Hearts are Cheap These Days

Previously on A Young American…

To start at the beginning, go here.

I passed out in the chair, using up the rest of my Scotch, and was awakened by a better feeling Britney bursting through the front door unloading an enormous amount of books on the counter. “Jesus, you actually gonna read all that?” I asked.

“Not all at once. I’ve got to finish it before the end of the semester, though.” She said, breathing heavily. God, I loved it when women did that: their chest inflating and deflating like crazy. “What?” She asked, noticing my eye line.

“A guy can’t get turned on by his girlfriend?”

She rolled her eyes, and then noticed my poorly bandaged hand. “What happened?” She gasped.

“I slipped last night on a broken beer bottle. It’s not as bad as it looks.” She unwrapped it and immediately found a shard.

“We need to get you to a hospital. You might need stitches.” She grabbed the keys.

“Britney. Leave it alone. They’re not that deep. I got most of the glass out. It’s fine.” I squeezed my hand into a fist to show her it didn’t hurt. One of the bigger cuts tore open and blood rushed down my arm. “Bad example.”

“Jesus, Logan!” She said, wrapping a paper towel around my hand. “We have to get you some help. ”

“Fine,” I caved, “but this better not cost me a fortune.”

I hadn’t been to the hospital since before my parents died, so I had to fill out a shit load of paper work. All the basics: name, address, phone number, etc. When I got down to emergency contact, I thought about it, and then noticed Britney watching me fill out the form. That made the decision easy.

“Britney Hall.” I said aloud.

“Thank you for doing this.” She smiled, holding my arm and kissing my cheek. If I believed in marriage, she’d probably be the one I’d go the distance with. Settle down, have children, grow old together. It all sounds great in theory. I felt like I was stringing her along, but the truth was that our relationship was going to last as long as it was going to last, despite my view on marriage. However, if I felt like Britney was worthy of an emergency contact, then that was just as good. While waiting for my turn, I texted Zach an apology for the previous night. I should’ve known better. He was the kind of guy who saw a text apology as a secret attempt to re-open the argument.

No reply.

The doctor brought both of us back to his room and took a look at my hand. It didn’t take him long to diagnose that I needed a few stitches here and there, but nothing brutal. “You don’t get paid by the hour, do ya doc?” I asked.

He laughed and got someone to come in to stitch me up. Britney observed, trying to learn how to wrap the bandages. He tapped me on the back like we were old buddies and said, “That’s it. Make sure you see the receptionist on the way out for the bill.” Asshole. I went out and gave the lady my death card.

“Sign here.” She said, handing me the receipt. I signed and we left, driving back home just as the Sun had left the sky. I walked into the kitchen and threw the keys on the table. When I turned around, Britney leaped on me and forced the mythical strongest muscle in the human body into my mouth. Her legs and arms latched onto me and I embraced her. Her boldness was a turn on. I carried her over to the counter and set her down.

She took my shirt off, and I returned the favor. It reminded me of a shitty joke my dad used to tell me. Before Sex, his voice echoed in my mind, you help each other get naked. After sex, you dress yourself. Moral of the story: no one helps you once you’ve been fucked. Not funny, Dad. I took her bra off, and she lifted herself off the counter, waiting for me to do the same with her pants.

I brought my face down to her inner thighs and spread them while I slid my tongue inside her. I hated the way pussies looked. It wasn’t just Britney’s, they all were ghastly. They looked like one of those Taun-tauns that Han Solo cut open. I thought they smelled bad on the outside. The smell was like raw meat at room temperature, which is essentially what it was.

Honestly, the only reason I ever did do it was because it always made them go crazy: Moaning, sweating, grabbing my head. All of which she did, sitting on that kitchen counter, about to pull off the cabinet door. Her moans got my cock rock hard, and I reached down with my hand to set it free, stroking it.

I stood up and made out with her again. There was something about making out with a woman after they’ve had their privates in my mouth that was both degrading and incredibly hot. The fact that they were willing to allow that sort of thing showed just how horny they were, but then again it could also mean they had some weird fetish for the taste of themselves.

Either way it was great. While we sucked each other’s faces she reached down and grabbed me. She stroked and brought me closer to her outer limits. I pulled away and she moaned, “Just rub it on the outside.”

I let her use it to rub her clit for a few minutes before the inevitable happened. I pulled away again. “Just a little bit, then you can pull out. Please?” She begged.

“No. I don’t want any children.”

