☯Detox☯

It was 114℉ when Rob checked into the detox center. He hadn't even been drinking, much less doing any drugs. He rolled into Phoenix from Santa Fe in late July with what was left of his last paycheck from a job picking up giant rocks. It wasn't enough to get the lights turned on, and he hadn't gotten a job before the heat wave hit. One afternoon, as he boiled in his own juices, he got the idea to check into detox for air conditioning. One hour later he had done that.

He signed some forms. Rob made sure they knew how much he needed help, on account of all the dope he told them he had been doing. He didn't feel guilty about it. There were empty beds

The social worker in charge of admissions gave him a little handbook of rights and responsibilities. She said some words. He nodded occasionally, trying to keep his eyes open. The only time it was possible to sleep inside his blast furnace of a house was in the three hours right before dawn. That was when the temperature dropped to a balmy 98℉. By the time he decided to check into detox he had become so sleep deprived he was having fever dreams. The nice lady got Rob checked in before he passed out though.

Detox had never struck Rob as a place he might enjoy, but he knew nothing about it. In his imagination the place had to be fairly horrible, since it was full of guys coming off of drugs and alcohol. Imagine his surprise when he discovered guys and girls were all in the same place. Not only had he no reason to worry about being stuck with a bunch of men, but some of the girls were very attractive. Attractive girls with drug habits were one of his big weaknesses. They always liked Rob, and Rob always liked them.

A nice lady wearing white hospital scrubs and a grandma sweater introduced him to everyone. Her name was Emily, and the three most attractive girls were named Denise, Jenn and Becky. One little mousy chick was named Kristie, and the rest of them just never made it into Rob's awareness. He doubted he would be able to make it there very long, regardless of how nice the temperature was. Remembering everyone's name really didn't strike him as a priority. He already felt guilty for being there.

It turned out he arrived right before dinner. A lady wearing blue scrubs brought it in on a rolling cart. It was two ham sandwiches, ice cold. He managed to sit down next to the mousy girl, Kristie. Rob almost knocked one of the dudes over snagging the seat. The guy did not look happy. Rob apologized for "tripping," and the guy, who was really detoxing, went back into his shell. That made Rob feel even guiltier, because the guy was probably in drug withdrawal hell. He justified his actions by thinking he did the poor alcoholic/addict a favor. People in recovery aren't supposed to have relationships.

When playing odds girls who are in the middle, that is to say average in appearance, not too beautiful, not too plain, almost always struck Rob as the easiest to approach and talk to. Kristie looked at him like there were horns growing out of his head though. He was working on the second sandwich already. He wasn't just hot, He was hungry too. Kristie asked, "How can you eat that?"

"How can you not eat it? There's got to be all of 400 calories here. It's not enough to keep someone alive," Rob responded as he finished the second sandwich. He felt warmed up to eat some real food, but there was nothing left.

"I've got food in my bag. Somebody told me the food was terrible, so I brought a bunch with me."

"Really? What've you got?"

"Oh, no. No, I'm not telling you. You're going to try to get some, and I don't have enough."

Rob really looked at Kristie then. She had short brown hair that got curly right before it ended. Just for a second he thought it looked like she decided to discipline it, for not doing what she wanted, by cutting it off. She had a light frosting of freckles on her cheekbones, and she had glasses. She wasn't pale, which was only strange because for some reason she looked as though she ought to be.

That moment hit Rob right in the solar plexus, like so many other moments in the past. Kristie gave off all the warmth and intelligence of someone truly beautiful on the inside. When a person like that looked back at Rob, there was nothing he could do to resist feeling an attraction to them. Their goodness made him hungry and thirsty at the same time. He wanted to drink their essence up with a straw, and then clean out the inside of the cup with his fingers.

Kristie looked at him with a puzzled expression. When she saw Emily come through the door she whispered, "We're not supposed to talk to the guys." That news could not have been more unwelcome to Rob in that instant. She had pretty eyes, and he wouldn't be able to keep looking into them.

There was an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting right after dinner, which was right before going to bed at an awfully early hour. Alcoholics Anonymous meetings took place four times a day, Rob was told when he asked. In his mind that meant they had him until daylight, tops. After that it would be adios, amigo. Raging inferno at his house or not, he wouldn't be there much longer. Something about their blue book made him want to get drunk and snort blow, and those were habits he could not afford.

