Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Trigger Warnings: Literally, and also G/M Cons/Rape?  I'll let you decide,
when you get to that line.  Power-Reassurance, and PTSD.
   Lanie (G...M Peep Fant.)
   Womanizer, what does that even mean?  My aunt said he seduces lots of
girls, but always abandons them, after he gets what he wants.  "Like James
Bond." I watched all the movies, but they were exciting, and the seduction
part.  Well, that's what I didn't get.  I tried, to put myself in her
place, and though they're attractive men, I just don't get the point at
which they're seduced.
   I want to be seduced!  Not like that, just fall into bed, or be bullied
into it by some superspy killer.  Oh, the he in that conversation was Dale,
or "Specialist Richards," because my dad was in the army too, but that's
what they said about him, he was a womanizer.  Okay?  He had a lot of
girlfriends, and he "Cheated" on them.  That's another thing I don't get,
why is that cheating?
   What's wrong with a man who has been with a lot of women?  They know
what they're doing, right?  How to talk, and dress, where to take me, and
the perfect moment for that first kiss.  "Hhn!" Boys my age, they're so
immature, clumbsy, and studder out the most stupid thing.  Virgins, what
would I want with a virgin when I have this single, experienced, smart good
looking well traveled guy, right across the street?  If I had a man like
that, I wouldn't keep him to myself.  That's selfish.
   And he was in the Army.  Not like a superspy, or anything.  He's a
mechanic, always was, but when he went away to Baghdad I was heartbroken.
You see, I had a crush on him, forever.  Even as a little girl, I was in
love.  Then he went away to war and I was afraid I'd never see him again.
But when he came back, I decided.  I'm growing up, I'm still a virgin, and
there is nobody else in the world I would rather give it up to.
   Then his friend went over there, and pulled up to the garage.  While he
held it open, it was early, and a warm night.  I watched from my window,
squinting to try and see his chest.  Especially half naked, spraying
himself off with the hose after trimming the yard, but in his teeshirt. 
All I got to see was his arm, straight up to hold the door over him, like
the statue of Liberty, and his coffee cup.  In his other hand, tucked up to
bulge out in front, turning, and letting it down.  He came back with a lot
more muscle.
   Halfway, it's busted, I guess.  Or maybe he just doesn't want the sun
shining in to make it hot, but I can't see him, from up here.  So, I get
dressed.  I want to look real nice for him, to notice.  I know, I'm just
the girl across the street, but it's been 4 years.  I have a body now,
needs and desires I hadn't when he left me, I just hope it's enough.  Now,
not next year, or a few years.
   "Hhn!" I want him, now.
   Or, I can play this game longer, slower, patiently get used to being
around him again.  Over there watching him work in the garage, the smell of
grease.  For years, but I don't want to wait for years any more.  I already
did that, and now I want him here.  Now, in my bed so I can crawl back
under the covers, warmed by his body, and feel the hairs on his muscular
chest.
   "Hm!" He doesn't like girls, too busty.  Not like he snuck them in and
out, I saw them.  His girlfriends, I know what he likes.  I can just hope
to ever live up to that, but I'm not flat as a board any more, and I have
the old green top from last summer.  My favorite one, last summer when I
really started to show, but it's so tight now, it keeps pulling down, and
getting stuck.
   On my chest, so boys keep looking down, and I have to fix it.  Or not,
if there happens to be a tall muscular hairy man, looking down, when I look
up, bite my lip, and tilt my head a little.  His hands on my heaving chest,
"un!"
   Blink.  Yeah, I need to do something about that.
   Dale (GM Sedu)
   KRKT, KRKT!  Get this valve cover off, first.  Gonna be a hot one,
"Hahaha." Here?  Not hardly, I checked the weather back there.  Still
evening, 107 when I woke up.  "Phf!" Hot coffee.
   It's not like Home.  Since I came back, just looking around, it all
looks familiar.  I recognise it, but.  I feel almost homesick for that
hellhole?  Shake it out of my head.
   "Hey, Dale." She knocked, and then let her arm drop, straightening up
under the hanging door.
   "Oh, hey Elane."
   "Lanie, now." She smiled.  "Or is it, Specialist Richards now?"
   "No," I sighed, "Dale is fine." nodded.
   "You haven't changed a bit!"
   On the outside, "Well," I looked down, "It's only been 4 years."
   "Yeah." I backed up, "but I changed a lot in the last 4 years."
   "I see that!" She stepped back, twirled.  She was taller now, and.
   "You like it?"
   "What?"
   "My outfit?" She bent her knees, together.  Sideways, I don't know, like
Monroe, or some other pinup.
   "Hah, are you hitting on me?" Again, she's basically had a crush on me
since she was, well, a very young girl.  About the time she grew her teeth
back in.
   "So, what're you working on today?"
   I relaxed, "Well, just troubleshooting at this point, but it sounds like
a valve-job" he already payed for that, and I've got the gasket-kit.
   "Tuner car." She nodded, elbow up on the rear wing spoiler.  "So,
performance job?"
   Shrug, "Just talked to him at the gas station, I gave him some pointers,
but it sounds off." Probably need to redo the exhaust, once I have
everything set to actually tune it.  "Hh, he doesn't actually know much
about cars." Said he was more of a cruiser than driver, anyway.
   "Just dropped it off." Got in his friend's car, and roared off.  She
came around to lean down, under the hood.  So, I stepped back.
   Okay, she said that a lot had changed.  She's not, well she never was
slutty.  Before, but it had been 4 years, and, some things had changed. 
Some girls, her age, they get hormones, and go through this phase.  I'd
seen it before, and even may have taken advantage of it in school, but I'm
not that guy any more.  "Uh, Lane."
   "Lanie." She nodded.
   "Could you pull your top up?"
   "Oh," she looked down, "Sorry." And tugged it up.  Over her bra, thank
goodness she wore one, or no telling what I may have seen when she bumped
up against the quarter panel, and the plunging neck of green fabric pulled
down dangerously low.
   "It's okay," probably ment nothing by it, she's just not used to
covering them up.  Or having them, to cover up, I'm sure.  Some guys take
it the wrong way, as an invitation.  When all it is is missteps learning to
live as a young lady, because she's young.  It just comes off as flirty,
especially after she hung around me all those years with hearts in her
eyes, but it's kind of comforting.
   Familiar, different because I missed her starting puberty, but that just
roots me.  Back here, I'm home, and I need to adapt back to, civilian life.
The way the doctors said it.
   Lanie (GM Sedu)
   "Can I use your restroom?"
   "You know where it is." He bent over, Kgdt Kgkt!
   I didn't slap his ass, or grab it on my way around, like I wanted to,
but might have brushed it across my tummy, a little.  Slipping past, like
feet behind me to the toolbox, so I didn't have to get that close, but I
hopped up the steps to his house before he said anything, and looked back.
   Kdt Kdt!  He didn't even look up.
   "Hh, snh!" Nope.
   But his house, the smell, and his family was gone.  Moved, couldn't rent
it, and I'm so glad, so he could come back.  To me, his old house empty, so
just the two of us, but it had been years.  It was dusty, different, but
looks like the dust was just swept, or kicked under the kitchen counters.
   It needs a woman's touch.  So, I wanted to go finger off in the
bathroom, but I saw the broom beside the fridge, and I don't know why, but
I just popped off the dustpan, and started sweeping.
   Here, where I can hear him, and see him.  Working hard, the sound of his
wrench handle, like music to my ears.  First weekend back, and just some
side job.  He has money, told me about the other guys in the motorpool,
spending it, and partying, but he saved his.  He's smart like that, thinks
ahead, so he can semi-retire, at 25.  Just do odd jobs like this, to stay
busy, said it's like "Therapy."
   His face, well, he looked so sad, a moment.  Lest I forget, he was away
at war.  Not a warrior, he was a mechanic, probably in a garage instead of
the front line, but something had changed.  Was he wounded?  Does he have
any scars, I don't know about?
   "Oh!"
   "Huh," he wiped his hands.  "You don't have to do that." He pointed at
the broom.
   "Oh, I don't mind." I looked around the floor.  "It's filthy, and do you
really want me to leave it for you to clean up?"
   "No," he chuckled, "That's all right." So, I stuck the bristles under
the counter, and carefully swept the dust, out like a snow-bank.  He didn't
have the AC on with the doors open, but it was cooler in the house.  Then
Baghdad.  I asked, but he doesn't want to talk about it.
   Honestly, I don't care.  What I have to do to be here, with him.  See
him, smell his house, and talk to him.  Make him laugh, and I love his
chuckle.  That's another thing, he doesn't laugh like he used to, as much.
He's acting sad, hurt, and that just makes my heart go out to him even
more.
   No dishes, though.  Good, I like sweeping.  Kind of, I guess it's like
turning a wrench for him.  Something I can do, while I think, and a reason
to be here, with him.  While he works, he works even when he doesn't need
the work, and there's not much I can do to help him.  Down there, in the
garage, except hand him the ⅝" socket.  Put something back in the
toolbox.
   Wipe the sweat off his brow, so he doesn't smudge it with his greasy
fingers, and I can keep it.  The rag to smell him, once it's dried, and I'm
in bed, tonight, thinking about him.  "Him!" I know, it's not realistic. 
He's the best looking guy in town, he could have any woman, and here I am.
A skinny little neighbor girl, not even the only one.  The other girls want
him too, and "Hihihn!" I can just imagine us, all jumping on him, holding
him down, and tearing off his clothes.
   "Hn?" Just bite my lip, finish sweeping up the dust, and dump it before
I got to the bathroom.  His bathroom, the greasy smudges on the sink, and
that Lava soap he uses.  The smell of his shampoo, the shower he uses.
   Naked, dripping, covered in grease so the water just splashes off, and
runs down, without washing it away.
   How does he wash it off, really?  I mean, besides from his hands, I love
watching him wipe his hands, with the tendons pulling, and twisting in his
arms like cables, and his rough greasy finger rubbing the crotch of my
panties in, so hard, and fast, "Hh h h, h.  Huh!" Just hold onto the towel,
ring.  Thing, with the hand towel, next to the sink, and look up to see my
face.
   My beautiful face, I'm pretty.  I heard, but nothing bring it out where
I can see it quite like a fresh orgasm.  Still twitching away in the bottom
of my body, burning red hot, with goosebumps, and gasping for breath.
   This is how I want him to see me.  At my most beautiful, for him.  My
nipples still pushing out the fabric of my green top, and my red chest,
still heaving.  Still glowing with the really very great orgasm I just had
just being here.  Not just thinking about him, but being so close, and
smelling his bathroom, and I hope he notices.  How sexy I am for him.
   Dale (GM nude...)
   "Huh!" I picked up my shirt, and wiped my hands.
   "Oh," she brought me a tumbler of ice water.  "Here' it's getting pretty
hot."
   "Yeah," she definitely flirting, "Uh," hard.  "Can we talk, Lainey?"
   "Sure," she leaned back against the tool rack, and crossed her legs. 
"What's up?"
   "I don't know how to say this, but.  I'm starting to feel a little
uncomfortable."
   "Huh!" I look away, from her chest.  "I'm sorry."
   "I know, you don't mean anything by it, but.  Could you stop, could you
please stop, flirting with me so, aggressively?"
   "Snh!" She wept, "I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry, but I just can't help, my
feelings for you."
   "Yeah, well they're not appropriate.  You know I could get in serious
trouble, if anyone even thought."
   "Oh, is that the problem?  Because I can be discrete."
   "No!  You're what, 12?"
   "Thirteen!  I'm a teenager now, and it's not fair!"
   "Uh, stop.  Calm down, you're getting hysterical."
   "No I'm not, and stop yelling at me.  I feel bad enough, and."
   "I'm Not YELLING!"
   "Nh!?" She shrank back, and covered herself defensively.
   "Oh, I'm sorry.  Huh, I didn't mean to yell, I'm just not handling
stress very well, lately."
   "Nyhihihn!" She hugged my waist, so I just held her shoulders, and let
her cry it out on my chest.
   "Uh, Lanie?"
   "Mhm?" She just nodded, sideways, against my chest.  Well, not just
that, she let her arms slip down, crying, and now she was pretty obviously
feeling my ass.
   "Could you stop that?"
   I just stepped back, again.  She just kept doing that, all morning. 
