Page 140 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
Not our best night, but then again, it was Rosie. It didn’t matter what state she was in, even if it meant watching her tear-encrusted mascara eyes look up at me while snot dripped from her nose, I wasn’t fazed. She was my girl,andI understood why Delaney’s demands meant she lost it completely.
Looking Freddy dead in the eyes, I answered him. “Rosie punctured me in the thigh last night with her lady claws.”
“While doing the dirty?”
I nodded.
Covering his mouth, he said, “Dude. That shit’s crazy. Was she sucking you off?”
Just a heads-up: Freddy was the biggest tool bag one could be unfortunate enough to meet. Consider a meathead from the gym, combined with a frat boy—make that three frat boys—and all the original cast members fromThe Jersey Shore, mixed them up into a melting pot of “Black Ice” car freshener, and you’ve got Freddy Roma.
“That’s none of your business, dickhead. Seriously, you really think I’m going to stand here and talk about my relationship with you? I value and respect my girl way too much to belittle her in front of you.”
Freddy tilted his head to the side and studied me like a dog looks when you talk to them but they can’t quite figure out what you’re trying to convey. “Wait, so you don’t want to talk about the sex you had?”
“No, I really don’t,” I stated matter-of-factly.
Still confused, he smiled and slapped his hand against my chest, sending me back a few steps so I bumped against the counter. “That good, huh? I get it, man-brony, too speechless from a good fuck.” The douche-canoe wiggled his eyebrows at me, causing a little puke to gather in my mouth. He stretched his giant gym arms over his head and said, “Had one of those nights myself. Met this pair of luscious tits at the gym yesterday; she was working her inner thighs on the machine and staring me down as I pumped a cool three fifty on the bench. She was one of those gym hos who wears a sports bra and a pair of spandex shorts. When she bent over, I could practically see the meat of her pussy begging for me to play around with it. So, what did I do? I went up behind her as she bent over and pelvic thrusted her ass.”
I wanted nothing to do with this conversation. I had zero incentive to see where the dumbbell dumbass was going with this, but I couldn’t help but ask one question. “You shot your junk into her backside? Did you even know her?”
“No, never met her before.”
“But you humped her ass at the gym? How is that appropriate in your mind?”
Freddy threw his head back and laughed. “Bro-seph, you’ve been out of the circuit for too long. That’s how you pick up ladies now.”
By pelvic thrusting unsuspecting women? I sent a mental thank you to Rosie for wanting to be with me. If that was really the new pick-up move, I would never be with anyone . . . ever. You couldn’t pay me enough to shove my dick against an unknown bent-over woman. I respected them too much.
“Wasn’t aware dating a woman for two months was a century of time.”
“Two months too long, in my opinion.” Freddy took one step closer and leaned in to talk to me, as if we were the best of friends, when in fact, if I had the opportunity and I wasn’t afraid the dude could crush my skull, I would chop his dick off. “When you ditch the clinger and you’re back in the game, all you need to do is go up behind women and push your dick into their backs. It helps if you have a halfey so she can get an idea of your size, but don’t go full dick on her, that’s just creepy.”
“Oh, that’screepy? I would never have guessed.” Sarcasm dripped from my mouth, but Freddy was too dense to pick up on it. “And, fuck you, Rosie is not a clinger.” Couldn’t let that comment slip by.
“Wow, brutha. Settle down, I’m sure she’s a specimen in bed. With your good looks, there’s no way you would be tagging along a dog on a leash.”
So many wrong things, just so many.
“Are you hitting on me?” I asked, trying to push his buttons, since I was on the verge of ramming my coffee mug through his forehead.
“What? No,” he practically shouted, looking around. “Bro-tanomo Bay, you know I like the slit and clit in my life. Have you not heard any of the stories I’ve told you? Last week alone I had seven chicks suck my cock, two at the same time, and I boned ten pussies, three in one night. I don’t play meat swords.”
“That’s offensive.” I pointed at him. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is the most offensive thing I’ve ever heard. And it sounds to me like you are overcompensating for some inner dark secrets you aren’t ready to let surface. Answer me this, at the gym do you blow-dry your dick in front of everyone?”
“People who don’t are just asking for a fungal cock.”
I nodded, took a sip of my coffee, and then said, “I think you might be gay.”
“Fuck you; I’m not gay.”
I spoke in calming tones. “It’s all right, there is nothing wrong with being gay. I know some pretty awesome people who are gay; they are just like you and me, they’re not diseased nor do they belong on another planet like some people might think. Being gay might actually bump up your cool factor.”
Crossing his arms, Freddy asked, “Why do you think I’m gay?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “To me, when a guy goes out of his way to tell another man about the amount of ‘pussy’ he eats in a night, he has to be covering up something. There is no way a guy can be that douchey without hiding a secret he’s too scared to let out.”
In all honesty, I had no clue about Freddy’s sexual preference, and I really didn’t care; that was his business, but if I could mind-fuck him for a brief moment in time to get him off my back, I would.
