PART ONE h – The Third Date

  He looked at me funny, but he did walk over. I could see on his face, he was a little… scared, but not of getting hurt. He was a little bewildered. Which I can understand, how much his life had changed in one day and night. Hell, I just told him I allowed him to marry me, but only after we both graduated and got careers going and settled into somewhere. And followed it up with the fact, I would probably just tell him it was time.

  "Will you do me a favor? It won't hurt. Mommy promises. If you want hurt? Just ask. But, this won't hurt."

  "What."

  "Kneel. Hands on my ankles, face where you know it goes. Please."

  He looked at me, then did it.

  "Just kiss the tops of my feet like you do. Go on. Now give the tops, where you just smelled? A few licks and quit. Just for a little bit… then? I want you to smell my ankles. I have zero perfume on. I know it sounds nuts, but… smell my ankles. Do one, then the other. Okay, good. Couple little licks, nothing major. Now do both my wrists. Smell both, then the little licks. Good boy. Now? Do mommy's tummy. Yeah… now stand up. Do my neck. Bury your nose in it. Deep inhales… okay. Now a little lick there… ooh, that tickles. Okay. You're done."

  "I'm done with…"

  "You? Are done. I'm about to freak you out, so… just take it in stride. Okay?"

  "All right."

  "Where do you live?"

  "I have my own pce."

  "The pce you refuse to invite me to."

  "I… have, its complicated."

  "I know where you live. You? To save money, live in the basement of a party house, basically. Three nights a week, you can't sleep until after 3:00 or 4:00 am. You? Hose the basement and mop it after parties, and take the garbage cans out and rinse them out. Hose a few other things off. You have a cot, in a dirt floor… hole in the back. You're handy. You fix stuff around this party house. You pay the water bill, and the few chores you do so you get otherwise free rent. To live in a dirt floor hole."

  "Go on and make fun of me."

  "I'm not. You're on the GI bill. Tuition, books and fees are paid, you get very little per month extra. You have a cell phone bill, and what's left over, goes to cheap food. You're a fitness nut, so, probably healthy shit that's cheap. Chicken, rice, beans…"

  "Are you a burgr too?"

  "No. You own a street motorcycle, that you work on yourself. That's how you get around, and you live a couple blocks from campus. Tell me, where do you shower?"

  "If you know so much…"

  "You shower at the gym. You'll do something to work out every day, and what the hell, grab a shower every night while you're at it. Where do you go to the bathroom, when the door to the basement is locked te at night?"

  "You're not making fun of me though."

  "No. You wouldn't happen to decide to buy a… cheap pack of gum, and use the bathroom at the convenience store gas station, would you? You're pretty regur."

  "You… are…"

  "Oh. You're not freaked out yet. But you will be. When we go home? It will make perfect sense, to come and see my apartment. I'll offer you dinner, a movie. Hell. Might as well stay over. What would it hurt. Oh, it won't hurt a bit, I promise. No secret stuff there, remember. When you wake up, or that night, whichever. I'll show you the shower and tub in the upstairs bathroom. Kinda nice. Have you ever been inside, a townhouse in the Vilge? Not bad. The rich kids live there, remember."

  "Okay. My… new girlfriend would like me to stay over. See her pce. Meet her room mates."

  "Why wouldn't you."

  "I guess I would."

  "Right. Why not just sleep with me, more and more. I know I want you to do it. Why wouldn't you. I think, as a workout health nut? You'll find, that our groceries? Are… pnned. We're athletes on schorships, dear. We're starting pyers. For a big university, that's this close to a championship every year, but we just miss it. We're close. We can't afford to get fat. Coach has some… dietitian asshole, up our ass. People are always measuring our body fat. Calories, percentage of protein. Body mass index. Once a month, we have to get the tank of water, percentage of body fat thingy. Food's provided, so we'll eat healthy food. Brown rice. Chicken. Beans. Vegetables. Fruit. There's plenty. Would you turn down a free meal? Any night you want. Would you turn down a nice bed, with… me in it? Hmm. Wait till you see the luxury shower, the rich parents pay for them to have. You'll never wanna shower with men in the gym again. You'll be showering, or in the big tub… with me."

  He just stared at me.

  "Laundromat? Why. We have a washer and dryer. Brand new, came with the townhouse. Why not use it. We don't pay utilities. No one can tell college athletes on schorships, they can't have a lover sleep over. Can't have cranky starting athletes. Have you ever seen the little cock tramps, that stay for weeks at a time, with whatever football pyer they happen to be sucking off that week? You, are mine. I, am the female version, of the football jock. You? Are my little tramp. Its done. Get used to it. You? Are my property."