Stepping into my personal space, and looking up.  To show me the front of
her top, or the opening, and what's inside.  I felt them, or her bra
against my abs as well, but then.  When she groped me.
   "That definitely makes me uncomfortable."
   She smiled, guiltily.  "Okay." Turned away, but, she wasn't sorry. 
Didn't even say that.  "You're just too sexy, huh.  I couldn't help
myself."
   "Well, I like you, but not like that.  I have to make that perfectly
clear, now I know you've had this crush;" on me.
   "It's not just a crush." She shook her head.  "I love you.  I always
loved you, for as long as I remember, and just a crush would have been over
by now.  I missed you, so much, but I had every chance with boys my age.  I
could have had any one of them I wanted, but I didn't, because I don't love
them.  I love you."
   "Huh!  But it's not appropriate."
   "So?  It's against the law, I know, I've heard.  More than 6 years if
I'm under 15, but I'm not going to stay 13 forever.  So, if I'm not old
enough now, maybe when I'm a little older?"
   "I don't know, it's still, like 12 years, and."
   "So, my mom's 14 years older then my dad, and you never had any trouble
with that before you left, when you're in high school."
   "But I'm not, the high school guy you think you fell in love with. 
Things changed, I've changed, and I know now that what I was doing was
wrong.  It was disrespectful, to myself, and women."
   "And I don't care about that!  Really I don't, as a matter of fact, I
love it.  That about you, you're a womanizer." She shrugged, "I love that,
about you."
   "No, I'm Not!" Stop saying that about me!
   "I know, you've changed."
   "I have." honestly.
   "Then that's good too!  Either way, I'd love it if you saw other women,
and came back to me, or if you're loyal, well I can live with that too."
   "Yeah, but you're ignoring the important part that I Don't love you." I
tried to be polite, "I like you, you're a great kid, and I even like having
you around, but that's it.  Thanks for sweeping up my kitchen, but I'm not
going to have sex with you." And that's final.
   "Oh, hihihihmn!  Who said anything about sex?" She shook her head.  "I'm
a virgin, not a slut.  Huh!  I mean, maybe, some day, when I'm ready, but
I'm 13, and in love.  Huh!  I just really wanted to tell you how I feel, is
all.  But if that makes you uncomfortable.  I'll go."
   "No," I feel like such a bastard.  "Huh!  You don't have to go, I just.
I guess it was all just a big miscommunication.  You're right, I'm just.  I
thought, you're.  No." I shook my head, "I'm sorry."
   "It's okay," she patted my chest, "I forgive you." I sat down, on the
front clip, and the radiator.
   Then, she kissed me.  I didn't know, how to feel about it, much less
think of anything I could do about it, so I just let her.  I didn't stop
her, and she rubbed my chest.  With her hand, sighed through her nose, but
it was just.  Like a chaste kiss.  She didn't open her mouth, or try to
stick her tongue in, she just kissed me.  And felt my chest.
   "Huh!" She nodded, right in my face.  "That wasn't too bad, was it?" I
shook my head.  So, she smiled, and bit her lip.  "Thanks," stood up. 
"That's all I really wanted.  For now."
   Lanie (G Solo Fant.)
   Okay, so I changed my mind.  I don't want to be seduced, seducing him is
so much more fun.  I get to do something, instead of just lay back, and
enjoy his strong arms, firm chest, his smell, and his love inside me.
   "Huh!" That was the old fantasy.  Not even my fantasy, just the only one
I ever got to see.  That's the hollywood romance, the romance novel
romance, but he's not willing.  I'm too young, so I have to seduce him.
   And this is even better!
   For years!  He wants me older?  Okay, it's going to take a while, so I
can keep working on him for years.  "Oh!" With his greasy, sweaty, stinking
shirt, "Hihihih!" In bed where I can smell it, remember the sweet music of
his wrenches ringing, his arms around me, his chest, hairs brushing my
cheeks, and that magnificent ass in my hands.
   Oh, and good god all mighty!  I love looking at it, but feeling it, is
so much better than I could possibly imagine.  "NHM!" His breath, his bare
ripply belly, and the sound of it in his chest.  His heart, beating, and
his abs pushing in between my hot breasts.
   "MHRNH!" Yes, that's enough, for now.  I have enough to hold me, how
long I'll find out, but for tonight?  Yeah, I have enough of him.  Here, in
my heart.  But next time, tomorrow, or next week?  End, maybe this will
last me a week, but I want his hands on me.  Something held him back, made
him hold back, but I know, he must have wanted to.  I showed him, he saw
I'm not the little girl he left, I'm becoming a woman, but he didn't touch
them.  Really, maybe felt when I bumped him, or brushed his arm with them.
Definitely breathing together, the first time he held me in his arms.
   I got what I wanted of him, for now, but next I want his hands.  All
over me, feeling my chest, and tummy, and "OohHhH!" my legs, "Nhmhihm!" God
my legs feel so sexy now, and my buttocks, just sunk into the bed, and
blankets, but warm, and firm while he feels all over my legs, and body, and
arms, I just wish I can hug myself.  Hold myself like that, and they were
his rough, big strong hairy greasy hands, and not mine.
   But that's enough.  I can feel my pulse, my blood, beating with my
heart, between my legs.  That's a good indicator, right there.  Would that
that always happened, but it feels fantastic, I'm so turned on I'm almost
afraid I'll burst into a gushing orgasm if I touch myself.  But I don't,
"Hmn!" it feels good, though.  "Myeah!" Just my 3 fingertips, rubbing and
scrubbing around in my pubes.
   Does he like pubes?  Or shaved?  I shaved my legs, for him, he didn't
comment, but it's not like I watched him.  Have sex, with all those girls,
or saw them naked.  Just going up to his house, his arm over their
shoulder, keys out to unlock the door, and take them inside.
   "Mhyeah!"
   To me, waiting there, for him to get home.  I have that Housekeeping
dress, with the white collar, sleeves, hem around the bottom.  My sister,
worked at the hotel, before she left for school.  But I bet I fit it, to
keep myself busy.  It really was a dirty house, being left for, 2 years?  I
think it's been 2 years, but dusty, and he doesn't have the time to clean
it up.  What with working, and dating, and coming home with a woman.
   It's not fair, him leaving me there, to clean up after him while he goes
out to romance another woman.  I'm right here, but I'm like a servant to
him.
   "Oh," Definitely ready for the vibe now, "Yeah."
   Where was I?  Oh yeah, the beautiful woman, tall, and thin, in the
expensive dress, her hair up for the opera.  High society, a model.  Older,
but young looking, and tall in her heels.
   "Hh!" But she gets mad.  Slaps him with her purse, and storms out.  He
just stopped, sending me away to be with his floozies.  Even he doesn't
score every time, but I could watch, peeking around the corner, and pulling
up my apron.  My skirts over my pantie hose, and steaming underwear.
   "Hmhhhh!"
   But not tonight.  Now he's left hanging, after all that time, and money
wasted, only for her to insist "I'm not that kind of girl."
   Neither am I.  I love him, just never could find a way to tell him.  He
can see it, he must see it by now, but it's not to be.  He's rich,
powerful, influential, and I'm just a lowly little servant girl.
   But my master needs me.
   Dale.  (M Solo PTSD NS.)
   "Mh?" Well, at least it's not a nitemare.  Shake it out of my head, I'm
trying, but.
   She's grown up, a lot.  I know, bad fucking example from horrible movies
that tell America all the wrong things about the military, but
Transformers.
   Mickayla, or however she spells it.  That whiney little shrimp, somehow
got a girl like that, surrounded by all these soldiers, and giant
transforming robots.
   Never mind the fact that the soldiers are represented like robots,
mindless machines so bent on following their programming, they just stand
there, firing a handgun into the chest of a giant transforming robot.
   But somehow, the nerdy expert consultant gets to bring his girlfriend in
the field with us, and she's a garage slut.  Okay, when I say slut, or
slutty, it's coming from a reformed slut.  All right?  I slut shame myself,
but it's not shaming to acknowledge when a girl is empowered by sex.  I've
known too many of them, it's not shameful.  For guys, or girls, what did
she call it?  "Womanizing."
   That's not the problem.  Okay, 1 she is 13.  I did the math, yeah she
was about 9 when I left, so 4 years later, you have to realize she was
telling the truth.
   The problem is, she's really really good at playing Garage Girl for me,
and now she's not 9 any more.  That's what makes me uncomfortable, she
doesn't even look that mature, barely what I would call tits.  Yet.
   She waited for me.  4 years, after I got over the First World problems
part of it that pissed me off.  I'm sorry, you have hormones, and they make
you horny.  I can sympathise, but that's Normal, and the boys your age
don't have Kalashnikovs.
   That's the problem, or one of many, she's just, so, Fucking White!  Me
too, but I came to a bit of a realization over there, and didn't sign up
for another tour.  They let me go, apparently not a critical part of their
war machine, but I really started to hate the war machine.  Being forced to
do things I wasn't comfortable with at the time, and while I didn't
literally have a gun to my head, I did them, and I'm not really happy with
myself now.
   Do I really want to jump in the sack with a 13 yo neighbor girl, who's
loyally adored me, started learning auto-mechanics.  Not from me, but just
to pop bye the garage, and surprise me with her knowledge.
   No, honestly, I like her too much, and care about her.  Too much to do
that to her.  I know what I did to girls.  Older than her, well since I was
that age, but damn it, I know what she's going through!  I didn't get the
girl package, but I was with those girls, including her aunt, and
shamefully her mother too.  That's not me any more, and there's no way in
hell I need to get in this generation like that either.  I'm a quarter
century old, and it's time to grow up, which means stop having sex, just
because someone else wants it.  You know, at some point I hated it?  Sex,
for god's sake stop before it's ruined any more for you, Dale.
   Just jerk-off real quick, and get some sleep.
   At least it's not a nitemare.
   Lanie (GM Sedu)
   "Wh?" He shook his head, unlocking the door.  "What's with the."
   "Uniform?" Nod, grinning, "Well, you need a house cleaned, and my sister
left this.  So, I thought I'd make some money.  If you have any."
   "Yeah, come on in."
   He went back, in his boxer shorts.  I set down the bucket.  A little
loose, but I just belted it on with the apron, and pulled it back, tight to
my shoulders from the sides.
   Not a maid's uniform, like a naughty maid halloween costume. 
Houscleaning uniform, actually covers up a lot of sexy, and is rather
designed as the best thing to clean a house, or rooms in.  "Hhihn!  Got my
work cut out for me."
   Came back out in pants, and a shirt.
   "You're right, I don't want to clean all this up, how much were you
thinking?" Couple hundreds.
   A ring?  "Oh, we'll work that out when I'm done.  I can't even imagine,
how much of a job this is, until then, anyway."
   "You thinking about going into housecleaning?"
   "Idunno," I picked up the bucket, and carried it around to the kitchen.
Just swept, yesterday, more tracked in from the carpet, but I could get it
again real quick.  "Huh!  I never done a whole house before.  At once,
probably my whole house, but I can get a job, next year with a Permit."
Shrug, "I know how to do this." Got the uniform.  "Hm." That ceiling fan
first.  "You got a mop?" I can run right over to get one, but if you shake
that fan too hard, it'll be dust everywhere again.
   "First, I need to lay out a groundrule."
   "Mhm?" He pulled it out of the heater closet.
   "No physical contact." He set it down.  "I'm still a little. 
Traumatized by being touched."
   "PTSD?" I looked it up.
   "A lot of things I don't want to go into, but yeah.  Basically.  Huh, so
I'm going to go to church."
   "Okay," explains the dress pants, and sunday socks he put on.
   So, take the dry mop to the ceiling fan.
   I didn't know, okay?  Can be one of the symptoms, like that autistic boy
at school, gives him a panic attack, or something.  Just didn't know what
that was.
   He didn't say I couldn't love him.
   What do I want out of this job?  "You." Made up my mind, nothing else
will do.  It'll be fun to see how I do it, but, he's not comfortable alone
in the house.  I think, I picked up on that too, but that's why he can't
throw me out, and lets me come back, for hours.
   He needs me.  Or someone, but I'm here, just don't go and fuck it up by
groping, and kissing him.
   "Gulp."
   It might be, quite a while before we can kiss again.
   Okay.  He's worth it.  I waited this long, I really got more out of him
than I should have yesterday, and got a triple last night just remembering
that.  But, "Huh!" I'm so sick of waiting, for him.
