Dirk and Roxy Pt. 01a

I arrived home after work from my eight to five dead end job, turning the key off in my pickup. My knee hurting like hell and the brace making it more unbearable. The constant reminder of how my life is versus what could have been. I was the star running back in high school until that fateful evening. I have nightmares watching the play in my head, in slow motion even. I was handed the ball as always, the hole was there, I made a cut up field and then the searing pain, the knee collapsed and hit by the linebacker at the same time. Tore it up pretty bad, the doctors said I would be fine until they started digging. Two surgeries later and they shook their heads, it would never be right and the best they could do.

The best they could analyze what happened, the ACL ripped on the cut, the MCL tore on the hit with cartilage damage to go with it. All I remember, the knee swelled up like a balloon and hurt like hell. The undetected concussion causing memory loss a few days later. Water under the bridge, my dreams of a good college and scholarship out the window. The only way I would ever be able to attend college, full time anyway. Fucking frustrating and only part of my problems!

I did take classes at the community college once I saved enough for a class or two but getting no where fast. Twenty-four and a years worth of meaningless college classes over the six years since I graduated. The rate I was going I would be retired or wheel chair bound before I graduated. Yeah, I could get student loans and stuff, but think about it, bad knee which could get worse and is, limits what I could be good at which I don't even know. Psychiatrist was out for sure the way my sorry ass head worked. I heard horror stories about the loans also, big bills that have to be paid off eventually. What was the use? I just couldn't see the light at the end of the very dark tunnel and I was down on myself as well.

I knew my disposition is because of the pain as I opened the door and nearly fell on the driveway that needed fixed. Yard needs mowed, what little there is, bushes across the front of the porch had grown up unsightly and couldn't even see the railing anymore or the windows for that fact. I bought the place real cheap because it was run down and storm damaged to begin with. My childhood friends, the ones that tried to help and put up with me, fixed it up slowly and made it rather livable, now, they are almost all gone or chased away. Small two bedroom and much cheaper than an apartment at least.

No wife or girlfriend either. The last one left six months ago saying I needed to get over myself. She was tired of being treated like a maid and whore and wanted to be treated like a woman. She had a lot of room to talk, always drunk or high. She was just using me to have a roof over her head until something better came along. Not sure what came along and I didn't care. The story of my life where women are concerned since my accident. Before then was a different story I think, well flashbacks seem to tell a different confusing story. I chased the only meaningful relationship away five years ago, she deserved better than me. Well, I think it was a relationship I can't seem to recall now.

What to do this weekend to get over my dull life? I pondered, looking over the mess I should clean up and probably couldn't or most likely wouldn't. Something that doesn't involve watching TV for a change. I could get Kelly to do the yard for twenty bucks, the bushes would be out of the question.

That was the first thing I did, she would take care of it sometime during the weekend and gave her the money. Two doors down, Kelly was always needing money to buy clothes, life of an active eighteen year old. In her senior year of high school and going to the football game, almost made me cry. I wish I was in high school again, just so I could date Kelly. She wasn't all that beautiful on the outside but turned heads, inside was different and alluring. I still considered her jail bait, not sure why. I remembered her telling me she was a year behind in school because of her parents, something about not sending her to kindergarten and they wouldn't make an exception. It was more than likely a communication problem if you ask me.

She would gladly take thirty minutes out of her life to mow the yard, front and back. That is how easy it is, an extra fifteen minutes if the weed eater was involved. She took pity on me because she knew I couldn't do it myself. I helped her with other things as well, like working on her old beater of a car. She came to me a lot because her parents were deaf mutes and I was still young enough to understand her problems from a grown up point of view. Not sure I really helped all that much to tell the truth and where most of my painful flashbacks come from that make little or no sense.

I came limping back needing to get the brace off thinking of what to do. The local watering hole was getting boring and tired of drowning my sorrows in beer. I could go camping and fishing out at the lake, eh, fishing is relaxing and sporting but I am allergic to eating fish. Funny, some people are allergic to shell fish but I am just the opposite, go figure. Then again, shell fish isn't popular with me either. I have wondered if that was real or imagined also as I don't have any recollection until after my accident.

