Love is for Suckers

First, Tracy at forty six years old, didn't look like she was even out of her thirties let alone pushing fifty. Her husband, Cliff, was ten years younger than she was and they'd had a baby together only a couple of years ago. The baby was their fourth child. Tracy had another daughter named Amber, by her previous husband and they were also raising Cliff's two children by his previous wife.

Looking at Tracy just amazed me. She was maybe two inches taller than me at five foot four and thinner than I am too. But her boobs were as big as mine. I made up my mind then that I was going to stick to the workout thing and start eating better too. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.

I also realized that Tracy, too, was a sucker. It just seemed like every other sentence was about her husband or mentioned him. What shocked the shit out of me was when she told me that her husband, Cliff, had actually killed her previous husband. It was a bizarre story with Cliff's previous wife getting caught fucking Tracy's previous husband. (read Boo if you haven't)

Tracy and I were just getting comfortable when Brandon came back in from the garage. He waved at Tracy as he went up to wash his hands.

Tracy looked at me and smiled. "Your eyes just lit up when he came into the room," she smiled.

"They did not," I snapped. And she just laughed at me.

"I have to go," she said. "Cliff and I are taking our kids to the spring flower show. We're going to stop back at McDonalds on the way back if they don't destroy any plants that we have to pay for. But I'll be back and probably often. You're fun to talk to."

"It looks like someone made a friend," said Brandon. "That's good. You and Tracy are a good match."

"She's so nice," I said.

"Yeah, but when you're as pretty as she is and built like she is, a lot of women are afraid of you," he said. "You on the other hand have nothing to worry about. You guys are about equal in terms of uhm...well you know and you don't have a husband to be jealous for."

I have you, dummy, I thought. That was the first time that thought had crept into my mind, but I knew it wouldn't be the last.

"Come on we're going shopping," he said. He surprised me again. He took me shopping at the mall. He let me pick out several outfits that I liked because he thought I needed more clothes. I tried not to spend a lot of money and just got practical things. Just before I thought we were done, he handed me his credit card and told me to go and get myself something that I wanted as a reward for saving him. He'd meet me back at the parking lot because he had to get something too.

When I met him back at the car he was smiling from ear to ear like a kid at Christmas. He didn't even look at the packages I was carrying. "Hey, you're walking funny," he said.

"I think I'm starting to feel those extra miles," I said. "I'm probably going to need a massage tonight."

Several of the people in the parking lot had been eavesdropping on us. When he'd said I was walking funny, their dirty minds gave them the wrong impression. The massage part fed their imaginations even more. Shit, I even wanted it to happen. Two of them, an older couple didn't turn away though. They marched right over to us.

"Hi, Brandon," said the woman sharply. I could tell on sight that the old bitch just didn't like me. And her husband was taking my clothes off in his mind. He never looked away from my tits during the whole conversation.

"Hello Miranda, Hi Simon," said Brandon. He reached out to shake the man's hand but they had difficulty grasping each other's hands because apparently Simon found my tits more interesting than Brandon's hand.

"Mona, these are Miriam's parents," said Brandon.

"Have you heard from her yet?" asked Miranda.

"No," said Brandon sadly.

"Well you're not making it any easier on her," snapped Miranda. "Who knows, she may be watching you and trying to decide whether it's time to come home to you yet. She may see you walking around with one of your students and get the wrong impression. Remember if you want her to come back to you someday, you need to let her know that you're ready."

This old bitch was crazy. She was trying to make Brandon feel bad and I got angry. "Maybe he got over her and doesn't give a fuck whether or not she comes back," I said.

Miranda looked like she'd tried to swallow a basketball and it had gotten caught in her throat.

"I mean, just between you and me, Miranda, your daughter was the one who messed up. Brandon could easily replace her with someone younger and fresher. And the way she left him was like something a whore would do. He's better off without her."

Miranda suddenly sucked in a breath and turned red. Her husband was trying not to laugh. And suddenly, even though he was still just staring at my tits, I liked the old guy.

Miranda was still sucking in big gulps of air and trying to come up with something to say. She looked like she'd gone to a formal dinner and found a steaming turd on her plate.

