Chapter 10

Saturday, late morning, September 8th {Bob}

In the bathroom, I hauled out my cock, which was chomping at the bit.

"Is she really for me?" he gasped.

"No!" I said. "Get a grip!"

"I can't, he moaned. All I can think about are those luscious breasts!" He cried a single tear.

I have to admit it. I knew where he was coming from. I choked him for about twenty seconds, remembering those smooth swells of white flesh I had seen, and he finally gagged and tossed his cookies into the toilet bowl. I sighed. At least he wouldn't embarrass me any more, if I could go back out there with a straight face. I really didn't want to make this woman disappointed with me.

To my everlasting relief, when I left the bathroom she was still there, still talking to Bandit. He was sitting, hanging on every word. She looked at me.

"Bandit is just precious," she said. Her eyes wobbled a bit. "Umm ... I think you kind of forgot something,"

I looked down, at my gaping zipper, which was still firmly in the down position. My tidy whities were showing through. My cock was laughing its balls off.

I zipped up with a groan and an apology, and which she took with astounding grace.

"Well, that worked out pretty well," she said. "I'm glad I could help you."

"Me too!" I blurted. "I can't thank you enough."

"Maybe you could buy me dinner sometime," she said.

I stood there, frozen. A storm must have come up, because it was thundering to beat the band. I heard the thunder in my ears. It had a sort of rhythm to it, like a big bass drum pounding.

"Okay!" I yelled, so she could hear me over the noise of the storm.

"I should be going, now," she said, blushing for some reason. I heard her perfectly, even though the thunder was still hammering in my ears.

"Okay!" I yelled again.

She got up from where she'd been kneeling to talk to Bandit, and he lay down and rolled to his back, showing her how male he was. I had the insane urge to do the same thing. He wanted his belly rubbed. Me too. I managed to stay standing, though, and she plucked a pen from my pocket. I had the beginnings of a grocery list on the counter, and she flipped it over and wrote on the back.

"That's my number," she said. "For when you're hungry."

I wanted to yell that I was hungry right now, but I knew I needed to prepare for such a happening, because if I tried to buy her dinner right now, they'd have to take me away in an ambulance. I was going to have to do some running or something. I wasn't in nearly good enough shape to survive being on a real date with this woman. She bent over to run manicured fingernails along Bandit's belly, and I swear, the little puke's penis extended from its sheath! Right there in front of her! I about died.

She giggled, and stood up, and I got another millisecond view down her shirt.

Then, my tunnel vision watched her walk to the front door, which she had to open all by herself, because I was growing roots out of my feet into the floor. She smiled, and waved. I think my arm flopped up and down, but I'm not sure. The door closed and suddenly I could move again.

Bandit was in the act of getting ready to jump up onto the counter, where my grocery list ... and much more importantly ... her phone number were. I lunged for the piece of paper, as Bandit rocketed up off the floor. He barked at me, like he was challenging the ownership of that precious piece of paper. I snarled back at him, and he actually backed up a little! Then, just to spite him, I took the lid off the heavy ceramic cookie jar, which never had cookies in it, and dropped her number in there with the other grocery list, the one that belonged to my still-unknown princess. I put the lid back on the cookie jar and barked at Bandit to get down. He sniffed the cookie jar and I yelled at him again. He took his time, but he did eventually jump back to the floor.

That other list in the jar didn't seem quite so urgent now. I mean my princess was still out there, but I was pretty sure a woman like her would have found a man by now. What red-blooded man could resist her? And ... I had met Chris. She wasn't my princess. I couldn't imagine Chris lying in bed, with whipped cream on her nipples, saying "I have olives, Baby, and I'm hungry right now!" She was too smooth for that. She had class. I had calmed down a little, and knew she was just being nice to me. She had helped out the geek, doing her part to help those less fortunate than herself. She'd probably laugh about it ... tell her boyfriend about it as she hugged him later that night.

Wait a minute. Why would she give me her number if she had a boyfriend? Would she just make up some excuse when I called? Did she, too, do her part to keep all those shampoo companies in business? Or would she just be generally vague about it: "Sorry, I can't tonight ... or the next night, or the next. Call me in another month." My heart ached already.

I was breathing normally now, and the storm had stopped. I looked at Bandit, who was just sitting there, staring at me, like it was time to feed him or something.

