Re: KosherBacon's writefaggotry: Shizune/Hisao, Misha Page 10
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 12:04 am
No lesbians in this one, I swear on Hanako's grave. I'm not 100% satisfied that I accomplished what I set out to do with this story, probably because I decided to make it shorter than usual. Not my best work by any means, but it was fun to write. Since I got this out of the way, I'm hopeful that I could write more, better fics with this sort of pairing in the future.
Visual aid for ya.
================================================================================================================================
Make 'Em Cry
================================================================================================================================
”I'm sorry Hisao, but I'm not interested in any sort of relationship right now. If only you had been more forthcoming earlier, I might have been more amenable to your request.”
“You're terrible, Hisao! You skip out our morning jogs and just NOW you want to spend time with me?! Nah-uh!”
“Dude... you thought I liked you? Just because I complimented the way you mix paint doesn't mean I want to have your babies.”
“Hi-H-Hisao? I... I-I-I I can't! I'm sorry, IHAVETOGONOW!”
“Hisao, although I value our time together as friends, I cannot condone your reckless behavior in search of romance, nor can I agree to be a part of it. Maybe you should take a step back and reorganize your priorities in life.”
“Hicchan! How could you?! Shicchan warned me about this but I defended you all the way. I know the other girls rejected you... and... you thought of me as a backup plan, didn't you? You thought that 'Shizune's fat friend' was going to be an easy lay, huh? G-G-Get out!”
Well, that sucked.
I crashed down onto my bed like a felled tree at the end of one lousy-ass week. Five girls asked out, five rejections. Seriously, what were the chances that ALL of them would throw my confession back into my face? I thought that at least Misha would've accepted...
Oh, that's right, that kind of thinking is what she was so pissed about to begin with.
It didn't make any sense. I landed Iwanako by doing absolutely nothing. I was just myself and she came floating in out of nowhere. I thought that at least being close friends with Shizune, Emi, Rin, Hanako, Lilly, and Misha would have improved my chances by a good margin.
I guess I could've just kept to myself and been neutral to them like I was with Iwanako, but I had no idea how long that girl was jocking me. Her attraction to me could have been in the works since preschool. I just didn't have that kind of time at Yamaku.
“What the hell, Nakai? What'd I tell ya about locking your door? If I was a Feminist suicide bomber, your shit would be all fucked up right now.”
“If you were a suicide bomber, then you could've just blown me away from outside.”
Kenji scowled like he usually did whenever I battered open a hole in his logic and straightened his glasses.
“I was testing your critical thinking skills just now.. You pass... for now. Anyways, think you can spot me a couple hundred? I'm throbbing for some Melty Blend right now.”
Despite what was indicated by my impromptu “psych test,” my better judgment was currently offline, so I dumped a couple thousand yen in coins into his sweaty palm.
“Whoa there, Mother Theresa, what's with all the charity? Are you dying or something?”
“Sure, why not?”
Kenji swiped my feet off the foot of the bed before sitting down next to me.
“Alright, Bro, what's got you all emo and shit? Spill it before I stick truth serum into your sack.”
“It's uh...”
I hesitated to tell Kenji what was on my mind. Knowing him and his gynophobia, I expected Kenji to say some snide remark about me being a pussy-whipped fool or at least an “I told you so.” Somehow, those shoddy eyes of his read me like a book and he figured things out without me saying a thing.
“Sucks, doesn't it? You think you've gotten a nice thing going with a girl, ya think she's open to you, like you can tell her anything, like she's your best friend, like you love her, then BAM! Shot down in flames.”
“You know it.”
“Hell yeah, I know it. I know the feeling too well. True bros thrive off of friendship and emotional intimacy. You think you can develop those feelings with a woman and turn it into love, but you can't, you want to know why?”
“Why's that?”
“Women don't like nice guys who do nice things to them. You do that and they'll love you like a friend or at best a brother. Good luck getting ass like that. Women of the world today have all been brainwashed by the Feminist Agenda.”