"She didn't realize how lucky she was," I continued. "She was especially lucky when you consider her uhm lack of assets. Not many men go for those bone thin stick figure types anymore and she was getting kind of long in the tooth."

Brandon grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the car. "I'm not one of his students anyway, we're living together," I said as he tried to pull me away faster. "It was nice meeting you," I screamed as he closed the door.

Brandon was seething. The whole drive home he never said a word. This was the first time I'd seen Brandon this way. I was sure he was angry but I couldn't tell why. Was he angry at that silly old woman or was he angry at me.

When I got into the house, I went and put my new clothes away. I looked at each thing except for the dress I'd bought. I didn't even dare look at it out of fear that I was dreaming again. Brandon went and put several packages of his own into the garage.

"What do you want for dinner Brandon?" I asked him as he came back ion from the garage. "I guess we should wait until after dinner for my massage."

"We'd better," he snapped.

"Why?" I asked. "I only wanted to wait because I love it when you massage me. I wanted to have dinner out of the way so I could enjoy it."

"Mona, if I did it now I'd probably still be angry and I'd end up spanking your ass the way you deserve," he said.

I don't know why I did it. I knew that there was something going on here that I didn't understand but I did it anyway. I just started laughing at him like he was crazy. It was almost as if I was trying to make him angrier to goad him into doing it. Before I even knew what was going on, Brandon had picked me up, carried me over to the sofa and sat down with me across his knee. I started wriggling as if I was trying to break free but I didn't do anything that would actually help me to get up. I also didn't say a word. I needed him to stay angry. I was sure that if I asked him not to do it, he'd stop.

Brandon raised his hand and swatted me on my ass and I just stopped moving. I felt so warm with his arms around me trying to keep me from getting away, when in reality I wouldn't have moved if he'd asked me to.

He swatted my ass again and I let out a little moan. I really believe that Brandon thought it hurt because the third swat was softer. The second swat had started my pussy to moistening and my nipples shot out like erasers. I was glad I wasn't wearing a skirt because if it came up he'd probably see the wet spot in my panties. I got really quiet as I waited for the next swat. My legs came a part a little and as his hand swatted my ass the momentum carried his fingertips against my jeans-covered vagina. I was in heaven. I involuntarily started to grind my crotch against his legs.

I was sure that I was going to cum if he kept it up. Have you ever been in one of those embarrassing situations where you're under a lot of stress and you realize that you smell and you need a shower? You hope that no one else can smell your odor but you can't just leave at that moment because you're at work or something like that. Well, that was how I felt. Every time I moved, I could smell my pussy. It was dripping and I hoped that Brandon couldn't smell it because I really didn't want it to ever stop. I'm sure that he thought about it in some stupid macho way like he was disciplining me. But to me, it was a special moment because Brandon had touched my ass of his own free will, so my massage would be different that night.

And wouldn't you know it, just before I reached the point of no return, he stopped. He let me up and I brushed off the back of my pants. "Brandon, I'm going to get you back for this," I sputtered. Then I looked at him and saw tears running down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Mona," he said. "I was just angry."

"Brandon, honey, it's fine," I said. I grabbed his chin and made him look at me. "Maybe I'm a little bit kinky, but I enjoyed it."

I took one of my fingers and wiped a tear from his cheek. I licked that finger. "Mm, salty," I said. "I wonder what else you have that maybe a little salty... And Brandon, I will get you back for this." he nodded and I went to make dinner. Before I started Brandon came into the kitchen and told me that he'd ordered pizza so I didn't have to cook. I smiled at him and told him that we'd eat the pizza, since he'd already ordered it, but I wanted him to know that I enjoyed cooking for him and taking care of him. He looked surprised. The pizza guy got there right on-time and I got glasses for our drinks and took them into the living room so we could relax and watch TV while we ate.

We started to sit but I pretended that my ass was too sore to sit on so I lay on my stomach on the couch. Brandon turned the TV on and we ate and watched world's dumbest criminals.

When we got done eating, I asked Brandon why he was so angry at me. He told me that Miranda was an old woman whose daughter had simply ran off to who knew where. Miriam was Miranda's only child so she was feeling the loss more heavily than any of us. If she wanted to make it seem like it was his fault that Miriam had run off, he could handle that burden if it made her pain any easier.