  "You're crazy."

  "Don't freak out, but, two of the room mates? Girls that turned you down. The one, you were asking her out for coffee about once a week. For a while."

  "Will she give you a problem…"

  "Oh no. I'm there the longest. Me and the coach? Well… I expined to you, I… handle a few things for him, off the books so to speak. I'll always be head of household. He calls me the only adult on the team. Go figure."

  "She won't…"

  "If she gives you any shit? I'll have a nice little girl talk with her. It won't happen twice. I just have a way with the girls. Me? I can't wait. Oh boy, when I get home from practice, and we take a shower together then we use the tub… would you have a huge problem putting your hands on me, when I ask so sweet. Man, when they find out I'm getting a back rub, a leg rub… soccer spikes kill us, I'm gonna brag about the foot rub in the tub. Smell my neck again, look at my legs… and ask yourself. This girl, wants my hands on her. Huh. Sounds like a good deal."

  "You…"

  "What. You'll be practically moved in, before the month is out."

  "I'm not saying yes… but what's the catch…"

  "If mommy asked you very nice, would you take the garbage out, not when I tell you, when I ask you to?"

  "Uh…"

  "You offer to carry heavy things, for any tall strong female athlete you see. I can't imagine you wouldn't do it for me."

  "Well…"

  "Dishes. How hard would it be. For me to find some way, to convince you to do dishes. Once a night, we're talking five minutes of work. There's a brand new fucking dishwasher. I live with three zy whores, that can't take out the garbage, and load and unload the dishwasher. No one can understand that if you wipe the kitchen down once a night, it takes literally one minute, if that. Instead, they let it go for weeks. Until we have to chisel god knows what off the wall. Their rooms? The one, has used condoms thrown around. They bring home the absolute dregs, I swear. Can't drag the garbage out though."

  "You want a maid…"

  "Do I? Five minutes a night, tops. Garbage, dishwasher, not washing and drying dishes. Dishwasher. About it. Way less work, way less disgusting, no water bill to pay."

  "I suppose you want me to clean the bathroom…"

  "Actually? Its all stainless and ceramic tile. The floor, the walls, you spray this… hose with foam in it around, whenever it needs it. Hit the button, spray water out of it. Walk out and go to css. When you get back? The heat mp has it dry and sterilized. Its… one minute a week. I do that, the three zy whores can't be bothered. You press this red button, it starts a timer, the heat mps dry and sterilize everything."

  "Who cleans up everything."

  "Oh. That's my job. Naturally, the three zy whores can't throw anything away. They just drop it wherever they're done with it. I've never seen such zy pieces of shit, in my life. Yeah, I pick shit up and throw it away. You take out the garbage, we're done. Basically the living room and the kitchen? Are the only common areas. You wouldn't wanna go in their rooms anyways. It looks like a bomb went off. I wasn't kidding, the one? Has used condoms thrown around. Guys go in there, and fuck her. I can't believe it. Would you wanna fuck me a second time, if you were stepping on used condoms, and some other guy's two week old load squirted out on your foot? Yuck. Wait till you see my room. Looks like something in a magazine. I put things away. Its like a magic act."

  "You're serious."

  "When I left for this date? The three zy whores know, I went on two dates and came home happy. They're making jokes, they can't wait for me to get id. Apparently, I'm an insufferable cunt because I expect… well. They're giving high fives to each other, counting down until I get, you know."

  He started chuckling.

  "As I left, I said don't wait up. Its the off season, no camps to run for a while. I said you'll be lucky to see me by Sunday, and if its longer, don't call the police. On the way out, I said don't be surprised when I get id, have a new steady boyfriend that's crazy about me, and I move him in and start getting back rubs."

  "They said?"

  "Lazy whore number one high fives zy whore number three, and number two did her little dance she does when she scores a goal. Apparently, if I'm getting bent over regurly, I'll be perhaps slightly less of an insufferable cunt? Their pns, anyways. Oh, wait till you see their rooms. I'll show you their pigsty's they wallow with drunken reprobates in when they find them, and that'll be the st time you better ever set foot in any of those three rooms. Now, help me out here, I'm losing track. If I find you set foot in any of those three bedrooms, what was it? I fool you into sexy time, then whip the ever loving shit out of you, like… tonight will seem like a fucking picnic. I forget."

  "No. You said you buy me pizza if that happens. I remember. You insuff---"

  I just gave him a look, and he quit.

  "I'm just kidding. I swear."

  "I know. Why did you shut up so quick."

  "You didn't wink first."