Rent a cabin out in the woods, those were cheap and solitary for the most part. Roast some dogs, take a slow nature walk, go to the water falls and watch the water run down hill. Idly watch the grass grow basically, good for my knee also. Um, well, resting the knee in the stream helped, the coldness I assume, always felt wonderful afterward. That seemed like an exceptional idea. Dogs, buns, soda, beer and the little packages of ketchup and mustard I always accrued for just this purpose, free stuff you know. I always gather up usable free stuff.

Oh, shit. Bride and Groom party tomorrow, almost forgot. So much for going anywhere. I don't know why they sent me the invite or why I accepted even. My knee doesn't allow me to dance the two step let alone swing.

I made my way up the three steps to the porch, mail in the box, junk I hope as I reached to sort through it quickly. Keys in hand to unlock the door, opening the squeaky screen, something else to make a mental note on, oil the fucking hinges. That is when I heard the muffled cry. I looked over, the ass of a tanned skin woman on her knees, hands with leather black wrist cuffs locked behind her back. Black leather collar around her neck, double ended snap chain leash wrapped around the railing, clipped back so it couldn't be undone without help. Ball gag wrapped around her head keeping her silent. Wearing a two piece white bikini that covered, well, nearly nothing. Her rather big tits had fallen out and hanging down, and her big round nipples sticking out like the end of a pool stick needing chalked.

"Not again" I muttered. "How many damn dyslexic people live in this forsaken fucking town! This is 189, not 981." I further muttered bemoaning the facts. This is what, the third time now. They can't even get the direction of the street right, hell the address is over two miles away. Throws the dyslexic people off because there is no 189 on the south end. At one time, the town used be two separate villages that grew together, many streets have a direction to signify the difference, a couple run in different directions even.

I found out the people at the other end run a slave pen, that is what I call it anyway. They train people to be slaves, fetish, fantasy or whatever. Who knows why, but they do a pretty good business, legit I guess. Big fancy house and cars. Well, not that fancy, an old landmark two story house, five or six bedroom I think. Just kept better than the surrounding dwellings and the interior is immaculate with polished oak wood floors and woodwork. I know, been in it twice with the messed up deliveries. Almost called the cops the first time until the woman explained and I still didn't believe her. Those ones had always been dressed, very, very sexily in leather, not nearly naked like this one. I never understood the drop and leave part though. The second time I was going to call a taxi and thought better of it.

Better get this one out of view quick before someone sees, well, somewhere I can talk to her. I unhooked the leash and pulled her inside, she had to crawl as she couldn't get up. Once I got her in the door I waited til she could sit on the couch. I think she was stiff from waiting so long. I told her I would be right back. I had to piss like a race horse and ran to the bathroom like a lame horse. I took the brace and my pants off as well, a little comfort. I need my ice bag from the freezer. I doubt she will mind me running around in my boxers. Of course, I hoped John Henry didn't get excited and make an ugly appearance.

She was a very cute woman, twenty maybe. I thought Indian at first, Bollywood style, but after she sat down and got a good look at her face I realized she might be black instead, well biracial. What is the politically correct term? Well, hell, not exactly sure if there is one. Regardless, very good looking with the soft fluffy long black hair which is what threw me off to begin with. Sure makes a difference to this lightly tanned white boy, I thought laughing. Doesn't make a difference to me as I am not exactly prejudice because of the color of a persons skin. To me, an asshole is an asshole, a friend is a friend, no matter how you look at it and the way I view people.

That may sound silly given my history but there were times that I still had problems remembering from one day to the next though mostly behind me now. That is what drove a wedge between my old friends and I. If I heard, "Don't you remember?" it caused me to go ballistic because it was so frustrating that I couldn't, sometimes day to day even back then. Okay, how do I handle this?

I had looked her over, thirty-six C or D maybe, twenty-four, thirty-six and about five five, sculpted ass and beautiful legs. What a package! One hundred thirty pounds or in that neighborhood and well toned. Nicely manicured and somewhat long fingernails and toes done in french tips, size seven foot probably. How I knew this information by just a look, I didn't actually know, it just comes to me.

