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Dirty Little Secret
Looking back on the whole affair, several
hundred miles away, with rose-tinted
glasses...it could have been so much worse for
everyone. Really. I should be thankful she never
said a word. She really didn't have to the last
time we met, though. Looking back on it, it's a
lot like a hideous car wreck. You see it coming,
but you wonder what's going to happen even
though you know it's going to be bloody and
painful and probably kill you. Looking back, I
was selfish, wrong, flawed, and stupid. But
honestly? There are some parts I'd never change
for the world.
My mother had seven kids. Seven. I have six
brothers, all different from me, but still very
much the same. I'm the second-oldest, so it was
always my duty to look after the younger ones
when Sarafin wasn't around (i.e. pretty often).
I did an alright job of looking after them, I
think, but myself? Not so much. I really don't
remember my earliest years in America. I've been
a citizen for ages, so don't bitch to me about
immigration laws and that stuff. I was born an
entrepreneur and after trials, tribulations, The
Uncle fronted me the money to open our little
chain. I love it so much, it's like my own
child.
Not that I've ever had any others.
But I digress.
So here I am, managing my own place and doing
alright. I meet a pretty white lady and marry
her and her extensive family. She loves me even
though I'm defective and daft, and things are
alright. Her kids are so great and I love every
one of them. For a while, at least. I'm pretty
happy. Well, sort of. The root and sum of this
whole snafu started there. Marriage is
inevitable, and I thought maybe this could be
The One, and there'd be my next fifty years. She
wasn't perfect, and I'm not either. But it's
verbatim to the Rule of Dance:
"Women who love to dance always marry men who
hate to dance."
Only in my case, it would be...
"Men who love to screw always marry women who
have migraines."
So my wife has a headache. A constant headache,
which I constantly told her to get a physician
to look at. She gave me the Pissy Look and I
left it alone. This goes on for entirely too
long, and since home isn't as happy as it could
be, I throw myself at work.
And work kinda threw itself at me.
Customers are nice and the staff gets along
well. I love every one of the guys, they put
their all into what they do. That's why they got
the job. Then, one day, I took the time to talk
extensively with one of the more frequent and
faithful patrons: Officer Arion. He's incredibly
nice and is automatically respectable (for me,
at least) for being in law enforcement. He was
sitting with another man and a girl. The other
man was a businessman, but more of the
suit-and-tie type. He never struck me as one who
actually got his hands dirty. When I saw how he
treated the girl, I knew what kind of man he
was, and I didn't really care for him. But her?
Wow.
She looked older than her eighteen years, had
long dark hair, and expressive green eyes.
Gorgeous girl that was built like a goddess.
Seemingly proportioned perfect to her diminutive
size. Which wasn't so bad. When one is tall all
their life, things like size are a little biased
and everyone is smaller than you are.
I had to know more.
She was staring me down the whole time, sizing
me up. Judging. But shyly, she didn't want me to
notice it. Then again, I can understand her
shyness and always have. I always respected
that, even when it was inconvenient and
downright dangerous. She looked about decided,
so I introduced myself to her with a compliment,
trying to at least make her smile after her
father's crass behavior.
"So what's your name, bonita?"
She looked like she probably spoke that
language, I saw how she watched people's mouths
move and hers did too, like she was trying to
interpret for someone else.
She stuttered out her name and blushed
profusely, not wanting to look at my eyes.
That was alright, I had time.
She was a constant presence in the place. Always
flitting about, talking to others, and avoiding
me. She really took to that somehow. One night
when she was just there with Sarge, I pulled her
aside just to inquire to the nature of the
problem.
"What's wrong, miel? You're so standoffish. Did
I upset you the other night?"
She shook her head and attempted to speak, but
stuttering, backwards words came out. It was
kinda cute. I saw it was definitely going to be
me dominating the conversation.
"What's wrong?"
She looked pensive and stared at the wall behind
me, deathly trying to avoid my eyes.
"Please tell me if I upset you, but I have a
question."
...no response, just big, wide eyes set in
crimson cheeks.
"Do you like me, bonita?"
Her lip trembled and she nodded.
"Like how much? You don't have to answer if you
don't want to."
She looked puzzled and held up both hands.
Both...what the hell?
Ten? That makes sense, I think.
"Are you afraid of me?"
She made the so-so sign.
"What can I do to make you not-upset?"
Shrug.
"You can say anything, you know."
Silence. She looked like she was about to fall
down.
"...Do you..." I suddenly had an insane impulse.
Show her what you mean, stupid, my brain said.
Do something, act, show her how you feel.
So I did.
"You can make me stop whenever you want, but..."