I explained to him that it was my job to take care of him and that as long as I could breathe and think, I would never let anyone hurt or insult him, whether they were an old lady or not. He smiled, but he told me to think about it as if I had a daughter and she'd done something like that. Parents never want to believe that their kids are the monster.

I stretched out like a cat on the sofa and pushed my shoulders back so my boobs stood out more. Then I asked him if I could have my massage. He came over to the couch and started on my shoulders.

"Brandon, you try to protect me too," I said as he rubbed.

"Mm," he said.

"Is that what you were doing this morning?" I asked. "When you put your jacket over me? It was a bit chilly and you didn't want anyone seeing my nipples standing out." I noticed that he stopped rubbing and his hands got to be more tense than my shoulders.

"That wasn't it," he said. "Look Mona..."

"So what was it?" I asked. "Am I just too ugly to be seen?" He started laughing and tried to change the subject.

I kept going back to it. Finally he just spat it out. "Mona, everything on the planet doesn't revolve around your chest. I was running behind you and I kept looking at your ass. Do you know how hard it is to run when your dick is sticking out like a God damned flag pole?"

I started laughing then. "I'm sorry Mona, but I'm a human too," he said.

"Brandon, I'd consider that a compliment and a step in the right direction," I said.

I settled back down and let his magic fingers do their walking. As he got to my lower back he had to spend more time there because the muscles were really knotted up. As soon as he heard me sigh and relax he skipped down to my legs.

"Wait, Brandon," I said. "We may as well do this right."

I stripped off my jeans and got back into position. I acted like being around him in just my panties was normal. In reality it was stressful for both of us. I wanted him to try something and he was afraid that he would. He got himself together and started to rub the back of my legs just above my knees.

"Uhm Brandon, you skipped the entire area from my lower back to where you are right now," I smirked.

"But, Mona," he said.

"No Brandon, not but, Mona, the correct pronunciation is Mona's butt," I said. "And don't act all squeamish now. You had no problems touching it a couple of hours ago when you spanked me. Do you want me to pull my panties down so you can see how red it is? It needs a little bit of TLC too."

Brandon started to rub my butt. It was the best feeling I'd ever had. I even spread my legs a bit hoping he could see what was under those panties. Almost too soon he started moving down my legs. Surprisingly, Brandon didn't do the fronts of my legs this time. But I had mercy on him and let him go. I was sure he'd left the room because he didn't want me to see the tent in his pants.

That night I was afraid of my dreams so I masturbated before I went to bed. The next morning I woke up happy and ran to see if Brandon was up. Not only was he up he was dressed. "It took you long enough," he said.

"Let me get changed," I said. Then I looked at him and realized that he wasn't dressed for our morning workout.

"Brandon, where are we going?" I asked.

"We're going to an auto parts swap meet," he said. My eyes lit up. And he looked at me like I was crazy. "Mona, you really don't have to go."

"Brandon, I really want to go," I said. And I did. The first reason was because I loved cars. And second because I just loved spending time with Brandon. I would happily sit and watch grass grow with him. Even as I thought it, I realized that it was true and that I was drawing ever closer to that line of demarcation between sucker and normal person.

We spent most of the day looking through displays of parts and sorting through bins of parts. They had a few cars there on display and I kept telling Brandon different things I liked about their paint and how I could have done a better job of waxing those cars.

Then Brandon bought a few parts. "Brandon, why are you buying those?" I asked. "That carburetor is for a 1969 Boss 302. Our Mustang has fuel injection."

"I'll tell you when we get home," he said. It never happened. When we got home he totally changed the subject.

"Mona, to thank you for spending time with me today, I'd like to take you out to dinner. It would be good for you to get out," he said. "Even if it is with an old fossil like me that is only a friend."

I think he must have missed the way my eyes lit up. "Do you have a nice dress you could wear?" he asked.

