"He pulled into the parking space in front of the building.

Pucker and I proceeded to get out of the car.

He put his arms around me and held me close like we were two young adventurous lovers walking through a park in the daylight and sunshine-yet, we ended up in the rear of the dimly lit office building.

It was immediate.

The stroll ended quickly.

No conversation whatsoever.

Pant’s down.

He just wanted in.

My face and hands were against the brick wall while he proceeded to pound into me as if he was twenty-minutes fresh from jail while panting like a werewolf in the woods.

Before I knew it, he had me up and off of my feet. I had to rely on his lust and trust to keep me levitated for all that my poor elbows, hands and face could not do to hold me up against that wall.

My fingers were digging in between the bricklaying as if I was somehow going to dig a whole through the cement for my fingers to fit into.

He just wanted it. He didn’t care how, where or when. He was just fucking me like it was becoming apart of his nature and for survival. His body was stuck firmly into mine like we were mating rather than making love.

Minutes into it, bright lights from a heavy diesel truck lit the back building and I immediately lost Pucker’s trust and lust. He just dropped me and ran away like some rabbit in the woods running from a Laughing Hyena. It happened so fast that before I could pull my skirt back down all the way, he was no where to be found.

I was shocked and literally caught like a deer in headlights.

I placed my hand atop my squinted eyes and I looked into the light at a strange man who held both his hands up to me to apologize as if he was surrendering to the cops: “Are you okay? I’m sorry-are you okay? Is everything alright? I’m just back here to pick up the garbage cans to take them with me. I’m so sorry. I won’t hurt you!” he assured me.

He didn’t know if I was being raped and if my rapist ran away out of fear from being caught, or if we were just two youngsters that had found a place to make out away from home where we most probably still lived with our parents.

“I’m okay,” I said, while moving fast away from the spotlight of his big truck; trying to make my way around it to get to the front of the building for safety. His gigantic truck blocked the only way in to the back of the building, which too, was the only way out.

I was scared as hell.

When I made it to the front of that building, the parking lot was as empty as if I had just walked out of the woods of someone’s dream and as if Pucker had never been there.

Though where I lived was a literal hop, skip and a jump away from the office building, I just knew that Pucker had to be were somewhere near. So, I stood at the top of the fenced area of the building underneath the street lights to see if he would come pulling up.

Every car that passed, heading north and south began to sound like swishes of lashings ripping at my heart. I began to cry because I just couldn’t believe that he would just hop in the car and take off-not knowing what could have happened to me in the back of that building with some stranger. Luckily the man wasn’t crazy because he could have taken full advantage of me back there and no one would have known, heard or saw a thing.

I walked that block down to my house dropping nonstop tears, trying to figure out where I was going to go from here with Pucker. I began to feel like no matter what I would do to accommodate his urges or what I would do to hand to him-his pride and ego back; nothing was ever going to be enough-nothing.

It was merely becoming a habit, and something he was setting himself up for having: anytime, any day and any where. And for me, I was setting my self up for giving: anytime, any day and any where-with no dues paid, clean slates or new beginnings considered.

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letting him fuck me in parks   I created a monster out of simply trying to please him in ways he could never imagine. Thinking that he would consider it all gestures of the love I had for him and the apology I never gave to him. He never took it as that. He didn’t have the capacity to. So, he just took full advantage of it all.

You name it, I did it for him.

His urges began to resemble that of a crack head coming for a fix at various times, many times within a period of each day. It didn’t matter. I never turned him away. I just dealt with it. It was getting far too out of hand for my heart.

I was processing it all as I walked the block down to my house.

Once inside, I ran myself some bath water and took the phone into the bathroom with me-just to see if he would even call. Midways into my bath, he did:

“Are you alright?” he whispered, like some coward in the woods hunting wabbit.

I yelled-I know it must’ve scared him:

“The hell do you mean Pucker? Why did you leave me back there like that? You ran so fast that you were gone before the man could even step outside of his truck! And for your information and care…since you care so much now…That man could have raped me back there and could have very well gotten away with it. You were no where to be found! Fuck you Pucker!” I scolded him.

“‘Fuck you mean? You live right there!” he yelled, as if he was pointing at a house next door.

“‘Fuck YOU mean? The point is. I could have been held against my will back in the dark where you left me-running off like some fucking fugitive! What kind of shit was that? Ugh!” I uttered.

“‘Fuck you want me to do? What the fuck? It just happened so fast, man-damn!” he uttered back.

I did not reply.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” he asked slowly, lowering his voice.

I moved my fingers in the water to let him know that I was still on the line but I refused to speak another word on that phone.

He thought his usual lusty grunts would work like it normally would:

“You looked so pretty today Angie. I couldn’t help myself,” he offered as an apology.

I still did not reply.

He sat on the phone the entire time that I continued to bathe.

The whole time, he was fidgeting around and huffing and puffing, hoping I would break the silence and say something.

I refused.

I took my time.

He was about as afraid to say one word, just as he was afraid when he heard that truck pull up in the back of that building. 

I still took my time.

When I got out, I dried off, applied lotion all over my body and got in the bed-I was still taking my time, with that phone horn being transferred from my right to left ear; daring him to speak without being spoken to or to hang up.

I was still moving in slow motion.

He thought he was in for our usual-and that I would finish him off.

Bull-shit.

The moment I lay my head on the pillow, I hung up on him and rolled the receiver off so that the phone would ring busy.

I refused to give or receive anything “him” at this point-down to the sound of his voice.

It was a must that I leave him as high and dry as he dropped and left me low. And for the next week or so, I refused to answer any of his calls, cat calls and fiendish urges. I knew those few days would next to kill him. I had to teach him a lesson, and I meant business about it. I just wanted for myself, the lesson: “How to Drop His Ass-For Good…”

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