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How to tame a stud bull, or at least pin him down to brand him...(Joke, No-sex)

Writers Bloque · 292

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Offline Writers Bloque

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Not so much a stud, still getting into my own.....


The mid summer morning, it was a Sunday of peace. Last day of the school kids vacation. I laid in bed half asleep as the window fan was plowing some still cool air as I sought to sleep in.

"WRITER FUCKING BLOQUE, GET YOUR CHUNKY ASS OVER HERE!"

That would be the unison voices of my life long friend and her mother in an often teaching moment of how to get my attention two blocks away. My mom stormed up the stairs as my dad was doing his dad thing, wanting to read the paper before breakfast and church. I had an itchy tummy that I was scratching as my mom knocked my door down for the nth time that summer.

My mom kicked the ever loving shit out of me, dropping me to the floor. She grabbed the book I squirreled my summer lawn cutting money in, and hit me with it.

"They just called me, you know damned well you could hear them, your window faces their houses direction."

"Wha did I do?"

"Oh you know what you did. Get Dressed and get your ass over there. Say goodbye to your dream with that money."

I already bought me my first day outfit that was still almost in vogue for a boy entering middle school. I bought my own haircut, or I thought, since my grandmother always paid for it until I started earning my own, and then I found out that the barber humored me, but gave what my grandmother wanted. Short Boys Cut, or affectionately called "Please kick my ass, I have a pocket full of money that is fair game" style. So I slipped on some shorts and a tank top, until my mom snatched it off me, and made me wear a semi nice shirt.

"We are going to church to pray for your dumbass soul, you will do whatever they want you to do."

My mom threw me out of my window, or would have if I had been one step slower. But for a pregnant lady she was fast. I looked for my bike, and had to take the time to unchain it from the pile of bikes we had going, even though my dad built a cool bike rack, last one in the pile had to lock it all down. After that I rode, almost kicking Lawrence the newspaper dork off his bike. I hated that guy with a hate fueled burning passion. He ratted me out to my parents for digging up a layer of grey/white clay from the orange clay, clay pits. I thought it might have been worth something, so I decided to gather up as much as I could by large plastic buckets, dump it in my back yard, where I would work quickly to separate the grayish white clay from the orange. So a medium pile of clay got me a tennis ball wad of that weird clay. My mom beat me within an inch of my life. She thought it was toxic or something. It wasn't. But neither was it sculpting clay. I read if I mixed bone ash and other things with it, I could get a primitive porcelain. Too much work. But Lawrence had to pay, for every strike against my hardening and firming buttocks. So I rode by as he was flirting with his girl he was sweet on, Kicked his bike and sent him into the turtle filled drainage pond.

Fortunately he had already made his run and was out to have fun. I did not care as I turned the corner and locked in on my best friend in the whole world's house. Was she a girl? Who gave a damned, she could out spit me, out wrestle me and almost out run me, and on a bored trip to the camp, she can *almost* out piss me. Made me stay on one side of a thick bush so I could not see how she managed her stream, but I still believe her claims to this day if she had just drank one more large cup of tea she would have beat me.

She was a tomboy up to that point, until her momma was civilizing her by making her comb her wild hair, not wearing shorts or tank tops any more, among the other non lady like things she couldn't do anymore. She hated every ounce of it. One of the biggest fights that got very vocal and very public was her adamant refusal to wear a training bra. Ladies, I am a man, so I do not know the struggle, I never understood why it was so horrible to wear one, until I learned a little of it as she forced one on me. It was tight and weird.

Middle school is a weird time. You cant get away with being a goofy kid anymore, and people are noticing you more.

But at this point in the story I was being led inside their house, getting an asswhoopin by my friend as her mom is chiding me furiously. The nice folks were my parents life long friends. Know what that means? They had a special right to whoop my or my siblings asses  if they caught us acting out of line. What did I do so wrong? Well....

Being low income kind of sucked. So instead of hitting up the cool backpack stores, you hit the dollar store or thrift stores. The problem was, the other day I was on my back in her room, with my legs in the air, as she wanted to sit on the bottom of my feet. We did stupid shit like that often, and I was reading a comic book down there while she was reading some very light romance shit her aunt got her a box of. Her mom came in the room and handed her, her "new" bookback, and shook her head at me. Fuck it, it wasn't bothering me, and it was not like she was stepping on me. I used to throw her into the pool like that. Her mom left and friend waited until her mom was out of ear shot to hate on it. It was a pink, pastel pink, and a lisa frank pink hell. She did not wear pink often. Or much at all. So we had to think around a major problem of getting rid of it.

Our parents had a rule: If the book bag gets ruined and it was a witnessed accident, they will replace it. BUT if any of us intentionally ruined it with the first month of school, we would have to tote out books in a plastic grocery bag. No exceptions.

"Writer, you both get in the car."

Well my plan was simple. I fetched two of those premade ultra cheap hamburger patties, ready to cook from my house. I loathe beef heart meat burgers, they taste worse than impossible burgers, I dont know how. Then I placed them in the bookbag for her to hang on the back door. The dog they owned was supposed to destroy it to get to the patties. But all that old lazy dog was pull it off the door shake it around, mess up the kitchen with it, and gave up after it was too much work. Thats how I was in trouble. So we are walking to the car and her mom asks why I did it, and I said she told me too, so we both wore a hot ass that day.

We drove around quietly, until we arrived at Kmart. I had all of about forty bucks in my pocket, plus the wad of bills my dad handed me on my way out the door, so about sixty total.

"I am going to go get the rest of the list. Writer, you escort the princess to the book bags and let her pick out one she likes. We were to meet at the checkout. So she and I shopped, or in our case she found two belts and made a leash to keep me from wandering off from her, as I was prone to do. After an hour of looking, my energy was low. But to this day I counted that as marriage training. She finally found one for older girls, as it had a purse that matched. I was stunned as she checked herself out in the mirror with it. Then I said the THING THAT MUST NEVER BE SAID TO A WOMAN OR GIRL EVER!!!! "Why do you need a purse, you aint got nothing to tote?"

When I woke up my left eye was hurting something fierce. My glasses were okay, and she was squatting next to my head poking my cheek to see if I was still alive.

"I'm hungry. Mom is still off shopping."

I checked the price of the bag purse combo and was excited. I could afford it and might have some grapico money. Nope. She was hungry, so we put the backpack combo in the buggy at the entrance and decided to have a meal. Well if I was going to blow my entire wad, might as well get a good lunch out of it. We sat and ate not realizing her mom has passed the Kcafe three times. I heard some women talking and chuckling, but could not make out their conversation, since i could not see where they were. We were destroying another round of pizza and soda when her sworn life long enemy came into the cafe with her lackeys in tow. The age old battle of tomboys. But this one was different. The enemy in question was dressed nicely and was doing that half insult half compliment thing girls do, insinuating that me and my friend were in a deeper relationship than we had.

This struck a nerve with my future wife. She did not like her girly side. Not that she hated it, but she saw it as a hindrance to what she wanted to do. Because shes constantly being told that girls don't climb trees, spit, get into fights, etc. I was standing there waiting for the fight with my little bag of popcorn and drink, cause when these two fight, its gonna be good. But nothing happened. The other girl thought she won. But my future wifes face was darker than hell. Her fists were clenched so hard, if she had nails she would be bleeding now. The toadies were mocking her with "Wife loves Writer!"