“Oh boy, here we go...”
“Women are just naturally wired to demand control over everything in their environment. They don't want a best friend for a boyfriend, they want a slave. The Feminists understand this and have used those biological urges to construct a trillion-yen conspiracy over thousands of years called 'love.' It's all a sham, dude. Everything you know about romance and relationships is wrong. Everything from chocolates to monogamy is an artificial construct that goes against nature.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Think about a 'normal relationship' as you know it. First, you humble yourself and beg a girl to give you the time of day. Then you essentially pay for her affection with dates, gifts, trips, and junk. It's an elaborate system of prostitution that works on a mental and spiritual level. Then you buy her an engagement ring, pray that she'll 'put up with you' for the rest of your lives, bust your ass to get a good job so you can support her lifestyle and IF you're lucky, she won't divorce you and take everything you got. Next thing you know, she's got a bunch of snotnosed kids to keep you trapped in her cage forever.”
“You're nuts, man. If it really is all a scheme, then what's the alternative?”
“Think of how civilized cultures did things back in their early days, before things started going to shit. Men were KINGS of their households. Women came running to them with a dowry and begged to be associated with their greatness. Wives, multiple ones, stayed in the home to make sandwiches and serve their lords. That's how things were during the height of every civilization. If gender dynamics were always the way they are now, we would've never gotten out of the stone age because MEN are the ones who get shit done.”
Kenji's reasoning was satisfyingly logical. As flawed as his grasp of sociology and sex relations probably were, his words were exactly what I needed to hear.
“If you MUST seek out female companionship, you better change your game if you're going to succeed and not be at their whims. You need to forget everything you know about courtship. Over seventy-five percent of our learned social skills is centered around getting into a girl's skirt, so it's going to be hard to let go. First, stop putting girls up on a pedestal above you. They're just tits and associated hardware.”
“That's awfully progressive of you...”
“Look, broads don't see men as equals so why should we keep revering them? You know how I said that women only understand control? If you want to be respected by them, you gotta dominate them. Go ahead, be a dick. Not a childish one, though. You gotta put them in their place hard and often. Before you know it, they'll be drawn to your macho power and will be squirting over ANY act of kindness you give them.”
Kenji moved over and examined my face as best as he could. He shook his head with disdain and flicked at my hair.
“You're not going to build a 'cool guy' mystique like that. Your hair looks dumb, you're all skinny, and I could tell by your face that you smile too damned much. An ugly asshole is just an ugly asshole. A pretty asshole is a much sought after sex-god.”
“You're not exactly Tom Selleck yourself.”
“Come on girly-mahn,” he replied with a poorly executed Austrian accent, “let's go hit the gym and pump iron.”
...
“Dude! Don't do that!”
“Don't do what?” Kenji asked as if he was innocent.
“That thing... with your pecs.”
“What thing?” he quipped, jiggling his monstrous pecs with every syllable. “Oh, this? It's got the same effect on women. You bounce the beefcake a little, and they'll completely lose track of whatever they were saying, as if you rebooted their brains. No matter what, they'll just be thinking of how awesome it would be to run their hands all over your bod. Try it.”
In front of the mirror, I practiced dancing my pecs in sync with my speech until I managed to keep a straight face while doing so. Our fanatical dedication to our appearance was really paying off. I looked like I was smuggling casaba melons in my sleeves wherever I went and I caught many a girl drooling over me just about every day.
I was one gorgeous motherfucker.
Kenji wasn't too shabby looking either, even though he didn't have a clear-cut motivation for bloating up like I did. Like true blood-brothers, we kept each other in check, helped each other out, pushed each other when we seemed like we were about to give up, and it paid off. In spite of my heart and his Kenji-ness, we were a pair of classical Adonises. Dip us in marble and send us to a museum, baby. Or better yet, bronze. We were tanned enough to pass for a pair of original Rodans already.
