Chapter 3 – *X off my Ex*
I met Frank when he was buying X off my ex. Me and Gino had been doing the off and on for about two years, but it was obvious we weren’t going anywhere. Probably the main reason we were still together at that point was because I disliked working more than I disliked fucking him. That’s not fair. He was funny and usually even tempered so I mostly enjoyed his company, but whatever it was we had ended the day Frank Geddis walked into Gino’s apartment looking to score, all big dick energy and youthful swagger.
You could tell right off that he didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, but in spite of that he seemed sharp for a boy his age. Quick and articulate, which you don’t see a lot of in these parts. Only, I wasn’t interested in his mind just then. You ever meet someone and right away just know that this person matters in your life? I swear if I had had a tail, it woulda been waggin.
He was all formal and awkward like he was raised home school or in a cult or whatever. Insisted on shaking hands. But when he took my dainty little lady hand in his big ‘ol bear paw and said, “Frank Geddis,” all deep and earnest like we was in a business meeting, I felt a flutter in my belly like I was thirteen again in the back seat of the family mini van with my uncle’s hand sliding up the inside of my cut offs.
G got the okay on him through another customer, but just to make sure he was cool offered him a rip. Even though it’s totally legal for a nark to do drugs and all, Gino was convinced he could tell who was cool or not by how they took a bong hit. Only the idiot waited until after they had transacted. What made it worse was that Frank accepted, but then hit it like an eighth grader at his first basement party and starts gacking up a lung. So of course G is instantly paranoid, but I can tell that Frank is a noob and not a nark because a nark wouldn’t be that clueless.
I step in and help the hacking giant into the kitchen to get him a soda and maybe chat him up a little. After he calms down a bit he tells me that he works for a landscaper which is obvious from the farmer’s tan and the slightly racist Gringo Brothers Landscaping t-shirt he had on, but that he’s going to be a roughneck once he makes the right contacts, etc.
He’s self involved as you might expect from a boy his age. I pretend to care about what he’s saying while I fucked him with my eyes and made a note of the URL on his shirt.
I do this thing when I want to get a boy’s attention where I pretend I spilled something on my shirt and cup a titty as I dab at it with a cloth, make sure they know what I’m working with. I look up while I’m doing it all innocent like it just occurred to me that he might have noticed, and boy howdy, had he. But he doesn’t blush or look away like most boys would when you catch ‘em bein a pervert. He just smiles like he sees through me, and he likes what he sees. Well shit if I wasn’t the one to blush, then.
I feel certain he’s picked up on what I was laying down so we head back to the den where Gino is trying and failing to look chill. But Frank doesn’t seem to notice or care. He decides to jet and Gino asks him all tough what he’s running off for all of a sudden, sounding for all the world like a bad actor reading the line written for: *Nervous Drug Dealer* *#2* on an episode of *Law and Order CSI* or some shit. I’d never felt more embarrassed for him.
Without missing a beat Frank says, “I got to get new batteries for my mom’s vibrator,” And then winks at me on the way out. *Spa-looosh!*
Don’t know if I love darkness in men or just hate being bored. Back when I was young and stupid I dated a guy I thought was ‘nice’ because he was popular and he had a good family and all. When push came to shove it turned out he wasn’t so nice. I ended up paying for my first abortion with my baby sitting money after the asshole claimed it wasn’t his. Who’s to say? I was such a tramp back then.
In fact the more men I dated the more it became abundantly clear that nice is only nice up to a point. I’d rather be with the guy who knows the world ain’t pretty. More orgasms, fewer surprises.
A few days later I called the number from the website and told one of the Gringo Brothers that I was Frank’s elder sister which was pretty funny because me and Frank kinda look like we’re related. Same dirty blond sun-bleached hair, and something about our faces makes it seem like our ancestors used to fuck.
I said I was picking him up from work today because I needed his help taking Nana to the doctor to have her anal glands expressed which is really a dog thing, but I find people are more pliant when you make them uncomfortable.