   Get out the duster for the floral bells of the lights up there.  White,
flowers.  I don't know what kind of flowers, but cupped like bells around
the light bulbs.
   Pain in the ass to clean, but that's the mystery of what blew all that
dust under the cabinets solved.
   Dale (MG...)
   Okay, church was a bad idea.  Feeling guilty, a little?  Leading on a
teenager like that, because you're still too weirded out by the empty
house? Okay, there's that breakthrough, having never been truly alone to
myself for days on end since Basic?  Family gone, so it doesn't even feel
like home without them, put off packing away what they left, and really
moving in, I need to get on with my life.
   She's cleaning my house, so I can get right on that when I come back. 
Of course I got a bit depressed lately, but I'm really just a little
nervous, going back, and.
   What?  That's the problem, I don't have a plan, stop by the bank for
some cash, and get rid of her so I can work, but.
   God damn it.  Sorry sir.  That sack of a dress wasn't as bad as that
green top, but, it still looks good on her.  That's the problem, I'm
fucking tempted, all right?  I have a problem, and every excuse sounds like
every excuse you hear from the guy making moves on a 13 year old girl.  She
wanted it, she came onto me, she's seducing me.
   She is, I realize that, but I can't take years of this.  Seriously, it's
just too much, I'm gonna go and do something stupid, and that's.  Okay? 
No, of course it isn't, but I'm struggling here to think of something wrong
with it.
   It's going to take days to do this, and by then.  I'm already seriously
considering it, and yeah jerked off last night thinking about her, and this
morning, thankfully before she showed up, and I got a shower.
   "Look," I shook my head, "I'm flattered, but;"
   Nothing?  Really.
   "Huh!"
   She was just so cute, and now she's not just cute any more.  She'll grow
up, but she and I both know we're not going to wait long enough.
   It's kind of nice being seduced for once, ain't no reason to hurry, but
2 years?  15's not like.  That, "No." it's that bad, still 12 years. 
"Fuck!"
   I do Not need this right now!
   But she's not going away, it'll take days to pack up, and leave her,
heart broken, and.  I can't imagine doing it without her.  Sure, I could
hire someone, else, right in front of her, but she's right across the
street.  Of course, always was, or for over a decade, I just remember when
she wore diapers.  I was a teenager, when she was in diapers, and that's
just not cool.
   And she's waiting at my house.  I have to head back some time, I really
don't want to drive around, and run errands, I really just need to go back,
and face the music.  Something's got to change, and it's going to, but I
don't think for the better.
   I wonder how much of the work she got done?  The kitchen?  Just the
kitchen is a godsend, the best staging area through the garage, and if we
get the living room, that's back and forth from the rooms, and the front
door.
   That's what I really need, her help with that.  Move the furniture, she
can vacuum, and we can hopefully talk.  Better than previous attempts, but
we need to work this out, and not keep putting it off.
   "Oh, honey." She stopped the vacuum.  "You're home."
   "Hahaha," very funny.
   "Sorry if it made you uncomfortable."
   "Okay, here's the deal." She moved the couch.  Heavy couch, hideabed,
and about 8' long.  Antique, and well kept if a bit dusty, but, "Did you
clean it?"
   "Yeah, I beat it out, and used the hose." She finished coiling it
around. "Is it dusty there?"
   "Iraq?"
   "Is that how you say it?"
   "It's how they say it." I nodded, "Huh, well.  Yeah, actually now that
you mention it, getting rid of all the dust-bunnies really help, my state
of mind."
   "Oh yeah, and if there's anything I can do, to make you feel less
uncomfortable.  Besides not touching you."
   "No, that's probably about it, but if something else comes up, I'll let
you know."
   "You want to help me move it back?" I got up.  "You weren't injured, or
anything."
   "No, you're right.  I should probably talk about it for a little.  But,
right there's fine." I stopped it with my leg.  "Huh!  My therapist thinks
it was the blood.  I didn't really see much combat, lost a few friends, and
there were a few wounded, but we didn't hit any roadside bombs." I took off
my jacket, and loosened my tie some more.  "What I got was the aftermath.
They'd pull it back, full of holes, and then we'd have to take off the
modular armor.  Replace it, bend the frame back in place sometimes, and
send them back out."
   "You worked on armor."
   "I worked on vehicles, that drove through the freeway from hell, and a
lot that didn't make it."
   "Some of them were full of blood."
   "Oh, they hosed them out, but they didn't scrub them.  Usually had to
tear a lot out, so there' the corners behind the seats, and we had to scrub
those out too, or have a PFC do it, but I was the PFC once.  Huh!  It's
just a job, a metal box, but I just kept being reminded of all the boys
that got wounded and died in there, patching it up, and sending back out
for the next truck-load of guys..."
   "Yeah, that sounds.  Hopeless?"
   "Never got anything to show for it.  Sure, they eventually got Hussein,
but.  Huh!" All that blood.
   Lanie (G/M Powerbottom.)
   So, I triggered him.  He didn't cry, but if I can't touch him, I can at
least weaken his mind a little.  Fuck it, he's already got PTSD, so
nobody's even going to be able to tell.
   Let me know when you want to start fucking, because I can make it feel
like hell until you do.
   "My sister." He looked up, snapped out of it.  "You didn't go out with
her, you're fuck-buddies." I shrugged, "She told me all about it."
   "Yeah, sorry about that."
   "Don't be," wave it off, "Why I gave up trying to find another man like
you.  Spoiled me for other guys, it's okay.  I can wait..."
   "To have sex."
   "I don't want your money.  I want you.  Always have.  Sex, okay, I'm
willing, but that's not want I want.  I love you, and I'm not willing to
settle."
   "Fine.  Sure, great, whatever, I'm not gonna stop you.  You want to help
me pack up all this stuff, and move in?"
   "Yeah, ready for anything." For him.
   "You didn't watch us, having sex?"
   "No, you're pretty good at doing that," I admit, "Without anyone seeing,
but also my mom, aunt, and I don't know how many friends."
   "Yeah, and I really need to work on that, I just don't know about with
you."
   I glared,
   "Ahahaha!"
   "Any time you want to make it up to me, let me know when it's my turn."
   "What, with me?"
   "Yeah, you really don't get it, do you?u I was in that house, I was
there the whole time, and all the women in my family knew what a wonderful
lover you can be.  It's been 4 years now, that I've missed you.  So,
whatever you want, I'm ready." How many times do I have to tell him?  I
should be getting better at wording it then worse, the more times I say it.
I would think.
   "So, work on the womanizing part with me.  Have a real relationship with
a woman, and not duck out as soon as it starts turning intimate.  Grow the
fuck up, man!  I have years ahead of me, potentially the best years, or
better and better from here, but please let me spend them with you?"
   "All right, but you also have to understand this neighborhood."
   "I was born here, of course I understand.  I was thinking, and after
this maybe you can teach me auto-mechanics in return."
   "Well, I can use the help around the garage, but." Yeah, "Yeah, that
sounds like a deal."
   I got him.  The thing is, with my sister, my mom, and her sister, we're
all about this age.  I know what he likes, what kind of girls he likes,
better than anyone else.  Maybe even as good as him.  Not too much, before
we grow too much in the chest, my sister shaved for him, but I'm saving it
for later.
   "You hungry?" he had food, I guess bought it, didn't cook.  "I can cook
for you, too."
   "You really have this whole, housewife fantasy going."
   "Not really," shrug, "I just feel that you've been through a lot, and
wonder what you need.  To feel better.  You used to smile, and laugh more."
   He likes the maid uniform, doesn't press me up against the counter,
behind me, and breathing on my neck, then kissing it, and nibbling at my
ears.  "HhHhuh!" "Huh, ha.  I like, the uniform."
   "Really?" I held it out.  "Just the best thing to clean in."
   "It actually suits your figure."
   "Yeah." I know.  "Think so?"
   If he wants to flirt with me fine.  I get it, army mechanic, he has to
do it.  He's just to slow.  Denial, I guess.  He knows what he wants, right
in front of him.  "How old're these cans?" Pull the rag to dab, on a clean
corner, hold it up.
   "No, you're really good at this fantasy playacting thing." He laughed,
"I don't know why you lie about it, but you're too good at it."
   "Hah, yeah." You got me.  "You like it?"
   "The maid thing?" He shook his head, "I like the garage girl better."
   "Oh," poo!  But he gets so dirty out there!  Yeah, it looks great, but
really.  My first time with petroleum grease, grit, and metal shavings in
it?
   Pass.
   "Okay, want to go play with cars?"
   I just turned to the door, had to step down the counter to reach it, but
race you to the garage?
   Yeah.  "SHR!"
   That was fast.  The unspoken agreement was to wait, as long as he could
stand it.  I don't even care at this point, he's kissing me, and holding my
arms, so I back up, get up on the still warm hood, or the metal nose.  In
front of the hood, but it's down.  Motor's not running, but yeah.  I heard.
   My sister gave the best account, you can the keys out, and fire her up,
on the rubber break?
   "Huh!" yeah, knock me up, and make you Mine for 18 years.  I'll take it,
kids, all the mistresses you want, want me to watch?  I can probably find a
bisexual girl, for him.  One he likes, I'm not bisexual, I'm straight.  Out
the front door, across the street, and right into the arms of the best lay
in town.
   Because I got here first.  Don't think I didn't see you ladies lined up
around the block, but he's mine now.  No going back, he grabbed me, and
felt me up, and kissing me like I always wanted, but all I can think about
is how I can use this on him.
   I'm 13, stay with me or go to jail.
   My terms, you can get all the strange you want.
   Dale (MG Oral)
   "Okay, so you're not getting fucked up, any like this?"
   "Not any more fucked up," she grinned.  Like her sister, when she was
that age.  "Get it out, I want to see it, feel it, taste it." She slid
down, off the front clip, so I backed up.
   "In here?" Never had a problem with it before.
   "I scrubbed your kitchen floor on my knees." She turned, me, by my belt,
and I backed up to the car.  "In here."
   She went down, on her knees, and right on it.  Semi-hard, I'd say, but
she kissed, and sucked in the head, then licked the underside.
   Not her first blowjob.  Like the cosplay, she's just too good at it. 
What I missed over the last 4 years, I can't say, but she didn't spend it
pining away in a tower.  "SLPbB!"
   "Uh!" Slapped up on her nuckles, holding up my shirt, then helping me
pull it off.  "AURGH!" Right in my chest.  Just feeling it, not like
breasts at all.  I've done plenty of that, but petting down, deep with her
fingertips, so I could feel the strands of muscle underneath.
   "Oh," she looked down, and groped my biceps, then "HUH!" When I flexed
them.  "Hehahihn!" Her nails are short, and rough.  As if she bites them,
but I never seen her bite them, though it could be a new habit, but I just
can't believe how she turned out.  Little Elane, I though it was good
enough if she didn't see us, but she heard.  You know, when her sister had
to watch her.
   Booty call, she knew she could call me, and I'd cum running, but.
   "Let me taste you." I felt up to her underwear, and rolled my thumbtips
under the edge.  Had to redo the left side, it rolled back out, so I could
slip them back, and over her nice soft smooth bubble bottom.
   Okay, I can't say I haven't noticed.  I just didn't even think she'd
ever be quite so willing when I got back.  Didn't really think about her,
and;
   "Did you do my sister first, or my mom?"
   "Your aunt, actually."
   "Oh," she thought, "Makes sense." Jealousy, I guess.  What all I know
about the female mind, it ain't that.  "She molested you?" Hey, I thought I
was getting a blowjob, bot an interrogation.  "NHM!" So, I slipped my hand
up her skirt, and caught it on my wrist to hold up.  And touch her.
   "When she was 14." and a lot less developed.
   "Which would make you, what?" She thought.
   "Twelve."
   "She molested you."
   "Yeah." I suppose she did.  "I didn't think about it that way," ever
before, "But yeah.  She molested me."
   "How long?"
   "Once, I don't know, a couple hours?"
   "Well, she wasn't living with us.  Over at my house?"
   "Yeah, I went over there to hang out, and you.  You weren't even born
yet."
   "Is that what's giving you trouble?  Look, I don't care about that, but
did she make you do it with Lena?"
   "Hh, no.  But she chaperoned, the first time."
   "Yeah, me too."
   "Oh."
   "So yeah, you're guilt free, on me.  We're both her victims."
