could tell the relationship was rocky.
We heard him make his way out the door and soon after that, an engine started. Tires were then heard digging up a bit more hot air and the “Alpha male” became ancient history if only for me. I was impressed that this girl had the guts to stand up to her boyfriend and tell him to hit the road and to do it while she had his balls in her hand. She led me back out to the first room that had two small couches. I excused myself and headed back to the computer to hook up my laptop with the monitor and speakers. If I was going to stay longer, I was going to stay right; by getting some music going.
When I returned and the sounds of David Arkenstone were wafting through the apartment, I finally let myself take a good look at Tracy. She appeared to be my age, brown hair that curled around the front with her bangs and fell to the top of her shoulders. Her greenish-blue eyes were sharp in both detail and what they saw. At this point, they were watching me. Apparently, I was supposed to say something, but I continued to look at her.
She didn’t appear to be wearing very much makeup and if she was, I couldn’t tell. Her lips weren’t the big sensuous type, but they had a curve that suggested that kissing was her favorite pastime. Her cheekbones were about an inch-and-a-half below her eyes and her ears had one small stone in them. I let my gaze travel down and I lingered on her neck. I reached out and touched her Adam’s apple. She giggled in response. With both hands, I began to massage her neck where the two tendons go from collarbone to cheekbone. I felt her lean into it and wondered if she ever got this before. I loosened the kinks in her neck and then withdrew my hands being careful not to touch her from the neck down.
“So, tell me,” she said. “Tell me about sex.” I grinned and asked, “What do you want to know?” She scrunched up her face a bit and a cute half frown half pout puckered up her lips. “I wanna know your ideas about sex and where you get them from.” I wasn’t satisfied with that answer. So, I began to probe her mind like I had just done her neck with my fingers. “Why do you want to know this? I mean, you barely know me other than what you have read on my blog. What makes you think I know enough about sex to say anything about it?” She had a ready answer for that one.
“It’s the way that you talk about it. I mean, first you can talk about sex as casually as though sex and computers could easily co-exist. Then you throw around the F bomb, but you don’t bomb the crap outta the word. You have an ease about it, yet you don’t appear to be in any hurry to get to that point of getting into my pants. I wanna know why you’re not begging to get laid with me. I wanna know your underlying base about sex. When you leave, I’ll be handing you two $20s, but I am going to make you earn it.”
“Fair enough,” I replied. “I’ll start from the beginning. I am a believer in the Creationist view of the earth’s beginning. There has to be a purpose to why a Creator went into such detail with each animal. From the beginning, the Creator which I refer to as “God”, “Jesus”, or the “Lord”, had an eye for detail. In the book of Exodus, he instructed the Israelites not to overdo it on having sex with family. I’m sure that this isn’t the exact words, but you get the picture. God knew that after so many copies of the DNA, eventually it would fall apart. The result of the perfect DNA falling apart is that in the places where it would fail, a malignant gene would form. That malignant gene causes the entire DNA sample to be contaminated. When it becomes contaminated, the person that has the DNA dies because their DNA strand isn’t strong enough to battle.
“Some years later, God visited the King Solomon and asked him in a dream what he would want to help in ruling the kingdom. Instead of asking for wealth or power, the king asked for wisdom. But even though he became the wisest man of all time, he did one thing that considered stupid: he married 500 wives and had 1000 mistresses. But above all of that, he wrote a book called The Songs of Solomon and sometimes it is called the Song of Songs. The song is about sex. And before you ask, I won’t be reading it to you simply because it is written in a way that disarms the female.
“I’m not a virgin, so I know some part about sex, but because it was between two people who had two different outlooks on which way the relationship was headed, it lasted less than three months. In those three months, I discovered several things in foreplay that I enjoyed so much that now, I enjoy foreplay better than sex. One of the things I put in my blog was the entry “Hot or Not?”. I got several comments on that one and I point readers to it particularly because it seemed that I was the only one who had done that sort of thing.”
