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Sounds coming from the park across the street woke him up. Voices, actually. He glanced over at the cheap clock radio which indicated it was 3:59 AM. Unacceptable he thought. At first he tried to just wait it out and go back to sleep, but those voices kept on, and got louder and louder with the laughing and the foolishness that only drunks with no bars to go to because they were all closed could muster at that hour. His elderly neighbors next door would be bothered though, and very likely a bit nervous about it. Hard to tell exactly what the nature of the foolishness in the park was all about. Could be nothing, could be a fight about to break out, or it could be.... well it could be nothing.
Up he got, and without turning on a light he threw on a shirt and a pair of leggings known as “sweats” in this country. My word the USA is a peculiar place. He would have to go see if he could quiet down the ruckus, and hoped he wouldn't end up making it worse. Lenny was, if anything, a pacifist by nature. Well that and a fairly above-average house painter. Lenny, the pacifist painter of houses, apartments, garages, and pretty much any outlying structures of any size that you may have on your property...it had a certain flow to it. As he exited the side door of his flat he noted that the light was on in the Stevenson's window above him. He mused that they would be debating whether or not to call the cops, probably until well after breakfast. He headed through the gate and towards the front street, the near pitch-blackness of the park just beyond. There were only three lights strung through the middle of the park, and a quick scan of those areas revealed that the owners of the voices were not near enough to any of them to be visible. Of course. 4 AM drunks always hide in dark places while they annoy the shit out of everyone around them. Pacifist or not, Lenny was a bit grumpy at this hour. A definite female scream followed by the laughter of two, make that three males, was heard. Then the girl (by the sound of her voice she was very likely under twenty five) said “Let go. You, I forgot your name, let GO! I'll scream again!” followed by the boys laughing, one saying “But we like it when you scream.” More laughter, from her as well as them. “Who's hand is that pawing my tits?” she said. “Not mine” said one of the guys. “Not mine” said another guy. The third one, after a slight pause said “Not mine” and all four of them broke out laughing loudly again. The sound resonated off the row of houses that lined either side of the park. Not good. “Hmm, what's down here?” Her, rather coyly: “Hey I didn't say you could touch me there” “I didn't see any invite-only sign, did you Jed?” “Noop.” “Yeah well it is. Now tell me your names again so I can invite you proper.” More laughter. It occurred to Lenny as he attempted to look like he was just out for a stroll that this could just be the case of a very stupid girl out late in a park with three strange guys she probably met in a bar who may or may not be intending to take advantage of her while she THOUGHT she was just having fun. OR, maybe she was inviting it or just tempting fate in some sort of post-adolescent ploy to live life on the edge, take risks, be adventurous, ORrrr.... or maybe it was just a few drunks being drunks and he was just over-thinking it because he was over three hours short on sleep. He deliberately walked down the path that took him under one of the big park lights in order to reveal his presence, as if that in itself would cause them to hush. One could hope after all, couldn't one? It did not come as a shock when it didn't work. Instead, he heard the girl's voice say “Hey look there's a guy over there. Hey guys, get your hands off my tits and look!” And then through the gaggle of comments from her companions she called out towards Lenny “Hey, did we wake you up? Sorry!” He figured he was only about thirty or forty yards from them but they were in almost complete darkness. The park light was pretty dim actually, and he could only make out vague shapes in the night as he turned, hands in pockets, towards them. He shook his head no, and held down the urge to say “Yes you raging pack of throbbing blithering morons, you did indeed wake me up. I suspect you've woken up everyone from four blocks in every bloody direction! Did you wake me up... what an utterly nonsensical idiotic question you silly little twit”, all in the voice of John Cleese of course. Lenny was a huge fan of his work in the ironic sarcastic rant. Instead he said in a low, quiet tone “Couldn't sleep, just out for a stroll.” They of course wouldn't be able to hear that, which caused them to get their butts off the city-owned picnic table they had taken over, and approach, which was his plan. He'd find out soon enough if it was a good plan or not. Sure enough her voice, closer now, came out of the shadows, “What? Hey speak up, we can't hear you!” He stood and waited while they came closer. Then he heard her say “Hey I know you! Lenny? Lenny is that you?” the guys voices were all like “Lenny? Who the fuck's Lenny?” and “You mean WHAT'S a Lenny?” and more chuckling. “Lenny More-Veiny! That IS you!” she said. He could almost see her face now. The outline of her body showed that she had a stunning figure, that much he could tell. The three brutes with her were of varying sizes but all looked pretty big. Two were at least six feet and the other was well over, and solid. Lenny replied “It's Morvayne. Lenny Morvayne. How is it you know me?” Something about