Just on a lark Rob wrote Kristie a note. It said, "Meet me in the showers a half hour after lights out." He got Kristie's attention without Emily noticing. Emily very likely wanted nothing more than to go home, so it wasn't that difficult. That was good, because when Rob threw the note and hit Kristie in the face with it a small amount of confusion ensued. Emily may as well have been asleep.

The honest truth was that Rob forgot about the note long before the AA "meeting" ended. Some poor sot went on and on about drinking. At one point the sot paused. As quickly as humanly possible Rob said,"Thank you for sharing." The alcoholic just finished inhaling enough air to speak for another five minutes, and then jumped right back into his marathon. When Rob fell asleep and very nearly fell out of the chair, Emily decided it was time to end the group. Rob took a shower and went to the men's dormitory area. He was asleep within seconds of hitting the bed.

Something seemed horribly wrong to Rob. He was asleep, and the cold air was magnificent. The blanket pulled high around his neck felt cozy and comfortable. That's why the voice and the tapping on his leg disturbed him so greatly. He doubted very seriously he had told the front desk a wake up call was necessary.

Then Rob opened his eyes. He discovered he had gone through with the crazy plan to check himself into detox. Then he noticed the guy who would never shut up standing at the foot of the bed. The guy was trying to say something, Rob couldn't help but notice, having woken up all the way.

"Kristie told me to get you," he said.

"Who?" Rob asked.

"Kristie, man. The girl you threw the note at."

That's when Rob remembered. He felt like telling the dude to go get Kristie and bring her back to his bed. Somehow Rob didn't think all the other guys would go for the loud sounds of sex, and he could think of no easy way to explain it. Rob knew it only took one person being unhappy for the experience to go from great to terrible in an instant. He dragged himself into a sitting position, hoping it was worth it.

Rob didn't get all the way dressed. He put on a t-shirt and went in his boxers. He reasoned that if he got caught it wouldn't matter what he was wearing anyway. He found it difficult to believe they wouldn't be nabbed immediately, until he made it to the showers. There were no cameras, no desk, no guard, no nurse, no nothing. When he stepped into the shower room it was just he and Kristie.

He barely caught a glimpse of her before Kristie was right next to him. She had on Rug Rats pajamas, and she managed to make them look sexy and cute at the same time. She was was a little shorter than Rob was. He could tell because she had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He tried to say something, but she stopped him. Thinking back it struck him how intelligent it was for her to do that. If she paid attention to anything he said it would have intruded upon her fantasy. And Kristie had some kind of fantasy. That was what led her to believe kissing Rob in a bathroom at detox was a good idea, and he knew that.

Kissing Kristie back felt good to him. It made Rob feel like it was the right thing to do. Her lips tasted faintly like strawberries. He almost laughed about it, but it was too nice being close to her. They were all over each other. They were getting breathless from the kissing, and it ignited a strong passion in both of them.

Rob wrapped Kristie up in his long arms and measured everything about her. He could feel how she was muscular in some places, and dainty in others. He could feel her breasts rubbing up against the bottom of his chest. They were proportioned just right. She didn't have huge breasts, but they were perfect on her exactly the way they were. Kristie felt to him like the best example of how a completely ordinary, normal and average person was evidence of divine creation. The mere idea she might want to change something about herself to fit a mold for society struck him as insane.

***

For her part Kristie savored the sensations that made Rob who he was. She noticed how he had really hairy legs, but his arms weren't quite the same. She looked at how his deep tan also meant that his hair was sun bleached. It was much lighter on his arms than on the backs of his legs. She felt how strong he was as he gripped her, and the feeling made her light headed. There was a desire in her loins that made her face turn bright red, and she started sweating even though it felt ice cold on her skin.

Kristie continued to run the fingers of her left hand through Rob's hair and over his neck and back. With her left hand she reached inside his boxer shorts and felt the solid, heavy manhood that was sticking straight up, almost parallel to his body. She judged that it was only around eight inches, but it was so thick her fingers couldn't meet on the side opposite her palm. That struck her as shockingly large. It made her breathing quicken and her heart skip a beat.

