The Masked Scorpio
- 4 years ago
- 38
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I don’t know when I started to like her. Or why. I remember when I met her. I had seen her before. She was a cute girl walking around. I saw cute girls all the time. So, I wasn’t interested. Not really. At the time, I had other things to deal with. I was a young black man in college. It had just begun to dawn on me that I might be ‘different’ and I wasn’t okay with that. I was born and raised in a Christian household and I was a tall, somewhat good-looking, big and tall black man.
I came to college and there were so many cuties around. White girls. Black girls. Latin girls. Haitians. Jamaicans. Puerto Ricans. Cape Verdeans. African-americans. Indians. Asians. So many hot babes a guy could get dizzy. And when you’re me, more than one will give you the eye in a day.
So, I was walking around, minding my own business when I saw this mofo. His name was Hank. He was a tall, somewhat chubby white guy. He was also a flamboyant homosexual. Hank was always surrounded by a bunch of girls and he acted in an overly effeminate manner. I didn’t hate gays or anything but I was no big fan of the fem guys. Back in those days, I had a lot to learn. I saw Hank and the sight of him immediately pissed me off. There he was, the fem guy. The flamejob.
The asshole who made it a point to annoy people and you couldn’t do anything about it because he would accuse you of being homophobic and the school had a strict no-discrimination policy. It’s times like these that I hate America. The land of the free had become a playground for a bunch of fools. It seemed playing victim was the way to go in America. Black people did it. They were always blaming all their problems on the white majority. Racist hillbillies from the heartland blamed their problems on blacks and liberals. Women blamed their problems on men. We lived in a culture where male-bashing was extremely practiced and tolerated. It was all ‘ men this’ and ‘men that.’
Don’t get me wrong, men did their share of bad things but women were unwilling to take responsibility for anything. They always appeared as victims. If a woman killed her husband, somehow she was seen as the victim in all this. Geez. Women in America liked to hit their husbands and then call the cops on him and make phony accusations. The Courts always sided with the woman. I found all this extremely unfair. The Feminist movement started out wanting to promote equal rights for women but these days they were doing more harm than good. They were breaking up families. If someone falsely accused you of something terrible and got you locked up, why would you stay with that person? Geez. Often, women didn’t make sense to me. I respected women. But I can’t say that I trusted them. I’m sorry. I didn’t consider ‘playing victim’ to be empowering. I think the current feminist groups are hurting women.
In an ideal world, men and women should be equal. There are shelters for battered women. Well, men get battered too. There should be shelters for battered men. But there aren’t. Men are always seen as the bad guys in any situation involving a woman. When people talked to me about marrying a woman, I looked at them like they were crazy. Why marry a woman? At any given time she can call the cops and accuse me of some shit I didn’ t even do, take my house and kids from me and divorce me. She will go to Court, play victim and get the kids plus half of what I got. Marriage? No thank you. Slavery was abolished in the 1860s.
So this was my mindset.
I walk down the street and I see men and I don’t have a problem with them. I don’t have a problem with women either. But too often they play victim in order to have their way. Sheesh. I mean, a lot of women will falsely accuse a man of anything from assault to sexual abuse and the courts, judges and prosecutors seem unaware of it. Innocent men get sent to jail all the time. That’s why I take all news with a grain of salt. False accusations can and do get made. I am tall and cute but when a cute girl approaches me (that happens fairly often) I can’t help but wonder about what she is. Is she a good person or not? Does she want my money? Is she a Misandrist who will make a false accusation against me? Or a man-hating psychopath? Those are the thoughts that go through my skull.
It’s sad the world in which we live. At some point, the abuse I saw men endure in America got me to feel a special kinship with all men. We are suffering in this country. All men. Whether gay, bisexual or straight. Black, white, Asian, Latino or biracial. I read articles online about battered men. I read about the hidden side of domestic violence. I grew to respect my fellow man. I respected all men. I didn’t care about their backgrounds or sexual orientation or anything of the sort. I still respected women, though. There are a lot of women in America who hate men. Some men deserve it. Most don’t.
If most men were hate-filed, this world would be far worse. I see the good things women did. Raising children by themselves. Taking care of others. Going into the military to fight side by side (instead of against) their men. I respected women. A woman who truly wants equality for women and men would encourage the law to be fair to both. Such a woman would be held in high esteem in my view. But the hate-filled misandrists don’t belong on earth. They belong in someplace hotter and darker…where demons roam.
Back to the tale…
I was walking down the street near the school when I saw Hank, the annoying gay guy. He blew a kiss at me and almost made me feel physically ill. I walked away quickly. I went to the store and bought some chocolate to eat. When I came back to school, Hank was gone along with his faghag Jennifer. I was distraught. Hank made me feel very uncomfortable. More than once he touched me and I hated it. I felt unclean. So, here I am. Just walking around, talking to myself.
‘I’m gonna kill this fag.’
I see this girl walking. She was kind of pretty. Dark brown hair pulled into a bun. Pale pink skin with a hint of bronze. Beautiful brown eyes.
‘Hi.’ I said. ‘ Hello.’ she said.
She extended her hand. I shook it. She had a firm handshake.
‘I’m Lauren.’ she said.
I told her my name.
‘Has anyone ever pissed you off so bad?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘ Was there a fight?’
I looked at her. ‘ No.’ I said.
