Mister GabeChapter 2
- 4 years ago
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Mister Boggles Gets A Cell Phone free porn video
For a very long time, Hector Boggles only used the pay phone in the hallway of his apartment building. When he was working, which seems like a long time ago now, he liked to use the phones in the big red booths on street corners. It seemed like those days were disappearing very fast. Nowadays the best way to call people on the phone was to have a cell phone or a "mobile" as young people were fond of saying.
Now that he was declared redundant and unemployed, he liked to classify himself as "retired" to avoid the onus of being without verifiable employment. It was quite embarrassing for him but he did his best to muddle through and find something to occupy his mind and his hands. The self-help scheme at the council office had issued him a cell phone to assist him in locating and securing gainful employment. He was given a number of minutes he could use each week and he tried his best to use it only for the purpose of finding a job because he was not one to abuse the system.
In the past few days, he had received several incoming calls and confusing "Text" messages from a "Doris" person who was irate at him for not returning her calls. The only other calls he had received on the thing were a series of "autodialed" scanning messages about buying insurance or arranging for funeral services. He merely wrote their numbers down in his little notebook and erased them from the mobile data bank even though he had heard you could never really delete the core contact from the memory file.
He saw the light go on and picked up the small device to see that Doris had sent him another text message.
"U SHT Y U NO CALL!"
Horace was able to gist the contents of the strange communication to mean the Doris person was upset over the fact he had not returned her calls and wanted an answer immediately. He was in a quandary as to simply ignore it even though that didn't seem to be working or to answer it and explain he was just a random "wrong number".
His brain told him that it was probably a mistake but his gut made him pick up the phone and hit the little button that activated his mobile for a reply to the number furnished by Doris as her cell number.
Before he had even a chance to say a single word of greeting, his ear was blasted by a shrill female voice shouting into her phone.
"Gregory, I have had enough of your shit. Just because you got my pussy for free and even my bum-hole, it doesn't mean you can take me for granted. If you want any more of my cunt you better get your sorry ass down here at McGregor's Pub and stand ready to kiss mine before you get even a smile from me."
The click on the line meant that the unknown Doris with the already given-up slit and tiny pucker hole had hung-up on him before he had an opportunity to advise he was most definitely not "Gregory". His brain was sorting out visual pictures of the upset Doris with her legs wide open guiding his mostly ignored cock into her vaginal channel with her mouth open and her tongue exposed to his ogling stare. He paused for a moment to drink that all in and then went on to see her now on her tummy waiting for him to slowly push his business into her fluttering star in a depraved display of unnatural inclinations. He could almost feel the tightness of her rim stretching to allow him entry.
In a strange quirk of fate, he knew exactly where McGregor's Pub was located because he had spent some time there with his ex-girlfriend Sheila soaking up the atmosphere and the beer. She had been a pretty good sport about letting him do her in out of the way places like hallways and parked cars but they had never actually done it on a real bed and he surmised it was because in her mind it wasn't really sex until both feet were off the floor in bed. They had broken up because she had informed him with a hard unsmiling look that,
"You are the most sexually immature person I have ever met!"
He found out later that she had been making physical comparisons to a married man with four children who had promised her he would leave his wife if she only gave him what he wanted. Apparently, she gave him that and then some because it was shortly after that she came down pregnant. Horace was certain it was not his because he had gotten a vasectomy at her demand stating she didn't want to take any risk with pills.
Thus it was that the already balding, slightly overweight Horace Boggles found himself at the entrance of McGregor's Pub later that evening hesitating at entering because he had absolutely no idea what Doris looked like and he had a deep-seated fear that his ex-girlfriend might be inside waiting to ridicule his lack of employment.
A pair of staggering tarts tried to push past him giving him the finger like they actually knew who he was but he was not upset because they seemed a happy sort and more concerned with each other than any stray dick wandering around in front of booze distribution centers.
The place was filled to the rafters and the crowd was well lubricated even though it was fairly early in the evening. He noticed that there were a lot more females than males than he remembered from past excursions but put that down to the fact that the pub was located near office buildings that employed mostly female staff for administrative duties. There was a big bouncy blonde at the bar holding court with a bevy of pussy-hunting young lads checking their pockets for more cash to buy her drinks. It looked like she was a Queen Bee surrounded by a boring horde of drones desperate for her honey. He knew it was going to be a long night when one of them called her, "Doris" and lit her cigarette like she was the Queen of Sheba.
The blonde with the huge tits was the sort of female that Horace usually tried to avoid because they always made him feel insecure and unsure of his ability to manage a suitable erection to satisfy their needs. He was dreadfully fearful of the verbal scorn they could call up to put him in his place if he even got up the nerve to address them directly. Still, he had come to McGregor's pub with the express intent of informing this Doris person that he was a "wrong number" and would she kindly refrain from calling his number in the future. It all seemed a bit foolish now and he had to admit it was a silly reason for entering a pub and approaching a popular bit of fluff like some stalking suitor.
Perhaps his ex-girlfriend was right in calling him "sexually immature" because he only did it in the missionary position and seldom did more than open up his trousers and expose only his unimpressive shaft to view. He had never actually seen her naked and would probably have been embarrassed if he did. That was really an overwhelming indictment for a man of forty with no prospects and no girlfriend. The only thing he had going for him was the fat trust fund his grandmother had left for him in her will. The income was sufficiently high enough to make employment unnecessary but he needed the stability of a job to make him feel like he was a productive member of society and contributing to the common good.
Avriella
- 14.06.2020
- 6
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