crook takes pawn, part 59

    "Close the curtain," she says, mindful of the large picture window for seemingly the fist time, "Did you find one, or what?"
    Greg yanked on the curtain rope and a rackety sound followed the closing of the window's glimpse. He felt as jerky as the curtains movement.
"Well?" she asked in anticipation. The bra was off, and thrown onto the kitchen room table. She was naked as a jaybird, legs crisscrossed eagle style, divulging the happiest place in the universe: the female genitalia.
"I left the condoms in the ToyotaI'm so sorry" Greg says in a defeated, shriveled tone.
    "Goddammit," Rebecca swears.
She dons one of the comforters draped across the back of the couch.
"Do you want this to happen, or what?" Rebecca says crossly. She is overstressed and undersexed, just like Greg. Her knee bounces up and down, shaking her small hunched frame from within that blanket.
"Yes, my God, yes. I'll go to the store right now." Greg says, springing up from the couch.
"Forget it, dude," Rebecca says with an overwrought sigh, "The gas station is closed now, you'd have to drive across town, then all the way back. I'm ready right now. What the fuck?!?!"
    "Baby, I'm sorry, it was a busy day, lotsa stuff going on," Greg pleads, "What with Robert and all"
"We could've been fucking all this time. Why are you so held-up now???" Rebecca says with a deplorable expression.
"i've asked you to stay over, like three times, and you've always said no. What did you think I wanted to do? I have needs, Greg. I thought guys were all about this."
    Greg feels like he's been kicked in the nuts. Considering the swollen state of his testicles and genitals at that moment, the mix of worry is very unpleasant.
"Maybe I can do other things for you," he says, inching his hand toward her damp slit. She bats his hand away, like some sex goalie preventing a score.
"I don't want that. I have fingers of my own," She yelps, "and I have a toy. I need a man, Greg. I need a dick."
    Greg is shaken up. This woman is leveling him. David wasn't kidding when he said these Drake women could spew forth volleys of rage. He strikes out in anger.
"Well, why didn't you buy some?" Greg spits back, "You don't have to work, or do much of anything, as a matter of fact. Oh, I'm sorry, were your classes too hard today?!?! How's the writing going? Is there still 26 letters in the alphabet???"
    It may have been just a trick of the light, but Greg swore Rebecca's blue eyes cloud over with a aura-like grayness as she vents her wrath.
    "That's an asshole thing to say. Fuck you!! Who are you to say that about me? I'm a mother, that's a 24 hour a day job, mother fucker. Don't tell me how--"
    Greg waves his hands wildly in a cutting motion over the top of each other. He has fucked up big time. What the hell was he thinking?
    "Wait, okay. I'm sorry Rebecca. Hey, calm down, I'm sorry. I apologize. I was out of line. Hey????"
    She has continued talking without interruption, and Greg missed the last part of what she was saying, but it is brutal. She has risen to her feet, and stabs her finger into the air in front of Greg's nose. She is so upset that she doesn't even notice that the sheet has fallen off one of her shoulders, exposing her left breast.
    "I'm sorry, I take back what I said," Greg says diplomatically, "I'm just upset, like you. I wanted this so bad."
    "I need to go upstairs," Rebecca says unexpectedly, "I want to be alone for awhile."
    Greg says nothing as she departs. He stares at her bare boob, mixed with joy at seeing it, and also a pang of regret as she covers herself back up and storms out. Greg was shooting himself in the foot. Granted, the rubbers oversight could be forgiven. But for him to spout off at her like that was uncalled for.
    Greg threw his head back and rubbed his eyes so fiercely it was almost a gouging motion. He let out a weird combination of a yawn and a sigh. He almost sounded cold, like he got doused with a cold bucket of water.
    He picks himself up and gathers the nerve to follow her upstairs. She is in the master bedroom. Greg feels nauseous as he approaches her stronghold. His knock is soft, barely discernible, even in the still of the night.
"What?!?!" she snarls from within
"Can I come in?"
"Just go home, Greg,"
"Please. I'm sorry, Rebecca. You've gotta believe me."
    Greg detected the sound of opening drawers, and rummaging through things. She was probably getting dressed now. A thumping sound, then rattling as glass and plastic objects are scattered. There is  long wait. Hopefully his apology is sinking in. Rebecca thrusts the door open, and seems appeased. A tired grin is there on her lovely face.
"Apology accepted,"  Rebecca says, and holds up a condom. Greg can't believe his good fortune. He enters the room. She walks backwards, keeping the same distance between them. The blanket is wrapped about her neck, trailing down to cover her tits, but the gap leaves her bush revealed. He grabs her bare ass with both hands, halting her escape. Pulling her close, they kiss passionately. His palms clench that limber ass, kneading her flesh. Her leg shoots out behind him and kicks the door closed. It slams heavily in the silence. With that same leg, she curls around him, pulling him in between her legs, while maintaing balance on her other foot. Through the fly of his pants, he feels her vaginal lips split apart, then wedge against him. Her inner muscles flex, and contract, flex and contract. More wetness drips forth with each movement, soaking into his khakis.
    He grabs the rear of her leg, and picks her up. Her left leg joins the other, contorting around him and his considerable belly. He heads over to the bed, feeling the warmth of her vag against his gut. She cries out as the fall to the bed jolts her, but laughs uproariously.
"I found it in my armoire," Rebecca explains, as she tears the wrapper with her teeth. Greg has already dropped his pants again. His 3/4 erection hangs like a warped diving board. He jiggles it back and forth, as if shaking after urination. His peter promptly complies, filling the spongey tissue and becoming bloodshot. Rebecca perches the condom onto the tip, a small king being crowned. With expertise, she squishes the reservoir tip as she slides the ring down his shaft, to prevent air pockets from forming.
