SuzanneChapter 2 free porn video
I was dead serious when I wanted to stop Jewel, but she was making it harder, in more ways than one.
"Haven't you ever thought about my soft red lips around your dick, Siggy? My mouth is so hot and warm and I've never had a complaint about my blow-jobs and I never make a mess. I'll swallow all you have to give.
Suzie will never know and we can both fulfill a fantasy." Jewel Marie was whispering in my ear to my weakening constitution.
I was pretty needy at the time and looked forward to getting off with Suzanne later, but Jewel was very convincing as my arms went from pushing her away to sliding around behind her.
"Do you really want me to get away Sig, or do you want me to just move..." she said as she began to slink, "Down here."
Before I had a chance to rationally think it out, Jewel Marie was squatting in front of me, her tube top peeled down to show her bare breasts, and her looking up at me with pouty lips as she fumbled with the rest of pulling down my zipper.
"Oh God, Jewel. You are so fucking bad. Such a fucking whore." I said, giving in.
"I know and you love it too. Relax and enjoy this, I know I am." She said as she engulfed my now exposed cock with her mouth.
She wasn't kidding when she said she never had a complaint, as I could see why. She sucked me like a pro. She knew how to do it and get it over fast as well. Her milking fingers and sucking mouth had me on the verge in a few minutes. As corny as it sounds I really was thinking of Suzanne as it was all happening. It was only fitting that I was thinking of Suzanne, because she was just walking in the door, probably totally expecting to collect her $100 and me.
Her eyes blazed at the sight of her friend sucking my cock.
"You fucking bastard!! I trusted you, you fucking son of a bitch. You worthless piece of shit." She railed at me as she grabbed anything in sight and threw it at me, us.
"Get out, get out, you fuck!!" she screamed as she began to flail away at me, my wet dick still waving in the air.
"Wait Suzanne, wait, I can explain." I hollered as I tried to contain her, but she could not be stopped.
Jewel Marie had slinked off to the side and I really don't know if she was to be the target of any of Suzanne's wrath.
"Explain what?, you cheating piece of shit." She demanded with arms at her hips staring at me through her teared and fiery eyes, almost nose to nose with me.
Before I could get one word out she slapped with all the fury any woman could muster. I almost fell to the floor. She stormed out the door shouting for me to never see her again.
Jewel was embarrassed, apparently not knowing how much her mischief was going to affect our relationship.
"Sig, give her a couple hours and she'll be OK. She put me up to it. It was a bet. She didn't think you would go for it. She thought she knew you that well."
"Thanks for fucking using me, Jewel, you fucking whore." I shouted at her as I left for Suzanne's apartment.
I decided to wait for a little while to go to Suzanne's place, wanting time to ice my face and cool the sting of her slap (I carried a hand mark for a whole day). When I finally got there Colleen met me at the door. "I can't let you in Sig, she's pretty pissed, but, she says to come by after classes tomorrow. I'm going to my sisters in Providence for the weekend, you two will be alone, OK?"
It all sounded reasonable so I went along with it. The next day around 5:30 after my classes, I went knocking at her door with my tail between my legs. I was prepared to do all the penance she could offer. There was no answer. I tried my key for her door; it didn't work. I went to the corner Chinese take-out and called, their number was disconnected.
I spent the rest of the weekend sulking around, going to check to see if she had returned home or not, checking with Jewel and Yoffie if they had heard from her. No one had.
Monday morning I waited at her corner for her to go to class, but Colleen was alone.
"Where's Suzanne?" I asked. Colleen looked at the ground and then hesitantly to me.
"She's gone home, Sig. All packed up on Thursday night, she moved home on Friday. I'm sorry. I don't know what you did, but it must have been pretty bad."
I was in shock. I skipped my first class and ran to my apartment to call her there. Her mother answered; "Oh Hi Sig. I'm sorry but Suzanne is not here, and won't be anytime soon. She's transferring to a school out west, just outside Chicago. She and her brother left with a trailer full of stuff yesterday. She said you did something horrible Sig, but wouldn't talk about it. You hurt her awful Sig. I don't know what to tell you."
