Chapter 7

It’s Sunday 2pm. I’m driving in my car; almost home. What a week.

It was amazing. I smile.

I’m still driving home. Not there yet.

Ping!

Who’s that?

Text message from Kari: We miss you already honey. Friday can’t come soon enough:)

I’m driving. Shouldn’t really text and drive.

Me::)

I grin like a fool. Oh, Kari. Ken.

Fuck yeah!

That was the best vacation ever! Tomorrow, I have to go back to work. Shit! One. Two. Three. Too many days until Friday. Oh well. I have to wait. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or is it fungus? Both?

Brit!

Why am I thinking about Brit? Oh, yeah ... she was my English teacher. Fungus! Haha! That’s funny. I heard it in a song. Did I? In a movie maybe? I know I didn’t make it up...

Ping!

Kari again? She must really miss me. Text message from ... what the ... Brit? Speak of the...

Brit: I need to talk to you. Please call me!

Needs to talk to me ... about what? I paid my half of the rent for the last month. Not paying another cent.

Me: No

Whatever insane thing she needs to talk to me about, she can text it to me. Not getting sucked into her bullshit.

Ping!

Brit: Face to face. Wayne’s Coffee. In 30 minutes. Please!!

Please? How polite of her. What the heck ... might as well go and get it over with.

Me: OK!

Ping!

Brit::)

Smiley face? At least she’s not pissed. Although she can easily smile and be pissed at the same time.

What a shame. She’s so hot. Hotter than Kari? No way, but still. Really hot. All right.

Wayne’s Coffee.

I can get some coffee and a muffin. I need some coffee ... and a muffin.

I arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes later. I was a few minutes early, but Brit was sitting at a table outside, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. She looked simply stunning. As usual, her lustrous, long, layered golden hair cascaded down her back.

Bangs? That’s new. Stylish. Sexy. I like...

She was wearing a white tank top and tight low cut jeans. The strap of her white bra hung loosely down her shoulders, steering my attention toward her large, pear-shaped breasts.

She was wearing.y favorite outfit of hers.

I thought about her perfect, naked tits for a while, automatically comparing them to Kari’s. Brit’s boobs were much paler, well not just her boobs, but her skin was paler than Kari’s. Although Kari was a decade older than Brit, her body looked firmer; her boobs also felt firmer than Brit’s. I am not saying that Brit’s body was less attractive than Kari’s.

What am I saying?

She was also toned and athletic, but Kari probably spent more time exercising at the gym. Now, back to their boobs; Brit’s areolas were larger, but her nipples, although very nice and delicious, were not as long and stiff as Kari’s.

In conclusion; I love boobs, and both Kari and Brit had lovely boobs. Beautiful, delicious, suckable, kneadable boobs.

When I reached Brit’s table, she looked up at me as she blew a thick cloud of smoke out of her cute flaring nostrils. Her beautiful blue eyes were heavy with a kind of deep sadness that I had never seen in them before.

“Hi,” she said as she butted her cigarette in an ashtray. “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” I said, giving her half a smile. “Are you all right?”

“No!” she said, her pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Let me go buy you a Cortado and a muffin,” she said as she rose up to her feet.

“You don’t have to,” I said. “I’ll get it myself.”

“No,” Brit insisted, forcing a smile. “After all I put you through, I owe you at least a Cortado and a muffin.”

“All right,” I said as I sat down in a chair.

What the hell? I wasn’t expecting this. What is she up to? Is she playing a game? I don’t think so. Oh man, that outfit! She’s trying to seduce me ... and it’s working. She wants me back? Oh crap, that’s it: she wants me back!

Brit came back with my coffee and muffin, then sat back down in her chair. A couple of minutes passed in complete silence, then she said, “I ... I am so sorry, Leo!” Then a single teardrop trickled down her beautiful cheek.

Wow! What do I do? What am I supposed to say?

“I treated you like shit,” Brit continued, drying her eyes with a napkin. “I was horrible to you.”

When I didn’t respond to her heartfelt confession, she continued to tell me that she was sorry that she didn’t appreciate me, didn’t love me enough, didn’t treat me right and so on, because she was angry and jaded after her failed marriage and she took her anger out on me.

“I don’t know what to say,” I said, smiling uncomfortably. “I appreciate your honesty, and accept your apology.”

Her eyes suddenly lit up and she let out a sigh of relief. I looked at her and then continued, “But I haven’t changed. I am the same “gay” guy, not worthy of your love and company!”

Passive aggressive much? I needed to act like a man and tell her how I really feel.

I told her that I had listened to her advice and met a couple online. I let the news sink in before I started to tell her how happy I was with my new lovers, that I would never go back to the way things were, not even to the time when I first met her, when she was incredibly nice to me.