Hygienic

This could have gone into ‘Toys*Masturbation or Lesbian Sex or maybe Non-Human, or maybe even Romance. I decided I liked the Group Sex category best of all for this one, though.

1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.

Taco Bell don’t pay shit. Maybe if you a manager you can live off what they pay. But you just a regular part-time employee? Ain’t no way you can liv off that shit.

But right after I turned nineteen, I dropped out of school; I mean, shit, nineteen years old and I’m still in the tenth grade? Even though I was going take the G.E.D., my mom still kicked me out her house.

Come to find out, as long as I’m in school? My dad was paying child support. Minute I dropped out? See Ya! And with four other kids to feed, four other kids bringing in a monthly check, my mom wasn’t about let me skate buy. So much for that bullshit about motherly love.

But that’s how I found out Taco Bell don’t pay shit. Rent. Utilities. Gas. Insurance. Oh, you want eat? That ain’t happening.

I was living with Sabrina and her boyfriend in this really shitty apartment off Pleasant Hill Road. I-85’s right there; all you can hear is all these trucks going by, don’t matter what time it is. Place is like ninety percent Mexican and ain’t none of them ever heard of birth control. There’s about a thousand kids running around. Four o’clock on a school day? You can’t get into the parking lot; all the school buses dropping off hundreds of kids.

I found a trailer to rent; that right there saved me about three hundred a month. And the trailer was a whole bunch bigger than that ratty old apartment. I bought me a can of wasp spray and started walking to work. Someone told me wasp spray is a lot better than pepper spray; it can really fuck someone up. That saved me another fifty to eighty bucks in gas. Now, only time I use my car is to go to Tucker High School for my G.E.D. classes and to the grocery store.

I needed some jeans; my old ones were just about falling apart. And they smelled like Taco Bell too. So, I went to the Tucker Goodwill store on Lawrenceville Highway, right by Jimmy Carter. And that’s where I met the love of my life.

Since I’m five two and weigh ninety four pounds, it’s not easy finding jeans. That’s why I shop at Goodwill. No way I’m paying eighty to a hundred bucks on jeans. At Goodwill, I’m probably going find three or four that kind of fit and then I just take a belt and tighten them up.

I also found two cute Hawaiian shirts that would fit my bony body. One was kind of a light blue and the other was a kind of burgundy color. Being a redhead, it ain’t easy finding stuff looks cute on me. And it was Tuesday, which is Senior Citizens day. No, I’m not a Senior Citizen, but I still get the twenty five percent off, just because it’s Tuesday.

And in a basket, right by the checkout, there were a bunch of beat up boxes. Sign said three bucks so I just looked over as I waited for some fat ass Mexican woman to quit screaming at her three kids and get her fat ass to the register and get out. Shit, bitch; maybe if you quit screaming at them, they maybe would settle down?

Right on top was a hand held shower thing. Three bucks. Just because the box was all beat up. I grabbed it and dropped it on top of my jeans.

Finally, the loud bitch and her three screaming, crying brats got through and I put my stuff on the counter.

The woman at the register was nice enough; had a horrible speech impediment but smiled and tried talking to me while ringing up my stuff. Because I work at Taco Bell, I know what assholes some customers can be, so I try to be nice to others. I said thank you and she did too.

Outside, the fat woman was still screaming at her kids and trying to shove them into a car that looked like it was made out of duct tape. There is no way that car is legal. Then again, I’m willing bet you, fat bitch ain’t legal neither.

Home in my trailer again, I dig out the shower thing and read the box. Thing’s got six settings; power rain, pulsating massage, power mist, rain massage, rain mist, water saving pause mode.

It had an ergonomic grip handle; Ms. Gonzales, my English teacher would have been proud of me. I knew that ‘ergonomic’ meant that it was designed to be comfortable when you used it. It also came with a long hose and this kind of holder thing that attached to the shower pipe.

I found Mr. Walton’s ’emergency’ tool kit under the kitchen sink and took the pliers into the bathroom. Mr. Walton’s my landlord; he owns this trailer. Actually, he owns about fifteen trailers and rents them out. And he says shit’s always breaking down and he don’t feel like lugging a big old tool box everywhere and anyway, most of the shit breaks? We can probably fix it ourselves and don’t need be bothering him. So he leaves a bunch of emergency tools at our trailers.

I took the old showerhead off and figured out how do the holder thing, then the hose thing and finally the ergonomic hand held shower. Then I got naked and got into my shower.

The leaver was on ‘power mist’ and holy shit. I wear a 29B bra so don’t really have big tittis. I do got nice big nipples and they are so sensitive and anyway, the water hits my nips and I just about screamed.

I got the thing down out of the holder and pressed the spray right at my nipples and did scream when I came.

I switched it all the way over and got the ‘power rain’ which was kind of meh. Pulsating massage made me open my eyes wide. I immediately brought that thing down to my pussy and let it do its thing.

I came again with that pulsating massage pounding against my little button. The other settings were all pretty meh. Power mist and pulsating massage and who needs any other settings? Oh, well, yeah, I guess rain and power rain are pretty good for washing your hair, you know, rinsing off your body. I mean, I do plan to take a shower every now and then and not just to play with myself.

I called my showerhead ‘Trey’ after this kid we had in school last year. Trey Lott was just so fucking hot and wasn’t all dick about it. Of course, he had it bad for Marianne Johnson and never even looked at me. I didn’t blame him. I had it bad for Marianne Johnson; she was this gorgeous cheerleader with the long blonde hair and giant boobs.

I threw my new clothes into the washing machine and then had to hurry up and get dressed for work. I got there and changed into my uniform in the bathroom then clocked in.

We were just about dead. So, when Jamie Martin came in with that bitch Cheryl Harris, I could see them. Jamie smiled real big and waved. I gave him a nod and finished up the drive-through order.

Jesus Christ, I wanted so bad spit in his bean burrito and two double decker tacos. I wanted spit in that bitch’s Nachos Supreme.

Really? I wanted to cry. I loved Jamie Martin and I really thought he loved me too. I mean, shit, I sucked his dick on our first date. He was handsome and funny and kissed real good too.

He and that stuck up bitch Cheryl had graduated last year; Jamie was nineteen and I think Cheryl was twenty and I ran into him at the library and that’s how I found out he was real smart. He was looking for this book called ‘A Wrinkle In Time’ and the librarian was telling him it wasn’t due back in for another three days.

“You reading that for college?” I asked him.

“Hey! How you doing, Debbie?” he asked me, smiling real big.

He remembered my name. And, no, he wasn’t looking for that book for some college class; he was working at CareerBuilders, in their Customer Service Department. He was actually wanting to read the book for fun.

Me? I was there because I needed to do a report on some dumb ass migration stuff for a Science class. This was right before I decided to drop out. Jamie helped me find the book I needed, then showed me the same book was in the Audio Book section. I didn’t even know the library had an Audio book section.

“Get them both,” he said. “That way, you can read along with the cd. Sometimes? Hearing it out loud helps you understand it.”

We then went to Frontera’s Mexican restaurant on Indian Trail. There’s a huge difference between Taco Bell and Frontera’s.

In front of my mom’s place, we made out. He gave my boobs a nice squeeze and didn’t give me a bunch of shit about how tiny they are. I reached down and started rubbing his junk and, why they call it junk? Package, I can kind of understand; you got a dick and some balls so it’s kind of like a package deal. But junk?

Anyway, it’s dark, and my mom’s not even home; I guess Britney’s in charge so I’m in no hurry get in because minute I do, Britney’s going run off somewhere and I know she ain’t changed Gregory’s diaper and I sure as shit don’t want change it.

Jamie’s dick is nice and fat. He’s uncircumcised and his foreskin’s covering up most of the head of his dick, but I can feel it with my fingers. I guess he’s about six, maybe seven inches long; I remember Tracy telling me this joke once; why are girls so bad at math? He held his thumb and finger about an inch apart and said, because they’re told that this is six inches. But Jamie really is about six or seven inches long and nice and thick.

Anyway, I bent my head and I’m stroking him and I put my mouth over the head of his dick and licked all around.

He doesn’t taste bad. A bunch of the girls at school bitched about how bad some guys taste. It doesn’t taste bad. It feels kind of nasty when he’s shooting it in my mouth, but the taste is okay.

Then after I sucked his dick, he kissed me again, then fingered my pussy until I came. He reminded me about my books and that’s when I remembered, my car was still at the library.

Jamie didn’t even get all pissed off about having to drive all the way back to the library. And when we got there, we made out again before I got out of his car and into mine. And again, I forgot my stupid books. Jamie laughed as he gave them to me, and kissed me again.

Our next date I let him fuck me. And again, Jamie kissed me afterward. The back seat of his Toyota sucked as far as having enough room to fuck in. But he really does kiss great. And he’s funny and smart and handsome.

“See you around, Debbie,” Jamie called out as he and Cheryl leave Taco Bell.

“Uh huh,” I said and grabbed the stack of trays off the garbage can.