I showed up at the address they gave me mid afternoon in my cute little convertible wearing a cute little halter top I happen to know brings all the boys to my yard. And because I don’t fight fair – a cold sixer on ice in the back. Well, five anyway. As this was not my first rodeo I had one in a coozy nestled suggestively between my thighs.
I pulled up to the curb in front of a swanky home already seeing some landscapers scattered about wearing the Gringo colors. As I pulled to a stop, from around the corner of the house comes big Frank all shirtless and muscley scooting over the lawn on this stand up riding mower like some Greek charioteer. He glances at me and looks away as he’s flying by and then does a classic double take when he realizes it’s me. He drives the mower in a big loop ruining the neat pattern he had been cutting into the grass and kills the engine near my car.
Because some other boys were in earshot I yell, “Hey bro, did you forget that you promised to help me take Nana for her appointment today?”
His grin grew even wider. “Oh shit! That’s right! I totally forgot!”
Did I tell you the boy was quick?
He bounds off the machine and strides over, leans on my side of the car to where he can see the beer between my thighs.
“How bout a beer, bro?”
It was all pretty thirsty of me but Frank didn’t seem to mind. I think it made total sense to him that a ravishing thirty-something cougar would pursue him because of course they would. It was obvious the boy had talent, if you catch my drift.
He smiled again, pulled his t-shirt from under his belt and slipped it on over his big ‘ol shoulders while mentally I was making that noise that Homer Simpson makes when he sees donuts. Then he waves bye bye to the other Gringo boys who ironically were all Mexicans it looked like, and strides around to the passenger side and gets in. I feel my little Cooper settle under his weight and have an erotic vision of being crushed beneath him.
He smelled powerfully of sweat, cut grass, and gasoline. We just sit there grinning like idiots at each other without speaking for a few seconds and it’s like we know exactly what each other was thinking because, well duh.
He leaned over bringing his face close to mine and my lips part expecting a kiss when I feel him reach between my legs and grab the beer. The smile is now a smirk as he leaned back in his seat and drained it. He plucked the empty from the coozy and dropped it into the cooler in back while grabbing a reload. He twisted off the cap and took another pull before stuffing it back where he found it between my legs, and this time he kisses me good.
You know how your stomach floats for a few seconds when you drive super fast over the top of a hill? It was like that. When he was done I noticed that my bathing suit area had dampened considerably.
The Mexican Gringos had walked closer to my car while this was happening and surprised us both by cheering and hooting nasty shit in Mexican when they saw how American boys treated their sisters. We laughed and waved and I pulled away from that house feeling like I was setting off on a great adventure.
Let me tell you, that boy was full of surprises. Didn’t even ask me if he could or anything – Just leaned over again and started running a hand over my tits so that anyone could see. I acted like I was shocked, but I didn’t stop him. I’ve always been more than a bit of an exhibitionist. I don’t think it was a coincidence that the car in the lane next to us rear ended the car in front of him when our lane advanced. Sorry, bud!
Sensing he had the green light he moved the beer from between my thighs to the console. He slipped his hand up under my loose shorts and shoved two meaty fingers into my dripping puss like he was raised by wolves or something – starts blasting away.
My feet abandoned the peddles as I opened my legs to accommodate him. He had me cumin in about fifteen seconds while I steered the coasting car through a complicated intersection by the mall. It’s a miracle we didn’t crash. Then Frank leans back in his seat all smug and self satisfied smelling his fingers while I’m gasping for breath and quaking from aftershocks. Holy. Shit.
After that first big O in the car I had intended to have myself a quick shower at home before I let him have it, but he had other ideas. When we got back to my apartment he followed me inside and had me right there on the floor of the den with the front door still wide open and me screaming like I’m being murdered.
When he pulled me down I laughed a little to keep it light and pushed back at him because I still had some notion about guiding events that afternoon. Uh, nope. I was a leaf in a storm.
