Heart of Freeman.

Allie March liked to say Grayson Clarke was the man of her dreams. Well, he was straight-forward and gave her attention. He had been her first love in the heart and in the bedroom—a box that also served as a kitchen, living room, and dining room in the middle of an Oregon trailer park.         “Well, now that you’ve proposed, wouldn’t it be awesome if we lived together?” said Allie. Now that she had appeared at Grayson’s workplace in person, she couldn’t understand why he wanted distance. Every one of their online conversations began with him telling her how much he wanted to touch and kiss her. All of his messages begging her to come down to Texas were still saved in her phone in a folder with a heart on the cover.      “Live together? You’re kidding, right?” Grayson’s chin crushed his Adam’s apple.     “I don’t understand what the problem is, Grayson.” She sat on the passenger seat of his car, staring through the window panel. The dusk shadowed the cars leaving the spiral-shaped parking lot building. They were, at least, on the tenth floor because she could see half of Downtown Houston.      Grayson dropped his head onto the backrest, contemplating her features. He brushed her silk-like curls behind her ear and transferred his fingers down her neck. Her naturally red-colored lips were like small rose petals facing each other, contrasting her lustrous eyes.      Her skin blushed in a peach tone, sensing his digits under her bra.     “Stop.” Allie crossed her arms over her breasts.     “Agh, come on.” Grayson pressed her smooth sponge, but she forced his wrist away. He had a tendency to touch her every time she wanted to get serious, but when he spoke, she had to remain quiet.     “Okay, okay. You’re mad.” He lifted his palms. “Look, it’s true. It upsets me to see you here.”     She paid attention.      “But it’s not because of you,” he added. “There’s something I haven’t told you; something that I didn’t want to tell you and now that you’re here...” he sighed, lowering his head. “Gosh, all I want to do is move in with you, Allie, believe me. That’s impossible in my financial situation. I live in an eight-hundred square feet apartment with three other guys and I can barely pay the rent. Literally, seventy percent of my salary goes to pay student loan debt.”     Allie straightened her neck, softened her gaze, and held his hand. “Grayson, why didn’t you tell me this before?”     She most definitely didn't want to live with strange men, mostly when she was getting married. Those were no conditions to start a fresh life in Houston, Texas. She never imagined him to have financial issues since he was a lawyer. A junior lawyer. How could she have been so selfish?      "I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of you if we got married." He rubbed his temples.      “My first thought wasn’t to marry you for money. You love me and it's all that matters." She pecked him on the lips.     He tugged her neck forward and continued kissing her.     Their tongues were slow dancing in each other’s mouths. She enjoyed his nicely cut beard and his mustache tickling her jaw, although he could be aggressive sometimes. That's because he loved her so much.      His touch always got her excited until she heard his belt unbuckle. Her mouth pulled away five inches.     “What are you doing?” She meant, I know what you’re doing.     “It’s been such a long time, Allie. It misses you. It misses your lips." His erect p***s continued to grow out of his briefs.     “I won’t do that here. It’s a public place." Her eyes shifted to the dashboard, not wanting to look at his mound.      "We’re inside my car. It’s all right." He gripped the back of her head and forced her toward his groin.      “No. I want to do it, but not like this. Let me find a place and then we can talk about that stuff." She labored back upright and fixed her hair. It was common for her fiancé to do these things. She wished she wasn't so boring, but she grew up in a religious orphanage and went to Catholic school.      "Don't be that way, girl. It's getting frustrated," he shook his erection.      The girl winced and nuzzled against the car door.      “Fine." He rolled his eyes.     The parking lot got quiet.     She pondered over the way he made her feel when he wasn't trying to get inside her panties.      Eternal happiness. That’s what Allie March thought when she inhaled the t-shirt her boyfriend had left behind in her trailer. She could count the times she had seen him in person with her fingers, but he was not afraid to say I love you on the second date.     They had been in a distant relationship for three years. Sharing their feelings through a webcam or a phone wasn’t easy.     Not being able to touch Grayson every time she wanted had been taking a toll on her. She felt lonely, but she would not look for comfort in someone else. The ladies in the religious habit taught her all about a******y.     Cheating is wrong, even in a board game, young lady.      It was common sense—if it hurt someone else, doing it was out of the question.     That’s why, when Grayson asked her to marry him a week ago, she had to pack her things, drive six hours to Houston and surprise him.     The proposal was not extraordinary. He proposed over the phone, saying he couldn’t wait any longer for them to be together. She wanted the same thing and succumbed to her own desperation.     Then, sounds of beating meat pulled her out of her reverie. Her fiancé of seven days was jerking himself violently. Lips partly opened, revealing his lower teeth. He looked as if he was suffocating despite his noticeable breathing.      "Show me your t**s," he said. His eyelids drooped while his hips thrust slightly forward.      It was hard not to stare at the bizarre action. She had expressed her disgust before, but he told her this was what all men did when they were in love with a girl—they m*********d constantly. Many late nights she spent listening to his moans over the phone.      "I shouldn't," she said.      "You have to get used to these things. I want to see you touch yourself." His right hand moved faster.      The lawyer turned so that his rod was pointing at her. If she had to describe it, she could only call it a protruding mass as it was the only male genitalia she had seen in her life. For economic reasons, she used the restricted public internet and her cellphone's signal was too slow to stream educational p**n.      "I just drove for hours, Grayson. I don't feel like it." She rubbed her hands by her neck.      "You sure make it hard for a man to pump himself," said Grayson. His hand stopped and his forehead dropped on the steering wheel. His manhood still exposed, waiting for more to happen.      "I'm sorry," she whispered.      "How is this gon'a work, huh?" His fingers shifted between them.      "You have to give me time to get used to it."      "I've been patient, Allie."      Allie swallowed, pulling the fabric of her neckline together.      "You're so beautiful. You know, I'm obsessed with you, right?" He caressed her arm.      One thing to love about Grayson was the countless compliments he gave her. Obviously, sometimes the flattery came with s****l fees, but it was his way of making her feel special. Their relationship could not be about s*x. If that were his prime intention, he would have never asked her to marry her.      The girl nodded and sent him a half-smile.      "I love you," she said.      "Oh, yeah? Give me some love." He curled his finger at her with a smirk.      Hesitantly, Allie leaned over her fiancé's thighs.      "That's how I like it." Grayson gathered her hair as she settled his c**k inside her mouth.      She sucked softly. She had done it to him before, yet was unsure of what to do. He tasted sour with a particular odor. It should not have bothered her. Years ago, when she worried about her own hygiene, Mother Lilly told her in secrecy that everyone smelled down there. Like Grayson said, she had to get used to it. But it didn't stop her from holding her breath.      She gagged.      This is normal.     As she thought of trivial matters to keep her from throwing up, the man started guiding her until he lodged himself in her throat. He moaned as she found no air.      "Yes, yes, yes." His grip tightening on her hair. Her skull pouncing on him.     The contents of her stomach threatened to escape, so she impelled backward on her seat. Her lungs gulped for air.      "No." He stroked his mass once, and discharged his milt on her blouse.      Allie's attempt to dodge it only spread it down to her pants. She pulled the hem of her blouse with her thumbs and curved her stomach under her ribs.      Grayson closed his eyes for a moment and slid toward the edge of the driver's seat.      "Don't look at it like that," he said.      "Do you have some tissue?" she asked.      He opened the dashboard drawer, grabbed a bundle of paper napkins, and wiped his paste off her.      "Thank you." He kissed her on the cheek.       "What for?" She watched his hands.     "Making me feel good."      The girl grinned. Pleasing him was all she wanted. And she was happy to hear his appreciation, although what she had done for him made her blush in embarrassment.      “I parked my van two blocks from here. Do you think you can drop me off?” she asked.     “Sorry,” Grayson winked, “I promised my roommate I’d get groceries after work, so I’m kind of late for that.”     That’s understandable. He had important things to do.        "Oh, all right, then. I’ll call you when I find somewhere to stay."      Allie exited Grayson’s car and watched him speed down the spiral road. Walking toward the elevator, she wondered if she had to sleep in her van that night. The dinosaur did not have proper air conditioning, and the Texas weather was unpredictable. Besides, she had laundry to do. Surely, the incident in Grayson's car had ruined her outfit.      The front pocket of her jeans bulged with miscellaneous items. She pulled out her smartphone to check for hotel prices when coins, a candy wrapper, and a gas station receipt fell on the pavement. Her knees dropped, picking up a quarter and a few pennies, then she reached for a wrinkled paper in front of her. Maybe it was a flyer for a lost puppy.     She unfolded it, finding a number on it with a very creative title that read, Wanted: Ugly Female Roommate.     I am looking for a clean, honest, UGLY, FEMALE roommate in the Kirby Heights. Did I say Kirby Heights? The best place to live if you go to college but hate partying. Your jaw will drop at how affordable it is. Don’t believe me? Call Dean Freeman for an interview.     P.S.: Don’t bother calling if you are a dude or if you think you’re too pretty.     Allie chuckled at the flyer and gave the number a try. Even if it was a prank, it was the first opportunity that knocked on her door.     “I hope my muffin tops and my lack of sleep make me look ugly enough." She pinched the fat around her hips. She never thought she looked horrid, but there were many parts of her body she believed needed fixing—a bit chunky here and there. Short and big-boned. A bit on the larger side compared to girls her height. She tried a diet once to a huge fail. If she could lose ten pounds, she would not complain as much. Either way, losing weight would never fix her rounder than average face and tiny fat lips.