This submission is written in response to the story by saddletramp1956, entitled "Warning Labels." I liked it, as I do with everything the man writes. But I really thought there should have been a pardon. Belinda shouldn't suffer for 'virtual stupidity.' So here goes. I think you will enjoy it. Again, thanks to you, boss. All credit goes to you. I'll take any blame. "Free Belinda"
Published by saddletramp1956's permission.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Presented for your consideration- The story of Ryan Johnson, a good-looking young man who worked for Global Financial Services, an accounting company. Single, six ft. three in. tall, 190 lbs. very good shape-he can bench press 210 lbs. At least he thought he was single. He is about to be dragged back into......."The Cheating Zone" DA DA DA DA, DA DA DA DA.....
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Ryan Johnson was not having a good day, nor were his nights any better. So far, over the past two weeks, three dates, or encounters, had gone down in flames.
It started with Traci, an acquaintance of his parents, who was quite attractive and outgoing. He had picked her up at her condo (she was an attorney); they had gone for drinks and dinner, followed by more drinks and dancing. But they only got to the restaurant, as it seemed every time he looked at her, he insisted on calling her, Belinda.
'Belinda?', he thought, 'Who the hell is Belinda??'
The first time it happened, she looked at him like he had two heads. She smiled and said, "It's Traci."
"Yes, of course, it is. I was just so enamored by your beauty...."
She wasn't buying it. By the time we got to the main course, it had happened several more times. Twelve, to be exact.
"Ryan, this has been stressful. Please take me home."
I paid the check. We left to get the car, and I drove her back to her condo.
I opened my door to get out to get her's, but she said, "Don't bother. Call me when 'Belinda' is not around anymore."
She shut the door, turned on her heel, and went inside.
'Well, that went not well,' I thought as I drove home
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
That was Friday night. The following Thursday, I was having drinks after work when one of the account reps from another department came up and asked if she could join us. She and another young woman had just come in. Being gentlemen, we immediately said sure.
Her name was Sharon, and she was recently divorced. I quickly realized that she was coming on to me. 'This looks promising,' I thought.
"So, how are you finding the new department, Belinda?"
'NO, NOT AGAIN!!' She looked at me, and she said, "Who's Belinda??"
"I don't know. It's not you, though. I have been in a fog for the past week or so, and I don't know why." With a conscious effort, I said," Can you forgive me, Sharon?"
She smiled and said, "Sure. It was just a one-time thing."
The evening progressed, and we danced. The dancing got more intense, and soon Sharon was grinding her nether region into my cock. She moaned as the combination of the drinks and the close contact was pushing her to a decision.
"Why don't we adjourn to someplace more suitable?" she said. She stuck her tongue in my mouth and grabbed my cock. I groaned around her tongue, grabbed her ass, and said, "Sounds wonderful, Belinda."
She pushed away from me, slapped my face, and stormed out.
'WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME???" I thought. 'And WHO the hell is Belinda???' My life was becoming a train wreck. That's when the thoughts started.
'Ryan, I love you. Where are you? There is no love here. OH GOD, they are starting again!! AAGGHH' Then there was silence in my mind.
'WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??'
One week later, we are meeting the new transfer from the London office, and coffee, tea, and cakes were the rule of the day. Her name was Esmerelda. She was talking to me, and I clearly was taken with her. And I had just met her. 'This could be interesting!!' I thought.
Guess what? She looked at me and asked if we could go somewhere more intimate? "Sure, Belinda."
Ahh, no, not again. She looked at me and said, "Or maybe you should ask Belinda!" She turned and walked over to Tommy Jones. 0 for 3; So much for suave and debonair.
So here I sat, nursing a beer, on Friday night. I turned on the boob tube, and the Sy-Fy channel came up with "Twilight Zone" reruns. One of the old black and white episodes ended, and the screen suddenly went to snow. The thoughts started again.
"Ryan, GOD, please help me. I need you. There is no love. It's only sex. Please love. OH, no, he's coming again. And there are four of them. For the love of GOD, HELP ME!!"
What the fuck? Then I saw it. A blonde, in a diaphanous shift, moving to the stairs. She paused about four steps up, and turned to me, and begged ''Help!' 'PLEASE!'
The wraith proceeded up the stairs. I jumped up and followed.
I ran upstairs and turned into my bedroom.
There she was, naked on the bed, tossing and turning in the throes of sexual pleasure. But she was screaming, 'NO, NO; it's not love. STOP!' Then it was like someone shoved something in her mouth, as she started to gag, sucking on something.
I sank to my knees and said, "Please, God, help me. PLEASE- help me. I don't know what to do!!"
Then she slowly fades away until she disappeared. I was stunned! I turned and went back downstairs, only to come face to face with a red-skinned gnome in a three-piece business suit. He was sitting in my favorite recliner, smirking, and had a red briefcase open on the coffee table.
"Who the fuck are you? And how did you get into my house??
"Ahh, you don't remember me, do you? Allow me to re-introduce myself.
"I am Mr. Zrglbork, a representative from TCZ Enterprises. I am here to fix a few paperwork problems with your previous contract with us. Nothing major; I just need your signature and initials on a few things."
His slimy smirk would make a hyena puke.
"What do you mean? I didn't have any 'contract' with your company. I've never even HEARD of your company!!"
"OHH, don't worry about that. Just sign and initial where indicated, and we can clear this up." He pushed several documents across to me, with the tags indicating where signatures and initials were required, and handed me a pen.
Now, my dad always told me to never, ever sign anything without reading it. Especially when some suspicious, slimy lawyer tells you to. And this guy fits the bill on these accounts. I started to read, and he had a panic-laden fit.
"You don't have to do that. It's not necessary. I suggest signing as I told you to do. NOW."
With that, my doorbell rang.
'Who the hell is this?' I wondered.
"DON'T ANSWER THAT," he shrieked. "IT"S NOT NECESSARY."
Well, now I DEFINITELY wanted to answer the door. I noticed as I stood up that my guest seemed to freeze in his seat and struggled to move and get up. No luck. It was like he was locked in place. I kept my eyes on him as I got to the door and opened it to confront an attractive, mature woman.