  "Good answer. But seriously. Within the month? Yeah. The three zy whores were saying that if anyone, how did they put this as delicately as they phrase everything else… oh yes. Whoever agrees to start pity fucking me, they're pitching in to buy them pizza, to pay them for services rendered. I don't know if they're kidding or not. I told them I'm dragging my new steady boyfriend home, so they can see what someone without a criminal record looks like."

  "You're not kidding."

  "Serious as a heart attack. Come, stay for a few nights. Tell me why you wouldn't wanna just stay. You… want a back rub when you get home from the gym? Done. You wouldn't like that? Seriously, this is up against what. You can continue paying the water bill, for a toilet and shower you aren't allowed to use. Cleaning up stale beer and rancid piss. Walking two blocks every time you need to take a shit. Showering with men at the gym. Paying for undry. Buying food. Where's the contest? As I said. Mate in three."

  "You… anything else you pnned out? I wanna know my schedule."

  "Do we wanna stay there just till we graduate, or should we both go to graduate school. Same deal, except the school will pay you a small sary to teach undergraduate introductory courses in Computer Science. I say that, because I hardly see you agreeing to live in the dorm riding herd over 60 dorm room inhabitants for your job. No, you'll teach a couple csses and do that. I'll be offered a sary on top of my schorship, if I agree to stay and py another two years. Coaches assistant, for starting pyers they recruit to stay. Look at it this way. You have no bills, you're basically fucking the female quarterback, and… you don't have to fear marriage for another two or three years, and probably years more for grad school to be over. I mean, we just had our third date, so don't worry. I wont be cracking the whip on you to buy mommy a ring for years."

  "You're sure about that."

  "Barring anything unforeseen, who else would you go off with, after we're finally done with school. Yeah. You're going to dump me, pick up with some lying tramp tending bar or waiting tables, some worthless untrustworthy single mommy. With two kids to two different useless fuck-wits. Who you'll have to deal with, because her bastard children ensure those pieces of shit have visitation. She will do to you what the other girls do. The sex will run out, within, oh, 3 to 9 months. She'll go out and start blowing a bad boy who just got out of prison, who gave her vaginal tingles because I love bad boys, tee hee! You? Will be at home watching the bastards some criminal fathered, while she's out getting pregnant to the third one. You will either watch that third one while she goes out whoring around, or… what the fuck, she probably won't even give you the special treats I give you, which you're hooked on, because you have the same compulsion I do."

  "And what crazy shit are you gonna pull?"

  "You have a couple years to find out. Maybe a couple more if we do grad school."

  "Won't the three zy whores keep me up te, with their criminal boyfriends?"

  "Oh. If they stay up past quiet hours and make noise? I have the keys to the basement, remember. I go down and pop the breakers on their rooms and the living room. Party's over. The coach likes the team to have a few hours sleep? I'm the adult. Remember, I'm the insufferable cunt."

  "Why does the coach put up with…"

  "Oh. You mean what endearing qualities do the three zy whores bring to the table? Uh. I'm riding herd on those three, that's the best starting line we've had in years, coach says. That's the starting center and the two front wings. They're great, on the field. And in practice. They do usually manage to bring in the required 2.5 minimum GPA to keep their schorship, majoring in basically basket weaving."

  "This, is supposed to take you to the championship?"

  "It actually might. You should see them py, really. Now, if one of them gets pregnant? I swear to god, I'll rip the little bastard fathered by god knows who out of the very womb and flush it down the toilet myself."

  "I know you're kidding."

  "I am. How much trouble would I get in, if I dropped morning after pills in their coffee, every time they got railed by some loser. Is that even a crime?"

  "Should be a public service."

  "I know, right. Yeah. There's one of me, in every Vilge townhouse."

  "An… IC."

  "Hmm. That? Actually funny. Now dear."

  "Yes?"

  "You were expining to me, something about your… free will?"

  "My illusion of free will, actually. And what do you get out of this?"

  "I get a boyfriend, that meets all my criteria for one, as far as I can see. Then, because you have a thing, for tall, strong female athletes? You undoubtedly grant me this… higher 1 to 10 scale rating, than I would normally get. That? Makes me look, as you say, gorgeous to you. And I'm fttered really. I don't normally feel… beautiful, and… that's how you make me feel, the way you stare at me."

  "I don't understand, men aren't…"

  "Dear? You said you used to like women's Olympics. So, you're sitting there, with buddies, flipping channels. You stop on women's Olympics. You, are… what?"

  "Drooling…"

  "Right. And your buddies, they wanna change the channel."

  "Yeah."

