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Chapter 7: The Confession
Ugh, I've been dreading this. All day long my hands have been clammy, my tongue has been dry, and my stomach feels like it ate several frozen burritos that may or may not have expired sitting in the tepid fridge of an off-highway convenience store that has old rusty gas pumps out front that you can't swipe a credit card on. And right now, I'd prefer eating those crappy burritos compared to what I'm about to do.
Last night I realized I'm falling for Tasha. Fine, I'll go ahead and say it, I'm falling in love with her. As much as I don't want to admit it, I've grown to care about her. And that is probably the worst thing that could have happened to me.
All day at work I've been thinking about what I'm going to say to her tonight. How do I tell her that I'm not actually a bra salesman, that when we met I tricked her into letting me fondle her huge 48-inch breasts and fuck her in the dressing room? How do I say that all the exercises I've been giving her to help her fit into her lingerie, y'know the ones where she sucks my dick and I fuck her in the ass, all of those exercises are totally 100% bullshit?
Dave kept coming to my cubicle today and asking yet again if he can come over again so the two of us can fuck her again like we did before, but I've just been staring blankly into space. I don't know how to tell her any of this. Things were great before. She was a dim-witted woman with large tits that I could fuck whenever and however I wanted. It was all perfect and fucking spectacular.
And now? Now I'm falling for her. I let myself get goddamned emotionally attached, and now I'm fucked. I've got all these lovey-dovey feelings churning in my chest that are making me feel guilty and are compelling me to come clean to her and tell her the truth. All of it. Every last bit. And it is going to totally suck and I am going to lose the best piece of ass I've ever had.
But then that's the problem. She's no longer a piece of ass, is she? No, now she's someone I care about and that makes me so fucking mad at myself. Why couldn't I just keep fucking this beautiful woman with the perfect body and unbelievable tits and just keep my mouth shut, my cock in her cunt, and my stupid fucking heart out of it? Most guys with a normal operating brain would leave well enough alone and keep fucking the big-breasted woman as long as possible. But noooooo, not me, not stupid asshole me, no I have to get emotional and loving and caring. I am such an idiot.
So I'm knocking on her apartment door and I still have no fucking idea what I'm going to say to her. But the sad fact is I can't keep living like this. I feel like there's the weight around my chest that makes it fucking impossible to breathe, and it's never going to get better until I'm honest with her about who I am and what's been going on.
She's hiding behind the door as she opens it with a big grin on her face like she's happy to see me. Because she is so fucking overjoyed to let this liar into her home and have an asshole like me fuck her and touch her, when I don't deserve any of this. "Hi Albert, come on in!" Hearing my fake name feels like having my forehead stabbed with a butter knife. Don't ask me why it's a butter knife, I have no fucking idea, ok? "Hey, what's wrong?" she asks as she closes the door behind me.
I turn towards her and begin, "Hey, I..." I see now she's wearing some black fishnet stockings and nothing else. Holy fuck, this is going to be even harder than I thought. Go ahead dickhead, tell her everything. "Listen, we need to talk." There it is. That's the phrase that everyone knows is a precursor to some horrible, despicable truth that no one wants to hear. A take a deep breath, trying to formulate the first sentence that I know is going to end our relationship forever. Fuck.
But before I get a chance to continue, Tasha blurts out, "Oh! Wait a minute! Before you tell me, I want to tell you what happened to me earlier today!" She still has this sneaky little smile on her face. Did she not hear what I said? Or does she not know what a phrase like that means?
"You'll be so proud of me, I think all the exercises we've been doing are really working! Remember that car repair shop that said that they require a blowjob whenever they give an estimate?" You mean the perverted assholes who have been taking advantage of your naivetΓ© and lying to you just like I have been? I can think of a lot of words I'd use to describe them, but I won't because they're rubber and I'm fucking superglue with a liquid bonding shellac surrounded by a pasty adhesive. Or something like that.
"Well, they called me a few days ago and said that according to their schedule, my car needed to be serviced again. So I brought the car in today, and when they lifted the hood, they immediately noticed that my car needed some lubrication." Oh crap, is this a long story? I wanted to get this out before I lose my nerve. Shit, she's not stopping.
"But then they found out that they were all out of lubricant at the shop and that I would have to wait three weeks until the new lubricant came in. And I told them I couldn't wait three weeks for my car!" Oh no, I do not like where this is going.
"So they told me that for some cars, semen can work as a good lubricant, but they needed my help to get their semen out. So I was happy to help them get my car working again so I didn't have to wait three weeks." Ok, I'm definitely starting to understand why your old boyfriend got frustrated with you.
"They gave me a tiny collection jar and I got on my knees and started giving two of the workers hand jobs, but they told me that was going to take too long and that I needed to give them blowjobs. Well, I wasn't thrilled, but of course I did it so I could get my car fixed. So I'm going back and forth between the two of them sucking as hard as I could." This story would have really turned me on a few days ago, but now that I actually care about her, this is really pissing me off.
"And just when one of them is about to cum, he grabs my head and holds in place so I can't move and all his... y'know, spunk shoots into my mouth. When he's done, I tried to dribble as much as I could into the jar, but it was hard to see and most of it ended up on my chest." I feel like I should say something, but of course I can't. I didn't say anything about these pricks the first time she told me about this repair shop, so what am I going to say now?
"So then I start sucking on the other guy, and I can tell he's ready to... y'know, and he does, but I kept missing the jar and I didn't catch hardly any. Most of it ended up all over my face and chest." Oh my god, my cock is throbbing and ready to burst out of my crotch.
"I apologized for not being very good at catching. I grabbed a rag to wipe off their sperm and put it in the jar but then it turns out that none of their rags work on semen. So I had to lift my boobs up and lick as much of it off of me as I could." That's right, nonchalantly move your pants around so your stiff dick has some room to maneuver.