her voice sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn't place it. “I KNEW it was you!” she said. A few steps more then one of the guys said “Lenny 'more veiny'? HA HA!” followed by laughing from the others. They stopped just out of range of the light, them laughing about his name, her edging just slowly closer, ahead of them. He could almost make out her face, almost. Another half step, then another, then she said “Well well well, what a small world.” From behind her a voice added “Yeah, small, but more VEINY.” and they broke out in fresh laughter. The light finally caught her face just enough, and through squinted eyes he realized who it was. It was her. The one who he'd dated five or six years ago for a few months before breaking his heart. She was at least three maybe four girlfriends ago, he'd lost count. Every guy had at least one psycho in his past, she was his. Her name was Rebecca. Rebecca...he couldn't quite recall her last name for some odd reason. She was looking at him in a very odd way, smiling. Smirking really, but shrewdly, like she was thinking evil thoughts, forming evil plans. It was all coming back to him now. Her full lips that turned slightly upwards at the corners of her mouth, her pretty dark blue-green eyes and cute slightly upturned nose, not to mention the high cheekbones and the little cleft in her chin. She had the face of model, but the mind of a she-devil. He couldn't recall the exact circumstances of why their relationship had ended, but he knew it had something to do with the fact that her antics drove him crazy. It was as if the things she knew about him, things that a girlfriend would and should know, was all just information that she stored merely so it could be used against him in some way, not to hurt him but rather for her own amusement. This girl did not take life seriously by any stretch. Not at all. That calculating witch's smirk on her face deepened, as if a plan was forming. He tried to think quickly of how she might use this situation (and him) to indulge her need for sick amusement, and a thought finally dawned on him just as she began turning back to the fellows. Oh Christ, she wouldn't he thought. No one could be that demented...could they? She proved him both right and wrong in the same instant. “This is the guy who tried to rape me five years ago” were the fateful words she spoke. That was all it took, and the three amigos (who themselves had moments ago been trotting on the edge of that very precipice) shifted into 'righteous tough-guy' mode and began coming toward him, and fast. “Rebecca, stop it. Tell them you're kidding. Rebbecca!” “Sorry Veiny, Can't help ya” she said, moving in closer to watch what would happen next. The three were indeed quite big. Lenny quickly realized there was no way out of this mess other than to just buck up and deal with it. He had two choices, either let them kick his ass royally, or fight. Running away was no longer an option, they were too close. His mind quickly processed the facts. As it turns out he had to be at three possible new jobs in a few hours to give estimates, and showing up all black and blue just wouldn't do at all. Bruises were usually always bad for business. People tended to automatically think one had fallen off a ladder, which in turn led to thoughts of law suits. His choice was clear then. “So he's a fucking rapist” one of them said. “Let's fuck 'im up.” another one added. “Fuck yeah let's fuck 'im good. I mean... fuck him UP good. That's what I meant.” said the last one. They were around him in seconds. The largest one and the smallest of the three (who was still quite large as stated earlier) flanked him on either side, and the middle one was obviously up for making the initial attack. Lenny readied himself, and just as he moved to come at him Lenny let loose a lightning fast upward front toe-snap to his groin, the top of his foot crushing the poor fellow's nads up into his liver. He then ducked as his attacker's forward momentum carried him over Lenny's back. He gave a heave at the last second and the fellow flew just far enough to clear the stone path and onto the soft grass. Lenny didn't want to hurt them, just stop them. The other two lunged simultaneously, as one might expect in such an instance. Lenny suddenly moved more like a jungle cat than the hundred and seventy pound weakling from merry old England that he rather resembled. He spun, and as he did so he actually grabbed hold of the larger one, using his momentum to pull him forward and sideways, and at the same time let fly a spinning back kick with his right leg that sent the smaller fellow careening into the light post and then to the ground, out of the fight. He threw mister big to the ground and put his knee into the back of his neck while pinning his arm up behind him until extreme pain occurred. “Look mate, I did not rape this girl. She's playing you blokes and she's playing me” “Okay. OKAY! AAAAHRG...I beLIEVE you!” “If I let you up, are you going to behave or what?” “AAAHGG...FUCK YOU mate! Mate? What the fuck is that? Fucking English faggot!” He obviously couldn't believe that an English faggot had just kicked his and his buddies' asses, and in less time than it took to say it. “Right, more it is then, sorry friend” and with that he laid a quick back fist to just behind his ear and the big guy was out. Lenny was, after all, THAT Lenny Morvayne, former British middleweight kickboxing champion (by day, and superhero by night). In thirty-seven fights he was undefeated. These three were, quite literally, a walk in the park.
