Brownwood: Tommy Boy

Summer 2014 – Brownwood

After my Fourth of July altercation, I tried to avoid people. I was able to stay away from Angie and Erica for a few days, but not from those at work.

"I hope the other guy looks worse," Maria said as she tilted her head to examine my face better.

"Other guys," I said softly.

"Are you okay to work?"

"Yeah, but I probably need to avoid meeting clients face-to-face for a bit."

She nodded and then I saw her lips purse.

"I suppose there's a police report?"

I nodded.

"Any chance of you getting arrested?"

"Nah, I doubt it. I wasn't actually the victim, but I can't imagine anything will come of it."

"All right," she said softly. "We'll work around this. Oh and Tommy?"

I looked at her, wondering if she was going to lecture me or hug me. She always came across as some old stern librarian type, but those who knew her knew she cared for others very deeply.

"Please learn to duck," she said without breaking a smile. The laughter in her eyes betrayed her.

"So I've been told," I said, chuckling.

Fortunately, I was able to lose myself in my work the rest of the day. Other than the good-natured jabs by Jonas and Armand, things returned to normal quickly. It was a couple days later that Angie got a look at me, and while Maria was difficult to read, Angie wasn't.

She was a mixture of anger and guilt. She was pissed at me for not calling her that night at the ER, and then racked with guilt when she realized it was Bill and his buddies that'd worked me over. It took a little bit, but I convinced her it was my fault. If I hadn't sucker punched him, this probably wouldn't have happened.

I ended up being reminded repeatedly we were friends and friends call friends when they're in trouble. I realized she was trying to make me feel better, but every time she called us FRIENDS, it felt like she was emphasizing that's all we'd ever be.

After our discussion, I focused on building my love life. I finally accepted that Angie had her own love life and I wasn't going to be a part of it. All we'd ever be were good friends and I needed to learn to live with it. It was difficult, but I managed.

Sure, I fantasized about Angie on occasion, but I started looking for more realistic possibilities. There were several ladies at the gym who were of interest, and I found myself starting to go and talk to them more and more. There were also women I'd met from work who seemed to be open to dating me now. I'd started going out on occasion and a couple of those had ended up back in my apartment.

Forgettable,

I sneered to myself.

Only slightly better than one-night stands.

One bright spot was Tara. As we continued our workouts, it was getting more and more difficult not to stare at her. She was actually working her ass off, and it was starting to show.

She caught me more than once looking at her yoga pants-clad butt. Her laughter always made me blush slightly.

"Thank you, Tommy Boy," she said, giggling after catching me visually undressing her.

"Oh hell, Tara." I sighed. "Was I staring again?"

She nodded and grinned.

"Tara, I'm sorry."

"Tommy Boy, I don't mind. It's been awhile since I've been looked at like that."

I snorted. "I doubt that."

"Well," she said blushing, "yeah, but it's been a while since it was a nice guy who was doing it instead of some creeper or horndog."

We both laughed, but for different reasons. She laughed because she'd given me a compliment and was pleased with the situation. I laughed because I was trying to hide my irritation.

SAFE! NICE! Damn I was starting to hate those words.

For the next six weeks I tried to work as hard as Tara did. At the end of it, I'd made my sixty-pound goal and Tara had lost thirty pounds. It didn't look like she'd make her forty by the start of school, but she'd be close.

Since I'd made weight, I set up my date with Angie. We'd settled into a friendship type of relationship. The only real difference was I wasn't panting after her like a dog. If she noticed, she never said anything about it.

Erica had turned five, was starting kindergarten and it allowed Angie to start taking classes at St Catherine's. She'd started working towards being a physical therapist. When I picked her up, I met Erica at the front door.

"Tommy Bear!" she squealed.

"Hey, Goldilocks!"

I reached down and picked her up.

"You taking Momma out on a date?"

"Yep, that's the plan."

"Can I come, too?"

"Not this time, sweetheart," said an elderly woman behind her.

She was a thin, frail woman who looked to be in her sixties. With her oversized bifocals and short gray hair, she had the grandma look down.

"Monica Harper," she said, extending her hand.

I shook it and was surprised by the strength she still had in her grip.

"Tommy Swanson," I replied.