After our morning workout, we showered, then got ready for school. Since it was to be the first day of my grand revenge against womankind, I ditched the uniform and donned my freshly tailored linen pants, silk shirt, fat 24 karat Cuban link necklace, and gators. Hell fucking yes, I looked baller.
I practiced my kissy-faces while spiking my hair before I stepped out the door to pave over Yamaku with a flood of pure awesome. All those broads wouldn't know what hit them. I unbuttoned the top half of my shirt when I stepped into the classroom. I just had a tribal chest piece done and I had to show it off. Mutou looked like he was going to make some fuss over my steez, but he shut up before he even started. Good thing too, I didn't want to ruin my threads by giving the teacher a lesson.
“Ey, Misha, be a good girl and get Shizzy for me.”
Misha looked like a fat kid in a candy store. Well, she was halfway there, anyway. Giddily, she yanked her girl over to my desk. I raised my eyebrow to both of them and suddenly they both looked like they needed a change of underwear. The whole slightly-hostile aloofness sure chilled those girls out.
It was insane. I didn't even say anything to those chicks really but they followed me around all the way to my room at the end of the day. The high and mighty class president who looked down her nose at me and turned me down? I had her bent over on my bed. She couldn't suck dick worth a damn, though. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to use her tongue for anything but eating.
Misha, on the other hand, she could suck a mean dick. Hell, she could probably suck a golf ball through a garden hose if she tried. But did she swallow? Hell yeah, she swallowed! I don't think that girl ever had anything in her mouth she didn't like, if you know what I mean.
A little after curfew, I sent them along their merry way and more or less told them that I expected them to fuck each other in front of me next time we hooked up.
The next morning, Misha and Shizune were all riding my ass at the beginning of class. I didn't have time for constant dick-riders, though. I had other plans that day. A bored shrug and an uninterested sigh and I had them heartbroken and begging for more. They'd just have to wait.
Hanako practically fainted when I approached her. I had to play things a little gentler with her. I gave her a smile, bought her a drink from the vending machine, and showed her how there was a nice guy underneath my ripped exterior. Well, a nice guy if she deserved it. Back in her room, I had her on a beanbag chair and I beat her pussy up like it owed me money.
The next morning, I put on my Tap-Out gear and track pants, then headed for the field to give Emi a little something to lighten her day. Would ya believe it, she got tired on me. I damn well near fucked her legs off in the boy's locker room, with the jocks rooting me on when they got back from their morning drills.
At lunch, I hung around in the art club room and talked to Rin for a bit. I still couldn't understand a damned thing she was talking about but I kept telling her she was deep and unique. Every time she brought up some artsy stuff, I nodded and bullshitted my way into sounding like I cared. After a while, just outta the blue, she asked “Hey, wanna do it?” and that was that. I didn't even have to start things.
Even with my game on lock, I still was on guard when I hooked up with Lilly. She knew I fucked her best friend just the other day, so I knew there was some surprise in store for me. And sho' nuff, I got a surprise. Bet ya didn't know Lilly liked it in the ass, did ya? Everyone thought Lilly was so kind, unconditionally accepting, and more insightful than the others, but she wasn't. Even blind broads are superficial tramps. In fact, she was even more insecure and picky than normal chickies, since she couldn't see how good looking I was and only had the word of other girls to judge against.
I got a little bored with the breezy that night so my bro and I took the train into the city and bounced every nightclub. I got my drank on, I dropped some E, and we fist-pumped the night ablaze.
The next morning, and by morning I mean about two in the afternoon, my groupies came for their dose of vitamin-H. I heard the girls squabble amongst themselves over who was gonna get it first.
“Hey Shicchan, I go first.”
“Good luck with that, Hanako and I are going to double-team Hisao today.”
“Emi, you told me you wouldn't wear that. He doesn't like cheerleaders anyway.”
“It was all I had that was clean!”