I sat down in the my comfy chair and put the ice bag on my knee. She was trying to tell me something but I didn't want to remove the gag yet. I needed to make her understand first, my hot knee feeling the effects of the cooling coldness immediately.

"I am not going to hurt you. I need to tell you a couple things first. Nod your head up and down if you understand?" I said calmly. She nodded her head up and down rapidly.

"First, you have been delivered to the wrong address by mistake. Whoever dropped you off is either dyslexic or stupid, take your pick, maybe both. I am going to take the gag off, please don't scream." I informed her. Her eyes got big when I said that but seemed calm enough and she nodded her head up and down rapidly. I didn't think when I said it, I may have dissed someone important in her life, something I have a bad habit of doing without realizing it most generally.

I winced in pain when I got up from my knee and set the bag on the armrest. I unbuckled the gag and slowly removed it. Stuck to her succulent lips when I removed it and she quickly licked them with her tongue.

"Feel better? Need some water?" I asked realizing the dry mouth syndrome. She nodded her head up and down again. I limped to the fridge for a cold bottle of water. I helped her take a few swallows, she licked her lips again and I gave her some more water not wanting give her too much too fast.

"Thank you so much." She said hoarsely.

"How long have you been out there?" I asked realizing it wasn't just a little while after sitting back down with my ice bag in place.

"Three hours maybe." She replied.

"I don't have the keys to your padlock. I have no choice but to deliver you to the right address shortly." I explained disgustingly but needed her to settle a little before giving her more water.

"I know where the key is. I was kind of kidnapped and brought here by accident." She said calmly.

"I will call the police!" I said stunned, starting to get up.

"Don't, please. Stupid prank and those fucking bitches will get theirs soon enough." She said vindictively.

"Okay, if that is what you want. So where is the key?" I asked relaxing again as there were no hiding places I could tell. If I called the cops, how would I explain this unbelievable situation?

"Um, well, er, in my cunt." She squeaked out embarrassingly.

Time for my eyes to shoot wide. Good thing I wasn't drinking a beer or I would have spewed it everywhere. Now it is time for me to fall all over my tongue. Her lovely tits were a wonderful sight but as I looked between her now spread legs, oh my. Yeah, the thong or whatever she was wearing was pulled up into her pussy, shaved, with nice fat separated pussy lips. Remember John Henry, he was doing fine until that point and I couldn't control him now. That one long gazing look went straight to my pleasure center and right to John Henry.

"That got a rise." She giggled.

"Girl, you could make the dead rise. I am Dirk, by the way." I said with praise.

"Roxanne, call me Roxy though." She laughed.

"Yeah, you made John Henry Roxy alright." I said getting the meaning of her joking laugh. At least she has a sense of humor I thought.

"Can you get the key? My shoulders are killing me." She said laughing and thinking he is cute and muscular, wondering about his swelled knees with all the scars.

"You sure? Um like, well, there is no other choice I suppose." I said gulping.

"You will need to find the plastic ring to pull the balls out." She instructed.

Roxy moved her ass closer to the edge of the couch and spread her legs wider. Not much choice, and John Henry was excited. Actually I was excited, so erotic and unreal. My hands were trembling moving the little piece of cloth out of the way and she was wet, more than wet, soaking. I moved my index finger up her wet slit hoping the ring would be right there, it wasn't but my finger is coated with her juices and slid easily. My finger hit her button, she closed her legs with a slap, trapping my hand, she grunted and groaned and rocked on my hand.

"That feels so good." She said straining breathlessly and highly aroused.

I didn't know what to do. My excitement won out as I tickled her with my finger again. Her nub was hard and protruding and she started writhing from the action. "Don't stop." She stated gasping out of control. She cried out as her orgasm overwhelmed her soon after. She fell back in the couch, panting, her legs went limp and opened wide again.