  "What do they say about, whatever girl you're drooling over."

  "Oh, I get the shits. I'm used to it."

  "But what do they say."

  "I… don't wanna… are you gonna count to three?"

  "Just tell me. I bet I can guess."

  "Then guess."

  I put the joke male voice on.

  "Whoa dude, what the fuck. Her face, her hair, okay… I give you that, she's… average or better pretty, but… those muscles are… you're borderline gay, dude, what the fuck. She looks stronger than you, ha ha ha. Then? Her height, weight, age and reach fsh up on the stats, they shit themselves… then they see her warming up, those muscles start flexing, the other guy says… whoa, you say that shit to her face? She can kick your head off your shoulders. First one now says… dude… let's say you met her, she even wants to fuck you? She's raping you. Its not sex."

  "I heard that one."

  "And its you. What's your witty comeback."

  "And I would let her."

  "Hmm. And I like the sound of that, trust me, little boy. I do. You see, dear. I know what men say about women like me. Been in the room and heard it. Not like we don't occasionally hang out with the guy jocks, you know. The guys that do date us? A lot of them, seems like just something until a regur sized girl comes along. An amazon? Just a novelty to try out. Like, the guy that'll bang a bck chick, something to try. You… make me feel…"

  "Gorgeous. Then they call me… almost gay, and make jokes."

  "Now honey? Imagine someone was magically there. You were 17. Said… son? I'm going to give you these here magic beans to eat. You eat them. And when you wake up? One of those… will be yours."

  "Who do I have to kill. Point at him."

  "See honey? I called it. Mate in three. Now, what did those boys, give that girl on the screen. 1 to 10…"

  "Oh. They're like, covering her body up with their hand, hair and face, but then the body… they say, like 4, 5."

  "Right. And what did you give her."

  "Oh. Like 8, to a 9. See, there was this one in the back, she's up a couple ter… she's the ten."

  "Little better face, hair done up? Let me guess. There's something more feminine, you can't put your finger on it. The veins in her legs? They're cuter…"

  "Uh… yeah…"

  "I've read about all this. Honey, I'm well aware, trust me. People think I'm too tall, and a little bit chubby. In jeans and a T shirt. And? You were still staring at me when we met. You were already…"

  "Drooling."

  I blushed.

  "Thank you. Okay, drooling. I was dying to show you what I really look like, because… I'm not fat. Those chubby legs and butt? I'm about all muscle."

  "And I about had a heart attack. I… don't know how I got like this. I read comic books as a kid, and maybe the women the way they draw them? Those legs, those abs. When I took the blindfold off, and clicked on the fshlight… its like those artists, were drawing… you."

  "Other men give me what. 4, 5? Oh, I get a notation. Could be higher, but the height, and the muscles, that's dragging it down. Then a guy like you comes along… I know I'm not a 10 by any stretch, but…"

  "Easy 8, 9. But then you have other qualities. You've got this cool, guy personality, tomboy thing…"

  "Told you, I grew up pying tackle football with boys, riding dirt bikes with them. In case you're wondering, the university did a study on female athletes, the ones tall and strong, like me? Among other things, testosterone study. There's a lot of misconceptions. For instance. Very few of us big girls like me? We don't have high testosterone, that's an urban myth. The ones that do? That's… that dyke look. They… they don't have cute faces, cute hands. They have man feet. Ugh."

  "Oh, I know what you mean. Someone took a bull dyke, and ran her ass on a treadmill until she could jog. Ugh…"

  "There's absolutely nothing wrong with me, dear. My hormones are normal. I swear, I'm not the least little bit gay. I've always liked boys. About the only thing you could call out of the ordinary about me… I like to… smack a little boy's naked butt. Oh, the shower room story you were starting to like?"

  "Oh. Yeah…"

  "Where were we… handcuffs on your wrists and ankles. I have you captive, rope over a pipe in the shower room. Tied to your cute little handcuffs, tied over your head. You're just helpless, watching me put on my shower show for you. After I slowly shower you the same way, making you ache for it…"

  "Yeah. Go on. Or is it 5.99 for the next minute…"

  I ughed. That was witty.

  "Hmm. Wet towel snaps."

  "How many."

  I smiled. Shrugged.

  "As many as it takes. Don't worry. It won't be like tonight. It'll be more like… I did keep making polite suggestions, you should have listened… the 20, 40 pn. You dared me."

  "What would… 40 towels be like…"

  "Oh. Gee. I… you can't have one right now, or I would. See? Another thing, in addition to mommy really pnned on riding you tops, and… here we go again. You can't get a single, really good wet towel snap. I mean, not bragging but… I have my technique all down and everything. But, mommy promises. As soon as your little boo boo butt is all better? You want a couple wet towel snaps? Just to see."