Women. No, not women, girls. Stupid little girls who didn't even care that I was using them and their friends. Females think they're so goddamned smart, like they could show a little leg and play coy just to get men wrapped around their little fingers and toes. Well, men could play that game too. Get a little meat on ya, dress a little fresh, and any dame, no matter how far she has her head up her ass with herself, will turn into a drooling little schoolgirl. It was mind-blowing just how low these broads went for a little ding-a-ling. Was that the feeling of power that they felt whenever they dealt with the old me?
You know, I would've been happier if they were a little trickier. Hell, I would've been fine if they were at least a little pissed that I've been spreading myself around. The girls I fell in love with had minds of their own. They had their own will, and they made me work for it. Seeing my once-friends degrade themselves like that made me lose respect for them, nay, women period. I loved those girls, they were my friends, but when I threw on a pretty face, they just became a bunch of cheap hos that didn't mean shit to me anymore. Just like my bro said before, bitches ain't shit.
I pushed past the crowd, made Hanako swoon when I brushed against her, and knocked on Kenji's door.
You know what the difference is between men and women? Deep down, we're all the same, but women are just complicated for the sake of being complicated. With men, what you see is what you get. We act like our brains are in our dicks because... they are. Women, on the other hand, throw on a cloak of bullshit to cover up the fact that they're all just cheap sluts and call it “personality.”
The girls waited outside patiently while me and Kenji went at it. Guys know what guys like. You don't need to teach them how to give good head. I didn't have to remind Kenji to not bite it. Giving it to the girls was a'ight; giving it to Kenji was better, it was real. The only time I ever felt real love at Yamaku was whenever I was creating a storm of raw machismo when having sex with Kenji. No lovey-dovey bullshit, just pounding and getting pounded. I appreciated the refreshing straightforwardness of being with Kenji.
The girls knew what we were up to since we made no attempt to be discreet. Did they get grossed out? No. As soon as I got out, they all grabbed at my beefstick before I even got to wash it off. The girls I loved were gone, long gone.
I felt sorry for those whores. I could've done anything and everything I wanted to them, but in the ways that really mattered, they'd never have me.
Don't hate the player, hate the game.
-End.-
Also, I'd like to thank leotrak for finishing his man-love fic before I did and posting it to break the yaoi-barrier
Visual aid for ya.
================================================================================================================================
Make 'Em Cry
================================================================================================================================
”I'm sorry Hisao, but I'm not interested in any sort of relationship right now. If only you had been more forthcoming earlier, I might have been more amenable to your request.”
“You're terrible, Hisao! You skip out our morning jogs and just NOW you want to spend time with me?! Nah-uh!”
“Dude... you thought I liked you? Just because I complimented the way you mix paint doesn't mean I want to have your babies.”
“Hi-H-Hisao? I... I-I-I I can't! I'm sorry, IHAVETOGONOW!”
“Hisao, although I value our time together as friends, I cannot condone your reckless behavior in search of romance, nor can I agree to be a part of it. Maybe you should take a step back and reorganize your priorities in life.”
“Hicchan! How could you?! Shicchan warned me about this but I defended you all the way. I know the other girls rejected you... and... you thought of me as a backup plan, didn't you? You thought that 'Shizune's fat friend' was going to be an easy lay, huh? G-G-Get out!”
Well, that sucked.
I crashed down onto my bed like a felled tree at the end of one lousy-ass week. Five girls asked out, five rejections. Seriously, what were the chances that ALL of them would throw my confession back into my face? I thought that at least Misha would've accepted...
Oh, that's right, that kind of thinking is what she was so pissed about to begin with.
It didn't make any sense. I landed Iwanako by doing absolutely nothing. I was just myself and she came floating in out of nowhere. I thought that at least being close friends with Shizune, Emi, Rin, Hanako, Lilly, and Misha would have improved my chances by a good margin.
I guess I could've just kept to myself and been neutral to them like I was with Iwanako, but I had no idea how long that girl was jocking me. Her attraction to me could have been in the works since preschool. I just didn't have that kind of time at Yamaku.
