Hey folks, so below is the next installment of The Ratchet Vampire Chronicles Episode #3: What The F-?. I hope you enjoy. We’re working our way up to the paranormal component, but ideally, I’m channeling realism here and for the characters to develop naturally. I don’t want this to just be straight nasty sex, and for the introduction of vampires and erotic sex not to be forced. Okay, can’t write much more since I just got off work and still need to put in time writing for today. Please give feedback and let me know what I can do to make the story better!
***MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!
I’ve never been the type that falls for groupies or sleeps around. Count me out of the foam parties and booze cruises through the Caribbean, and Cancun. What my boys get all excited for, shaving up and dancing through the athletic dorm before they leave, and then come home with no money or worrying about some venereal disease. I’ve seen too many negroes fall on the power of some pussy. Babies, money, opportunities lost, hell, I even know a couple of dudes walking around with HIV.
No, thank you.
But underneath, seeing how death was so close, I began to second-guess and question life. I had always been so serious and straight-laced. Maybe too serious. Like I hadn’t fully lived. Nothing was guaranteed now. If I died at age twenty-five, would I be okay having seriously dated only Bree?
This is the state of flux I was in the day Haley Menjivar got my attention.
She never threw herself at me or came onto me. Not once. She was probably one of the most beautiful girls on campus, or that I had ever even seen. I could tell the attraction was there, and that she was fighting it. But she kept her distance, laughing and joking with the kids, interacting with the people in charge, and asking questions. She would get right into her little Scion and drive away after it was over, like she was on to the next important thing she had to do. When I noticed myself watching her flip that full head of hair over her shoulder, adjust her shirt over those size C cupped breasts or lean her head to the side when listening, I decided to stop going to Upward House. I couldn’t disrespect Bree like that.
Only thing is, I couldn’t get those round hips and full titties out of my head. All that hair. I tried, God knows I did. A couple of months later, my frustration had grown into something I could not explain. I walked around looking for a way to not be so lost, and Bree was just… there.
I hate saying my baby was the same old thing. And yet I must be honest. The sameness and predictability did nothing for me in this situation.
When I was driving home from the gym one night, I thought I saw Haley running into the library. Her hair was swinging left and right while her titties bounced up and down under her dark shirt. It set me on fire, and that’s never happened. Like a bowl of white chocolate that I just wanted all over me.
Not sure if it was her or not, I took a chance and did the most spontaneous thing that has ever crossed my mind. I found a parking spot fast, hoping she had not left. Searching the aisles and asking the library aides if they’d seen her, I headed to the psychology section. My dick got super hard when I saw her in sweat pants, and no bra in that low-cut shirt. Without saying a word, I walked up to her in a secluded aisle, put my hands around her smooth waist, grabbed a big lock of that silky ass hair and pulled her to me.
Haley responded. We walked out separately before we could be seen, meeting up again at a woodsy park.
Oh, my God. My God.
I hadn’t felt anything like it. Bree had been my second. And my only, for the past five years.
Haley and I fucked six times that night. First, just to be sure, we had “the talk”, about whether the other was “clean”.
Then she let me do whatever I wanted. The way her petite curves twirled around my dick, it was clear she was no rookie. This girl was so goddamn beautiful with those big, pretty titties bouncing up and down in the moonlight, licking her lips and leaning back her neck. She sucked my dick so hard my eyes rolled to the back of my head as she gnawed and jerked, making me feel like a god. She swallowed all of my cum like milk. Didn’t hesitate or look uncomfortable once. Her hair was satin falling between my fingers, and I could have eaten her strawberry scent. I pulled her head back and she moaned, looking at me like her pussy was built for my dick, daring me to go all in. I raped her ass, pushing all of my frustration into her navel while she held on. She loved every minute. Hands down, I didn’t even think sex this gratifying and mean was legal.
The word that comes to mind for Haley is fire. Uninhibited, unafraid, master of her destiny. Her thick, round ass rode me soft and hard. In control at times, submissive at others. And she bent over like, motherfucker, give it your best shot. I admired that she wasn’t wrapped up in trying to be all proper, in what other people thought. She was living life for her, not somebody else.
Chatting, laughing and munching on cheap breakfast food in between, we sipped some alcohol and smoked a little weed. It felt strange at the end of the night when parting ways, and she didn’t ask for my number, or I hers. What for? I was in a relationship, so we couldn’t call or text. This would have to be it.
I had definitely not lived enough life.
“You had me worried. I called you I don’t know how many times. Called Dre. Xavier. You couldn’t pick up? You almost had me send a search team.” Bree jumped up from the couch when I walked in around 3:45 a.m.
“I just had to get away. Go for a long drive. Think. Clear my head,” I replied.
My first time ever lying to her. Felt like shit.
At the same time, if I’m honest with myself, I hadn’t wanted to leave Haley. I could have pulled her hair and just slept in her soft, juicy pussy for days. Her fire had invigorated me.
What the fuck? Why did I need to do something that required me to lie? Because I’m a ho? Or was I still wanting something that, deep down, I hadn’t allowed myself to explore yet?
I wasn’t going to leave my angel. It just couldn’t be the kind of marriage I originally thought. Maybe I would have Bree, and side chicks. Like most of the guys I knew. That way, I could do the traditional thing, and live a little too.
Haley never called. Didn’t show up at a practice or a game. Nor did any of the bothersome things females do when they become obsessed. As a matter of fact, she went completely ghost. Left me hanging.
Back to the old grind. Play ball. Off the court. Train hard. Perform for agents. Drive home to Kansas City on the weekends. Look at Pops and watch him deteriorate. Hold Moms while she cried. Why did my family have to return to helplessness?
Graduation and the NBA draft were getting closer. Bree was supportive and attentive. But I could see it all over her. She was waiting for her responsible, dependable man to move past all this NBA nonsense.
“Baby, you know I’m here for you. But you know, just to be smart, have you started setting up some job interviews?”
Translation: Give it up. Accept that basketball was over.
Was that all I would be for the rest of my fucking life? Bree’s Mr. Dependable?