(This story has been edited to conform to community guidelines)
This is just a younger me when I did not know how to deal with a girl who was not interested. A co-worker said "just walk away" but I hung around so she could play with my emotions. Next time this happened I was wiser and walked away...but here is how I learned to do that.
ps - in my story line "A Pretty Elf in Qeynos" the character of Falco is LOOSELY based on me and how I acted here.
Sex & Violence With Leanne
Leanne showed up in my life at a time when I was so burnt out from work that I had apparently stopped thinking. She was a nice enough girl, though, once you got over the fact that she fucked anything that moved.
The pictures in my album marked as “Leanne” are of Vancouver Model "Amanda". I include them because her face and body remind me very much of Leanne’s, especially her breasts.
A Girl Who Ran with the Wolves
Leanne was this girl I dated for a couple months in Northern Alberta.
Her Dad had run off when she was 10 and her Mom was an alcoholic. She wasted some time with a guy who screwed her without birth control until she needed an abortion, the father dumping her as soon as she had gotten pregnant. Leanne never expected much from men and therefore suffered through a lot of relationships with assholes wiser girls would have easily avoided.
I naïvely assumed she was a nice kid because anyone who had been hurt in as many relationships as she had been couldn’t possibly want to hurt anyone herself. Like most of my assumptions, it was erroneous.
...Or Do You Want What’s
Behind Door #3?
Beats me how Leanne managed it but she sure had a knack for getting into bad relationships. Maybe that includes me.
She had nothing particularly good to say about the guys she had dated so I figured I had it made; me, Mr. Nice Guy, couldn’t help but look good to her after the collection of jerks she had been mixed up with so far in her life.
Has anyone else lamented the abundance of girls who can’t spot a good man when he is standing in front of them with a bouquet of roses in his hands, $100 dollar bills falling out of his pockets and a handsome, honest smile on his face? Leanne was the kind of girl who would not only find that fellow intensely boring but would end up dating the drug addict that stole his Porsche. “I can change him.” she would have assured everybody and she wouldn’t change him one bit.
“I think all guys are bastards.” she told me.
“Then you’ve been hanging out with the wrong kinda guys.” I tried to tell her.
That was the girl I got mixed up with.
Leanne’s First Dates
I found out later Leanne was ready to take me to bed the first night I took her out, like she did with all her other first dates.
I took her to a bar, instead.
Unbeknownst to me, the bartender that night was some immature twit who had already had his turn in Leanne’s bed. He didn’t take my dating her well and kept mixing up our drinks; plopping my pint of Molson Canadian down in front of the girl he had “done the boogie” with a few weeks previous while he served me her Caesar cocktail.
I just thought he was stupid, but Leanne told me later that he was deliberately putting too much Tabasco in her drink. “He knows I don’t want it real spicy.” she complained “He was being a bastard.”
Unusual Breasts
We screwed on our 3rd date. Leanne turned out to be a fun little bedroom bounce, probably due to all the extra practice she was getting with all the other boys.
She had a very attractive body, just to my taste, I reflected as I pulled her bra off for the first time. I blatantly stared at her taut, unusual tits. They were very arousing to look at.
“I like your breasts” I murmured as we fell back onto my bed in each other’s arms. “They’re ugly.” she responded and she held me close as if trying to hide them.
I guessed she was self-conscious about them since they were small and not of a classic shape, but they were quite unique and extremely attractive. Her nipples were perfect in size, colour and texture and I began by sucking on them.
We had a nice fuck, that first time, but nothing special. We did it missionary.
I watched my hard dick slide in and out of her as she lay back on my bed and let me go at it. I didn’t wear a condom, didn’t even ask her if she wanted me to. I just moved in and out of her box until my sperm blasted into her. I kissed her affectionately on her check then rolled over and took her into my arms.
Somewhat belated, I asked “By the way, Leanne, what kind of birth control are we using?” I was starting to worry that I had just knocked her up and maybe my voice conveyed my anxiety.
She burst into laughter at my fears and assured me she was on the pill. I'm pretty sure she was but who knows?
We did it 3 times more times that night. Between bouts of lovemaking we lay together naked under the covers, chatting and giggling about silly things. I fell in love with her in the middle of all the fun (because my life wasn’t nearly complicated enough, it seems.)
