Little Sexy

I wasn't at all that happy about it, but it was one of those things you get conned into doing even thought you don't want to. It was one of those things you are supposed to do simply because you are 'family.' My niece Shelly was getting married and my entire family were after me to attend. It didn't seem to matter to them that I hadn't seen Shelly in over ten years and I wouldn't know her if she walked up to me on the street. They wanted me there because the rest of the family would be there and they all wanted to see me. The rest of the family would all be there because they all lived within thirty miles of the church while I was fifteen hundred miles away, but the bottom line was that I wasn't at all sure that I wanted to see them.

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I did not want to go and it had nothing to do with the distance I would have to travel. It had to do with 'family.' There was a reason I hadn't seen my niece in ten years. I hadn't seen any of my family in ten years and that suited me just fine. There were fifteen hundred miles between them and me on purpose. I had deliberately put those miles between us and I was happy with that distance and if my company would have had a place I could transfer to that was even farther away I would have gone there. I loved that distance and I wanted to keep it.

Why, you ask? Because I hold a grudge like no one you ever met before. They say an elephant never forgets, but I put elephants to shame when it comes to remembering people who have wronged me. I don't forget and I very rarely forgive.

Eleven years ago I caught my wife fucking her boss and I threw her ass out. She ran, not to her family, but to mine and they took her side. Mother, sisters, my brother and his wife and my dad - yes - even my father, all put the pressure on me to take the cheating whore back. Phone call after phone call; visit after visit the litany was always the same:

"She loves, she made a mistake, you are both young and you can survive this, she knows she was wrong and she regrets it. Forgive her, give her a chance" and on and on and on.

I didn't buy it and things became strained between my family and me. I stopped getting invitations to family gatherings, things like my Cousin Jane's wedding. Jane liked Helen (my whore wife) and in fact she was the one who had introduced us. They stayed good friends even after I had kicked Helen out, so Helen was invited to the wedding and I wasn't because I might have caused a 'disruption.'

My oldest sister stayed good friends with Helen and when my niece was christened I wasn't invited because Helen was there as Shelly's godmother.

The family let me know that I was a pariah and would remain so until I stopped being an asshole to Helen and took her back. Finally I'd had enough and I called a family meeting. Mom, dad, both sisters and their husbands and my brother and his wife were there and I laid it for them as clearly as I could.

"I caught Helen screwing her boss on my bed and in my house. Before I stormed into the room and broke his nose and cracked two of his ribs I'd heard enough to know that their affair had been going on since she went to work for him six months previous. Since Helen and I had only been married nine months that meant that she had been cheerfully hanging horns on me for two thirds of our marriage."

I looked around the room to see if any one was doing the math and it didn't appear that they were.

"Three months after we were married, still newlyweds and supposed to be madly in love with each other and still, for all intents and purposes honeymooning - while the bloom was still supposed to be on the rose - she is cheating on me, what was she going to do when we got used to each other and settled down? I don't know and I'm not hanging around to find out. She's gone; she's out, we are through and that is that. The cheating whore is history."

The words were not even out of my mouth when my mother said:

"I raised you as a Christian Rob and it is Christian to forgive. The poor girl made a bad mistake but she is young. She loves you and she wants your forgiveness so you can get back together."

Marlene, my oldest sister chimed in with, "She does love you Rob, we can all see that and I know that you know it too. You can work through this if you will just meet her halfway."

Then my father said, "She's young and confused Rob. She made a mistake and she knows it and she wants to make it up to you if you will just let her."

Then the rest of them all started telling me what a dick head I was being by treating poor Helen the way I was. Finally I'd had enough and I said:

"I am not taking the cheating whore back so it is decision time for all of you. You are either for me or against me. What's your choice, Helen or me?"

"That is no way to be Rob," my mother said, "Helen is always going to be welcome in my house. You made her family when you married her."

I looked at everybody there and asked them if they all felt the same way and they said they did.