I don’t even remember the movie I wanted to see. Jamie said we would go see it. Then, next day, he called me and told me he’d run into Cheryl Harris; did I remember her? Yeah, I remembered her; little Miss My Shit Don’t Stink with her momma’s money and nice clothes and her momma’s Lexus and I know them titties got to be fake and I hate her red hair; hers is red. Mine is orange, like orange soda orange. And her perfect skin; bet Cheryl’s never had a pimple in her life or even a freckle. Yeah, I remember her.

Couple weeks later, after Jamie dumped me for that big old bitch, we were at Mulligan’s house; his dad and step-mom were out of town and we’re at Mulligan’s and Jamie and Cheryl come in. Jamie smiled at me and starts to come over, but Cheryl gives me this ugly face and pulls Jamie to the couch. I made sure Jamie saw me kissing Brian. Brian takes me into Mulligan’s sister’s room and pulls my jeans off and fucks me. Don’t even say a word. Just fucks me.

And before I can even get up, Mulligan’s fucking me. Then some other guy I didn’t even know was fucking me. Then Gerry Jackson’s fucking me.

Nine guys. Nine guys fucked me. Two of them used condoms. The rest of them didn’t. And, other than when I kissed Brian? Out in the living room? Not one of them kissed me. Shit, three or four of them didn’t even talk. Just stuck their dick in and that was it.

And when I got my jeans back on and left the bedroom, Jamie and Cheryl were gone. I’d done that shit, trying make Jamie Martin all jealous and he didn’t even stick around.

About a week later, Barry called me, all pissed off. Jenny, his wife? Said Barry gave her chlamydia. Because she was seven months pregnant, chlamydia could have been real dangerous for the baby. Anyway, she was pissed off at him and Barry said I was the only slut he’d fucked since he and Jenny got married.

Really? I don’t even remember fucking Barry, but I guess I did. So I had to go get treated for chlamydia and had to tell them all the guys I’d fucked. The ones I remembered.

They traced it back to Gerry Jackson. You’d think that asshole would have been sorry about it. Nope. Asshole just laughed about it and said he kind of knew he had it when he’d fucked me.

Two months later, I got an invitation to Jamie’s wedding. He was actually going to marry that big titted bitch Cheryl. I tore the fucking invitation up; like I really wanted to see Jamie Martin get married? To someone else?

Then I met Kyle. Made me wet just looking at him. He came into Taco Bell, smiled at me and ordered his food. After he ate, he came back to the counter and asked me for my phone number. I wrote it out for him. I don’t know why he asked me for my phone number; he just waited until we closed, and then came back to my trailer with me.

Anal sex hurts. Not a lot; actually, when I lost my cherry, that hurt a lot more. But taking his dick up my bony ass hurt.

I didn’t know what he had in mind when he asked me if I had any lube. I mean, shit, my pussy was practically dripping; how much lube did he need? But I found a jar of Vaseline in my bathroom and gave it to him.

I should have figured it out when he had me get on my hands and knees. But I didn’t figure it out until he was pushing his dick into my ass. And he was holding onto me real tight; left bruises on my hips where he grabbed me.

“Bad thing ’bout ass fucking? Kind of messy,” Kyle said, pulling his dick out of my ruined ass. “Need jump into the shower here.”

“Need use the hall bathroom,” I said, getting off my bed.

“Naw, bathroom’s right here,” Kyle said.

“No, need use the one in the hall,” I ordered him.

Mother fucker actually pushed me. I got his sperm dripping out my ass and the mother fucker actually pushed me and his sperm dripping out my ass? That was the grossest feeling in the world. Kind of like I had crapped myself. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t squeeze my ass shut tight enough to keep his sperm in there.

“God damn it! I don’t want you using my bathroom,” I screamed. “Go use the hall one.”

I called the police. I mean, shit. This is my house. I got a right. I don’t want him using my bathroom, getting his nasty germs all over my bathroom. That’s my bathroom. And I really, really don’t want him fucking with my showerhead. Trey Lott’s mine, God damn it.

When I screamed I was calling the cops, the asshole just laughed at me. The dispatcher was real nice and said someone would be right there. Think they call it ‘remaining after being told to leave’ or something like that.

And they were right over. Turned out they were over at Mrs. Nagel’s trailer; Mr. Nagel had accidentally set off the alarm again and didn’t answer the phone when the alarm company tried to call, so they sent the police. So when the call about Kyle trespassing came over, they didn’t even hit the siren.

“Aw, you bitch! You fucking bitch! You, I can’t believe you really called the fucking police?” Kyle screamed when two police officers came into the bedroom.

“These your pants, sir?” one of the officers asked, picking up Kyle’s jeans.

“No,” Kyle said, real smart ass. “Look at her. Think they’d fit that flat ass?”

That hurt. A minute ago, he said I had a perfect ass for fucking. But now it’s a flat ass.

“So, who’s stuff is this?” the officer asked, indicating a corner of a plastic baggy sticking out of one of the pockets on the jeans.

“Shit, I don’t know,” Kyle said, grabbing for his jeans. “For all I know, ‘No-tits’ there put that in my pants.”

“Uh huh. Get dressed, buddy,” the officer said, getting between Kyle and my bathroom so Kyle couldn’t run in there real quick and flush that stuff.

I prayed the cop wouldn’t get in my bathroom. Bad enough had scrub all of Kyle’s germs out of there. Didn’t need scrub another set of germs out of there too.

Kyle tried to run. The two cops were ready for that and had him in cuffs before he even got two steps out.

“Fucking bony ass bitch; you was the worst fuck I ever had,” Kyle said and spat at me.

So I had to go use the hall bathroom. I mean, shit, fucking asshole spat at me. I don’t think he hit me, but still, I had to go wash, just in case. And I couldn’t use my bathroom; Kyle’s got his germs all over the God damned shower. So I went and used my hall bathroom. Had to use the cheap ass soap and cheap ass shampoo I’d bought for that bathroom, instead of my good soap and shampoo.

After my shower, I got out the Clorox bleach and scrubbed my bathroom. I mean, I scrubbed. But I could still smell Kyle in there. So I turned on the fan and closed the door

Then I sprayed my carpet with carpet foam. Kyle spat at me and I don’t know where his spit landed. But I sure don’t want be tracking that all over my trailer. So I sprayed the bedroom carpet down real good and got out my vacuum cleaner and cleaned the carpet.

The next morning, I could still smell Kyle in my bathroom, so scrubbed it again. Then I went and took a shower in the hall bathroom.

I got my G.E.D. and Tracy, my manager got me a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and I found out, I do not do well with whiskey. Maybe its whiskey and orange soda I don’t do well with. After scrubbing my vomit out of my bathroom, I decided I needed to get a handheld showerhead for the hall bathroom too. My bathroom still kind of smells like Kyle, and now it smells like puke too.

Oh, and get this. I found out, that Kyle asshole? He’s married. And his wife? Think she’s mad at Kyle? Nope. She’s mad at me for calling the cops on her asshole husband. Said she was coming down to the Taco Bell to kick my ass. But she never did show up.

But now I got a G.E.D. and I signed up to take some classes to maybe learn some stuff about plumbing. I can’t help but think, if I can put in showerheads, maybe I can do other kind of stuff too.

I did pretty good at the first few classes I took. Okay, some of the physical stuff? I suck at. I don’t know who the dick was that tightened them bolts so fucking tight, but I never did get them off. Billy, guy right after me got them off with no problem.

His big gold tooth kind of sparkled when he smiled and said to me, “That’s all right, Debbie. You got them loosened up for me, right?”

And at the Tucker Library, I was using their computer to search on line and saw where some maintenance crew for this Buckhead building was looking for a plumber’s helper. I thought it couldn’t hurt to try, so sent them a resume I typed up real quick and sent it in.

The first interview was over the phone. I was pretty sure I didn’t get the job; they asked me a bunch of stuff I didn’t know. Then couple days later, they wanted me come in for a face to face interview. And get this. Starting pay was eighteen bucks an hour. More than twice what I’m making at Taco Bell.

Tracy gave me another fifth of Jack Daniel’s my last night at Taco Bell. I don’t know how he did it, but he got me to suck his dick. I swear I ain’t drinking Jack Daniel’s no more. Shit makes me stupid and I get sick anyway.

Marta has a stop right in front of the Buckhead building. So, I just drive down to the Doraville station and take the train to Lennox, get on the bus and I’m there. The Peachtree Corners stop is a little bit closer to my trailer,

but my dad’s mom lived right by the Doraville Station so I just liked the Doraville one better. I remember going with my Nana down to the airport; we’d take the train all the way down and wait for my dad. He’d come back from wherever he’d been and he’d be all smiles and hugs and we’d ride the train all the way back to the Doraville Station and it’s just happy memories for me. Of course, I don’t remember it being this dirty back then. Nana died a few years back and my dad lives in Austin, Texas now, but it’s still happy memories for me.

