No matter how weak and passive one may look, some people aren't to be messed with. This story tells of one such mistake. I wasn't there, but I have it on good authority, that it did happen. As such, it is mostly true, but I did have to get a little creative to fill in a couple of blanks in the story.
Nearly 50 years ago, I met a kid that would become a good friend of mine. We are both from a small farm community in the Midwest United States. Like many friendships in this region, we met in Sunday school in a local church. We were both too young to judge each other, and soon became fast friends. As we became older, the differences became more apparent. Although there wasn't a word for it at that time, my friend Joe, was autistic.
Young kids tend to be very cruel when it comes to other kids they don't understand, and to most in our school, Joe was different. He was extremely socially awkward. In fact, awkward, in itself, is the best way to describe him. He couldn't walk and talk at the same time without tripping over his own feet. Also, like many autistic kids, he learned differently. He did poorly in nearly every class except math classes. For him, math was like a song that spoke to him every time he listened to it. Compared to the other kids, he was weird and no one wanted to associate with him.
As for me, I was always much different than Joe. I grew up on a farm. Lots of heavy work translated into a very large, muscular build. Joe was winded just watching someone else do exercise. Although I would never have called myself popular, I did have a few girlfriends over the years. Joe on the other hand, couldn't even talk to a girl without tripping up. Where I played sports and enjoyed outdoor activities. Joe would lock himself in his basement and draw up crazy, abstract ideas in a pile of old notebooks. I had no idea what I was looking at, at the time, but I now know they were mathematical formulas, wiring diagrams, and schematics.
Despite all of our differences, I always treated him as a friend. We frequently would go places together and hung out occasionally. He was always easy to find. All it took was to look in his basement and he was always there. I can recall one single time this was not true. One day, I came by his house to pick him up and his father told me he was at his girlfriend's house. This was huge news to me and I quickly got her address and rushed over. Not knowing what to expect, and yes my imagination was going towards some really nasty places, I was not expecting who came to the door. A very pretty girl that was in the grade below ours, answered the door. The only reason I mention her at all is for two reasons. The first is, as I already stated, she was very pretty. The second was the look in her eyes. It wasn't a look of horror. It wasn't fear that she had been found out. It wasn't even disgust from spending time with the weirdest kid in school. No, the look in her eyes was that of total bliss. You know that look a girl gets when she has been freshly fucked and has been having nonstop orgasms. That look. I haven't even mentioned how flush and out of breath she was. To put things mildly, I was the one in shock. As Joe came out of the house, I asked him about the details and all he said was he came over to help her with her math homework. This left me puzzled and I always wondered his secret. We had been friends our whole lives. We had been in PE class together and we have seen each other in the locker room. He wasn't overly endowed at all. At best I would call him average. Reality is, he probably fell short. He also wasn't anything to look at. He was short and skinny with dark hair that often wasn't combed. His glasses were thick enough to start a forest fire with a focused beam from the sun and as I said, he had zero muscle tone. Most of the girls in our class could lift more weight than him.
After we graduated, neither of us could afford college, so we both enlisted in the military. I excelled and ended up in a special forces unit conducting black ops missions all over the world. He was trained to work on many of the high tech electrical equipment that was employed. We were stationed at different bases, but we occasionally crossed paths and when we did, we would go out for a drink. He never changed. He was still as awkward as always and never put on any muscle tone. Our conversations consisted of him telling me of all of his crazy ideas that I never thought would ever happen.
Fast forward a couple decades. I had gotten through my second divorce and was very frustrated with where my life had taken me. I sat down at my computer and opened up the tab to one of my social media accounts. Of course we all know the best way to eliminate stress and anxiety is to read everyone's posts about how perfect their life is, while also knowing it is all a lie. To my surprise, there was a message from Joe saying he was engaged to a girl in Russia. Okay, wait a minute. Don't we all hate when someone skips ahead in the story and we are now all left wondering what happened in the last twenty years? Okay, let me back up a little. When Joe left the military, he moved back to the Midwest, and started his own business. As it turned out, all those years worth of drawings were robotic designs. Over those missing twenty years of my story, he built one of the largest distribution and warehousing companies, in the country. Now, you might think great, I hate my job and he owns a massive company right? Wrong, in fact, he only had a couple of employees. His entire company was automated. There was robotic forklifts that could pull orders out of racks or place them back. There was robots that could feel the weight distribution in a semi trailer, and properly load it for best efficiency. All inventory was tracked by computers and avoided the issues with human error. The employees he had consisted of a couple of clerks to talk to the truck drivers, and a couple of engineers to keep the robots functional.
