Strapper Takes New York

I offer a sincere thank you to PPP and his wife for allowing me to highjack their Literotica personas. Please remember that this is just a fictional story....

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Ah!.......the gut wrenching agony, the knife stab pains in your stomach, the feeling of constantly wanting to reach for the trash can, the emotional dread that overcomes your very soul...

No, I wasn't about to become a willing cuckold....

....instead, the words "approved" appeared by my latest story on Literotica this past Memorial Day morning, and I had the whole day to sit around.......and wait.

You know the anxiety's bad when I passed up a second plate of baked macaroni and cheese at the family picnic. And, hell, I certainly didn't need any baked beans. I knew I'd be sitting on the toilet enough already as the comments rolled in...

My brother asked me, as a sat down the tenth bottle of Rolling Rock, if everything was OK....

"Sure!" I slurred, "I'm just havin' a good time..."

I lied.

To show you how pathetic I am.....well.....it was one of the longest days of my life. And, yes, I am pathetic in more ways than one. Trust me on that...

So what would be the verdict on my Aftermath story?

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Wow! I couldn't believe it!

To be the biggest loser in life, and then to suddenly have written a story that lots of people seem to enjoy, you can't imagine what a thrill that is... even my literary hero threw me a bone! I was slobbering and drooling over my laptop for days...

For someone like me, with very, very low self esteem, the boost to my ego brought me up to a level that I could now almost peek at myself in the mirror. Self loathing was magically replaced by self dislike. I was making great progress!

For the next two days, my head was so freaking large that my brother had to bring a cot over to my garage, so I had a place to sleep at night. I couldn't fit my ears thought the doorway to my house. I rode on the back of his pickup truck to work. The guard at the entrance to the government facility I work at almost didn't let me through the gates because he didn't have Mr. Potato Head on his list...

Women actually looked at me! Maybe they always had, but it's hard to know when you're constantly looking at your shoes. A cute secretary smiled at me and I got a hard-on. It was the greatest day of my life!

I imagined the afterglow of having a successful story must like the afterglow of sex, the sense of pride and accomplishment of giving your partner wonderful orgasms. But then again, honestly, I didn't really know...

I have always been like this, always felt like this, especially around women. Lower than dog shit. The worst at everything I've ever tried. The fact that I was an employed taxpaying citizen must be some kind of divine miracle. It's a helluva life, but maybe, just maybe, my whole Literotica experience gave me something to build on...

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A week passed and each morning I logged onto the website and checked the comments, hoping maybe someone overseas or someone staying up late had read one of my stories and decided to write. Nothing.

Usually I'd read a new story before going to work. Usually I'd leave for work disappointed. Seems there really aren't a lot of true loving wives in the loving wives section. More than anything else in the whole world.....what I longed for......what I dreamed about...was a simple loving wife.

The days passed and Aftermath dropped off the lists and soon all was forgotten. I returned to my bed, started driving myself to work, and basically became an invisible loser again. I guess I needed to write another story...

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Stopping at the local convenience store on the way to work for coffee one morning, I looked at the monitor for the lottery machine. The Powerball jackpot was now over 200 million dollars. What the hell, I knew I wasn't going to win...

"Give me three Powerball tickets with my coffee, please," I said to the clerk, laying a five dollar bill on the counter.

"That'll be seven sixty nine..."

"Huh?"

"Powerball tickets are now two dollars each."

What the hell is going on in this country? Since when do prices double overnight? As I dug in my wallet for another Lincoln, I noticed the clerk smirking at me. She was young, pregnant and attractive, especially if tattoos, facial piercings and green hair float your boat. Throwing caution to the wind, I summoned all my courage and spoke to her...

"Say, if I win this jackpot, I'll fix you up real nice."

"Great! I'm two months behind on my lot rent, my Omega needs a new transmission, and my boyfriend just got locked up in county for six months for dealing...so, yeah, good luck to both of us!"

I grabbed my tickets, lowered my head and shuffled out the door.

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Only in the world of erotic fiction can you actually win the lottery. I've been wasting hundreds of dollars every year for the past twenty five and have only won a buck or two here and there.

But as fate would have it, word got around that someone from our state had won the jackpot, then someone from our town, then someone from that convenience store, so I dug through the center console of my Fusion for the ticket and finally checked...

