Many Lives and Loves of Richard 07

Author's Notes: This story has been posted to Literotica. Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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Richard O'Shea paused for a long moment before climbing the concrete steps from street level to the front door of the apartment building. The July sun was brutal but the humidity was unbearable. Even though he had the key in hand, he still tried the doorknob first and it opened.

Entering the small unventilated lobby of the building, Richard took a moment to lock the door. Turning, he saw a couple of people standing by the mailbox kiosk. A slim young man and a slim, short red headed woman stood, the young man fiddling with the key for the mailbox.

"You needing in your box? Brent, hurry up; guy's needing in his box," the red head said, peering over her shoulder at Richard.

"Shut up, Linda. Damned key's stuck, all right?" Brent snapped.

"Key's got to be straight up and down or it won't work," Richard offered.

"It is," Brent snarled, clearly quite agitated.

Richard avoided the temptation to wipe his sleeve across his sweaty forehead; he already had three suits that needed to go to the dry cleaners' and couldn't afford to bring any more than those three. He fought down the sigh of impatience; Brent was not making his situation any easier as he jerked and rattled the mailbox key.

"Well, at least move so he can get to his box; you can get your key after he's done," Linda demanded.

"Shut up Linda, I'm getting it Linda, do you have to be such a... See? See? Got it," Brent spat angrily, finally jerking the key from the small keyhole.

Richard stepped up and unlocked his mailbox. There was nothing in the box. There was no letter from Althea Ridge, his literary agent letting him know that his latest novel was number one on the New York Times best seller list. There was no check for all of the royalties. With a sigh, he closed the box, made sure the key was straight up and wiggled to stubborn key free.

He followed the still bickering couple up the two flights of steps to the third floor landing. The stairwell was unventilated as well so was quite warm. He wished the landlord would get around to fixing the elevator, but it had been out of order several months before Richard moved into the building and would most likely be out of order for many more months.

"Uh?" B rent challenged, pausing in front of the door to the third floor hallway.

"I'm in Apartment three C," Richard said, even pointing over Brent's head toward the apartment.

"Oh, oh okay," Brent relaxed somewhat.

"We're in three D," Linda said, smiling at Richard.

Despite Brent's unfriendly manner, Richard smiled at the red headed girl. She was cute, in a pixie-like manner. Richard supposed she was five feet, possibly five feet and one inch in height. She could not weigh more than ninety five pounds, her freckled arms and legs looked spindly as she stood in tank top and baggy shorts.

Brent, her companion was probably five feet five or six inches, putting him about six inches shorter than Richard. Brent was somewhat stout; Richard supposed Brent and he both weighed about one seventy five. Brent's hair was a bushy of flat brown and his mud brown eyes were mean little slits in his ruddy face.

Richard kept his shoulder length brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. His warm brown eyes peered out from underneath a bushy eyebrow that went over both eyes. Unlike Brent, Richard had a warm smile; he supposed that was why he was one of the top salespeople at Cosgrove's Department Store.

"See yah, neighbor," Linda said as Richard unlocked his apartment door.

"See yah," Richard agreed, entering his stuffy apartment.

He could not afford to run his air conditioning when he was not at home. The air was warm and stuffy and again, Richard resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Jiggling the antiquated thermostat cause the air conditioning to begin a whirring, clanging cacophony of noise. The air was warm as it started pouring from the vent. Richard sighed as he finally stripped out of his suit jacket and unknotted his tie.

By the time he finished his tepid shower, the air was slightly cooler in the apartment. He ate a microwave meal; it was just too hot to hunker over the stove for any extended amount of time. He certainly would not use the oven in the small apartment.

After his less than satisfying meal, Richard put his laptop onto the coffee table and sat on the tweed couch. Dressed in only a pair of nylon shorts, Richard could feel each warp and woof of the couch's material. And he sat. Waiting. Waiting. And, just like the day before and the day before that, he had nothing.