I was in total bliss, so sure she felt as affectionately towards me as I was feeling towards her.
My Girlfriend Leanne
The next day at work I drove past Leanne walking down the sidewalk and gave her a loving wave. She returned it somewhat off-handedly. She was walking very slowly.
When I saw her that evening she told me that my cock had bruised her so badly that she couldn’t have walked any faster.
Lots of guys are pretty full of themselves when a girl tells them that, I sure was. I couldn’t hide the fact that I was extremely proud my pecker was big enough to be able to do that.
Sure, that’s quite immature & ridiculous, but...well...I’m was a jerk....ya know?
Leanne was unimpressed that I was so pleased with myself over it, but was a little amused by the way boys’ minds were constructed.
And I missed the most important signal her body language had given off that day: namely, the casual, unenthusiastic wave she had given me as I drove by.....she couldn’t have cared less about me...she just wanted some cock....any cock.
And that’s how it was for the several weeks we dated. Leanne let me have her whenever I wished and I stupidly thought that that meant she was in love with me, or something.
My favourite memory of her was this time after lovemaking she cradled my balls and leaned over to give the base of my cock an affectionate little kiss as it lay there flaccid across my stomach. She raised her head up and looked at my cock while it hardened in response, then planted a second kiss a little farther up. This was followed by a series of increasingly enthusiastic smacks up the full underside length of my erection until she reached my knob, each kiss becoming more intense as her sexual arousal mounted. Having planted one final desperate kiss on my knob she devoured the whole prick without pausing, as if starving for the taste of my fuckmeat, sucking and licking on me like she might on a yummy ice cream cone. What an ego trip I had as she did that!
This other time she fucked with me on my bed, her legs wrapped around my waist. I moved in and out on top of her for a long hour, not cumming. She lay complacently under me as I humped her faster and faster. I timed my thrusts to the natural rhythm of the springs of my mattress as her naked body bounced up and down in sympathy with my fucking motion. I finally came inside her as I whispered “Ohhhhh...Leeee.....anne!”
She told her friends that.....how I would whisper romanticly “Ohhhhh.....Leeee......annnnnnnnne!” each time I came. I suspect now that she thought that made me a wimp or something.
A Pre-emptive Break-up
Then I was suddenly brought face to face with reality. Despite the time we spent together she abruptly dumped me one day, out of the blue.
“You’re too nice a guy.” She told me enigmatically. She told me she had decided to break it off with me because she couldn’t stand the agony of waiting for me to break up with her - sort of Leanne’s own version of Seinfeld’s “pre-emptive breakup”.
She said she didn’t think I was ‘committing’. “I would phone you up and break a date at the last minute and you wouldn’t even get mad or anything, it was like you didn’t care about our relationship!” She was referring to a bunch of times she said she was sick and like an idiot I was disappointed but said "Ok, I understand" instead of realizing she was just not into me.
Living in the Aftershock
If she had just let the relationship end there, I suppose I would have been OK but she kept calling me for a couple weeks on the phone to have conversations about nothing, and like an idiot I let her. Like the Eagles sing “...you can’t be lovers but you’re more than friends, after the thrill is gone...”
I stupidly thought she was trying to rescue some kind of unachievable friendship out of what we had had for a while, and I was dumb enough to accept that if that was all of her I could have then I would take it and be grateful.
I was nothing but confused. Every time she phoned I would hope that this was the call where she was going to suggest we get back together. I couldn’t make out why she didn’t; why she valued me as a friend but not a lover.
And of course, I found it impossible to keep my thoughts platonic; every time I saw her the bumps on her chest reminded me how pretty she looked topless and I would get an erection thinking how utopian it had been for those precious weeks when I was allowed to suck on that little girl’s nipples and ram my hard on into her, my cum lacing her insides.
As if to make it even harder on me, she modelled the lingerie she had purchased in Edmonton last time there and asked me what I thought. What I thought was “If she’s not interested in me, who is she buying lingerie for?”
And it didn’t help that she still asked for some of my ‘famous backrubs’. She would pull off her top and lie half naked chest down on the floor with her little breasts tantalizingly bulging out from her sides. She would unbutton her Levis and push them down a bit so I could massage her lower back.