   "Oh." Okay.
   "You have a rubber?"
   "You're really a virgin?"
   "Well, physically.  She got a hymen fetish after you left."
   Took her virginity.
   "Well, she didn't make me, but she.  Encouraged it."
   "Hh, yeah.  Well, then she insisted on teaching them, how to do it,
without breaking it."
   "And molested you."
   "Yeah.  It really wasn't about you, or the other boys, it was about us."
   "It fucked me up, though.  For a while after that, if I hadn't come down
with PTSD, then they never would have found it."
   "Came down with PTSD?"
   "Or however you say it."
   "No, you were traumatized, but my aunt tramatized you first."
   "No she didn't, it was sex."
   "No, it was sex abuse.  She hurt you, as much as cleaning up after
ambushes, you went in with PTSD."
   "Oh."
   "Why you acted out sexually after that."
   "Well, how do you know all about it?"
   "I watched it happen?  Well not the sex, but how they treated you, and
how you reacted.  My aunt as the proper device for breaking the hymen, then
my sister as her call in sex-toy whenever she got horny.  My mom?"
   "Just one.  Huh, you remember when your father left."
   "Threatened divorce?"
   "Yeah." Pretty much just a booty call.  "Sorry."
   "Figures." She thought, "You're right, though.  If not for your battle
fatigue, I never would've seen it as PTSD, neither." So, the VA doctors are
actually good for something.  Once in a while.  "You're a sex addict." She
pulled up her underwear.
   "But we didn't even have sex." She barely sucked my dick.
   "Exactly.  You're right, it's inappropriate.  Huh!  I'm sorry."
   "What, why?" I almost finished with my belt, but stopped at the bottom
of the steps.
   "I didn't know, but I don't just want to be your fix."
   Laney (G/M MC)
   Guilt, he's really sensitive to guilt.
   Make me wait, okay, now you can wait with a throbber of a fuckstick, and
OMG.  Okay, yeah.  It's even a little scary.  Cold feet, but there's
imagining, then there's holding it in my hands, and trying to get a
significant ammount in my mouth.
   I heard, he's gifted.  Well endowed, no reason to think that looking at
him, but large.  It might even hurt.  I can't be sure it's the kind I'll
like because I never had anything inside me before.
   No, this is the right way to do it, but it's not going anywhere, and
there's a lot more we can do while I save it.
   "You're right, I shouldn't have."
   Honestly took him long enough, I'm amazed how long he could control
himself, but from the moment he grabbed me I knew he was Mine.
   "Oh, I didn't mind that, but I want your Heart.  And you need to stop
breaking them with your love it and leaveitism."
   "Oh, is that your professional opinion, doctor?"
   "Hihihn!  Yeah.  Not the offical name for it, just something I've been
kicking around, but you need to settle down, and learn to love someone
other than yourself."
   "You're calling me a narcissist, you histrionic borderline psychopath?"
   Okay, "Uh?" Actually pretty good!  "Can you love?  That's the question
you should be asking yourself."
   "You don't love me."
   "No, I shouldn't, on so many levels you haven't come close to scratching
the surface of, but I don't have to understand it.  You can't feel this,
but I can.  I just want to know if you're capable of it."
   "But;"
   ...
   "Yes?"
   "You're 13."
   "Trained by one of the worst, honey.  You think you know her, because
she molested you once, and talked you into deflowering my sister, but I
grew up with her.  You know, actually you should know this, before any
further physical contact.  I know you, I have a PHD from devoting my life,
or the vast majority of my life, to understanding you.  And I still love
you."
   "Oh." Give him a minute, but this whole time I've been pacing, and
gravitating over to the hall.  To the bedrooms, and bathroom, I've been
here before, for years, but it's changed.  To his bedroom, now the master
bedroom, with it's own door to the bathroom.
   "Nh!" I barely got my panties down.
   I like this cat, and mouse.
   "Nhihihm!" I got another pounce out of him!  Turned around, and just
flopped on the bed, but he took off my shoes, and slipped my feet out of my
underwear.  "Smell them."
   "Snh!"
   "Smell how sexy I am for you?"
   "Yeah," he dropped them, and got down between my legs, so I spread them,
and let the hem slip up.  Glad I didn't do the pantie hose, stockings, or
leggings.  Except in the garage, hardwood is not concrete, it was filthy,
but I got turned on, he got turned on, now it's time for the bed.
   "Hah!" And I heard.  He knows how to eat out a girl, he loves it, and
he's very very good at it.  I'll ask him later about his secrets, but very
thorough, and very extremely pleasurable.  I was practically already
getting off on all this.
   Romance?  I don't know, the games.  The chase, the verbal sparring, and
subtle insults, everything I had to do to get his face between my thighs,
and my skirt up.  To trap his head and there, and pull it tight.  With my
hands on my legs.
   "Hrdr."
   "MLH!" He nodded.
   Good boy, I cradled his head, thro the skirt, and put my legs up.  On
his back.
   "NGH!" Make it hurt.  Fuck your face.  Your damned handsome grinning
sexy face.  "Yeah!"
   "Uh!" He pushed me off, and panted.  "That's a little too rough."
   "Then get it out where I can suck it.  Here." Pulled his belt, "Lay
down."
   This damned thing, pull the strings on the cocktail apron first,
"Hihim!" Then the front of it off, so it hangs loose, but there it is.
   "Huh!"
   Pounce.
   "MLWMH!" Old spit, but that wrinses right off, and I have to go deeper
to taste his sweat again.  "QRWKG!" ...  "KUh!" Let it roll down my tongue,
and hold it down, to "LAHhlhah!" Lick his balls, and up through the salty
curls to the bare shaft, and skin wrinkling to bunch up into the cleft in
the end.  "Hhah," Panting, and gasping a breath in over the salty, musky
sweaty dick flavor so I can smell it.  And maybe a little drool dropped on
his pubes.  "Mhrhrhrh!" Nice thich rough patch of pubes to scrub with my
knuckles with a couple pumps, and sucking it in again.
   Oh, fuck yeah.  Oral sex, like the best sex, so far.  "Huh!" Just all
that cock where I can feel it, and suck it, and taste it.  When I can get
it in the other end, but god, am I dripping?  "HuhUhUhUHN!" My fingers
slip, and slide through it fast, and wet enough, sure there's some spit in
there, but, "Snh!" God I'm stinking.  So, wipe it on his lip, and get up
where I can get them together.  Eventually.
   "Huh!  You don't have to.  Hlp?" A little drool there, "Do anything."
   I'll fuck you.
   Dale (MG Trig FB ffB Mole)
   Breakthrough: I didn't want to feel like a child molestor, but.  I'm
like a child molestor, but my age range is more like 12-14, just a little
older than a girl.  And the girls in that family, well if I have a type.
That whole family.  She doesn't look like her aunt, but now she reminds
me of her.  Not the way she looks, the way she acts.  She didn't make me
feel like a kid again, but reminded me how it felt.  When I was a kid, and
they molested me.
   They didn't make me, or ask me to do her sister.  I just did, when the
time came.  It's her turn, but I don't really care for the thought that I'm
programmed like that.  So, I didn't until the second time she turned her
back, and this time she led me to the bedroom, but.
   I didn't even decide to, there was no choice on my part to grab her,
kiss her, make love to her.
   "Yeah." I felt up her sides, "I love you too."
   Huh, I just didn't think.  They raped me, because you don't think about
teenage girls raping prepubescent boys, but.  "Snh."
   "Why are you crying?"
   "I don't know, it's just so beautiful." She made me.  A sex slave, it's
not even me any more, I am the cock.  It just takes over, and these. 
Women, can't even call her a girl any more, it's not about a peice of
flesh.
   "You don't have to do anything."
   I just had it, holding over me, for all these years.  What I did to
Lena. "She raped me." Too, just like her aunt taught her, I don't know if
she made her, but she got off on it.  Too, she made me a womanizer, but she
raped me, repeatedly to do it.  She took my innocense, and all of a sudden
I feel violated, but now it's such a relief.
   Almost a nice, familiar feeling, I expected from coming home.  Home
isn't a place, this house is just a building.  It's the people, who weren't
here, and I try to avoid them right out front, but that constant stress. 
Her mother isn't too bad, that was just.  Like sex, for hire, OMG she made
me a whore!?
   "Uh!" The fuck?  "Huhn!" She played with it, on my abs, and caught it in
her fingers, while it was still shooting out.
   "HhHhH!" I shuddered.  "I'm your's." I looked up, and she looked up.  In
her eyes, her smile, so much more like her mothers', for how much she's
really like her aunt.  "Do whatever you want to me."
   This.  This is better than love.  Is that what all that housework was
for?
   I never thought, that this is what I missed.  Sex, I didn't miss that.
Every other month, I got chances, and took them.
   This is more than sex, she's so devoted to me, and loyal, and she says
she understands me.
   Right, I scoffed, but.  The vast majority of her life.  Devoted to me.
I'm more than flattered.
   I can just hope to be as devoted to her.
   Maybe that's what it's all about?  Is that why I never learned to love?
   Lanie (G Brag)
   "You didn't get off?"
   "Oh," I giggled, "Yeah I did.  Huh!  I need a shower." He sat up,
nodded, then shook his head, to clear it.  "You okay, alone?"
   "Yeah, uh." He just looked at his belly.  "Huh!"
   "Here, let my clean that up first."
   "I think, I need to think about it, a while."
   "Mhm?  Slhp!" That's most of it, "Mhn!"
   Cum, but this is like.  Triumph!  "Huh!"
   "I'll be right out." So, I lay back on the bed, and swirled my
fingertips around in my dripping croth.  "Huh!" Yeah, probably me too.
   That was epic!  What a mindfuc, I mean I know most of it, but.  "Huh!" I
just used it, to fuck his mine.
   She raped him.  He says, like he just realized that, but.  Wow, okay, I
used it, but.  "She really raped you?" Seriously?
   "They both did." He slouched behind the shower curtain.  "Lena, too."
   "How?" I guss I can play with myself in the bathroom, but now there's
steam floating up in the top, and he's in the water, running it over his
hair.
   "Huh, it wasn't violent, that's why I didn't realize.  "Ngh!  God, I
raped them too.  All those girls, those poor poor girls.  Uhuhuhnhn!"
   Like a man, but fuck it.  Better than sex, even better than those 3
little words: You were right, love, yeah I love this.  But now, I have to
admit, at least to myself I'm torturing him.  Not because he deserves it, I
can sympathise, but because I can, and I really like it.
   Psychopath?  Maybe, but not borderline anything.  More powerful than
romance, sex is just my best weapon, but she raped him.  They did, "How?"
Again.
   "I lied to them.  Huh!  I talked about love, said anything to get in
their pants, and broke their hearts." So, I said that enough times.  That
seed blossomed, into a rose bush.  Probably, pretty but thorny, cold use a
little trim, "You didn't know what you're doing."
   "Yeah, but I raped them!" He sobbed, and my heart sang.  Twist it back,
so the ratchet catches, and give it another twist.
   "Because they raped you.  You done in there?"
   "Yeah, sorry."
   "Good, because I'm feeling a little dirty." He wouldn't look up at me,
see my grin.  But I have him.  The guilt finally set in, now he feels like
a monster, so he'll do anything.  Anything I want, I need to think about
what's next.
   And finger myself off real quick, while I'm in here.
   SPAT "NH,hnhHnHN HN HN!  HUhhhhhhh!" Lean up in the corner.  "Huh!  Huh!
Huh!" Maybe it just cums so quick, and easy because I'm excited, but on top
of just destroying and enslaving him, making My man, it's incredible. 
"Hah, han, nh!" Swallow, and wash down the cum tang still in my mouth.
   I don't care, and I know maybe half of where he's been.  Not sluts, he
doesn't have to scrap the slut bucket, given half the cance he can talk
himself into just about any woman, or at least wear down her resistance
until she's forced to consent.
   That rape.  That I just did to him.
   There it is again, that beter than sex feeling, this.  "God!" must feel
like this.  "Huh!"
   "Huh?" He's gone, ran away, maybe back to the garage, but took his
britches with him.
   "Hm, sh?  SnhHHHH!" No piss stains, hershey squirts, or fart oder.  Just
his manyl sex sweat, still fairly fresh.  And my panties, "Snhhhh!" Then
both together, rubbed hard to heat up with friction, and "Hihihn!" Blend
the smells together.  "SNHHHH!  Yeah." We smell wonderful together.
