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The Breakup

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 22 Jan 1998 0 comments
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The Breakup by AnonymousThe phone rang. Yippee. I rolled over and snagged the handset off of thereciever. "Hello?" A familiar voice on the other end: "James, it's Gina. Danny and I just broke up. I need someone to talk to. Can you..." "Areyou at home?" I asked. "Yes." "Be right there."I pulled on a pair of sneakers, grabbed my car keys, and yelled "I'm goingout - be back later," as I flew out the door. A little about me. Myparents have a wicked sense of humor, and since our last name is Bond, theydecided it would be a hoot to name me James. So, my name is James Bond. But, I'm not quite so debonair as Sean Connery or Pierce Brosnan, and Idon't have quite so cool a car. I piled into my Chevy Celebrity and droveto Gina's, not expecting anything but to provide a shoulder to cry on. Gina is a very pretty girl, a year younger than myself. She is verypetite, with not a perfect, but a very nice body. I had known her for awhile, and we were great friends, and the breakup was unexpected for theboth of us. When I arrived at her house, she was alone. Apparently, herparents were in Atlanta for the weekend. Also, as evidenced by the aromaand the multitude of empty bottles I spied laying about, Gina was verydrunk. She met me crying at the door, and I just held her for a longmoment. I then brought her back inside, and we sat next to each other onthe couch and she leaned on me. She never said a word, except for anoccasional mumbled "He said he loved me..." I just held her, and tried tocomfort her as best I could. We sat like that for an hour or more, nosound, just our breathing and her sobbing. Finally, she quieted down, andI looked at her and realized she was asleep. I picked her up gingerly, andcarried her into her bedroom. Since she was wearing a heavy denim shirtand blue jeans, I decided it would be best to take her clothes off beforeputting her to bed. Well, surprised was I when I took off her shirt andfound no bra. She was lacking in the panties department as well. Up tothis point, I'd never seen her naked, and hadn't realized how great of abody she had. My dick was pretty incredibly hard, and I knew if I didn'tget off pretty soon, I'd be experiencing some pain. She was still sacked out, laying naked on the bad when I took off my jeansand boxers. On her nightstand was a tube of lotion, so I borrowed a bit. I was standing over her bed, stroking for all I was worth. And it wasgreat. Until she woke up. "What are you doing?" What does one say when one is caught masturbatingover one's friend when samesaid friend is both slightly drunk and naked? Well, there's no point in lying about it, now is there? So, I was myusual, honest self. "I'm jerking off." "My God, why? And why am I naked? And, well, WHY?" Hmmm.... Tough questions. Well, again, I feel honestyis indeed the best policy, so I took her questions in order: "Well, youwere so hot, I got so turned on, I had to do something, or I was going todie. I was putting you to bed, and apparently you didn't think itnecessary to wear underwear today. And, lastly, because." She paused. Thinking. Thinking. Imagine the scene: Naked redhead lying on her bedwith a puzzled expression on her face. Teenaged boy standing beside bed,missing pants, erect dick in hand, lotion all over the place, not moving amuscle. Finally, thank God, she broke the silence. "Well, if you're goingto have some fun today, and you've already gotten started, I might as wellget something out of this, too. Get down her." Who am I to argue? So, Iobliged her and joined her on the bed. She kissed me full on the lips, andthen the next phrase out of her mouth was "No. I don't want to have sexwith you... But... No... I.. God damn it... I think it would be bestif you left." No. Please no. Not now. I was just about to, ahnevermind. I sadly (and painfully, literally painfully) gathered my belongings,redressed myself and was walking out of the room, when a small little voicefrom behind me said "Would you watch me play with myself?" Would I? Dumbquestion. I turned around. From somewhere, this girl had produced a dildoof Brobingdinag dimension and was brandishing it about like a samuraisword. At once, I was aroused and frightened for my life. A dick that bigcould do some serious damage if tossed about in the heat of the moment.But, a chance like this just don't come around every day, now does it? Ofcourse not! And when opportunity knocks, only an asshole doesn't open thedoor. I sat down on the bed (after taking off my pants. A Boy Scout isalways prepared.) and began to stroke again. She was a magnificentperformer, bringing herself to rousing (occasionally deafening) orgasms ontwo occasions. I came once. Then, after our little stroke-a-thon, she layback and said: "More..." I was reminded of Chef from the South Park TVseries: "God DAMN woman, I just gave you sweet lovin' five minutes ago! You tryin' to KILL me or somethin'?" But, once again, it takes a shmuck topass up a once-in-a-lifetime. So. I immediately realized I would require some help to get myself into ANYcondition to perform. So, I asked. "Could you help me get into acondition in which I could perform?" "Is that your way of asking for ablowjob?" "Sure." So, down she went, sucking and licking and nibbling(not TOO much - don't think me a freak) and then (why, oh why) the PHONERINGS! She answers "Hello?" I won't relate the phone conversation, but the gist of it was Danny wasfeeling like a prick for leaving her and wanted to get back together. Sheagreed. I'm sure had anyone walked in the room, they would have been shocked at thesight: Girl rushing about trying to get ready to go somewhere, tryingdifferent combinations of clothing, brushing hair, teeth. Attractive girl,red hair, nice body. And on the bed? A naked guy, spread-eagled, with ahuge erection waving in the air, muttering a distraught "No... No... No.. No..."