“But Logan, I can’t use the pill, and bareback feels sooo good.” That was a lie. Britney never bothered to try the pill: All that bullshit about chemicals and such running through her body. She pulled me close and nibbled on my ear, which I didn’t like as much as she thought, and then whispered, as if whispering got her anywhere. “I wanna feel your skin inside me.” I pulled away again, harder this time.

“No. I don’t want to risk it. A kid would ruin our lives.” She scoffed and pushed me off of her.

“Fine, then.” She jumped off the counter and walked away.

“Hey, what about finishing what we started!” I shouted.

“Finish with yourself. Guaranteed no pregnancy there.” She said, slamming the door. I heard it latch. Fucking bitch locked my door to my bedroom in my house, leaving me out in the kitchen with my dick in my hand.

Literally.

I wanted to finish but I had nowhere to let the come out. The only bathroom was in the bedroom. I drove to the nearest gas station to use their bathroom. I spent the rest of the evening drinking alone at a bar on a weeknight.  When I stumbled back in the house it was almost five. I sat in the chair and turned on the TV, fighting my urge to nod off in one of the most uncomfortable positions known to man.

The door eased open at the crack of seven and a Medusa version of Britney stepped out. She squinted at me, groaning “Why are you up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” I said, “Wanna get some breakfast?” She nodded and shut the door again. I was just starting to lose my battle with sleep when Britney swung it back open, bouncing with energy and hair pulled back in a workout ponytail. I pulled myself off the chair and weakly walked to the door, feeling her arm wrap itself around mine. The door opened and the piss yellow eastern sunrise stained my eyes.

“Where to?” She said, sounding as if she was trying to mimic the chirping birds planted in the trees. My mom always took me to Country Kitchen when I was young on the day my Dad came back from a long trip, so that became my spot as I got older. The stereotypical small-town waitress sat us at my window and only asked Britney what she wanted. As the waitress walked away Britney turned her attention back to me. “So have you never had sex without a condom?”

“Christ, Britney.”

“I’m curious.”

“No, and you’re the first to complain about it.” I folded my arms and laid the back of my head atop the booth.

“Do you have any idea how hard it would be to get me pregnant if we did it right?”

“I have a great idea. I can count on one hand the number of girls I graduated with who are motherless, and one of them’s wrecked down there, so she hardly counts!”

“You’re being paranoid. Right there is the reason why you’re so afraid to do it, because of all the people you’ve seen get pregnant in the past.”

“Thanks, Freud.”

“What if I’m on my period? Would you do it, then?”

“I don’t know. Talk to me when that happens.” The pleasant morning breakfast mood was ruined and we ate our food in silence. Britney was getting more and more demanding. I was afraid that soon she would start withholding sex from me. I got so angry that women just had that ability, like it wasn’t anything. The fact that they could just turn it off sometimes was infuriating. I dropped Britney off at home, stood outside and slid a cigarette in my mouth, lighting it awkwardly with my non-dominant hand, before going down to my favorite liquor store and picking up a refill.

I walked in and the owner, Harry, stood behind the counter watching some game on TV. “Hey, Harry! I need a refill on my scotch, man.” Harry turned around and shook my hand. I used to call him Ol’ Crazy Eye before I became a regular. The left looked like a werewolf had slashed it permanently shut, and the remaining bounced all over the place.

“Logan!  Good to see ya buddy. Haven’t been here in a while. Not cuttin’ back I hope.”

“No way.” I laughed, “You know me. Well’s always dry.”  He pulled my bottle out from behind the counter. He knew me well enough to make sure one of each of my bottles remained behind the counter. I guess that’s one of the miniscule beauties of living in a small town. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Hey, no problem, your stock’ll be refilled by tomorrow.” Along the way home I opened it up and took a few sips. When I got back I closed the bottle and walked inside. The TV was off and Britney wasn’t in the living room. I put the keys and bottle on the counter.

“Britney?” I called out.

“In here.” She answered from the bedroom. I walked inside and surprised myself by not instantly coming at what I saw. She was lying on the bed; naked as the day she was born, tied up to the restraints I had purchased over a month ago. “Think you could help me out a little bit?” She writhed. I stripped and climbed on top of her.

I kissed her mouth, her neck, and her nipples, which were already hard. I slid my fingers down her side and inside her. She moaned softly and pulled on the restraints. I slid a few more fingers in, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back. I moved my head down, kissing her stomach, and then settled my tongue on her clit. She started to moan louder and louder, pulling hard on the restraints. My cock could compete with a nightstick at that moment, and then the inevitable came. I opened the drawer.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting on a condom.” I said.

“Oh, come on.” She began.

