ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
All stories originate within my own mind. Do not do stories about other stories, movies, or books. Any moron can do that. No stereo-typical characters or political correctness tolerated here, only true insight. [July 2006]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (9) Its Alright (Short Stories) A short little brain fart. [837 words] Out Of Sync (Short Stories) Maybe it was just a dream. [722 words] Sally Part One (Short Stories) Opening chapter in the adventures of Sally. [2,245 words] The 9-11 Opportunity (Short Stories) This idea was given to me by my boss. He is the star of the story. Fixed a couple of things. [3,872 words] The Best Life (Short Stories) If only such choices were so clear. [4,287 words] The Convict (Short Stories) In the mind of a serial killer. [723 words] [Psychology] The First Alex (Short Stories) Does anybody review any stories? [3,985 words] The Slow Man (Short Stories) Story of unstable retarded man. [1,267 words] Warm Goo (Short Stories) Oddly enough, this story has generated interest with a publisher (subject to some rewrite) [3,277 words]
Tom Gregory Allen
TOM
BY GREGORY ALLEN
There were times when Tom felt he could not understand women. Perhaps, it would be more precise to say that he understood women quite well, the lack of understanding came from the women not understanding themselves, or being in denial of obvious realities of their existence.
At the age of thirty-eight, he had seen many women come and go, very few of them seemed to know a good thing when they saw it. Most spurned the privilege of his wisdom and the life altering experience of sharing his bed. There was no other explanation except for unpleasant truth that most women were too stupid to know what was good for them.
This latest case provided proof of his point. He knew this girl, named Cindy, who offered her considerable charms to one loser guy after another. These guys obviously showed the lack of judgment and maturity necessary to ingratiate themselves with this primo piece of ass and keep her around for many sessions of pleasurable explorations.
Worse, this Cindy seemed to be unappreciative of his offer of companionship, using the lame excuse that he was too old for her. Tom knew this was a pile of bullshit. He was still obviously contemporary in his style and dress and was still easily able to perform with the frequency that would provide the girl with endless hours of breathless pleasure. He could still get it up every day, sometimes several times, given proper stimuli.
This Cindy chick had even taken to hanging out with her friend and co-worker named Betty. This Betty was equally stupid. She had the foolishness of passing on him long ago. He had long gotten over that disappointment. He had more recent and younger mental fuel to invigorate his self ministrations.
Lately, this Betty had shown even more impairment of judgment than anyone. She had left her husband, a great guy who knew the nature of proper relationships as well as Tom did, and taken up with this older loser that laid around the house all day, refusing to work, while he pretended to be a musician. That was just an excuse to get sympathy and sex from the soft minds of women, who showed a tendency to feel sorry for weak-minded, so-called, artistic types.
The vision in Tom’s mind of a typical evening at Betty’s house was of the two girls parading about in various states of undress, listening raptly to this idiot reading one of his pointless, incoherent stories, breathless with the hope that this guy could finally produce one of his rare and substandard erections and service one, or both of them, as they lay, grateful for the opportunity of enjoying the attentions of someone of such potential ability.
Sometimes, the vision seemed so real and overwhelming that Tom had to restrain himself from going by the house in hope of catching a glimpse of the pathetic orgy through the patio door window vicariously validating his lewdest thoughts.
No, Tom would wait and bide his time. One or both of the girls would regain their senses and the late-night fantasy fuel for his mind would transform into memories of past conquests, dutifully
READER'S REVIEWS (6) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"Ummmmm.....ok." -- JB, Oklahoma.
"I would agree with your desription...Tom is a prick. Wonder though what motivated you to write this?" -- mattie.
"Have you been living down my road?? I know a man that is Tom! Really well written and you can't help hating him." -- l Jay.
"Tom's supposed to be a prick? Sounded pretty with-it to me!" -- thePratmeister, Adelaide, SA, Australia.
"Liked the way this was written, I felt like I was actually in his mind a lot of the time. " -- Tamsin Butler.
"Left me wanting to hear more about the prick." -- J-bird.
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