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She was a real treat, a fine dame of a woman.

Slightly chubby, with wrinkles beginning to form about the outside of her eyes, and hair that looked like it was once well cared for.

She wore tight booty shorts and fishnet stockings, along with a long-sleeved punk rock t-shirt.

The standard uniform of that girl who had self-esteem and daddy issues in high school, got kind of good looking and desirable in her 20's, and hasn't realized how much she has let herself go yet. She'll realize soon enough.

I'll make sure of that.

We'd been walking ever since we left the bar together to go get food, and a refill for her Juul pod.

I threw away my cigarette and moved to kiss her.

She tasted like stale nicotine and Burger King.

One of her hands wrapped around the back of my head and forced my mouth into hers even harder, like she was trying to forcefully display a sort of impromptu passion she could no longer feel. I'm not sure if she was trying to seduce me, or convince herself that she could still feel anything after spending the past 10 years riding cock indiscriminately without ever having a single meaningful relationship.

I didn't care, how could I?

The pussy was easy, and lacked consequence. And I had better plans.

I shoved her against the dumpster, and put my hand on her shoulders, gently, but firmly, pushing them down, giving the not so subtle implication that I wanted her on her knees. She didn't resist in the slightest, willing going down, and preparing to unzip my fly.

That was when I knew I had to strike. This was gonna be sweet. I was gonna hurt her, hurt her really badly, and leave her right behind this dumpster, all alone to wallow in pain by herself.

Right as she was about to pull out my cock, I reached into my back pocket, and she watched my hand with horror.

I pulled out my wallet.

"Is 20$ enough? I don't have that much cash on me, but I can go use the ATM if you need me to."

I began to rifle through my wallet and could the bills I had.

She was stricken with terror.

"What? I am not a hooker!!!"

She seemed incredibly offended, just as was my intention.

"Oh, so sorry! It was just the way you dressed, and the fact that you were about to blow me behind a dumpster in the 7-11 parking lot, I mean, I just assumed, eh, I guess this is kind of awkward, but you could see how I could make that mistake, righttt???"

Every word cut into her deeper and deeper as she came to a rapid moment of self realization. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

Oh, well, sorry about the miscommunication. Here is something for your troubles.

I dropped 15 dollars on the ground, and walked away.

She cried, and picked up the bills.


https://open.substack.com/pub/theodorekentwallace/p/behind-the-dumpster-of-the-7-11?r=1vlklp&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web