She looked at me, and I was sipping the soda, and it looked like she was about to flood the store with her tears. They tore into me, knocking my drink out of my hand. That was a Mr. Pibb. #2 favorite soda next to Grapico. I grabbed the weak ass punk Harlen by his shirt and pulled him face to face.

"So what if I like her, wanna fight about it?"

The store grew silent. Time stopped as Wife looked at me with the weirdest look ever. Never again have I seen that look before or after. She started crying and ran. Her mom gave chase, leaving the buggy there. I didn't. I sometimes ask her if I should have followed her that day. She says what did my heart want to do. I always tell her that I wanted to beat those jerks up. I threw the scrawny runt to his friends, and roared at them. They ran off to their parents. I was left alone in the cafe with no drink, no friend, and they were out of pizza and had to make more. The cashier let me have another soda as I sat there waiting for them to come back. They didn't. The cafe was closing when my parents showed up to find me trying to figure things out. I handed my mom the money for the book bag. and my dad walked me back to the truck, talking to me. Apparently they called my dad and told them where I was. My dad was trying to give me the intro to the "Talk" as my mom paid for the book bag and came back to the truck to make it even more awkward. My dad ran the combo to his friend and both men looked at me in the truck and shrugged.

For the love of me at that moment, I did not even know what I did wrong.....

Will continue after dinner.
« Last Edit: July 15, 2024, 03:06:46 PM by Writers Bloque »

View a list of all my stories here

To taste Heaven, one must play in Hell.


Offline Writers Bloque

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  • You would think anything this fun would be illegal
That night I sat in my room, nursing cold Chinese take out. My parents took everyone to lunch after church, and was kind enough to bring me home a to go box. I put on some low music and prepared my book bag for tomorrow. I then showered and prepared for bed.

Still confused, as I woke to get clean, and dressed. Mom had pop tarts ready for us. What she did was opened a full box  and baked them for a few minutes, though it really wasn't enough for me to eat as a breakfast. What sucks was you had to bring your lunch for the first week, and though he tried, if left to my father, well.... Its best not to think about it. Fortunately I found some money for me and wife's yearly first day of school ritual. We had ample time to wait for the bus, so we would run to the gas station, grab two chocolate milks and two honey buns. And we would pretend we were the rich kids, until the bus came. But today.

Today was very different.

Like the worst kind of different.

She did not speak to me. But she stayed within arms reach. We quietly walked to the gas station, and bought our usual and trudged back to the stop to watch the high schoolers get picked up. The order the buses went was Elementary>High School>Middle school. No one knew why, leading theory suggested that the high school kids could watch the younger kids at the bus stop. More like create an army of mini slaves, but thats not talked about out loud.

We sat silently, as the other kids were getting to the stop, including Lawrence. Fuck that guy. The neighborhood information network was in overdrive after what was known as "The Kmart Breakdown." Everyone and their brothers and sisters knew about it, and well Lawrence is the cousin of my wife's tomboy rival. And if that ass hat knew, well...

"Oh, look, its the lovebirds sharing a meal. Must need a lot to eat after kissing all night."

This drew out giggles and ooo's and ah's from the immature mob.

"Fucking hell, Lawrence. Do you just like pain? Is that why your hot for Slappin Sally?"

I went there. Oh I went nuclear right off the bat. Sally was a girl who had problems. One was she had very poor impulse control, so if you did anything more that say hi to her, she would slap you. Face, Arms, Back, Ass, etc. But we were all told to not make fun of her.

"HEY! Don't laugh at her!"

"Not laughing at her, numbnuts, laughing at what is about to happen."

I thought a punch from wife would clean his clock, but no. I did not notice her fully, as we spent our time together not looking at each other. But when I turned to look, there was an actual girl in a one piece cute dress, bows in her hair, her purse and book bag. She was pretty and cute at the same time. But instead of her wanting to lash out like normal, I guess I said more WORDS TO NEVER BE SPOKEN.

"You look pretty."

Prepared for a blow up, All I got was...

"Shove it, asshole."

She walked away to talk to some of her other friends, who also were dressed nicely for the first day. Me, I had to get my morning workout in. I am not a violent man, but Lawrence was the asshole who brought violence out of people by merely breathing.

He started laughing at the exchange between wife and I. So that day with everyone trying to not laugh or keep me from making them accessories to murder, I invented a new game. "Can Lawrence Dodge?" It became the newest sensation.

And no, his dodge rate was abysmal.

But someone shouted bus from three blocks down, and we stopped and I let everyone else on, knowing the seat I wanted. I felt a tug on my sleeve, and wife was holding it as we made our way to find seats, giggles let us know that while there were a few other empty seats, one was prepared for us. And by prepared, it had notes on it calling us lovers and such. Right. Real mature. So i let her in, and I glared at everyone, as the bus moved on forward.

At school, we sat in the cafeteria, where a very light breakfast was being served, which was fruit and cheese sticks with orange juice. Me and wife were free lunchers, but that would not start until we turned in the completed cards. So I paid a whopping buck fifty for two breakfasts. She was still not talking to me much, choosing to remain within an arms length of me. So I handed her the food, and I complimented her outfit, which earned me a hard blow to my side as I sat down. We compared schedules and the only class we did not share was art, as my art class was later than hers. Our first class was a homeroom like class. Fortunate for me, a cousin went here, and she told me where all my classes were. So I led her to the class, and what a shocker! No assigned seating. This was like the ultimate freedom. To be able to sit by someone who isn't Lawrence. So I took my seat in the back next to the window, Wife was to my right, and Lawrence and Sally are on the other side of the room. I did not know what we were supposed to do in this class, but I pulled out a book to read while we waited for the teacher to come in.

The nicest teacher came in, and this pseudo class started. What it was, was basically an introduction to the school, the rules, and other things. Morning announcements on the cctv, and all the paperwork we were supposed to take home to fill out. Basically a half hour to prepare for the day. She was kind. sometimes she would bring doughnuts.

Neat.

Next was gym/p.e.

Everyone was shocked to learn we had to go dress out in the locker room. Im all like what? Yeah apparently you change clothes, and get really fucking sweaty doing harder things than chase your buddies around. So the locker room was divided by grade level, so we were Orange, and close to the wall, and on the other side of that wall, you could hear the girls talking and changing. Not that it interested us, until later... But our lockers were just big enough to hold our bags and clothes. We all changed out, and locked our lockers. We would have been able to play touch football but the girls were playing Horse while we were made to run laps, thanks to Lawrence and Nurf (Kyle) who smarted off to the coach. So we ran until we couldn't any more. I let Lawrence know without words my displeasure, and I also tripped Nurf.

However there was a slight change slowly starting to spread among the girls. They started to organize into defensive groups, only speaking to us when they absolutely had to. But once we were done running, we finally got to play tug of war. I win at that.

But something traumatic was about to happen....

Its time to return to the locker room. Coach held a box as we filed in.

"First bar is free, next you bring your own or buy one for a dollar."

The fuck?

