Thursday, January 23, 2014

First Chapter of God Loathes You

Stephanie Jones

I remember the first time I laid eyes on her. She was a petite blond with an hourglass figure and perky little tits topped off by a cute smile. Her long, golden fleece of hair was always done up in a ponytail, allowing me to get lost in her depth-less sky blues. I thought to myself, what a fine gift to mankind she was. A divine gift sent from on high, and how could I a mere mortal soul, get close to it?

Thinking back, I doubt those were my exact thoughts but one can romanticize one’s own thoughts, can’t they? She was popular the instant she walked down the halls. And why wouldn’t she be? She had the looks, came from a good background and a laundry list of other qualifications. In spite of it all, she was a real sweetie and down to earth. Yeah I was quite the quiet boy in class and especially around the ladies.

She went on to become the head cheerleader and the envy of the entire squad. Henry Williams, the star quarterback, and big jock on campus, took to her like a fish out of water. This sudden release from his previous shackles of lust resistance was no surprise. His coach had kept him and the rest of the football team on a short lease and I guess I had hoped that would score me a chance with our new head cheerleader. Wishful thinking, I suppose.

High School had been a drag and the only thing besides her that kept it interesting for me was my twin friends, Eric and Tyson, and our mutual interest in smoking cigarettes and having dreams about hot female celebrity losing our virginities. Now, you may be asking how we, who obsessed over sex so much, could not seal the deal. First and foremost, we didn’t come from money and second of all, none of us drove, let alone had a car.

Anyway, on the return from Christmas break, this being my sophomore year in high school; I had managed to convince my folks to take me to the DMV to get the driving test out of the way. And I passed it on the first go. And later that week I had landed me a job at Hardees. So far so good I thought. My plan was starting to come together. There was a hitch, however. And that was how to win Stephanie’s heart without getting my ass kicked by the J Crew catalog.

Weeks passed and I got my first check. The first dollar was put in a frame and a few more spent on junk food and the rest I deposited in a bank account. Still I hadn’t seen much of the girl of my dreams except for fourth period Algebra, and that was it. I wasn’t much into sports. I had played some little league ball in Nassau County and at my old middle school. But once I moved down south my ambitions changed. Hell I don’t think I knew what I wanted back then. Maybe I still don’t.

A month went by and then another before my Steph stopped by my place of employment. Her face glowed and her smile left me quiet and giddy. She must have taken my silence and stupid facial expression as a sign that I was ready to take her order. Yes, luck would have me working the front when of all people showed up. After finally hearing her words for what must’ve been the third attempt at ordering, I stammered through that confused and dorky facial expression that will forever haunt me.
Then something unexpected happened. She spoke to me and I mean like directly to me. “I know you, don’t I?” she asked her voice soft and gentle and friendly.

All I could do was nod and smile. Good thing my feet were hidden behind the counter because the only thing keeping me from making a worse fool of myself was me stopping my foot hard. It worked well enough to get a few words out. “Yeah, we got fourth period Algebra together with Mrs. Stone,” I managed evenly.
She smiled and paid for her food. I took the smile and returned it with one of my own. And right as she was about to leave she said, “You’re James, aren’t ya?” To which I quickly responded before I lost my nerve, “Yes,” smiling still.

 So this went on for the rest of the school year unbeknownst to the star jock. She and I became good friends and while that was great and all I tried for more. She did like me but she already had a man and his name was, Henry Williams. So I dialed back my personal affection and gave her some room.

 Mr. Jock gave me the stink eye every time we passed in the halls. Boy was I on edge, thinking this was the time he’d use my face as his personal punching bag. But it never happened. Did he think me not worth his time? Or did he resist the urge to bludgeon me into an unrecognizable mess out of respect to her and her friendship with me? I don’t know and to be honest I couldn’t give a fuck.

One afternoon in my junior year, it was august. I was in Ms. Heathe’s AP English Lit class and it was the hottest day that year. I recall sweating balls and being particularly horny. A few days ago I had received my first and only sexual gratuity in the form of a brief albeit notable blowy in the janitor’s closet. Cynthia Barnes, known for insatiable sexual appetite, had made her make on me. I paid her attention and as a reward for my attention and supposed affection, she returned the favor in her own special way.

I guess this was an awakening of sorts. Cynthia had stirred something that had lain dormant in me since birth. My sleeping dragon was wide awake and hungry for sexual pleasure. Enter Ms. Heathe and her sweaty, tanned hard body and perfectly formed gams that beckoned young me to them akin to sirens to desperate sailors looking for safe harbor. But unlike the sirens, Ms. Heathe had no ill intent. She was just a crazed little sex starved wrench.

On that day in question, I got a real up close and personal lesion on life, lust and sex. This was the last class of the day and when the 3 o’clock bell rang everyone got up out of their seats and bailed-everyone except me that was. I was the teacher’s pet. Her words not mine, mind you. I was a decent student with passing grades. Frankly, the only reason I was in an AP course was the letter of recommendation written by my sophomore English teacher Mrs. Madeline Johnson. She was a pretty hot number but I was a little too young to know if I wanted anything to do with girls, sexually or otherwise. I knew right away that she liked me, partly because she told me so but also due to her always eyeing me over her glasses. And years later I’d remember her after, whacking off to this hot brunette I saw wearing a button down dress shirt. It had clearly belonged to the man she was blowing. But I am diverting off course here.