Kristie went from shocked to a little bit frightened. She was not easy. She did not sleep around, and Rob's size was so much different than what she had in the past. The only reason she had decided to have the encounter was because Kristie thought Rob was incredibly good looking. In her mind it would have been nuts to refuse the offer.

Kristie had to see him up close. She slid down between his arms and his body until she was squatting in front of him, his sex at the same level as her eyes. She pulled his underwear down and the sight caused her to suck in air with a slight hissing sound. It was larger than anything she had seen in person, by far.

She cupped his testicles in her left hand, which felt heavy and swollen. With her right hand Kristie stroked up and down his shaft lightly. She spent a little extra time on the ring of flesh separating the head from the rest of it, having learned how sensitive it was from one of her boyfriends. Sure enough he moaned a couple of times as she reached the sensitive areas.

Kristie couldn't resist seeing what he tasted like. She didn't bother with trying to perform oral sex. Looking at him up close and thinking about it made her jaw hurt The experience was making her unbelievably wet, and she was so flushed she was on fire. She knew he didn't want her to stop. She couldn't help it. Kristie had decided she had to get that thing inside her before she exploded.

Kristie stood up out of the squat, dropped her bottoms and bent over one of the sinks across from the showers. Rob was behind her in an instant. She had absolutely no problem with vaginal dryness. When Rob began slowly pushing into her there was a sensation of pain. She told him to pull back for a second, and she reached back and pulled her labia out of the way as best she could. The idea that he could see her so exposed made her feel terribly humiliated and overwhelmed by desire.

That time Rod made it all the way in. Kristie thought it very likely he could sense when the motion was hindered in any way, because a couple of times when she felt uncomfortable twinges he slowed down. All that stopped after the first minute. From then on she was practically lathered, and he was sliding in and out too fast for her to catch her breath. The sensation was building up faster than she could cope with.

Kristie decided to come, and she decided not to feel guilty about. Instead of trying to hold off the approaching waves of pleasure she strained to make it happen faster. It worked too. Rob was still high and dry as she climaxed, and despite being a little bit scared of getting caught she made a good deal of noise.

Within fifteen seconds she made Rob stop. He emitted a short but pathetic sound when he had to stop. Kristie felt sorry for him, and even thought, “Bless his heart.” Kristie had never been one of the women who had a difficult time having an orgasm. Even still, her few boyfriends had never seemed to be able to restrain their pleasure until she had hers. Rob was not like those guys, obviously.

Kristie decided to take pity on him. She pulled up her pajamas and snuggled up close to him, standing up, and pulled his shirt over his head. As he finished taking it off she kissed and licked his chest slowly as she took all of him into her grasp. She cupped and stroked him, focusing on his sensitive areas she had already learned. It didn't take long at all for her to drive him over the edge.

Kristie thought it was cute how Rob's entire body seemed to stiffen just as he got to orgasm. Then he shook, small tremors that migrated from some parts of his body to others as she milked him. She raised her eyebrows at the size of the mess he made as it all came spurting out. She was really glad all of that had not found its way up into her body. It kept coming for 3 or 4 seconds. Kristie giggled despite herself, thinking about the uber spooging she had just witnessed.

Rob had to stop her that time. Another few seconds of it would have driven him insane. Kristie had always wanted to do that, but she knew it wasn't the time or place. At precisely that moment she heard a door open, at the end of the hallway closest to the men's sleeping area. Kristie said, “Bye-bye, lover boy. I have to get back to bed." Then she rushed out and down the hall before the orderly could find out she hadn't been in bed the whole time.

Kristie heard the sounds of Rob not being nearly so lucky. The orderly must have gotten him coming out of the showers, because to Kristie's ears there was something bigger than just a sleepwalker being discussed. When she heard new voices she knew they had attached Rob to the small puddle of stuff in front of the sinks. She pulled her sheet over her head, in case he said something, so she could pretend she had been asleep. She new he wouldn't say anything though, and he didn't.

The two never saw each other again.

Just a Simple Short Memory

It was early in the morning early in the month of May, and we were having breakfast in bed. I was with my favorite girl in the whole world. As long as we were together there was nothing in the world that I couldn't find the strength to deal with.

That morning the biggest problem was that there were only three pats of butter. She had asked for two extra ones for her blueberry muffin, so that meant she needed three. I had a blueberry muffin also. That meant if she was going to get three pats of butter I wouldn't have any butter. It was quite the quandary.