By nature, I am not violent. I started telling her about Hank pissing me off. I was really distraught. Telling some girl I didn’t know about some gay dude who was harassing me. Basically I was telling a girl my secrets. That’s not something I ever do. We arrived at the school.
‘See you later, Lauren.’
I said. ‘Bye.’ she said. I went back out. My classes hadn’t started yet. I saw my friend John Frank and we walked together.
‘What’s up?’ he asked.
‘Nothing, man.’ I said.
John Frank was a tall black dude. Like myself. We talked and stuff. He was a cool intellectual like me. We went to eat at BK. The next day, we went to the school library. There, surprise surprise I saw Lauren. Apparently, she was the librarian’s assistant or something.
‘Hello.’ I said.
We started talking and that day, I learned a lot about her. She was a real cool girl from a town only a couple of hours away from Boston. A rather historically oriented kind of place. This was the beginning of a remarkable friendship. She epitomized everything that I liked in a human being, whether male or female. I would grow to respect her as a human being, as a woman and as one of my fellow college students. She was real bright, easy on the eyes and had that assertive yet not bitchy thing going on that you only see women show in movies.
Later, I would learn who and what she truly was. I am what I am. A black person. A male. A bisexually inclined individual when it comes to the sexual spectrum. I have my secrets and I guard them closely. No one knows who or what I am. Not even my family
. When it comes to lies and deceit, I am rather adaptable. I don’t like lying but mine are good and believable. As for my behavior, the ultimate in straight acting.
I thought I was ‘ da shit’ as black teenagers say. I was nothing compared to Lauren. She could teach Judas Iscariot about lies, deception and betrayal. That’s a story for another time.
To be continued…
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David was just finishing up with the day's last customer when Bobbi Foxx asked him to lock the front door and then come into her office!!! "All done," he said while knocking on the door jam to her office!!! "Come on in, David," I'll be with you in a moment, I'm just finishing up totaling up the day's receipts!!!" "Take your time," he said easily while taking a chair, "business has been pretty good, hasn't it!?!" "Yes it has," she said, "how long have you been working for me, David!?!" "Uh,...
FetishShe, Shaina, around 32, was extremely beautiful, healthy enviable figure ripe at every part of her body. But was not happy in life. It was exactly 8 years ago she got married to an engineer, selected by her parents. He was good looking, educated and was employed in a public sector company getting near five figure salary. My parents were very happy and she also felt same and why not? Her dreams were shattered just after marriage. On the first night she was very excited and had listened to her...
"My God, you're not an easy one to break," he said. thud "Ow, fuck. No, I'm not. So what? Fuck. Fuck you, fucker." "Fuck? Is that an invitation? To a fucker like me, that is?" thud "Ow. No. No. Not at all. Look, let me down." "Why should I? You ready to suck my dick like I asked, you're saying?" thud "No, ow, fuck. No, asshole. I mean, it's not safe. My arms up like this, for this long. Use your head. The ugly one, on your neck, I mean." thud "Ow, jeezus fuck. That...
This time it's not soft. There is nothing sweet about how you're looking at me, the way we're kissing, or what's going through my head. There's a breathless quality to your words when you whisper, "Take this off."You tug at my t-shirt and I smile against your lips, "Just a minute." I reach down and peel the fabric off as I feel your hands on my stomach, "Shit," I gasp, "your hands are cold.""Mhmm," you mumble against my throat, "your body is hot."I reach down and undo the first few buttons of...
My ex girlfriend was an absolute cum slut. She was eleven years younger than me, thirty-five years old when I was forty-six. Our sex life was hot and amazing from day one and continued right to the end of our relationship thirteen years later. Her ex-husband had her beaten down pretty bad when I met her. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally, which can be worse; scars and bruises heal, words hurt forever. I opened her up to a whole new lifestyle, gave her confidence, convinced her she...
Wife LoversI had a lot of fun when I was a k**. Not all boys get to wonder around the house in a bra and panties anytime thay want. Mom was real good letting me explore my sexuality. And I took full advantage of it, I think my cock was hard twentyfour hours a day after that first time she caught me playing with myself and told me it was allright and I could do it anytime I wanted to. The first few times felt strange but really turned me on so I got comfortable real quick. We would be sitting in the...
He grabbed my arm pulling me inside and closed the door. I was scared as fuck. We looked into each others eyes and he kisses me. He held my arms tight as we kissed. My hands found his growing cock, I stroked him a couple times and he let my arms go. I slid down his chiseled body until I was face to cock with him. I sucked the head in my wet willing mouth and tongued him good until he was wet. Slowly I slide my painted lips down his shaft, all 8 1/2 inches were in my throat. Glenn couldn't...
It was bitterly cold as I left the concert hall, the still air was heavy with the frost that was just beginning to form. I walked along through the quiet streets and around me the pubs and the clubs were still full of people celebrating Christmas early. It would not be long before the revellers were slowly but forcibly disgorged into the night to make their merry way home. I hate the city at night and I wanted nothing more than to reach my parked car and head out of town for home. I wanted to...
It was early August of 1977. I was friends with the daughter of the local new car dealer. She had graduated from high school in June. Kelly and I were going to be seniors in the fall, but I had hung out with a number of people in the Class of ’77.Jenny lived in pretty nice digs. Large house, inground pool, four-car attached garage. Jenny threw a big party, mostly because she and many of her classmates were soon leaving town for college.The party started mid-afternoon. It was a most enjoyable...
Teen