*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least Eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
*.*
Robin Van Dorscht knew this day would come. He'd been with Superior Motors for nine weeks and thus far had made only one sale. So, when Andy Delacroix quietly asked Robin to come to his office, Robin gave a wan smile to Brian and Glen, his fellow salespeople and walked down the carpeted hallway.
A few moments later, Robin quietly wished Briand and Glen well, shook their hands, and left Superior Motors. Andy joined the two salesmen and they watched Robin climb into his Nissan.
"Numbers, gentlemen," Andy said firmly. "It's all about your numbers."
"Yepper," Brian agreed.
"Yepper? YEPPER? Does anyone even say that anymore?" Glen taunted Brian.
"Hey, uh, bitch? Three. That's right. Three sales this week. Oh. And uh, one pre-owned. That's right, the Mercedes Andy was about to trade off. So, uh, yepper, you can kiss my ass," Brian smirked as they watched Robin drive away.
Arriving home at his Eastlawn Condominium, Robin saw Nicole's car and frowned. She was supposed to be at work so it just made no sense that her car would be in front of the condominium at this time of the day.
"Robin! I uh, what are you doing, why are you home?" Nicole stammered when Robin entered.
"Sales were bad, so got let go," Robin said, unknotting his tie. "But, uh, what you doing home?"
"I uh, I'm," Nicole started, then seemed to puff up.
Robin watched as the thirty four year old woman set her jaw firmly and even got a smirk on her face. He calmly waited, idly wondering if there was any beer in the refrigerator.
"Well, the truth is? I've found a real man," Nicole said, triumphantly.
"Oh? How nice for you," Robin shrugged.
Then he surprised Nicole by grabbing her purse. Before she could react, he pulled her keys out of the purse and took his house key, and the key to the Chevy Malibu. He also removed her mailbox key.
"You can't, that, that's my car," Nicole screamed.
"Oh, no ma'am, it is not your car," Robin said. "My name on the title, my name on the insurance, my car. This uh, real man of yours? Get him give you a car."
"But all my stuff's in the car," Nicole shrilled. "And Gloria's and Debbie's."
"Call your real man, tell him he needs get his real ass down here and I'll let you unload my real car," Robin snapped. "Oh, and tell your real man, he comes anywhere near me? I'll assume he intends to do me some real harm and I will really hurt him."
"As if you could," Nicole sneered.
Nicole must not have warned Bruce Greg, because the first thing Bruce tried to do was grab Robin. Robin's foot swept out and put Bruce onto the ground, hard. He then stepped on Bruce's throat.
"I've had a real shitty day, 'real man,'" Robin snarled. "So, nothing would make me happier than putting your real ass in a real hospital. Now, both of y'all just need get her shit, and her two bitch ass daughters' shit and go. Got it?"
Smirking from the doorway of his condo, Robin supervised the hurried emptying of the automobile. Then, when Nicole tried to push past him, Robin shoved her back, hard.
"No ma'am. You no longer live here. There's any of your shit? Or the two cunts? I'll box it up and call you and tell you where and when you can pick up the shit," Robin said firmly.
With that, Robin hit the key fob locking the Chevy. Then he slammed the door of his condo shut over Nicole's protests.
Entering his bedroom, Robin surveyed the chaos. He straightened up, sighing heavily.
The room that Gloria and Debbie had shared was also in a state of disarray. Robin saw the two teddy bears he'd bought when Nicole had broached the subject of bringing her fourteen and twelve year old daughters and moving in with him. Gloria had sneered, and after a moment, Debbie had sneered at the teddy bears as well.
Robin did box up what was left of the girls' clothing. The last thing he did was toss the two teddy bears into the boxes, along with the two pillows from their beds. Then he boxed up the last of Nicole's things.
"Parking lot of Burns & Burns on Straightway Highway, thirty minutes," Robin snapped. "You're not there, I'll assume you no longer want your stuff and I'll bring it down to Goodwill."
