Who Am I Now? - Sex Stories

Who Am I Now?

... emotional circuit board and pop her lights out. His friend laughed like the one, hysterical sounding gut laugh that always stands out in a sitcom laugh track. Bill cringed. He wanted to stand up and grab the maladjusted little fuck by the scruff of the neck and smack his empty skull against the pole until he understood concept of manners. No. He wanted to get off the train and walk up Penelope’s rickety stairs without anything happening that anyone would remember longer than a few seconds. He wanted to disseminate molecules and slip through the cracks in the doors and windows into the dank air the subway tunnel. The blonde rolled her eyes without letting them land on the rudeboys. She pulled a canister of pepper spray out of her purse and clutched it while she went on thumbing texts with one hand. “Awww, baby, don’t be like that,” the alpha poodle crooned. “Yeah. Don’t be like that,” his poodle shadow refrained. The train started to bank and slow down. The next stop was less than a bad moment away. The toughs started to move toward the door. Bill looked back down at the floor, but it was too late. They caught him looking. Big sneakers crowed his peripheral vision, but he kept looking down. He wasn’t in this. He was going to see Penelope. They were going to do things together that had nothing to do with anything else. With none of this. Suddenly, one of the toughs yelled “BOO!” next to Bill’s ear and he flinched. Hard. Hitting the back of his head on the window behind him. ...

... The rudeboys stood there laughing while the train pulled into its stop. The bigger guy he’d fallen against before glanced at them like something he’d just as soon wipe off the bottom of his shoe. He didn’t look at Bill. Neither did the blonde. A few commuters looked over and watched the idiots laugh. They were practically their own, entire laugh track by now. Bill’s pulse was racing and his ears felt like they were on fire. The train felt like it was taking all week to come to a stop, but it finally did. The rudeboys were still laughing when they got off. There were two more stops to Penelope’s neighborhood. Bill grabbed the pole he was sitting beside and held on. He wasn’t going to list again. He didn’t look at the dark skinned man and he didn’t look at the blonde. There was only his reflection in the window on the other side of train, and a cold, cement wall blasting by behind the veil of his face. The house where Penelope lived was a ten minute walk from the subway stop. The neighborhood didn’t look like the city anymore, even though technically it was. When Bill came up the stairs onto the sidewalk, he set his briefcase down and zipped his coat up to his neck. It was almost cold enough to snow, but that meant the streets would be mercifully quiet. He picked up his brief case and jammed his balled up left fist into his coat pocket. The part inside him that felt scraped out tonight felt raw enough he didn’t know how he could look at Penelope. The last thing he could do was ...