He was handing us bars of soap. This too was happening over on the girls side.

"Whats up with this, coach?"

"You worms are growing up. You are starting to stink like shit. After P.E, you will shower and dress in, in under 10 minutes. Anyone late to next class will wear a sign detailing why you are late."

"MOVE IT!"

We ran, got naked and washed ourselves, dried ourselves, and were dressed, except for Lawrence who lost his socks, shoes, shorts and nice shirt. Apparently we had to leave the gym shorts in our lockers but brought everything else home.

Waiting out on the breezeway, the girls filed out too. I did that little wave thing to Wife and she just sniffed and looked away.

That sucked.

The bell rang and she was all friendlyish to me again. Not really talking to me, or at me. I tried to talk about how weird p.e. was, and she told me to mind my own business. Next class was math. Fun. Actually. Teacher did a fun pop quiz and anyone who answered her questions right got candy. But after that was lunch. She was invited to sit with some of her other friends, and I took that as my sign to leave, but she grabbed my sleeve, and sat me down besides her, but did not say a single thing to me, while she chatted away with her other friends. I nibbled on the left over eggrolls and rangoon, and in my lunch, wrapped in foil to keep it cold, next to some chips and cookies, was an ice cold...

GRAPICO!!!!

The best soother of a weird day.  When I pulled the tab, the hiss silenced the whole lunch room. Everyone looked at me, as I was about to take that first heavenly sip, but something hit my hand. Wife slid her camp cup to me. She had Kool aid. I had an actual soda. She doesnt say much to me all day, and now she wants my soda? I look at her, the guys look at me, the girls glare at me, and the teachers are letting this go down. I poured some for her, hoping it would make her happy like it did me. It did put a smile on her face, but I only seen a fraction of a second of it. The boys looked like I betrayed them. The girls squealed and giggled, and as usual I did not know what the fuck was going on, still dont to this day.

Lawrence did not have a lunch because he is an accident prone fool who lost his book bag with his lunch in it.

She went to art and I went to english, and the rest of the day we were together. In the art room, the teacher gave us all a single colored pencil of our choosing and told us to write our names anywhere in the room. I looked around for a bit, and found wife's name and wrote mine next to it. But not too close, did not want her mad.

On the bus home, she fell asleep. I let her sleep, and woke her at our stop. I walked her home and she said bye and thank you and that was that.

I told my mom what happened on the first day, and she laughed and asked me about wife. I told her what happened and she sat me down and explained that girls get weird in middle school. I listened. My mom offered me a cookie, and of course I took it.

I wanted to ride my bike with wife, but she was gone off with her mother.

I rode around, threw Lawrence's book bag into his yard and ended my day on a high note, as dad brought home fried chicken, as my mom was getting close to her due date, my dad can cook in the literal sense of putting things in pots and hoping for the best, but after work he did not feel like it, and fried chicken it was!

But as the new year worn on things got stranger with us, and near thanksgiving it would intensify.....

View a list of all my stories here

To taste Heaven, one must play in Hell.


Offline Writers Bloque

  • 2022 KB Erotica Writer of the Year
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    • Woos/Boos: +221/-4
    • Gender: Male
  • You would think anything this fun would be illegal



Around the end of September some sad things happened. Lawrence and Sally......

Were moved to a special needs/bad kids school. Why? Simple....

Perception and Appearance matter.

Or lets cut the shit, the fuckers were caught in a normally inaccessible area. Whether the rumors of them necking were true or not, didn't matter. They should not have been there and been there together. So they were quietly moved to the new school, to avoid expulsion, because even the thought of something happening is enough for expulsion.

But they stayed together and became even more annoying.

October came and was leaving, when I learned that Halloween was one of the times wife had more than two words to say to me. In fact she was so oddly buzzed about it, she practically twisted my arm to go with her. Not that she had to, we had been trick or treating together for ever. But this year was different. I was going as a gladiator, and she was going with her friends, and they all wanted to be Josie and the Pussycats, which I blamed Archie comics to this day. I wanted to be Conan the Barbarian, the epitome of pure masculinity, my dad seconded it, but my mom vetoed it hard. first off me running around in a fur loin cloth and belt was not happening, and second, I was going with a group of girls.

But to make it up to me my mom called her college friend who made me gladiator armor, which was just a shoulder pad, elbow and knee pads, a skirt thing and the shorts under and the x shaped straps across my chest and a wooden gladius.

Halloween was my dads thing. His mother was born on Halloween, and she died when I was entering first grade. So he took it seriously. He took my siblings to his dads house and neighborhood for the little kids parties at the church in that neighborhood. Me, I was on a mission.

After hitting Lawrence with my sword for laughing at me cause I am wearing an armored skirt, I was waiting at the meet up spot. The tradition was the little kids time to trick or treat was at dusk, where there is still light enough to not let them get scared. The older kids had to wait until the streetlights to come on to start. Me and wife spent a week planning this out. Since we could go farther, we were going to do our neighborhood, then grab our bikes, and cross Lillian highway to hit the retirement village, who ALWAYS has the best candy. Not even strangers in rusted vans had this level of good candy. And if we had time, we would hit the trunk or treats, and end our night sipping cider and eating caramel popped corn at the Baptist's harvest festival. Then we would unwind at my house with my mom as she this year was the designated candy checker among the close friends families.

The plan was set and it almost went off without a hitch.

We had a shaky alliance with the high school kids. We don't ruin their fun, and they wont go out of their way to fuck with us. That means, no peeping on them in quiet spots making out. Stopping them from egging Lawrence's house, or going to a house party. They wont give candy to anyone but the littlest of kids, because teen girls likes cute babies. So we leave them alone, and our candy stashes are safe, and we wont be picked on. BUT. we also had their protection, as some of us were little brothers and sisters to them. So they kind of had our backs in the loosest sense of the word.

I was propped against the lamp post, bagging on a candy cig, waiting for the sun to drop. Roger, the coolest high school guy, was a football player, but also a candy maker. No one laughed at him about it because it "got him some ass." He made homemade candy, and I was always the first he would give to. He tossed me a bag, with a "Nice Skirt!" I fumed and he laughed. We talked a bit, me mostly asking him if girls stop being weird in high school. He told me without a doubt the double up on the weirdness. I told him about wife and he said she was completely into me, but she was not going to give in without a fight, women like the fight.

My eyes were big and sparkly. This was a man among men. Just being next to him, I felt more mature and manly.

"When girls keep being weird, you just keep moving on and being you."

He said as he messed my hair up.

He continued his rounds leaving me awestruck and inspired.

The sky darkened with just a hint of daylight left. Wife and her band arrived, with a couple more girls in tow. This was anticipated, as everyone knew the plan. We gathered and harvested candy from the neighborhood. I checked my watch I had on my bike when we made it to my house. Still good. Dad was leaving with my siblings, and after getting the ladies a drink, we put the next phase of the plan into action. I grabbed my bike with the large folding wagon hitched. In it was a plastic crate with bags, and it doubled as a seat for them I also put all the sides but the rear up high, so they can sit and hold on. Wife had a wagon on her bike to carry those who were not in my wagon. We took off.