“What the hell, Nakai? What'd I tell ya about locking your door? If I was a Feminist suicide bomber, your shit would be all fucked up right now.”
“If you were a suicide bomber, then you could've just blown me away from outside.”
Kenji scowled like he usually did whenever I battered open a hole in his logic and straightened his glasses.
“I was testing your critical thinking skills just now.. You pass... for now. Anyways, think you can spot me a couple hundred? I'm throbbing for some Melty Blend right now.”
Despite what was indicated by my impromptu “psych test,” my better judgment was currently offline, so I dumped a couple thousand yen in coins into his sweaty palm.
“Whoa there, Mother Theresa, what's with all the charity? Are you dying or something?”
“Sure, why not?”
Kenji swiped my feet off the foot of the bed before sitting down next to me.
“Alright, Bro, what's got you all emo and shit? Spill it before I stick truth serum into your sack.”
“It's uh...”
I hesitated to tell Kenji what was on my mind. Knowing him and his gynophobia, I expected Kenji to say some snide remark about me being a pussy-whipped fool or at least an “I told you so.” Somehow, those shoddy eyes of his read me like a book and he figured things out without me saying a thing.
“Sucks, doesn't it? You think you've gotten a nice thing going with a girl, ya think she's open to you, like you can tell her anything, like she's your best friend, like you love her, then BAM! Shot down in flames.”
“You know it.”
“Hell yeah, I know it. I know the feeling too well. True bros thrive off of friendship and emotional intimacy. You think you can develop those feelings with a woman and turn it into love, but you can't, you want to know why?”
“Why's that?”
“Women don't like nice guys who do nice things to them. You do that and they'll love you like a friend or at best a brother. Good luck getting ass like that. Women of the world today have all been brainwashed by the Feminist Agenda.”
“Oh boy, here we go...”
“Women are just naturally wired to demand control over everything in their environment. They don't want a best friend for a boyfriend, they want a slave. The Feminists understand this and have used those biological urges to construct a trillion-yen conspiracy over thousands of years called 'love.' It's all a sham, dude. Everything you know about romance and relationships is wrong. Everything from chocolates to monogamy is an artificial construct that goes against nature.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Think about a 'normal relationship' as you know it. First, you humble yourself and beg a girl to give you the time of day. Then you essentially pay for her affection with dates, gifts, trips, and junk. It's an elaborate system of prostitution that works on a mental and spiritual level. Then you buy her an engagement ring, pray that she'll 'put up with you' for the rest of your lives, bust your ass to get a good job so you can support her lifestyle and IF you're lucky, she won't divorce you and take everything you got. Next thing you know, she's got a bunch of snotnosed kids to keep you trapped in her cage forever.”
“You're nuts, man. If it really is all a scheme, then what's the alternative?”
“Think of how civilized cultures did things back in their early days, before things started going to shit. Men were KINGS of their households. Women came running to them with a dowry and begged to be associated with their greatness. Wives, multiple ones, stayed in the home to make sandwiches and serve their lords. That's how things were during the height of every civilization. If gender dynamics were always the way they are now, we would've never gotten out of the stone age because MEN are the ones who get shit done.”
Kenji's reasoning was satisfyingly logical. As flawed as his grasp of sociology and sex relations probably were, his words were exactly what I needed to hear.
“If you MUST seek out female companionship, you better change your game if you're going to succeed and not be at their whims. You need to forget everything you know about courtship. Over seventy-five percent of our learned social skills is centered around getting into a girl's skirt, so it's going to be hard to let go. First, stop putting girls up on a pedestal above you. They're just tits and associated hardware.”
“That's awfully progressive of you...”
“Look, broads don't see men as equals so why should we keep revering them? You know how I said that women only understand control? If you want to be respected by them, you gotta dominate them. Go ahead, be a dick. Not a childish one, though. You gotta put them in their place hard and often. Before you know it, they'll be drawn to your macho power and will be squirting over ANY act of kindness you give them.”