If I hadn’t already made it clear that I was DTF then I would call what he did to me rape. I must have said ‘wait’ twenty times to slow him down, but it was like holding back the tide. He yanked off my shorts and my top while I sort of tried to stop him. Then he lifted my ass off the floor by ripping my panties off of me instead of sliding them down my legs like a person who wasn’t raping somebody.
I had a moment of genuine fear when he dropped trou as I was not not entirely sure I was ready to have my guts rearranged. Jesus, Lord, did I mention the boy was talented? Turns out, after the initial shock of penetration, it fits just fine.
I have polished the bean countless times over the years fantasizing about a man taking me the way he did that afternoon. Most boys his age are eager to please, but don’t last. Not Frank. He held me down and pounded me with that monster until I thought I was going to pass out from cumming. Then he flipped me over and pinned my arms behind my back while he gave me some more. I was pretty sure he nutted at least once in me without slowing down. Swear to God, it was the best fuck of my life. I resolved then and there to hang on to that dick.
But the hard truth about Frank is – he ain’t right. I’ve seen more empathy in lawnmowers. It’s fine I guess, because we understand each other. Some shit happened to him when he was younger that he doesn’t like to talk about, so now it’s like he’s raping life. He has big appetites and big dreams and maybe enough smarts to make something happen. He certainly has the balls.
We are both of us crazy in our own ways, but neither of us is soft or stupid. The role I have gladly taken in his world is as facilitator of his appetites and ambitions. Not exactly a traditional romance or anything. More like game recognizing game. Fortunately, we both have what you might call high libidos, and the Venn diagram of our kinks has a healthy overlap as well so it’s been better than good so far. Though we are both doms by nature, I will happily surrender to a man who can make me take it like Big Frank.
But we both enjoy having a sub to focus on.
I’m bi, and neither one of us feels anything like jealousy, so the world is our oyster when it comes to luring submissive women into bed with us. It is our policy to get them on camera up front saying they want what we are about to do to them, but that’s before they really understand what we are about to do to them. Safety word my ass. Nothing gets me off harder than making them cum while they’re crying.
We are constantly on the prowl for new partners because not many are brave enough to surrender to us more than once. We find them in bars, at the gym, online, at the grocery store, etc. We both have serious game and we love the challenge of seducing BDSM virgins of any age. The straighter the better.
Sometimes we pretend we are brother and sister who are playfully competing for a girl’s number. It is amazing how many girls love the idea of being the centerpiece of an incestuous love triangle. Whether they ultimately want me or him, they are always flattered by our attention because we are both good looking by anyone’s standards. Just saying. We make them feel special.
Frank still lives with his mom when he’s not at mine, which I suppose is fine at his age. Apparently his dad passed not long ago which he isn’t overly emotional about. Good thing is, between insurance and investments and whatnot the woman doesn’t have to work anymore so lucky her. On the other hand, I suspect things are pretty weird at home.
He’s shown me some pictures of his “Little Fucktoy;” and the nick name fits. His mom is a hunny. Reminds me of a silent film star from back in the day. She could stand to hit the gym, but that bod is built for banging. He tells me that she is his slave, and I don’t know if that means literally or he just bosses her around a lot. I do know that the boy has some serious anger issues in the family department, so he’s probably definitely fucking her. If he treats her anything like the sluts we fuck together then I’m more than a little excited to see what that looks like.
Yesterday he texted that he was sleeping at his mom’s but that he had a surprise for me if I wanted to come over in the morning, which I’m pretty certain means that I’m finally going to meet her, and stuff. I was so excited I couldn’t fall asleep last night until I got myself off a few times fantasizing about what we might do with her. His mom! Holy. Shit. We are totally going to rape that lady today!
Oh shit! That’s him calling on the phone! Stay tuned!
Chapter 4
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rsdsf7/owned_chapter_three_a_lonely_mom_learns_to_love