Super Sucker Love Chump
One of Ramon Pozos, Mr. Pitts, outlandish adventures.
He could not believe what was happening. Every time he was away from her, he wanted her or needed to have her around. Somehow, he thought it was too good to be true. His mind was converted into a mesh of thoughts—different memories of his life with her in a big bag of jubilee.
His mind could not get her out of his head. His thoughts could not get her luscious body out of his dirty mind.
Mr. Pitts thought of this as he drank his coffee on 3rd Street. He looked at women passing by to make an effort to forget about Luna for just a bit. Her dark brown dress fitted tightly around her body always in his mind burning away. Her body was an hourglass that made his mind constantly covet her.
Luna was a bombshell with her little dragon tattoo on her right wrist. She always wore silver earrings to spice up her pale beautiful face. Her blue eyes went well with her dark black hair. Mr. Pitts once tried to get her to admit that she dyes her hair. It never worked. His tricks were futile against her.
He finished his cup and decided to walk to her apartment. He wanted to see her again after just seeing this enticing woman the night before. He had slept with her many times, so he couldn’t understand why he felt compelled to meet her again.
It was a spell. He was on a tractor beam at full power.
Maybe it was because she always let him have his way. Luna always dressed for him—like a little Japanese girl, a hooker, a nun, Wonder Woman, which was the best outfit for her, or whatever he wanted. She always fulfilled his innermost fantasies.
Her Betty Page looks drove him today to her apartment. Mr. Pitts felt a little worried that she might be tired of him.
Once he got there, she was a bit nervous. He couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe she was really tired of him!
“Luna,” he stared at her with his green, hazel-like eyes as he put his bowler hat on the coffee table that was older than he was.
“Luna, what is the matter with you?”
“I just got a call from da’...nothing for you to worry,” Luna replied with her Hispanic accent.
Mr. Pitts wanted to query more on her discomfort, but he smelled a candle that had been put out a few seconds ago. It caught his attention.
He looked over his right shoulder and caught a glimpse, in the antique mirror hanging by the window, of a red, thin curtain covering something. Smoke was coming out of the sides, barely but Mr. Pitts saw.
He turned to his left and saw what he had seen in the reflection. It sat inside an unused closet at the end of the hallway.
“Ay, Ramon please,” said Luna to distract his attention from the smoking closet.
Mr. Pitts walked over concerned that a fire might start. He slid the pretty red curtain and could not believe what he saw. As his right hand held the crimson material, Mr. Pitts stared at a shrine with candles that were recently turned off. The shrine had a statuette of La Santa Muerte in the middle and his picture at the feet of this sinister statuette. It stood about two feet with dead, dehydrated red roses around it.
The smoke from the candles came up with a thick blackness to them.
Mr. Pitts reached back like a pimp with his left hand and destroyed the shrine. Glass from the candle holders splattered on the side of the closet. The statuette of the horrifying icon broke in half as it hit the ground. The head rolled away, making it three broken pieces.
He turned to her as she sat there with a grimace. He started to approach her and she started to smile. He grabbed his cane that was hanging from his right wrist. He started swinging it, cutting the wind with it.
Luna loved it. She suffered a few marks on her back, but it was the best love making he had performed since they met.
Mr. Pitts never came back after their final, violent fuck.