A knock at the door startled him. In the four months he'd been living in this apartment, he had not had anyone knock on his door. Ragliano's Pizza would not climb the stairs; Richard had to meet the driver in the lobby.

"Fuck man! I got seven more orders; think I got time run up and down all them stairs, huh?" the young man asked, Brooklyn accent coming through loud and clear when Richard asked him about this mild inconvenience.

"Yeah?" Richard called out, peering through the peephole.

"Hi yah, neighbor!" Linda called out cheerfully, even waving at Richard through the peephole.

"Be right there," Richard called out, scurrying to his bedroom.

He pulled on a Dallas Cowboys tee shirt and hurried back to the door. Linda smiled, holding up a very puny looking joint. Brent stood behind Linda, permanent scowl on his face.

"You smoke?" Linda asked.

"I uh, yeah, yeah, y'all come on in," Richard said.

"Y'all? Y'ALL?" Linda hooted entering the apartment. "Where are you from?"

"Why, I'm from Texas, y'all," Richard said, giving an exaggerated drawl.

"Tee shirt didn't give that away? Huh? No one in their right mind would wear a Dallas Cowboys tee shirt in the heart of Patriots' country," Brent said, smiling the first smile Richard had seen on his face.

"Oh. Is that what that star means?" Linda asked, flopping down onto Richard's couch.

She made an exaggerated motion, sitting and squirming around on the couch. Brent sat down next to her on the couch. Richard went into the kitchen to get a saucer that they could use as an ashtray.

"Oh, look Brent. His couch doesn't rock," Linda said, tone nasty.

"Shut up, Linda. Just need to glue that back leg on," Brent snarled.

"So? So when you going do it, huh? When you going do it, Brent?" Linda demanded, fishing a disposable cigarette lighter from her purse. "Been like that how long?"

"God, this had better be some good shit," Richard thought, already getting a headache from their constant sniping.

It was fairly potent marijuana. The good thing about smoking weed was the couple were fairly quiet while taking hits from the joint, holding the smoke in their lungs, and waiting their turn.

"Love you," Linda said, softly kissing Brent on his lips.

"Uh huh," Brent agreed but did not say the same thing to her.

"Asshole," she muttered angrily as she fished a second joint from her purse.

"What? I said 'uh huh,'" Brent argued.

Richard fetched three cans of Gratchley's Beer from the refrigerator. Brent drank deeply and Linda took a few sips from her own can. Then she lighted the second joint.

"Hey, this all right?" Linda asked, wiggling out of her tank top.

"I uh, yeah, yeah, it, it's fine," Richard stammered, looking at her small freckled breasts and hard nipples.

The first time she kissed him, Richard looked over at the impassive Brent. Even though he was fairly certain he could take Brent in a fair fight, Richard was not convinced that Brent knew how to have a fair fight.

But Brent seemed unconcerned, draining his can of beer and grabbing Linda's can of beer. With a shrug, Richard returned Linda's kiss and even chanced a fondle of her breast.

"Like my little bitty titties?" Linda giggled, even shaking them for Richard's amusement.

"They're nice," Richard agreed, pinching a nipple.

"I like you," she cooed,

"I uh," Richard stammered, letting the acrid smoke from his lungs.

"Want to..." she cooed when Brent stubbed out the remnants of the joint.

"Want to what?" Richard asked as she stood.

In answer, she dropped her shorts to the floor. Her hips were bony, she had a few tendrils of carrot orange capping her pubic mound and her backside was nonexistent. She led the two young men into Richard's bedroom.

"Look! Look! A bed that's been made!" Linda said as if truly amazed.

"Fuck you; God! Got to be such a bitch about everything?" Brent snarled, shoving the girl toward the bed.

She got onto the bed on her hands and knees. Brent knee walked behind Linda and unzipped his pants. After a moment's hesitation, Richard wiggled out of his tee shirt and shorts.