I was standing, waiting for the train. Some dick is smoking a nasty cigarette so I’m standing, trying not to smell his nasty smoke. The maintenance crew gave me three shirts to wear; it’s got the name of the building and says ‘Maintenance’ right underneath that. They’re men’s’ ‘Small’ shirts, and they’re still kind of big on me, which is fine.

This beautiful Latin girl smiled at me and I smiled back. The train came and we hurried to get on; there were a lot of people trying to get on and get off.

The Latin girl got off at Lennox and smiled at me again when we got on the same bus. Then, we got off in front of the building together.

She told me what law firm she worked for. I told her I worked for the maintenance crew. Inside the lobby, she smiled again and went to the elevators. I went to the stairs and walked down to the second level basement.

There’s some nasty people work here, you hear? Accounting office on the eight floor had a toilet back up. Reason? Some bitch tried flushing her pad down. I ran a snake down, got the thing unstuck then wrote it up. Mr. Gaylord, my boss got on the phone with the head of the accounting office and told her why the toilet had backed up. They got into a big argument about it; she swore there was no one in her office that would have ever done such a thing.

“Maybe a client of yours?” he suggested. “Even though it was an employee only bathroom.

“Great work, Debbie,” he smiled when he finally got off the phone.

There’s some fitness center on the fifth floor and their hot water heater broke. Water everywhere. I saw my new friend among the group of people the trainer turned away while we worked our asses off trying fix the busted pipe. She smiled and waved. I nodded my head and smiled, but my hands were busy at that moment.

We got the water turned off soon enough. But the repairs took forever. It was after eight o’clock before we could get out of there. The security guard had to unlock the door to let us out. That bus runs every twenty-thirty minutes during the day, but only once an hour after seven. Thank God I saw that bus coming and hauled ass for the stop.

The next morning, my new friend saw me and came over. I told you she’s beautiful, right? Her black hair hangs down to the backs of her legs and her face is round with this cute cleft in her chin, kind of like Jamie’s face. She’s got these big black eyes and big pouting lips. She’s wearing heels so she’s taller than me and I can’t help but look at her boobs as she’s walking over to me.

“Hi, ya’ll got that hot water heater fixed?” she asked.

“Uh huh. Took forever too,” I agreed.

“Jamie Martinez,” she said, holding out her hand.

“No kidding?” I asked, thinking of Jamie Martin. “Oh! Sorry, I’m Debbie Sayles.”

We chatted whole time we waited for the train. Then made sure to get together and we had to stand; the train was packed. That bullshit about Southern Gentlemen is totally bullshit. Not one asshole would stand up and let either one of us get their seat.

Honestly? I don’t remember what we talked about. I just kept staring at her beautiful eyes and her perfect nose and that dent in her chin and those lips. I would kill to have lips like those. And her light brown skin, like melted caramel, instead of my freckled skin; I’m a natural red head. And even though we kept bumping into each other when the train stopped and took off, it didn’t bother me.

The bus, thank God, was just about empty. We sat down and just kept talking. We almost missed our stop. We both squealed and screamed and got off in front of the building and we were still laughing and talking when we got in.

“Bye Debbie,” Jamie said, then said something in Spanish.

“Bye,” I agreed and hoofed it down the stairs.

It was dead. Mr. Gaylord sat at his desk and played Solitaire with a deck of cards that must have been at least a hundred years old. They were worn out. I played a couple of games on my phone. Cliff leaned back in his chair and started snoring.

I found out Mr. Gaylord’s baby sister had given him that deck of cards for a birthday present. A couple of months after, she was hit by a drunk driver and was killed. Mr. Gaylord refuses to play Solitaire with any other deck of cards; he’s got a bunch of other decks people have given him over the years. But those beat up old cards, that’s his Solitaire deck.

At three o’clock, Mr. Gaylord sent me home. He smiled and said some days are like that. Not a single call. And then some days are crazy; just running from one floor to the next.

When I got my first paycheck, I about fell over. Mr. Gaylord must have thought something was wrong; he told me that was for my first week. My next paycheck would be for the full two weeks because I’d come in on the middle of the pay cycle.

I called Mr. Walton and asked him if I could put in an eighty gallon water heater. The other day, I’d had my towels in the washing machine, and had the dishwasher going and when I got in my shower to let Trey Lott get me nice and clean, there wasn’t no hot water left.

After Kyle fucked me up the ass, I kind of like fingering my ass. I tried doing the pulsating massage thing on my hole, but some water shot up in there? Next thing I knew, I had hurry up and get out and go potty. So after that, I put Trey Lott on power mist and put my left foot on the edge of the tub and let it hit my pussy and ass, and God! About three minutes into it, I got to stop. I’m standing there, right on the edge, right on the edge. And finally, I can’t take it and just have to rub my pussy until I cum.

The Goodwill didn’t have any more of the showerheads in, so I had to go to the Home Depot on Lawrenceville right there. I got a ten dollar one; it’s for the hall bathroom. But I saw some parts and one of the parts was a skinnier hose that was nine feet long. The hose that came with Tray Lott is like maybe five feet long, which is plenty long for showering. But sometimes, I might want just lay down and use him on my pussy.

Just like when you put your thumb over the hole, make the hole smaller makes the water come out harder? The skinnier hose makes the water come out a little bit harder.

Mr. Walton was okay with me switching out the water heater if I was willing to pay for the tank. But he wasn’t about to let me do it by myself. Even though I told him I’m a plumber’s helper, he didn’t trust me to do it right.

I had the water turned off and the old tank drained before Mr. Walton even got there. Really, I was kind of glad he was there; that tank was heavy. But now, I can run the washing machine, the dishwasher, and still have a boatload of hot water. And laying down and spreading my legs and letting that pulsating massage hit my button? I use up a lot of hot water.

“Friday!” Jamie whooped when I showed up at the train station.

“Oh yeah!” I smiled.

“You doing anything?” Jamie asked me.

“Fucking my Trey Lott as much as I can,” I thought.

Eighty gallons of water lasts a good long time. Ever since Mulligan’s party, a couple of my friends don’t want to be friends no more. And a couple of guys think that since I fucked them before, I’m going fuck them again. And the last time I went anywhere, I saw Jamie and Cheryl and that bitch just gave me this shitty smile and shitty attitude and she was treating Jamie like shit and I just wanted to beat her ass.

“No. You?” I asked Jamie Martinez.

She named some nightclub in Little Five Points that she was going to and told me about this dress she’d bought. She was so excited about the whole thing and then she asked me if I wanted to go; we could take the train down; we’d have to switch lines to East-West but it was right by the train station.

“I’m not twenty one,” I said.

“You’re not?” Jamie asked, surprised. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” I admitted and we got on the train.

We weren’t swamped at work, but we weren’t dead either. And Cliff smelled like beer when he came in. And he still smelled like beer at lunch time. I didn’t say anything; how do I know? Maybe Mr. Gaylord’s okay with Cliff drinking on the job.

Turns out he wasn’t okay with it. I got back from swapping out a leaking faucet in some lawyer’s personal bathroom and Mr. Gaylord let me know he’d fired Cliff.

“Thank God I hired you,” was the last thing Mr. Gaylord said before I clocked out to go home.

I felt good the whole way home. Mr. Gaylord said he was happy he’d hired me. Once home, I made myself some dinner, cleaned up my kitchen, then quit putting off what I really wanted to do. I’m surprised the carpet didn’t catch fire as I burned my way to my bathroom.

I stripped out of my clothes and pulled Trey Lott down and lay on the floor of my bathtub. I got the water just right, then pressed Trey Lott up against my pussy and pulled the knob up for the shower.

“Fuck! That first blast of water is always so cold! But like a nanosecond later, the hot needle spray is hitting my pussy lips and the warm water’s spraying up into me and needles of water is hitting my button and some needles of hot water’s hitting my taint. You know, the taint. That bit of skin between pussy and ass. Taint the pussy and taint the ass hole.

“God, I’m glad I’m laying down. After my first orgasm, I switch it over to pulsating massage and just let it pound the shit out of my button. I can’t help but think it’s probably not fair to any guy I ever fall in love with. I mean, how could they compete with Trey Lott and eighty gallons of hot water?

When I just can’t hold the showerhead anymore, I shut off the shower and just lay in the hot water. When it starts getting cool, I went ahead and soaped up my body and then shampooed my hair. I had let it grow down to my butt, but I love watching Jamie’s long black hair; it hangs down almost to her knees and I’m thinking I might not ever cut my hair again.

Monday morning, Jamie admitted her weekend had sucked. She’d gone to that nightclub and she wasn’t there ten minutes and all of a sudden there were bullets flying everywhere. She and her friend ran into the bathroom and then after that, the cops showed up and interviewed everyone.

“Girl, shit! Didn’t get home ’til almost five in the morning,” Jamie said.

I admitted all I’d done is housework and watched NASCAR. I’d love to go to a NASCAR race at least once in my life, rather than just watching it on TV. Yeah, I like NASCAR, so sue me.