Lillian Highway did not go to Lillian. But crossing it any other time of the year was a bit risky, but with schools, and churches on the road, along with traffic lights, made speeding almost impossible. But crossing it meant we are no longer in our neighborhood. We had to be careful, as other kids are territorial about their hunting grounds.

There are no kids living in the retirement village, and as of the "Halloween Non Aggression or Harassment Pact of '79" it is neutral ground even if you are related to anyone in there. So inside is safe, but the trunk or treats are not, nor is the party at the Baptist Church. The pact was written long before we were born, well two years before I was, but still. But a truce was reached at the neighborhood YMCA a few days before this to combat a serious crisis. Too much prey with few predators. A lot of sweet spots are drying up as that neighborhood's kids move or get too old to gather candy. So the Five neighborhoods in the Grove had worked it to allow out of territory hunters to hunt in limited areas, mostly the streets where there are no kids, seeding them by playing on those streets enough to get the grown ups to get candy. I was not part of any of it. After the neighborhood, my haul was heavy.

We scored HARD at the village. Money, whole candy bars, and snacks. It was worth it. Leaving, we crossed the street to hit the first church. The girls were excited, and I was getting my work out. I now know I can rickshaw. The trunk or treats were okay, cool cars and music. The deal was, half of us would go in, and the other half would guard bikes, and switch. The cool wind was whipping as we were heading to the party. However there was one place we were not allowed to go. And it was a no kid zone. The Grove trailer park. They did not give, nor let any kid in. If you had kids in there you were SOL, as you had to leave the park to go get candy, and you also had to deal with the drunks and drunken landlady sitting at the bottom of the sloped driveway to enter. They would yell, cuss and chase you away. Kids would move to the other side of the street to avoid them. We were told to not interact with them ever. Later in life I learned it was a trailer park that housed S.O's and that there were never any children in there. It was just feet outside of the "500 yard" rule.

We get past them carefully and make it to the land of candy and honey, where they filled your bags with treats and hearts with God, and as a kid, that was the perfect deal. Snacks, games, real food, even a tractor ride. It was hokey looking back at it, but at the time it was fun.

I was not fibbing, my cousin in the Army gave me a real duffel. I filled it up that night. It was gloriously heavy and hard to close, but now the party was winding down as traffic lightened, it was time for all the good little ghouls to be home. But we had a problem. The trailer park people had moved their party to their driveway. I was unlocking my bike while the ladies were making a pit stop, when I heard them. I heard them talking drunkenly about the cute kids in costumes. I swear it. I got defensive, because they could see us at the bike rack. I had my bike ready to go, but I noticed her tires were flat. I am not making any accusations here, but also she was a ditz about bike maintenance. My dad would have to often patch her tire or replace the tube for her father. The girls come back and I whisper to my wife "we have a problem, your tires are totally flat."

They started freaking out, so I said:

"Fill my wagon with your stuff. Lightest on the front pegs, Wife on the rear, and everyone hold on."

Of fucking course I had stunt pegs, no boy didn't, I also had a BMX and a deathwish too. It was hard pumping through the dirt as loaded as we were. I heard them laughing at me. I pumped harder until I hit asphalt. To avoid passing them, I had to ride through "Halloween Hollow." It was basically a block party for high school and grown ups, after the kids are tucked away. Fog machines, music and food, and also for those old enough, booze. But I cut through there hard, because I thought those trailer park people were after us. I was cannonball running my way through the streets as people tried to scare us in passing. I knew these streets as Jack lived near by. I did not stop until I took the back roads to my house. My mom was on the porch with a watch in her hands counting loudly. I power skid into the driveway, and hustle the girls with their candy into the house. I drew my sword and stood my ground at the edge of my driveway.

Roger passed me, and tossed another bag of candy at me. He noticed I was waiting for something.

"You know you cant hurt ghosts with a wooden sword and in a skirt, right?"

I told him what happened, and he told me to wait there. He came back minutes later. It was all clear, no trailer people looking for me. He laughed and his girlfriend laughed as they were heading to the Hollow party.

It was Saturday night, so the girls left my house, thanking me and giving me some candy. They had their book bags and candy, and marched off towards wife's house for a girls only sleep over. Fine, I wanted to swim in my candy anyways. It was so cute that I thought that. I was ordered to escort them home. They waited for me as I dragged my candy to my room, and with sword in hand I escorted the maidens home like a hero. It was peaceful.....

Fuck no it wasn't. 5 scared girls, as the other two lived near the church hosting the party, so their parents picked them up. But 5 scared as all hell girls and a doofus with a wooden sword. I used to love the covers of the Conan novels, where hes standing proudly with his sword in the air, as ladies are hanging onto his legs. Fuck that. girls not women get fucking annoying when scared. Like fuck me trying to save them, when they stop using any god given common sense and start hassling me trying to protect them. I was tempted to trade them all for another army green duffel bag super full of candy.

"Hey Thing that goes Bump, man I got 5 spring girls, fresh. Dont eat me, but you can have them for a massive bag full of candy."

I doubt there is any monster who eats humans who could resist that deal.

Half way to her house someone played a recording of a church bell. That alone almost made me piss myself. Not for scaring me, but what it meant. It's Asshole Hour. The last of the kiddies are off the streets, so now its time for the assholes to play. If you are caught out here at this time, it was your ass, literally. No kid should be outside, and we all knew and heard the stories. Kids in black terrorizing the neighborhood. If your house was left alone, count your blessings. In truth they only targeted certain houses.

But we were in the dark as a boy in all black with a hockey mask was paintballing up cars as he rode by. We stuck to the shadows until we could cross the street at the corner to get to her house. I managed to get them into her gate, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Sorry chap, seems like your luck ran out."

The boy with the mask had guys behind them in dark clothes and masks.

I wish the truth was that I ran. But the girls were not in the house yet, slowly backing up to the porch. I am just a boy, I am no hero, I am just a boy, I have something to protect, even if I did not want to.

I was going to fight without honor or humanity. Once the girls were safe, I was going to do as much as I could. I was becoming a meat brick, not fatty, but chunky. I was getting a little tone due to my parents using physical labor as a punishment. I reached in my pocket with one hand up. I knocked out a candy cig from the pack, and pretended to smoke using the candy dust effect.

"Can a guy get his last smoke?"

"Sure Buddy."

My mom tried to force feed the idea that I was a nice guy into my head. She told me stories of me kicking some older kids ass for knocking my toddling brother down. Jumping on a playground toy and jumping on the kid. She had the notion that I was something worth a damn, even when I did not feel like it. During this time I was struggling with my self esteem issues. I was a large kid, and I felt I had no where I belonged. But that scared girl on the porch, who before would have jumped into the fray with me, and smiled while doing it made me feel like a person. Even if she and her friends were growing weird like aliens every day, she was nice to me. She punched me when I needed it.

At this point I liked fighting a little. Not that I was a pacifist, but I wasn't going to be bullied without fighting back.

The cig eaten, I moved to the car trailer on the road in front of wife's house. No, I am not a hero. Hero's are loved and worshiped. They do shit to save the day. Me, I was just Writers Bloque. I was big and dumb, and loved my momma, and teddy bear I kept locked away, as I did not need him anymore, and I wanted to heirloom him. I liked books, and t.v. and I kinda liked that girl on the porch. They started to advance on me, hoping I would run. Not happening. I cocked my head back towards the ladies and smiled, as I could see them squat down looking over the porches half wall watching me.