He did not smirk at the sight of Brent's small cock. Richard did notice that the young man simply unzipped his pants, spat on Linda's anus and shoved his cock into her ass.

Linda smiled up at Richard, then smiled wider at the sight of his thick manhood. She gripped him in her small hand and stroked Richard's erection.

"Oh, I bet this is going to taste so good," she cooed and licked the mushroom shaped head.

Brent's frenzied movement shoved Linda's face onto Richard's cock. She opened her mouth and managed to swallow more than half of Richard's length.

Richard reached down and fondled Linda's breasts while she sucked on his cock. It was obvious that she enjoyed the act of fellatio and Richard was enjoying receiving an enthusiastic blow job. His last girlfriend, God! Had, hat it really been seven months since the last time he'd been laid? Julie gave what could best be termed a reluctant blow job.

"I, I'm about to," he warned.

"Mm hmm," she enthused, sucking forcefully on his member.

"Fuck!" was the only indication that Brent gave.

"Mm hmm, mm hmm," Linda moaned deep in her throat as Richard spewed into her gulping mouth.

"Still hungry?" Brent asked, returning from Richard's bathroom.

"Always hungry for cock," Linda giggled.

Watching the naked girl performing a blow job on the fully clothed Brent soon had Richard's cock at full mast again. He knee walked around and knelt behind the girl.

Her light brown anus looked raw, slightly stretched. And there was a dribble of semen oozing from her anus, matting in her sparse pubic hair. For some odd reason, the vulgar sight caused Richard's cock to twitch and spurt some of his excitement.

"Mmng!" Linda groaned as Richard's fat knob pushed into her pussy.

"Come on, come on," Brent ordered Linda, matching her bobbing head with forceful thrusts of his hips.

Richard looked up from Linda's violated anus; the sight was causing his semen to bubble up. Looking past Brent's unhappy face, Richard noticed a slight smudge on the wall. He wondered how long that smudge had been there. He had never noticed that smudge before.

"Fuck! Come on, suck it!" Brent demanded.

"MMNG< I OH< AUGH!" Linda cried out in climax. "Oh! Oh fuck! God damn it Brent! Jesus really?"

"Fuck. Who's the one took her mouth off of it?" Brent defended as his cock continued to spurt onto her face.

Brent did not apologize to Linda. He knee walked backward off of the bed, zipped his jeans then left the bedroom. A moment later, the door of Richard's apartment slammed shut.

"I, where, where you want it?" Richard groaned, close to ejaculation.

"My pussy," she groaned, close to a second climax. "Oh! Oh fuck, fuck yeah, that, that's good, so good, so good."

Richard came to, a nude body wedged against him. The overhead light was still on so Richard had to hold his hand over the digital display of his alarm clock.

"Fuck!" he grunted, seeing that it was twelve minutes after seven.

She was not in a good mood when Richard roused her. She sluggishly dressed in tank top and shorts then spent a few minutes trying to locate some errant flip flops.

"Look, they're not in here, they're not in the bedroom, where else could they be?" Richard demanded; he was already a few minutes late for Bus No. 12.

"Oh! Oh, bet I didn't have them on," Linda conceded as she left the apartment.

It was a slow day in the Housewares Department of Cosgrove's Department Store. Richard was grateful; his hangover was unrelenting. All it would have taken was one unreasonable customer for Richard to snap.

"You're not a big time writer just yet," he smirked to himself as he finally clocked out, bringing a long day to a close.

Once more, the mailbox held nothing good for him. Richard trudged up the steps toward the third floor landing, just hoping for a peaceful end to a taxing day.

"God damned fucking asshole kicked me out. Believe that?" Richard heard as he moved to open the door to the third floor hallway.

Turning, he saw Linda sitting on the first step that lead up to the fourth floor of the five story building. Next to her was a white garbage bag that obviously held her clothes.

"You believe that? Over what we done," Linda said, dragging the garbage bag to where Richard stood.