Because it was just me and Mr. Gaylord; Lenny was on vacation and Mr. Gaylord had fired Cliff for drinking on the job, we was busy. Again, Mr. Gaylord said he was glad he’d hired me when I clocked out. I was so tired all I could do was just nod my head.

And it didn’t let up. Mr. Gaylord hired Mike on Wednesday, but on Thursday, it was just me and Mr. Gaylord again. Mr. Gaylord didn’t say what’d happened to Mike and I didn’t ask. Lenny would be back on Monday anyway.

“Friday!” Jamie whooped on Friday morning.

“Uh huh. And not a minute too soon,” I agreed.

Jamie invited me over on Saturday for supper. Even with my showerhead, I was pretty lonely and so agreed to come on over to her apartment.

“Girl! Going make some Spanish chicken, you going love it,” Jamie enthused, then got a worried look on her face. “You do eat chicken, right?”

“Yeah, God, I know I’m skinny but yeah, I eat just about anything,” I smiled.

I thought Sabrina’s apartment was shitty. The apartment building Jamie lived in looked like it was ready to be torn down. Really? It looked like it would fall down at any minute.

The apartment was on the third floor. The door was splintered; I bet I could have pushed it down with my bare hands. Jamie must have been watching for me; she yanked the door open before I even knocked.

I was shocked when Jamie hugged me tight; we don’t really even know each other all that good. But she hugged me really tight, then pulled me into this nasty place. Five guys were crammed onto this couch and Jamie had to yell over their baseball game as she introduced them. Two were her cousins, I think. Her sister was in the kitchen, cooking. She was a little taller than Jamie, a lot skinnier than Jamie, and was about 8 months pregnant.

All I’ve ever seen Jamie in is her work clothes, you know, nice skirts or dresses, nice blouses, that kind of stuff. Here, she was wearing a half shirt, showing off her cute belly and some shorts that let her cute butt hang out. Her long hair was in a ponytail and Jamie looked really cute like that.

I hadn’t gotten really dressed up for this. I was wearing one of my Hawaiian shirts and some good jeans and my Nike tennis shoes. I bought them with my first paycheck and let me be real honest. Nikes don’t feel any better or worse than New Balance and because I got kind of a skinny foot? I get New Balance most of the time.

The dinner was horrible. I don’t know what Spanish Chicken is, other than undercooked leg quarters. The rice Amelia served with it was dry as a bone and the green beans were soggy. But I ate every bit of it. I don’t know how I ate it, but I did.

None of the guys were in any hurry to help Amelia or Jamie clean up. Not even Juan, Amelia’s husband. They all were in a hurry to grab a can of beer and run back into the living room to watch baseball.

I’ve got nothing against baseball. But even the world’s biggest baseball fan has to admit, it is a slow game. Football? The quarterback sits back there scratching his ass and just standing there looking ignorant? They get him for delay of game and push them back five yards. I think they should do the same thing in baseball. The pitcher’s just standing there, digging his jock strap out the crack of his ass? Batter takes a base. Bet they’d hurry up and throw the damned ball then.

Their team lost. I don’t even know which team they wanted to win, but as bad as my Spanish is, I understood that the pitcher was a Gringo pussy and the third baseman was a bitch. And both Jamie and Amelia found this all to be very amusing.

“I’m so glad you come,” Jamie said when I finally decided I had been there long enough.

“Yeah, me too,” I said, even though I wasn’t really glad I’d come, other than to see Jamie.

Our first kiss was just a quick little kiss. Jamie wrapped her arms around me and I wrapped my arms around her. I could feel her soft skin as I hugged her. Then she said ‘I love you’ and put her pouty lips on my skinny lips and I almost peed myself.

That quick little kiss when from my lips to my nips and my pussy. Bang! Just from a quick little peck on the lips.

I think, I’m pretty sure Jamie felt it too. She pulled back, those beautiful eyes open real wide and her pouty lips hanging open. I know my eyes were real wide and my mouth was hanging open; I was in shock.

My nipples were so hard they hurt. My pussy felt like I had just peed in my pants. Only other time I ever felt like this is when I’m in my shower playing with my Trey Lott.

Jamie said something; I don’t know what it was she said. Then she ran off. I just turned and left the apartment. Outside, it was dark. That place had looked pretty bad in the daylight. At night? This place was downright scary.

“Amelia says walk with you,” one of the guys said, coming out of the apartment. “You going to the train?”

“Huh?” I asked. “Uh, no, no, I got my car here.”

“You work with Jamie?” he politely asked as we walked down the steps.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, well, we work in the same building,” I agreed.

Two boys were hanging around by my car and a truck parked next to my car. One of them said something in Spanish as I unlocked my car. Again, my Spanish is horrible, but I did understand that I was being called a bitch.

The guy with me said something and the three of them started yelling at each other. I froze and Jamie’s cousin or brother in law or whatever told me to hurry up and go. I got into my car and got the hell out of there.

I just about emptied my hot water heater that night. Over and over, I just kept thinking about Jamie’s soft skin and those beautiful lips and that kiss, oh my God, that kiss and I had to ask myself if I was turning into a lezzie.

I was sitting, watching drag races on TV when my phone rang. I knew I knew the phone number, but just couldn’t think of who it might be so I answered it.

My nips got hard and my pussy got wet when Jamie said ‘hi’ and asked me what I was doing.

We talked for a couple of hours; I don’t have a clue what we talked about. But I didn’t want to get off the phone, didn’t want to let her go. I even cooked a frozen pizza and ate it while we talked. And, yeah, I unzipped my shorts and played with myself, right there, while I was on the phone with Jamie Martinez.

On Monday, Lenny came back and acted real surprised that I was still there, still working with Mr. Gaylord. Mr. Gaylord just smiled and asked Lenny how Miami had been. We hired Keith; he’d been in the Army and seemed to know his stuff. He seemed okay, even if his face was nothing but a bunch of zits. I mean, he’s at least thirty, maybe even older, and has still got zits everywhere.

But now that we’re back to being a full crew, I got out of there on time Thursday. And Jamie and I waited on the bus together and rode the train back to the Doraville Station together. I even drove Jamie the four blocks from the station to her apartment building.

In front of her building, Jamie leaned over the console of my car and gave me a kiss. Again, it was just a little peck, lip to lip. My nips went from rock hard to diamond hard and my pussy went from pretty wet to flooding. I wanted to jam my tongue down her throat and grab her boobs and just kiss her all night.

“Love you,” she smiled and got out of the car.

“Love you too,” I agreed and watched as she walked up the stairs.

I wasn’t even in my trailer all the way and Jamie was already calling me. We talked for about four hours. I was in my bed, ready for sleep before she finally said she had to go. I asked her if she wanted maybe to come over and spend the night tomorrow night. I mean, no, we weren’t going to go clubbing, it would just be the two of us doing nothing.

She agreed immediately and I squealed. Three hours later, I was still wide awake, thinking about Jamie coming here and being here, in my trailer. So I went to the Super Wal-Mart up the street and bought some popcorn and a two liter bottle of root beer; I had noticed that Jamie and Amelia both drank root beer and I got myself another six pack of orange soda and a four pack of cinnamon rolls, the kind in a tube.

I laughed, remembering once when Britney decided to make breakfast; it was Mother’s Day. Well, Britney didn’t know about you pull the tab and unwrap the can and then smack it on the counter pretty good. She used the can opener to open the top of the can and had to use a spoon to dig the cinnamon rolls out.

Thinking about that memory suddenly made me feel real alone. I grabbed some eggs and bacon and some milk; I still have a box of Count Chocula cereal in my pantry, if it’s not all stale by now. I don’t know what kind of cereal Jamie eats.

Home in my trailer, I put everything away and try to go to sleep, but had to rub myself, thinking about my friend coming over and spending the night. Finally, I fell asleep, and must have been like five minutes later, the alarm goes off.

I got to the train station and Jamie had this big bag with her and right there, in front of about thirty or forty people, Jamie ran up and kissed me right on the lips. And then grabbed my hand. Okay, really, I bet not one of them people even looked twice at us. But I felt my nips get hard, my pussy got wet, and I wanted to cry, I was so happy holding Jamie’s hot little hand in my hand.

And again, because we were running with a full crew, we got out of there on time again. Jamie and I got to the Doraville Station and I’m surprised I didn’t get any tickets; I just wanted to get home to my trailer and just hold hands and hug and kiss my friend.

“A trailer?” Jamie asked and I’m actually hurt by the tone of her voice.

“Yeah, a trailer. What’s wrong with a trailer?” I asked, real defensive.

“Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing, it’s just that, I just, I never thought you were the kind to live in a trailer,” Jamie said, trying to apologize, but really? She was just making it worse.

“Better than that shitty apartment you living in,” I screamed at her.

“It is pretty shitty, isn’t it?” she asked and giggled.

And just like that, we’re back to being the best of friends again. I let Jamie in and she looked around at everything in my living room and my kitchen. I’d left the bi-fold doors of the washer open; I had to get my work shirt out of the dryer that morning.