As he rose to his feet he heard Rebecca giggling from ten feet away, and saw the lights of several police cars heading down the avenue towards them at high speed. He turned and headed for his apartment, leaving the three groaning heroes in his wake. She followed him. “I can't believe you.” “Whaaat? That was fun!” “Fun? FUN?? You are one sick twisted...” he lowered his voice as they crossed the street in front of his place. “What...” “Bitch. You are one twisted bitch. You were a twisted bitch back then and you're still a sick twisted bitch.” “Oh relaaax, I knew you could handle those guys.” “That's the point! You KNEW, and you again used it to get your kicks.” “You were the one throwin' the kicks baby” “Who were those guys anyway? And why were you buggering around with them in the park alone at this time of night?” Again with the coy smile she said “Just some guys I met. I was just having fun.” “Yes, fun. That's all you ever have, isn't it. FUN. How fun would it have been if no one happened along and they...” “What? They what?” “Took advantage of you.” “Ooooh, that would have been awful!!” she was mocking him. “So you wanted it then. Three guys, and they were all over you. I heard them. I heard you Rebecca.” “Oh nothing would have happened. We were just playing around.” She was clearly clueless he thought. He opened his door and then turned to her, blocking her way, saying “You're not coming in.” “Oh come on, don't be like that. You don't want the cops to get me do you baby?” “Why not, it's what you deserve isn't it?” “Okay, I've learned my lesson, please let me in. Pleeease? I'll be good.” He cocked his head sideways at her, so she added “I will. I'll be good baby, I promise. Come on I got nowhere to go and no way to get there. My roommate's away and I lost my key.” Lenny heard the police cars pulling up just down the block, and cops' voices as they converged on the scene of the fight. His mind again processed the situation, and he came up with the notion that if they came knocking and asking questions he would probably need her to back up his story. Not that she would. She probably wouldn't. He would have to threaten her ahead of time that if she didn't he'd be forced to tell the cops a wild tale of his own which would probably land ALL of them including her in hot water. He doubted she'd enjoy that. “More like your roommate ate your key and kicked you out” he said. He decided to let her in. It was now 4:32 AM, just enough time to grab a few more hours sleep before the dreaded Monday morning. He tossed a pillow and blanket onto the couch for her and made his way back to bed, and tried to put it all out of his head. Sure enough, just as he was about to fall fast asleep she was at the door to his room asking for one of his t-shirts. Then she was cold, so she crawled into the other side of his bed at the nod of his sleepy head. And then of course she began getting all cuddly and snuggling her small shapely bottom into his crotch and pulling his arms around her, placing his hand on one of her firm and rather sizable breasts, first over the shirt and then under it. He smelled the gin on her, and the smoke in her hair from the pub. Part of him wanted to berate her for her forwardness and go all indignant on her, but the truth of the matter was that as much as he detested her she was not only the first girlfriend he'd had upon coming to America but in fact was the best 'shag' he'd ever had in his life. And not just by a small margin mind you, but by several miles. She was quite wild, and that memory of her caused his distaste for her to soften and something else to harden. As predictable as it was, he became erect, and it soon pressed into the cleft of her bare backside, all hot and throbbing. He began involuntarily grinding her, she of course grinding back. While that was going on he was pulling and playing with her nips, making them hard as well. In one smooth motion she finally reached back and down, and guided him into her, and they were one once again, as they had been over five years before. He felt her familiar tightness, and the way she felt inside, and the way she moved like she was milking him. They wrestled and wriggled together until he came. A few moments later both were passed out cold. As luck would have it the cops never did come knocking. Possibly the big three in the park were too embarrassed to tell them they were beat up by an “English faggot” half their size. Later when he again became awake he noticed three things, no make that four things, right away. One, it was now light out, as light was