   ;
   {Skipping at least a decade, or 2.  Sorry?  Not really missing all that
much, but a failed relationship, and literal years pining over a "Broken
Heart." Skip it:}
   Ivana
   My name is not important, I prefer no names, but I guess it's true.  I'm
a slut, I went to school, I know what they mean by it, and I refused to be
shamed for my sexual appetite.  It's a healthy appetite, but unfortunately
people, by which I mean men, judge me, and then make all these wrong
assumptions.  I'm a "Rich bitch," as well.  Which is to say professional, I
have a degree, and make good money, on my own.  Without a man, I don't need
to depend on them, to earn a living, knock me up, and give some meaning to
my life.  I just need to fuck one, every once in a while.  However, they
try to take over, insist on taking me out to dinner, or whatever.  You like
the opera?  Because I got tickets!
   I don't have time for that.  For hours of someone singing in Italian,
sitting and listen to them talk about their stock portfolio, or fantasy
sports team, finally get home for maybe 5 minutes in the sack, and find out
if they want to stay the night, or not.  I don't have time for any of that,
I have a libido.  I tried pleasuring myself, bought toys, and while they
feel all right, they don't satisfy what I really want.  A good fuck.  Is
that too much to ask?  Just a good fuck, without all the attempts at
seduction.
   I suppose I was spoiled.  In college I got lucky, a lot.  Sex was new,
and exciting, I liked it a lot, and it just wasn't all that hard to get. 
College boys, they know what they want, hell they'll rape you if you give
them half a chance, but I didn't.  I got condoms, learned how to use them,
and fucked them.  Whenever I want, but then I left.  Graduated, got a
degree, and started working, for myself.  I thought the course load was
stressful!  Finals?  Yeah, that's nothing compared to interning, being sent
for coffee, and lunch, AND having assignments to take care of, I finally
hauled off, and fucked a guy at work.
   Just some guy, I didn't care.  I just found out, for finals, that
nothing clears my head like a good hard fuck.  He was there, he flirted
with me something fierce, there was an empty office we could get into, and
we did it.  Big mistake.  Office romance?  Well, that's not what it was, he
thought it was.  That I finally gave into his charms, and loved him, but
no. I needed it, he was there, then he made it impossible to work there. 
So, I got him fired.  Sexual harassment, that's exactly what it was, don't
think that 1 quicky on break constitutes a relationship.
   I told him to stop, warned him, everyone in the building saw and heard
about, eventually he had to go.  Thank god he never found out where I live,
I moved anyway, but what is it, exactly about sex, then makes men stupid,
and emotional like that?  I was there, it wasn't beautiful, it was just a
quick office fuck.  On the desk, he wasn't even that good at it.  Made me
do all the work, felt up my bra a lot, and that's about it.  It certainly
wasn't worth getting stalked, harassed, propositioned, and groped on a
daily basis for weeks, and that didn't help me at work.
   But, I got some vacation days, and I had to move, without any of that
stress, and fear that he'd finally snap.  Go psycho, and finally try to
hurt me, or kill me, because I don't love him.
   "Wh!" I see it's going to take a lot to get over that.  I usually have
more control over my emotions, but there's a boy, in my building.  Oh,
don't even think that, he's 18, or 19, moved out on his parents and
everything, but I hadn't gotten any for weeks.  He was always so nice, and
respectful, even though he obviously looked at me, and thought about me. 
Romantically, or sexually, it doesn't really matter, he's willing, and I'm
moving, so it may be his last chance.  To get with me, so he'll be willing.
   No strings attached.  I have time for a boyfriend, for about a week.  9
days, a workweek, and 2 weekends, but then, I have to go back to work, and
I didn't mean to break his heart.  I told him, from the beginning, just
sex, then I'm gone, but he helped me move, and get over being stalked and
harassed at work.  I needed it, he got feelings for me anyway, and in the
end, I had to break his heart.  "Huh!" Men.  My theory is they're never
taught to deal with emotions, as adults.  It's "Not manly," so in some ways
a lot of them are still childishly immature, when it comes to romantic
feelings.
   I'm not, I just can't afford them.  Money's not the issue, I don't work
for money either, I certainly don't want to marry up, and owe him kids for
the rest of my life, I even got my tubes tied.  I don't have the time, I
can't afford to just lay around, and wait for things to happen.  I don't
have it in me, I have to stay busy, and work off all this energy I seem to
have been born with.  Keeps me fit?  Guys think I'm nervous on dates,
because I fidgit.  No, I fidget because I have to sit still, and I can't
stand sitting still.
   "Relax." He's nervous.  On my couch, and sweaty from helping me move
boxes, but I kiss him anyway.  When I just want to fuck, but we have to do
these thing first, for some reason.  To get him in the mood, he wants to
kiss, and he turns out to be pretty good at it, when really it just gives
me something to do with my mouth while I get his pants open, and pull it
out.
   "Huh!" Hard.  "Take off your shirt."
   It's, a penis.  Ask me why I need it so, but I need it, so much, and
barely able to get my sweat pants down with my underwear.  "Put this on."
I'm wet, enough.  I have lube, and he has a tongue, but thankfully, we
don't have to stop for that.  Just a quick suck to get him wet, pull it out
so there's a little to slip back and forth, then climb on, and get him
inside me.
   "Huh!" It's not even a particularly large one.  Or small, it's enough.
He gets my shirt up, I dressed for moving.  Dust, and even some mold I
didn't know about in the corner, because I must have spilled something, and
it flowed back in the corner, but "Uhh!" Finally, I had him inside me.  And
I don't care, about anything, like this.  It's nice for a change, a few
moments, I don't even care about being satisfied.  I don't get this enough.
"Huhhhh!" Didn't even wear a bra, and he noticed.  Not that I was trying to
turn him on, I thought about it, but it's my time off.
   My much needed time off, no bra, no makeup, no clothes to look
professional, just comfort, and time to enjoy it.  A good fuck, that's all
I needed to get my head back in the game, is a good fuck.
   PLP!  "Uh!" PLP "Huh!" Shaking my breats in his hands, and hopping to
withdraw enough.  I suppose about half, or not even that, but just enough
to sink back down, and feel him stab deep inside me, again, and again.  He
can't go any deper, with my bottom splashing in my lap, but that feels
magnificent too, and I don't want to stop.  Find a better position for
deeper penetration, just fuck.  Him, harder, and faster, to make up for the
depth, and I get a little, ripple up to my deadend if he can't reach it
directly, but "Ohh, yes!" Huh!
   I needed this, a man.  Any one will do, but that's why a dildo won't do
it.  Even a vibrator, or some high tech gizmo with a vibrating clit brush,
and a butplug.  It' not about the dick, I love it, his is plenty, but
that's not it.  All of it, I need a man attached, with hands, and arms, and
sweat, even a little muscularute in his chest, and don't think I didn't
notice.  He works out, I don't know where, no weights in his apartment, but
he has a bike, gets dressed up in short shorts to show off his hard hairy
legs, a tank-top that hangs out enough I could catch delightful little
peeks in the side.  See the muscle, and even a nipple.
   All right guys, we look too.  I know all the clothes, and stories, and
movies, and advertizing focuses on the women, but we're not just.  Fuck
dolls to be appreciated, and obediently lay down whenever the mood takes
you.  I'm a feminist, there I said it.  That means we can be honest about
it.  I look, at young guys, never did anything about it while we're in the
same building, but now that I'm moving, I can appreciate what I've always
looked on, and wanted.  He has a great body, really nice strong hands, with
rough fingers, and a nice firm pillow, or two on his chest.  With small
hard dark nipples with a few hairs curling out around them.
   Not a lot, I don't really care one way or another, there's definitely
too hairy, and I even been with some who shaved.  Their chest, he has a
little in the middle too, but it's something extra.  A little more to play
with, twirl with my fingers, and hold up to his face.  His lips, his mouth.
"Sock them, get them wet.  Hh, yeah." I switched hands, and rubbed my
fingertips while he sucked the tother 2.  On my thumb, so they're wet
enough to slip on his nipple.  Then his nippled, both of them.  "Oh yeah,
that's good." He closed his eyes, but that's another thing.  Men have
nipples too.  They work, just like nipples.  You don't have to have tits
behind them, in fact it's a lot easier in the corners of some nice strong
chest muscles so they don't roll around, and slip out of the way.
   "Ohhhn," he swallowed, "Ngh!  Huh!"
   I stopped, closed my eyes, to feel it.  "Yup." Nodded.  He twitched,
inside me.  Filled up the rubber.  "Huh!" I got up.
   "But," he sat up, "You didn't get off?"
   "I don't have to," I cleared my head, "I'm satisfied."
   "Well I'm not."
   "Look, son."
   "Just hear me out, all right?  Huh!  I don't, I didn't agree to help you
to get layed.  That was great, but I don't want to just blow a load and go,
like.  I don't know what kinds of guys you're used to, but if we're going
to do it.  Huh!  I want to get you off.  More than anything, I want to feel
you, your orgasm, taste it, and leave you completely satisfied.  That's sex
to me.  Huh!  I love the female orgasm." He looked so excited!  "More than
anything, that's what I want.  You don't even have to pay me for this, if I
can make you cum."
   "Seriously." He just nodded.  "Huh!" I don't know what to say, "Well,"
that doesn't sound too bad, "Uh.  Don't you have to recover, or something?"
He did just get off, still haning out, in the full rubber.
   "Not to taste you."
   "You mean." Oral sex, of course.  I don't.  No, I do.  In fact, have
time for this.  "Huh!  You can try it.  If it means that much to you, but
honestly, that doesn't get me off." It never did.
   "I don't care, I want to, taste you.  It'll help me get it up again."
   "Fine," I pulled my feet out of my swets, and the top off.  Just an old
teeshirt, if I hadn't bought it myself, you'd never know what the logo was
before it dried out, and flaked off.
   "Oh!"
   "What?"
   "It's beautiful!"
   "What, my."
   "Huh!  Just come here.  Snh!  Huh!" He was so excited, and his breath
between my legs, felt rather nice as well.  "Huhlumhuh!"
   "Oh!" Ask me what he did different.  I don't know, I even tried it with
girls.  Lesbians, never even turned me on, before.  You would think, they'd
be better at it than some kid that didn't even make it into college, but
"Oh!  Fugh!"
   "Yeah, slugh!"
   "Huh!" My knees went weak, so I bumped my forehead, and his face came
out from between my legs.  "Ngh, khuh!" I cleared my throat, and swallowed
it.  "Huh!  Cummon." I helped him up, and took him by the hand, to my bed.
   For the first time, it wasn't just to get me wet.  Quickly, I can do
that myself, but it can take a while to run out.  But this, it wasn't as
good as fucking, but.  "Mmh!" God, he was good at it.  "Mrrh!  Yeah.  Nh!
Just, uh!  Kepp, huh!" I couldn't talk.  I'm not normally, much of a
talker. I feel lucky enough just to get layed often enough, but I just
wanted to encourage him?  "Ohyeah, don't stop!  Huhn!" My hips bucked, all
by themselves.  Which made him stop, find it again, I just couldn't help
it. I didn't want to stop him, make him have to start over, I just couldn't
control my hips.
   So, I put my legs down.  Spread wide, so I couldn't.  It wasn't very
comfortable, but I couldn't move, if I wanted to.  I even got a cram, or
both sides, my buttocs clenched so hard they ached.
   When he sucked me off.
   "HAH AHHHH, NYAHHH!  Fugh!" I had to put my legs up, to stretch out the
cramps, but, "OOOOOHH!" Even that felt fantastic, the releif!  "Hah!" But
that ment bucking again, but he had his finger in me then, and it was like
fucking, enough like fucking, and his fingers scrubbed so hard on my clit,
I didn't even finish the first one before.
   "NGH?  NhaaAAEEIGH YAGH!" Fuck!  "Fuck?  Yes, yeas
yeanyeahyeahyeheyehyeh augh!"
   Finally it was over.  "Huh!" For a seccond, "Huh!" there, i "Huh!" Just
wanted it to end.  But he held me, and kissed me, and gently fondled my
heaving burning chest.  "Hih hihn him!" I nodded, "Where on earth did you
ever learn to fuck like that?"