With all the teasing she was doing in front of me it would have been best if I had just jerked off and forgotten about her. Instead, I kept my boner in my pants, optimistically saving myself for the night she would want me back.
Who That Lingerie Was For
It took a month of non-sex before Leanne told me the truth; she had decided she wanted to date an acquaintance of mine named Garry. Leanne was a very loose girl and her definition of ‘date’ was very loose, too.
Garry was a nice enough person but was, frankly, uneducated and alcoholic in a dead end job. 15 years older than Leanne, he had abandoned his kids the same way Leanne’s dad had abandoned her. “I can change him....” she assured me when I pointed these facts out to her.
For reasons beyond me, she was going to offer her body to him when he got back from his out-of-town job. Meanwhile we couldn’t have sex since she was saving herself up for him.
I had earlier had enough hints for a wiser guy than me to have figured out that that was what was really going on but I had been too stupid to see the obvious. Leanne had once had some implausible story about needing to talk to Garry and could I give her his number?
She couldn’t just wait for him to come back to town; she had to call long distance to where he was working as soon as she could get the number from me. And I had unwittingly messed up all her plans by giving her his work number where there was no answer over the weekend.
I had puzzled over the bizarre story she had given for needing to contact Garry, thinking it didn’t ring true. The idea that she was interested in Garry even crossed my mind for a split second before I immediately dismissed it as totally preposterous.
That was the only reason why she had been calling me every other night and talking for an hour or more with me - trying to work the conversation around to Garry to get information about what town he was in and what hotel he was staying at.
And I had chatted with her, played for a dupe, thinking we had some kind of friendship going.
One hopeful evening I went over to her apartment and chatted. I was so thinking we were going to re-ignite things, maybe even screw. This was the night, all the signs were positive...except they weren't. She just out and told me why she wanted Garry's nighttime number. Then, since I knew Garry better than she did, the little conniver asked me to arrange her first fuck with him!!!
Try to Imagine How Mad I Was
We sat at each end of her couch while she told me all that. I sat there in disbelieving silence, trying to deal with that insane development while curled up in something resembling a fetal position, trying to understand why I had been dumped for a loser like Garry and hurt that all Leanne’s friends had known about it for the past weeks. She had made me look like an idiot.
“Go ahead” She said contritely “Tell me I’m a bitch.”
“Oh...you’re a Bitch, alright!” I willingly complied. “A goddammed fucking....” I took a deep breath and raised my voice “....BITCH!!!!.”
Then I sat there in silence for several minutes, stewing over the whole thing. No, I didn't cry.
I’d been dumped before, but not with the disregard Leanne was showing. I was really having a time dealing with someone who could make love to me for two months then treat me as insignificantly as Leanne was treating me.
She sat at her end of the couch with her legs drawn up, her miniskirt revealing a good portion of her well-shaped thigh. She looked good.
“You do still like me, don’t you?” She finally ventured tentatively, as if nothing was amiss that couldn’t be worked out by talking about it in a rational, adult manner.
“NO!!!....” I said with a vehemence that surprised me. All my anger flowed out of me in a rush at the betrayal, the callousness, the insensitivity, the manipulation. “I...HATE...you!”
I looked at her with nothing but venom. A good backhand might have been deserved but I did not seriously consider giving it to her.
Leanne looked taken aback at my outburst, as if she hadn’t considered my feelings in her own selfish world up ‘til then. As if she hadn’t considered I might have ever felt something for her or that I might have any feelings at all.
She just looked at me in shock and tears suddenly began filling her eyes.
“Well... wh...why...why do you hate me?” she sobbed irrationally, as if she was just an innocent bystander at the traffic accident of life that had just me run over. “Hate Garry, not me!” she pleaded.
Tears ran down her pretty little cheeks while I sat there trying to understand this pretzel logic. I started wondering how I couldn't look past her pretty face and taut breasts and recognize how stupid and small she really was. Wondering why I still felt something towards her, even so, even in the midst of all the bullshit she had just pulled.
She just sat there bawling with her head down while I stared at her in silence. Tears trickled down her face and dripped off the tip of her cute nose. She didn’t wipe them.
Why was she crying, I wondered? She treats a friend like trash and then can’t deal with being despised for it....?
When Erections Attack
Then things got strange. SICK strange.
