I remember getting the call from Robin in the late afternoon.
I was 27 years old, a single mom, living alone with my son in Las Vegas.
I was working my usual shift at the spa and just happened to be in the back room between appointments when I heard my phone buzzing.
My caller ID said it was Redbeard.
Redbeard was my high school sweetheart. Long before my obsession with Donut, was Redbeard. He was the first man I had ever loved. He was 6′ 5″, Hazel eyes, a natural red head (more of the auburn type than a ginger) and a personality no one could ever match. He was radiant, dynamic and fearless.
Redbeard and I had this special connection, the kind where we would finish each others sentences, the kind where just a “look” or one word and we had the whole idea of what the other one was thinking.
He was also the first man to give me an orgasm. Redbeard is in my top three of the best sex I have ever had. I spent years obsessing and on-again-off-again dating Redbeard. I even aborted his baby. We called it quits for good when we were 22 but we managed to stay close friends.
I was happy to hear from him, he hadn’t texted me back in days. I was wondering what was going on with him!
He was supposed to have come by the Friday night prior but cancelled last minute because he didn’t have a ride. I told him I could pick him up but that I couldn’t drive him home because we were planning on drinking (parenthood had made me more responsible). I suggested he stay the night. He declined saying he had plans later on he couldn’t miss.
I answered the phone expecting to hear his bubbly, boyish voice on the line. I didn’t, instead it was his sister, Robin.
“Hello!” I said expecting my dear friend.
“Hey, *****? It’s Robin. Are you sitting down right now? Cause if not you probably should.”
So I sat down.
What the fuck did Redbeard do now? Ugh! Was he in jail? I bet he needed money. I was always helping him out, after all I loved the guy, but he never helped himself.
“He better be fucking dead!”, I thought to myself.
“Redbeard is dead.” Robin continued.
My heart shattered.
Flash forward: The following week I was attending a funeral service for Redbeard when I noticed a tall, nerdy boy with bad, acne scars acting dorky in a group of his peers.
Curious, I approached him with a cigarette in my mouth and asked him for a light. He lit my cigarette then immediately continued his shenanigans as if I wasn’t there.
I watched him on and off for the remainder of the afternoon. At one point, I even noticed him sitting on a bench with his furry, plumber crack showing. He was wearing a black t-shirt that was obviously too short for his too tall frame and jeans. He had on a pair of vans and had a skinny goatee hiding some of the scars on his skin. His hair was long on top, shaved on the sides and died purple.
I honestly can not tell you what it was, but I had the major hots for this dweeb!
Thats right!
My pulse was racing! I may even have been drooling, just a little.
So, that night, I did what any lonely, drunk slut does on the eve of the funeral of her ex, highschool sweetheart. I drank wine alone and went on Redbeards, “myspace” friends list to find my geek.
I found him!
Morthos!
There he was, acne scarred in all his glory.
I sent him a message. He immediately responded. Turns out Morthos remembered lighting my cigarette and he lived down the street from me.
What luck?
Within an hour Morthos was knocking on my door.
I fed Morthos wine. We talked, we laughed, I faked some charm. Then I took Morthos into my room, pushed him on my bed and starting sticking my dried out, redwine stained tongue down Morthos throat while dry humping him.
I tried taking off his pants.
He wouldn’t let me!
Morthos refused to give me his warlock!
That’s when it happened!
I CAME!!!
Morthos’ magical powers released a “big O” from my loins without even a wave from his magical wand!
Morthos came back the next night and unleashed upon me some of the most ravaging sex I had EVER HAD.
Morthos is definitely in my top three of the best sex ever.
If it’s one thing I have learned about exceptionally tall me, unlike one would expect, they do NOT have huge weenies. In my experience, if the guy is freakishly tall, let’s say anywhere over 6’3″, it’s gonna be average or less. Morthos was just about average but it didn’t matter!
Morthos lorded over my ocean!
This guy could make me cum with a look.
My newest obsession was born!
I would think about Morthos at work and get wet. I would think about him in the car and get wet. We would send dirty texts back and forth constantly.
Meow!
Morthos worked a late schedule. Usually, I would leave my door unlocked and go to sleep around ten pm. Morthos would come by after his shift at work, around one am and wake me up.
We would passionately make out while having hours of the most amazing, firework exploding sex.
Morthos was only 23, he could go 2, 3, 4 rounds sometimes. It was the type of sex that the minute he would enter me, we would have to stop moving or we would both explode with pleasure.
We gave each other back rubs, baths, he would wash my hair in the shower. I would burn candles and play sexy, mixed CD’s I created for each special night.
Then we would pass out, Morthos making sure to have me tight in his arms. We would wake up in the morning and do it all over again.
Only one thing was wrong.
Morthos wouldn’t hang out with me in public. Morthos wouldn’t introduce me to his friends and after a while Morthos was coming by less and less. The more he resisted the more obsessed I became.
One night he suggested “holding onto” my spare key so I could lock the door at night. I thought this was a brilliant idea! My crazy, desperate self thought this meant he was ready for the next step so I asked him to move in.
That’s When it happened.
Morthos never came back.
I called him and confessed my undying love to him a little while later. He told me he didn’t feel the same way.
One day when I was at work he left the key under my door mat.
A little while after that I met Beans.
Flash forward: Five years later.
A few months ago, when I was in the middle of the unleashing of Donut’s bisexual, emotional torture, I got an email from Morthos.
He told me he had loved me after all, he was just confused at the time and going through life changes. I was still the best sex he had ever had. He wanted to see me now. I should come out that following weekend.
I declined.
I hate Dungeons and Dragons almost as much as I hate Kia’s!
It's not my fault. 
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