New story, this is my first time doing K2, if you like and want to see more of this story give me reviews.
From the moment I met him, I knew that Kenny was a little different.
No, let me rephrase that.
From the moment I met him, I knew that Kenny was crazy as hell.
My first clue was his T-shirt.
Now, I didn't just fall of the turnip truck, and I have seen more than a few wild outfits in my time. I just have never seen them in the foyer of an exclusive four-star restaurant like the one we were in.
And this was not in some trendy coastal metropolis where people sometimes blasé about this sort of thing. This was in freaking South Park, Colorado for crying out loud.
Now, why someone would wear a t-shirt to a place like that in the first place is cause enough for a valid questioning of the t-shirt wearer's sanity.
But when the t-shirt in question has the words "THINK KINK!" emblazoned in huge bright orange glittery letters on a black background, the matter is no longer about questioning the person's sanity. You can pretty much just hand him his certificate right there on the spot. Just go ahead and call the men in white to come pick him up. He's nuts. There just no two ways about it.
You may of course be wondering exactly how I would find myself in a four star restaurant with someone wearing a "THINK KINK!" t-shirt in the first place, and the answer is likely to bring my own sanity credentials into serious question as well.
We were meeting for the first time after chatting on AOL. He had insisted on meeting me at this four star restaurant.
Not McDonald's. Not Starbucks. A goddamned four star restaurant.
The next question you might now logically ask is why hadn't they thrown him out for wearing that damned shirt?
I later found out the answer to that question. As it turns out, Kenny had shown up at the restaurant in proper attire. Then he had got into the bathroom, changed into the shirt, and then waited in there until I showed up. Wondering where the hell he was, I had called him on his cell phone. Then he made his grand entrance.
Needless to say, we were both immediately thrown out, and probably barred for life.
Not that I would ever try to find out if I was permanently barred for life or not. I'll never show my face in that restaurant again.
Of course, none of this seemed to faze Kenny in the least. He walked up to me in the foyer, ecstatic to see me, and threw his arms around me joyously.
Then he gave me a deep wet messy tongue kiss, complete with loud smooching noises. Right there in the restaurant.
"Let's go somewhere else," he said to me. "I don't think they have any tables for us here tonight."
No shit.
I was really too stunned to be angry, and Kenny didn't give me any time to react. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out to the parking lot.
"You're hot!" he exclaimed. "Let me suck your dick right here in the parking lot!"
"No!" I at least had the presence of mind to say that.
"Please?"
"NO!!!"
"Why not? I'm really good at sucking dick."
I had to explain why not? "We'll be arrested!"
"Oh, that's not so bad," he said.
"Yes, it is!"
"Party pooper!" he said. He seemed sincerely disappointed. He really wanted to suck my dick.
"Let's go somewhere else," I said. I was trying to think fast. I was afraid he'd drop to his knees and rip my pants down, and I really wanted to get a handle on the situation quick.
"Okay," he said. "My car's over here."
I got in the car, and then I immediately had second thoughts. "Maybe we should take separate cars," I said.
But it was too late. He was already on the road and driving fast. I couldn't even jump out of the car at this point.
But I kind of didn't want to jump out, either. This was insane, but it was also kind of fun in a very strange way. I had never been in the presence of someone so completely out of control as this. My heart was racing from fear, humiliation, and mortification. But I was also getting kind of turned on.
No. Let me rephrase that.
I was getting seriously turned on.