I am Writers Bloque, and I really liked punching people who deserved it.

My first attack was to throw the sword up as high as I could. They laughed watching it go up. Next step was "Big n Nasty's Down and Dirty Shame."  My dad taught it to me. Kick the fuck out of the dudes knee or punch him in the dick. Then when he doubles over push him into his friends. I did. Now they are not grouped together.

"Writer, it takes no energy to take a punch. As long as you keep your wits, you can fight harder than your opponents, because they are wearing themselves out hitting you."

I stepped forward on my off foot, reared back with my fist as the jason masked guy was charging into me. I took his haymaker, and then I punched the side of his face. A dude behind me grabbed me, and I let go of my legs and since he wasn't expecting that I was out of his grasp, and I rewarded him with a punch up, right into his twig and berries. They started stomping and kicking me as I rolled under the trailer. They were waiting for me on the other side, but I was already under the truck. I pop out and start throwing wild punches. I got a few good blows in, but soon I was surrounded, blocking my face from the hits. I stomped feet, and tried for low blows, but in the end, I was going to die right there. But at least the girls were safe.

I started crying as the pain was getting too much. I threw punches where I could, but it was not looking good. I really was dying. And not even a piece of candy or kiss goodbye. I closed my eyes, blood from my nose is warm, I am coughing it up too. I couldnt see anymore, my face was torn up, blood from my eyebrows was blinding me. I knew how Rocky felt in those movies. That shit hurts. I wondered if momma is gonna cry. But the hits stopped. I couldn't hear anything, too many blows to my ears made them ring so loud, everything sounded far away. Once I stopped being hit, I was allowed to fall, and the ground hugged me to sleep....

November 3.

I woke up painfully. A dull beeping sound to my left. a mask over my face. I ached all over. A nurse noticed and asked me questions, but I couldn't see her. I had bandages covering my eyes and ears. She took my hand and I held it. I felt bad.

"I..Hurt."

The nurse giggled a little.

"Well of course you would if you went toe to toe with what you did."

She left, and when she returned, I felt her working on my IV.

"Here is something for the pain."

She smiled.

I smiled.

And the family of elephants picnicking on my chest smiled.

I returned to sleep.

After a few more hazy days, I was feeling a bit better but sluggish. The doctor came in and told me my a rib was cracked and my skull was close to fracturing. My hearing wasn't permanently damaged, nor my sight. He wanted to keep me for a couple of more days for observation. I said cool.

Wife and her friends showed up. Apparently the school thinks I am a Mortal Kombat fighter. Also among the girls I am now "cool." neat.

They cried alot. I told them I am fine.

The filled me in on things going on at school. She brought me homework to catch up on. Thanks lady.

The girls returned to the waiting room. My grandfather wanted to see me...

"Are you fucking stupid?"

"No."

"Even if I was younger, I would have ran."

He berated me, but ended it with telling me he was proud of me.

He left, and the girls came back.

They told me what happened after I fell down. My dad and her dad rushed the group with their guns, kept them right there and the police showed up and arrested them all. I was taken to the hospital.

I listened with all of the care of a man watching both the grass grow and paint dry. But at least she was talking to me.

"HAHAHA! I got you to talk to me!"

She did not like that. She raised her fist but decided to storm off with her friends in tow.

I went back to sleep.

I was released the following monday, and it was chilly outside. My birthday was a little more than a week away, and that's when it started......

View a list of all my stories here

To taste Heaven, one must play in Hell.


Offline Writers Bloque

  • 2022 KB Erotica Writer of the Year
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It was almost noon on the Monday I was released. So no school. My mom found a ride for me to get home. My maternal grandmother gave me two earfuls on the way home. But oddly she stopped and Wendy's for a frosty. Last lunch at the hospital was a hot dog and onion rings. Dad the day before after work left me two grapico's so I had one with my lunch. It was divine. I was in the hospital gown, my costume was officially wrecked. She also stopped by a thrift store she was on the best of terms with. Grandma had a mafia like circle in the crafting and thrift world. She walked in, and five minutes later I had gym shorts and a polo t-shirt on. She told me stories on the way home about grandpa's life/ He died four years before I was born, when my mom was 19. He only fought when there was only no other option. But that night peace was not an option, because all I could see in my mind was those punks stealing and hurting them.

She said I got bitten by the bug and would say no more.

I get home, and on my bed was my big ass duffel of candy. I hugged it like an old friend, until I had to move the bastard, because my mom ordered me to take a nap. Dad brought me dinner, which was a big mac with fries. He sat and talked to me some more. My dad was a man who would come visit you in the hospital. Play checkers or cards, talk to you, and when the hot water was out, when I was in surgery for my lung, he brought everyone who was still at home up to use my rooms shower. But he still made it a point to visit. He talked to me a bit deeper now that I was home. He asked me why did I do it, and other questions.

I replied.

"Because, I don't know. I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Wife getting hurt."

"Oh. OH! HAHAHAHA."

My dad had a deep belly laugh. I asked what part of getting my ass kicked till next Tuesday was funny.

"Because, you sir are in love."

"What in the he---"

"Dont finish that."

"Love? Her? she is so damned annoying! She wont talk to me, but she hangs around me. She drank my soda, and no thanks, and and.."

"And your world would break if she got hurt and wasn't in it anymore."

"Yeah."

"Dr. Dad says you might need to figure out how to sort this out before you either die or worse."

"How?"

"Cant tell you that. This is your own trip. Man up and figure it out, because I don't want to see you beaten to a pulp again."

"Yes, sir."

I finished my meal and he handed me the medicine I was supposed to take, and he turned off my light and took the trash with him when he left the room.

In the morning, I got up sore, showered, pissed and looked at my body in the mirror. I looked like leftover three times warmed over. My legs still hurt so they prescribed a cane for me, until I could walk normally again. My mom handed me the doctors note excusing me from P.E. for the rest of the year until we went back to school after winter break. Mom walked with me to the bus stop, but no one said a word. Even the high school kids offered me a rock to sit on. The rocks were big, left as yard art, despite the house having no owner. My mom hugged me and left.

"Dude, Writer, did you really fight those guys?"

"Yeah."

"Damn, should have screamed, we would have backed you up."

"Well I was trying to keep the girls safe you know."

That got me some "awws" from the older girls.

Speaking of girls, the timid five were just a few feet away from the rocks respectfully. But the older girls ushered them in, and off to the side to "talk."

Their girls talk got serious quick as I was being inspected from afar.

Strong hands held my sore shoulders down as James, the 2nd cool guy told me not to move.

I was in no position to struggle so I complied.

The Timid 5 lined up.

This event changed the battle of the sexes for me.

Each girl came up to me and thanked me, leaving a kiss on my cheek as they returned to the middle school group.

I was redder than I was after the beating. I couldn't think straight and started swooning.

James laughed.

"Little Writer the hero got his first kiss!"

Word spread with the story among the high school. It was one of those sappy romance stories high school girls eat up with both hands.

