Chapter 2 - I've Had All I Can Stand - I Can't Stand no More

A few days turned into weeks. I occasionally needed to go home for clothes or books or a tool that wasn't in my car's trunk. Every time I went home, Molly was still there.

I see Steve at school almost every day. He told me, "Now you're the phantom housemate, completely invisible." It's a good thing our rent is so cheap. I rarely saw Molly. Whenever I came around the dishes were washed.

Neither Steve nor I really knew what was going on. When Molly ate, she ate the food Steve and Bonnie bought. Eventually she cleaned out the pantry, again. Molly might own the place while we aren't around, but she's out of money. She had worn out all of her friends. I didn't realize how important our interactions were to her. I refused her offer of sex because I didn't want to trade sex for rent. She felt rejected by the last nice guy she thought she would ever see. Me. Molly was very depressed. Now whenever I came home, Molly mostly hid in her bedroom. Molly had fallen three steps back.

Since I didn't see her there was no evidence her personal hygiene had slipped to a new low or that her clothes no longer fit. There were no signs that she was looking for a job or another place to stay.

Since Molly didn't do any shopping, the cupboard went bare. She skipped more meals. I didn't know.

How could I notice? I wasn't in the townhouse very much. Molly practically has the place to herself. Molly was out of sight and out of my mind.

Sometime during Spring semester finals, Susan and Laura decided a Florida vacation was in order. I was working two jobs to pay for school. I can't afford to go. My fuck buddies decide to ask two other women to go along. Well. Shit. They like women too. I'm really envious.

Now what am I going to do? My two best fuck buddies are leaving town. I'm headed back to the townhouse (doghouse) for two weeks. In the days before they leave, the two women pump me for as much sex as possible. It's a long way to Florida. It keeps my mind off of what they will do without me. What is waiting back at my place?

After a night of making three-way good bye whoopie with Laura and Susan, I helped them load their stuff into the car. Then they were off, onto their Florida adventure.

Now alone, I headed home around 10:00 am. Half dissipated; I was already missing Laura and Susan. It had been what, three hours since my last orgasm? Are we all sex addicts? Sheesh, what a way to die.

The next two weeks without them will be no fun at all. I'm mentally evaluating a list of female friends thinking of who to call for a vacation sport fuck.

Then there is Molly. Right there in the middle of my couch. This morning, she didn't run, she just sat Indian style on the couch, watching Steve's crappy old TV. She took no notice of my presence when I said, "Hello."

Should she be on the fuck list? Maybe. Why not? Principles be damned. She'd be doable ... If she was clean. She had been kind of cute, for a while. Now she was skinnier, but stinkier, both better and worse at the same time.

Molly's stinky little cloud of body odor, her dirty clothes, and hair grossed me out. As I passed by her, I wondered out loud, "Have you no pride? You ate our food. Go ahead and use our soap."

I made a cup of coffee. After turning the TV down, I settled into my favorite chair and started to read a novel. It's vacation and what little time I have should be for fun. It's not so easy to ignore the TV. Or Molly. She chuckled and made comments about the old Fractured Fairytale and Dudley Do-Right cartoons. I guess she was talking to me; she could have been talking to herself.

I remembered the yoga session and thought about Cinderella hiding in the dirt. Responding to the memory of her camel toe, my dick started to swell. Then my nose said wake up boy and my dick shrunk back smaller than ever. Damn, if I'm gonna get her on my dick, she needs to smell better. At least it isn't a nasty cunt smell; she's more like old body sweat dirty clothes.

Finally her comments and aroma got to me. I couldn't stand her unappealing body aroma any longer and blurted out, "Hey, Molly. You stink. Go. Get cleaned up!"

Molly didn't even look at me. She didn't respond to my insult. She made no progress made toward cleanliness.

I should have been more aware. I should have known. Molly's lonely. I'm probably her only social outlet. If I'm thinking about fucking her, what is she thinking about?

Molly started to talk. She's interrupting my reading concentration. I get it; she's desperate for someone to talk with and here I'm curled up in my recliner trying to read. This is the longest I've been home in nearly a month.

Molly worked to get my attention with more comments on the cartoons. Though I only gave her short distracted responses, they were enough to encourage the lonely girl. I was being stupid and stubborn.

Can't she see, I'm trying to read? I could go away from her to my bedroom, but hell and damn, this is my house. I'm paying the rent and utilities. I'll be damned if I'll give way to a freeloader. Yeah, it's getting real stubborn in here.

More and more, her comments came faster and faster. Now, non-stop, she manically chattered. It seems like random shit. It's my turn to be non-responsive.

Then finally, her snippets become the prelude to her story. "Dudley Do-Right, Huh. Fuck that. Never seen one. But you guys are all Mounties. Yeah. That's it. You just want to mount us. All except you. You rotten fucker. You wouldn't mount me."

Now she has my attention.

"Principles. Fuck You. I got dumped by my boyfriend, if you can call a rat fuck'n abuser any kind of friend. He started out as a sexy bad boy. But he was a loser dropout. He told me I was fat and beat me. I lost weight so he beat me. He told me I'm ugly and beat me. I gave him blow jobs and fucked him but it was never good enough, so he'd beat me."

She continued coloring with real emotional sorrow, "I couldn't take it anymore. I screamed at him. He beat me. He burned my clothes, took my phone, and threw me out. They called me for work, he told them I'd skipped town. He said bad things about me and made me lose my job. I didn't have any clothes. No money. No phone. My car hardly runs. I have no home. This is so fucked up," Molly is in tears. I'd move to comfort her, but it's an approach avoidance thing. I'm drawn to comfort her, but she is so stinking unappealing. Man this is fucked.

I had been careful to express little interest to her random chatter, but now I can't help but say, "Jesus why did you take it so long? Why didn't you leave him when he hit you the first time?" She hung her head, shedding silent tears.

"Molly, it makes me sad, what men do to women. It's just as sad, what women put up with. My ex-girlfriend Kathy had been raped by her brothers and father. It became normal for her. If that's normal we're doomed." My voice was choked; I was having trouble with my emotions.

The emotional dam had broken; Molly's words flowed but now took a different path. "Bonnie says you are dating two women who live together. How does that work?" she asked.

"None of your business," I replied gently with a sigh, and then continued. "We all care about each other. We share time together."

She looked up with her tear streaks shining to ask, "You are always with your girlfriends. What are you doing here?"