Let’s back up quite a bit to the heated moment. And let me tell you it wasn’t from the weather outside. We could have been caught in the middle of a blizzard and I’d have to step outside to cool down. I had taken off my work shirt and left my t-shirt on and pulled off my work pants in favor of my thinner shorts. Sweat beaded down my face and my eyes squinted in response and widened as they watched her slowly march towards me. Her right index finger went into her mouth and she sucked on that digit passionately, all the time keeping her gaze fixed on me.

I took a deep breath held it in, steadying myself. I told myself this was it. I would become a man in this moment and be well on my way to engaging in future sexual encounters. But as fate would have it there came a known on the door. I pulled on my work shirt and pants and watched astonished by how quickly she made herself decent. She cracked the door open just wide enough for me to catch a glimpse of who was on the other side. It was Stephanie and I felt my heart race.

Unsure of her feelings for me, and not wanting to get Ms. Heathe in trouble I made myself scarce. Once she was gone Ms. Heathe signaled the all clear and I made my egress. As I closed the door behind me I heard her laugh and I am certain it was nothing bad about me. I caught up with Stephanie later at work. She came in the fast food joint all unkempt and teary eyed. Her eye liner streaked down her cheeks, taking on the appearance of a clown that had been told he was getting too old for the carnival circuit. If, of course, said clown could be as perfect and beautiful as she was.
I wasted no time and offered her a soda. My treat, I told her. It didn’t cost me anything but that wasn’t important. I asked the shift leader if I could take my break early and after a few moments of pressing, he agreed. We talked for the full duration of my respite and the only thing that derailed my one way train to pure bliss beneath the sheets was the shift leader, Ronnie, he was jealous of me and any other guy that got lucky. She made for the door and stopped and looked back at me over her shoulder. She smiled and waved as she disappeared out the door. From that moment on I knew she was mine; star quarterback be damned.

So started the ephemeral albeit mutually blissful and memorable love affair and I for one don’t regret one iota of what happened. She would meet me in the Hardees parking. Her parents had set a plan in motion, at least in their mind, that Steph and the star quarterback were destined to wed. This was the kind of thing you’d expect back in the middle ages when Kings and Queens ran the show and wanted to keep the royal bloodline pure and free of taint. Taint it may have been but it was mine and she craved the shit out of it.

The evening before it all went to shit was beautiful and magical if you like those sorts of things. My car had broken down and I was forced to ride shotgun. Not that I minded her fancy upscale late model mustang but I was and still am fonder of vintage cars. There was something about them that attracted me and kept me coming back much like women do if I were to be completely honest. Women and cars have and will always go hand in hand. And if anyone said otherwise they were either a fool or gay or both.
We drove up to Shawnee Reservoir. It was just after sunset and the sky overhead was a blackish violet and a scattering of stars shone down upon us like tiny pinpricks of light. There were a few fishermen across the water from us. We had parked farther down the drive and had taken seats on the hood of her stang. She stared up at the starry sky as I kept my gaze focused on her. Then slowly we worked ourselves closer together until I held her in my arms.

A slight breeze gusted up rustling fallen leaves and pushed the marginal chill from the water from the lake but I felt warm in her embrace and I’m sure she was too. Our hearts beat fast and steady as we locked lips and kissed clearly audible over the rush of the water cascading down over the cement boundary. And one thing led to another and before long I had relieved her beautiful body of its burden of clothes and bra revealing her soft milky white skin and perky breasts. Her pretty little pink nipples were cold and stiff much like my cock. She glanced down and smiled and reached her free hand down to my crotch and groped my manhood. "That's a man-boner my dear," I told her as if I was experienced in this sort of shit.

We turned up the volume on the car radio and a familiar and edgy take on sex and love blared to life. The Doors Love Me Two Times fueled the already livid fire of sexual tension between the two of us and as sexual creatures we responded. And respond we did multiple times. Such euphoric and passionate collisions of flesh on flesh and steamy sweat flowed down the naked skin of our bodies like the river Nile. I never in a million, million years could have imagined such pleasure than I did that night. Her breasts flapped and her breath filled my ears and my nostrils and her scent further intoxicated me.

I was no longer in control of my actions. Some things come naturally to a man and a woman and sexual intercourse was chief amongst them. So after the deed was done and we took a breather and enjoyed a post coitus cigarette we talked. Nothing important or too serious came up as we didn’t want to ruin such a precious and memorable occasion. It was her idea not mine and I just went with the flow. Going with punches and all that was my motto and still is. And the punches soon were a coming, believe you me.

The morning after the big night, where everything changed and nothing could be avoided, it happened. The moment that I am referring to is what almost happened with Mrs. Heathe. Still to this day I have no idea how she found out. I mean I wasn’t about to tell her that I was so close to banging quite possibly the hottest teacher in the school. Not to mention it was unsavory to kiss and tell. Second, she, being Ms. Heathe, wouldn’t risk jeopardizing her job not to mention her freedom. But I found out she did and boy was she pissed. Well, to say she was pissed would’ve been an understatement. The worst thing about this whole situation was losing her. And by her I mean Steph.


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