  "Sounds like fun."

  "Definitely fun for me. For you? Not so much."

  "What's your pn for this, at your apartment."

  "Oh. Shower time? We'll be showering together, you can bank on that, my little dirt bike. You'll be sleeping in my bed, right there where I can grab you and ride you, any time I feel like it. You'll be in the mood. Whenever. Doesn't matter. If you're not in the mood? I'll put you in the mood."

  "Do, you have some… fantasy with the wet towel snaps."

  "You like your lectures?"

  "Yeah."

  "You'll get a short, fun lecture, I'm guessing you'll like. You… will be, coerced? Maniputed. Whatever… into letting me do it. You'll end up bending over, and asking me for your snaps. When you start getting up, and moving around, or compining… you'll get that lecture voice you seem to love… oh. Every time you move… more snaps. Keep it up. Until eventually, you manage to somehow stay still for enough of them, that we get done. You'll be… other things will be looming over you, if you don't comply, so… in the end? You will, somewhat willingly, we'll say… let it happen."

  "I'm…"

  "Yeah. I can see your… interest meter taking an interest in this story. Another rough sex fantasy, that'll come true. It'll never end. You? Are my property. And you like it. Get over it."

  "I'm afraid to ask, what the hell daddy looks like."

  "Oh my. You? Are now being a good little boy. Just like I knew."

  "What did you know? Or dare I ask."

  I shrugged, and smiled suggestively.

  "The compulsion. The naughty pictures that float in, on autopilot. As soon as I smacked your butt in your jeans, walking by. Then the next time you stuck it out, you said I forgot to smack it. I blushed a little ter. The picture I got? Okay… I said to myself, oh yeah. I think all I have to do, is bend this one over. Put a nice, hard whip across his ass enough times. He'll do what I want, and like it. Then? What did I do."

  "Yeah. Nothing like that, at all. Why am I such a good little boy now?"

  "I just expined. Because, I bent you over and put my whip hard enough across your naked ass, and made you listen. Weren't you listening."

  "No. What was so good about what I said that made you say I was being good?"

  "Oh! You went, from arguing you weren't my boyfriend, to looking forwards to meeting my family. It'll happen, sooner or ter. I'll either take you out on dirt bikes, or maybe a little te night trip to the barn in the back, where its privacy time for us. Whatever."

  "I asked what daddy looks like."

  "Yeah, that. Does it matter."

  "Circus midget, huh?"

  "My mom is, what? 5'10", maybe?"

  "And daddy…"

  "Oh. Maybe like… 6'5", 6'6"…"

  "Skinny little shit. Beanpole."

  "Actually… you know those pro football pyer gorils? Naturally look like body builders, before they train to be pro ball guys? He's… one of those."

  "I'm just sure, he'll love meeting the guy that's bending his delicate little princess over the hood of her car, and giving it to her rough like she needs it."

  "I… have never brought a boy home from college before? I haven't had that many. I wouldn't know."

  "I'm calling bullshit."

  "Good call. He's a daddy. He has a little girl. What do you want him to be like. Hold my legs open for you? Buy you beer to get me drunk so I'll kick and scream less? He's a daddy."

  "You never kick and scream."

  "We've been fucking for a couple hours. Like you'd know what all I do. Besides. Most of the kicking and screaming? Has come out of… you. Then? You got something to kick and scream for, didn't you?"

  "When do you kick and scream?"

  "Didn't say I did it all the time, didn't even say I ever did it, but… if it could be fun, we could work something out."

  "I'm afraid to ask."

  "You just did. I guess, instead of bending me over the hood, I'm face up. I'm pretending to resist. Mm. That could be hot."

  "I thought you liked to be in charge."

  "I do. But, like the hood… a girl wants roughed up now and then."

  "You, are a naughty little girl."

  "I can be."

  When we were finally done, we shared some more of the joint, and had some brandy. I took sips from the bottle for myself, but I taught him that I would take sips, hold it in my mouth for him, and I would kiss it into his mouth. It was intimate. The afterglow from such lengthy sustained pleasure, the effects of the joint, and the sips of kiss shared brandy… all mingled together to produce a sensation I would have great difficulty describing any better, than simply pure distilled rexation and pleasure.