streaming in through the slits in the blinds that covered his bedroom window. Two, the cheap clock radio now said 7:04 AM, which gave him ample time to shower, grab a bowl of something and get off to work. Three, there was a warm female body in the bed beside him. And four, she had his penis in her mouth. His incredibly hard penis to be more precise. Her lovely full lips and her rough pink little tongue were doing wonderful things up and down his shaft. Every day should start this way for every man in the world he mused, then thought that it probably did for all except him. He hadn't had a girlfriend in several months and had been starting to refer to it as his first “dry spell.” He relaxed his head into the pillow, put his hands on her head, ran his fingers through her light brown hair and allowed himself to just lay back and enjoy the moment. She sucked and sucked, slurping his balls and making his cock the center of her universe, the purpose of her very existence. Well, either that or she just really loved sucking cock, he though. She pumped his shaft with her hand as she took his entire scrotum in her mouth and sucked both balls, rolling them and savoring them to his utter delight. Then she moved back to his organ, and as she again took him down her throat their eyes met. With the morning light playing off her face he took in her beauty. Yes, she was beautiful. She's Angelina Jolie beautiful he thought. She's impulsive and unpredictable and wild in a self-indulgent kind of way like her too his mind added. But damn, just like every guy on the planet imagines to be true for Angelina, Rebbecca actually does give in-credible head. With the knowledge that he was now fully awake she moved up and mounted him. She began riding him like a banshee, dangling her full breasts in his face. At one point one of her nipples went up his nose. He refused to suck that one afterwards. Up and down, up, down, up and down she rode him and rode him, his shaft disappearing and reappearing between the divided lips of her pussy. He held her waist and helped as she impaled herself on his rod again and again. “Oh god Lenny, you...ugnh... you feel so fucking good baby! So far inside me, you feel so huge in me! Ungh!” He let out a low moan or three of his own, then rolled her over and began plowing her missionary style. She wrapped her legs around him and coaxed him into her again and again, a well of pleasure building up inside them, building, her nails digging into his back... a few more long deep strokes....her nails now on his ass.... coaxing...building... until finally they both exploded in glorious release. He poured his fluid into her, and she eagerly accepted all of it. And at precisely 7:15 the cheap clock radio kicked on, the song “The bitch is back” by Elton John blared loudly filling the room. It was too appropriate for words. After a time he found the wherewithal to separate, but had not the energy to carry it out. So he reached down low on the wall near the head of the bed and instead unplugged the cheap clock radio, thus shutting off the offending noise. They laid there, in each others arms and legs, their genitals still interlocked and quivering, both of their bodies lightly sweating, both panting. As things calmed down they continued to lay there like that until it was no longer comfortable. Then he rolled off and lay beside her, thinking he may have to shorten the shower and skip breakfast entirely in order to make it in on time. She too was thoughtful, and after a time uttered, in a much more quiet tone than that of earlier that morning, “I'm wondering... why is it that no matter what sneaky things I pull on you, no matter what shitty lowdown dirty rotten crap I come up with...you still end up banging me. Why is that?” He thought about it for a few moments, then replied “Well, if you must know...” “I must” “I can sum it up in three words then: I'm a guy” Truer words were never spoken. He actually was a guy, and by him admitting it it told her that the power she always felt she possessed over men, over him, wasn't imagined. What he was really saying, according to her, was that he thought she was so beautiful that he loses all control, and everything else he feels about her... things like hate, loathing, disgust, etc, all of it goes out the window at the site of her. She decided she could live with that. She'd missed him. “And I'm a bitch.” she offered back. She was if anything grounded in reality in at least this one respect he noted. “That you are luv, that you are.” End.
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