I started.
I didn't really think before I acted, to say the
least. I stooped down a-ways and had my lips
against hers. It was just going to be that, I
promised myself.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU INSANE HUMAN BEING?!
said the other side of my brain.
I got more than a little carried away, I was
crushed against her and biting her lip before I
could tear myself away.
Cue a look of utter shock on her face as I pull
away.
"Are you alright?"
Nod.
"Are you offended?"
Shake.
"Do you want me to stop? Be honest."
...thought.
...blink-blink.
...tremble.
Shake.
It was my turn to be taken aback, she kissed me
back with a fervor I thought was long gone.
I should have known better than to have let it
go any father than that. I should have listened
to the other side of my head, hitting me with a
bat and reminding me of...of...everything! But
did I? No.
It went so much farther than that.
We ended up in the back room, hands all over
each other and sweat pouring down from the
stifling heat. No words were needed here, raw
feeling would suffice. She dropped to her knees
and began fidgeting with my belt.
Holy Christ, what had I gotten myself into?
When I returned to earth from my self-bashing
trip, my pants were already around my ankles and
she had already gotten to work. God, I was
painfully aroused by then anyway. I couldn't
even remember the last time my wife rendered me
such a service. She kissed me teasingly down the
length of my shaft, cutting her eyes up at me.
Almost daring me to object. I did nothing of the
sort, but leaned into the wall behind me and
gently pushed her head forward. That was all the
encouragement she needed, she inhaled deeply and
slid me all the way to the back of her throat.
Clearly she'd done this before.
"Oh....god, you're so good..." I wound my
fingers into her smooth hair, letting the
initial waves of pleasure wash over me.
She wasn't even trying all that hard, either.
All she had to do was run her tongue along the
underside of my cock and I'd be trembling in the
knees. She kept teasing me right to the edge and
then bringing me back for what seemed like
forever. Finally she deep-throat ed me one last
time and I couldn't hold back any longer. I let
out a deep, throaty moan and released everything
into her hot, inviting mouth. I gave it up,
slumping flat into the wall and letting go of my
death-grip on her hair. She looked up at me with
the sweetest, yet naughtiest smirk, and wiped
her bottom lip. That's got to be the sexiest
thing I've ever seen in my life.
I should have done a lot of things, but letting
her kiss me back was not one of them. Retrospect
is always 20/20.
To be honest, I expected her to run away
screaming. I figured she'd get away from me and
I'd lose interest. Neither happened. She began
showing up more and I was still looking. I
admit, I was afraid. I'd thought about...you
know...cheating before, but who hasn't? I didn't
actually think I'd go through with it, though.
But sure enough, there we were.
Amazingly, it was more than just killer head
once in a while. She really did open up to me
completely, and I know now that she fell in love
with me. Only problem with that was that it
killed our agreement early on not to get too
attached. Again, there we were. I fought like
hell but ended up falling for her too. It was
impossible to resist, she was just so beautiful.
Both as a person, and as far as looks go.
The ante was upped again in midsummer.
My shift was over and I was just about ready to
hit the road. I hadn't noticed her coming in,
but it was just Sarge's car out front. She found
me in the parking lot out back. She facilitated
this gigantic step, mind you. I just thought
about it, but I never thought I'd end up...hell,
I shouldn't have. But she wanted it so much I
couldn't refuse her. It's mostly a blur, but I
remember what counts.
"I want this," she breathed into my neck. "But
I'm afraid, I'm a virgin..."
I stroked her hair and lied again.
"I won't hurt you, I promise."
What was I supposed to say? I ran my hands under
her shirt, feeling nothing but heated skin and
sharp little nipples.
"Are you sure you want this?" I wanted to be
absolutely certain before we did things we might
regret.
She knew she could tell me to stop at any time
and I would. I wouldn't like it, but I'd stop.
She was sure of it. Surer than I was, for a
change. So it happened.
It tore me apart to have to hurt her, but she
never backed down. I raised her skirt and
slipped her flimsy panties down her legs and
off, pitching them in the floorboard. I quickly
fumbled myself out of my pants, leaving one hand
to tease her moist slit enough to comfortably
fit. I lowered myself farther down, kissing her
roughly and pushing in slowly as I could. She
clawed into my back to keep from crying, but she
didn't back down. Her blood dripped down with
the rest of her juices, and I have to admit it
turned me on a little. I slid deeper into her,
finding it hard to keep control of myself. My
wide girth can't have helped the hurt much--but
I knew she'd appreciate it later on. Having
passed the worst part, I sped up some, feeling
her walls loosen up slightly to accommodate me.
