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Turning him down was probably going to get me in more trouble than just showing up. I wished he hadn’t found my number. All the anxiety I’d felt in front of Bass didn’t compare to the dread I now carried in my stomach. “Sure, I’ll come by, Bruno. No drugs, though. I mean it.”
I’d been blessed or cursed (I wasn’t sure which) with a long, thick cock. Sure, I’d considered porn, but the only thing I had an itch for in my twenties was booze and drugs. Images of my mother rolling over in her grave had also prevented me from performing. Probably somewhere was the nagging thought that I’d never have my own family and that would be the biggest disappointment to my father’s and mother’s hopes for me.
My friends sometimes called me “Footlong,” but it was only about eight and a half inches. Behind bars, I’d been approached for sex lots of times, but never took any of those guys up on it. No one messed with me as big as I was.
Considering what led to my imprisonment and what happened afterward, I needed to be more discriminatory with my dick and where I put it. No more hurting others or ruining relationships. Discipline was my new drug.
The only thing that made my control falter was a beautiful young woman I had no business dealing with.
After pulling up to Rhodes’s house, I walked through the backyard to my glass apartment door. The main room was an open area with an L-shaped blue couch. A flat-screen TV hung across from it with a PlayStation underneath on a skinny cabinet. A round wooden dining table with padded rolling chairs sat on the other side of the room. The kitchenette was in the hallway leading to the large bedroom and full bathroom. A door off the living area led up to the rest of the house.
Relaxing on the comfortable couch’s chaise lounge, I opened Facebook. In prison, I could only view Essa’s account on a stolen phone hidden behind the toilets. I hadn’t seen her latest pictures in months.
My boner became painfully trapped in my jeans at the sight of her tight body in a striped V-neck T-shirt and jean shorts out in front of her house. Since I’d written to her over the years, she’d grown from a gangly child into a beautiful woman, but just barely. As she aged, my feelings for her began to change from friendship into some weird obsession my dick had with her now. Still, I shouldn’t be lusting over some eighteen-year-old kid; I was thirty-one, for fuck’s sake.
Not only that, but I told her I had worked with her dad. Fortunately, she’d never asked for more information about that, and anytime she asked a small question about him, I could give her some minor detail that seemed to be enough to settle her mind. Our entire relationship was based on a lie. Part of me didn’t even feel guilty because I cared for her and was desperate to make her mine. I craved her more than any grave dust I’d snorted.
Every letter she sent smelled like tart apples. The fruit in prison never had any scent (or flavor), but for the last year, whenever we got apples, my cock got hard imagining little Essa taking a bite of one, juice spilling out of her pert little lips.
She told me she had a crush on me when she was only fourteen, and I put an end to that real quick, telling her I’d have to stop writing. Nothing was mentioned again until last year, when she hinted at it with subtle flirtations in her letters. After that, things got complicated in my head. Essa was not a child any longer, and she was growing up. I warned her that I was way too old and no good for her. Told her to find someone worthy of her. Not an ex-con. Secretly, I was hoping she wouldn’t. That she would wait for me, and we could be together.
Flipping through her account pictures without having to hurry or hide was odd. I locked the door to the basement from upstairs for privacy, then sat back on the couch, freeing my throbbing cock from my jeans. How could I explain my attraction to this younger woman?
I found a video of her filming a stream in some woods. It was taken just two weeks prior. The wind blew through her hair, and she smiled before turning the camera away to show off the calm waters. Playing her smile on repeat, I vigorously stroked myself.
Pretending she was talking to me, I tried to imagine her voice telling me how much she wanted me. An image of her smiling up at me while I plunged into her virgin cunt was enough to make me spurt cum all over the phone. Worried, I quickly wiped it with my shirt, then remembered I was at my own place and alone. I could do this whenever I wanted in private now.
Just after the body buzz from the orgasm faded, my violent shame returned once again. I was disgusted with myself, beating off to a girl I’d sworn to look after. She was too young for me.
And I think I killed her father.
ChapterThree
ESSA
My phone rang, startling me awake at 6 a.m. Groggily, I grabbed it from the other side of the bed. Looking at the caller ID, my head sank back on the pillow with more exhaustion. What did this woman want? Ugh, I had been looking forward to sleeping in. Now I had to talk to this cranky lady. Hope that she was out of my life for good was dashed.
“Mrs. Reynolds?”
“Essa, you never called to tell me you made it. Thought you’d spare me a thank you, at least, for housing and feeding you for the last six months, but you just took off.” Out of all the irritating sounds one could hear first thing in the morning, her nasally tone was by far the worst.
“I’m sorry. I made it. I’m here.”
“How are classes?” Why did she care? She never seemed to before. Hopefully, I could answer her minimally, then get off the phone quickly.
“Oh, I was waiting to get more funds before I signed up. They won’t start until August. I can do late registration.”
“And you’re still thinking of that lab work?”
“Clinical laboratory science, yes.” My dream was to work in either cancer research or forensics once I graduated. Working in each sector would help me make the choice later on in my education.
“Another of your mother’s medical bills arrived. I’ll forward it to you. Saw your credit card bill, and it said you’ve maxed it out. I thought you got those scholarships.”
Dropping my jaw, I scoffed. Of course, she opened my mail. “I did getsome, but they only cover part of my tuition. I still need books and supplies… Groceries. I have my government card, though.” The household bills were approaching, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for those medical bills. Well, that wasn’t true; I knewhowI could pay for them, but just didn’t know if I would go through with it, not after Eli’s pleading. There was no way I’d tell Mrs. Reynolds about my plans, though.
“I don’t have any money to help you. I’m on a fixed income.” I mouthed those words along with her as she said them, but mine were said with a snarl on my lips. “Besides, I am still recovering from housing and feeding you.”
Trying to force myself not to sound sarcastic, I said, “I’m sure you’ll get another crown in Heaven, Mrs. Reynolds. Thank you.”