"Anne, it's okay. I don't really need butter. My muffin is okay without butter," I told her. I knew better than to think she would just let it go. It never hurt to try though. There were times when Anne wouldn't really care about something so trivial.

"It's not about the butter," she said. "I think the room service girl did it on purpose because I asked her twice to make sure I got two extra pats of butter. Did you see how she smirked when you opened the door?"

"That may not have been the same person who took your order on the phone though," I said, regretting having opened my mouth even as I heard the words coming out.

"You know it was the same girl, John. Of course it was the same girl. That's why she smirked at me. She was making it a point to mess with me about the butter."

"Hey, I know you're right. I just don't want you to be upset. I want to have fun today. This is our trip, and we don't need to let the room service girl, or anyone else, mess it up for us. You can have my butter --" I could tell she was going to get bent out of shape if I took that tack, so I changed in mid sentence "-- or I can get her to come back and be mean to her. I'll do whatever you want me to so it won't bother you anymore."

"You're so sweet," she smiled when she said it. The room always lit up when she smiled, or at least it did for me.

Anne and I met at a birthday party for one of my friends. She went to the party with my sister's best friend. She hadn't counted on meeting anyone she liked there, and really neither did I. If somebody had told I would meet somebody that night who I would be involved with indefinitely, then I would have thought they were crazy. It was supposed to be just a small get together, and my little group was fished out.

Arriving at the punch bowl at the same as the attractive young lady didn't go so well. I bumped into her and caused her to drop her glass. It didn't break, but it did splatter punch onto the seat of an antique chair. Amid profuse apologies on my part we struck up a conversation. We found we had a lot in common. We both felt the kind of attraction and crackling positive energy that hits you when sex seems inevitable.

The amazing thing to me was that Anne almost to a tee fit the description of someone I didn't consider my type. She was dressed conservatively, with knee length khaki shorts and a simple blue button down long sleeve shirt, buttoned at the wrists and almost to the top at her throat. She had sparkling white tennis shoes with white ankle socks that had little pink puffballs at the back, which I had made fun of many times before I met her.

Anne's hair was very neatly pulled into a French braid. I couldn't really tell how long it was because of the braid, but her hair was sandy blond and had to be fairly long considering how formidable the braid was. She had on pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. She had on a small tennis watch which was a non-pretentious regular type of Seiko, which said she liked good watches but Seiko was her price range. All of these things amounted to basically my opposite in appearance.

Right after one of my friends saw me talking to her he made his way behind her so she couldn't see him. He then proceeded to make fun of her pearl necklace with exaggerated jacking off motions, complete with a mimed money shot. I should have known I was with a future girlfriend by the way I got angry at one of my friends for making fun of her. That's definitely not the way a guy acts when he's not interested in a girl.

When I said she was practically my opposite in appearance it was absolutely true. I was wearing cut offs of thick linen khaki pants. The bottom edges were frayed extensively. I tugged at the frayed edges subconsciously whenever I talked to somebody, which didn't improve the condition of the fray. I remember I was wearing a not fade away that was so old the color had not faded, but the fabric was so thin it almost looked as if it had. I always wore sandals. That night I had on a pair of huaraches that were three yeas old, and wouldn't make it another year.

My skin was very dark from being in the sun all the time. The most distinct tan lines on my entire body were on my feet. When I took my sandals off my skin was white underneath the straps. The reason my feet had the most distinctive tan lines was because there was a gradual change of color from my upper body into my pelvic area. I didn't have any tan lines on my upper body at all because just the slightest hint of nice weather and good sunshine prompted me to yank my shirt off immediately. I loved the way the warm sun felt on my skin, even though people constantly warned me about how bad it was.

I was six foot one unless I had to wear shoes. I weighed 182 pounds, which struck me as a little heavy, although the same people who warned me about the sun always told me I was not overweight. I did landscaping work, so there was no need to go to a gym. Everyone who did landscaping wound up with really good looking muscle structure, and I was no exception. My abs were well defined, although not so much they looked like something I spent a lot of time on them. My whole body was like that. I had well toned and defined muscle lines, but not so much it looked like I worked out in front of a mirror.

