Wednesday, April 27, 2011
THE TRUTH ABOUT NORTH PARSONS BLVD: Volume I "
Part II 3 All In Chris could see the house up ahead he was about a half block away. There was dim light coming from her bedroom. He knew that window well as he often found himself there usually after the urgings of wolF. Sometimes he jacked his dick and sometimes he would just watch her. Things had been difficult since that asshole Law (what kind of fucking name is that?) showed up. Last week he found himself outside his favorite window and ended up watching in horror as some guy fucked his girl, his sweet heart, and his true love. He had tears streaming down his face as he jerked off in the bushes. The mu-fuckas name was Law and he knew that because Maddy called that name numerous times as they fucked. He told wolF over and over that the pussy boy couldn't ever fuck her like he could. wolF only laughed hysterically looking at the ground with his hands stuffed into his black Dickies. Chris wondered how the scene must've looked from afar. Two niggas peeping into a window watching people having sex and one of them jerking off in the bushes to boot! The truth was he had deposited enough sperm in that spot over the last six months to easily populate a small country. One night he thought that Maddy's kooky neighbor Ms. Vuygent saw him on the side of the house. It was late and he was in his usual spot and he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to his left and saw the woman across the street checking her mailbox. It was like eleven thirty at night! Why was she checking her damn mailbox? Chris was startled and he hugged the wall hoping his dark clothing would camouflage him in the dark. He saw the woman bend to peer into her mailbox then stand up straight and glance over her right shoulder toward the spot he was standing in. Did she see me? He was still and scared to death because wolF didn't move. WolF stood out in plain sight with his hands in his pockets as he always did. Chris watched in silence as the woman slowly made her way up to her front door and back into her house. He swore she glanced over her shoulder again before she disappeared into the house. Chris' breath came out in a rush as he had been holding it almost the whole time. He ran all the way home never looking back or stopping until he was in his room. He was relieved and noticed he was shaking all over as adrenaline coursed through him like a narcotic. His fucking nerves were shot! He had never been so scared in his life. He had to build his nerve up over the next few weeks to actually return to his favorite spot outside Maddy's window. Now here he was making that all too familiar trip and he could feel butterflies doing loop patterns like WWII fighter pilots in his stomach. It seemed as if the closer he got to her house, the more pilots joined in the aerial parade taking place in his guts. He thought he might vomit before it was all said and done. He remembered he felt the same way the day he met wolF. In his memory he could see wolF standing in that circle of people, and he began to drift. The last thing he remembered was the screaming taunting voices all raging at the same time and feeling like he was going to vomit like he felt now... "Hey! Ssstay with me here! We can't afford to have you in sssome hazy fucking day dream Pusssy Boy! Now, ssstep it out Chrisss we're almossst there.", wolF commanded from behind him. When he heard that voice he snapped to attention. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his familiar companion trudging along trailing him with his hands inside his pants pockets. He turned back and continued walking. He looked down at the outfit he was wearing and frowned. Where the hell did wolF get this get up from? Cavi; it was a brand he had never heard of, but everything except the boots were sporting the gold embroidered logo. Everything felt too loose except the Timberland boots, but none of it was his style. Who was he k**ding? He didn't have style. The clothes reeked of some cologne that his nose didn't approve of. The smell only added to his nervous nausea. To top it off there was a stain on one of the pants legs near the hem. He couldn't tell what it was in the dark, but it bothered him just the same. The neighborhood was usually quiet when it was engulfed in darkness. Chris thought he heard a dog barking to his left in the distance and then another responding to the first to his right. As the dogs spoke to one another he reached the edge of Maddy's yard. He stopped and eyed the window that was about twenty yards away. He saw the dim light in the window snap to darkness. What if the pussy boy was there again and they were fucking? He wasn't sure if he could take that again. It was one of the worst experiences in his short sixteen year life. It ranked up there with the time his mom came into his room with fresh laundry and caught him playing with himself. He could feel the dull thud of a headache building behind his eyes again (no water). How he wished he could forget. He could almost see himself that terrible day... ...His boxers at his ankles he lay back on his bed clutching an old issue of Players magazine that he had fished out of his dad's sock drawer. His dad didn't know it was missing and if he did he hadn't said a thing for about two years. His favorite model was a beautiful light skinned woman. He would imagine that the Moroccan woman in the pictorial was one of his teachers and she had caught him cheating on his test and asked him to stay after class. He'd be sitting in his desk looking glum as she walked over and locked the class room door. "Lucky for you this is my conference period young man.", she would say without looking at him. "I am going to give you a re-test right now, and I'll keep this incident between us. It just so happens, that I have a second test that I use for other classes so that you 'slick parkers'(sneaky k**s) don't play it wise and try and cheat, sharing answers with each other between classes." "Yeah, lucky", he would respond. She would hand him the test and say that he should hurry, as it was his lunch period and he didn't want to go hungry. She would always walk away in that wonderful way she moved. Chris was hypnotized by her in his