"I know," Mrs. Harper said smiling. "I've heard all about Tommy Bear and the men's room!"

I groaned.

She laughed. "Amazing what little eyes and ears pick up."

"By the way, you look very nice tonight, Mr. Swanson," she continued, then reached and straightened my tie.

"Thank you."

I'd dressed up for the evening with a suit jacket and tie since I was taking Angie to DiVesto's on the Square. With the weight loss, I'd been able to wear some of my better clothes from college.

When Angie came out of the bedroom, I nearly choked. She was wearing a simple strand of pearls with her version of a little black dress, but it was stunning. I had to remind myself we were going out only as friends before I embarrassed myself by drooling.

The entire evening was like that, me reminding myself this wasn't a real date. Angie didn't do anything to make me think differently, so I slowly relaxed into having a casual night out with a beautiful woman.

DiVesto's was both incredible and expensive, but it was expected. My beautiful date was easily worth it. Angie was only hit upon once while we were there, and it was when she was returning from the ladies' restroom. It was very different when we decided to go dancing and went down the square to the Strobe.

We hadn't even sat down before she was asked to dance. It was the first of a couple dozen times. Surprisingly, Angie turned each one down, even after I reminded her we were out tonight only as friends. She reminded me she'd done the same thing when we were out on the Fourth of July. Her reasoning was simple: she was out with me and wasn't looking to set up a date with someone else.

The only times I struggled that night was when I held her closely as we danced to the slower songs. My gut had been greatly reduced and I was able to pull her even more tightly into my chest. The warmth of her breath, her incredible scent and the heat that radiated from her crushed breasts made me lose myself in my own little fantasy where she was mine. Unfortunately, those slower songs were way too short and were sparsely played during the evening.

The night ended with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Tommy Boy," she said softly. "It's been a long time since I've been on such a fun date. You were the perfect gentleman."

Now I had another phrase to add to my list of annoying labels besides nice and safe: perfect gentleman.

I decided shortly afterwards I needed to get serious about looking for someone who I could possibly fall in love with and with whom I could spend the rest of my life. I'd mentally selected a few possibilities and vowed to myself to ask them out during the upcoming week.

As usual, Fate had other ideas.

The first interruption of my plans was work-related. The network install took up all my time other than my workout sessions with Angie and Tara.

Second, was that even though classes at St. Catherine's had started two weeks earlier, Tara hit her weight goal. It was a privilege to set up a date with her for the upcoming Friday night. She told me to pick her up at her apartment that she was sharing with two of her girlfriends.

When I picked up Tara, I was taken back. She wore black knee-high laced boots, a pair of jeans she must've poured herself into, and a metallic blood-red and black corset that squeezed her waist and cupped her ample breasts.

"Damn, girl," I said, stepping back and making a show of looking her over from head to foot.

She giggled softly as she pirouetted, basking in my obvious approval. She let her long black hair whip around her like a cape and when she was done it hung to one side and draped over one breast. I was amazed at the sheer power of her sexuality. She epitomized the concept of what a big beautiful woman should be.

"Amazing what a little make-up, a corset, and a pair of SPANXs can accomplish, don't you think?"

"I think all those things can certainly help, but only if you've something already there to start with. And you, Tara, were already something. You look beautiful and sexy as hell!"

Her dark brown eyes danced and her smile was dazzling. Apparently this big dumb animal can say the right thing every once in a while.

I took her out to eat and was surprised when she suggested Sherman's Wharf, a little seafood place off the Interstate. Definitely not upscale, but a good place for freshwater fish and shellfish. I'd expected her to want to go to one of Brownwood's more high-class places like DiVesto's or Maison Le Rouge.

She must've seen my surprise and laughed.

"Tommy Boy, I plan on dancing my ass off tonight. A salad at the Wharf will be perfect. Besides, I can barely breathe in this thing and eating something heavy might make it explode!"

"You say that like it would be a bad thing," I said, laughing.

"You wish!" She giggled, but continued to stare at me with her smoky gaze.

"This is your night, beautiful. Your wish is my command."

"Well then, good sir," she said in a haughty voice, "doth my carriage await?"

"After you, my lady," I said, bowing deeply.