   "From you?" He kissed my cheek, and licked, a tear.  I'm crying?
   "Snh?"
   I'm weeping!  He fucked me until I cried.
   "Huh!"
   "There's no trick to it, I just.  Wanted to please you so much.  So," he
shrugged, "I did." Like it was nothing.
   It was not nothing.
   "I guess you felt that passion too."
   "Huh!" Shouldn't have said that: "I could get used to this." But I
kissed him.  For a moment, I thought I felt some of that 'passion.' He
called it.  Suck a silly concept, but he's young, idealistic, and one hell
of a good fuck.  And suck, in bed.
   I had time, for that.  A little, breifly, but then I had to go back to
my life.  And he had his to get on with, it never would have worked, but
that's why I did it to him.  I am sorry, I led him on, and maybe implied
that it might continue.  Longer, than I needed him, just those few
wonderful days we had together before I had to break his heart.
   I'm sorry, but it's better some day.  I hope some day he can understand,
and forgive me.
   Herve' (FM IR Pros)
   I was just on the corner, starting on my first cup of coffee, talking to
the guys.  Like any day, there is not much work, more guys than jobs, but
if you don't go there, and wait, you don't get any.  We need the money, I
have a family, at home too, and times are tough.  It is not enough, day
labor, I could get more at one of the offices, but I do not have all the
papers they want.
   I am American, Mexican, but American.  I have a green card, but that is
not all they want for me to prove it at Manpower, Kelly, or even Labor
Ready.  These things take money too, which is better spent on my family. 
So, we stand behind the gas station, where we are welcome, and we wait, for
work.
   "You speek English?"
   "Yes," I say first, and walk up to her car.  The rest of the guys lined
up behind me, "How many, do you need?"
   "Just one, you'll do." I had to lean down, to see her in her expensive
German sedan.  Leather seats, money, or married to money, very nice gold
watch, like a bracelet instead of a jewel, but set off by stones in the
chain around her wrist.  She checked it, and pulled on the shift lever. 
"Well, get in."
   I took off my belt, and left it under my legs, careful not to scratch,
or scrape her seat with my tools, and closed the door.
   "What sort of work?"
   "Oh, I'm moving.  Well, I moved, but there's still some heavy furniture
out of place I need a little help with."
   "How long?"
   "Shouldn't be but a couple hours, is $50.00 all right?"
   "Yes," more would be better, but for a couple hours, I could head back,
and wait for more work.
   "Have you been drinking?"
   "No." I held up my thermos, "Is coffee." We pulled up to a light, so she
held down the break.  "Let me smell your breath."
   "Huh?"
   She just nodded, turned back to the light.  "Good, I saw your amigos,
with a case of buds." Green, so she drove out.
   "They are drunks," but my friends, "But they have to work." With steady
hands, "They have to drink, o get the shakes."
   "I understand, but I prefer you are sobor, for this." She winked.
   "It is far?"
   "Not that far, but.  Yes, I have an apartment.  It isn't downtown." Best
corner, were there is the most work, is downtown.  "You are from Mejico?"
   "Yes, La Pesca."
   "Where is that?"
   "The gulf coast, between Tampico, and Brownsville Texas."
   "Is that where you crossed over?"
   "The border?  No, we wen through Monterrey, and Laredo."
   "How long have you been here, in the states."
   "6 year." Nearly seven.
   "Your English is very good."
   "Oh, we speak English.  At home, es Spanish too, but we have Touristas,
on the golf coast, so close to Texas, and south padre island."
   "Oh."
   That, conversation, ended.  We did not talk, after that, until we were
there.  At her apartment, but not like an apartment Complex.  A building,
like the high rizes downtown, but not downtown.  Almost the suburbs.  "This
is, a hotel?" By the lobby, it looks like a hotel.
   "It was a hospital building.  Then the hospital moved, you know
Presbyterian, over by the highways?"
   "Yes, my neices and nephiew were born there."
   "Are you married?"
   "Divorced." Money, it is always money, here.
   "I never married.  I don't have the time, normally, but." The elevator
came.  "Huh!  Sometimes, I need a man around the house."
   The door closed, and I turned around.  Brought my tool belt, but just
held it, but she grabbed me, and felt mi culo.
   "Uh," I step back, against the wall, and hold my tools up.  "What is?"
In front of my, but she just put my hands down, with hers, and I could not
back away, any further.
   "Hhuh!" I turned away, so she only kissed my cheek.  "I'm sorry, I must
be getting, mixed signals."
   I nodded, and stepped around to the corner, but it felt tight, and
confining in there.  Alone, with her.  "Is okay." But I came to work, and I
do not know her.  American women, I do not know them.  Very well, they are
different, and she is rich.  She has money, but "I am not a whore."
   "Okay?" Finally the door open, and I have my tools on, "It's right down
here." She has her keys out.  Does no say anything, at the door, until I
follow her in, and she close it.  "I'm sorry.  I don't know what came over
me, but." She bit her lip, "I'm sorry.  I don't want to make you
uncomfortable."
   I look around, but is mostly boxes.  Half empty, everywhere, and the
furniture she mention, but covered with things, pull out of boxes.  None of
it looks to heavy for her to move her self, and it will not be easy, with
all those things piled on top of it.  "Okay," don't mention it, "This?" I
patted the couch.
   "Well, we can start there." I pick up a lamp, which is safe where it is,
but can roll, when we move it.  "Just put that, over there on the side
table."
   In the corner, by it self, so not on the side of anything, but I have to
move things to make a place for it.  Without it valling, it is like a vase,
only with a lamp in top instead of water and flower.  I plug it in the
outlet, while she dig in a box and unwrap the top of it.  "There," she
screw it on, but it is glass, and metal, like the windows at church, and
very fragile.
   "Oh." She does not stop.  This time, she touch my back, with her chest,
but is no accident.  "I like you," she clear the couch.  "Mexican
Americans. Push it back.  To the walls in the corner, and step aside, where
I can see it.  Yes, that will do.  Now, help me with this couch."
   I have work, in places that are loud, and dirty.  So full of smoke, or
dust we have to wear masks.  Even for the sewage company, before my Visa
expire, and I lose that job.  It is, one of these things, you put up with
for work.
   "I have racist friends, or co-workers, actually.  I wouldn't associate
with them otherwise, but I respect you.  Especially, they call you lazy,
but every Mexican American I know, or have worked with, you are all so
loyal, hard working, and make white Americans look lazy in comparison."
   "Yes?" In Mexico, we no have Sex Harassment.  That is a Mericon thing,
there a man desire a woman, let her know, and she let him know she
appreciate it.  How I met my wife, or ex wife, but she want the American
Dream.  She have that, mi employer.  Today.
   "Nh!  Thanks." She sit on the arm, as she did over there, and "Bring me
that box." Pointed.  On the coffee table, "And go ahead and pull the table
over her to." Put the box down on the couch.
   But, "Uh!?" I bump inot her.  Did no know she was there, behind me, to
bump into.
   "Oh!  Hehuhah!" She push me, mi culo, and get out of the way, but was no
on accident.  I would not have, had she not stood there, got in the way to
bump my culo.  And touch it again, pushing me back, but.
   "Huh!" I just turn around, and sit down.  "$200.00."
   "What?  That's exorbident.  $50.00."
   "You offor mi fifty for helping you move, no for sex."
   I am no whore, but she treat me like one.
   "Aheuhuaha!  Who said anything about sex?"
   "You do.  You no say it, but I know whores.  I am no whore, but if you
want to treat me as one.  Then I need more money."
   "I ment $50 more."
   I have heard.  There are women, like these.  Here, and in Mexico, who
like man whore.  Why there is man whore, and Putos.
   "One honred, fifty."
   "Deal." I am not Puto.  Homosexual, either.  I know, have friends, and
cousin.  Who is, but she is no man.  Ahe is woman, with money, and I need
the money.  Is worth a hundred, the fifty is worth the time, but $100.00
can go to my family, in Mexico.  Is a lot of money there.  "I just, need a
little atention.  Come here, take your tools off."
   I think I even hear of her.  Stories, the men talk.  Make up story, I
never believe in this one.  But you hear of men find work, and this.  A
little extra money, on the side.  I am no whore, but.  Is good money, and
she is.  Good looking, for a blanca.  Anglo woman, I prefer a good Mexico
woman.  Like she say, loyal, hard working, like me.  She is lazy, but
honest.  Americon white Americans are lazy, and call us lazy.
   Just close my eyes.
   "Yumwmwmwn!  Smp!  Hah!" I no even, do anything.  She do, she make me
feel.  Like a woman, this bother me.  I am a man, and man do this.  Whore
work, is work, man do to.  I am a whore, now, but is no it.
   She do, the man part.  Like a dance, she lead, and now.  I understand,
better.  Before, is no work.  Sex for money, is no hard, yes?
   "What's wrong, don't you like it?"
   "Yes." No.  Is work.  I no like work, but I work.  I must.  Is no easy
as you think.
   Try to think of something.  Sexy for her, to stand up for her.  Give her
what she want, so I can go.  Yes, nice loyal hard working Mexico woman. 
Not a money loving whore with a ring.  Me exo.  The whore, she may be
working now, stand on the corner, and wait to get pick up by a man, the
mens, like the whore she is.
   The whore I am now.
   "Mhn spb!"
   I do no know, why that work.  It does, I do, have it stand up for her,
and her pants down now.
   "Come here, stud."
   On the couch, still cover with her things, but she push the box off.  So
there is a place, on the end.  She lay back, pull her legs out, and drop
her pants.  Her underwear, and her smell.
   She smell strong, of sex.  I need that, yes I can stay up now.  "Snh!"
She smell like woman, any woman, here or there.  Sex.
   "Huh!  Get me wet." Pulling my face, her fingers in my hair, then my
head.  Down.
   I do this, for money.  I am a whore.  I am a whore!
   "Myum!"
   I do this for my wife, she already wet.  I do no need, my tongue, my
spit to make her wet.  But I am the whore, and she is my boss.  I have to
earn my money.
   I have not felt, this young, in sex, for a long time.  Is like, when I
first start, seeing women, and thinking about them.  Naked, kissing them,
hugging their breast, and sex.  The first time, always the best.  This is
the best.  Better than, the first time I am a whore.
   She make me a whore.  Her whore.  It is hard, at first.  But then, it no
feel like work.
   "Huh!" She push me off.
   "Is okay?"
   "Yeah, get on the table.  And hand me my purse." She take off her shirt,
and bra.  and dig around in her purse.
   I pull it, a la verga, for the sex.  She is, sexy now.  Pale, under the
clothes, verry white, but so I see, every line, every shadow in her body
better.  Yes, she is sexy.  I can do this, is no like work.
   I am a Whore!
   "Put this on."
   A condom, I do not like them, but I am her whore, and.  She have sex,
with whores.  Manwhore, Putos.  So, is good idea, and she have my money.
   "You're the boss.  Miss."
   "No names."
   "Okay."
   "Shut up and let me think."
   Just nod, I no need to do, anything.  She suck my, more to get it wet,
but quick, and spit.  Wipe it around with her hand, but then she stand up.
   "Over here," She turn, my legs.  On the corner, where the box was, but
there is, cloth, and blankets.  Winter blanket on top, so I put my head up.
   "Ah!" She just sit down.  "Whohoohuhu!" Shakes, and giggles.  Attencion!
Stand up proud, salute, where he belong.  Mi soldier, me verga, "Huh, uh
huh!"
   She is no, skinny white woman.  She has, some.  Not like a good Mexico
woman, but mi boss.  She shook it, good.  Enough for what he has, no her
fault, but enough.  To watc, and feel, bouncing flat, and flexing tight. 
"Ngh!" Gripping, and relaxing, "Huh!" slipping down tight, then let go,
push up to grip, and sink back down on me verga.  Me puto verga.  Whore
penis.
   I am a whore.  I wonder, does she.  No, if she is, the woman I hear
about.  The rich one, with the silver mercedes, that pick up worker for
sex. May be why she, maybe she likes Carne Espana?
   "Uh!" No?  "I am sorry."
   "Uhuh!  No." she get up, then down.  "Huh!  Hihn!" Just pant on the
floor, "Just let me catch my breath.  That was great."
   "You no." Some, white American woman.  I date, some like latinos, she
does.  But some hold their breath, and I no always feel when they do, even
without this.  Disgusting plastic thing.  "Ugh!" I hate them.
