What Am I Doing Here? Ch. 16

He put his forearms down to lift most of his body weight from her. He was looking down at her, his eyes nearly closed. "I gots a couple of friends we're gonna meet," he said.

She felt his spent, now flaccid cock slip out of her soaked, sperm-filled vagina. "I can't breathe," she said, "get off of me."

He put the palms of his hands down and lifted all of his body except for his hips from her stretched out form.

The bed beneath her felt wet, uncomfortable; the slack now open lips of her labia leaking, failing to contain his sperm and her cuntal wetness.

"Leave. No more. Git. I need a shower. I stink" Her orgasm effectuated, she wondered why he was still there in her bed, in her apartment. She wondered why she had anything at all to do with him. Ever. She wondered why she couldn't think like this before they fucked.

"You don't need to shower. We're late already. We gotta go." He remained looking down at her, his groin holding her in place.. "You smell good this way. You smell like you've been fucked and you're ready to fuck some more. You smell like a slut."

She felt scabby. She felt dirty, sweat-stained, mangy. He never heard what she said the first time. "I said leave." She shouted, "I want you to let me go. Get the fuck off of me."

His eyes expressed shock. His mouth gaped open. He blinked. "Are you telling me to leave?"

"I am telling you to get the hell out of here."

You are such an ungrateful cunt. How many times I get you off last night? This morning? Just now?"

She crooked an elbow against his chest and pushed him off of her. "Off, I said."

His ass rolled off of her and fell onto one of the cum wet spots on the sheet.. "Damn," he said.

She stood up. She really needed to get him out of here. Fuck, she needed to get him out of her life.

"Hey, we got us an appointment."

"You've got an appointment. I am going to shower and then I am going to the library to return a book."

Harold looked at MaryJane. "What is wrong with you?"

She gathered the clothes scattered around the floor next to her bed to put them in the hamper and walked to the bathroom to shower.

"You know," he said, "You're the most ungratefulest slut in the whole world."

"Just leave, okay." She went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Less than ten seconds later, the door flew open, and she came out of the bathroom. She stared at Harold. "Get out of my apartment. Right now."

"Oh fuck," he said. "What'd I do this time?"

"Don't you know to flush the toilet after you take a shit?" she said.

He just looked at her. Must be her time of the month, he thought.

"And you used my razor. You just left it in the sink dirty with your hair stuck in between the blades."

"Jeezus," he said, "Why do you care? You don't even shave your cunt."

"I shave my legs, ass hole." Why was she arguing with him? "And why aren't you dressed? Didn't I tell you to leave, to get out of here?"

Harold stood up and looked at her with a look of complete un-understanding, his nose wrinkled, his eyes half closed as if he was trying to comprehend what she was saying but it was too complicated. It was like when he was in her classroom all those years ago when she was teaching a Shakespearean sonnet and irony. That's the way he looked then, and it was how he was looking now.

"You know what? You don't know anything," he said.

"I know I told you I wanted you out of here."

"You are such a cunt." His hand, seemingly without volition, crept under his balls and began scratching. . . MaryJane stared at him. "I am going back into the bathroom," she said. "I am going in there and I am going to put the towels you left on the floor into the hamper. I'm going to dry the puddle you left on the floor where you stepped out of the shower. I am going to clean the sink you left dirty. And, and....I am going to flush your turd down the toilet."

He watched her turn away . He stood there scratching under his balls.

She entered the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

A moment later the door opened. "And I want you gone when I'm finished." The door slammed shut again.

When, ten minutes later, Marjane Huffman walked out of the bathroom and into her living room, now wearing a bathrobe, her hair still wet, the first thing she saw was Harold McCarthy, still naked, still with a hangdog expression on his face.

"Didn't I ask you to leave?" she asked. , He just looked at her, said nothing..

"Oh, shit," she said, "Okay, let's get into the kitchen."

She sat on her chair. He took a seat opposite her. "Okay, tell me, why aren't you gone?"

"You can't just make me leave. You invited me..."

"First of all, I didn't invite you. You asked if you could come in, visit and I just said Okay."

"Well, that's inviting me."

"I don't want to argue semantics. And, besides, that was yesterday, this is now. The invitation is done."

"What's semantics?" She was about to answer his question, but he cut her answer, whatever it was, off, "And what about we just got finished fucking?"

"You got that right, Harold, we just finished fucking and its time you left. Please. Okay? Look, I'm tired." She tried to smile but her smile was a bit too thin in the lips to be the comforting gesture she was trying for.

"You know, I had something planned for today. It was something real good. I had some people I wanted you to meet." At least now, he was standing up. One foot was groping for his pant's leg.