"Fine. You made the choice and I don't want any of you to ever forget that - it was your choice."

I walked out of the house and one week later I was fifteen hundred miles away.

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For the next nine years I ignored them. I didn't send them Christmas cards. I didn't call them and if they called me I hung up on them. My dad flew into town one day and called me and asked me for directions to my place and I told him he had just caught me as I was leaving on an extended business trip and I hung up on him.

It was in the tenth year of my voluntary exile that I started getting strong feelers from the family wanting to find some way to heal the rift between us. Basically what it amounted to was that they were all swallowing their pride and admitting that I had been right - that I had known what I was doing all along.

In those ten years Helen had been married twice (not counting me) and each of those marriages had ended when she had been caught cheating. My family finally had to accept the fact that Helen was the unfaithful whore that I'd told them that she was. They finally accepted it, but it didn't change a thing as far as I was concerned. They had made their choice and their choice had not been me and I was never going to forget that.

Over the course of the next year everyone in the family made an attempt to bring me back into the fold but I wasn't having any of it. My brother and his wife flew out to Aspen to go skiing and he detoured to spend a day with me and used it to try and talk me into going back for a visit. Sorry, not going to do it. My younger sister and her husband stopped to see me on their way home from a vacation in California to work on me. Nope - way to busy to leave, don't have the time.

Then I got the call from my sister Marlene telling me that mom's health was failing and that she was doing poorly and that I should come back.

"She misses you Rob and it is breaking her heart that you won't see her or talk to her. Come home Rob; she isn't in the best of health and seeing you would do her a world of good. Shelly is getting married next month and that gives you an excuse to come. Please Rob, come back for Shelly's wedding."

In the end I gave up the fight and drove back to Ohio for the wedding, the wedding that might - only might mind you - heal the break between my family and me, but which definitely led to the most bizarre experience of my life.

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The company I work for is based in Akron. I'd been having some payroll problems so I decided to stop at the home office on the way to my parent's house in Cuyahoga Falls. I was driving down South Arlington Street and there was a truck in front of me and something fell off the back of it. I swerved to avoid whatever it was, but hit it anyway. I felt the 'thump' and then heard the bang that told me I had just blown a tire. There was a Wal-Mart a half block away on the corner and after I put my spare on I drove to it to buy a new spare and to get an oil change while I was at it. They told me there would be a two hour wait so I decided that as long as I was there I might as well pick up a few things that I needed.

I was looking through a rack of slacks that were reduced in price when I noticed a little girl watching me. Something about her drew my attention and a closer look showed that she was not a little girl at all, but a woman, a small woman, but a woman none the less and the blue vest told me that she worked there. I put her at about four foot eleven and a hundred pounds and my experienced eye told me that those one hundred pounds were very pleasingly distributed in a very sexy 34-24-36 package. She was a blonde, always a plus for me, but she wore it short which was kind of a turn off for me (not that I would have run from her).

For some reason I'd caught her attention and every time I looked her way I saw her watching me. Was my fly open? I checked and it wasn't. Did I fit the profile of a shoplifter? Did she think she knew me from somewhere? She didn't look old enough to have known me or to have seen me around before I left town. Hell, maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe she had an assigned area to watch and I just happened to be in it. Easy enough to check. I moved across the aisle to the sweaters and I saw her shift position so she could keep an eye on me.

I started moving around the store to see what she would do. If I ventured out of sight of her station at the dressing rooms counter she moved with me. I went over to the shoe section and was looking at a pair of tennis shoes when she showed up at the end of the aisle and began rearranging boxes. I went over to the aisle where they had the pots and pans and other cooking utensils and I hadn't been there a full minute when she appeared in the adjoining aisle and began moving around some things on the shelves.

She was most definitely watching me, but why? I was just cranking myself up to go up to her and ask her what was the deal when I was paged on the store public address system and told that my car was ready. I hung the frying pan I was looking at back on the rack, cast a last look at the sexy little blonde and then I went and picked up my car.