Jamie looked at the washing machine and the dryer which is right above the washing machine. You can only do a few jeans and work shirts at a time in it. When I need to do my comforter, I take that up to the laundromat on the corner. Wednesday night’s the best time; I guess they’re all in church or something. Saturday? Or Sunday? Forget it; you’re never getting a washing machine, ever.

“Know what? This is a lot better than my apartment,” Jamie conceded when she’d looked at everything.

She hugged me and kissed me, flat on the lips. Then, she pulled back and looked deep into my eyes. Her smile, God, it is the prettiest smile ever; those white teeth and those pouty lips.

She kissed me again and I closed my eyes and all I could feel was her beautiful lips pressing up against mine, her beautiful arms squeezing me, those perfect titties of hers pressing up against my tiny tits and those lips of hers pressed against my lips.

I rubbed my hands up and down her back. My hands feel like two clumsy bags of meat as I rub up and down. Her hair is so soft against my numb hands and I reach up and begin combing my dead fingers through her perfect hair and all I can feel is those pouty lips and she opens her lips.

I can’t breathe. Her tongue entered my mouth and I can taste that Jamie drank a cup of coffee; she told me she usually takes a little break at three forty five and she had a cup of coffee at her break and I can taste the coffee on her soft, wet, beautiful tongue.

I wonder if Jamie can tell I’m about to pass out. I can’t breathe. I’ve forgotten how to breathe. The blood is roaring in my ears and I can taste her tongue and feel her perfect titties as she squeezes me and they’re hard, her nipples are hard as we kiss. This is the first time I’ve ever kissed a girl and it’ll be the last time if I die because I can’t breathe.

Jamie gently pulled away from me and again, I’m looking into her beautiful dark eyes. She smiled that perfect smile and softly touched my face.

I almost fell to the floor. Suddenly though, I remember how to breathe and I suck in as much air as I can. She said something in Spanish and pressed those wonderful beautiful lips to mine again. And I forget to breathe all over again.

“You hungry?” I screamed, desperate to breathe; my vision was getting blurred.

Jamie looked surprised, then burst out laughing. She squeezed me even tighter and just laughed and laughed. Then she kissed me again.

“I’m kissing you and you want to eat?” Jamie giggled.

“I want to…I don’t know what to do; I’ve never been with another woman and I love you,” I’m just about screaming at her.

Somehow we got to my couch. She kicked off her shoes and pulls her left leg up underneath her and faces me. I try to do the same thing but I’m kind of clumsy. I’ve got no feeling in my legs and my hands just feel huge and numb and dead and lifeless.

Jamie leans forward and kisses me again. Her lips are perfect. They’re just right for kissing.

I feel her small hands as she started unbuttoning my work shirt. It’s actually a man’s shirt; Mr. Gaylord said he’s got some pullover shirts on order but for now I’m fine with wearing a man’s button up shirt. I don’t care.

Jamie pulled her lips from mine and kisses me on my throat. No one has ever done that before. I’ve never felt anyone ever kiss my throat before. But those perfect lips softly kiss my throat. Then she kissed my lips again and does another button on my shirt.

Her hands reached in and began playing with my tiny tits. Jamie reached her fingers into the cups of my bra and kind of squeezes and rubs my itty bitty titties. I reached my dead hands around and found the buttons of her blouse and she kissed my lips again. Then she jammed her tongue into my mouth.

Her nipples are nice and hard; I can feel them through her bra, then I can feel them as I kind of reached into her bra and rubbed them beautiful titties of hers.

Jamie pushed my shirt off then unhooked my bra. She pulled back and I wanted to cover my tits; they’re too small. I didn’t want Jamie to see how small my tits are.

“Oh, Debbie,” she sighed. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

She kissed me again while her hands fondled my boobs. I sucked hard on her tongue and tried to remember how to breathe, and how to unbutton a blouse. Breathing and unbuttoning at the same time is hard.

Her bra is a black lace bra. Against her soft brown skin, the bra looked sexy, exciting. And the clasp was in the front. She smiled and leaned back when I got her bra off, modeling her perfect titties and dark brown areolae and hard nipples.

I’ve never been with a woman before, but I know I had liked it when Jamie Martin had sucked my nips, then tried to get as much of my tits as he could into his hot mouth.

“Oh, Debbie,” Jamie cooed, running her fingers through my horrible orange hair while I sucked her nipples.

When she took her skirt and pantyhose off, I saw that her pussy was hairless. I immediately hated my pussy; I had this orange hair that didn’t even curl and my lips were light pink and kind of thin. Jamie’s pussy lips were almost fuchsia colored and nice and fat and wet, sticking out of her fat little pussy.

“You shave your pussy?” I asked, which was kind of stupid. What? Did I think her pussy hair had just fallen out?

“Laser,” she giggled, and rubbed her upper lip. “Had it done when I had them take my mustache off?”

It is just unthinkable to me. Jamie, my Jamie had ever been less than perfect? There was no way she could have ever had a mustache, any flaw at all.

“I uh, you ever, you ever been with a woman before?” I asked as I wiggled out of tennis shoes and blue jeans and pink panties.

“Never even ever thought about it,” Jamie confessed to me. “Oh, Debbie, that is the pretties little pussy!”

“I want to shave it,” I told her; I want it to be just like hers.

“Better not! I’ll break up with you,” Jamie promised as she reached out and softly caressed my ugly pussy hairs.

We kind of fought for a minute; I wanted her to lay on her back and I would lay on top and kiss every damned square inch of that beautiful perfect light brown body. She wanted me to lay on my back so she could lay on top of me and kiss my pale, pasty white body.

“You next,” Jamie promised and won our little fight.

She lay on top of me for a minute. Her smooth pussy is pressing hard against my pussy and I spread my legs wide and we kissed and she rubbed her pussy against mine.

I came, hard, when Jamie bit down on my nipple. While her mouth sucked on my nipple, her fingers were teasing the shit out of my pussy. I combed my fingers through her soft black hair while she sucked on one, then the other nipple.

Oh my God. Jamie’s mouth on my pussy is like nothing I ever imagined. Even Tray Lott don’t really come close. She pulled my pussy open and licked up and down my lips and then jammed two fingers into me and shit, I’m going have clean this couch; I can feel my pussy dripping all over it.

Why is she doing this? I don’t deserve this. She’s gorgeous and beautiful and perfect.

I can’t even make words come out as she brings me to orgasm. I just screamed and shook so hard my couch is shaking.

I can’t even think. Shit, did I remember to breathe? Breathing is important. Jamie lay on top of me again and kisses me. Her pussy mashes against mine, I really need to clean this couch. That can of carpet cleaner says it’s good for upholstery too.

We switched. I don’t remember how we did it, but I was laying on my back, legs spread wide and Jamie was laying on top of me, her beautiful lips kissing me and those perfect titties of hers pressed against my tits. Then, somehow we switched and her beautiful legs were spread wide and I was pushing my hairy pussy against her baby smooth pussy. My hair hung down, crating this kind of curtain around her beautiful face and I looked into those eyes of hers.

I was lost. I looked into those dark eyes and I was just lost. I couldn’t think of what to do and I had to close my eyes.

I wiggled my bony chest back and forth, dragging my pips over her titties. I kissed her perfect mouth and then dragged my tits up and down, back and forth.

I wiggled down and looked at those two boobs. Because she was laying down, they were kind of sagging against her ribcage and her nips were nice and hard; they were kind of a dark brown.

I grabbed a handful of my hair and kind of dragged my hair over her nips. You know, kind of like I was ‘painting’ her titties and my hair was the paintbrush.

She shuddered as I painted her body. While I painted her left titty, I started kissing and licking her right titty. Her flesh tasted of sweat and cooking oil, not real strong, but I don’t know what she had for lunch, but they’d used a lot of onion and garlic. I kissed every square inch of her boobs and sucked and even bit on her nips.

I ever make love to another woman, any woman after Jamie leaves me for someone better? They going have shave their pussy. Jamie’s pussy is perfect. So soft and smooth and warm and the taste is, I really don’t know how to describe it. I remember my dad, he would put this real smelly cheese on his sandwiches and I would pinch my nose. He always laughed at me, but one day, he made me taste it, taste that smelly nasty cheese. And I loved it.

No, no, Jamie’s pussy doesn’t stink. It kind of smells like sweat and cooking oil and yeah, kind of a little bit like my dad’s cheese and Jamie’s pussy tastes incredible.

“Oh Debbie!” Jamie gasped out as I’m licking and sucking at her pussy; trying to get all of her juice.

I had three fingers in her pussy and she has a nice, fat clittie and I’m slapping her clittie with my tongue. Her pussy is actually making noise as I finger fuck her and when I bit down on her clittie, Jamie screamed and almost suffocated me with her thighs.

We ate a frozen pizza. And microwave popcorn. And even though I’d bought that root beer for her, Jamie drank two of my orange sodas. Two of them. At one time; she drank two cans of orange soda.