     An inflated reservoir tip may be the very reason his son Raymond was even born. Greg wasn't exactly in the habit of checking for ruptured condoms when him and the old ex-wife were frolicking.
    Her task complete, Rebecca rolls onto her back, legs bowed outwardly until her kneecaps nearly touched her elbows. Her pussy was a yawning pink chasm waiting to be delved into. He never disrobed faster. Completely naked, Greg's knees creaked the springs as he climbed aboard her kingsize mattress. Clasping her hands behind her knees, she lifts herself into the air, angling her womanhood up towards him. Here we go, he thought frenziedly. Looking downward at her, Greg marveled again at the infinite beauty of the female form. Her stomach was doubled upon itself, contracting the muscles of her fine abs. Her breasts seemed even larger when lying down. No longer having to fight gravity, her tits were settled back into a sexy plumpness.
    He slipped inside with little effort. Her legs straightened slowly as a long gasp issues from her. Eventually, they are completely straight and flexed, as if she were stretching. the crooks of Greg's arms balances her outstretched limbs. Greg waits until she settles down a bit. Bending her legs, she grips his sides with her thighs and pulls him back downward with her hands. The first push is mind-bending. Greg's knees feel like they will knock together as he stops again. This could take some getting used to. She was airtight. Greg found it hard to believe a child had passed through her loins. She gripped him spastically, and each time she did so, he felt it was nearly over. Greg was not familiar with Kegel exercises, but if he had known the term, he would've said Rebecca could qualify for the olympics with the strength of her twat.
    They were both settling in. It had been a long period of abstinence, and it was not by choice for either of the two. Once properly accustomed to her warmth and inner-pressure, Greg began to thrust. Supporting himself as high as possible, Greg pushed with his arms to avoid his belly from clapping into her. He could feel the bulge of his stomach swaying back and forth with his motions. After a short two minutes, he felt his strength failing him. That arm-strength was hard to maintain. His stomach dipped further until it rested against her much-smaller abdomen. He worried slightly about her disgust, but the beast with two backs was already underway.
    She found his weight comforting. This huge man was overpowering her, ravishing her, taking away all choice. She was blotted out by his huge frame, but subconsciously she wanted it and ached for more. She was secure here, and all inhibitions were cast aside as Greg pounded her with his enflamed rod.
    It was going swimmingly until
"Fuck me daddy," Rebecca said randomly. Greg's frantic actions slowed, then stopped.
"C'mon, daddyFuck your little bitch." Rebecca groaned, writhing beneath him. Of all the things she could've said, it had to be that: DaddyUh-oh
"What's wrong???" Rebecca asks, sensing his stall. Greg was poised over her, his penis buried into her cave, and it was starting. Or more aptly, it was ending.
"Nothing," he says in a slurred way
"Did you cum?" she's asks worriedly.
    If only it was that. Greg was faltering. Little Greggie was shrinking, retreating like a frightened turtle. He withdrew, although it aggrieved him to do so.
"What is it?" Rebecca asks, sitting up on her elbows.
"Just a second," Greg mumbles. The condom retained it's size, but Greg's own length disappeared. Desperately, he stroked himself, trying to revive it.
Being unable to get it up mid-coitus is a nightmare to the male species. It undermined the fundamentals of being a guy. Despite his best efforts, the condom continued to sag, waving like a wind sock off his shrunk junk. Rebecca placed her hands on his shoulders and whispered in his ear.
"Do you want to put it in my mouth maybe?" she asks in a hushed voice.
This, like the daddy comment, was meant to thrill him, but it also had the unintended opposite reaction.
"Goddamit," Greg says in defeat. After several minutes of trying, it was no good. rebecca's hands fell away. He heard her tsk loudly, and Greg dropped his head.
"It happens to a lot of guys, don't worry about it," Rebecca said blankly. Neither of them believed this cliche right then. Greg could detect the incensarity in her voice. Perhaps if there weren't already a scuffle between them, she might've been more convincing.
    They both wanted it, but it wasn't gonna happen now. The daddy remark had flashed him back once again to Raymond. It also tied into the spoken words Julie had said just a few hours ago. Da-da? Greg was no daddy, or father. Guilt and regret were a surefire method of birth control. He thought back to Pinnochio's lying morality. Unlike Pinnochio, Greg couldn't get his wood to extend.
    He irately yanked the condom from his failing organ. The condom was warm and wet, dripping with her essence. Her body parts seemed to be functioning just fine. It was he that was having the issues. It was his bullshit. He stood up and hurled the contraceptive into the wastebin.
    As he gathered his clothes in shame, he muttered some pointless excuses.
"I've got a lot on my mind right now. I'm hiring a team to replace some windows in my store. There's a lot happening with my business partner, too."
    None of it made sense, and none of it sounded the least bit creditable. Rebecca just sat on the bed, knees pulled up to her chest, the blanket covering all of her nudity. He threw on his clothes, not bothering to give further explanation. He paused at the door, then offered a weak goodbye.
"I'm gonna head out. I'll call you tomorrow."
She starts to respond, but he is already out the door, down the steps and to his car in a flash. His fat rolls jiggle back and forth as he rushes through her front yard.
She must think he's insane. Unfortunately, Greg has little defense for his case. 

Uploaded 04/22/2012
  • 0 Favorites
  • Flag
  • Stumble
  • Pin It