Kenji moved over and examined my face as best as he could. He shook his head with disdain and flicked at my hair.
“You're not going to build a 'cool guy' mystique like that. Your hair looks dumb, you're all skinny, and I could tell by your face that you smile too damned much. An ugly asshole is just an ugly asshole. A pretty asshole is a much sought after sex-god.”
“You're not exactly Tom Selleck yourself.”
“Come on girly-mahn,” he replied with a poorly executed Austrian accent, “let's go hit the gym and pump iron.”
...
“Dude! Don't do that!”
“Don't do what?” Kenji asked as if he was innocent.
“That thing... with your pecs.”
“What thing?” he quipped, jiggling his monstrous pecs with every syllable. “Oh, this? It's got the same effect on women. You bounce the beefcake a little, and they'll completely lose track of whatever they were saying, as if you rebooted their brains. No matter what, they'll just be thinking of how awesome it would be to run their hands all over your bod. Try it.”
In front of the mirror, I practiced dancing my pecs in sync with my speech until I managed to keep a straight face while doing so. Our fanatical dedication to our appearance was really paying off. I looked like I was smuggling casaba melons in my sleeves wherever I went and I caught many a girl drooling over me just about every day.
I was one gorgeous motherfucker.
Kenji wasn't too shabby looking either, even though he didn't have a clear-cut motivation for bloating up like I did. Like true blood-brothers, we kept each other in check, helped each other out, pushed each other when we seemed like we were about to give up, and it paid off. In spite of my heart and his Kenji-ness, we were a pair of classical Adonises. Dip us in marble and send us to a museum, baby. Or better yet, bronze. We were tanned enough to pass for a pair of original Rodans already.
After our morning workout, we showered, then got ready for school. Since it was to be the first day of my grand revenge against womankind, I ditched the uniform and donned my freshly tailored linen pants, silk shirt, fat 24 karat Cuban link necklace, and gators. Hell fucking yes, I looked baller.
I practiced my kissy-faces while spiking my hair before I stepped out the door to pave over Yamaku with a flood of pure awesome. All those broads wouldn't know what hit them. I unbuttoned the top half of my shirt when I stepped into the classroom. I just had a tribal chest piece done and I had to show it off. Mutou looked like he was going to make some fuss over my steez, but he shut up before he even started. Good thing too, I didn't want to ruin my threads by giving the teacher a lesson.
“Ey, Misha, be a good girl and get Shizzy for me.”
Misha looked like a fat kid in a candy store. Well, she was halfway there, anyway. Giddily, she yanked her girl over to my desk. I raised my eyebrow to both of them and suddenly they both looked like they needed a change of underwear. The whole slightly-hostile aloofness sure chilled those girls out.
It was insane. I didn't even say anything to those chicks really but they followed me around all the way to my room at the end of the day. The high and mighty class president who looked down her nose at me and turned me down? I had her bent over on my bed. She couldn't suck dick worth a damn, though. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to use her tongue for anything but eating.
Misha, on the other hand, she could suck a mean dick. Hell, she could probably suck a golf ball through a garden hose if she tried. But did she swallow? Hell yeah, she swallowed! I don't think that girl ever had anything in her mouth she didn't like, if you know what I mean.
A little after curfew, I sent them along their merry way and more or less told them that I expected them to fuck each other in front of me next time we hooked up.
The next morning, Misha and Shizune were all riding my ass at the beginning of class. I didn't have time for constant dick-riders, though. I had other plans that day. A bored shrug and an uninterested sigh and I had them heartbroken and begging for more. They'd just have to wait.
Hanako practically fainted when I approached her. I had to play things a little gentler with her. I gave her a smile, bought her a drink from the vending machine, and showed her how there was a nice guy underneath my ripped exterior. Well, a nice guy if she deserved it. Back in her room, I had her on a beanbag chair and I beat her pussy up like it owed me money.