"I'll bet," said MaryJane. "What'd you have planned, a gangbang?"

"No. Not that."

"What? Not a gangbang?"

"Maybe pulling a train."

She shook her head.. "Harold, what am I doing here?" She looked at him. She shook her head a second time. "Why do I allow you to get within ten feet of me?."

He continued. One leg at a time, to shimmy first his left leg down into the pant's left leg And not quite simultaneously, the right pant's leg up his right leg.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question. You can answer."

His right pant's leg was by now three quarters of the way up his thigh. "Because you're a slut."

"What?"

"What I said. Because you're a slut. Why you let me get ten feet from you."

Had Harold just uttered some incontrovertible truth? But MaryJane could not figure whatever that truth was. She looked at him. Both of his pant's leg had reached where they had been headed. He was buttoning his pants.

"Ya know, you always think you're better then me."

"Than."

"But you ain't any better. You're a slut. You like to get off. You come, have your big light's out moment and all's right with the world. You are a slut. And you know what, I get you off and you love it. You know what? I'm like the mailman. I deliver. That's what. You with me, I take you somewhere. You think I'm using you? I'm giving you want you need. You need my dick, Mrs. Huffman, teach."

"You don't think I can get off without you?"

"Yeah, if you don't run out of batteries for those plastic dicks you keep in your drawer. Maybe. But not like I get you off." Harold was standing now. He was tucking his family jewels into his pants, carefully scrupulous in keeping them away from the metal of his zipper. He smiled a shy smile as he noticed her looking at his weapon being holstered. Harold was just about dressed now.

"You don't think I can find a man on my own, without you? I could get married," she said.

"Yeah, you could get married and two weeks later you'd be calling me and begging me for a real fuck."

"I don't need you," she said. "And what's that about a gangbang? Or pulling a train? You just go ahead and plan that without asking me, without telling me?"

"What for I got to tell you? I tell you I got a gangbang planned and you start giving me a what for. You always do that. Complain and argue and give me aggravation. You know, when I take you somewhere what happens is that you get off, you come. You get your jollies. You got no reason to bitch." When he was a student in her class those years ago, he'd never speak...certainly speak in a full sentence.

MaryJane stared at Harold. She closed her eyes. "You don't just spring something like that on someone. You don't give people surprise gangbangs. You give them a voice in the matter. It's just plain courtesy."

"It wasn't a gangbang, It was going to be you pulling a train."

This was absurd, MaryJane thought. As if there was a certain etiquette that governed gangbangs, "It doesn't matter what it was. You have no right to involve me in anything like that without me okaying it first." She opened her eyes. "You take advantage of me. You use me." MaryJane stopped. She just had a thought. "What do you get out of it when you get me pulling a train?"

"What do you care? I introduce you. You get your orgasm." Harold was standing now. He was dressed. He was indignant. He was speaking out of true conviction. He was angry that Ms.Huffman was disagreeing with him.

"You didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"You get something, don't you? Those guys in your room when you were in college. I had sex with them. They pay you? No. They did your papers. They took tests for you." How had she not recognized that before. "You're a pimp. You pimp me out . You take . money and you get me out fucking people and you take the money, all of it. You are a pimp, just like the guy in the song you were rappin' last night." The words just tumbled from MaryJane's mouth, words one after the other. She couldn't conceive it. Why hadn't she made this connection before? Stupid. It must be that she had not wanted to,

"Stupid bitch," Harold was standing and turning towards the door. So what that I got some favors from some guys after you fucked them. Big fuckin' deal. You're a fucking slut and, yes, if I pimped you out like you say I did, if I did, so what? A slut gets pimped out. I was doing you a favor."

"A favor?"

"Yeah, a favor. You needed cock. I got you the cock. You needed to cum, I got you all the guys you needed to cum. And, teach, Missus Huffman, slut, whatever, you loved it. You never complained after. You always complained before, but never after when you were one very satisfied slut."

But now, although it had seemed as if he was getting ready to leave the apartment, Harold had returned to the kitchen and once again sat himself down at the table. MaryJane had never seen him so intense. She stared at him. Suddenly, she didn't just dislike him. She hated him. "You made me a slut. You and the other guys got me drunk and then you blackmailed me and then you convinced me that I was a slut."

"You was a slut, you dumb cunt. I watched you plenty times when you was getting gangbanged. I saw you. You was on your hands and knees doggie fashion. Your tits hanging down and swinging this way and that way while you was getting banged from the front and the back. You were huffing and puffing, your chest filling with air every time you were breathing so hard. Your eyes were wide open, A prick buried in your mouth. Someone else's cock in your cunt. All you were waiting for was to cum. You loved it. Every once in a while you looked over at me and you let loose that loopy smile." You loved it."