I started getting turned on by the fact that I had made her cry, acutely aware of all that thigh she was showing. My penis became very hard very fast as I sat there listening to her choking back tears with this big hard-on between my legs, bulging in my jeans.
I was aroused by my newfound power; I couldn’t make her love me but at least I could make her cry and it turned me on.
“Why do you hate me?” she asked again, looking miserable.
I didn’t answer her. I didn’t have time to deal with her stupid question, I was trying to confront the violent feelings that had just awakened in me. I sat there experiencing this sudden, insane urge to pull her off the couch, force her legs open and unilaterally make love to her right there on the living room floor.
Some primitive, angry part of me was stupidly telling me that doing that would resolve a whole bunch of issues;
first, I could selfishly get my rocks off;
second, I could vindictively hurt her in revenge for dumping me so unfeelingly;
and
third, I could maliciously fill her full of my sperm so that when she fucked Garry in a few days she could leave my cum all over his cock.
This insane urge lasted a split second and evaporated; I categorically dismissed the thought as totally unforgivable even as it formed in my mind, but I was still disgusted with myself for having had it. It would have been no less than rape. And maybe she deserved that.
I was confronting, for the first time, some irrational, violent piece of me I had never known existed. I was a nice guy, wasn't I? I really was. So why would I suddenly get such a thought?
I was totally bowled over by the fact that I had told myself for years I was not a mean, violent asshole and now there I was experiencing the urge to do something intensely cruel, even though it would resolve nothing.
I had, in the past, wondered that two people who once had loved each other so much could sink to the depth of hatred they showed after a break-up. I had watched both men and women do some pretty spiteful, destructive things to one another after they had split up and until that point in my life I could not conceive how they could be so vindictive and stupid.
Now, for the first time, I had experienced those very emotions and it was scary to come face to face with that violent aspect of myself. I sat there at my end of the couch; understanding at last the mad violence to which every man and every women can be driven by hurt.
I sat there feeling like scum for having those cruel urges. I guessed I didn’t deserve Leanne, after all.
Confessions
“I don’t hate you” I confessed quietly “I just said that because I wanted to hurt you.”
“Then, can I have a hug?” She asked me through her tears like she really needed someone to love her, as if her planned affair with Garry was to be for physical satisfaction only.
“This is insane.” I thought as I pulled her into my arms and held her. I fell in love with the fool all over again, knowing she was playing me for a sucker.
She lay her head on me shoulder. Her bare thigh pressed hard against my erection. She looked at me in surprise when she felt it but she didn’t pull away.
“Why are you hard for me?” She asked, genuinely puzzled “...Why are you so fucked up over me?....” She said it like she actually cared.
I couldn’t look at her. I looked at the floor and said “I don’t know, Leanne. I just am. I can’t sleep and I’m drinking too much and I’m not accomplishing anything at work....”
After a short pause she kissed my forehead then looked me in the eye. “Well, then, say it...”
I looked up. “Say what?”
“Say IT...!”
I just looked at her.
“SAY it...!” she demanded
“Alright...I love you.”
I desperately held out some faint hope that telling her that would change everything and Leanne would come to her senses and come back to me but it was pure foolishness. She had just been ego-tripping wanting to hear it from me.
She lay her head back on my shoulder and started quietly crying again. I don’t know why she was crying. It was the same way she had cried when she had told me about her long ago abortion. She had told me about it as we lay together in bed, as if I was her Father Confessor. I had tried to tell her it honestly made no difference to me or our relationship, thinking that was what she needed to hear. I know now she wanted to hear some other thing....but I’ll never figure out what exactly. Maybe she thought she would find in Garry a love who would say whatever it was she wanted said.
Bizarre Seduction
After some minutes, I lifted her chin up and licked salty tears off her face. It started as an act of affection but I got turned on by the taste of her salty tears the more I did it. She was still unashamedly pressing against my hard-on. Did the little twit think I wasn’t going to get horny for her under such circumstances?
I tilted her head up some more and tried to kiss her lips but she put both her hands on my chest and pushed me back. “No...” she said gently.
I ignored her and tried again to kiss her.
“NO !!!.” she commanded more sharply.
Again, I ignored her and kissed her anyway, her third “No” was muffled by my mouth. She kept her hands where they were, pushing against my chest, keeping me from moving closer but at the same time answering my kisses with sloppy wet kisses of her own.