   "Go get cleaned up." She got up, on her knees, but pulled up her sweat
pants.
   "Show me the bathroom?" I hold mine up, there is a toilet, to throw the
semenfish out.  Also, they call us dirty.  Dirty Mexican, because I am
brown.  It is not us that fill the gulf with garbage.  The rio, del norte,
they call Grand.  It is no Juarez, is Elpaso that fill it with shit, and
piss, garbage, and chemical.  I will no swim in it, but they blame it on
ES. Estados, not US.  United States.  They blame us, because they are
dirty, and lazy, and theives.  They steal from the whole world, and borrow
too.  Build a fence, then a wall, and demand we pay for it.
   We no want your stinking wall.  Your stinking river, we take your jobs,
your work, you give away, then blame us for taking your jobs.  See how that
work?
   Ameica is liars.  Everyone, because you all grow up, believe in that
lie. Well, this is the truth: You are everything you call us, and we are
everything you are not.
   So, yes.  I will fuck your woman, and take your money.  May be, some
day, the taxes in Mexico will pay for your stupid wall, but don't hold your
breath.  Take a swim in your shit river, and hold your breath for that.
   I am your whore, but you can blame you for that as well.
   I just need to make a living.
   "Ivana." (FM IR Work/Pros.)
   "Huh!" When will men learn it's not about the finish line?  He fucks
like a racehorce, short, thick.  Nice big fat uncircumcized burritto dick,
but always in a rush to get there first.
   So, I'm satisified, for now.  I got what I needed out of the way, so we
can get on with work.  Next time, I'll throw in another bill, but only if
he takes his time.
   That's what it's about, for me.  What I'm paying him for, his time.  The
more time fucking, the more I get to enjoy it.
   He'll learn, but this stuff isn't moving itself in.
   "What Is your name?"
   "No names." Deal breaker.  "Huh!  Miss will do, if you have to call me
something, but you don't.  Have to call me, anything.  It's just the two of
us, I don't have a room mate, boyfriend, husband, or kids, I find it
simplifies my life."
   "Yes," he nods, "It would."
   "Would you like a break?" All cleaned up, "Is that your lunch?" Brown
bag, rolled up, and stuffed in his tool pouch.
   "Yes, but I am not hongrey.  You have more work to do?"
   "Yes," how about the bedroom, "This way." Upstairs, or more of a loft,
but that's the price to pay for the vaulted ceiling, which really opens it
up, and makes it fl larger, or sound larger with the echos of our voices. I
can entertain, once I move in, and clean up the place, he is a good worker.
   "You like, Whores?  Man whores, what is the word?"
   "Maricon?"
   "In english, and that is homosexual.  You mean Puto."
   "Help me with the dresser."
   "Where is?" He looks around.
   I decided, "In the corner, sideways, nh.  Yeah, back it up."
   "Like this." He sets it down.
   So, "Yeah," put my hip into the side, and scoot it over.  "Now, go
around the bed, and help me slide it over." Not really room for it, and the
side table up here.  And actually open the drawers, and walk around, get
dressed.
   "Hhn!  Yeah." Set it down.
   "You are strong."
   "For a woman?"
   "Well, for a.  Woman of money."
   "I didn't come from money, I worked hard, and I earn it." I nodded, "I
know what you think, about us rich bitches, but that's in general.  And
you'd be right, for most of us.  I'm just not most women."
   "Why you like.  Whores?"
   "Oh.  Giggalos," kinda changed the subject.
   "Yes." that's the word, en Englace.  "Why them?"
   "Well, like I said, I work hard.  To compete with men, it ain't easy
because they run things, and have all the money."
   "No.  not all themoney."
   "Huh!" Wasn't expecting he'd finish that sentance like that.
   "Well, finance is complicated, and boring to talk about, but in
economics the vast majority is enough.  As far as Wealth, and Power are
concerned, that's enough to be all of it, for practical purposes."
   "Like democracy."
   "Yeah, if you count a dollar as a vote, then the 90% in the hands of the
top 10% of wealth just outvote the 90% of people, with only a tenth the
ammassed wealth.  So, for marketing, for instance you have Car Commercials,
on your novellas?
   "Well, I don't watch the stories, I'm out looking for work, by my famly
does."
   "Right, but you've had days off, been sick or injured, and got pulled in
by the aunts and cousins."
   "Pretty much."
   "Yeah, well how many mexican Americans come here to buy a Lexus?"
   "Not any I know."
   "Then why do they have Lexus commercials, in Spanish every commercial
break on Univision?  I know I watched them."
   "Novellas?"
   "Yeah, I got bored, there was nothing on, except that.  I don't know the
name, but.  They're actually pretty good.  More opera, less soap, I would
say."
   "So you like Latin culture?"
   "I don't know latin culture."
   "Is this why you.  Pick up latinos for sex?"
   "Oh, that.  I don't make a habit of it, the first time, I ever thought
of it.  But, Uh?" He's not going to let it go, "Why, I did it?" Jes?  "Huh?
I don't know.  It's not like I planned to." Or thought about it for days,
"I'm not used to having, all this spare time.  I'm on vacation, and I don't
know what to do with myself, but I had to move, and I had some time off, so
I took them."
   "Oh, okay."
   "Does that answer your question?"
   "No, but your the boss.  I just wonder.  You have, coffee?" He drained
his thermos.
   "Yeah, I'll go start a pot."
   "Is okay, just show me where it is, and I will go make some."
   "Okay, it's not unpacked yet, but should be the box in the corner of the
kitchen." Just stuffed the bag in the caraffe, and taped it up."
   "You have been here, days?"
   "Yeah, oh the coffee?  I don't need it, on my days off." It's be nice,
not having to get up, put on pants.  "Yeah, there."
   He pulled it out, unwrapped the chord, and plugged it in, before working
on the tape.  Didn't put it on.
   "You don't have to serve me." I shook my head.
   "No, but this is, for me.  I am not a guest, and I will no make you make
me coffee."
   "No, I get it.  That's great.  Thanks." Seeing as I hate getting men
coffee, "I'm just.  I don't know, I just don't want you to feel like that."
   "Like what?  I come to help you move, unpack your." He looked down, "Mr.
Coffee.  Thanks for letting me have a pot, so I don't have to go to the
corner.  Huhuh!" His hands shook.
   "Are you all right?"
   "Fine."
   "No, you're white." I took his hands, "God, you're freesing!  Here." I
turned the water on hot, "Just put them under here, and calm down.  What's
wrong?"
   "You make me.  A whore." I got a chair, he sat down, but didn't cry. 
Held back, I knew he wanted to, but he toughed it out.
   "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."
   "Wha," not sure if that was a why, or what?  "That sex for money is a
whore?"
   "No, of course not that, but that it could hurt you.  Like this, I
didn't intend to hurt your feelings, I just didn't know you're so
sensitive, to that."
   "Well, for your informacion, in latin culture it is, not.  Huh!" He put
his head down.  "No," shook it, "Huh!  You right, I no.  I did not know. 
You could not have." She speaks so formaly when he's struggling, in
English. Says something, quite a lot in Spanish.
   "Is that a prayer?"
   "Jes, I am, no I waz a good Catholic.  Now I am a whore!"
   Now, he's crying, but with his head down, so I can't see it.
   "I'm sorry," I can't take this.  "Huh!  Have some coffe, see if that
makes you feel better."
   It's true, I know plenty of women who like to shame, and humiliate you,
but that was not my intent.  I never intended to hurt anyone, and I hate
myself for doing it when I do, it's just unavoidable.  Especially across
cultures, with a language barrier, and anything like sex becomes an issue.
   I thought, women do sex work, because we have to.  Some times, I never
did, so I never did.  I assumed that men do because they can.  You know
they get payed better for that too?  The one industry that by all rights
should be dominated by women, so of course the best payed and most famous
porn stars are dicks.  Bad enough that we have to go under the knife, get
baloons stuffed in our chests, shave everything, and keep in perfect shape,
Ron Jeremy.  That fat freak is the face, and spokes model for the entire
industry.
   So, I never actually run into this problem before.  Chalk it up to the
cultural difference, I've been to Mexico, hell he mentioned Tampico?  I've
been there.  Maybe a little Texas in there, I'm a Dallas girl, and hating
Mexicans is a family tradition since the Alamo.  Not me, don't have a
problem with it, obviously.  I mean, when we first met, and he bent down
over my window.  I checked my watch, and he checked out my watch, but it's
a nice watch.  It's fucking bling, I hate it honestly, but it's the only
one I got, because I have to wear something to work, because that's what
"Dress professional" means.  Not business casual, we don't have casual
fridays, dress for success, or fail.
   Only what they don't tell you is at 90% the pay of your male
counterparts, at least double the cost of the wardrobe, why do you think I
drive a Benz?  Do I like it, yeah it's a nice car, but I wouldn't have
bought it if it wasn't a work expense.
   "I'm sorry."
   "No, I'm sorry.  Huh!  I know I use men for sex, I should've warned you,
but I didn't think, I should have.  Warned you?"
   "Is okay.  You want to get back to work?"
   "Yeah, okay." Would've liked to take another stab at him, but all right.
He earned his money, and I'm not going to rape him, or blackmale him for
it. I'm not like that, I just get too horny to think about it.  A little
lucky I stopped to put a rubber on it.  Deisgusting things, but it's like
the watch, the car.  The things I put up with to get what I want.
   I'll not bore you with the play-by-play of my moving process.  We're in
the living room, so we continued in there.
   "I don't like Latin men.  In particular, white, black latin, asian,
whatever.  Huh!  Honestly, I don't like men.  All that much.  I just need
them, sexually.  So, I saw you.  Not you, dear, you and your friends. 
Hihihn!  Can you take this upstairs?" Let me think, "On the bed is fine, or
the dresser will do.  Um, you think it would be better at the top of the
stairs?"
   "The dressor?" He called down, but didn't walk back to the railing.
   "Yeah, for dressing.  I just thought there I wouldn't have to go around
the bed." By the wall, sideways it wider, but still like a dead-end hall,
and I still haven't.  "Grab the mirror and take it up there too."
   "Yes miss."
   "Thanks." Um, "So yeah, anyway, hihihn!  I saw you, right by the
convenience store, and I thought.  Well, isn't that convenient?"
   "Hahah, yes.  It pays to advertize?"
   "Hahah!  Yeah." He's funny.  Too, and as I get to know him.  "You know,
you'd be a good friend."
   "I am, I have many friends."
   "Yes, but." I was thinking I need a man, and "I don't.  Know, anyone
like you.  I mean, plenty of latin men, and some I've even been with, but
not like you.  You are a good man."
   "Oh, thank you.  Miss?"
   "Yes?"
   "Is nothing."
   "No, go ahead." He came out, not to the banister, but looked at me. 
Through it, but we saw eachother.
   "Forgive me for saying, but I do not think.  You are."
   "What?"
   "A very good person."
   "Oh." I hadn't even thought.  "I'm sorry."
   He just shook his head, and walked back to the stairs.
   "Is okay, you done'know." The way he said it.
   "No," but I suppose, with my privilege.  "But I can empathise."
   "What is.  This, how you mean."
   "Empathy?  Well, it's the ability to put yourself, mentally in somebody
elses place.  As much as possible, I know, I have no idea what it's like to
be an immigrant, but the parts we have in common.  Like being servant
class. For instance.  Take a break, I'm not paying by the hour here anyway,
but I think this is important.  For both of us to understand, but that sex
really cleared my head, so thanks for that.  Anyway, that out of the way, I
guess what I'm trying to say is that you and I are different, but I feel
that your plight being a Mexican male has as much in common with my plight
as an independant professional woman that we can Empathise.  I don't know
exactly how it is for you, nor would you fully understand my world, but it
feels the same.  I know how you feel, having to work harder, for less, and
fight for the right to be here, every day.  I imagine it doesn't feel much
different being called dirty spic than rich bitch."
   "You hate that as well."
   "Yes, exactly.  So, even though I have no idea what you go through, I
can still feel for you."
   "I like this, empathy."
   "Good, me too." It tells me I'm not a total psycho.
   "But the main reason I chose you instead of a moving company, or $500.00
an hour Giggalo is because you need it more.  The work, and the money."
   "Did you say, $five, hondered?" I nodded, "A hour."
   "Yes?"
