Ronnie Smith and the Phone Call
	His name is Jack Nedney, my best friend, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for him. He has been my friend since I was eight years old, bailing my ass out more times than I care to count. We have been working together as business partners for the past eight years, struggling in the beginning until hard work eventually paid off in enough accounts to get us both established. We have done everything together, even found similar old ladies at around the same time, both of us dumb enough to marry them. I can honestly say that if Jack had a decent pair of tits, I’d fuck him in a heartbeat.      At the moment though, Jack is a fucking pain in the ass. All I hear is this constant bitching about how sorry his wife is. She’s a terrible cunt of a woman, the bitch is so unmotivated she can’t even find the time to keep up the house. The kids run around shirtless with shit all over their faces, looking like a bunch of milk carton candidates.      “I just can’t deal with her anymore, Ronnie,” he says.      “Damn, have you even tried talking to her about it, Jack?”      “Aw, you can’t talk to that bitch! She gets up in your face and storms off.”      “Maybe you should see one of those marriage counselors.”      “What! See one of those damn quacks? Shit, Ronnie! Those motherfuckers will charge you hundreds of dollars only to advise that you get a divorce.”      On and on it goes.  You can’t tell this hardheaded asshole anything. I have been hearing this for the past two months.  Ten hours each day and time just can’t go by fast enough on this fine Friday. Coming home today feels like being released on a pardon. I walk in the house, kiss the old lady on the cheek, ignore all the rambling shit she is saying on how her day went and go directly to the basement. I have a fridge there, stocked with cold beer for these kinds of days. I open one and become hypnotized as it spews a little of that glorious foam through the top of the can.      I drink it so fast that the sides of the can are caving in, turn on the stereo, Lynyrd Skynyrd wide fucking open. I skim through a stack of fuck books I keep next to the fridge, find the nastiest one and walk directly to the shitter I have in the corner of the basement. Look through the pages and find this nasty slut near the back of the book, trying to shove a banana in her twat and masturbate over her. Her tits are covered with tattoos and she looks exactly like those sluts serving hash browns at the local diner. Turning the page you can see this old girl peeling and eating this same banana that has been stewing in her cooch during the photo shoot. Thoughts racing through my mind of banging the top of her skull through a headboard of a hotel bed, easing the tension of a very annoying day. I cum all over the inside of this magazine, all over her face and that damn banana, and throw the magazine in the trash as it has served its purpose for me.      I drink a few more beers to the point that the music is feeling tranquil. I’m lost in an unwinding of the conscious, total relaxation that is rudely interrupted by the knocking of my basement door.      “What?” I ask.      “Ronnie, you have a phone call. It’s Jack wanting to talk to you.”      “Shit! Okay honey, hand the phone through the door.”      Jack is just a-bitching on the other end of the phone. The old lady is gone from the house, it looks like a damn pig sty, on and on it goes.      “What are you going to do, Jack?” I ask.      “I’m going to Mayford’s and get drunk. Come with me, Ronnie!”      “I can’t, Jack, the old lady has this shit she’s been nagging about. I have been putting it off for weeks.  I got to get it done buddy.”      “Bullshit! C’mon, let’s go chase some tail like old times.”      “I’m serious, Jack.  I have got to do this. You go ahead and if you need a ride home you better call.”      I didn’t feel like hearing this sober much less drunk. I hand the phone back to the old lady and she looks excited.      “You’re going to fix the garbage disposal finally?”      “Why, hell no! I just told him that to get him off the phone. Now, get your little ass back up the stairs so I can relax!”      I hear the old lady cuss me while walking up the stairs. I crank the stereo up louder and continue to suck more beer down. I tinker around the basement at various projects I have down there. I clean up the place, sifting through boxes of stuff I collected from yard sales and flea markets, pounding beers until night sets in, minding my own business as a buzz settles in my brain and gets my juices flowing. The old lady bangs on the door again, telling me she is off to her sister’s house, dinner’s is in the oven if I want any.      “All right, you tell that sister of yours to kiss my fucking ass!” I say.      “Ronnie, you shouldn’t say bad things about her.”      “Well, I know if your going over there, she will bad mouth me. Fuck her!”      I can hear the old lady cuss me even more going up the basement stairs. After she leaves it hits me that it’s time for some fornication. I pick up the phone and call this girl up I got from one of these singles’ ads from this jerk mag. I have been talking to her for the past few days, getting her to play with herself while I masturbate on the other end. She picks up and I begin sweet talking her.      “What’s up, baby?”      “Nothing, how are you doing?”      “Good, is your old man around?”      “No, he’s gone somewhere. I missed you terribly.”      “Did you get what I told you too?”      “Yes, I did. It’s big, baby. My husband would kill me if he knew I had this.”      “No, he wouldn’t. You want it bad, don’t you?”      I can hear her voice drop to a whisper. I continue telling her how much I want to be there and fuck the piss out of her. I can hear her breath heavy from masturbating as I describe in detail what I have planned for her. I can hear her moan for a stiff cock and beg me to fuck her so hard.      “You ready for it, baby?”      “Yes, so much. My clit is so swollen, I can barely take it anymore!”      “You got that thing I told you to buy?”      “Yes, it’s in my hand.”      “Shove that big bastard in, honey, ride that motherfucker.”      I can hear her groan as she inserts it inside her twat, the rhythm in her voice coinciding as she pushes it in and out. She is screaming loudly at me, telling me how bad she wishes this was my cock. She is rocking faster and faster until I can hear her voice go into quick gasps. She is obviously cumming and I am so aroused that I begin jerking myself off. I am about to get my nut as she is still riding, calling out loud, “Fuck me, fuck me.” I suddenly hear in the background of our conversation a loud bang. It sounds as if a door has been kicked in, and I can hear a man’s voice on the other end and he is pissed.      “What the fuck are you doing bitch?”      “Nothing, baby.”      “Bullshit, let me have this damn phone! Who’s this? I can hear you breathing, prick! If I find out who you are, you’re fucking dead!”      I just stay silent as I can hear him slap the piss out of her. He is yelling insults to her as she is crying on the other end. I hear him pick up the phone again to shout at me.      “You little pervert. You want to fuck my wife? You like to listen to her scream a little. Well, you’re in for a treat!”      I can hear him grab her and she screams out as if he is inflicting a sharp pain to her. I just listen as he screams to her violently while the receiver end of the phone is lying beside them.      “You like this baby. You like this better than my cock? Oh, you’re getting it now, bitch! You like that, huh! You like that, you miserable fucking slut!”      “Yes, baby, I do, fuck me harder with it!”      The husband is ramming that dildo I told that girl to buy inside of her. I can hear her scream in ecstasy as he is routing her pussy out in an evil way. I can hear him get off on it and throw that dildo away and fuck the shit out of her. I think about hanging around on the other end and masturbate along with them but think better of it and hang up the phone.      I can hear the old lady coming in from her trip to her sister’s. I walk upstairs and grab a bite to eat as she goes to bed, then I decide to fix the garbage disposal to surprise her. I watch a little of the late night television and get horny as two bitches are fighting each other in this shitty B-flick movie. I turn it off and nestle up to the old lady, wake her up and roll her over. Have my way with her until she is left sucking her thumb in a deep slumber next to me. I screw in a Marlboro Menthol and laugh to myself. I’m such a god damn prick, aren’t I?      It’s Monday morning and I hook up with my friend Jack. He looks haggard and worn slap out from his weekend.      “How goes it, Jack?”      “Good. You wouldn’t believe my weekend, Ronnie. I come stumbling from Mayford’s and that bitch wife of mine is sitting on this huge dildo with a phone in her hand.”      “Really?”      “Hell, yeah. I beat her ass and fucked the shit out of her with it!”      “Damn!”      “Damn right I did! She loved it and we fucked all damn weekend. I’m telling you, Ronnie, we worked this shit out and I think we are going to be all right.”      “That’s good, Jack. Who was on the phone with her?”      “Some horny asshole. I don’t know, but if I find out, I’ll kill him.”      We laugh at the moment as both of our days are looking better. Jack Nedney is my best friend, and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for him.