Her tongue darted into my mouth. She didn’t stop me from unbuttoning her blouse and pulling one extremely hard nipple out of her bra. It was beautiful, that nipple, 2 inches in diameter and perfectly round, slightly puffy, pink and smooth except for a few goose bumps on the areola. The stalk of the actual nipple stood up proud from her breast, betraying its owner’s desires.
I sucked on it while my hand slipped under her skirt and into her panties. My thumb caressed her clit while my index finger penetrated her tight gash. My ring finger probed up her ass.
Leanne sat there with her legs half open, not resisting. She closed her eyes and breathed quietly, letting me watch her enjoying several small orgasms as my hand worked away inside her, feeling how wet she was getting.
Occasionally she murmured quietly “We can’t have sex....we can’t have sex....” It sounded like a mantra she was repeating to herself.
I pulled her blouse off and flipped her bra across the room. I laid her back on the couch and slid her miniskirt and panties off.
Naked, she spread her legs complacently as if resigned to having yet another man have a screw with her. I positioned myself over her nude body, starting to undo the buttons of my 501’s. I grinned down at her while I slowly exposed my erection button by button.
I peeled off my sweatshirt while proudly allowing my schlong to hover above her mousy brown pubic thatch so she could get a good look at the big hard fuck stick she was giving up for her future with an alcoholic, deadbeat dad.
Life was perfect. Or at least perfect from the viewpoint of a young man with a hard prick sticking straight out from his body and a willing girl naked beneath him with her legs spread. She would be Garry’s sex partner in a few days but that didn’t matter for the next several minutes.
Leanne reached up and pulled me down towards her. She wrapped her arms around me tightly. My nose was buried in the perfumed skin just below her jaw.
As my penis fully penetrated her vagina, buried right up to the hilt in her, she pleaded “Don’t tell Garry.” I knew then that I could have raped her and she never would have told anyone; better to let me get away with it rather than have Garry know I had had her body.
I didn’t answer her. I vindictively let her chew over the possibility that I would tell Garry. I hated her and I loved her and both emotions drove me to start ramming her willing cunt as hard as I could.
Part of me wanted my cock to give her so much pleasure she would instantly come back to me, part of me wanted it to hurt her. I pounded her ass into the sofa as I banged away, wanting to finish before her roommate came home.
The harder I fucked her the more she got into it. Despite herself, she began arching her slim body up into mine as I thrust deep. Leanne had a way of using her vaginal muscles to grip your cock in first one place along its length, then at another place. She knew I got off on her doing that and kept squeezing my prick while we screwed. I think it was another ego trip for her that she could pleasure a lover that way, but that was okay.
Before too long, she started to climax, panting rapidly “Oh, baby...oh, baby...o-oh bay-by” then she let out a long “ohhhhh.......bayyyyyy-beeeeee....!” while her chest flushed red as she orgasmed.
I looked down at her really getting into it and reflected with a lot of satisfaction that she seemed to be incapable of going a week without some cock inside her. Any cock.
I still gloat that I had used her own sex drive to foil her intended fidelity to Garry; maybe I hadn’t been able to make her want me but I sure was able to make her want my cock.
My Money Shot
Having a girl cum because your penis is fucking her is arousing in itself and I began to cum, too. After a couple months of manufacturing rocket-fuel with no orgasm for release, my balls were full. My dick started churning out a nasty thick wad of the stuff as instinct drove me to thrust my hardness as far into Leanne as I could reach, obeying that same urge that thousands of generations of males before me had obeyed.
I enjoyed every centimeter of Leanne’s vagina as I penetrated deep with my last intense thrusts, knowing mounds of white hot seething sperm were being pumped from my testicles, deposited deep inside her.
“Please...” She repeated pathetically from beneath me as I emptied my babies into her “...don’t tell Garry.”
“Whatever.” I said, non-committedly as my orgasm at last subsided. I made a few more thrusts, just to remind that slut that that was my dick in her, not Garry’s. It was a gesture of possession.
The Freshly-Fucked Look
I felt little emotional satisfaction from the completion of our fuck; I was now at the age where I wanted sex with affection, not just sex. Still, I had accomplished my goal, my sperm was now smeared all over Leanne’s insides, marking them as mine. I had humped her like a dog pissing on his territory. She would offer herself to Garry with my jizz in her, the bitch.
