Life Ain't A Fairy Tale Read online

  Life Ain't A Fairy Tale

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Life Ain't A Fairy Tale

  By: Miguel Rivera

  Copyright 2012 Miguel Rivera

  Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  Thank you for purchasing this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to please purchase their own copy at Smashwords.com. Thank you for your support.

  Chapter 1

  I don't understand the popularity of erotic novels. I have read a few erotic novels before. In my biased opinion, I can write a better erotic novel than the ones I have read. I admit it is difficult not being repetitive when you describe the same sexual act multiple times. Finding a good storyline people will enjoy is impossible. No matter how hard I work, there is a higher chance of failing rather than succeeding. This is not limited to writing literature. Whether it is trying to win Spelling Bees or becoming valedictorian, I always fell short.

  Despite what society tells you, love doesn't exist. Love is a word that gives meaning to a romantic relationship. This word helps couples stay together. In reality, love is a fantasy. You can't be in love with the same person forever. Asking a mortal person for an eternal feeling is ludicrous. That is impossible because the state of infatuation is short.

  Many people describe romantic instances where a man risks his life for a woman. Guys have run into burning buildings to save the gals they care about. Husbands save their wives' lives when they jumped in front of bullets. I don't deny isolated acts of love happen, but that heroic husband will be unfaithful to his wife if the opportunity presents itself. The man will be demonized as the worst husband despite what he previously did. It only takes one personal flaw or one mistake to destroy love. Ultimately, friendship makes a relationship last, not love.

  People say I am a random person. They are correct. I ponder about erotic novels and love while hanging out with my friends. The problem is I get bored of listening to topics I don't care about. Some people perceive my randomness as a weird personality trait. I disagree. Usually, people bring up topics I have a hard time relating to. My randomness helps me get into my friends' conversation.

  Because of my shyness, I have few friends. I don't blame people for not being friends with me. If I were in their shoes, I would do the exact same thing. I am a shy person who rarely takes the initiative to begin friendships. As a result, I am stuck with three friends I am at the bar with. These friendships were made through my parents knowing their parents. They are annoying and a little immature for me, but I haven't made more friends throughout my life. Never had I the desire to be a part of society and make friends. My parents' pressure to socialize is the main reason I am with them today. From a very young age, I chose TV and video games over my friends.

  During my college years, I had many new temporary friends. When the semester ended, I never heard from my new friends again. I really liked a few college men and women whom I made friendships with. Unfortunately, I learned early that most college students did not have the intention of keeping the new friends they made in college. The reason is because they already have their social cliques. They don't need more friends; I am okay with that. Now, the only contact I have with them is as online social network friends who never return my messages.

  Even though I find these three friends annoying, I can't get rid of them. There are no other friends to replace them with. Two of them are married, Luis and Juan. Luis decided to bring along his wife today. The third one is Justin; he is single and a playboy.

  Often, I question women's judgment in the guys they like, but the girls attracted to Justin make sense to me. He looks good and loves to work out. He has one of those professional wrestling bodies. He is an African American with a nice crew cut. Justin's face isn't good looking, but it's not ugly either. Many ladies love Justin; he doesn't even try. They don't care about his playboy reputation; it is an asset.

  Luis, a friend who thinks I am gay, was a playboy like Justin, but he married quickly 4 years ago. He is Venezuelan, tall, blond, skinny, funny, and a laid back guy. He obsesses with proving I am gay. During my teenage years, this guy constantly flirted with me. To be honest, I didn't know what he expected. Maybe, he was only teasing me. Luis's Peruvian wife, Angela, is perfect for him. This wild and crazy couple spends their time flirting with each other.

  Angela works as a model. Although she is not famous worldwide, she has her fair share of photo shoots and makes good money. According to the mainstream media, she has the perfect body shape. She has long brown hair, blue eyes, a winning smile, and a thin hourglass body. She is not my type of woman because I find models too skinny. I prefer women of normal weight whose collarbone doesn't show underneath her skin.

  Juan, a reformed school bully, married Maria. He is a muscular half-Honduran and half-Caucasian with spiky brown hair. In his teenage years, Juan bullied his peers around. His behavior caused animosity in my friendship circle when Juan, Luis, and Justin played video games together. He was so undisciplined that his parents could not control his misbehavior. After being sent to boot camp in Texas and coming back to Jersey as a young adult, he toned down his aggressiveness. The military did a good job straightening him out. His marriage to Maria is dysfunctional.

  It boggles my mind how Maria married this guy. She must have low expectations in life. I wish my future girlfriend would have low expectations, too. She is a freckled-face and blue-eyed Colombian whose short blond hair barely touches her shoulders. Her body type is straight and very well formed. During a party before their marriage, Juan pulled her by the hair and shoved her around when they argued. This happened in his backyard. A girl, who still marries this guy, lacks self-esteem.

  I am not always part of guys' night out because I am not so wild and crazy. The guys rarely hang out at the bar. Often, they go to strip clubs and invite me, but I don't like to go there because I dislike being seen with a horny face. It makes me uncomfortable. I do not understand how a group of guys can sit together and shamelessly express their sexual desires at a woman stripping. Lucky for Luis, Angela likes to join the guys.