mind. In the pictorial she was pictured in a desert setting near a crystal clear pool of water. Chris always assumed it must be the photographer's idea of an oasis. There was a camel in the background kneeling near a palm tree. The woman wore an outfit that made him think of some of the old 'I Dream of Jeanie' re-runs he'd seen before on TV Land. She was very pretty. Her eyes especially held his attention even though she was completely naked in most of the photos. Her eyes were large and had a special shape much different than most of the girls he knew. Her skin was the color of a black girl with fair skin but her hair and facial features were different. Her hair was long and silky, and her face had a different look than a black girl's. Her nose was narrower like one of the women that worked in the corner store near his cousin's house. He remembered the woman at the store saying that she was from some place called Jordan, a country in the Middle East. He figured it must be somewhere near Kuwait where the Army sent his dad before he was even born. The woman in the magazine had a body that was wonderful. He didn't think that he had ever seen a woman with a body like that. The first time he looked at the book he popped a boner so fast it kind of scared him. The more he looked at each page it seemed the harder his dick got. It got to the point that it was almost painful. When he found the magazine in his dad's sock drawer he was just scheming on a pair of socks because he was short himself and he knew they would find their way back in his dad's drawer after they were washed. He slid the drawer open and saw mostly dress socks but he was in search for some sweat socks. He'd feel ridiculous sporting black dress sock with his sneakers and shorts. He started fishing around in the drawer and that's when he spotted it. In the bottom of the drawer there was a magazine. His fingers clutched it and he pulled it out into full view. The picture on the cover told it all. There was a pretty black girl standing naked except her thigh high striped stockings and a camera with a long lens hanging from her neck. The title was: Players. It was a 'pictorial special edition' 1988. Chris looked over his shoulder feeling like a spy and then headed to his own room for further inspection of his find. Then he flipped the page and there she was. The magazine said her name was Mahlen Rashad. Her titties were round and the nipples were dark. He loved the dark part around her tits. His friend Cole said: you call them areolas. Her areolas were large in comparison to the entire breast and looking at them stirred his dick. Her tits stood up. They weren't sagging like his mom's friends or his Aunt Susan's. Her skin was a vibrant honey brown and beautiful. Even her feet were pretty. He was amazed, and night after night over the last two years in his fertile imagination he sat in the same classroom with her. "Get to work", she would command from her desk at the front of the room, giving him a nod. The fantasy was usually the same. He would finish his test quickly, almost too quickly. The answers would come to him with little or no thinking making it silly that he was cheating in the first place. After seven minutes he'd march down the row of desks to hers. She'd take the paper from him and dismiss him back to his seat with a wave of her slender hand. He would watch her as she graded the paper. Then suddenly she would get up from her desk and go to the black board and begin writing instructions for her next class. Her chalk would break in mid-stroke and fall slowly to the floor bursting into three pieces. She'd looked down at it irritated and then step back to her desk rummaging around in her top desk drawer. She would slide the drawer home and then step into her supply closet behind her desk. Then after a minute she would call for him from the closet. He would turn the corner and see her on an old step ladder with four steps on it. She was on the second step holding on to a supply cabinet for dear life. Chris figured she was trying to reach a box of chalk on top of the cabinet. "Chris do you think you can steady the step ladder for me?" "Sure Miss Rashad", he would say in the deepest voice he could conjure. "Be careful now. Please hold it steady for me. Put your foot on the bottom step. That will make it easier for you." "Okay, I've got it Miss Rash-" He always cut his words off in mid-sentence right there because that's the exact moment that he notices. Once he sees the words get lost somewhere in his young throat. To hold the step ladder steady Chris places his foot on the bottom step. He also bends over to hold the ladder on either side just for good measure. While in this position he notices that he can see clear up his teacher's short skirt, and the kicker is she has no panties on! Now, almost instantly, he has a huge hard-on which is very noticeable in his Docker slacks. He never takes his eyes off Miss Rashad's round ass or the pussy lips he has a slight view of. Miss Rashad starts down the ladder and he backs up a step or two as she grabs the ladder to fold it and set it aside. When she turns to exit the closet she sees Chris standing there with a raging hard- on leaving a huge print in his pants! She's shocked at first, pausing not saying anything. Her eyes go from the obvious bulge back up to his smiling face. "Um, Chris is there something wrong? I mean there is something going on but what is it?" "No, there’s nothing Miss Rashad." "Chris, look at your pants! You're aroused. I can see your erection." "Oh, that... yeah of course Miss Rashad you do that to me sometimes", he replies coolly. "Chris, what do you mean I do that to you sometimes?" "I mean when I see your naked ass with no panties on it makes my dick hard as fuck...", he spurts, then catches himself, "...um, Miss Rashad." "You were looking up my skirt while I was on the ladder? What are you a little pervert or something?” her voice gets louder. "No Ma’am, not at all. Of course not! I just think you're hot and you have a nice body and a beautiful face.” he returns smiling. Miss Rashad looks at Chris as if for the first time. He's tall, about six foot one. His skin was about the same color as hers. His hair was in corn rows. He