Part of me wanted to leave and go find her. $15,000 a year for BU told me to stay and finish the semester and see her at home for Christmas to straighten out the mess.
Little by little I found where she was going to school through searches in the library. A woman with her name, at least, was going to The Chicago School of Professional Psychology. I had never heard of it but I did find that a psych major could transfer credits from NorthEastern there. I sent 2 letters there and had them returned with an endorsement with a new address for Illinois Wesleyan University. For the next 3 weeks I wrote everyday to her, telling her that at Christmas we could find time to heal and I could show her I had learned a powerful lesson about love and trust.
When I got home for Christmas I called her home and her Mom told me to come right over. I was so happy that we could at least talk it all over.
Upon getting there her Mom came to the door with a package, brightly wrapped for Christmas. "Suzanne is spending Christmas in Nebraska with her Grandmother. She sent this package for you and asked that you wait until Christmas morning to open it." Her mother instructed. I was encouraged and intrigued by the gift and the lack of an abrupt message.
I called Yoffie to ask her for the address of Suzanne's grandmother and she told me that Suzanne had asked her not to give it to me. Yoffie cried when she told me, telling me that she was torn between two good friends. I put the gift under my bed and waited until Christmas morning to open it. Before I went downstairs to be with my family on Christmas morning I opened the box. In it were 16 letters I had written, unopened, each endorsed with black Magic Marker, RETURN TO SHITHEAD.
I was devastated and spent the rest of the Holiday vacation looking forward to going back to Boston to be with the BU Hockey team on the road. I got back 10 days before the rest of the students and spent my time with my intern duties. We made a couple road trips to keep my mind off things. Even so, I spent all my free time moping.
Jewel Marie's family just lived in Leominster and I looked them up to go and visit her to talk. I made a date to meet her and go out and talk.
When I got there, Jewel Marie had cancelled, having her sister tell me the news. She either had a better offer, or she couldn't face me.
Her sister, Dawn Marie was aware of the whole story and apologized for her sister; "I'm sorry she's such a whore sometimes. She's really a nice person."
It was nice of her to stick up for her sister, and I agreed with her on both counts. Dawn had me in to talk, and she told me everything she knew of the situation. By the end of the afternoon, I had made a date with her to go to a Hockey game with me, and then a movie and then, on the rebound, I married Dawn Marie a year after graduation.
The first day of summer, 2001, 12 years later.
I was back home in Upstate New York. It was 11 years since Dawn Marie and I were married, 3 years since the divorce. Luckily we never had any children.
We just grew apart, something we both came to realize after the first 6 years. We hung on to try and make it work, but there was no magic left.
I gave her my car, I kept the payment book, and we sold the house and split it down the middle. There was a couple hundred thousand in equity from the whole marraige that we could split once all was said and done.
I was 34 years old, pretty successful, making good money, now with the State of New York. But, I was unhappy that my love life was dead, with no prospects. I had been with 5 women in my life. Shelly, a high school sweetheart who I shared a backseat and blanket with my senior year, Yoffie, whom I got too drunk with one night, while we compared sex notes, Suzanne, who I loved more than anything in the world, Jewel Marie, whom I never got beyond "almost" having my orgasm in her mouth, and Dawn Marie, who was the sweetest and best friend I had for a long time.
Unfortunately, she rarely enjoyed vaginal sex, found it painful most times, but went out of her way to make me happy other ways.
I walked for exercise each day the weather permitted. The Office campus at Albany sprawled over almost a square mile. A walk from my building to the Service station/deli/convenience store on the outer edge of the campus took about 45 minutes, back and forth. My boring lunch of a dry vegetarian wrap each day kept my weight down and the walk helped to shrink it a bit more. It was a tedious daily grind, but for the first time in a long time, I felt good and slept good, usually after masturbating thinking about one of my few conquests, usually Suzanne.
