Chapter 14
LONELINESS DOESN'T FILL THE HOLE
One night when I was particularly lonely, Lynn, the Butcher at the market where I bought my groceries, phoned me. We had talked frequently from our first meeting. I had given him my phone number. But there was something about Lynn that made me hesitate to allow him into my doll house, so I usually told him I was already tied up.
He was very clean, brawny and tough, with a beautiful California tan. Lynn constantly told me, in very descriptive words what a fantastic cock he had. "You wouldn't charge me baby. You would pay me, once you got a taste of Horsie."
"Who is that?" I asked.
"My whopping big, ever-hard love joint of course. And baby, this man's cock is backed up by the best set of balls a bouncing. All of my gal friends in school used to call him Horsie," he said, patting the growing protrusion under his apron.
Maybe he was all brag and bluster. Lynn reminded me of Billie. So, I didn't buy his story. Or not until this one night anyway. I was alone and hating it, when Lynn phoned me. I told him I wasn't playing any freebee games, but if he had his twenty-five bucks in hand at the door, he could come in.
"Okay, my little honey pot of come. I'll give you your bucks. After I've finished a job on you; you can offer it back or not. You be the judge."
I was as horny as a ten peckered kangaroo. If he was that sure of himself, I would try his fucking tool.
Lynn was right to a point. He could fuck. I mean a steady fast, hard, bang of ramming that cock home until I thought I would have to scream uncle. He never slowed down, never varied. Didn't even change positions. Just rammed and bammed and rammed and bammed on and on. Endlessly. Until I almost fainted with a combination of exhaustion and lots of gallons of come juice.
So he was a good fuck. Especially when one was as unsatisfied as I had been lately. But he wasn't that exceptional. Sure he could fuck to one tune. Ram, bam, ram. But he couldn't make music. He couldn't turn his screwing into a symphony orchestra. Lynn could only fuck. He couldn't make love.
"Well, pussy, how about it?" he said, rolling off me. "Am I good, or am I superior."
"You bang all right," I said. I laughed agreeably, so I wouldn't seem impolite. Yet he asked for an honest answer.
"What do you mean by that?" he demanded. He was instantly red in the face. In fact, his neck muscles and tendons were flexing with anger, and standing out in his neck like stiff cords. "I'm the best and you know it. You're just saying that to collect your bucks."
"The deal is, you pay no matter who is best. I'm not having a contest with you. I told you on the phone you were to pay me at the door. And I should have remembered to hold you to it," I told him angrily. "My game is straight cash."
"I'll show you my game," he said. He yanked a big thick belt out of his pants with a silver buckle half as big around as my head. "What you want, what you need real bad, is to be whipped within an inch of your life."
Now I was scared. But I tried not to show it. "Don't be funny Lynn. We fucked. Now it's time for you to go home. If you're so uptight about your money, keep it. And don't ever come back."
"Why you smug little cunt. I'll give you something to remember me by," he said. Then, quick as a streak of lightning, he brought that belt down so hard across my back I fainted dead away.
The horrid cutting pain was still there when I woke. Apparently the belt hit me flat. I was amazed I wasn't cut. But the welt was like a wide thick red ribbon all across my back. And it remained bad for days after.
Until the red welt, which eventually turned black and blue, finally went away, I didn't go out of my apartment, or keep any appointments.
Damn that perverted creep. He knew I couldn't have him arrested without getting into trouble myself, all the way up to the gazongas. Well, I would give him a dose of his own medicine.
I went to a department store and bought the heaviest leather belt I could find. I wrapped it around my hand, carrying my jacket to conceal it. I went to the market where Lynn worked. I marched straight into the back room where he was cutting meat. Before that bastard could get away, or before his co-worker pulled me off of Lynn, I got in some damned good licks. Right across his face and shoulders.
But wouldn't you know it? He loved it. He danced around, but didn't attempt to get out of my way. After a few good belts, that son-of-a-bastard squatted. He held his hands against his dick and said, "OOOOWWWWWWW!"
All his helper said was, "Jesus Christ!" But he still held me at arms length. I threw Lynn the belt and said, "Here's your present. Use it on yourself, pervert."