I just stared at her, her pussy soaking wet and coated creamy white now. I went on autopilot, ignoring the pain in my knee, licking her juices with my tongue and mouth, not even thinking. The sweet aromatic smell, the sweet acrid taste of her honey pot. My tongue hit the plastic ring but I was more interested in licking her clean and teasing her further which didn't take long as her legs clamped around my head. Resting my hands on her soft ass globes ground down into the couch like I didn't want her escaping.

Her soft moans, her legs clamping and releasing. The sudden jerk when my tongue teased her hard protruding fat bean. Her upward thrust when my tongue dived deep into her hot snatch finding the plastic ring. Again, she got off in a myriad of joyous scrams, groans and grunts. She is panting hard and looked like a sleeping doll this time when I looked up.

I had found the ring and pulled gently with my teeth. More pleasuring sounds from her lips as the first ball appeared, stretching her cunt and a knee jerk reaction, then the second and finally a third came plopping out.

"Oh gawd, put your cock in me. Fuck me like the nympho slave slut I am." She wailed like a command.

I didn't have to be told twice, John Henry was more than ready and willing. I moved her so she laid on the couch, I climbed on and sunk balls deep instantly. I am no monster, but my crown is much bigger than the balls I pulled out. I am excited and hadn't had sex in a long time, this isn't going to be a marathon. I lasted maybe five minutes before I slammed her deep and pushed an ungodly amount of my man juice inside her. It was enough for her as she clamped her legs around me and went rigid bucking wildly, screaming in another shaking orgasm of her own, more than one maybe.

We held that position for another five minutes at least, her pussy hugging and squeezing every drop John Henry had to offer. Damn, that is the best sex I have ever had I thought and John Henry wanted more. I wonder if her arms are alright? Must be, she wasn't complaining, my knee pain was being overridden as well for the time being. I stood beside her head as I needed to roll her over, her eyes closed, mouth open still breathing hard between her lips. John Henry was on those lips in a heart beat, the mouth opening taking me in. The swirl of her tongue so relaxing and teasing. She cleaned our combined juices like sucking from a wet rag. She is no pro at sucking cock, that is easy to tell. No face fucking here for sure as she could barely take half of me. What she could do though, was better than most of the girlfriends I ever had that I could remember anyway. She didn't mind licking all the frothy cum from my dick either. Those sparkling deep brown eyes looking up at me. The smile on her lips and face as I backed off not forcing the issue.

"Damn! If those bitches could see me now." She said with a condescending laugh.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I was only suppose to be teased without release all weekend as punishment. Now I have had six of the most beautiful orgasms of my life, three of them so very intense." She said quaintly.

"Why are you being punished?" I asked wonderingly.

"They caught me masturbating to a porno on the computer." She replied sheepishly.

"So you deserved what they had in mind?" I asked not understanding.

"Not really, but that is the way they saw it. No control and the type of sex I like." She replied.

"I guess I am in the dark here. Though you are not begging to be released." I said confused, showing her the string of balls. I finally noticed one of them looked like it had been cut open and glued back together. I shook it and heard the key rattle inside.

"Want me to save it or break it?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders with an I don't care attitude. "As long as it gets some relief for my aching shoulders, I don't fucking care." Roxy stated grimacing. I went to the kitchen and found the channellocks and broke it open, easier than finding the hacksaw or a hammer. At least two balls left, could still be used I guess. Cutting the plastic coated rope string and knotting it.

"I am a bit of a misfit. From heritage, the way I was brought up, and my own ideals." she said vaguely explaining.

"Why not tie the key to the collar?" I asked wondering if there was a reason and the thinking of whoever, ignoring her out of the blue comment.

"More embarrassing if you think about it." She said laughing heartily.

"Roll over little Indian but don't fall out." I said laughing once I finally returned. She struggled rolling over on her stomach so I could get to the lock. A moment of inspiration hit me and I got on the couch straddling her legs before unlocking her final confinement. Her arms slipped to her sides like limp wet noodles and sighing from the relief. I started massaging her shoulders and back with force. John Henry resting in her barely covered ass crack by this time.

"That feels so good." She cooed.