In my bed, Jamie and I kind of lay together, her on her right side and me on my left and we kissed each other. We fingered each other, then did sixty nine; Jamie on top. I ever make love to any other woman, they need to have a shaved pussy. I love the way Jamie’s pussy feels when she’s just grinding it against my face.

She brushed her teeth in my bathroom. God damn, it was so fucking hard not to grab my bottle of bleach and clean that sink. Especially after she spit in my sink. I wanted to scrub the sink, the whole counter; she spit in my sink. I was glad I’d already brushed my teeth; there was no way I’d ever been able to brush my teeth after her.

We lay in my bed and her breath is minty fresh and mine is too and we kissed. Maybe it’s not so bad; her using my bathroom. You know what? It’s not so bad, her using my bathroom. I mean, Jesus, I just kissed her pussy, I kissed her mouth, and her titties and if she wanted me to, I’d even stick my tongue up her butt. She has got this incredible butt; nice and round and sweet. Not like my flat boney ass.

I know I’m going have to clean that fucking sink before I can ever use it again. I just can’t use it ever without cleaning it. Even if I do love Jamie.

In the morning, I got out one of the tubes of cinnamon rolls. Turns out? The four pack is great; there’s four different flavors of icing. I got out the Maple syrup icing one and get the oven going.

There’s five of the big huge rolls in the can and the icing was delicious but I can’t wait to see what the orange zest one tastes like and Jamie and I cut the fifth roll in half.

“Oops!” Jamie laughed as she spread some of the remaining icing on my nipple.

She sucked my nipple into her mouth and sucked the icing off my nipple. Then we kissed. She spread some more icing onto my other nipple and sucked that off. Then, right there in my kitchen, where I drank my coffee, Jamie knelt on my floor and put my legs on her shoulders as she licked my pussy.

After my orgasm, I could still feel the sticky maple syrup flavored icing on my skin. I did something I never ever thought I’d ever do in a million years. I pulled Jamie into my bathroom and got into the shower with her.

Jamie’s eyes opened real wide when Trey Lott sprayed over her nips. Yes, she is my kind of girl; Jamie grabbed both boobs and pushed them together so the spray could hit both nips at the same time. She said some shit in Spanish and shook as Trey Lott sprayed her.

I pulled Trey Lott down and pressed him on to her pussy. Jamie almost knocked me down as she shoved her tongue down my throat. She grabbed me real tight and we made out while I sprayed her pussy with my Trey Lott.

She grabbed my Trey Lott and teased my titties with him, spraying them back and forth, not staying on any one spot long enough to push me over the edge. Shit, she was driving me crazy.

Then she just jammed that son of a bitch right up against my pussy and I screamed and came hard.

“What else this can do?” she asked me and fiddled with the lever.

“Oh! You bitch! When you was going tell me about this?” Jamie asked when she found the pulsing massage setting.

Eighty gallons lasts a good long time. We were both waterlogged by the time we got out of my shower. Then, while Jamie took a nap, I got out my bleach and cleaned the whole bathroom.

Sunday morning, I made the cinnamon rolls again, this time with the orange zest icing. And again, that little bitch Jamie got me all sticky with the last little bit of icing. Her pussy did taste real nice with the icing coating her puffy lips. And again, Trey Lott got us both good and clean.

I cried when I brought Jamie home to that shithole apartment she lived in. Right there, in the fire lane in front of her apartment building, she and I made out for a couple of minutes. Then, with one more kiss, she got out. I cried the whole way home again; I wouldn’t get to see her again until tomorrow morning at the train station.

I wasn’t even in the trailer and she was calling me. It was almost two o’clock in the morning before we finally hung up. I had fingered myself about a hundred times while talking with her.

On Monday, Amelia, Jamie’s sister had a baby boy; she named him Francis. Wednesday, Jamie looked rough when she showed up at the train station. Thursday, she looked pretty rough again and said the baby was keeping everyone up.

“Why you don’t just come live with me?” I asked.

“You got enough bleach?” Jamie teased me.

“Never mind,” I said and walked away.

“I was just kidding,” Jamie said when we got on the bus that would take us to our building. “I mean, Jesus, you cleaned the whole bathroom right after we took a shower.”

I started crying. Right there on the fucking bus, right in front of a bunch of people, I just started crying.

I couldn’t help it. Yeah, I know I’m pretty fucked up; always having to share my bathroom and my bedroom and my clothes and my toys and I never had shit that was mine, just mine when I was a kid.

Mr. Gaylord asked me if I needed to go home, but I told him no. Good thing; the restaurant on the ground floor needed to have their grease trap cleaned out. The guy they’d hired to do the work didn’t know what he was doing and got grease everywhere. And that was on top of the line to the restaurant’s dishwasher that the guy broke. Oil and water don’t mix. Neither does grease and scalding hot soapy water. I didn’t get out of there until nine thirty. And Jamie had blown up my phone with a hundred text messages and voice mails.

Lenny drove me to the train station and I rode down to the Doraville station. Finally, I got into my car and called Jamie.

I couldn’t even say ‘hi’ and Jamie was crying and wailing and all kind of carrying on. All I heard that made any sense over her Spanglish stuff was she loved me and she was so sorry she’d hurt my feelings and she loved me and hoped I’d forgive her and she loved me.

“I’m right outside,” I finally managed to tell her.

Jamie moved in on Saturday. I let Mr. Walton know; it was his trailer and so far, mine was the only name on his lease. So, Jamie had to fill out all kind of paperwork and after that, we took a shower together. Moving is hot and sweaty work.

Sunday, I was ready for Jamie to move out. She drank all the orange soda. There had been three cans in there on Saturday morning when we made the first trip to her apartment to get her clothes and Jesus, how many books does she read? And Sunday, at lunch, I went to grab myself an Orange Crush, and nothing. I had to drink her flat root beer.

At the Super Wal-Mart, We grabbed four twelve packs of orange soda and some more stuff. Turned out my Count Chocula is stale; Jamie said she almost broke a tooth on it. And in the cereal aisle, there’s Jamie and Cheryl Martin, doing their weekly grocery shopping. Jamie smiled and called out; Cheryl looked like she’d just smelled a fart or something.

“He’s cute,” Jamie whispered to me as we walked away.

I turned and saw that Jamie was watching us. Jamie was wearing her shorts and half-shirt and her gorgeous ass was hanging out. So, yeah, I bet Jamie was watching us walk away.

He smiled again at me, then Cheryl slapped him, really hard on his arm. God damn, I want to beat the shit out of that bitch. Jesus, Jamie is gorgeous, and she’s got her ass showing so of course your man’s going to look, bitch, just get over it, all right? He’s a man, right?

“What?” Jamie yelled at his wife.

God, just God, God damn it, I can’t believe he married that bitch. I hate her.

“Don’t need be staring at that freckle face slut,” Cheryl screamed at him.

Jamie doesn’t have freckles, and she’s not a slut either, so I don’t know what Cheryl is talking about. I am so ready to beat the snot out of that red headed big boobed cunt. She’s got no reason to hit Jamie; he’s just being a man.

“He’s cute,” Jamie said again as we went to get some milk. “How you know him?”

“Was my boyfriend once,” I choked out.

“Oh. Really?” Jamie said and got real quiet.

After that, Jamie wasn’t talking to me. We did the rest of the shopping with her ignoring me, just pushing the buggy all over the place, trying get our shopping done in double time.

Monday morning, we made breakfast, then, while I cleaned up from breakfast, Jamie got ready. She is so beautiful; she looks good in her beat up old robe, she looks good naked, and she looks good all dressed up and ready for another day at work. While I got dressed, Jamie made lunch for us. I wanted to scream when she grabbed a can of orange soda. But, there’s three more twelve packs in the pantry; I have to let it go. I have to let her have an orange soda.

I dreaded what the day would bring; hopefully there wouldn’t be another day like Friday. I wound up throwing those jeans and work shirt away. I wasn’t about to tear up my washing machine trying get that smell out of them. Thankfully, it was just another day at work. No stupid shit happened; just your everyday regular stuff.

About five weeks after Jamie moved in, Mulligan threw another party; his dad and his dad’s new girlfriend were going up to Maine for a long weekend. I guess Mulligan’s step-mother figured out, if Mulligan’s dad was willing to fuck her while he was married to Mulligan’s baby sister’s mom, he was willing to fuck around on her too. According to Mulligan, it didn’t take her long to catch his dad getting some from one of the strippers down at Follies, a Gentlemen’s Club right off Buford Highway.

Only reason Mulligan invited me was I guess he was hoping he’d get to fuck me again. Jamie wanted to go; she said she wanted to meet my friends. I told her they weren’t really my friends, but we went.

Jamie was there. And Cheryl wasn’t. He is so cute, but he didn’t look real cute right then.

“Cheryl fucking Harris is a God damned slut,” Jamie yelled and I figured he’d been drinking pretty hard.