I felt small but also mighty. The bus came for the high school group and the older girls waved bye to me. I could have sworn I got their honor.

The middle school boys whom I was on "not punching for annoying me" terms gathered as the girls went to the bushes to talk.

Now I am not saying I was some legendary, even mythical figure. My fame was fleeting, as new events buried what I did. But it was nice to be recognized.

The aftermath of that morning was I could not look at any girl in the eye for fear of being kissed again. Not that it was horrible, but still. it was a whole another level than my momma's forehead kisses thats for sure. I was worried I might have hurt them.

The dumb shit you think of when you are young and in love.

My birthday was the following Friday.

My Birthday.

That day I woke up feeling on top of the world. Most of the upper body pain was gone, the sun was nice, the air chilled, and my cane was ready. I lost the cane to my mom when I tried to beat down some attempted candy thieves with it. So I got it to go to school, and come home, and if I wanted to walk to the gas station or shopping with her, but after that, it was in her closet, the no mans land.

The past week was weird, as Wife was helping my mom a lot more than normal. Still not talking to me directly much, but I do get a few more words out of her. So today everyone was milling about. A high school boy had to handle some business with another one from a different stop, trying to approach his girlfriend. Everyone looked at me, and the girl stealer left, like I was a rabid attack dog. But the entire middle school group was completely ignoring me.

Strange.

Got on the bus and no one spoke to me, and I sat with wife who was dispassionately looking out the window. Getting off the bus was problematic as I almost twisted my ankle and fell out of the bus. But the cane helped and I came down hard on my sore leg, which made me cry out. No one paid attention. I grabbed some breakfast, nothing. Wife was sitting with her friends and they were deep in conversation, but no room for me at the table. The only free spot was the teachers tables, which were empty.

Homeroom was not as energetic as it normally was, and I sat down, thumbing through another adventure of some warrior. No one paid me any attention. P.E. seen me in the library, reading up on history, as that was a class later in the day.

The whole day was like that.

I got home and my mom called me from the garage, where she was making and painting wooden signs, she had a big show tomorrow, and was finishing up her products. She handed me some money and told me to go get her a Dr. Pepper from the gas station. A once five minute walk was now a ten.

The house was a frenzy of activity as my dad wrangled my siblings into loading the crates carefully. I tried to help but my mom kicked me out again, to go get a snack for everyone from the gas station. Again I walked to the gas station. This would happen three more times. Finally, i was hurting, and annoyed. I said that they had cars. Dad said I had two feet and was living rent free in his house. He had a valid point.

Last trip was after a pizza dinner, mom was still hungry, and wanted some nachos and a gas station burrito. Guess who was pregnant again? Mom would not know until she took a test at Thanksgiving, and if I knew how it happened I would have told my dad to stay off of her.

So I trudged. I pondered how much trudging I did in my life up to that point. The conclusion was entirely too much. For once the living room was empty, as everyone was either in bed or going to bed. Mom and dad were finishing up. I had control of the T.V. I watched some show until I grew bored. I knew it was my birthday, but apparently I outgrew parties like in elementary school. I walked to my moms work room, and deposited the change in her change jar and excused myself for bed.

I was a little sad. I mean its not often a guy turns thirteen. But I also knew my mom and dad busted their asses to make it up to me. I did get some cards in the mail, I opened at my desk, got some nice pocket money, and after stashing it. I was in my underwear when I noticed a box on my bed. I was curious, and very cautious. Horror movies did it to me. I figured, I would open the box and then be a picture on a milk carton in my underwear. I took my cane, since mom did not lift it off of me and poked the box. When it did not spring a trap, or a monster did not steal me, I cautiously opened it...

Inside was a cupcake with a candle, two cans of grapico a card and a littler box. I moved it to my desk, as I went to my closet something made the hair on my neck stand. I think my fear reached my mom, as she called for me. She wanted her drink made, which was a chore of the child around who was capable of it. Not that my mom was lazy, but she was elbow deep in stain and gets thirsty. I told my mom about the box, and she dismissed me with a giggle. I was a little afraid, so I told my mom that it was not funny, and to use the picture of me last Christmas on the milk cartons. She threw a dry sponge at me.

I returned to my desk, and opened my secret stash and withdrew my coveted lighter. Dad let me keep it, as I was not good at lighting campfires any other way. I wanted to get my shorts on, in case I had to run through the chilly night to escape whatever wanted a government regulated portion size of me. So I opened my closet to grab the robe I got from my aunt, it had my initials embroidered on it. Just then a shadowy figure lunged at me.

For the first time in my life, I truly screamed as the monster toppled me to the ground to eat me...

A full minute passed by.

No help came.

The only sounds I heard was giggling from my moms workroom directly below my room.

I waited for the teeth to sink in.

I was still banged up, but I was pinned to the floor, so fighting back was not an option.

The headlines would read: "Boy, 13, was mauled to death in his underwear, in his room on his birthday."

I could imagine the rumors that would spread. I hoped at least they would make me look cool. I was not worried about my underwear, even though my mom was obsessed with it being clean.

Another minute passed and whatever was pinning me down had shifted itself on me.

I opened my eyes and straddling my stomach was a girl in a skirt. Her hair was done up, she smelled like jasmine, and despite it all she had a huge smile on her face.

This was worse than any monster.

That smile of hers meant trouble.

Always with the trouble.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Happy birthday, fat boy!"

"Thanks twig-girl!"

I was starting to get a *weird* feeling. I felt her weight on my stomach, but it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. I was having the weird feelings for awhile, but it was not something you could tell anyone, as if anyone would understand. But she did the cute. She booped my nose with her finger tip and got off of me. I sat up and threw my robe on as I was oddly self aware.

She held the smaller box, chanting "Open it!" repeated in rapid fire.

I did, and a lion bit my head off.

Really.

Aww, alright fine, it was a sharks tooth necklace. A cheap trinket, but to me was the coolest thing ever. I put it on.

Funny note: I still wear it to this day to embarrass her. Church, weddings, dinners, dates, to her parents, etc. I make it a point for it to be seen. Had to restring it twice, once because the faux leather cord broke and the other time, my second daughter wanted to wear it, but she snatched it off and broke the cord. Wife gets way to shy for a married woman with four kids over it. Its like a small skirmish victory in the battle of the sexes.

Writer 100 - Wife 150

I lit the candle on the cup cake and put it out. My wish had already come true by now, so I can say it. I wished to be with this annoyingly cute, tomboyish girl forever. In the hospital I made up my mind. I was all in for this girl. This girl who was fun, but also hyper annoying. This ball of jasmine and lavender scented fluff that like a dandelion seed has landed on me and taken root in my heart. Girls are fluffy and smell nice. I still did not know what they were for, but I was determined to figure it out.

She ate the cupcake, which I knew it was homemade and my momma's red velvet recipe. Mom must have had a craving for them and made a batch while on a break. I later learned the reason for so many store trips, wife was over in the kitchen with mom learning to make them. Red velvet cake is on the list. "List of foods you can abduct Writer with." That is a long list, because I am an easy abduction, cause I was a chunky monkey.