My hair was dark and thick, and curled just a little bit when I let it grow out a little. I didn't have long hair, but I liked it to be long enough that people could tell I could grow it long if I wanted to. My hair didn't have a natural part in it. It just sort of hung off the top in whatever direction it decided to. It almost had a life of its own.

My legs were really hairy in front, but not so much in the back. Of course that was true of my arms as well. I had a lot of hair on my chest, but not very much on my stomach. I was often very thankful to God that my back didn't have any hair on it. A hairy back always struck me as a terrible thing to have. I don't know what I would have had to do to get rid of it, but any way I could think of sounded painful.

I kept my private areas really well trimmed and short. I actually did shave in a small circle around the base of my cock. Hair could be a distraction at times when a distraction was the last thing I wanted. I did not shave my entire crotch because no matter what I did there would be nasty itchy bumps all over the place. I had figured that maybe if I worked in an office or something it would be no big deal, but working out in the sun just made problem free crotch shaving an impossibility.

One time I told a chick about my shaving policy, and she had decided that was something she couldn't bear to think about. Sh had just gotten finished telling me about hers. I thought it would be okay to talk about, but she didn't like it at all. That may be just one detail too many, but how can anyone know what they are getting in advance if conversation is limited to only work safe topics. I don't think that girl was right for me anyway, but I always approached the shaving topic with a little extra caution after that (in case it looked like the subject might cause a little feminine freak out).

So there I was, all tall, dark and physically fit, standing next to a young woman who looked like she was about to take a class of first graders on a field trip to the closest Talbots. We both felt the electricity in the air. I wanted to get that girl out of those straight straight vanilla straight clothes, get her hair down around her shoulder and get all up inside her. In retrospect I am quite sure Anne was also thinking she wanted me to get her out of those clothes and all up inside her, as soon as possible.

We left the party in a hurry. Anne told my sister's friend that she had found a different ride home, which probably would have turned into a fifteen minute long dish fest in the bathroom if Anne hadn't been in such a rush. We jumped into my Celica and headed for her place, because it was closer.

Once we got to her apartment we were kissing and macking on each other before we could even get the door open. She fumbled for the keys as I nuzzled against her neck and behind her left ear. Anne made a little squeal when I blew lightly at her earlobe and nipped it between my teeth. We did not fall through the door when she got it open, but only because I caught the frame at the last second.

Anne got her hands inside my t-shirt, but not for long because I lost the shirt in one fluid motion. Her shirt had buttons. It would have been missing a bunch of buttons if she hadn't stopped me. She got the top two undone and snaked out of it. I knew her bras would be white before I ever saw it. It was holding up two perfectly full and average C cup breasts with absolutely average dark pinkish nipples. I had my arms around her before she could get her shorts all the way off. I let her get my shorts off, because I was busy with what I had of her at that moment.

I had gotten Anne's hair halfway down when my cock came free of the shorts and underwear that had been holding it back. It felt so good to have it swing up and away from my pelvic area. There's such a feeling of confinement when it's trapped inside clothes. That unpleasantness was compounded if my balls somehow got stuck too far in front when I got hard. Get everything out and free could be almost as good as sex sometimes.

Anne seemed quite happy with what she had discovered. There was nothing special about the size of my manhood. It wasn't small, it wasn't too big. I really have never had much of a basis for comparison. It would easily be over seven and a half inches almost all the time, but one time when I was super excited my girlfriend measured and it was slightly over eight. I've been told that without the cushioning hair it feels a little longer inside a woman, which was half of my reason for shaving at all.

Anne wasn't worried about any of those things. She was kissing and sucking on my chest while she played with my cock leisurely. Her slow and gentle stroking was making me hard as a rock. It was pointed straight up at the ceiling between the two of us. While she used her right hand to stroke me she was using her left hand to lazily play with my balls. She was cupping them and feeling their size. Then Anne would let them hang free for a second before gathering them into her warm grasp again in a slightly different way. The feeling of being held and not held, held and not held, was turning me on to the extreme. No woman had ever done that to me before.

I had gotten all of her hair down before putting my hands to work feeling every inch of her that was within my reach. I measured the size of her beautiful bottom with my hands. I did not have to bend over to trace the outline of her ass cheeks. I ran my hands around the bottom of Anne's ass where it meets her thighs, and my arms were long enough to graze the lower part of her sex from behind.