This first day of summer hardly felt like summer, just 65 degrees, but the bright sunshine made it look the part. I had just got my wrap from the counter and waited in line to pay. I stood nervously checking my watch for the time. I would carry my lunch all the way back to my desk today, I had calls to make to fill my hour. If the line were any longer, the hour would be gone, not that I had to report in or out, but for what I was paid, I didn't want to abuse my time.
I just pocketed my change and went out the door; saw the walk light on the avenue had just lit. I was about to start a skip step to make a safe crossing and begin my brisk walk back, when a hand touched my elbow.
"Sig?" a voice whispered as I turned to see who beckoned me.
There for the first time since THAT night in Boston, I saw the face of Suzanne. A little older, but still real pretty, her beautiful red hair was now dyed black, but she was unmistakable.
I tried to make words come from my mouth but my tongue denied me. My usual bugaboo of not knowing a good first line, and shock, combined to stifle my thought processes.
"Sig, you remember me, don't you?" Suzanne said.
I was down for the count. No words could come from my mouth. It was as if I were punched in the stomach. I could barely draw a breath. I turned and walked; no - I half ran, to make the light before traffic started.
My mind raced. Was it really her, did I just imagine what just happened, why didn't I speak, why couldn't I speak?
When I got back to the office I was out of breath, having walked as fast as I ever had. I was sweating profusely and breathing hard. I tried to calm down and eat, but I could barely swallow. A moment later I was heaving what I did have in my stomach into the waste can.
My secretary, Joanne, had just got back from lunch herself and saw me, red and sweating, throwing up.
"Mr. Grayson, are you OK? Are you having chest pains? I know CPR and you look like you're having a heart attack. Are you OK?" she asked frantically.
I couldn't speak and waved my arms. Joanne panicked and called 911, and then came into the room and coaxed me to lie on my office floor. I didn't know, maybe I was having a heart attack.
Thirty minutes later, EMT's were carrying me out of my building on the way to the hospital. I was checked out there and sent home; being told that I didn't have an attack, possibly just a nervous anxiety attack.
They gave me a sedative and Joanne brought me home.
I missed work Friday and Saturday, but kept in touch with Joanne and worked from home on my computer. State budgetary issues that I had to work on with my staff were due soon and I had to get back as we all were working 6 days. I returned to work on Monday not knowing if I should go for my usual walk and lunch or not. God, I wanted so to see Suzanne, but apparently something inside me told me to reject her. She had flushed me from her life so totally, made me as if I never existed; maybe my own psyche had erased something from my memory. Had I been mistaken, maybe it wasn't Suzanne who called my name outside the store. Was it Yoffie, Jewel Marie or any other female friend I hadn't seen in a long time? Did I really remember what Suzanne looked like?
Intrigued, I took my regular walk to the store and got my usual lunch. I got in line and paid as always and went outside to wait for the walk light.
Ahhh, all was fine and back to normal. My regular walk route follows the access roads to a point before the walk turns toward my building. Along the road are sheltered bus stops, and as I approached one, I saw the same black haired lady stand up and begin to stand in my path. If it were Suzanne, she was about 20 pounds heavier than the sleek bodied beauty I knew. This woman carried the extra weight all in her belly and butt. If she told me she was 4 months pregnant, I would accept that as true, but she wasn't.
I began to walk to the side to pass her by and she stepped in my way.
"Sig, do you hate me that much? You can't even talk for a minute? You must remember me! It's Suzanne." She said.
I was struck once again, I really wanted to run, but my good conscience told me to stay and be a man. I struggled to make words pass over my tongue.
"Hi, you look different. I really have to get back to work. Umm, nice seeing you." I said as I began to rush away.
"GODDAMN IT SIG, I don't accept this!!" She shouted and then chased after me.
She caught me and held my arm tightly.
"The last time I touched you was with the full force of my hand across your face. You deserved it, but I deserved the same for setting you up!
If you had slapped me back I might have realized that then, but you didn't.
It took me 7 years to realize that, and I knew it was too late then, but I want YOU to know it now. If this is the last thing I ever get to say to you, fine. It was something I promised myself I had to do. That is, to tell you I was wrong and I know I, WE, threw away something real special that only certain people have the privilege of knowing and feeling. GOODBYE!!" She said as she threw my arm back at me and stormed away, obviously crying.