It was beyond ecstasy for me; she was my first
virgin and she was tighter than anything I'd
ever experienced before. I felt a little
horrible, since I'm certain it wasn't as good
for her. God, it had been SO long. As much as I
wanted her to get something out of it, time just
wasn't on our side. That, and I didn't last too
long. Two long, celibate years can do that to
you. I came entirely too fast, and sorry to
leave the warmth of her tight cunt. However, I
made time to clean her up and just hold her for
a while. Her nerves were shattered. Before I
left, she slipped a house-key in my pocket.
There were days I'd drop by and see her. Her dad
left her all alone in the house, so I had to do
some manly chores sometimes. Plumbing, fixing
doors, changing lights...that type of thing. And
of course we fucked. Often. I was thankful the
pain stopped after about the third time. It
still killed me to know she was hurting. The
heat was unbearable in her little room, but not
as unbearable as the tension between us. There
were times I gave up fighting it. I dropped her
on the bed and dove between her thighs, aching
to feel my cock, my fingers...anything inside
her. Her slit was like hot velvet and I honestly
couldn't have quit it if I'd wanted to. Nothing
could beat the satisfaction of feeling her
tighten around me in every sense of the word,
and completely release. She was the first woman
to let me come inside her. It didn't bother her
at all. Hell, I think she enjoyed it more than I
did. We never had to worry about her getting "in
trouble". I mean, there's a reason I never
contributed any kids to my marriage.
But we started to drift apart.
I was needed increasingly more around my house,
and wasn't working nearly as often. That put an
enormous strain on our relationship. For both
our sakes, we couldn't be found out. She was far
beyond upset when I got transferred as well. We
actually started to fight. I didn't want to lose
her, but I simply couldn't function the way she
needed me.
Something had to be done, but what?
One day I finally managed to get by her place.
She wouldn't touch me. She didn't want me to
make love to her or anything until we worked out
this problem.
"I'm trying. I really am." I was impatient, but
I had no right.
"I realize I'm lower on the list, " she said,
and I thought I might have seen tears plip down
her cheek.
"...but if you want to keep me around, you can't
just let me GO like this."
Until now she'd been horribly cold. Trying her
best to be bitter and aloof, but for the first
time I realized she couldn't make herself do it,
no more than I could keep being angry and
frustrated with her. She crawled up behind me on
her bed and wrapped her arms around me, crushing
her cheek into my neck.
"I'm sorry. I should be stronger than this."
What could I say? That was true to an extent.
She knew up front that she would always be
second. She knew that this might happen, that I
might get my hands full with the family I
already had. But she was human.
A delicate little human that needed me.
It didn't occur to me until now, but I needed
her just as much.
I know it sounds terrible, me falling in love
with this girl when I already have a wife and
all...but it's different. Bonita had a sort of
passion, a sort of fire about her that my own
wife hadn't shown me in years. I could tell she
loved me, I could read her like a large-print
dictionary. When I held her, I could feel her
completely swooning and off on cloud nine.
Right now was one of those times.
"We can make this work," I meant it, too.
I turned around and gathered her into my lap.
For a long while, we didn't speak. Just felt,
just enjoyed each other's warmth and presence. I
flumped back onto the bed, taking her with me.
"What are we going to do, baby?" she whimpered.
She was near tears, if not already there.
"We'll figure something out. She can go to her
job and take the kids, and...and...I'll stay
here and run the place. That way, we can keep
our house and the restaurant, and I can keep
you." It seemed reasonable enough.
"You don't love me as much as you do her."
It wasn't really a statement to hurt me, but...I
guess she was just reminding herself out loud.
I honestly don't know if she was right or not.
I was rearranging my life for her, really.
"So are we back to good?" she spoke to my
stomach.
"I think so. I don't know, I just don't want to
fight anymore."
I kissed her neck and made her sit up. This
required some kind of celebration.
Hell, we celebrated so much the cross above her
bed dropped clear off the wall.
People love me because I'm a stand-up guy. I
always keep my promises, especially ones to
beautiful girls. Yes, I give off the best image,
the Incorruptible, sometimes. But no one ever
saw this. No one ever got to see the spot of
dirt on my white linoleum floor. No one ever
knew about that one smirch on my otherwise
spotless character. The way she felt inside,
that wet, hot burn...the incredibly impure
thoughts I had almost every waking minute...the
temptation to just stand on a table and scream,
"Hey! Guess what? I'm fucking the salesman's
daughter and she's the best lay on the face of
the earth!" I wanted to do that so much, but
never did. I kept my dirty little secret, and
sin never tasted so sweet.
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