Tracy was sitting there listening to me talk and while I was talking, she went to the small fridge and was looking for a beverage. “What do you want? I have Kool-Aid, pop, and skim milk.’ I got an impish look on my face and followed her over to the fridge to look over her shoulder. I was just a bit taller than she. Her eyes had been watching mine and I made sure to not “check her out” while I was walking over. I reached under her outstretched arm and closed the door.
“Trace, I would like your permission to touch your upper body.” It was as close as I’d come to asking if I could pet her. Her greenish-blue eyes got a little larger, but crinkled at the edges as she grinned.
“I was wondering if you’d ever get around to that. Yes, you may touch me.” She was still watching my eyes as she leaned back against me and as she turned to face me, our lips met is a slow kiss. I did not make a move to touch her yet because I was concentrating on the feel of her lips on mine. It had been about a year and a half since I had kissed a woman and I was savoring it as much as possible.
I pulled my head back and looked into those eyes again. There was a definite reaction down below my waistband and I wondered if the reaction was matched. Instead of reaching down there to check, I moved around behind her. I placed her hands at her side and then traced my fingertips up her arms. My right hand was on her right side and my left on her left. I moved my fingers at a slow pace and slid up to the part where her t-shirt covered the arm. I stopped, and then slid back down. Reaching the end of her fingertips, I moved my arms so that they crossed over her stomach. Then, I pulled her to me in a backwards embrace. I guess you could say I was getting ready to spoon her without sex.
I pulled her body till it was touching mine. There was no resistance and if anything other than that, there was a relaxation and she more or less leaned her butt into my crotch where it the sensitive cheeks discovered a rigid object that pushed out from my pants. She moaned just lightly and I was instantly turned on. I knew that I had her and all that was needed was to turn up the heat. I did so by spreading my hands and placing them on the sides of her head. I pushed on her head so that it lay on my shoulder. Brushing her hair aside, I kissed her left ear lightly. I maneuvered her head so that it lay on my other shoulder and kissed her right ear lightly. I told her to close her eyes as my fingers drifted down over her face.
In the same way that Helen Keller learned the face of her teacher by tracing over the lines and contours, I was making an imprint into my memory about her face. If my visual memory failed me, I could always remember what she *felt* like. Her skin was soft, her eyebrows and hair like velvet. When my fingertips brushed over her lips, I felt her lips part and instinctively, I put my two index fingers inside. Her tongue was waiting and she twirled around my two fingers and lingered.
After about a minute of that foreplay, I continued on down her chin. It was pronounced, but wouldn’t be giving her a “grandma’s” chin when she was older. My dry and moist fingers slid down her neck, down over her t-shirt. This time, I did not avoid her breasts, but lightly trailed down over them. I noted with a grin that they were hard as pebbles and straining under her bra. In a slightly faster move, I came to the end of the shirt and then started back up. This time, I was underneath the shirt. I came to her belly button and my fingers all gathered around. I used one of my moist fingers to dig into it. Then I tapped it and said, “I’ll be back later and I’ll be bringing some more moisture.” Her response was a giggle that turned into another moan. I wondered again how wet she was.
I stopped my digging and moved on up. “Wait,” she said. With a hurried but practiced hand, she reached behind her and undid the catch. Seconds later, the bra was in her hands and dropping to the floor. I groaned and pressed my crotch into her ass. She responded by pushing back. My hands found the bottom of her swelling breasts and I stopped. I guided her back into the room with the couches and sat down in one of them. Then, I sat her on my knees so that she was straddling them. I put my hands to her sides and pushed the shirt up to reveal her gorgeous tummy. I scooted her as close to me as possible and then made her lay back on my knees. Leaning down, I stuck my tongue into her belly button and then I kissed it. My tongue slid back out and I was probing her innie. I started to suck on it softly and then more forcefully as thought I was trying to make her innie be an outie. I pulled back and brought her head back up. As she came back up, I pushed off the rest of her shirt and met her breasts and sucked one of the areolas into my mouth. She moaned again and I felt the vibration from her voice box travel through her rib cage and up through the breast. I moaned back and let my vibration travel down my tongue onto the nipple.
