"Thank you for not going through with it," Shannon said.
I had basically cornered her because she had been avoiding me.
"You and I are going to talk. Come," I had said and she had had no option but to follow me.
We were in a Starbucks, so she'd see that I wasn't about to ask her to blow me in front of a bunch of strangers-unless... whoa! No. No. That's where I had to draw the line.
"For not going through with what? I mean, you blew me-"
"Please! Not so loud," she urgently whispered.
A lady next to us was trying not to stare.
Heh.
I learned she had fought with her boyfriend because he thought she was seeing her high school crush and she had proven him wrong, but the words exchanged had left her with no desire to come clean, which had been her original plan. She told him everything and I would take a punch to the face if necessary.
She asked me to be the better part of our twisted friendship and stop it. I promised I'd try, but asked her to also help me by not being a temptation near me. Of course I didn't ask her to move away, but I did tell her that I'd avoid her and she should do the same, because if she as much as talked to me in a tempting manner, I'd fuck her until I planted, deep inside of her, every drop of cum I could produce in a day.
Mostly because I knew some part of her wanted me to fuck her bareback and was only waiting for the day when we did so.
*If* we fucked. Or so I meant to tell myself.
The lady next to us almost fell from her seat. Maybe we had said something a little too loud. I'm unabashed regarding sex... but her? Shannon was about to die on the spot.
My heroic attempt at being the better man.
First week? Easy. Second? So-so. Third? Complicated as fuck.
On the fourth I arranged a weekend getaway to a nearby town with the idea of hooking up with a random girl in whichever bar looked good enough to do so.
I even let our neighbors know I was going out of town so they'd watch out for any strange activity at my place.
Then, the fateful call from my wingman. Stomach flu.
Dammit!
I checked Craigslist and the expectations for one night stands, from the female point of view were: muscled guys with foot-long dicks who also had to look too young to be legal, and they'd better be willing to fuck girls who refused to give out information or pics. Those were among the most rational among the inane requests I mostly found. I winced, thinking about how picky could they get for girls, but I didn't stop to find out. I needed sex.
