Sometimes shit just happens. Maybe it happens for a reason, maybe it's just the perfect confluence of events. In my case I honestly believe it was just that, the latter. An unseen force guiding me through life, steering me to and through events which shaped my future and ultimately my life.
This is the story of how I went from a normal, pussy chasing asshole to being the property of a well-hung black gentleman.
You can't make this shit up folks. What follows is a true story. Only names have been changed to protect my old friends and my new man.
At 18 I was gung-ho for my country. After the terror attacks of 9/11, I decided to join the Marines to do something. When they asked me at the recruiting office what I wanted to do, I told them I wanted to be a medic. The Sargent laughed when I answered his question asking me why. I told him I wanted to kill bad guys and save the good guys.
He sent me to the Navy. That's where, after boot camp I was accepted into Corp School. 5 months later I was doing my practical applications at a Naval Hospital. That stint should have lasted no more than 6 months. Unfortunately for me I was stuck there for almost 2 years. While on liberty, I met a woman who it turned out to be the start of the confluence. We dated for a while and she eventually moved in with me. Let's call her Kathy.
When I finally got my orders to be attached to the Marines, their Fleet Marine Force (FMF) to be exact it was more training. First, those of us who came over from the Nav. had to learn about weapons and how to use them and how to clean them. Once we completed our initial training we were assigned to a company.
I thought this was great. Now I get to go kick some terrorist ass.
Not to be. I was left marching through swamps and woods with my company. Camping out in the rain for days at a time as we played our war games. As the company medic I had to deal with chiggers and blisters.
Eventually Kathy and I got married. We discussed it decided to make a baby. That's all it took for me to get orders overseas. The first letter I got from my wife was that we were successful. She was pregnant.
After going through hell for nearly a year, the details of which I won't bore you with, I was at last coming home. I would home a month before our son would be born. Now I was very excited about becoming a daddy. I spent what little money I didn't put into Kathy's allotment on foreign baby clothes and other baby stuff.
Just before jumping off station I received a last letter from Kathy. The essence was, we were done, finished, kaput. Well, she was done with me. Her exact words were, "don't look for me when you get back. I won't be there." I'll never forget reading that line as long as I live. I say that because that letter nearly killed me. Ripped my guts right out of me.
When I got back to my off-base rental, divorce papers were waiting for me. My car wasn't. Strange as this may sound, she didn't take it. The note that accompanied the divorce papers said she had stored it. She gave it to someone I didn't know to keep for me. The bitch didn't tell me who or where though.
Besides that, the cunt cleaned out our bank accounts. I came home broke. 6 more months remained on my enlistment and I was as broke as a dead dick dog.
In the divorce papers she asked me to send her things to her parents. Shit. Fuck that. What I couldn't sell I gave away. What no one wanted I threw away. In the trash with her crap went the divorce papers.
In the crapper went me.
I drank and popped pain pills for a week before a corpsman buddy stopped by. Manny helped me pull my act together and together we went looking for my car. Now that may sound like a fantasy but where we were stationed was a very rural place. We went from one small housing development to another when we spotted my car in someone's driveway. I knocked on the door and the guy who answered seemed like we were disturbing him.
That's all I needed was a redneck giving me shit. He told me he had taken the battery out of my car and put it in his truck because his truck battery died. Manny and I jumped into action.
I used my spare key to grab some tools I had in a box in the trunk while Manny was popping the hood of the truck. Old redneck stood by cussing us while we removed my battery from his truck and put it in my car. Like I gave a fuck how he'd get to work the next day.
I have no idea how long that car was idle but she started right off. With a "fuck you too," to our redneck friend, Manny and I drove off in our respective vehicles. For his help, I gave the newly wed Manny and his wife my exe's sewing machine and an antique mirrored dresser.
Fuck Kathy. Fuck her lawyer too. I ain't signing a God damned thing.
I went back to my house and stayed drunk for three more days. Oh yeah, I chased the bourbon with a healthy dose of Vicodin and played every sad song I'd ever heard.
After a month or so I was snapped out of the funk by some other buddies who dragged me to a party of sorts. Basically, it was just a bunch of guys and a couple women smoking weed and shootin the shit.
One of the ladies caught my eye. Her name is Susan. For the purpose of this story I'll call her Sue to save me some typing.
Sue, I learned came down from somewhere in Illinois. Her sole reason for coming to a military town was to meet guys. Now some call those types "dependoppoptami". That's because they're looking to be the dependent wives of service men. Typical of those women, they tend to become extremely large. So large as a matter of fact, that there's a story going around that one of them trying to turn her husband on, dropped her panties to her feet. Unfortunately for him, even with her panties pooled at her feet, her pussy was still in them. No shit. Can you imagine the snail trail she leaves behind her as she trundles naked from the shower to the refrigerator? Enough yeast in that nasty pussy to make a loaf of bread.
Man, fuck this sandwich I have going right now.
Hence the name dependoppoptamus.
Now the black service guys loved them some fat white bitches. I am not making this stuff up. I know because several guys I knew told me how after I went overseas, Kathy could be seen with different soul brothers. Back then I was pretty much color blind. Now, however, I can see the allure. But I digress.
They told me that Kathy had gotten fat and was entertaining the troops, the black troops.
Back to Sue. We hit it off very well and pretty fast. She knew I was short timing it and it was okay with her for both of us to get the hell out of this military town to some place a tad more civilized.
She and I smoked plenty of dope together. We sang together. We fucked like rabbits too. When my time was up, I mustered out one August morning and she and I split for the left coast.
One stop in Illinois to meet the folks was followed by a nice drive to San Francisco baby. The city by the bay. Baghdad by the sea. Back then it was still expensive. I mean rent for a one-bedroom apartment cost dollar, dollar bills man. You could make it rain for the landlords and it wasn't enough.
Sue got one job, I got two. Working my ass off and going to school trying to play catch-up after four years in the service.
It was a little more than two years later when Sue and I got married on Mount Tamalpais in Marin County. We spent little on the occasion and had a two-day honeymoon because we both had to get back to work.
I won't tell you how, but I discovered cocaine. Where you been all my life girl? Sue stayed with grass. Me, I "powdered" my nose frequently.
I also tried some other things just to be able to stay awake and study, wink, wink. But that's not really germane to this saga. I mention it so that the reader might understand how my life went from super patriot to the gentle spirit I've become.
Eventually Sue tired of my being gone all the time. Here I was, working toward a future. Going after a much-needed college education on the GI Bill and working two jobs to pay the exorbitant rent.
My wife of only one year began going out with her girlfriends from work. Yeah. Uh huh.
San Francisco is a diverse city. I think it also has the largest gay community this side of Provincetown Cape Cod. If you didn't already know that, you should get out more. Leave the comfy confines of your parents' basement, put down your I phone, go outside and familiarize yourself with the world around you.
Now I must be truthful here. I did find some of those gay bois kind of cute in a swishy sort of way. I can state with authority that they are lots of fun to party with. The dick grabbing and ass grabbing aside, the drugs were plentiful and those guys are great fun.
I guess I should say "us guys" but that would spoil the ending.