My ears caught the sound of the defrag command being over, but I ignored it. After I had “eaten” her breasts, I continued on up and kissed the side of her neck. She was like a limp mannequin to my touch and I was eating her like a chocolate bunny. I felt her hands at my side and my shirt came off. I moved my position on the couch so that my head was on one of the arm rests. Her breasts rested on my chest and the skin on skin reaction was like fire between us. I pulled her head to mine and our lips met for the second time. This time, she was forceful and her tongue slid from her mouth into mine. For a while, our lips were unmoving as our tongues explored the touch. I moved my head to the side so that I wouldn’t be breathing into her nose. My breath tickled her ear and hers mine. My ever busy fingers traced from the back of her head and traveled down the spine of her back.
After a few moments, our mouths disconnected and we focused more on just the presence of each other. The music from my CD had finished playing and the apartment was silent except for two people on the couch breathing contentedly. I wondered how I had such good luck to have such a quick sensual and intimate chemistry with almost a complete stranger. But, I didn’t want to rush things. The last time I had a relationship, I rushed into it as though my heart were an untamed stallion. The last time a gal had tried to capture me, she did it too quickly and I spooked. Tracy was the kind of gal that I really enjoyed. And I didn’t want to enjoy her for what she was so that I would overlook who she was.
I made the first movement and my arm snaked over the side of the couch where I fished my shirt off the floor. Her eyelids opened and I saw her beautiful irises once again.
“Did you want to spend the night?” The question was full of promise. She was giving me the signal that I had the permission to take her completely. She wasn’t complaining that she didn’t get enough, but I got the impression that she wasn’t satisfied with what I had given her.
“No, I don’t think that I will. The last time I spent the night at a girl’s house, I regretted it for a year. I don’t like to think that the first relationship I had was so terrible that I will never do things the same way again, but in the same light of the situations that happened after I slept with her, I honestly don’t think my body could take the stress of it again.”
She raised up on her forearms to look at me and she offered me a view of her breasts framed neatly between her arms. With curious concern in her voice, she asked, “What was so terrible about it?” I had dreaded questions like this, but I had asked myself the questions so often that I had a ready answer.
“Well, the first thing that made it terrible is that I had sex and she got pregnant. Later, I find out that she wanted to get pregnant so that she would have a *moral* hold on me as a way to pressure me into staying in a situation I wasn’t comfortable with. I found this out because she was writing a journal and one day, she left it on my truck and I started to read. What I found was the evidence of a control freak. She had the day of a wedding planned out, the names of 100 guests and 100 more blank spaces. She had the dates planned out that we would have sex, the dates that the children would be born on, the *gender* of the children, their names, where we would spend our honeymoon. On and on and on. I realized with horror and fear that if I did not get out of that relationship, she would ruin my character and forever change me into something I did not want to be.
“When I told her that I could not go on in life with her, she broke completely. She promised never to beg for sex again, but I wouldn’t bend my back for her anymore. She started to cuss and swear at me and called me some horrible names. She told me that I didn’t love her when just the opposite was true. I loved her so much that I would’ve died for her that day even if it meant I’d be dying as a single guy and not attached. But, I had to go. I could not be the person that I wanted to be and still be around her. Several weeks later, my worst fear of a control freak came true: she came after me with a gun.
“While my youngest sister fled for her life, I talked with my ex and I could tell she was really starting to lose it mentally. Mental retardation had a history in her family and she wasn’t a top-of-the-line gal, but I fell in love with her character. The character that she wanted me to see and for two months, it was all I saw. It was the third and final month that I found out who she really was and I knew I would never be the same if I didn’t rid myself of her. She was like a disease and I was slowly becoming like her.
“For a while, I simply tried to talk with her. She kept hiding this bag and keeping her own body between me and the bag. At one point, she pulls the gun from the bag and holds it to her head. That’s when my sister fled out the other door and called 9-1-1 on her cell phone. I am glad she did because she said she had nightmares afterward from just that short time that she was there. After it was just me and my ex in the house, she pointed the gun at me. I had to watch that she didn’t pull the trigger. I kept talking to her and telling her that this wasn’t the way to do things. She kept telling me that she didn’t care anymore because I had hurt her more than anyone ever had in her whole life. She might as well have shot me, as much as that statement hurt me.