Now that she had had her little climax she had an annoyed expression on her face and I guessed she was thinking about Garry and was resenting me for my liberties. Maybe she was resenting the fact that she did not resist my advances and was blaming me.
I lay on top of her, not moving and unsure of myself but still wanting to cuddle. A few minutes beforehand I had reveled in the long hard cock I could wave in her face. It had empowered me and, coupled with her own sexual arousal, Leanne had instinctively taken a submissive attitude when she saw the state of my erection. Perhaps she accepted that her body had done that to me and figured “No” was no longer an option for her.
Now I had jizzed and everything was different. My big, proud cock was now shriveled and floppy. That reduced me to a harmless, useless man in Leanne’s eyes. Subsidence of my orgasm had triggered an instant 360° power shift from me to her. I was nothing but her discarded lover again. I was nobody.
“Get offa me.” Leanne suddenly grunted irritably, her tone conveying nothing but contempt for me. Cuddling was not in the cards. She could sense she was back in charge, no longer cowed by the overt sexual aggression she had so recently awakened in me.
She pushed me away in disgust and moved her hips to make my soft wang fall out of her. She did it so expertly I guessed she had done it before, to other men.
She slid out from under me and stood up. Without a word to me she wandered totally nude into her bathroom.
Despite myself, I still stared in arousal at her pretty ass as it disappeared around the corner, wishing she would come back and hold me close.
I heard her growl in frustration as she angrily tried to fix her hair, grumbling out the door at me about how I had just given her the “freshly-fucked look”.
I caught a glimpse of her reflection leaning forward to examine her graceful neck in the mirror. She muttered theatrically “He better not have left a hickey!”
She said it just loud enough so I could hear her. With that one sentence, and the tone she used, she completed her emasculation of me. That was her revenge on me for taking advantage of her, I could tell she enjoyed it.
When Garry Came Back
Two days later Garry came back to town and it hurt to see his car parked outside Leanne’s townhouse for a day and a half without moving, all the houselights staying off while he humped her and I jealously imagined Leanne’s muscles squeezing Garry’s cock like they had squeezed mine.
Perversely, part of me found the thought of Leanne getting it on with another man to be a real turn-on.
Garry moved in permanently the next weekend. The phone stayed in Leanne’s name since the phone company wouldn’t let Garry have an account until he paid off his outstanding long distance bills from 6 years ago.
Leanne still let me fuck her once in a while, when Garry pissed her off for drinking too much. She would show up at my door late at night, after Garry had passed out. After talking for an hour or so we would go to bed. Even though I held her gently and talked her relationship troubles over with her it was plain I was still second choice for a screw.
I moved inside her, trying to make love to her, hoping she would come to her senses and see I was the one for her but she showed me no affection as I filled her box with cum. She just wanted to get her revenge on Garry in the only way she thought a girl could; by taking another man’s baby-glue inside her. I was just a convenient sperm bank, literally her “second banana”.
She was welcome to stay all night, but Leanne would hurry home to Garry before dawn.
EPILOGUE
This madness went on for a 7 or 8 more weeks. I would stay awake long into the small hours of the morning, hoping that that was the night Leanne would come out of the dark night knocking on my door, willing to have sex with me instead of Garry.
My work performance got progressively worse. My boss fired me and I gratefully packed everything I owned in my Dodge Dakota and gladly headed back to Vancouver. There I hung out on the Spanish Banks eyeing the semi-nude girls for a month then headed to Europe, hoping that that would somehow get my head back together.
Leanne had really messed me up for a time and only now, in writing my thoughts down, do I realize she haunted me for more months than I realized back then. Over the next few years painful memories and disillusionment with love would hold me back from committing to my next girlfriend, Kit, who deserved better than that.
I sent Leanne a postcard from Norway, dated July 23rd, 1991. It was full of unimportant things, as if to let her know I was over her.
On Paros, in the Greek Islands, my very drunken diary entry for September 8th, read in part....
....In the evening saw a movie, Sea of Love, starring Al Pacino and Ellen Barkin. Ellen Barkin’s character reminded me of that ultra slut Leanne - the Bitch even worked in a clothing store like Leanne did and wore the kind of outfits Leanne would have.
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