All of the blood in my body ran to my feet, then to my head and then to my chest. I was freaking out. I wanted to reach out to someone, and the one I needed to reach out to was walking away from me.
"Suzanne, SuzANNE, SUZANNE!!" I finally shouted, mustering all the strength I had.
She stopped in her tracks and turned. Behind all the tears, a couple wrinkles, and all that awful black hair, stood the one woman whom I truly loved through and through all my life, Suzanne.
We slowly walked to each other and embraced and hugged.
"We were both pretty stupid that night." I said. "I took all of the blame for the longest time until I came to realize that you had made a wager on our love. That was wrong."
"I know, I was Judas, and it took me 7 years to understand that. I am so, so sorry." She cried to me.
We sat in the bus shelter and rehashed much of the past almost 12 years.
She was married and living locally and happened to see me one day while pumping gas where I bought my lunch. She saw me again and noticed the time and watched for me, finally getting the nerve to approach me one day. She was afraid that I hated her, which was the reason she stalked me today. She said she couldn't live with that.
We continued to meet from time to time for a lunch at the bus shelter.
She would call in the morning and ask me to get her the same lunch as I got. When I returned and passed the shelter, she was there. I had no intentions of starting up with her again, she was a married woman and cheating had already ruined my life once. It was just great to have a friend who knew me so well, who I could talk with about everything. By September we talked at length of State politics and my role in the budget process and the problems the State faced. She was still smart as anything and on top of all the things around her. We were to meet on September 11 but obviously, neither of us showed up. It was the first time she called me at home, that night. We cried together, and then I heard another person enter the room she was talking from, and she quickly hung up.
I realized that I did not know her new name, her number or where she lived.
In a few days we were back to our regimen, now 3 times a week, a half hour talking and discussing current events, politics and the like, sometimes mentioning she had heard from an old mutual friend.
"What do you think of the possibility of bombing in Afghanistan", I asked her one day.
"I haven't had sex in 3 years with my husband and I don't know why I am staying with him. He cheats on me to pay back for catching me cheating on him. I wanted to die until the day I saw you and now I masturbate every day thinking of you and I in Boston."
I was dumb struck!
"Suzanne? Can you explain that a little more plainly? I feel like you just bombed ME." I said.
Suzanne started crying profusely and it took 5 or 10 minutes to calm her down. I phoned Joanne and told her to hold my calls, I had a small emergency come up and may not return from lunch.
Once calmed, she asked me listen and not talk or judge. She wanted to clear her conscience.
"My marriage was not always the best, but I was happy for the most part, early on. We had a baby girl that we named Sonja and all seemed fine with the world. We lost Sonja to leukemia when she was 4 and a parent never gets over losing a child. My husband started paying less and less attention to me, but I really didn't care at the time. Things got worse and he told me to change my hair color to give me a new look. He wanted it black and right after I changed it our sex life got wild again. I told him I was pregnant again and we were happy. Three months into the pregnancy, I lost the baby. He began to act as if I didn't exist. He had sex with me on Saturday nights, screwing the daylights out of me from behind; he didn't want to look at me. I couldn't believe I had become that unattractive. A fellow I worked with at the mall, reminded me a lot of you. He flirted with me a lot. I screwed him in his van one night in the parking lot at the mall. He showed up the next morning after my husband had left for work and wanted me to go again. Feeling unloved for so long, we screwed like rabbits on the sofa, until Paul, my husband, came in the front door. He and my lover fought briefly and finally I was left alone with Paul. I thought he was going to kill me at first, but he just shouted at me, calling me names, and promising me that he would never touch me again until I proved I deserved him. I don't know what I was supposed to do to prove that, but apparently I never did it. We've lived in the same house, the same bed for the past 3 years like this. He says goodbye in the morning, kisses me hello when he gets home. Some nights he goes out and comes home smelling of perfume, and I find stains in his shorts when I do the laundry. All I've done to combat this is eat, as you can see. My beautiful body is gone. Sig, I still love you and want you to this day.
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