She giggled as she recounted the pretty nice shiner she'd given Brent. She was also pretty sure he would have a fat lip for a few days; she balled up her fist and demonstrated the beautiful right hook she'd delivered to Brent's stupid face.

He fed her some homemade hamburgers; the meat was dangerously close to spoiling and the bread was slightly stale. She cleaned the kitchen while Richard sat and stared at his computer screen.

"But hey, before I left?" Linda said, producing a small plastic bag from her purse.

"Hmm? Oh, oh good," Richard said, not knowing what else to say as she expertly rolled a joint.

"Yeah, asshole wasn't looking and I snagged it," she giggled, lighting the joint.

"You ever do anal? I, damn, I just love anal," Linda said, stubbing out the joint. "Really? Love it all; I was just made for fucking, you know?"

Richard was not sure if it was for Brent's benefit; the bedroom of Apartment 3D butted up against the bedroom for Apartment 3C, but Linda was very vocal while he slid his greased cock into her willing anus. He was sure her shriek of climax was real; Richard felt the spray of her climax on his thighs as he pounded her bony ass with a vengeance.

This time he remembered to set his alarm clock. In the morning, against his better judgement, Richard left the cranky girl in his apartment while he hustled to catch the first of the two buses that would take him to Cosgrove's. The weight of his laptop dug into his shoulder and as he ran, the padded bag slapped against his hip repeatedly.

Arriving home, Richard's already very bad mood skyrocketed. There were clothes wadded up on his couch; men's clothes. There was the sounds of animalistic fucking coming from his bedroom.

Entering his bedroom, he saw Linda straddling one young man's hips while noisily slurping on a second young man's cock. Richard was sure he could win a fight with either young man but was certain that he would lose quite badly against two of them.

"Hi Baby!" Linda giggled happily, pulling her mouth from the second man's cock. "Saved the best hole for you."

Richard wanted to slap that happy smile from her face. He actually felt his hands clench into fists; he could envision punching the red head. He could imagine punching her, then punching both of the men in their genitals until they slunk out of his apartment.

How, how dare they come into his space, his sanctuary, uninvited? Richard stripped out of that day's sodden suit, knee walked to where Linda was kneeling, bouncing on one cock while sucking on a second cock.

He spat onto her anus; that was all the lubrication he would afford her. Then he pushed against her resisting anus.

"Mm, augh, I, oh augh!" Linda groaned as Richard gained entry into her rectum.

He thrust forcefully into her, trying to hurt her. He was not gentle as he pounded her anus with punishing blows.

"God, God damn yes! Aw yes!" Linda screamed in climax.

"God damned fucking bitch; you're not supposed be enjoying this!" Richard wanted to scream as he pumped his semen into her bowels.

"Now? Now I can have that ass?" the young man that had been in her mouth whined.

Richard did not ask their names as they fucked Linda. He did not ask their names, or how they might have met Linda as he fucked Linda's mouth while the other two took turns with her anus and her pussy.

In the morning, he roused Linda. She was unhappy as he took the filthy bedspread and stained sheets from the bed. He stopped her from lying her nude, unwashed body on the bare mattress, telling her to lie on the couch instead.

As he did his laundry, Richard still seethed with rage against the red headed guest in his apartment. She'd offered no explanation of why there were two men in his apartment. She'd not said what their names were, how she knew them, how they'd wound up in his apartment, in his bed.

Returning to his apartment, Linda was still unwashed, still naked as she smoked a joint. Richard said nothing as he carried his washed, dried and folded laundry to his bedroom.

"Hey, why you didn't wash my clothes?" Linda demanded, tottering into the bedroom.

"Mm? OH, oh I'm sorry," Richard said, looking around and spotting the garbage bag in the corner of the bedroom. "That. Is that all of your clothes?"

"Uh huh. Hurry up and make the bed," Linda demanded. "I'm tired."