   He laughed, "I went in the wrong business." He shook his head, and got
up.  With that, the break was over.  "Yes, I would like to be your friend."
   "Niheha?  Thought you said I was not a good person."
   "No, but I like you.  And your money."
   "Oh yeah!?"
   "Yes, and your culo."
   "What's that?"
   "You prefer the English word, your ass.  You have a good ass."
   "Hey now, nobody said you could talk to me like a boyfriend!"
   "Your friends, do not say you have a nice ass?"
   "Hihinihn!  No."
   "Well, you do."
   "Thanks!"
   "There is this.  Other thing.  Here, in American culture.  Friends with
benefits?"
   "It's not typically a payed position." I nodded.
   "I do no wando," again, how he said it, "Be a whore.  But I would like
to be your.  How you say giggalo?"
   "Mhm!" I actually clapped.  Excited.
   "Yes, I would like that."
   "Well, the price is negotiable, but." I want to go, splurge, spend some
money right now.
   "No, is okay.  You maybe." He stops, at the landing, and looked up,
"Want a freebie?"
   "Yeah."
   "This time, I will fuck you.  Like a man."
   "Okay," he forgot the rubbers, so I grabbed them.
   ;
   "Herve'," (MF Top/bot.  No BDSM.)
   She just bent over, on the bed.  The end, I had to go around for her to
un wrap one, put it on, and suck it wet, but she was wet enough.
   Behind her, I never really looked.  At them before, she said Rich Bitch
herself, not like she was calling me a Dirty Spic, but after we.  She
fucked me, the first time.  So I looked, and while it's not like, she isn't
hispanic, but it has it's own beauty, and I just had to look.
   "Uhn, huh!  Go slow."
   "Like this." I remeber her ryhtm.  Before, it was an hour, but not 2
yet.
   "Mmh, more." She nodded, "Slow, but, pull out more."
   So, I gave her all of it.  She only went halfway before, but on top. 
The view is the same, "Ohh, huh!" But going slow, I can pull back, all the
way, without popping up.  "Harder, nh, fuck into me, HUH!  Yeah, and pull
out slow.  HIHN!" A little squeek, "Hardrh!" She turned, and lay down her
head the other way, so I pulled back for another thrust.  "Huh!  Harder."
   "Okay," yes, this is.  I am an attractive man, I do well with the
ladies, I must say she picked me not just because of my speedy reaction,
and good English.  I have done this, like this, and if you don't know how
to pleasure your woman, ask her.  She probably knows.
   "Huh huh faster, HUH!  Yeah faster, faster yeah uh!  Fas'huh yeah
neyeahneahneyah morefasterahuhuhuhuhuh!"
   "HHuhH!" I just held it in.
   "Don't stop."
   "HM!  Give me.  Just a second."
   "You didn't."
   "No, but.  HHh," I pulled out, slowly.  Not all the way, "Close."
   "Neah, save it, just, hhHh!" she sivvered, inside too.  "Fuck me some
more.  Slow, not too fast."
   I won't.  Stop, until she is satified.  I made that mistake, but I will
satisfy her.  This time, for one I am curious what it will take.  But I am
here, for a job, and I will do it.  Completely, thoroughly, I will come
back when she needs me again, but when I leave her, she will be satisfied.
   "HHh, hHh, hHh!"
   "Oh, god.  Your dick, god I love your big fat cock in me, meah!"
   She's a talker, but the money's good.
   You think I like standing out there, from 4:00 in the morning, because
the work crews start at 5:30, and they don't want to delay picking up extra
labor?
   It's not just a job, it's a good job.  And an interview, I want to come
back, steady work, and she has the money.  Not a boyfriend, not a husband,
she needs sex.  Willing to pay good money for it, and I'm thinking $100.00
a bang.  Every other hour so far, and that will be the day, but that is a
good day of work, and a good week worth of money.  Today.  This morning, is
it even lunch time yet?
   I'm not out in the sun, I don't have lawn mower spary all over my arms,
or drywal dust to shoot over my nose, I work up a good sweat, the benefits
includes sex, twice in one day, with a beautiful, powerful rich blanca out
of her mind with sex.
   "NHM?" She pushes back, hard against me, so I stop.  Feel the clenching,
rippling, even through the plastic thing, and bend over to hold her.  Pull
out a little, but feel her back with my chest, up her arms, and under her
shoulders.  'hhhhhh!' She relaxes.
   Slip my fingers under, sideways.  Yes, I have done this.  My wife, she
love this, even in the culo.  Her nipples, brush through my fingers, and
between them, I just cup them.  As lightly as I can, with our weights both
pressing down on them, but pull them out.  To flatten, bulge out she sides,
and leave them.  Feel my fingers, then fingertips, up and down the round
tight curve of her most womanly flesh, and sit up.  To sink in.
   "NGH!" Press in, as deep as I can go, to splash my children up inside
her.  Or this, raincoat.  I don't think about that, sinful thing.
   Yes?  Well, I am a whore now.  I have to dress for the job.
   I can go to hell with her, I know her soul was already there.
   {Author's note: In case you're wondering, the sex is not graphic, much
less Ultrasex (MSI) because 1: it's just sex, and 2: it's not really about
that, but 3: the characters aren't aware of their own motivations.  And I
may be a little burned out on writing Ultrasex(Faggot!) Also, Privilege. 
If you haven't allready picked up on it.}
   Janet (FM NS Talk.  Sorry?)
   "Well," ah!  "Huh!  We did just about all I need you for right now, but.
Smq.  You want a ride home?"
   "For right now."
   "I have some decisions to make, and a lot of stuff to put away before we
need to move any furniture, but would you like to come back tomorrow?"
   "Yes, very much."
   "Go get my purse." I went down, and back to the bathroom.  Took off my
top, and dropped my bra on the stairs.  "Ohhhn!" God, that was just what I
needed.  Just how I needed it, and then.  After.  "Huh!  We up to two
fifty?" I nodded, "You earned it." That's what I call at least a 1 week
fuck.  I don't need it all the time, but, "How's fridays for you?" I sat
down, put my leg up, and stuck the wallet back in my purse on my knee. 
"You want more work?"
   "Yes, fridays are.  I have nothing, on friday nights.  I could go out,
usually to the bar, but.  I don't have to." He looked down, finished
counting the $20.00s, and floded them up.  "It is, a hondred for sex."
   "Yes," and that is a bargain!  Yes, the also work cheap, but I had
mentioned $500.00 an hour giggalos, and he didn't try to overcharge me. 
That's an expense I can afford, $100.00 a week, and not even every week.  3
times a month, I can skip a week when I have to, for my period.  "Huh! 
Pleasure doing business with you."
   He picked up his tools, "Yes, I would like that ride."
   "To the corner?"
   "No, if you would not mind taking me home?"
   "Of course not, I'd love to, why would you think I wouldn't?"
   "I do not know, but.  Like you say, 'no names', and."
   "Herve'." He looked up, "Is that right?" He nodded, "I'm Janet.  Nice to
meet you.  Hihimn!  Now that we got all that out of the way, you got
everything?" I picked up his thermos in the kitchen, and pushed down the
top before I tossed it to him.
   "Yes, this is it."
   "You feel all right?" Put my arm around him, "Nheauha, you're not going
into shock again, like last time."
   "No, I am fine.  That was just, a crisis of faith."
   "Chistian?" I unlocked it, dropped my keys in my purse, closed the
screen door.  Why these condos have screen-door out front, as if I had a
decent porch, "Bad neighbohood?" THNK!  Pushbutton start.
   "Not really."
   "I mean for me to be seen in.  In a Mercedes," already took off my
watch. Don't need it, didn't even do my hair.  Just grabbes some clothes,
went out like this.  Like a slob, like a walmart-slob, in my PJs, and that
might explain why he thought I'd mine taking him home?
   "You should be fine.  You might not want to go there, and stick around.
Too long, but not because of your wealth.  It is not a ghetto, or a slum,
there are just many men.  Latin men, and you do not like, to be hit on?"
   See what I mean?  He's smart, most white guys don't pick up on these
things.  "No, that's all right," but it's not like I want to be raped, and
I don't have anyone to go with.
   No, not him.  I don't want a friend, a boyfriend or a husband, I'm more
worried about him having unprofessional feelings, but this is a business
deal.  I need a man, he needs money, and the best part about it is I can
just kick him out instead of fighting over the bed all night.  "Huh!  I
have no problem telling them to go fuck themselves, I never did.  I just
have a libido.  I wouldn't think that would be that tough a thing for men
to understand.  And I don't want to spend any more time on it than I have
too, the hondred bucks is still a lot less than the time is worth to me."
   "I do not.  Understand.  Yes, the libido part, but no, not the.  You are
impatient, you say go slow, and then you just want to get it over.  You
just say you done want to spend too much time on it."
   "Not sex, men.  Huh!  I love sex, and you, god you're an incredibly good
lover, you know that?"
   "Yes?" Not sure if that's a yes yes, or.  He says yes a lot, it doesn't
always mean yes, but doesn't matter.
   "Um," Shake my head, "I want to spend time having sex.  As long as
you're able, not all that fucking around before and after."
   "For, play?"
   "No, that's sex, I mean wining, and dining, dating, and sleeping
together, I just want to fuck, and enjoy that, and why is this such a
problem for people?  Not just your people, anyone?  What the fuck is wrong
with sex?  It's not sinful, it feels good, it's natural, and if God didn't
like it then why did he give us this instead of hermaphrodites, or, storks,
and, cabbage patches, and shit?"
   "Hahaha!  Your blasphemy is funny, but it is not our place to question
God."
   "Don't preach," I shook my finger, "Just don't.  I hate that."
   "Religion?"
   "Yeah, my uncle's a fucking decon, and one of his daughters joined the
cloister, you believe that?"
   "Haha, yes."
   "Well good." cause, "It's true.  I mean, like anyway.  It's like
homosexuals.  If god hates homosexuality, then why's he make gays to hate?"
   "well, that would be the adversary."
   "Hahahah!  You mean Satan?  Okay, yeah.  I'm sorry, they're your
beliefs, and you're entitled to them, but even if you believe the story,
they comitted genocide and enslaved people In Mexico.  That's why it's
Mexico.  Are you Spanish Mexican, or do you have some.  I don't know,
Native, Mexican?"
   "Yes, I have family from the tribe."
   "Okay, then if they believe in this all powerful benevolent god that's
everywhere, then whats with all the killing, rape and torture in His name?
Don't have sex, that's sinful.  But if they don't pray in My name you can
kill them?  You ask me, that's a pretty fuck up god."
   "Well, if you don't want to insult my beliefs, then mebe you could try
Not to insult my beliefs?"
   "Oh, sorry.  You're right, yeah you're right, I'm sorry."
   "You talk a lot, after sex."
   "Yeah, it helps me think."
   {Psych Notes: Yeah, in case you don't pick up on the pattern, she's a
Power Assertive Malignant Narcissist.  Specifically a Privileged Exploiter,
would be a Entitlement Rapist, if she was a man.  Just isn't psychological
fiction, I've know so many of them, threw them in a blender, and tipped it
over a glass to see what dripped out first.  They fascinate me, especially
the subtle covert females, which is why I write about it so much.
   He is her victim.  Forced prostitution, but not like physical force. 
Brute force, that's easy to write.  This is a magicians force, "Pick a
card, any card," as long as you end up having sex for money at the end. 
She degraded him, pushed him down in the metaphorical much to stand taller
on his back.  In denial about it, which is what all that last part was
about.  "I don't want to sound racist, but the glass ceiling makes up for
being white, and it's okay if the guys do it to me.  Get away with it..."
   I've talked a lot about child molestor's excuses, but they're not the
only ones that make them.  There is nothing, absolutely nothing to stop her
from abusing children, she just chose ethnic minorities (Yes, plural) to
prop up her feeling of superiority.  Instead, and besides, you know child
abuse is wrong.  Too many people are completely oblivious to casual
anti-social abuse.  Sexual harassment, covert incest, systemic racism, rape
culture, economic and religious privilege.  Intellectual Privilege? 
Totally not a thing.  I'm smarter and better educated than you, so you can
just sit back and listen while I talk over you, kay?
   Which is why I write about them.  Nobody said you have to get off. 
Honestly, that's not my job, and I don't get payed anything for this,
anyhow.} 
  
Womanizer (GM)