My half was divine. Tasted like mom's but with a sweeter twinge. But she was not through. She got up and reached under my bed. Now I was intrigued. She pulled out a large thin box, wrapped in the girliest wrapping paper ever. I opened it, and it of course was another way to abduct me: Lego's. It was the set I wanted that was out at the time.

"Me and the girls pitched in to get you this. I told them not to, but they did not listen."

I put it on my desk, and my dad called for wife.

She left the room and I cleared the desk, and also threw shorts and a shirt on as the robe didn't feel right to wear.

Wife and dad came up the stairs, and carried a large box between them.

"Here's the rules: No scary movies late at night, if I hear kissing on the tv, its gone, T.v. is off at ten."

My dad laid the ground rules as he set up the tv/vcr combo on my dresser. Apparently when I was in school he had the cable ran to my room.

My mom called me, while dad and wife were setting it up.

"Writer, get your sleeping bag out. Wife is staying the night to help you tomorrow watch your siblings."

"Okay, mom."

"You are a young man now, so you will sleep on the other side of your room. Got it?"

"Yes mom."

"Make sure you thank her properly, she busted her little ass for you. Make sure you stay worth the effort."

"Aww geeze mom."

I did not know the full weight of her words at the time, I thought it was mom being a mom. I did not know my mom was a girl first. I now know the full weight of her words, and think she could see the future.

And yes, my mom would use "Ass" when speaking of others. It was one of her quirks.

I never let my room get too dirty as it was a pain in the ass to try and clean when your siblings would come in to play and assist in messing it up again. So all my toys were in crates, and put up, so when I pulled out the blanket, I noticed wrappers on the floor of my closet. This girl ate my candy. Not that I made a huge dent in it. The chocolate was confiscated and put in the deep freezer for my moms recipes. I pushed down my mad, and grabbed the blankets and pillows for the floor.

I made a nest on the floor, and we snuggled down with the Grapico to watch the first movie in my room ever, Die Hard. A movie channel my dad had ordered was showing it. I finally got to see the full movie from start to finish. Oddly, the scene at the end would have normally grossed us out when they kissed, we were engrossed by it. Then the softcore started, and we changed it over to a disney movie.

She was already ready for bed, and I let her crash on my bed, despite normally we slept on the floor talking or reading comics until my mom would make us sleep. But something was different. I looked at her, and she asked if my birthday was a good one. I replied with a nod, and then it felt like something was pushing my head forward.

In the early skirmishes of the battle of the sexes, I scored the first win.

My lips met with hers, and it tasted like happy and Grapico.

I would love to embellish this and say that from day one I was an expert Casanova or even Lothario level kisser, one that even a peck melted ladies left and right. But no, it was awkward and clumsy, but the effect was real.

She stopped.

She looked at me, touched her lips, and got up and mechanically walked to my mom.

Two squeals and giggles from below. I could not hear everything, but I prayed I was not dead on my birthday.

My dad on his way to bed, cause he had to work half a day tomorrow, and then go help mom at her weekend show, passed by my room, and gave me a silent thumbs up.

I think I made him proud. Well I hoped I did.

Wife came in the room, got under the blankets said "Goodnight" and fell asleep.

4:30 in the morning.

Mom and Dad were up. Dad had to drive to Destin for work, as they were building a beach hotel. He took my mom's van to work, as the truck was on blocks because of :The fucking transmission."

Dad just needed three hours he said, and true to his word, he fixed it in three hours after bringing mom home after day 1 of the show.

But that day was interesting. The older siblings of mine were easy to manage, as they played, and my brother had a birthday party to go to, so my grandmother picked him up and kept him until the party and after. But the babies were a bit more work. I can feed and change them, but wife was the one that could calm them down and do the motherly thing, as my mom was teaching her how. Around four, my brother came home, and my grandmother rushed to check on the napping babies, as if we could not be trusted to watch them. No matter what anyone said or did, my grandmother was overly cautious. She even second guessed my mom, who by now was a professional mother. My grandmother did it to me and the wife too, and it did get annoying. I raised four well adjusted if not quirky kids. I can safely assume our parenting skills are first rate at least.

She left when my moms van pulled into the driveway. The old Dodge Tradesman 100. With no more than two seats and yet more trouble than its worth. Mom kept it, despite having a decent vehicle because her regular van did not hold half as much as the big green van.

Wife ran home for a minute, and came back quickly, she was staying over again, because dad wanted to go to church and then book it to help mom pack up and come home. Grandma showed up to wrangle the babies and the younger kids, leaving me with wife and my brother and sister. They were in a tiff, so dad took them to church on a whim, and it was just me and her. We watched t.v. until we grew bored of it. So we started talking.

And talking.

and even more talking.

Shit, we talked a lot.

Soon she was on the phone with her friends, and soon my living room was alive with the ravenous and giggling girl squad. I was going to die. Mom and dad never told me about having company over when they were gone, just not to let strangers in. I knew the girls so it was okay. Wife disappears upstairs and comes back with a bowl of candy.

"NO. NO. OH HELL NO!"

She of course paid me no mind as the living room became a no mans land.

I protested the eating of my candy. a whole fucking lot.

She smiled cutely at me and said:

"Should I tell them what you did to me the past two nights?"
 
Now she did it. The other girls like sharks, smelled blood in the water. She admitted it, as if it wasn't a big deal to her. Girl gets kissed on the lips twice and she thinks shes grown up.

"He kissed me Friday night, and last night."

The room erupted in feminine chaos and fury.

I was kicked out of my own house.

I think a call or two was made, and soon, the girls of the neighborhood had gathered to attend the "Wife got Kissed Summit" in my front yard. Snacks and drinks were bought, the shady tree in my front yard was the gathering spot, and for a couple of hours, I was put on trial, while forced to stay inside. The Jury was all of her friends, and the judges were the bored high school girls snacking on this delicious puppy romance.

I was dragged outside, and a whole lot of eyes were watching me.

"Writer. Show us how you kissed her."

"EH!?"

"Do it."

Death loomed over me, and wife just realized how big of a mistake it was. She was pushed into me, and the crowd grew silent. I tried to play it cool, and I leaned in and kissed her lips again. Her face started glowing red, and the older girls laughed, falling off their bikes.

The younger girls turned on them, and assumed that the older girls never kissed before. How wrong the youth were. The older girls played off their kissing experience like it was no big deal, and soon the younger girls all developed the face glowing ability. Scandalous and Salacious stories of kissing boys at movies, parties, even in school overheated the crowd of young girls. Never, even in movies had they come this close to the stairway to adult hood.

Tragically, later, quite a few boys who were kind of sweet on the group, but had no interest in romance would fall victim and prey to a marauding group of girls, bent on getting kissed too. I was blamed for it, of course, but it also ended the halcyon days of male freedom, enslaving us to the evil whims of the kiss hungry girls. My wife included. She overcame the shyness.

But I developed a vaccine for the boys.

A critical blow to the all knowing feminine logic.

The formula is now a Brotherhood secret, only to be shared with an endangered male.

A hint:

If a boy and girl kiss, does that mean they love each other.

That snippet of the vaccine had utterly devastated the girls.

It made them think long and hard.

But in the end, by Christmas, there were many new couples in middle school. Me and wife included.

But back to that day under the tree.