“We’re not fucking without this.”

“But it’s so much more fun.”

“Britney…”

“Just pull out.”

“That might not work.”

“Please, just this once.”

She yanked on the restraints and gave me a look of helplessness that had me convinced. I brought myself to her face and slid in. My heart raced at the exciting mystery that was bareback sex. Finally, I could know what the big deal was. I could see it in her eyes how long she’d been waiting for this, which should have been a warning sign. Goddamn women. Wait until my cock is hard enough to be used as a lethal weapon before asking one little favor and I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

Still, I couldn’t believe it. The deeper I pushed in, the more my nerves responded. I felt like my first time all over, which wasn’t that impressive. I got as far in as I could go and she grabbed on the ropes around her wrists, mouth agape and eyes wide shut. I leaned in and gave her a long kiss while I thrust harder and harder. It was like a drug. I loved it.

I felt myself about the burst and pulled out just in the nick of time. It almost hurt. I looked down at her leg, which was almost completely covered with my boys and/or girls. We were both drenched in sweat. When the release of the orgasm washed over me, I was still sweating, but this time it was panic.

“Shit.”

“What is it?” she managed to moan, half-asleep on the pillow.

“We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, Logan, relax.”

“I can’t! You could be on your way to pregnancy right now, then I’ll have to get a steady job, start saving for the baby expenses, then before you know it my life’s over and I’m taking care of someone else’s!” Regret and remorse were starting to weigh heavily on me.

“Logan, for God’s sakes look.” She shifted her leg and showed the enormous amount of come spread across it. Damn, I thought. I didn’t know I had it in me.

“Exactly,” I said. “If there’s that much there, who knows how much didn’t make it out?” She sat up and wrapped one of my come stained towels around her.

“Jesus Christ, if you’re so concerned, just run to the Pharmacy and get a morning after pill.” No sooner had she said it than I was out the door, pants unzipped and undershirt half on.  Luckily, there was a CVS two blocks down. I ran through the drug store, into the pharmacy and up to the extra large black woman across the counter.

“Can I help you?” Normally I would criticize her lackluster greeting, but there was no time to lose. Percentages hung in the balance.

“One morning after pill please.” I panted. What is this, McDonald’s? I thought as I pulled out my debit card. I wondered if it was gonna have any kind of fancy packaging, or maybe it would be subtle, like hiding an alcoholic beverage in a brown paper bag. It took me a few more seconds to realize the bitch not only didn’t move from her spot, but she was staring at me, blankly.

“What?”

“Sir, I cannot sell you that pill.”

“What do you mean? I have ID. I’m of age.”

“It’s not that sir. It’s against my beliefs.” She’s kidding, but it wasn’t funny.

“If this woman is meant to be pregnant it’s the Lord who will decide, not you.” Okay, that may have been a little funny, but certainly not at the time.

“Look,” I tried to state as calmly and politely as possible, my teeth grit, “Don’t fuck with me right now.”

“Please don’t curse at me, sir.”

“Is there someone else back there?” I shouted. A man who could have been her father peeked his head out from the back.

“Yes?” he said, looking over his glasses at me.

“Can I get a morning after pill, please?  This woman’s being uncooperative.”

“Sure.” He needed no convincing, probably because he was full of regret. “Hold on one second.” That fat cunt gave me a stare I’m sure she repented later in church. The man politely returned with the box. It was so plain. Oh well, I’d rather be disappointed in a pill box now than a dead beat son asking his lowlife father for some drug money later.

“Lust is one of the seven deadly sins.”  

“Yeah, well so is Gluttony.” I sprinted down the road back home and inside Britney was fast asleep.

“Here!” I shouted, throwing the bag on the bed and speaking rapidly. “Pill’s in there. You want some water? I can get you some water.”

“Oh, damn it. How much did this cost?” She asked, groggily.

“Less than a baby.”

“I’m not going to get pregnant!”

“Then it’s win, win. Either you would have and this kills it, or you wouldn’t have and this does nothing. See?” If I had a tie on I would have loosened it.

She groaned and pulled out the box, waving her hand, “Well, get some water, then.” I ran to the kitchen, stubbing my toe on the counter. Fuck! I grabbed a glass and filled it. When I got back, she was sitting there, pill in hand, motioning for the water. I gave it to her and she drank it down with the pill.

“There, are you happy?” She asked, sarcastically.

“Very much so.” I leaned in for a kiss but she pushed me away. She rolled over on the bed and covered her lady parts in sheets damped with sweat while I sat up alone and watched her dream on.

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