After about ten minutes I am able to
gather myself off the floor using the wall to prop myself up. When
Softy kneed me in the dick I was rock hard. I forgot to mention it,
but I don't wear underwear and I like loose pants. So I was “pointed”
at 45 degrees and she got me head first, if you will. I manage to
make it all the way to my room and Sad Sack is there on his bed
reading a book. He looks at me, shakes his head, and keeps reading.
“I'm fine” I tell him. “No need
to be concerned.”
“I wasn't” he says and licks his
thumb and turns the page. I've never understood why people did that.
Particularly him because he's Black and I know for a fact that he
applies generous amounts of lotion to his body. “What?” he asks
when he feels me looking at him. Another Black thing.
“Two things” I say. “Black people
are weird and I got beat up twice in the last half hour.”
“Just twice?” he says and laughs.
“You must be getting better at keeping your mouth shut.”
“I kissed Mr. W. Scott's daughter”
I said while rolling to my side. For some reason that made my dick
feel better. Sad Sack dropped his book and stared at me. “Well, she
kissed me if you wanna be all technical about it.”
“That man is gonna kill your dumb
ass” he said. “You are in here to stop drinking and fucking your
father's new woman and in reality you're here to get some ass.”
“No, but Happy Hands is” I tell
him. Sad Sack looks confused and I remember that I haven't told
anyone these nicknames. “You know, the guy that keeps jerking it?”
“Oh, him.”
“Yeah” I say. “Him. So after Mr.
W. Scott kicked my ass I went to the bathroom and Happy Hands walked
in and told me his life story. Turns out he is trying to nail the
chick with the face of Florida and the body of California.” Sad
Sack laughs. “His wife stopped fucking him so he started jacking
off out of the house and was busted by his neighbors.”
“Why did she stop fucking him?”Sad
Sack asks. I shrug.
“I don't know” I reply. “Just
'cause they're married doesn't mean she has to fuck him.”
“Bullshit” Sad Sack says. “That's
one of her jobs as his wife.”
“Oh, come on!” I shout. “You
can't be serious. Guys like you don't exist anymore.”
“If my wife stopped giving it up I'd
either divorce her Black ass or take it” he says.
“Take it?”
“Yeah, take it” he repeats.
“That sounds kinda...rapey” I tell
him. “That doesn't sound rapey to you?”
“No” he says and picks his book
back up, not reading it. He slams his book on the bed and looks at
me. “How can you rape someone you married to?”
“If you have sex with someone who
doesn't want it that's rape” I say.
“To each his own” he says.
“That doesn't apply to this” I say.
“That's like saying 'all is fair in love and war' to defend your
bullshit actions.”
“So you a therapist now?” he asks.
“Can't spell 'therapist' without
'the' and 'rapist'” I say.
“I don't rape my wife” he says.
“You kinda do” I say.
He's on me fast. He starts punching me
in the face. Well, he tries to. I keep dodging his punches so he hits
the bed. He gets mad and starts choking me. I try to scratch him but
I keep my nails very short. I used to have a bad habit of chewing
them so I started cutting them down so all I am doing to Sad Sack is
giving him an aggressive facial massage.
“Is this...what you do...with...your wife?” I gasp. Sad Sack stops and looks at me. He takes his hands
from around my throat and tears start streaming down his cheeks. I
catch my breath and reach up and poke him on the tip of the nose.
“Boop.”
“Fuck” he says and climbs from on
top of me. “I'm not right.”
“I know” I say. He punches me in
the dick.
“But I'm still not as fucked up as you.”
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