"Why are you being such an ass hole?" Nicole snarled.
"Sorry, but that was rule number one in the handbook on dealing with treacherous back stabbing cunts," Robin said. "Thirty minutes, starts now."
Bruce Greg decided to try a lead pipe this time. Nicole's scream told Robin that she had no idea the buffoon was going to try this.
"Might want drop it," Robin smiled, his .44 magnum in his hand before Bruce cleared the rear of his battered pickup truck.
"Bruce, get back in the truck," Nicole ordered.
Muttering angrily, Bruce did so. Robin put the boxes into the rear of the truck, then drove away.
*.*
That week, and the next week, Robin sent out resumes. He went on a few job interviews. The third week of his unemployment, Robin found it harder and harder to get out of bed. Once he did rouse himself, Robin would turn on his computer, then sit and stare at the screen before finally clicking onto the Internet.
He went through the job listings. He went through the employment sites. Then he would sit, sipping his coffee, staring at, but not seeing the screen.
Twenty four days after Andy Delacroix called Robin into his office, Robin got a call from Oakleaf Public Utilities. He was hired on, mainly because of his bachelor's in Business Administration from Connelly College. Robin hacked off his growth of stubble, ironed his shirts, brought his suits down to the dry cleaners and had them cleaned and pressed.
"Must have got a job," the old man at the dry cleaner's commented.
"I uh, yeah, yes I did," Robin agreed, surprised.
"Bunch of suits, and you're smiling," the man explained, filling out the ticket on his computer screen. "Usually, guy brings in whole bunch of suits? He's smiling, it's because he's got a new job. He's got that hang dog look? Just got fired and is looking. Nothing? It's just another day for that guy. You're smiling."
"Yes I am," Robin smiled, taking his claim stubs.
"Good luck buddy," the man said.
Robin went back to his condo and logged onto his computer again. During his depression, Robin had fallen prey to an addiction; on-line pornography.
At first, it had been the straight suck and fuck pornography, man on woman. Then, after tiring of that, Robin had looked at some man and man on woman, man and man and man on woman. After growing weary of that as well, Robin perused anal. Lesbian. Extreme lesbian, fisting, inserting large objects into vaginas and rectums, et cetera.
Then Robin clicked on Gay pornography. He watched as men pleasured other men. He watched as men used other men for their own pleasure.
Once, when in high school, Robin had been touched by the boyfriend of another classmate. Robin had been drunk and the other guy had fondled Robin's fat cock and balls. Then a third drunk had staggered into the bathroom and Robin and the other guy had left the bathroom. The guy and his girlfriend left shortly afterward; Robin never saw that guy again.
Right when the third guy had walked into the bathroom, Robin had been reaching his own hand out for his new friend's cock. Robin always wondered, just what would have happened if they'd locked the bathroom door. Would they have jerked each other off? Would his new friend have sucked Robin's cock? Would his new friend have forced Robin onto his knees and fucked Robin's protesting hole?
Robin fit in well in his new job. His supervisor at Oakleaf's Public Utilities appreciated Robin's dedication; at twenty nine, Robin was not a child. Robin had a home to pay for, bills to pay, and the knowledge that, job or no job, those bills would continue to come in. Those bills would need to be paid.
"Mom and dad died when I was sixteen," Robin said when he and his supervisor went over his 90 day evaluation. "Kind of made me realize, no one's going wipe my... Nose for me."
The older woman smiled, thrusting her sagging chest toward Robin. Robin smirked as he signed the evaluation.
At the end of August, Robin realized he was about to turn the big three oh. And he had a three day weekend, Labor Day to celebrate.
"Jesus, what? Been four, no, no, been five months since you been laid," Robin said when he crawled into his car at the end of his work day.
He was now driving the Chevy Malibu; it was newer than his old Nissan. It was a nicer car, and was more fuel efficient as well.
"Turning thirty. You've never done it, you know you want to do it," Robin argued with himself. "Got a whole three day weekend."