  On other occasions, they encouraged me to pick up a girl at the club, but I declined their proposals. Getting a girlfriend in the club is not serious. My dream is a woman who likes me in a sober state. Today, I join them because they are hanging out at the bar playing pool.

  "You should drink an ounce of beer." Luis insists as he waves a beer can in my face.

  "No, I don't like drinking." I push the beer can away from me.

  "That's why you have never gotten laid. You need to fucking loosen up." Justin says this as he plays pool against Juan.

  "What is the point of having sex if you are too drunk to remember you did it? I like to remember everything I do." I defend myself.

  "I'm feeling pretty big right about now." Juan brags as he competes with Justin in pool.

  "Also fat and huge, too. Johnny boy." Justin adds.

  "Yerp, that too. I am having a hard time walking around with this big cat in my pants. I got a large gift for any slut." Juan looks at a blonde girl in a miniskirt drinking nearby.

  "That makes sense since today is opposite day because normally you are really small and tiny." Justin makes a hand gesture showing small
size.

  "What? Hell no. You are so fucking tiny, I need a magnifying glass to see it." Juan challenges. Juan clenches his fist to slam the pool table when he discovers Justin beat won the round of pool.

  "Isn't your wife going to get mad about you cheating on her?" I ask.

  "Nah, she loves me; she knows I am the man of the house. She doesn't give a shit." Juan punches his chest with pride.

  "Jimbo, you are the only guy I know that brags about being a fucking virgin." Luis refers to me.

  "First of all, I don't think the words, virgin and f-wording, belong in the same sentence. Don't hate. It's not my fault you are jealous that I have no STD problems or pregnant women." I brag.

  "That's what condoms are for." Justin explains as he shakes his head in disapproval for bragging about being a virgin.

  "They are only 90% efficient. That's not good for me. What if it rips? I can become that 10% of inefficiency?"

  "What is fucking wrong with you? Are you gay?" Justin asks.

  "Nope, I think it is pointless to have many girlfriends if you don't really like them."

  "Who says I don't like the girls I have sex with? Why are you questioning me like that? My feelings are hurt, you piece of crap. I really, really...really like their booties a lot. They like my milkshake. I feel like a free supplier of milkshake." Justin receives high fives and cheers from everyone, even Angela.

  "That's gross, I don't like anyone eating my seeds." I am disgusted.

  "Fine. How about having some mad pussy for breakfast? Or are you going to say no to that, too?" Luis asks.

  "No, that's the ugliest part of a woman's anatomy, gross." In reality, I don't care about oral sex, but my personal opinion is there are better looking places of a woman's body.

  "You need to get drunk for real." Justin says.

  "Never ever. No drinking. No booty call. No oral sex. No nothing. I like to have sex the normal way."

  "If you don't eat pussy, you will never have a wife." Angela jokes.

  "I don't care."

  "Really? You've never had a girlfriend?" Angela asks skeptically.

  "No, this guy doesn't want to be helped. He says any kind of help is "cheating." He wants to die alone, gagging on his own saliva." Luis answers for me.

  "If that is the way it has to go down, that is the way it is going to go down. I am not a sexaholic like you guys. I don't get horny with every pretty girl that passes by like the three of you."

  "Excuse us? Forgive us for being real men, ooh. Don't you know it is rude to say no to everything?" Everybody laughs at what Luis says.

  "Hell yeah. I want to be spanked baby, yeah!" Juan laughs. He bends over and spanks himself.

  "Harder baby, harder. Don't stop; don't stop. Don't let my heart attack stop you from going." Justin says.

  "Don't worry. Don't stop. My wife doesn't care, hee hee." Luis bites his finger. Angela smacks his head.

  "I was kidding Angie." Luis excuses himself. She smacks him again.

  "What now?" Luis asks. She pinches him.

  "Okay, you are just pissing me off." Luis says. They both start pinching each other playfully.

  The majority of times we hang out, our conversations don't go in this direction. Every once in a while, the guys tease me for being a virgin.

  This is why I advise uptight parents who don't like teaching sex education to their children to talk about sex. Your kids will be part of these conversations. There are always other kids who know a lot about sex. It's better for you as a parent to do it than have your child learn myths from their friends. I hit puberty when I was 10 years old. My penis stood up for no reason. The sex conversation is unavoidable. My friends already were talking about sex when they were 12 years old.

  Ignoring how much I belittle my friends, they are kind of fun to hang around with. Our conversations revolved most often around basketball. That is their favorite sport. My favorite sport is soccer, but I watch basketball too. We talk about basketball as I continue losing at the pool table. I'm really bad at it. I only play to join them along. I missed the good old days when we played video games together. The guys enjoy playing pool and drinking beer; they are really good at both. Even Angela beat me at pool.

  Back at home, I think about never having a girlfriend for 27 years. I hate socializing. The only reason I even socialize is to have the chance of living with a beautiful woman. I want to kiss and hug them, but they never let me. I truly hate asking women out because I always failed. Although I know love is a fantasy, I want to have a woman to keep me company when I get old.