What are your wishes, what are your dreams when suddenly money is no object? Did I want to buy into the Pittsburgh Steelers? Bag a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader? Travel the world? Drive a Lamborghini? Would any of these possessions really make me happy?

The only thing I passingly considered was hiring a hit man to knock off all of the Kardashians. Damn, I'm sick of seeing those freaking people every time I go to the grocery store!

Surprisingly, though, what I really wanted most was just to feel normal. Just to relax and be able to talk to women without feeling like throwing up. My ultimate goal was to find a loving wife, someone who could accept me for what I am. A nice shy humble guy, a lovable loser...

My brother clearly stated that this was the wrong approach. "Fuck that shit!" he declared as he loaded six Uzis into the back of his brand spanking new 2013 Ford F-450 quad cab. We were driving back to his newly constructed bunker.

"This country could collapse any day now. So live it up, bro! Find some piece of ass and bang the hell out of it! You got the money, man; any woman will spread for dough... This is your big chance! Get all the pussy you can!"

Arrogance, huh? I guess I could try that... I tried explaining to him, "You know it's not really in my nature, but perhaps you're right..."

"That's it, bro, you can do it!"

I contacted the girl who sold me the winning ticket. She was now driving a little two door Honda that sat three inches off the ground with a giant tailpipe and living in a new condo, complete with a swimming pool in the back, courtesy of me. She quickly agreed to meet for lunch. Her hair was now blond streaked with pink but the piercings were gone...

"You changed my life. I'm taking classes at the community college now. I know my baby will always have money for college thanks to the trust fund you set up. I dumped my loser boyfriend. Is there ANYTHING I can do for you?" She asked me, licking her lips.

My stomach churned. It made me nervous just to sit across from her. I just couldn't have sex with her... I just couldn't... No way... But I had to do SOMETHING; I promised my brother I would try...

"Hmmmm...you know...I would... would really appreciate it if you...you....would get my name tattooed on your breasts, perhaps in an arc...above your....nipples..."

"What?"

"That way your baby will learn who's taking care of it...while...it's nursing..."

"Well, that's pretty fucking sick; you're a sick old bastard! Hell, and I was even gonna swallow for you!" She declared as she stormed out of the restaurant.

Perhaps my brother was wrong. Arrogance simply won't work for me. Maybe it was my sad fate in life to be alone. Finding a loving wife, I feared, was going to be a very long term project for me...

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A week later, I sat at my computer one night reading the seemingly endless rash of Indian cuckold stories in the Loving Wives section and suddenly a crazy idea popped into my head. Hell, the comments to these stories were infinitely more interesting than the stories themselves. Why weren't these people given their just due? Why weren't these people given any awards? The commentators, as writers, were equally if not more thoughtful, and usually twice as entertaining as the stories.

Literotica has monthly contests for writers and it has green editor's choice symbols, but what about some recognition for the commentators. Suddenly it all became crystal clear. I was flush with cash. Eureka! (wait, I used this word in the last story) Make that...Shazam! I would sponsor the first Literotica Loving Wives commentator awards banquet!

I could gather up all the top commentators, hand out some awards and prizes, and show my appreciation for how much I've enjoyed their entertainment over the years. And besides, I did have a bit of morbid curiosity over what these folks were really like...seriously, haven't you ever wondered?

I shot off an e-mail to Laurel; to get the ball rolling asking her how such a Literotica sponsored event could take place. Needless to say, I was met with some grave skepticism. Seems there were some serious privacy issues to work out. A cashier's check in the amount of $ 100,000 dollars allowed her to believe that I was being genuine. Suddenly, all invitations and arrangements would come through the Literotica website. In this country today, it's truly amazing how real cash can influence things...

For me, money was no object. I decided that New York City would be the most central location and rented a banquet room at the Waldorf Astoria and reserved thirty guest rooms for a weekend including the penthouse suite for me. To sweeten the pot, I would provide free first class air fare for all invited commentators and their significant others, all taxies and shuttles, the rooms, all meals, spa services, and an unlimited bar. Who in their right mind would pass up a free weekend in the Big Apple with all the booze you could drink? I felt confident most would attend.