Okay, so we get the point. Me being the semi popular kid, struggled through my adult life and drastically failed at my love life. Him, being the weird kid everyone picked on, had a massive company, all the money he could ask for, and now a fiance. So what about this girl? It turns out, he had never really talked to her, but she sent him pictures and they chatted via messaging apps. When he sent me a picture I about busted out laughing. The girl was breathtakingly gorgeous. She was wearing a tiny little bikini and her nice round ass cheeks were hanging out from the thong. She was turned so it was obvious she didn't have on a top. Her long blonde hair cascaded down covering her nipples. She displayed an amazing view of her side boob while her blue eyes and soft features gave a look of lust that could cause any straight man to fall in love immediately. He proceeded to tell me she was a professional model who was down on her luck. He has been sending her money every month to help her out, and he finally got up the nerve to ask her to marry him.
I smile because this is a story we have all heard before. It screamed scam artist and he was just the type of person to be naive enough to fall for it. I didn't want to sound negative so I told him about my first wife, who also happened to be Russian. I'm not going to get into that story here, but let me tell you, it was awful and ended in a nasty divorce. And, she, was someone I met in person, not over the internet. Although careful, I still must have said something offensive because he went offline and stopped typing and I didn't hear from him for another year. To my surprise, a wedding invitation arrived in the mail. Being a good friend, I went to the wedding. The truth is, I was curious to see what was wrong with this woman. To my surprise, she was beautiful and elegant. What I also noticed was that she hardly even looked at her new husband. She was constantly talking and dancing with every guy in the reception. I took my opportunity, asked her to dance in Russian, took her hand and began dancing. Now I know what everyone is thinking. This is an adult story, so I tried to bang his new wife, right? Of course not, I'm an honorable man. What I did do was talk to her about her intentions. I speak enough Russian that I struck up a conversation and attempted to ensure she wasn't a gold digger. This didn't end well and like many young woman, the drama was more important to her than reality. She accused me of flirting with her and demanded that Joe kick my ass. Joe and I both knew there was no chance in hell of that happening. We stepped outside and I told him my thoughts about her. I also gave him a couple of tips to make it sound like he got in a good shot, on me, and saved her reputation. I left and wished him good luck on his honeymoon and apologized for creating a scene at his wedding. Not expecting to hear back from him until after his marriage failed, I went home. To my surprise, two weeks later, I came home from work and he was sitting on my porch, drinking a beer, with one hell of a story.
Joe's Honeymoon:
After their reception, they loaded onto his private jet and flew to a private resort on a Caribbean island. Joe assured me the first couple days were amazing. One evening, they were sitting at a table near the pool. A reggae band was playing in the background and he said he was getting very drunk trying all the fruity drinks. (I kept my opinion to myself, but I'm sure he saw me snicker at the thought of him drinking girly drinks in front of his beautiful bride) They danced to a couple of songs and then had a seat. As he walked up to the bar to get another round of drinks, another couple walked by. The man was black and huge. He was easily a foot taller than Joe and weighed more than double. The man was layered in muscle and exuded confidence. On his arm was a tall blonde white girl. She was a perfect example of a trophy wife and reminded him of a life sized Barbie doll. The thought of how much cosmetic surgery it must have taken to look like her, went through his mind.
As he returned to his table with the drinks, he realized, to his dismay, that the couple had sat down with his bride, Natalia. Joe sat down, hugged his wife and struck up a conversation. The couple was from New York City. The man Jamaal, was a high profile defense lawyer and his wife, Barbie, ran a small charity. It was enough to keep her busy between parties and social gatherings. Soon Jamaal grabbed Natalia's hand and dragged her to the dance floor. She was very timid at first, but as the drinks flowed Natalia and Jamaal seemed to dance closer and closer. At one point, Joe saw Jamaal cup her ass with his massive hands. When Joe pointed it out to Barbie, she shrugged and said she didn't like dancing. Whenever Joe asked Natalia to dance, she was too tired. As soon as Jamaal asked, she was ready and excited to go. At the end of the night, they all swapped phone numbers so they could meet back up for a day activity the next day. This bothered Joe greatly, but once they got back to the room, all was forgotten as he and Natalia made love before they both fell asleep.
The next morning Natalia told him she had a hangover and didn't want to get up. He had been working on his laptop, so he left it open on the table. This was not uncommon as he often enjoyed watching her move around their house, on the webcam. This was a habit of which he rarely realized he still did. He gave her a kiss on the lips and then went downstairs to the business office, intent on checking in at work. After making several phone calls he brought up the video app on his phone to see if Natalia was awake yet or not. What he saw instead was forever burned into his mind.
Natalia was laying face down on the bed. Her ass was sticking up in the air and Jamaal stood behind her. His cock was huge as Joe watched him begin to slide inside of her. It took some effort but he soon saw that Jamaal was completely buried in Natalia's pussy. His rhythm increased and he began to pound her hard. Joe was struggling with his emotions as he watched his new wife's face contort into different expressions as it was obvious she was really enjoying this. He was near tears, but had enough sense to begin recording. He ran back upstairs, taking a deep breath, he prepared to open the door planning to confront the two. But, as he approached the door he heard voices spilling into the hallway.
"Whose whore are you bitch?" came Jamaal's deep voice.
"I'm your whore." a feminine voice could be heard between all of the moans and bed springs.
"Who owns this pussy now?"