Gerry Jackson strikes again. God damned asshole picked up another STD, and gave that STD to Cheryl Martin. Really? I was shocked as shit that Cheryl would fuck around when she had Jamie. How could she do that? And with a sleazy ass mother fucker like Gerry Jackson on top of that?

And the sneaky bitch had rented the apartment in her name only. So when Jamie confronted Cheryl about the fucking STD, his ass had to leave, not her.

Mulligan tried to get me into his bedroom. When I wouldn’t go, he tried to get Jamie into his bedroom. She laughed in his face and in Spanish she told him she didn’t have the time to fuck little boys with tiny dicks.

Someone put on some music and Jamie and I started to dance. I wish I was old enough to go clubbing with Jamie; she’s a great dancer. We rubbed all over each other and just let the music move us. It was like fucking her while standing up.

Brian tried handing Jamie and me a drink. I could tell by the look in his eyes that this was a date rape drink and told Jamie not to drink any. Thank God, she could understand my bad Spanish, and Brian could not understand.

“Oh, thank you!” Jamie smiled sweetly at him. “But I’m not really thirsty; why don’t you drink it instead?”

Brian declined and Jamie made a show of pouring out his drink. She then grabbed my drink and held it out to him.

“Drink this, puta gringo mother fucker,” she said, those beautiful eyes real dark and dangerous.

Mulligan made Brian leave. Barry and Nickie followed Brian outside and he tried to run. Both Barry and Nickie beat the shit out of Brian, right there in Mulligan’s front yard. Guess they were pissed they wouldn’t get to fuck Jamie and me. You know what? I’ve never understood what was so great about fucking some poor girl when she’s all passed out and shit. What’s the fun in that?

When Mulligan’s older sister came home, the party was over. By now, Jamie was knee-walking stupid drunk. Jamie had said the medication had done the trick and cleared up that nasty little STD Cheryl gave him. Tonight was the first night he could drink after taking that medication.

I let Jamie drive my car and got the keys out of Jamie’s jeans; fucking skinny jeans are the worst. Digging past his wallet and his cell phone and then finally found them in the back pocket; Jesus, he has got a great ass.

I know where his parents live, but don’t know if Jamie’s staying by there or not. And he was too gone to tell me where to drive him. So, I just drove him to our trailer. By now, he is unconscious and making weird snoring sounds.

“So what we going do with him?” Jamie asked me, real pissed off as we dragged his drunk ass into the trailer.

“I don’t know, but shit! Couldn’t just let him drive like that,” I said.

“So now you going fuck him?” Jamie asked.

“What? Shit, Jamie, look at him. Be lucky he don’t puke all over the place,” I said and she stormed off.

I wanted to go see what the fuck her problem is. Instead, I got him a pillow and blanket. When I got back, I worked his shoes off his feet. There was no way I could ever get those pants off him; it was hard enough getting the keys out. So, I just unzipped his jeans for him. I put on the light for the hall bathroom in case he woke up and needed to pee.

Jamie was in our bedroom. When I came in, she dragged me to our bathroom. In our shower, she jammed me up against the wall, tongue down my throat. Then she pressed Trey Lott to my pussy, and that power mist just had me screaming into her mouth. Little bitch kept that Trey Lott right up against my pussy as she started biting my titties; she even left teeth marks on them.

Pulsing massage was next and I couldn’t even think. Jamie was kissing me hard and kept me pinned up against the shower wall.

She turned off the water and I just sat down on the floor of the tub. Jamie then pushed me on my back and pressed her sweet pussy down, hard, on my face. I licked and fingered her to an orgasm, then wormed two fingers, then three, and then four fingers into her pussy.

“Shit! Now I need take a shower,” Jamie laughed.

After we did shower, we went to bed. I put on a tee shirt and panties, Jamie stretched out nude. If I had a body like hers, I’d be nude all the time too. Even if we did have a drunk guy sleeping on our couch, I’d be naked.

“I love you, you know that?” Jamie said, kissing me.

“I love you too,” I said.

“Yeah?” Jamie asked. “Who you love more? Me? Or Jamie?”

“You,” I said.

But I guess I didn’t say it fast enough. Jamie gave a little huff and rolled on top of me. She pinned my arms down and began tickling me. I screamed and begged her to stop.

“You never going leave me?” she demanded.

“I’d have to be stupid to ever leave you,” I said and I meant every word of that.

“She kissed me again and rolled off of me. Then she put that perfect butt up against me and ordered me to hold her. I rolled over and put my arm over her, squeezing her tight.

I heard the toilet flush. I got up and pulled a pair of shorts on and went and checked on our guest. He looked like shit, hair sticking out, eyes bloodshot. He had wiggled out of those tight jeans and was now in just tee shirt and boxers.

“I, uh, what? Where’d, Debbie?” Jamie stammered, real surprised.

“Coffee?” I quietly asked him.

“God yes,” he said, then gave me this suspicious look. “You not going spit in it, huh?”

“What? Why would I do that?” I asked him.

“Because of the shitty way I just up and dumped you,” he said.

“No, Jamie,” I smiled.

“I am sorry about that, sorry I wasn’t smart enough to see what I had,” he admitted.

Shit. Just. Shit. I’m in love with Jamie. Jamie Martinez. And I’m falling in love with Jamie Martin all over again.

“Jamie, shut up,” I said, real angry.

“What? I didn’t say nothing,” Jamie said, walking into the living room. “You making cinnamon rolls?”

I wanted to kill her. She’d put on a half shirt and a pair of panties. They weren’t thongs, but Jesus, her ass is hanging out and her sweet camel toe is right there. If Jamie wasn’t right there, on the couch, I’d be running my hands all over that beautiful butt, running my fingers up and down that pretty slit of hers.

“Yeah,” I said, getting out the big tin.

When it’s just her and me, one thing of cinnamon rolls is plenty. But with Jamie there on our couch, I knew we’d need to do two tubes.

Jamie and Jamie. I guess I’m going have say ‘Woman Jamie’ when I’m talking to her and ‘Man Jamie’ when I’m talking to him.

“I uh, Hi, so uh, how you know Debbie?” Jamie politely asked Jamie and he tried to wiggle into his tight ass jeans.

“Met her on the train to work,” Jamie answered. “Then, come to find out, we work in the same building.”

“No kidding? Yeah, Debbie, went by that Taco Bell other day, guy said you didn’t work there no more,” Jamie said.

“And saw all that red hair and that beautiful face and ‘Bam!’ just kind of fell in love with her,” Jamie said.

I almost dropped the tin as I was putting it into the oven. Jamie just admitted, to a total stranger, well, kind of a stranger, that me and her, we’re lovers. Then I realized, she was just being nice saying that.

“Yeah, she is beautiful, huh? Oh, hey, hi, I’m Jamie. Jamie Martin,” Jamie said.

“And I’m Jamie,” Jamie said. “Jamie Martinez.”

I set the timer; I don’t know why; usually the smell tells us when the rolls are ready come out. Then we sat down at the table with our coffee. Jamie smiled at me. Man Jamie, that is. Well, Woman Jamie smiled too.

“See you remembered how I like my coffee,” Man Jamie said, and that wiped the smile right off Woman Jamie’s face.

She glared at me. I wondered why she was glaring at me like that.

“How I like my coffee, huh Debbie?” Jamie, Woman Jamie asked me.

“Shit, Jamie, I just fixed it; you tell me. Did I get it right?” I asked her. “Too much cream, too much sugar, right?”

“And what else you remember about him, Debbie?” Woman Jamie asked e.

“Nothing. All right? I don’t remember nothing about him,” I snapped.

“I bet,” was her response.

“Coffee’s good,” Man Jamie just had to say, fanning the flames of Woman Jamie’s pissed off attitude.

“Just like you like it?” Woman Jamie asked him.

The timer went off. I got up and Woman Jamie shoved me, hard into my seat. She then jerked open the oven and almost reached in there, bare handed.

“Jamie, no!” I yelled, grabbing her. “You crazy?”

“Fuck you! You the one’s crazy,” Woman Jamie screamed at me and pushed me, hard.

She ran out of the kitchen and slammed the door of our bedroom. I got the oven mitt on and pulled out the cinnamon rolls. Slowly, I covered each roll with the orange zest icing, making sure to leave some icing in the second little cup.

“Jamie! They’re ready,” I called out, putting three of the big, gooey rolls onto a small plate.

She didn’t answer. Man Jamie and I ate three rolls each. I struggled to finish the third roll, so told Man Jamie he could have the last roll. And of course, that’s right when Woman Jamie decided to come back into the kitchen.

“What? Why he gets the last roll?” Woman Jamie demanded.

“Shut up. Jesus! We usually only get two, maybe two and a half. You want four? Fine, Jamie, give her that last one,” I screamed at Woman Jamie.

I shoved that last bit of icing at her and told her she could have that too. Now it was my turn to slam the bedroom door shut.

“He’s gone now,” Jamie said, waking me from my nap.