  We id together in this state for a while. I was on my back, and he was up against me with a leg slung over me, keeping his poor behind up. I'm not sure either one of us pnned on falling asleep. Now? Sure, deep, slow and regur breathing was telling me that I would have to wait for morning to try to get my ride. Oh well. I had been licked several times, and the first one had been a real gem. Mm. Never had that done that long before, never once close to it. Obeying suggestions the whole time, I loved it. If I had told him he was squirming putty when I whispered naughty nothings in his ear, and touched him? I was moaning putty myself, when licked for too long like that. Hands on his head, my thighs touching his ears, my knees over his shoulders and my legs down his back. I remember blindfolding him at one point, so he wouldn't see me eating the corner of the bnket to keep from screaming.

  I looked him over in the early morning light. Quite nice. There was no question he worked out. He was well muscled. He just didn't have that I'm trying to be a bodybuilder look so many of the really big guys had, if they could. We had seen him 5 miles from campus jogging once, that meant 5 miles back. Plus twice whatever more mileage he did after we zoomed by before heading back. With his clothes on, you could find yourself thinking he was more of a regur guy, if things were loose enough and flowing. I'm still a girl, I notice. He was like me, jeans and a T shirt, or jogging pants and sweatshirt. Never caught him once in cut off T's or sleeveless, trying to show off to get girls.

  It was almost like he didn't want attention from girls, but I knew better. Now, anyways. He had been raised to be a nice guy. Didn't get into trouble, good grades. Being polite to people. What had it gotten him, following all the rules? I had heard it, and I knew what he had described well. I pitied him for going through that. All work and no py, always chasing a piece of hay dangled off of a stick dangling in front of his face. Trotting some girly girl, riding in a cart hooked up behind him. He had been their sve and hadn't known it, the poor guy. He deserved better. Hell, a lot of guys did.

  When I had gotten recruited into the girls click, I thought I had finally arrived. Being girly was never my thing, but a day or two a week was something different. I'd never had girls around me like that before. Got to see them do their nails and hair. Basics of makeup, and how to tie my hair up. I got to see a lot more than that though, hadn't I. My guy friends? Were actually my friends. I was one of them. They took me for a guy. I was told I was an "honorary guy". I got to hear them talk about girls open and honest, and when a new guy would look at me as if I were a girl, the others would ugh and expin.

  I learned to operate on guy rules growing up. My mom didn't py games with dad. Dad didn't py games with the farmhands. Guys all tease and fuck with each other, and if you cry and pitch a fit? You get ughed at, you lost. If you can take it, and give it back? Everyone will ugh and enjoy the show. Once they can't get your goat, the group moves onto someone else. Hazing was acceptable and expected. If someone's pissing you off, and its not normal teasing? You tell them. They keep it up? You might take a swing at them. You don't carry on behind their back about it. Don't act like a girl.

  Someone pushes you? You push them back. Someone buys you ice cream when you're broke, though? Don't make them ask you when they're broke and you got a five dolr bill on you. Guys won't ask, you're expected to make them take the ice cream if they act like they don't want it. Guys don't hug and kiss, and profess how much they love each other. But, deep down, once you're one of them? There's nothing they won't do for one another, without being asked.

  You're supposed to have each other's back. You're a pack. You're a team. Every member has a strength and brings something. Every member has a weakness, and should get it covered. You get caught throwing corn? You don't rat your friends out, you take it. They won't rat you out now. You're expected to show loyalty. They didn't call it honor and dignity like the coaches did, but that's what it was. Showing these qualities got you rewarded and you moved up the pecking order, and it took time. Lacking these qualities or failing tests that came along, got you demoted or cast out. It hurt. You learned what was expected of you. You were expected to take the extra teasing, and rise back up.

  Guys respect money and looks like any human, but they had more. That shit was secondary. If you thought you were gonna be hot shit because your daddy was all fired important, or because your family had money? You were in for a rude awakening. Your dad's a big guy, you aren't. You're not more important because your family has money. We don't like you now, get the fuck out. We know we aren't all equal, and we like to compete and show off. But in some way we're all equal, underneath it all. I liked it. But, once I got a taste of the girls finally? I went back. I found out I'd not just liked it, but that I'd loved it.

  When I started hitting "the age", the guys joked with me but they knew I was off limits. I quickly abandoned trying to kiss my guy friends. Too fucking awkward, and one fight I had to break up told me that shit wouldn't work at all. I had to go outside the group for that. I became actually one of the guys. The problem was that I was picking up their rules, too. If you can't walk up and tell a girl you like them? You deserve to not get kissed, or get a date. Don't be a girl about it. I already knew not to py games with people, that was girl shit.

