Thank you to my two favorite editors, LadyCibelle and Techsan, for making my story a much better read.
*
Chapter 1
There are many men out there; they are all sizes and shapes, tall, short, heavy, trim. Some have a full head of hair while others are nearly bald. Women have a tendency to look at the young, good-looking ones with a body with six-pack abs and a tight butt. Who can blame them? Most guys look at the good-looking sexy women in short skirts and big boobs. It's just part of life. Unfortunately, I don't fall in any of the sexier categories.
I'm a male, on the short side, pudgy in the stomach region and almost completely bald, having hair just on the sides of my head. I'm thirty-five years old, but look forty-five and single. Geez, what a surprise!
I'm not dumb or overly shy; just not the best looking guy on the planet. I graduated in the top five percent of my class in college. I hold a masters degree in Accounting and a bachelors degree in Business Management. I work for the IRS (Internal Revenue Service), so I don't have a lot of close friends. Everyone thinks I'm after them; which is not true.
I live at home and take care of my mother. My father passed away a few years ago. I know it makes me sound like a mommy's boy but it's not like that. We do have a wonderful mother-son relationship and I do what I want to do. Mom has her own circle of friends, mostly gossiping older women. They are always trying to fix me up with their daughters, nieces or other women they know. Most of my dates only last for one or two dates.
I guess the mothers and others realize that the beauty is only skin-deep. Financial responsibility is more important. Of course, you have to get by the looks first. I do understand that.
The compatibility with the sexier women and me just isn't there. Many of the women are just trying to find a husband, or at least someone to take care of them, while others want to get laid. I know it's hard to believe but it is true. I may be short and pudgy but my member is not considered short. I guess word got around when I was in high school. The short guy with the long dong. It took a long time for me to overcome the embarrassment.
I dated rather sparingly ever since high school. Sometimes it just wasn't worth the hassle. I thought I was in love a few times but it always ended badly. My problem is I used to go after the good-looking girls. I got turned down many times but also had a few dates. It was kind of like a joke I heard long ago.
"A man stood on the corner and asked the good looking women that walked by if they would like to sleep with him? It was just the law of averages. He said he got slapped a hell of a lot of times but he also got pussy once in a while too."
My dating was kind of like that. Maybe one in ten women I asked out said yes. Maybe one in three of those went out for at least a second date. Those that I became intimate with stayed around for a while.
Sherry was my first love. We were in college when we dated. Our dating ended abruptly after about five months. We met when I became a tutor and helped a lot of the students out. Sherry and I became close. My friends couldn't understand how a short guy like me was able to date a gal like Sherry. She really was a looker. Our sex life was great. Oral, missionary, from the rear, it didn't make any difference. The only thing we never did was anal. We tried it once and it hurt her too much. To be honest, it hurt me too; so we decided against it. Other than that, our sex life was great.
Looking back on our relationship, I guess sex was all we really had together. We went to a few sporting events and a few movies. The sex was great, but I guess it takes more then fucking to sustain a real relationship. I told her I loved her every time we had sex. It would just come out. I feel that at that very moment when a man comes, he truly is in love, but that's only for a few minutes in most cases.
I remember her telling me how much she loved the way I fucked her, but I honestly can't remember her telling me she loved me for me. I guess I just heard what I wanted to hear.
One weekend I told her I was going home to see my family. When I called home, my parents said they wouldn't be home on Saturday, but I was welcome to come home anyway. I didn't see the point of being home alone so I went over to see Sherry. She lived with three other girls. They each had their own bedroom but shared the living room, kitchen and bathroom.
When I got to the house Sherry's roommates had already gone out. They were all pretty, good-looking gals and heavy daters. I could see Sherry's room from the street and her light was on. I figured she was studying or something. I looked under the flowerpot for the extra key. It was for any of the girls that might have misplaced theirs.
I unlocked the front door and replaced the key. I walked to Sherry's room and could hear moaning noises. I quickly opened the door and there laid my Sherry, naked on the bed, lying on her back with her legs nearly straight up. A big guy was pounding the hell out of her pussy.
She kept yelling, "Lord, I'm coming! I'm coming!" She probably would have gone if this big galoot weren't holding her down.
Sometimes I have to crack an old joke to get by my pain; it softens the blow. Anyway, Sherry looked over at me and I could see a quick tear in her eye. The guy told me to get the hell out and I closed the door and left. I wish I could say I beat the shit out of him but no use lying. He was way bigger than me, and I could tell Sherry was a willing participant
I went home and sulked. The next day Sherry called me and said she was sorry. She thought I was out of town. I told her that I couldn't be with a woman who would treat me like that and we never dated again. For spite, I did date two of her roommates a couple of times. It was just for the sex. I guess she had told them I was hung. It still hurt when I saw her dating other men. I really thought we had something going.
I started losing my hair during my college years. Once out of college. I started getting pudgier. I guess I liked eating more than exercising. I had another serious relationship with a good-looking woman named Brenda. She was recently divorced and I guess I caught her on the rebound. The relationship lasted over six months before her ex came back into the picture. She had a son who was five years old. I really liked the kid; I often pictured myself as a dad.
Brenda told me she really cared for me but that she was thinking of going back with her husband for the sake of their son. No matter what I said, I couldn't convince her otherwise. We parted as friends but I couldn't see her again. Her husband made sure she cut all ties with me. I felt I lost a family.
As I mentioned earlier, I dated women I had known or who I was set-up with by friends and neighbors. When women looked at me, they didn't see past the exterior. I was neat and clean but I was far from the tall, dark, and handsome man that most women wanted. Short, bald and pudgy wasn't on most women's want list.
Life went on and I did have a good life. I figured I would probably die a bachelor. That is until Mary came into my life. I'm not quite sure how to put it. I've heard of love at first sight but I never thought I'd experience it. To this day, it's still hard for me to believe.
It was June and Mary came in for a tax audit. I could tell she was scared to death. She was almost in tears when she came into my office. I have to say that I really felt sorry for her. I get a lot of people who are scared. I've even been offered sex if I would look the other way. I never did it with a client; in fact, I never dated a client I wasn't about to lose my job over a piece of tail.
Mary was different. I'll try to explain but it will be hard. Mary was a pretty woman but quite a bit overweight; probably weighed more than me. She had shoulder length dark hair, pudgy face but beautiful eyes. She was short maybe 5' 1' or so, very large breasted and somewhat self-conscious. When she came into my office she was almost in tears. She was very emotional. When I first saw her, I felt my heart jump. Looking at her eyes, it was as though I could see her heart.
"Please sit down, Mrs. Barrett," I asked. "I'm Jerome Speck; I've asked you here to audit your income tax from last year."
She started to cry. "I didn't do anything wrong. Why am I here? I filed my return and was told I was being audited." I could see her head shake; she was really scared.
I got up, went around my desk, and put her little pudgy hand between mine. "Mrs. Barrett, you aren't being accused of wrongdoing. The tax return you filed for last year was different from the returns you filed the last five years. It brought up a yellow flag and we called you in to talk with you about it."