“I kept getting closer and closer to her and finally had my hands on the gun. She still had a hold on it to the point where her finger was on the trigger, but I had it pointed over my shoulder. In one millisecond when her eyes were not on mine or our hands, I made my move. Faster than she anticipated, I took the gun and shoved it up. She was taller than me, but I had a plan that was forming as I moved. I got her next to a chair and then using a method that I learned several years ago in an unarmed self defense class; I flipped her over the chair. In the process of her falling, she had to let go of the gun. Only when I took a quick look at it, did I realize that it wasn’t the .9mm that I thought it was. It was actually a pellet gun. I pointed it at the floor and pulled the trigger. The only sound that was heard was the sound of the spring-action trigger hitting the pellet. As soon as she realized that she no longer had the upper hand, she took a scissors off the bar table and threatened to slice her wrist right then and there. I slowly made her back out the door and then I locked it.
“Slowly, with shaking hands, I lay the gun on the table and then called 9-1-1. It was then that I learned that three Sheriffs were already on their way out. My sister was safe with my cousin’s husband and he had a gun in case things got out of hand. Those three that showed up brought a sense of relief that I experienced about an hour after they had left. I wrote out a report and so did my youngest sister. I credit her for potentially saving my life. In essence, I owe her mine. I have been trained in the use of a handgun and a revolver. Should the need arise, I have no qualms about maiming any person who would be threatening the life or harm of my sister.”
I hadn’t planned on saying that much, but once I started, it was like dam that had reached the top of the wall and crashed over it. Tracy had become like a statue. To be sure, not too many people can hear a first-person account of a person held at gunpoint and not have a silent reaction of some sort. Her expression of curiosity had changed to mirror my own horror and fear of having to face down a gun.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have told you all of that.” She came out of her frozen expression and looked at me with a sort of awe. Then, she bent down and kissed me lightly on my lips.
“Do you really have to go?” This time, the question held something like a sad question in which she had to let go of a hero of sorts.
“Yes, I do,” I replied. “Because of a promise I’ve made to myself about not getting into a situation that has the opportunity to change me for the worse.”
Before she could protest about not being the one to change me, I put my hand on her mouth and shushed her. Then, I gently but firmly pushed her back so that I could sit up. I reached down again to get my shirt. In the telling of the story, it had slipped from my grasp. I stripped it over my head and then got up and retrieved my computer from the other room. When I returned, she was putting her shirt on, but I could see the small circles where her nipples pushed against the fabric. “So beautiful,” I murmured as I reached out and touched them. Then, I drew her into my arms and gave her another hug. This time, she emanated warmth and a sort of “I’ll protect you for now” vibe came from her. When intimate kisses and words cannot woo me, a hug will.
I turned to go, and as I stood by the door, she had followed me. “What about Ben?” I asked. Her eyes met mine and she asked simply, “What about Ben?”
“Well, I am just curious if I am invited to come around here anymore. I mean, I think that there is a promise of a great friendship and maybe even relationship. But I don’t want to be in a place where I am not welcome. I am not the kind to interrupt a relationship that I see, however rocky it may be.
She had a thoughtful expression on her face as she replied, “Ben was my lover. He was my friend. But, he is not my companion.” I looked into her eyes as I ventured, “Are you looking for one?” Her eyes met mine and then broke away. “I don’t know. Tonight was great, but I understand that you cannot just move on with life because you’re just not ready. As far as I am concerned, the relationship I had with Ben is over. I would like to be that gal of yours, but you don’t seem to be ready. So, I don’t know.”
“Ok, let’s just take things slow,” I replied. “Send me an email at my address. I turned to leave and this time she didn’t say anything. I walked to my car and turned. She was still standing in the doorway and she waved at me. I waved back and then got in my car. I started the engine, put the car in gear, and slowly drove away. All the while, I was wondering what the next couple months might bring.
The End
Author’s Note: The story of the ex is very real. Once I drowned and had an After Death Experience (ADE). Once I faced a person who was ready to kill me on the spot. I walked away from both with a greater sense of life than ever before. A passion for life, love, and writing has come from these two life changing events. I hope you feel my passion in the reading of my stories.
~Norm~