I dashed up the stairs and into the shower. I washed my hair and blow dried it before braiding it into one long braid over one shoulder. Then I did my makeup and put on the dress that I'd bought the day before. It was a tight silky Chinese dress that I wore with the cutest little flats you've ever seen. I left my legs bare. The dress was perfect. It emphasized the roundness of my butt and my tiny nipped in waist. The top section squeezed and barely contained my bust. When I came down the stairs Brandon was sitting on the couch snoring.

"Brandon, you faker," I screamed. "Get up and let's go."

"Is it still Saturday?" he mumbled. "Is it still April of 2012?"

Then he looked at me and his jaw dropped open. "Mona, you clean up really well," he said.

That dinner was magical. He took me to an Italian restaurant. I'd never been to a grown up restaurant before. We had wine with dinner and not that cheap liquor store stuff. For me the highlight of the evening was when Brandon asked me to dance. He took my hand and led me out on the dance floor. I didn't know how to dance but I faked it. We started the dance out a comfortable distance away from each other but I noticed there were some couples who danced closer to each other. I pulled Brandon in and smashed my tits against his upper tummy. That got an immediate reaction. It made me wish I was a few inches taller because as hard as he was, I could have pulled my dress up and he'd have slid right in. Having him pressed against me with his arms around me was magical, but at the same time it was maddening.

That was the moment I realized that I was a full-fledged, card carrying sucker. I hadn't learned anything from my dad's example or from Brandon's. I loved him. I wanted him badly and there was nothing I wouldn't do for him. The tragedy of the whole thing was that we both knew that he was still hung up on that bitch who'd dumped him.

We whirled around the floor holding each other tightly and I never wanted it to end. But things never end well for suckers. I knew that my happiness was fated to end in tragedy.

The dancing thing had never really been high on my list of priorities. I knew that a lot of people were always excited about going dancing and now I knew why. It wasn't the jangly, up and down, jerky motions practiced at most dance clubs by people my age that lit people's fire. It was the slow, romantic, rhythmic, motions and barely disguised dry humping that we were doing now. There was nothing really sexy about two twenty-something people wiggling their asses at each other from three feet away from each other. But this was something completely different. With every step I tried to mold myself to Brandon even closer.

If it had been possible, I'd have turned us from two people into one scary ass glob of melded humanity. My tits were flattened against him and my nipples hardened rapidly. His dick was getting harder by the second and he was uncomfortable with what we were doing. People started to watch us, because for all intents and purposes we were just dry humping in public. My breathing was becoming more and more ragged and our steps faltered. After a while, we were barely moving around the floor at all. We were just rubbing against each other. At the rate we were going, the next step would have been for us to start taking off clothing.

There comes a point when we all have to realize exactly how far we're willing to go for what we want. That dance was mine. I would have had no problem fucking him right there on that dance floor in front of all of those people. I wouldn't have minded getting arrested for doing it, or having my face and naked body plastered all over the newspapers and internet the next morning either. As a matter of fact, I wanted it. Maybe it would be a way of staving off what was rapidly becoming my greatest fear.

When I first moved in with Brandon, I worried about him killing himself stupidly, like my father did over a woman who wasn't ever going to come back and love him the way he deserved. After getting to know him and discovering that I had feelings for him myself, that had shifted to another fear. Now I only worried that the bitch would come back. Think about it. For a long time, I thought of people like Brandon and my father who wore their hearts on their sleeves as being suckers. Now I realized that I was only three words away from being one myself. And things never ended well for suckers.

Brandon finally pulled himself away from me with as much dignity as he could manage. He led me back to our table looking at me strangely. As we sat down at our table, another couple passed by us on their way to the dance floor. The woman looked at me and whispered, "Damn, somebody is getting some, TONIGHT."

"Whether he wants to or not," I said back. She laughed.

Brandon got the check and we drove home. I knew I had to put him at ease so I downplayed what had happened.

"I guess I got a little bit carried away," I said. "Sorry Brandon, but that was the best time I've ever had in my entire life. I know it was a little bit bad of me. But I just wanted to pretend for just a little while that someone, just once, loved me and wanted me. You know? I wanted to see what it would be like if I was the center of his world and really special to him. The way my mom was for my dad and Miriam is for you. If I can't do that with my best friend then who else do I have? It was only play acting Brandon."