She was right; our citrus mixed-greens salads with grilled prawns were the perfect beginning to a night of dancing. Tara had decided on the club scene at the Strobe, which was fine with me, since my past experiences at the City Lights were still a little fresh in my mind.

The evening started out fantastic. Tara was looking very sexy and was getting the attention of several guys. When the first one came over to ask her to dance, she surprised me by looking over at me and asking my permission. Of course I gave it, but afterwards asked her about it.

"Tara, thank you for asking me, but remember this is your night. If you want to dance with a guy, I'm certainly not going to get in your way."

She looked at me for a moment with disappointment.

"Tommy Boy, you're my date for the evening and I always leave with the guy who brought me. Now, if I get to dance with any guy I want to... you need to get off your ass and get out there on the dance floor with me!"

That set the tone for the next couple hours: Tara dancing with me most of the time but also dancing occasionally with another guy. All in all, we were having a great time, but like all good things, there's always a bug which tries to ruin it. This time it was a pest from my past.

I didn't notice her until I heard her voice from behind us.

"Oh my god, look at you!" her voice grated, "it looks like you finally pushed yourself away from the buffet!"

I turned and saw Susie standing there looking like a hot porn star. Her clothes, her make-up, everything about her, screamed sex. It was a look she could pull off both well and easily.

Accompanying her were two men. The first was a big tall well-built blond about my age who was dressed in a several thousand dollar Italian style suit. He looked European and had a snotty smug look on his face.

The other was a shorter slight-built man who made me think of a middle-aged Johnny Depp trying to look like a bookworm. I recognized him as one of the Hawthornes and I'd seen him at the Strobe several times over the past year. He was watching our situation with an emotionless gaze.

"Oh my god!" I replied in a mocking tone. "It looks like the herpes sores have finally healed! Did you finally gets those other little things cleared up or simply accept it as a curse for being a whore?"

"Fuck you!" she sneered.

"I told you before, never again, and besides," I said returning her sneer, "I doubt you've change for a twenty anyways."

Her blond companion now had a look of pure hatred as he stepped towards me. Hawthorne placed a hand on his arm and shook his head.

"Easy there, Hans," I spat. "I wasn't doing anything but enjoying my date before I was propositioned by this... umm... lady. By the way, if you two are her dates tonight I'd make sure to verify her medical release. I'm pretty sure some of those things weren't curable."

I saw the big European's face blanch and noticed a small smirk on the bookworm's face.

"I see you're moving up in weight classes for dates these days," Susie taunted as she glared at Tara.

I saw the hurt in Tara's eyes. I reached over and took her hand. It was enough to briefly distract her from Susie and look into my eyes. What she saw there made her smile. I turned back and grinned at Susie.

"Damn. Susie." I laughed. "It must be painful knowing a woman you think is beneath you could, with just a smile, have a guy who wouldn't touch your diseased cunt with a dead dog's dick! You may look good on the outside, but everyone who really knows you knows what a rotting, putrid skank you are on the inside. Your ex-husband sure as hell was lucky to get away from you!"

"You..." she began to scream, drawing attention from several other tables. "You fucking..."

"That's enough!" Hawthorne barked in a voice much deeper and stronger than I expected.

"Jürgen, please take the lady back to our table," Hawthorne commanded. Jürgen glared at me before he acquiesced and guided a fuming Susie away. When they'd left, Hawthorne turned to Tara and me.

"My apologies," he said. "It wasn't my intent to ruin your evening. I hadn't realized her plans when she guided us over to your table. Please allow me to make amends."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, one of the waitresses escorted us up to the VIP area where a bottle of champagne was waiting.

"Oh hell, yes!" Tara giggled. "Now this is more like it!"

Over the next hour we laughed and danced and forgot about our little run in with Susie the Slut. When we left the club, we decided to take a long leisurely stroll around the Town Square. The September night was warmer than normal but after hours of dancing in a club it was nice to cool down. Despite the mild weather, Tara used it as an excuse to snuggle. As she pressed her soft body into mine, I knew I wasn't going to complain!

