John and Barbara were minor characters that appeared in another Literotica submission I wrote called "Sixty Seconds over Laura". In that telling, they were pretty much glossy cartoon figures that showed up in a flashback and were there to provide some context to the depravity of the main story line. However something weird happened over time. Every time I re-read that story they seemed to get into my head and ask, maybe demand might be a better description, for their back stories to be fleshed out. Not an easy task... they were meant to be disposable characters and coming up with believable story lines that didn't bog down in details wasn't easy. What I've done is to rewrite the scene that they appeared in and do it from their perspective. And did my best to keep it interesting and at least, mildly lewd. Did I hit the mark?
1966
I met John in grammar school when we were 13. We both lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan in apartments that were roughly the same size. The difference was that in my place, there were 3 of us (parents and myself) with a big living room, walk in closets and multiple bathrooms to use. John lived in a similar apartment a few blocks north but shared it with 25 to 30 room mates, mostly undocumented immigrants from the Caribbean and Central America.
For personal space, he still shared a bed with his mother, set off in a far corner of what would have been the living room. There were beds lining the entire perimeter of the room with each one hosting at least two or three people, occasionally an entire family. It was common for them to sleep in shifts with the parents holding down one or two jobs and the nights set aside for the kids to sleep so that they could be available to go to school the next day.
His father had left long before he was born. His mother, quite beautiful back in her day, had been worn down by years of scraping by cleaning other people's houses. Turning tricks when things got really desperate. Staying a step ahead of immigration and relying on shamans and Santeria to take care of her declining health. Unfortunately, the votive candles, incantations and chicken blood didn't have much effect on the glucose levels that were ravaging her body and now, diabetic with failing eyesight, she was more often trading sex for money just to keep food on the table.
There wasn't much room for privacy. John learned about the birds and the bees from all the random fucking that went on in a place like that. In another, slightly different time line, all those bad influences might have conspired to steer him into joining a gang or becoming a drug addict and be lost to the world before he reached his twenties. Fortunately, he liked to read and found refuge at the library and classrooms of our grammar school. By the time he was 17, he was a straight A student and qualified for enough scholarships and financial aid to put himself through college.
1973
He met Barbara in his freshman year at City College. At a mixer for incoming freshmen she spotted him from clear across the room. Drawn to his finely chiseled features and the wavy jet black hair that framed his face, he was "pretty" she thought. So much so that she had to think for a moment to accurately gauge what gender he might be. Most days, it wouldn't matter. She would have been fine with either but tonight, she was hungry to feel a big, hard cock inside her.
After some small talk to qualify him as the next notch on her bedpost, she took him by the hand and lead him into an empty bedroom. She'd been a shameless slut (or for you PC types, sexually adventurous) in high school. She'd done this enough times to know exactly what she was doing. For John though, this was going to be his first time with a woman. He was lucky that he matched with someone as experienced as Barbara. The bed was piled high with coats from all the guests. She swept them aside and fumbled to pull his cock out of his pants. Sucked him until he was hard. Pushed him down onto the bed and lowered herself onto his unexpectedly large cock.
At that point, his own sexual history had been entirely in service to older men. From as early as he could remember, sharing a bed with his mother meant a front row seat to the men who would come to visit her at night. Someone had thought to string up a clothesline around the room and hanging a bedsheet from it granted the residents just enough privacy from prying eyes to get on with the business of life. John had no idea what sex was of course so other than the annoyance of being rudely woken up from a sound sleep, the action was just something he watched unfold in discrete steps.
Men would show up, quietly draw the bedsheet aside and gently nudge his mother to wake her up. She would put their penises in her mouth. Sometimes they'd climb on top and rock their hips into her. On a good night there might be some giggling. Hushed moaning and heavy breathing. Then they'd give her some money, which she never failed to put under her pillow and quickly fade off to sleep. He noticed that on nights when this happened, she fell asleep faster and tended to wake up smiling and in a better mood. She needed the money of course but the truth was her life had been hard. She probably craved their attention just as much as the cash. Not sure which of the two made the bigger difference in making her happy.
When he was older he asked her about what it all meant but she hushed all his questions.
"I can't tell you what you want to know when you won't understand the answers..." was her usual reply.
Around the time he hit puberty he started to notice a change. Instead of getting annoyed at the noise and commotion of the disruptions of his mother's visitors, his own cock started to take on a life of its own... it grew bigger and harder just like the ones on the men who came to see her. He began to be more and more fascinated with everything that went on until his mother, noticing that he wasn't a child any more and a bit more flush with money, was able to pay enough to get John his own room.
She had the best of intentions of course but John alone in his own room meant that he was now open for visitors too. Instead of money, men would bring him little presents... baseballs, t-shirts, converse sneakers. He'd watched his own mother enough times to have an idea of what they wanted and was curious to try on his own. Like her, he was happy for the gifts and absent a father in his life, grateful for the attention they'd bring. This arrangement finally came to an end only when he started college and moved into a dorm.
Barbara, with her pale skin, ice blue eyes and hair cut to a spiky bob presented a brand new gender that he had no experience with. For him to be the one on his back as she used him to fuck herself to multiple orgasms was a dream come true. When he finally came, Barbara was shocked by the force and quantity of the semen spurting inside of her.
"How long have you been saving that up?" she asked breathless as she collapsed onto his chest, the fluids from her pussy spilling thoughtlessly onto someone's fine leather coat.
The younger Barbara had been diligent about using condoms but the sheer amount of sex she was having started to reduce her sense of urgency. From using them every single time, to just the first few times, to occasionally, to now... mostly as an afterthought. If she was going to get pregnant she would have by now she thought. She hadn't counted on John's athletic sperm to do its job as well as it did. Almost nine months to the day, John and Barbara introduced Xavier into the world and their identity as a family was sealed.
1983
Their first 10 years together were close to perfect. Advanced degrees for both of them. Another child on the way. Making enough money to move into an upscale apartment and having enough room to take care of John's mother who was now in the early stages of dementia. He was able to buy the drugstore that he'd worked at since he was a teen. By all accounts, an American dream come true. They turned out to be unexpectedly well matched. John was calm. Submissive by nature. Dedicated to doing whatever he could to make his wife happy. Barbara was passionate and fiery and even the occasional rages that would flare up with her started to fade as the idea of being happy as a family gave them a common cause to work towards.
In their first year together Barbara had secretly fucked a few guys on the side. They were mostly exes who showed up unexpectedly and maybe out of habit and some misguided sense of obligation, she went through the rituals of sucking, fucking and briefly reveling in the familiar feeling of being a whore. At some point she realized what she was doing could put everything in jeopardy and decided to be as faithful and honest as she could. Her wild oats were sown already.
Ironically, it was John who had a much harder time being faithful. He did have a lot to deal with. He'd just brought a business and was obsessing with the million details needed to keep it running. There was a son and another on the way now and determined not to repeat the neglect of his own experience, he was as attentive and devoted a father as he could be. But some part of him missed his early life when he was easily, openly sexually available for use. No one was as surprised as he was when he decided to revisit his old apartment. Most of the guys who had taken advantage of him when he was younger were still there. Older, fatter, slower but no less predatory.
This time though it was John that made the moves. There was a temporarily empty room and once word got out that John was back, his old lovers cued up to have a turn with him. When he was younger, it was always one on one. Now older and pressed for time, they came in groups of 2 or 3 and he was eager and happy to service them all. To suck their cocks, swallow their cum and lose himself in the bliss and mindless effort of being used.