"Be with you in a minute," I said to him. I got in the cookie jar and pulled out her number. A calm settled over me. Might as well get it over with. I picked up the phone and punched numbers.

"Hello?" came her voice. It was like music in my ear.

"Will you be hungry tomorrow night?" I asked. I didn't even tell her who I was.

"Starving," she said.

The storm was back. I didn't see any lightning, but it was thundering to beat the band. I had an errant thought that I'd left the window down on my truck.

"See you then?" she said.

"Urgh," I croaked.

"What? I can't hear you," she complained.

"Yeth," I blurted.

"Okay ... great ... bye."

The line went dead. I stared at the phone for a few seconds. I had a date. A real live date, with a real live woman. Not only that, she had real live breasts, and real live full lips, and a laugh that made me tingle. I picked the phone up, which had somehow managed to slip from my fingers. If I was going to go on a real date, I didn't want her to have to sit in a puddle of water. I went to roll the window up on my truck.

It was dry as a bone outside! I looked up at the sky, which didn't have a cloud in it. Feeling like I was in an episode of The Outer Limits, I went back inside. Bandit was going in and out of his dog door, over and over again, and barking happily. If he could have humped it, he would have. But he couldn't, so he humped my leg instead.

If I was the kind of guy who kept a journal, I'd have written ten pages in it about this day.

Saturday, afternoon, September 8th [Chris]

Realizing Bob probably felt the way I felt when James had asked me out the first time, I felt good about giving Bob the chance to ask me out and then giving him my positive response when he called. I would have him asking girls out right and left before it was all over with. He was such a sweet guy; he deserved to have a wife to take care of him.

The minute I walked in the door my phone was ringing. When I answered, Lacey started in about my going back to the park the next morning and I let her go on for several minutes before reminding her we could talk about it at Grandma's in another hour. She was happy with this and I went to get a shower.

I was drying off when a simple solution to Lacey and her hang-up over meeting my husband in the park came to me. At the same time, if things worked out, maybe I could get my entire family to see I was capable of finding my own dates. Maybe they'd lighten up a little and get off my back, so I really could go out and find my own dates.

Pulling on my robe, I went to the kitchen for the phone and dialed Bob's number.

Saturday, afternoon, September 8th {Bob}

I stared at the dog door. Bandit was happily going in and out. Every time he came in he looked at me and wagged his tail. I had actually made him happy! Well ... Chris had made him happy. She was the one who was actually responsible for the success of the project. She was also responsible for something else ... the lump in my pants. There's a button in a man somewhere, and when a woman like Chris suggests he have dinner with her, that button gets pushed. It's a little like one of those things that Jet pilots wear, where if they have to ditch in the ocean, they pull a cord and presto - something inflates.

You can't help it, even when you feel bad about it, like I did. Chris was a nice girl. I could just tell. She wasn't a hot-blooded virgin, like the woman who wrote my grocery list, and was primed for steamy sex, with a guy who I hoped was me, who was definitely primed for some hot, steamy sex. No, Chris wasn't like that woman, which is why I felt kind of bad about that boner. But a boner doesn't have a conscience, and mine was yelling at me.

"Hey! Stupid ... I'm down here!" it was yelling. "You let her get away, you dufus!"

"Shut up!" I said to my erection. "I'll make you sorry you ever even thought about her."

"You and whose army?" taunted my prick, straining inside my pants. "You want her. Admit it. You just want some hot, steamy sex, and so do I, you moron. Now, quit messing around and take care of me, since you let her get out the door."

"I already took care of you," I said.

"That was just the appetizer," scoffed my penis. "That was quick and dirty. Now I want the full deal. You let her get away and I want a half hour massage to make up for it!"

The sad thing was that my manhood was right. I was an expert at taking care of him myself. I left Bandit to wear a path in the tile by the dog door and went to my bedroom. I closed the door. I'd learned the hard way to do that. One time, when I'd seen a movie -- I couldn't even remember the name any more -- and I'd gotten all excited over Sandra Bullock, I'd been happily flailing away at my meat, trying to imagine it was Sandra's hand on my cock instead of my own, when Bandit had come bounding up onto my bed. I didn't pay any attention to him at the time, because ... you know ... I was busy. Later reflection informed me that Bandit thought I had a new chew toy for him, and was shaking it, trying to get his interest.