Meanwhile I was kissing and licking every part of her upper body, her neck, her ears. I usually didn't kiss until I knew the girl better, because kissing was the easiest way to catch a cold. In her case I just knew she wasn't sick at all. I was kissing her then, but not for very long. Anne had decided foreplay in the foyer was played out. She showed me by taking my hand and leading me into the living room, on the way to the bedroom.

We were both naked. She was nice to look at. I've never felt there was anything good looking about a man, especially not me. I usually didn't like walking around in the nude, because there's so much stuff going on with a man's body. We did not make it across the living room. I felt a little bit dirty, but I wanted to treat her like she wasn't clean and pure. I wanted her to feel out of place wearing the boring little outfit she had on when we met. I wanted to make her more fully aware of the sexuality of what we were doing.

I said, "Anne, let's just stay here."

She looked at me with a little confusion in her eyes, but she could tell from my face I wasn't being strange or anything. She asked, "What do you want to do?"

"Could you bend over the back of the couch and let me do you from behind?"

Her face turned bright red. She stammered, "Sh-sure, I could do that."

I pulled her in close to me and turned her around. We took the couple of steps over to the back of the couch, and I signaled for her to bend over the back. I did that by tapping her lightly once with my left hand and positioning her with my right hand with just a little nudge. She just knew how I wanted her and got that way.

Anne's pussy was a little too low, but the fix for that is really easy with a soft backed sofa. I got her to spread her legs slightly, put some weight on the couch, and then lean further forward a tad. It meant her sex was exposed upwards toward my lower stomach. Instead of having to get us the same height I leaned forward onto her a little. I didn't do it yet though. I liked the way she looked exposed and bent over.

She was holding the weight of her upper body with her arms on the sofa cushions. I told her to let her weight go until Anne was propped on her elbows. That turned her pussy upward just a little more, and caused her head to be closer to the seat cushions.

I didn't touch Anne with anything but my hands. I ran my hands over her back and down her legs. I stroked her ribcage, not enough to make her scream from the ticklishness of it, but enough to give her goose bumps all over her body. I played with her for a minute or so, massaging her clit and feeling the warmth and wetness of her pussy. She groaned a few times. Anne was probably about to try to rape me when I decided I had teased her enough.

I guided myself down into her as I leaned over the back of the sofa with her. I used my longer arms to keep my weight on the top of her pelvic region and on the back of the couch on either side of her, and my longer legs kept me from firmly on the floor. It was a physically demanding position for me, but it's like a much more pronounced doggy style for a woman.

I pulled in and out of her slowly at first. She understood immediately what I had done when my balls slapped onto her clitoris not only with the force of my thrust but also with the power of gravity. Every in stroke my balls landed right there on her most sensitive spot and stayed there until I pulled back, whereas in doggy style there was just the slap before gravity took control. As I picked up the pace it started getting to her in a big way. I've been told that it can cause soreness if I did it too long though.

I was just about to reposition us, because the last thing I wanted to do was make her hurt so early in the night. I needed have worried, because she came right away. Anne told me to stop, but when I was about to pull out she said, "Don't you dare." I leaned over onto her with all my weight then, because it really did take a lot of work to make love that way.

A few seconds went by, and then Anne asked me, "Are we going to be able to get out of this position?"

We both laughed. I did manage to get off of her without losing my little guy in the process. I helped her up, or tried to. She pulled me over onto the couch with her where we laid snuggling for a little while. We did in fact make it to the bedroom after that, and it was a good night. It wasn't magical, but it was great sex nonetheless. I had no problem taking just great sex and hoping for magical later.

I was thinking about that night while I was looking at her carefully dividing the three pats of butter into six halves. She looked so normal, but she was so not normal. I think it's funny how that worked out. I looked like a stoner, and I was straight laced hard working responsibility guy. She looked like a Stepford wife, and inside she was sort of like Mary Shelley. She was from a boring environment,and that's what she looked like. Her exterior didn't match her interior at all though. It was like something out of an urban fantasy when we were together, sometimes. It was nice being with her.

[Like a lot of things I write these days I felt it was more important to finish it on time than to finish it the way I wanted. I have problems {not health problems, just problems}. I would rather have a finished work posted where it didn't end to my liking than nothing of it posted at all, perhaps never getting posted.]