The next morning, I put on my Tap-Out gear and track pants, then headed for the field to give Emi a little something to lighten her day. Would ya believe it, she got tired on me. I damn well near fucked her legs off in the boy's locker room, with the jocks rooting me on when they got back from their morning drills.
At lunch, I hung around in the art club room and talked to Rin for a bit. I still couldn't understand a damned thing she was talking about but I kept telling her she was deep and unique. Every time she brought up some artsy stuff, I nodded and bullshitted my way into sounding like I cared. After a while, just outta the blue, she asked “Hey, wanna do it?” and that was that. I didn't even have to start things.
Even with my game on lock, I still was on guard when I hooked up with Lilly. She knew I fucked her best friend just the other day, so I knew there was some surprise in store for me. And sho' nuff, I got a surprise. Bet ya didn't know Lilly liked it in the ass, did ya? Everyone thought Lilly was so kind, unconditionally accepting, and more insightful than the others, but she wasn't. Even blind broads are superficial tramps. In fact, she was even more insecure and picky than normal chickies, since she couldn't see how good looking I was and only had the word of other girls to judge against.
I got a little bored with the breezy that night so my bro and I took the train into the city and bounced every nightclub. I got my drank on, I dropped some E, and we fist-pumped the night ablaze.
The next morning, and by morning I mean about two in the afternoon, my groupies came for their dose of vitamin-H. I heard the girls squabble amongst themselves over who was gonna get it first.
“Hey Shicchan, I go first.”
“Good luck with that, Hanako and I are going to double-team Hisao today.”
“Emi, you told me you wouldn't wear that. He doesn't like cheerleaders anyway.”
“It was all I had that was clean!”
Women. No, not women, girls. Stupid little girls who didn't even care that I was using them and their friends. Females think they're so goddamned smart, like they could show a little leg and play coy just to get men wrapped around their little fingers and toes. Well, men could play that game too. Get a little meat on ya, dress a little fresh, and any dame, no matter how far she has her head up her ass with herself, will turn into a drooling little schoolgirl. It was mind-blowing just how low these broads went for a little ding-a-ling. Was that the feeling of power that they felt whenever they dealt with the old me?
You know, I would've been happier if they were a little trickier. Hell, I would've been fine if they were at least a little pissed that I've been spreading myself around. The girls I fell in love with had minds of their own. They had their own will, and they made me work for it. Seeing my once-friends degrade themselves like that made me lose respect for them, nay, women period. I loved those girls, they were my friends, but when I threw on a pretty face, they just became a bunch of cheap hos that didn't mean shit to me anymore. Just like my bro said before, bitches ain't shit.
I pushed past the crowd, made Hanako swoon when I brushed against her, and knocked on Kenji's door.
You know what the difference is between men and women? Deep down, we're all the same, but women are just complicated for the sake of being complicated. With men, what you see is what you get. We act like our brains are in our dicks because... they are. Women, on the other hand, throw on a cloak of bullshit to cover up the fact that they're all just cheap sluts and call it “personality.”
The girls waited outside patiently while me and Kenji went at it. Guys know what guys like. You don't need to teach them how to give good head. I didn't have to remind Kenji to not bite it. Giving it to the girls was a'ight; giving it to Kenji was better, it was real. The only time I ever felt real love at Yamaku was whenever I was creating a storm of raw machismo when having sex with Kenji. No lovey-dovey bullshit, just pounding and getting pounded. I appreciated the refreshing straightforwardness of being with Kenji.
The girls knew what we were up to since we made no attempt to be discreet. Did they get grossed out? No. As soon as I got out, they all grabbed at my beefstick before I even got to wash it off. The girls I loved were gone, long gone.
I felt sorry for those whores. I could've done anything and everything I wanted to them, but in the ways that really mattered, they'd never have me.
Don't hate the player, hate the game.
-End.-
Also, I'd like to thank leotrak for finishing his man-love fic before I did and posting it to break the yaoi-barrier
Man, am I GLAD someone pieced together the image I was describing. I was about to post this with the fic.