Richard grabbed her plastic bag, her purse, and the previously missing flip flops from the corner.

Dropping everything right outside of his door, Richard returned to the bedroom. He saw Linda searching through the laundry basket for the fitted sheet for his bed.

"I, hey! What? What you, Richard!" Linda squawked when he grabbed her about her slim waist.

He managed to restrain her clawing hands when she realized she was being evicted. He had remembered her absolute glee the other afternoon when describing her retaliation against Brent so had watched for this.

He did not anticipate her feet though. He almost dropped her wrists when her foot connected with his testicles.

Managing to wrestle her into the hall, Richard released her, gave her a hard shove, then managed to get back into his apartment. After locking the door, he called 911.

The police cruiser must have been in the neighborhood. The two officers arrived while Linda was still kicking at the door and screaming. Once officer advised her to dress and leave while the second officer spoke with Richard. Richard said he would decline to press assault charges against her if she would just leave and never bother him again.

Closing the door behind the police and a tearful Linda, Richard gingerly sat on the couch. Opening his laptop, he started a Word document and began writing.

He typed in third person narrative, describing the main characters feelings, describing emotions, describing textures, smells, sounds. Several times he had to refer to the computer's insufficient thesaurus for synonyms for 'shame.'

"At first I thought this was just some raunchy porn fantasy," Dee Frankel, his editor commented as she sent back the text for a rewrite. But by day two it was obvious there was some real shame and regret bubbling up."

Althea Ridge was thrilled with '3 Days of Shame' and promised she would work day and night to get the manuscript in front of the right people. Richard wanted to reach through his cell phone to strangle the woman when she asked him what else he had for her.

"Nothing," he thought, smoking a barely potent joint he'd managed to buy from one of the sales associates in the Shoe Department. "God, this is some punk ass shit."

'3 Days of Shame' was picked up by Surefleet Publishers. It was a sleeper, steadily gaining a following. Again, Althea pestered Richard for a follow-up.

"Problem is, I got nothing," Richard confessed to Dee in an email.

"Then write that," she suggested.

'Nothing in Hand' was also in third person narrative. It was simply a cataloguing of masturbation fantasies, working from Linda backward through the years until ending with the one time he accidentally walked in on his plus sized mother as she was stepping out from the shower.

"Oh you sick, twisted little man," Dee wrote, followed by a smiling emoji. "I have a feeling this will either sell very well, or will wind up in some college professor's Psychology classroom."

'Nothing in Hand' was twice as successful as '3 Days of Same' until someone noticed that the two books were written by the same author. Then '3 Days of Shame also began a second climb in rank.

Richard would never get rich from his books. He would never be able to tell Cosgrove's Department Store to kiss his naturally pasty white ass.

But the revenue from his writing did improve the quality of the beer he bought; Gratchley's gave him a sour stomach. He was able to buy better marijuana; he liked St. Genevieve whenever the local pot shop had it on hand.

"And can take my suits to the cleaners," Richard thought as he wiped his sweating forehead with the sleeve of his suit jacket.

Opening the door of the apartment building, Richard saw two people standing at the mailbox kiosk in the lobby. The air was very warm in the lobby and Richard again mopped his sweating forehead.

Linda turned and their eyes locked. Next to her, the cute, cubby girl that had just moved into Apartment 4C fumbled with the key. The cute girl turned and smiled at Richard.

"Be out of your way in just a minute," she assured Richard. "Key's stuck."

Richard could see Linda's eyes silently begging with him, begging him not to expose her to her latest victim. Richard assured the red head with a nod of his head and she visibly relaxed.

"Just have to make sure the key's straight up and down," Richard smiled to the neighbor.

"Oh! Oh my God! The next book is standing right in front of me," Richard realized, almost laughing. "'The screams of passionate fear.' Psychotic red strikes again..."

The End

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**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you for reading my stories. Likewise, I thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my works, those that 'Favorite' my words.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day