I was annoyed, so I did it again. and again.

I hoped it would stop them from being annoying. It only riled them up.

The older girls were eating this up, telling me to do it better.

I protested. I did not know how to do it better. She did not know how to do it better. So like little puppets for their amusement and pleasure they positioned us to teach us how. The whole world grew silent as I was made to hold her. We protested.

They made us stare into each others eyes. We protested.

And then when something felt odd, we were slowly moved to position where I could smell her cereal breath. We protested.

"Start with a closed mouth."

and from there we had our first real adult kiss.

Everyone died. My front yard became a middle school girl graveyard.

BUT

The kiss was so damned effective. My toes went numb. I actually felt the tension leave my body. I felt the electricity flow through us. We had to stop, as we forgot that we had to breath. She almost collapsed, as the older girl behind her had to support her.

"And that Ladies is the adult kiss."

Soon everyone but wife dispersed back to their lives, and the info network was a furious storm of phone calls.

Also, to this day, Wife admits that was one of the hottest kisses shes had with me. Second to the kiss I gave her when I asked her to marry me right after the graduation ceremony. I like to give her soul sucking kisses, the kind where she forgets everything for a moment or two. Keeps the romance alive and healthy.

Wife crashed one more time, because mom and dad brought tacos home. But mom noticed something was off with us at the dinner table. We were fidgety. Dad in his totally uncouth manner asked me if I did anything to her. Mom chided him. Wife and mom talked while doing dishes, and dad took me to the porch.

"You gotta stop kissing her, at least until you make up your mind if shes gonna be your girl or not. It confuses them, and makes them weirder."

He was right. Things got weirder between us, at school after the fall break.

At school, it was like the night of the living dead. The boys were walking around like zombies, and the girls got really freaking clingy. Like before, they ignored us completely, but now, they were on us like white on rice. I couldn't take a relaxing piss without her and a group of girls waiting for us dudes in the bathroom. Locker room, boom they were there, Lunch, right freaking next to me in line. Bus line, right by my side.

The silent treatment was gone, replaced by having to know all the important details of her day.

The only female free sanctuary was the shower room. That's where my once brothers in arms turned on me hard.

"Why, bro?"

They were at the end of their ropes. I felt the sadness and resentment at the loss of their freedom.

But there was much more going on to cause this than my kissing habits.

I liked kissing her.

But the biggest cause of this was something we never encountered. Even the older boys and men had no clue and even less solutions.

Middle school introduced the biggest battlefield of the battle of the sexes.

The Dance.

The Winter Dance.

It would happen in two weeks, the last friday before winter break. This alone was the event hitting the nitro on the girl kissy machine. Boys and girls for a couple of hours dancing to music in a social setting. We went from playing army and finger painting right into a sappy romance movie. This of course came with a whole fuckton of problems.

First off I did not want to go. I did not know how to dance. I wanted to do anything else but dress up and look like an idiot, and as me and the guys were talking about this, I loudly proclaimed that I was not going.

Unfortunately, wife and the girls of the guys I was talking to, who also agreed to not want to go was behind us as we talked in the lunch line.

"Its really cute that you think you have a choice in this."

The girls said in unison.

We raged and fumed as we made our lunch selections and we raged some more as our table of five guys became a table of ten people.

Somehow my mom found out. I knew how she knew. So the thursday before the dance, I was in line at a formal wear shop, in line with mom, my friends and their mothers buying a nice suit for the dance. I mean they glared at me, and I gave them the one finger salute back, and my mom hit me in the back of my head. Soon it was my turn, and the suit that was selected was okay, not really my style. I kept trying to tell my mom that it was a casual dance, but none of the moms were having any of it.

It was a casual dance, but that night you might have thought it was prom. Boys in nice suits and girls in prom like dresses. This was a first dance after all. I hated the tie, as it felt like it was choking me. My hair was done up, and the matching shoes shined right. My grandfather taught me to.

The funniest thing was, despite all the "Romance" the girls wanted, the room was divided in half.

It was laughable. Neither side knowing what to do next. The girls were looking at Wife like she was their leader as the seventh and eighth grade girls were already having a good time. The boys looked ready to sacrifice me to god if I did not make a move for them.

Now that I had a tv in my room, I got to watch Bond movies in preparation for this. So I mustered up all the suave and debonair I could muster from my 13 years of living and I walked to the snack table, and grabbed two cups of punch.

The boys were taking notes.

I walked up to the girls, who parted from surrounding wife, and I handed her a drink, she smiled and thanked me, and downed it in one gulp. I took her cup and sat it on the nearby table, and took her hand.

"Let us dance."

She swooned and followed me to the dance floor. We just followed the dance of the others on the floor, and once done, we hung out and chatted with the other brave couples in our grade. Soon everyone was dancing and mingling having a good time.

The dance was winding down, and it was time for a new thing. The slow dance. I am not ashamed to admit my mom and dad had to show me how to slow dance. No one is born knowing how to use a slow and sensual dance to seduce a lady. So when the music played, it was funny, as a lot of us guys had sore feet, from the ladies stepping on them, but I held her close, and looked into her eyes, and kissed her again, as we slowly danced.

It was time to arm the nuke.

I had to do it. I silently begged my friends to forgive me.

The music was slowly dying off and the lights were brightening slowly.

The principle told us thanks for coming, partys over go home.

I coughed loudly.

I reached into the suit jacket.

I pulled out a little box.

I got on my one knee.

"Wife, you are the prettiest, funniest, and smartest girl here."

Silence.

"Every day I am with you, is the best day ever."

Gasps.

"The thought of you not being around me hurts my heart deeply"

Utter shock.

"DONT DO IT, BRO!"

Tony, a good friend of mine shouted, and was silenced by Camilla, his would be wife and mother of his six children.

"Could I have the honor of..."

A teacher sniffed as parents, tired of waiting for their kids outside entered.

Both of our parents included. with cameras for the photo albums.

"You making me the happiest man of my life..."

More sniffles.

"By becoming my girlfriend."

NUCLEAR LAUNCH DETECTED.

The whole room went apeshit.

"Yes you big doofus."

She said yes and kissed me, then delivered a strong blow to my solar plexus.

She opened the box, and in it was a small gold heart pendant on a gold chain.

She put it on and cried to her friends.

Once I recovered I was a dead man.

I was now public enemy number one with the guys.

Word reached everyone before the day even ended.

An account of a high school party would make note of a salute of a middle school boy, as the little sister of the host of the party came home from the dance to tell everyone at the party what happened before locking herself in her room wishing her boyfriend was that romantic. Beers were raised and wine coolers shared. The Romance of the Bull and the Beauty had reached a new chapter.

That is how I ended up with a wife for life.

And that is how I also learned to kiss and dance too.

89% of this story is true, 10% was fluff and 1% was omitted or I would not be able to post it here. We did stuff, enough said.

Now if my wife decides to post her side of it, the only true parts that are shared between our versions is the fight, the kissing and birthday, and all the weird girl stuff. I was not trying to make it out like I was a big deal, but in a close knit neighborhood like the one I grew up in, everyone knew when you farted and could tell you what you ate. It was just how it was. 

View a list of all my stories here

To taste Heaven, one must play in Hell.