Laurel and I put together a list of the top twenty commentators of the last year, plus a few Hall of Famers like HarryinVA. All in all, we kept the number to twenty five, because do you know how expensive this was? High six figures... The only person we could not invite was Mr. Anonymous because we could not locate his whereabouts. Well, fuck him anyway...

As the big weekend neared, I was excited with anticipation! Who really were these people? Were they freaks? Were they just like me? Would they enjoy themselves? Would they get along? At the last minute, I contacted the folks at the Waldorf Astoria to arrange for some off duty New York City police officers to act as security. No sense taking a chance...

Finally the big weekend arrived. I rented a huge stretch limo and picked up HDK and his wife, and BetrayedByLove and Barbara on the way up to NYC. Needless to say, I was humbled in the presence of my literary hero, and I kept having to pinch myself...

I asked Betrayed in the limo, what the heck is the deal with the troll who writes, "Smoked a fat cock, betrayed!" after every one of his comments? He shrugged his shoulders, "Hell, if I know, perhaps we'll find out together this weekend..." Ah...the politics and etiquette of commentators and trolls...so much to consider and learn...

Tazz flew in from Las Vegas, Huedogg from Tokyo, Duna from Budapest, Lickideesplit and Flordiaryan from down south, Pistolpackingpete from Boston, Lauren drove up from Jersey, Sid and Derro (who quite unknowingly was instrumental in helping me decide to start writing) from California, Witless and Chytown from the Windy City. Because a lot of the arrangements were made through Laurel, I had no idea where many of the others were coming from... Hell, I just wrote the checks...

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I cleared my throat and tapped my spoon on my water glass at 7 o'clock on Friday evening...

"Welcome my friends, my name is Strapper, and I'd like to thank you all for coming to New York City to celebrate the joy and escapism that is erotic fiction writing, in this, the first ever Literotica Loving Wives banquet. You are being recognized as the most prolific of the commentators... so enjoy yourselves! Eat, drink and be merry! And remember, the reason we are here is to mingle, socialize and have fun!"

And with those comments, I excused myself and went and sat at the bar. Robert, the bartender, was under instructions to make sure my margaritas had plenty of salt on the rim. As I surveyed the group, I was truly amazed at how ordinary everyone was. There were really no freaks. If I didn't know any better, that every one of us was in some way a closet pervert, I have guessed that we wouldn't have been noticeably different than your average Sunday afternoon church picnic group.

The biggest surprise to me was HarryinVA. Based on his endless acidic comments, I would have thought he was the biggest asshole ever. Turns out I was totally wrong. Just a really nice quiet salt of the earth kind of guy...but a maniac behind the keyboard...

The night wore on and the alcohol liberally flowed. I talked to the various commentators and enjoyed meeting all of them. But they were drawn like a moth to a flame to the various discussions at the tables; the separation of love and sex, swinging and sharing versus absolute fidelity, and the other usual topics that make the Loving Wives category such a fun place to be...

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When I saw her walking up to me, my heart about stopped. Tall, willowy, with frosted blond hair, she was like some Nordic goddess. She moved with a grace that suggested royalty. I stared at her in the mirror behind the bar. Mesmerized, I simply couldn't take my eyes off of her. And then she turned and faced me. Dear Lord, I wanted to run! I fixed my gaze into the lime green of my margarita glass...

"Hi! My name is Brooke Jones..." she started. "Thank you, Strapper, for this wonderful weekend..."

"Jerry...Jerry is my real name," as I tried to look up at her, "You're very welcome; I hope you and your husband enjoy yourselves...and your husband is?"

"Oh I'm sorry. I'm Mrs. Pistolpackingpete," she smiled.

"With a woman as beautiful as you, I figured he must be packing more than a pistol. I'm thinking maybe a bazooka or a long rifle."

Jesus! What just happened? Did I really just say that to a woman? How many drinks had I? Robert must have been putting the top shelf tequila in my margaritas...

"You're too funny," she laughed, "No, he does more than OK in the bedroom, but he's not going to be starring in any adult movies anytime soon."

"Well, I think he's a really lucky man..."

"Thank you. The real lucky person here tonight is your wife. I REALLY enjoyed your last story. She must be very happy with you... Is Karen here? I'd love to meet her..."

"Sadly, no...............There is no Karen..."

"What?"