  In the past, I openly told my feelings to the girls I liked. It is not their fault they reject me. Since I don't believe in love, I didn't play the game most boys play to trick the girls into thinking they love them. I always wanted a girl to like me the way I am, not some phony bad boy prototype. I always took the approach of telling them directly that I loved them. However, to get a girlfriend, you can't be so open in expressing your feelings because that's not the right way when you have no charisma. The women got scared and rejected my love declaration. What was the point of the women's rights movement, if women continue to behave the same way they did before the movement? I wish they asked me out for a change.

  I saw how my friends got their dates drunk in the club, but I refuse to use that strategy. To me, that is cheating. More importantly, I find it foolish to have my first relationship begin with random drunk sex the first night. I don't want that. In fact, I have never become interested in any woman at first sight. My infatuations are delayed. It takes at least three months of seeing a woman before I develop amorous feelings.

  How did I end up with a date tomorrow night? For once, I wasn't myself and played the love game: no romance, no compliments, and no mushiness of any kind. I pretended to be overly self-confident and sure of myself. The ladies love that superficial crap in a guy. Tired of being rejected so much, I gave them the ideal man according to society. Being humble like myself was never going to work. I did not even say the word "date" when I spoke with her.

  Previously, I had two consecutive semesters of Anatomy & Physiology classes with her during my last college year. I earned my Bachelor's Degree in Biology. We got along very well as lab partners. I missed the time we spent together studying. I hoped to continue my association with her after college, but I was too shy to ask her phone number. I will never forget her.

  Sara earned a Bachelor's Degree and a Master's Degree in Biotechnology that helped her land a job in the pharmaceutical industry. She is working at a pharmaceutical company, Biopharm, for the last two years. She uses analytical techniques called HPLC-MS/MS to isolate and identify the major components of the medications being made for cancer treatment. This is important because you want to make sure the active ingredient of the medicine does not form radical intermediates that can be toxic to the cancer patients.

  On my end, stress forced me to stop my education at a Bachelor's Degree in Biology. I almost couldn't finish my last semester because spontaneous panic attacks were making it difficult to attend classes. My first panic attack happened while doing a Powerpoint Presentation in class about cancer. I thought I was going to faint during the presentation, but I was too embarrassed to say anything. When I went to the primary doctor, I was prescribed anti-anxiety medicine. The medication didn't make me feel well. Studying less for the final exams helped me finish all the classes.

  After the semester ended, a Psychiatrist prescribed me anti-depression medicine in order to become a normal person without panic attacks again. The anti-anxiety medicine did not relax me as much because my body grew tolerance to it. The anti-depression medicine did the trick for me.

  Currently, I work as a college tutor. My job as a part time Algebra and Biology tutor is not even close in importance to her job. It serves my needs and helps pay the bills. I am a very low maintenance fellow who feels a sense of pride for helping out students understand the class material.

  After almost 5 years of not seeing her, I invited her to
a restaurant through a visual online social network chat. She is Mexican like me with black hair like mine. I added her to my friends' list not too long ago on the online social network. I discovered her birthday on her social network profile. From my past chats with her on the web, she is now doing research on new experimental medicines to treat cancers arising from AEG-1 gene over expression.

  When the visual chat began on the PC, I invited her to a restaurant. When she asked why, I simply said, "To celebrate your birthday."

  "Jimmy, my birthday passed months ago."

  "Well, it's not my fault I didn't know. I have to give you my birthday present as soon as possible. Going out to eat is your birthday present."

  "No. You don't have to do that."

  "What? Are you saying I'm not worthy enough to give you a present? Miss Queen of Spain, your royal highness." I feigned outrage.

  "No, wait...no, no, no. Hold on one sec." She answered nervously and apologetically. Her face showed concern.

  "Yes, you should be sorry... but I...forgive you...if you let me give you a present, damn it."

  "Okay, okay...oh my god, you crazy sometimes..." she gave me a jokingly suspicious stare.

  "I hate driving, too. As you may remember, I waited for my father to pick me up after classes?" It was about me admitting my faults, but preserving my self-confidence. Women like that crap in a man. It pained me to act the way society expects.

  "Wow, you still don't drive." Her facial expression showed disappointment.

  "Nope." My stance was firm. I showed no weakness at her disappointment. I sat up straight looking into the camera of my monitor with poise and pride.

  "Fine. You are going to pay the whole bill at the restaurant. Right?"

  "Of course. It's your birthday, Sara."

  "Okay. Text me where to pick you up tomorrow."

  "Sure, I will Sara."

  Sara's brown eyes captivate me as well as other things. Despite my complaints of superficiality in society, I am also a little superficial. Not only are her brown eyes enchanting, but also her smile and her long black hair to the waist. Everything else about her is not important to me. The fact that she is one inch taller than me, has radiant light-tan skin, has a straight body type with healthy body mass, and has well formed thighs are irrelevant to me. The important thing is that she is a college graduate like me.