  I wasn't in the locker room with them, but I knew what went on. About the only difference, was I didn't pee in front of them. Don't act like a baby and cry when you get hurt. If you're sick, fine, but don't carry on like a baby. Don't be such a girl about it.

  Then, sudden induction into the girl's click. Okay at first. But… I was shocked at what was going on. The gossiping, and I don't mean for fun. Mean. Laughing at how easy it was to get what you wanted. Which teachers were pervs and you could act sweet and get away with anything, even better grades than how you actually performed on tests. Laughing and bragging how to get boys to do anything you wanted. How you were expected to cover for any lie, automatically. Us against them. Girls against boys. And, girls were winning and knew it. Don't put out, you'll get more dates and presents and rides and anything else you want. Sneak off and fuck with the guy that actually turns you on. Bad boys.

  God, I hated that term. Most of these so called bad boys? Were anything but. Most of them were sissies. They just strutted around, and ran their mouth like a bitch. These girls giggled and loved it. I figured it would all get better, but it didn't. I was being expected to hook them in with sports guys. Get sports boys they wanted to hang out with. I was able to get us invited to other town's sports guys parties. Whee… they ran around and fucked football pyers from the next school over, and I was expected to keep it a normal girl's secret. Well, if the guys went and broke a window, I was expected to keep my mouth shut about that as well. Okay.

  Then, the show boyfriend shit. He keeps your parents happy, he makes you look like a good girl. Good girl? The word had no meaning. The only good girls? Were the ones who weren't in the big click, who weren't popur. I drew the line, when it was one of my guys getting shit on. His girlfriend, that I knew he thought the world of, and was bending over backwards to please her? She was fucking everyone else but him. I did it the guy way. I got her alone, and I tried to expin it. That? Is one of my friends. We grew up together, we swim every summer, we ride dirt bikes. Don't you understand the concept, of friend?

  She ughed. Oh, I can have him next, she's almost bored anyways. No, I expined what I meant. She just looked at me, like I was from another pnet. Fuck it. I left the girls click, and went back to my guy crew. When I was "back" full time, they were happy. When they knew I was too quiet, something was bothering me, though? One of them sat with me at the fire, and wanted to know what the problem was. Fuck it, I told him we had to tell the guy. Hell, I had to tell them what all the girls were doing to them. It disgusted me. I knew I liked boys and boys only, but… I sure didn't want to run with the girls.

  That was how I had gotten to be a complete tomboy. I knew I didn't want to go back, either. Sports girls were the next best thing to being one of the guys. And by the time I hit college, even they were learning or had already learned, how to be a girl that way. It was advantageous. Its how I got to be an insufferable cunt. This one sleeping on me, had gone through the girl's wringer, and all but given up on girly girls. He must have had a tomboy in his group, at some point. He had to have gotten an appreciation of them from somewhere. He was making the rounds of all us tomboys, looking for his own.

  Girls, most of them anyways, feel no guilt whatsoever. Most guys? Do. I felt guilt. Guilt was good. If you "borrowed" five bucks without asking? Guilt tickled your tummy, and you spent ten on them ter, so you taught yourself a lesson. And you didn't do it anymore, because you didn't like your tummy tickled that way. That was your dignity, some basic sense of honor. That was my… guy soul I knew I had. If it made me an insufferable cunt? So be it.

  That guilt gnawed at me now, looking down at him. A lot of guys that went through what he had, but never came out of it. They turned into jelly. Others, turned into male whores and assholes. I couldn't really bme them, even if I didn't like it. My tummy tickled more, and threatened to turn over. Girls were ruining the contract, whatever unspoken arrangement had existed for centuries between men and women. I felt that guilt, because I hadn't gotten beyond interested, and into wet in my panties, until I had found out he was actually very masculine. Then, guiltier still when my panties got a little squirt and not just moist, seeing those videos.

  I should have known better. I'm a guy too, after all. Some guys have a loud mouth, and can back it up as well. That was true. My group had a couple. But, I also knew there were quiet ones. Guys admitted it around campfires to each other, the time they thought they were pushing around some guy, and got the surprise of their life. Almost all quiet and polite guys were pushovers. Not all of them, though. There were a few wolves in sheep's clothing running around, and it was bad luck to come across one, and go too far.

  Big farm boy in my group, would always get reminded about some quiet little boxer he had fucked with at some other town's party, on vacation. He swore, the guy was a tiny little shit, too. The boys ughed, yeah, it happens. You were being a complete dick though, weren't you? He admitted it. Yeah, I was. There it was. Guy honesty, guy dignity. My tummy told me all about my guilt. This guy wasn't little. If a little wrestler, a little boxer made even my biggest farm boys check their morale, what was this one capable of. I had seen the video. I knew. My gut had me checking him out from day one, and kept me checking him out. Thank god, or I wouldn't have gotten lucky and came across a series of fortunate circumstances that led me to my discoveries. My soaking wet panties.