“So?” I snapped; I was still pretty pissed off at her.

Yeah, I used to date Jamie, Man Jamie, but shit, that was like last year. It was long before I met her. She had no reason to be such a psychotic, fucked up bitch about the whole thing.

“I brought the icing,” Jamie whispered into my ear.

I tried to slap her face over my shoulder. She was too quick for me.

“So?” I snapped again.

“So, maybe we can…” Jamie said, reaching around and pinching my nipple.

“So maybe you can eat it yourself,” I snapped and slapped her hand off my tit.

“Okay,” Jamie said, walking around to the other side of the bed.

She pulled that stupid tee shirt off and those beautiful titties of hers bounced. Her dark nipples were hard as bullets; they stuck straight out at me. Jamie stuck her finger into the little cup and smeared some light orange icing onto one of her nipples. Then she stretched her boob out and bent her head and licked her own nipple. I wet my shorts watching her doing this shit. I know the little bitch knew exactly what she was doing to me.

“Here, you want some?” Jamie whispered, coating her other nipple with a big smear of the icing.

I walked on my knees across our bed to where she was standing and glued my mouth to her sticky nipple. After I sucked all that sweet orange icing off her nip, I jammed my tongue down her throat. I pushed her panties down, damn, how’d she ever get them tight ass panties on in the first place? It took about two seconds to finger fuck her to an orgasm.

We showered together, Trey Lott got both of us clean. Somewhere after lunch, Jamie wanted all the details about Man Jamie, what we had done. After I finished telling her about how he just up and dumped me for that big titted bitch, Cheryl Harris, Jamie looked at me.

“He do that shit and you still in love with him?” she asked me, those gorgeous eyes real dark and mean.

“I am not in love with him; Jamie, Jesus! I am not in love with him,” I screamed; I am just so damned tired of this shit.

“Yeah you are,” Jamie said and again, my bedroom door got slammed.

The next day was some kind of bullshit holiday like National Nothing Day. In other words, Jamie had the day off, with pay, but I had to go in. Why? Because not everyone takes off for National Nothing Day, and also, if the building’s pretty empty, we can catch up on all the stuff we need to catch up on.

Mr. Gaylord had me do an inventory of all our stuff. Then he had me try out all the tools. He smiled real wide when I pointed out we might want get some better cordless drills; the B&D one had a cracked handle and the battery wasn’t holding a charge worth a crap. And the power snake was so slow, even on full.

“Why I had you do that,” Mr. Gaylord admitted. “See, them other yo-yos? They think they’ll just use the good one so it don’t matter.”

“Uh huh, and what happens when the good one breaks? Then you got nothing,” I said.

“I knew it was a good idea hire you,” Mr. Gaylord said.

And right after lunch, Jamie blew my cell phone up. She sent like a hundred text messages, telling me I better get my ass home. Now. She wouldn’t tell me what the problem was, just that I needed to get my ass home. Like ten minutes ago.

Mr. Gaylord said I could go if it was an emergency. I told him, if it was a real emergency, Jamie would have told me what the problem was. I didn’t have time to run home just because she was having some issues.

He dug his cell phone out and held it out to me. I took it and looked at him.

“Hit number one on there and when Jill answers? You tell her that, okay?” Mr. Gaylord laughed. “See? I tell her that? Don’t mean shit. Maybe she hears it from another woman, might believe me when I tell her I can’t just drop every damned thing just because her sister’s latest drug addict boyfriend beat her up, or her damned momma’s toilet won’t quit running, or her nephew just came out of the closet, God, like there was ever any closet big enough hold that boy? Or…”

“Mr. Gaylord, I got enough my own shit deal with,” I laughed, giving him his cell phone.

“You coming?” Jamie demanded and I told her I wasn’t; I’m at work.

When I did get home, I saw what the problem was before I even got out my car. Jamie’s car was in front of our trailer. Apparently, since the text messages had started right after lunch, Jamie also had National Nothing Day off from his job. But why he was here, at our trailer, I didn’t have a clue.

I could smell dinner as I opened the door. Jamie really isn’t a very good cook. She overcooks almost everything, except for chicken. She puts way too much salt and too much sugar on everything, even stuff don’t need sugar. And Jamie was helping her. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I don’t remember ever eating anything he’s cooked.

“All right. I’m home. What the Hell is so damned urgent?” I snapped at her.

“After dinner; you hungry? This gringo, he fucking everything all up,” Jamie said.

“I call you a spic? Huh? I call you a wet back? No? Then don’t be calling me a gringo,” Jamie told her.

I braced for the explosion. I knew ‘spic’ and ‘wet back’ to a Latina was like calling a black girl a nigger.

“Fuck you, fucking gringo,” Jamie said easily. “No, no, you using too much garlic powder.”

“It’ll cover up all the salt you used,” Jamie explained.

“What the hell is going on here?” I wondered as I went to our room to change.

Jamie followed me to our room and slammed the door shut. She grabbed me by my arms and shoved me, hard against the closet door.

“What he is doing here?” she snarled, beautiful face millimeters from mine.

“Fuck, I don’t know! Jesus, I just got home, Jamie,” I yelled.

“You don’t yell,” she ordered, clamping her hand over my mouth.

“I just got home, Jamie. You the one let him in here,” I pointed out.

“What? I’m going be rude to your friend?” Jamie asked.

“God, Jamie, please. I didn’t invite him here. I didn’t let him in. But somehow, this is all my fault?” I whined.

Over dinner, over country fried steaks with rice and milk gravy, which did have way too much salt and way too much garlic powder, Jamie admitted that he’d been couch surfing ever since leaving Cheryl. His dad lived in Louisiana; Jamie didn’t want to move to Shreveport, Louisiana and Jamie’s mom’s husband, Jamie’s step-father told Jamie there was no room at their house for him.

“Mother fucker told me I just needed grow up,” Jamie said bitterly.

“Well, he is fucking your mother, so, you’re right, he is a mother fucker,” Jamie giggled.

“So…” I asked, dreading the question that was sure to come.

“But he is right about one thing,” Jamie said, swallowing his mouthful of food. “I do kind of need grow up a bit. Went to Rhonda, told her don’t do direct deposit; Cheryl already cleaned out our accounts. And told them, my name is James Martin, not Jamie. Jamie’s what my mom calls me. That’s a little boy’s name.”

“Hey, I look like little boy to you?” Jamie asked, waggling her boobs at him.

“Kind of,” Jamie, sorry, James teased.

“Fucking gringo’s blind too,” Jamie told me.

“Anyway, Sabrina, remember her?” James said.

“Yeah, I stayed with her when I first got out my momma’s house,” I said.

“Wanted three hundred a week, for a couch,” James said.

“Yep, sounds like her,” I said.

“Three hundred? A week?” Jamie asked.

“No, Jamie. We’re not doing that,” I said.

We, Jamie and James agreed on four hundred a month. And he would have his own room, not our couch. Me? I kept my mouth shut. No way was Jamie going come after me, claiming I’m the one wanted James here. No way was I going give her any reason scream at me that I was still in love with James.

She was dripping wet by the time we went to bed. I don’t know if it was the fact that James would be paying our monthly bills, the fact that James could hear us, or maybe, deep down, Jamie was as attracted to James as I was.

I don’t know what had her so excited, but Jamie was excited. And she was loud. I mean, she’s not quiet, we’re not quiet when we make love, but tonight, Jamie Martinez was a screamer.

And honestly? It had me pretty excited too. I love making love with Jamie. I love pleasuring her. I licked and sucked her pretty little pussy until she came, squirting her juice all over my face. Then I rode her face until I came with a scream. Really, by the time we finished? I was almost too tired to shower.

The next day, James left first. He was wearing khakis and a pull over shirt, and he looked good. He has a nice backside and I did look at it when he left. I caught Jamie looking at his butt too.

This morning, she was wearing this black lace top; you could see her titties right through the thing. Her panties were a thong, showing off her perfect ass. The way she was acting, I guess I should be happy she’s wearing anything at all.

“Need to get ready,” she said and I watched that pretty ass wiggle away as she went to our room to dress for work.

We rode to the Doraville station. Jamie casually mentioned that James worked near Peachtree Corners; maybe we should start catching the train there and that way? James could drop us off in the morning and there were two busses that stopped close to our trailer.

I didn’t say a word. Anything I said would just lead to some kind of misunderstanding.

That accounting firm again had a toilet back up. And they didn’t let us know until four thirty. It took me almost an hour to get whatever it was to clear; I won’t tell you what it was, but let me tell you, there are some nasty people in this world.

And when I made it home, Jamie and James were on the couch, making out. His pants were unzipped and his hard dick was sticking out, all shiny and wet. Jamie’s dress was on the floor, leaving her in just panties.

“So, what’s for dinner?” I asked, slamming the door.

Jamie screamed and ran from the room. James tried to zip his khakis, but his fat dick was making that impossible.

“There’s a frozen pizza in the freezer,” I said to James. “Just follow the directions, okay?”