At the end of our walk I held her in my arms and kissed her. Her lips were hot and moist and I felt her lush body mold to fit mine perfectly. Minutes later, we had to come up for air. She stared at me and I wasn't able to tell what she was thinking. All I could see in her eyes was the faint flicker of the streetlights. However, her voice told me what I needed to know.

"Take me to your apartment," she whispered huskily. We barely made it into my apartment before we were exploring each other.

Tara hungrily devoured my mouth with her kisses as we stumbled over to the couch. She giggled as she fought to take my shirt off as I focused on unlacing her corset. The result was us losing our balance and falling on the couch. We both laughed briefly before getting back to the serious task at hand of undressing each other.

My shirt was the first casualty to hit the floor as I began cursing whoever thought it was brilliant to have that many damn hooks to unlace. Tara made good use of my delay as she began to unbuckle my jeans. I barely got the corset lose enough for her breasts to make an appearance before I felt a cool draft as my jeans hit the floor.

Her breasts were large, not anywhere near Angie's but a good C-cup at least. Her large dark brown areolas encircled nipples which looked like large black erasers. As I flicked the first one with my tongue, Tara let out a low moan.

"Oh yeah, Tommy Boy," she hissed softly, "just like that."

I slowly traced her dark areolas with my tongue, making sure to suckle and nip at each nipple until she grabbed my head and buried it into her cleavage. I sought out the lushness of her lips and pulled her into me, crushing her breasts into my bare chest.

We explored each other's tonsils for several minutes before she pulled back and grinned with desire. She slowly worked her way down my chest as I lay back on the couch. When she flicked the tip of my cock, I knew my boxers had been pulled to the side. Moments later, I felt the warmth of her mouth as she began to worship my manhood.

For someone so young, she knew what the hell she was doing. She had me squirming and groaning within minutes. Soon, I felt the pressure beginning to build.

"Tara," I hoarsely whispered, "I'm about to lose it."

"Do you want to cum on my face?" she said seductively.

I started to reply, but something wasn't right. I gently brought her face closer to me and kissed her deeply.

"Is that what you want?" I said softly.

She looked at me, confused.

"Tara, if you want me to, I will, but only if it's something that you get off on. You don't have to degrade yourself for me."

"But I thought all you guys..."

"No, not all guys want to defile the face of the woman they love looking at and kissing. You've been watching too much porn. Now, do you like it when a guy cums on your face?"

"I... I," she stammered, surprised by the way this conversation was going. "No, I don't particularly like it."

"Listen, if some guy tells you he wants to do that, then let him know it's okay as long as he licks your face clean afterwards. If he hesitates, tell he can still do it... right after he allows you to pee on his face! If it grosses him out, then tell him to fuck off, since all he wants to do is use you!

"Hey, I know being treated like a slut is a turn-on for some women, but it's usually only once in a while and by someone they trust or are in a relationship with. All I'm saying is you don't have to degrade yourself to make a guy want you. Dammit, Tara, you're one hell of a desirable woman already!"

She looked at me with her eyes moist and smiled warmly. I realized my erection had softened a bit with my speech, but her warmth soft mouth brought it right back up to diamond hardness.

"Now," I said softly, "where do you want me to cum?"

She grinned and her eyes got smoky as she stood up and began unbuckling her jeans. I'm not sure which she'd poured herself into the most, her jeans or that undergarment known as a SPANX. Both were like trying to remove that damn security plastic from around a new DVD!

It was erotic at first, but soon I could tell we were losing the moment. I suggested I had a knife and could cut her free. Her eyes grew huge for a minute before she began laughing, which made peeling her out of her clothes even more difficult. To make it worse, Tara let me see another side of her personality at that moment.

"Tommy Boy, I don't like being a cum-dump but ..." she said trying not to giggle, "I don't mind anal sex every once in a while."

"Oh, hell," I said, re-doubling my efforts to get her naked, much to her delight.

I felt like the humor was the intermission before the actual show began, and when I saw her laying on my couch in all her glory I could see why. She was totally exposed and every bump and fold, stretch mark and roll was now on display. She looked up at me with her huge brown eyes looking for my approval. It wasn't difficult to give. Her workout clothes hadn't hidden everything and I'd known about those areas of her body the world would've considered imperfect. It was those imperfections and the fact she allowed me to see them that made her even more special in my eyes.