had a handsome face and beautiful pearly whites as he stands there smiling at her playing coy. She could also tell he had been working out. "Do you know what to do with that thing?” she says pointing toward his zipper. "What do you mean?” he says acting confused grabbing his zipper, "this just goes up and down like this." "Do you know what to do with that erection you're sporting? That shit has to be like ten inches...Jesus Christ!" Chris is always in semi- shock at hearing her speak in that manner. "Well I....” he stutters. "You're a virgin aren't you?” she asks. “Well technically I..." "Let me... may I see it? Just for a moment. Just go ahead and pull your dick out, Hun", she purrs with sin in her beautiful eyes. Before he knows it his dick is bobbing in midair in front of his imaginary teacher. Her eyes seem twice their already tremendous size as she ogles his young meat, looking as if she's about to drool on herself. She drops to her knees and wraps her lips around the massive organ struggling to fit it in her mouth because of its extra girth. "Shit, your dick is so damn thick", she says smiling up at him as she cocks her head sideways to suck on his balls. The fantasy was always the same and it would end with him exploding semen in the middle of her face and the second spurt ending up in her pretty silky hair, but she never minded it. The third spurt would land in a ribbon across her forehead. It would all end with her squeezing the excess cum up the shaft and into her awaiting mouth. She was always so happy, smiling and looking up at him like he just did her some huge favor. The day when his mom walked in on him Miss Rashad had just opened her pretty mouth to catch his load. Her skirt was hiked up and she was fingering that tight twat she had. Two fingers had disappeared from her hand buried so deep in her hole she was probably massaging her own heart. Chris thought the door was locked. He always locked the door for his 'personal time' and would later curse himself for forgetting to do so. When the door opened it took his mom a second or so for her eyes to adjust. She couldn't understand why Chris had to have it so damn dark in his room any way. She bought some nice curtains for his room and he snatched them down and put heavy blankets in their place. The blankets did nothing for the room and let in absolutely no light. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark she was able to see her son lying back on his bed with his engorged member in his hand and the first spurt of cum leap from the large engorged head of his massive dick. It was almost as if the scene was in slow motion. She would later comment to her s****r Susan that she never saw a dick that big in real life. She realized that music was playing and he had probably turned it up to cover his own moans. In those few seconds she was able to examine the whole scene. Chris' eyes were tightly shut as he visited ecstasy for that brief moment. It was weird but she found herself almost romanticizing in the moment. She would struggle later to understand her fascination. She figured it must be her missing her own youth and the things that came along with it. She would never be able to erase the image of her son with his big ass dick in his hand. Another ribbon of semen leaped into the air landing to his left on the comforter she got him a week before. As his body pumped the baby juice out of his balls Chris put on a wide open performance for his mom without knowing it, complete with expletives. In that moment she could see her boy so satisfied and free and a part of her longed for that freedom. The freedom of not knowing what the cruel world had to offer and what it wouldn't. The freedom to believe in that ‘first love’ that would probably leave his heart torn in two if not more than that. The freedom to be naïve. She craved that youthful innocence and she watched it symbolically squirting in the air from her boys engorged organ. Once he opened his eyes and realized he wasn't alone Chris wouldn't be able to escape the shame. His mom couldn't understand why she didn't just turn right back around and exit his room. She tried to make Chris feel better about the whole thing but eventually she accepted that he'd have to get past it on his own. Chris wanted to forget the whole thing had happened not knowing that it happened to almost every male one time or another in their lives. He wasn't aware that he would later forget that it ever happened at all along with many other things that took place in the cul de sac that was North Parsons Blvd. So now he had two terrible moments in life on his list, but he was sure that seeing his dream girl getting the shit fucked out of her was far worse in the scheme of things. wolF tried to explain that he had a negative mind so he always saw things in a negative manner. "Shit, look at it thisss way, you sssaw your dream girl butt assss naked getting the shit fucked out of her. True, you weren't doing the fucking but damn...you one ssstep clossser! Mossst mu-fuckasss don't get that clossse to their dream bitch, k**! That leavesss jussst one hurdle to overcome my nigga....." As Chris reached the side of the house he paused with his back to the wall. He was attempting to compose himself. He was sure that his life would never be the same after the next few moments and he couldn't stop his poor heart from racing, but he was hoping he could slow it a bit with some controlled breathing and concentration. After a few moments he could tell it was working. He was beginning to become calmer. He took one last deep breath and pulled the ski mask over his face he looked over at his accomplice briefly and he saw wolF had already donned his own mask, and then he turned and reached for the window. It slid easily into the up position and he negotiated the opening with the grace of a squirrel. wolF watched as his friend disappeared through the window. His face wasn't visible but his broad smile could be seen through the small mouth hole in the knitted material. Then like a flash he too disappeared through the window. Funny, because his hands never left his pants pockets, and he couldn't see it but Chris was smiling too. Go figure.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.