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I was heading for one of the exits onto Arlington when all of a sudden I just had to know what she was doing. I knew it would bug me for the rest of my life if I didn't find out. I pulled into a parking spot and went back into the store. She was behind the counter talking to another girl when I walked up and said to her:

"I need to talk with you in private." I pointed at the closest changing booth and said, "How about in there?"

"Sorry, only people trying on clothes can go in there."

"Fine. I can handle that," I said and I went over to the rack of slacks and grabbed a pair and went back to the counter.

She took the slacks out of my hands, looked at them and said, "These won't fit you. I'd guess you as a thirty-six and these are thirty-two."

I went back to the rack and got a pair of thirty-twos and went back to the counter. She turned and said something to the other girl, got the key and unlocked the changing room and followed me inside. I turned to her and said, "I want to kno..." and she put her left hand over my mouth and said, "Hush" and her right hand went to my belt. I saw a twinkle in her blue eyes as she said:

"This is a changing room, so change."

She took her left hand away from my mouth and then used both hands on my belt and zipper, "Come on" she said, "Help me here, we don't have much time."

I still didn't have a clue as to what was going on, but I wasn't stupid and when her hand had gone to my zipper my cock had gone to the upright and locked position. She noticed and rubbed the bulge with her hand. At that point the only thing that mattered was to get out of my pants. She slipped out of her jeans while I was getting out of mine and when my pants hit the floor and my hard cock was waving in the air she pushed me backward until I ended up sitting on the wooden bench seat.

"Not a word" she whispered as she pushed my legs together, turned her back to me and then straddled my legs. She took hold of my cock with her right hand and guided me into her as she sat down. She gave a grunt as the head of my cock entered her and then she slammed herself down on me. She was so little that her feet barely touched the floor. She leaned forward and picked my boxers up off the floor, wadded them up and stuffed them in her mouth and then she put her hands on my knees to brace herself and she fucked me.

She raised and lowered herself on my pole, she rocked back and forth and every so often she would slam herself down hard on my cock and I do have to admit that I was loving it. Because of the way I was sitting I was able to do much to help, but then I don't think that she even wanted my help. This was her show and she was doing it the way she wanted.

She was fucking me hard and the moans and groans and grunts were getting louder and louder, but the boxers still kept them quiet enough that anyone outside the booth wouldn't hear. And I had to assume that her coworker would knock on the door if we needed to quiet it down some. Another minute went by and then she seemed to almost go into a frenzy. She raised up and rammed herself down several times and then she had her orgasm. Her feet came up off the floor, her hands left my knees as she sat up straight and then she shook like a rag doll being shaken by a dog as she came and came and came. Ten seconds later I erupted into her like a geyser.

My last spurt wasn't even out of the end of my cock when she got off me, tossed me my boxers and started pulling on her jeans. I used my boxers to clean myself up as I asked her:

"Just what the hell happened here?"

"It's called a zipless fuck sweetie. I read a story on the Internet about two weeks ago about two people who met briefly, fucked and then went on their way without either one of them knowing the name of the other. I've thought about it every day since and wondered what it would be like. When you came in this morning I saw you, liked your looks and wondered what it would be like with you. So I followed you around and fantasized. You left and I said oh well, an opportunity lost and then you came back and I just had to go for it. Now I know. It was fabulous, a real turn on and I just had one of the best orgasms of my life. Now don't ruin it for me. Don't say anything, just get dressed and go" and she left the changing booth.

When I came out she was still there, but her back was to me and as much as I wanted to talk I decided to give her what she wanted, but before I walked away I went up behind her and said:

"No names sweetie, but I have to call you something when I remember this moment so I'm going to call you "Little Sexy."

Without turning she said, "Little Sexy, I like it and in my memories I call you Mystery Man."

As I pulled out onto South Arlington Street I had no idea how my family reunion was going to go, but I knew for an absolute certainty that I was never going to forget the trip.