"I'm not married..."

"What do you mean? I read all about your relationship, your marriage..."

"It was all just a story, Brooke. A fictional story..."

"Noooooooooo! But it all seemed so......real!"

"Well, I put a lot of time and effort into the story. Honestly, it's even worse than that..."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never even had a girlfriend..."

"Noooooooo!"

"This is very embarrassing, but actually, I've never ever been with a woman..."

"Noooooooooooo!"

"It's the truth. I'm probably the world's only forty nine year old virgin..."

She stood there for a moment just staring at me, a confused look on her face, "But I don't understand...I mean.....you're a good looking guy...kind of handsome, actually..."

"Really? Thanks...."

"...And you're in shape...and you've got these big broad shoulders...I mean... you're a big strappin' guy if you'll pardon the expression..."

"Wow! Thanks..." I smiled.

"....And you've got dimples..."

"Yes, I have those, too..." I replied, blushing.

"I'm sorry, Jerry. I just don't get it..." She leaned into me and whispered into my ear. "Do you have a tiny penis? Is that why......"

"About 7 inches with slight curve..." I turned to Robert the bartender. "Do you use fresh bananas for your daiquiris?"

"Yes, I get a new bunch at the beginning of every shift," he replied.

"Can I see them?"

"Certainly."

I pulled off one of the larger pieces of fruit. "Brooke, it's kind of like this only a little thicker. From everything I've read, I'm pretty normal..."

"Oh my!" she swallowed hard.

At one of the tables the arguments were getting loud, and I distinctly heard the phrase "you willing cucks" being used.

"Maybe you better go calm down your husband, Brooke..."

"Ah... Let Pete have his fun...normally I have to listen to him shout at the computer screen in the evenings...at least this way he can live out his alter ego...but I must say, the open bar is probably not the best for him...."

Further shouting erupted. Again the term "cuckold" rose above all other words...

"It certainly is a charged topic..." I stated.

"No doubt." Brooke replied.

We kind of stared into our drinks, glancing at each other quickly...

"So how's your marriage, Brooke?"

"It's good...Pete's a great guy. Great father, a good provider... But.....you know....."

"No, I'm sorry, actually I don't...."

"Of course, I'm sorry, Jerry that was inconsiderate of me... It's just when you've been married a long time; sometimes the relationship loses a little spark. You fall into a routine. This weekend is actually very important for us... We kind of need to reconnect..."

"Well, hopefully, this weekend is just the jolt your marriage needs... New York is a very romantic city. Here's to you and Pete..." as I raised my glass in a toast.

"Thank you, you're really a sweet guy..."

After smiling at each other in the mirror for another minute, she reached and touched my forearm...

"Jerry, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How come you've never...been with a woman...I mean...it seems so ridiculous that someone wouldn't have snapped you up by now...I mean... you seem to have a lot going for you..."

"I guess I have low self esteem... I'm really shy. Beautiful woman make me nervous. Look at my hands; they're shaking just sitting beside you..."

"My goodness, they are.........Do you really...... think I'm beautiful?"

"Stunning!"

We stared silently into our drinks for another minute.

"Well, I want to try to help you, Jerry. You deserve to have love in your life, and perhaps I know a way that perhaps will allow you to get over your shyness..."

"God, Brooke... I'd be willing to try anything..."

"Ok... Now you obviously can write...so talk to me like you're writing words on the page. Think of me as a story, what would you say?"

"It's not that easy..."

"Please try..."

"Ok, just off the top of my head..... I would say that your golden hair dances off your shoulders likes fields of wheat in a gentle fall breeze."

"Oh...."

"See, Brooke, this isn't working. I'm speaking in clichés. I'm not doing justice to you..."

"No..no...no... You're doing just fine, trust me. Please continue..."

"Ok..... I would say that your pale blue eyes remind me of the color of the sky on the day the universe was created."

"Yes..."

"I would say....Oh Hell..." I gently took her hand and placed her palm on my chest...

"Oh my God! I can literally feel your heart jumping in your chest..."

"Yes, it is Brooke..."

Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking broke our connection. Across the banquet room fists were flying, chairs were being swung; grown men were rolling on the floor. At least three different people claimed they were going to kill someone. New York City's finest arrived and started putting people in handcuffs.