  I smiled. I felt the sudden urge to swat that marked up ass, and see him startle awake. A wet towel snap, when you're swimming with the boys. Oh, I got them back from the boys at the swimming hole. Trust me, I'm one of the guys. They wouldn't spare me. We all did it. How had it turned sexual though? It had. I had started wearing a bikini finally. One of the guys had got me good, bending over to pick up my suntan lotion. Perfect target, unaware. The hell was that for? He had to banter back. That, was for dressing like a whore, little girl. What happened to the soccer shorts, huh? Ha ha. If I compined, I wasn't one of the guys. I got him back a little ter, and snapped and almost caught him in the nuts. The guys all ughed. I was one of them.

  Was that when it started to get… slightly sexual? Maybe. My summer pool boyfriend was soon after that. Getting my towel snaps before making out, cemented it. It started out innocent. I'll make out with you, but I need something back, that guarantees you won't tell. Bending over for wet towel snaps, then making out, had done it. I was craving some sexual experience, and terrified of getting in trouble with my parents. And worse than that, was other kids finding out.

  So, innocent as it was the first time? It became our little ritual. If I had some urge before that, I hadn't known. But, that first ritual felt good. A couple more, once a week? I knew I liked it. It went so well, I learned to make out with a boy and get comfortable and good at it. I wanted to touch him with my hands and my mouth, and not worry about… igniting a little green alien in him. I wanted his hands and mouth back on me. The ritual. The bargain. Let's go on a hike. I want a lot of wet towel snaps. Here's what we get to do for a long time afterwards. I need to tie your hands, so things don't get out of control. He had agreed.

  I would never come back from that, with any shred of not knowing now. I had hit the crack pipe one too many times, I guess. Hooked. After that, you just knew. You could not do it, but the desire would always be there. My pool boyfriend out on the trails, hands tied to a tree. For towel snaps. A few tears and some begging. Then, hands tied so I got to keep things from going too far. No. It was already sexual before, and that was just the final proof. I was ruined. The rest of my life, I would make little jokes and innuendo. When they came back, there we go. Here's another one.

  I looked down at him. Never dreamed I could even get this, though. Fucking internet. If you like to fuck dead roadkill, there's an internet site dedicated to it. It was my guilty pleasure, to read about it. Holy shit. There were more of me, lots of them. I wanted it kept private. Just for me and my guy. That's not how to get into big fun pytime, though. But here it was. I was so lucky, and I knew it. Doing without had taught me to treasure it when I found it. I had found everything I wanted, and nothing I didn't want.

  Tall. No pretty boy, but a handsome rough and rugged thing I knew I liked. Equal measures of tough and shy that were irresistible. I didn't need kneeling at my feet, kissing them, but… oh god, the pleasure that only a willing victim can give you that way. I was going to be able to do anything I wanted with him. Any dirty image that flitted through my filthy little mind, I could get. I could ask. I could demand. There it was. Freely given, too. Begged for it. Then thanked for it afterwards. No, I knew I was dirty now. And I knew I liked it.

  He saw me different, too. I was his pin up girl. When I was with him, I felt gorgeous and confident. Being tall and strong made me an 8 or 9 to him, it didn't lower me to a 4 or 5 like all the other guys. My tummy told me what I needed to know. Don't fuck this up. It'll be easy, but don't get bored and take it for granted, or you might never get another one of these. He was stirring on his own. Gd I fought the urge to smack that ass and wake him up.

  "Good morning."

  "Hmm. It certainly is."

  "And how did my sex crime victim sleep, huh."

  "Fine."

  "How's your little butt feel."

  "Well…"

  "Yeah. When I say I'm sorry, I mean it. But, when I say I'm not sorry, I guess you know what I mean about that, right?"

  He smiled.

  "Yeah. Its fine."

  I snapped a picture of his butt with my phone, and asked him if he wanted to see it. He did. I told him to brace himself.

  "Oh gee."

  "Wanna talk about it?"

  "Trying to get me in the mood as soon as my eyes are opened? Shameless."

  "We can do that a little ter. You're not mad."

  "Why would I be mad."

  "You're happy?"

  "I dared you. I kept daring you. You did it. What would the problem even be."

  "I read about this stuff. You know how the internet is. You too?"

  He giggled.

  "Sure. I had a chance to… you know. Decided to take it. What if I never get to again."