MaryJane paused, overwhelmed by Harold's outburst. "Maybe I did like having sex. Maybe sex was important to me. Maybe cumming was what I needed. So what? Liking to cum, liking getting fucked isn't a crime. The fact that I enjoyed sex didn't give you the right to put me in the positions you put me into without my permission."

."For what did I need any rights? I could smell your fucking cunt. Your cunt needed cock. It was begging me for cock. I got that cock for you.'You liked my style, you liked my smile.'".He was quoting 50 cents again.

"You say you were setting me up because I wanted. Bull! You set me up so you could get yours, whatever it was that you were getting.".

"You got no idea. Whatever I got, I had it coming to me. You say I'm a pimp. I had to work to set you up. You know how much porn I had to watch to get ideas for what to do for you? You know how many times I had to watch a tape or a dvd to learn how to fuck good?"

MaryJane whooped a laugh. "I can see it now. Poor Harold doing research. Sitting in front of his television, his pants down, his cock in his hand, wanking as he watched porn."

"You're making fun. But it was working. I was picking up ideas. It was amateur porn I had to watch. The regular porn didn't have new ideas since Linda Lovelace found her clit in her throat."

"Poor, poor Harold. Your prick in your hand and jerking off with all your might. Just so you could find ways to get me off." "It is a big fucking deal. You came how many times last night and this morning? And what did I get out of it? I didn't even get a decent cup of coffee."

"You came too. You got to cum yourself from fucking me."

"You needed it more than me."

This was crazy. MaryJane was not going to win any argument with Harold. "Look, this is over! No more!" She was almost shouting. "You took advantage of me. You somehow figured out that I needed sex sometimes. So what? People need sex. That didn't make, doesn't make me into a slut."

"Yes it does. A slut needs it."

"Well, doesn't that make you and your friends sluts too?"

"No," Harold countered. Now his voice was almost as loud and angry as hers. "Men aren't sluts. You don't call a man a slut. A man is supposed to like to fuck. There's other things, but not slut. Jaysus,. he's macho. Ot there's another word, that he's a saytir, saton, something like that, I don't know. But not a slut. That's only for women."

MaryJane shook her head. There was no reasoning with him. "You know what: You are a male chauvinist pig."

"You know what: You are a fucking slut. You're a slag, a cunt bitch!" Harold McCarthy stood. He looked down at MaryJane who was still sitting. "I'm going. Okay, like you want. I'm outta here."

"Good idea," said MaryJane. "And don't come back. I don't want to see any more. Next time you nag me to let you in, I am not going to." That hang dog expression was back on his face, MaryJane felt almost sorry for him. Almost. She felt a little sorry for her cunt. Almost.

"You don't even know what I had planned for you. You bitch that I'm getting money. You know what I got lined up? Almost lined up a sure thing? You know what? I told Buck Mulligan about the time you gave me a blow job behind the dumpster. He thought it was more than hot. You remember Buck? He was in your class with me. Works on Wall Street now. He's gonna get his bonus from the bank. Over three million this year. Last year he only got three quarters of a million. I got him where he's willing to drive up here and fork over a cool hundred grand when he gets his bonus for a bj from you from behind a dumpster near our old school. I'd go fifty-fifty with you on the dough. Old Buck got the hots for you."

"That's it. I'm not a whore prostitute. Go. Leave. Get out of here."

Harold shook his head, an 'I can't believe she didn't even think about it' shake of the head,' a very sad shake of his head at the fact that she was so stubborn. "You know, I'm leaving alright, but you'll be calling me soon as soon as you need another good fuck."

"Go," she shouted. MaryJane Huffman hated him. He made her out to be a slut. So what if she needed sex sometimes. Who didn't? And the cost of sex with Harold: his crudeness, his lack of manners, his general unpleasantness, his turds in the toilet bowl, his wet towels on the bathroom floor. He just did not seem worth it anymore, no matter how many times he got her off, no matter how he wracked her body with orgasms. "Go," she added, "and don't call me again. Don't call. Don't ring my door bell. Don't email me. No more. I'll take care of my sex by myself. Just get out of here."

He stood by her door and grabbed his groin. "You ain't getting anymore of this, slut, teach, Ms. Huffman. No more of this for you to scream and cum on." He muttered more of 50 cents' refrain, "'Bitches come and go.'"

"As if my having an orgasm is worth you leaving your turd in the toilet."

Harold just smiled.. "You'll be calling me." He walked out of her door, slammed it shut..

MaryJane followed him to the door and snapped the lock shut. "Yeah, I'm going to call him," she said to herself, "Yeah. For sure.".Her tone was pure sarcasm.