Chapter 1: A Little Joy
I woke up from my peaceful slumber at about nine thirty in the morning. My mom was still fast asleep in her bed, and waking her up would be a bad idea. She works the graveyard shift at a local diner and deals with all the crazies at the time of day they are most active. The alarm clock in her room would wake her. That's why she bought the thing.
My name is James Cook and I am nineteen years old. My father has been dead for nine years now. I should be in college, but instead I'm choosing to put college off for another year so that I can help my mother out. She's done so much for me in the past, this is my way of saying thanks. It's the least I can do.
I rubbed the last of sleep out of my burning blue eyes and got my clothes ready. The bathroom seemed a million miles away at the moment. I was bone tired and not willing to work another day at the cemetery. All I did was cut grass and water flowers seven hours a day. Usually I start at some seven in the morning, but my boss did me a favor, one day during the week he let me come in at ten and gave me the full day's pay. Kenton Wilbur is the name of my boss. He drives a blue van all day and shouts out of an open window. Usually the words coming out of his mouth are, "Get back to work you lazy bastards! We're not paying you people to jerk off all the fucking day."
I changed into my clothes, took a piss, washed my hands and brushed my teeth. The cemetery was ten minutes away from my house so I had plenty of time. I took a piece of paper from the kitchen table and wrote my mother a letter. "Off to work, have a pleasant day, see you later, your son, JC," I wrote. The notes made my mom feel better, or so I hope to believe. I left the note on the table.
Before I left I snatched a bag of apples from the top of the refrigerator and took off out of the house. I buy a bag of apples every day. It is the only food I'll eat for breakfast. I don't care for cereal or cakes. I'm perfectly happy with the apples.
Apples in hand I opened the door and closed it behind me. I locked up before I headed down the stairs. I removed one of the apples from the bag and took a big bite from it. My mouth watered before I began to chew. My mother calls me The Apple Man and she has every right to call me just that. I'm also Jamie Appleseed, but that was a name given to me when I was four. I used to plant apple seeds all over the neighborhood, in all the yards and dirt I could fine. Nothing came from my labor, however, it made me happy.
My mom and I live on the third floor of the apartment. I walked down three flights of stairs. In that time I had finished one apple and began munching away at another apple. I walked out of the apartment building and let the cool air blew against my face. The skies were dark early in the morning. Looking at the ground it appeared that rain had fallen while I slept. It felt as if it were going to rain any minutes. I took one last bite into my second apple and discarding the remains on the parking lot pavement. Walking to the car I saw my mom's friend getting into her own car. She looked my direction and stopped what she was doing.
"Off to work," Joy Holdman said to me in a sweet voice. She is also my neighbor. She lives in the apartment across from ours.
"Same boring thing as usual," I told her. We were suddenly standing face to face. She reached out and touched my arm.
"The sun is doing you some good. Making you nice and dark." She smiled at me.
Joy was twenty-five years old. She was lightly tanned and had dark blond hair. Her eyes were very blue. She tried to seduce men with her smile, but only attracted men with her big breasts. She is five foot five and I'd say about one hundred and forty pounds. She was between fat and skinny, leaning more toward chunky. She was still pretty in her own way. Her lips are thick. Her teeth are white. Her nipples stuck out from her tight shirt. She worked in the same diner as my mother, only she worked the good shift. The breakfast shift.
Her left hand was circling around my chest, and for a moment it actually felt good to have a woman's touch on my body. Even if the woman was my mom's friend. "You're becoming pretty strong too." Joy flirts with me often, but usually I can ignore her and get on with my day. I could not see why today was any different, but it was.
She came a little closer. A faces were separated by only inches. I'd never let her get this close to me. My heart was hammering fast. I could smell her breath on my face. Then she did something I'd never allowed her to do. Her hand grabbed my crotch. She was squeezing the developing erection in her hand. Her mumbling something under her breath. I could feel her large breasts on my stomach. She moving all around my crotch, making my erection harder. Making my penis grow to full size. Her lips touched my neck, then I felt her kissing my chin. Are lips met slowly. She didn't kiss me with any passion. Just an innocent kiss on the lips while she rubbed my cock through my jeans.
Without warning she stopped. The second her hand was gone I desperately felt the need to pull it back. She blew me a kiss. "You are going to be late to work," she said. For the first time I saw her little girl watching us from the back seat of her car. "Lilly don't need to see her mommy get horny over the kid next door." For the first time in my life I was speechless. "Your mom working the graveyard shift."
Yes I nodded with my head slowly.
"Good. Maybe I can tuck you in to bed tonight." Joy put her finger to her lips. "But don't tell anyone. This is our little secret."
"Okay," I managed.
She blew me a kiss and walked back to her car. A minute later she was gone, but not forgotten. I couldn't believe what just happened. Joy had finally gotten her hooks into me. I'd been so strong, but this morning I could not refuse her slutty temptations. I felt weak, excited and tired all at the same time. I got into my own beat up beige station wagon and pulled out of my spot. I drove off to cemetery. Off to work I go. Kenton Wilbur didn't pay me to stand around and jerk off all fucking day. I erection softened on the way to another miserable tiring day with the dead.
Even though I only worked for four hours, by the end of the day my feet were in very bad condition. The grass was soaked from the rain. My socks were soaked minutes after I walked on the grass. Walking, almost hobbling, I put away the hose I'd been using to water the flowers and told Kenton I was leaving.
"See you tomorrow," he grunted. Even on his better days he sounded miserable. I am the only worker he'd ever treated with respect. My father was his best friend once upon a time. "Tell your mother I said hi."