Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Just call me Jonathon: Your worst relationship EVER

            Just call me Jonathon: Your worst relationship EVER.


Just call me Jonathon. I am a 42 yr old white male from ***** Florida. I was born and raised in Wisconsin. My family moved to Florida the summer I turned 14. I was an only child. We were considered upper class and I wanted for nothing. When I was in high school, my folks got me first Porsche 911. It was black and I hated black, so they had it painted cobalt blue with white racing stripes. They did this for my 16th birthday, they felt so sorry for me after uprooting me from my childhood friends. And yeah, I played that to the hilt. I laugh looking back considering how my grades sucked my first year in high school.

As I said, I wanted for nothing. I had the best clothes, best shoes, money, killer parties and everything I ever asked for. I had everything except some sense of love.

Mom was fairly busy doing the social things that aided dads job. The pool parties she threw had the finest wines, booze and appetizers you could imagine. She’d have the help dole out those gross Russian fish eggs that I seriously think most people hate but eat just not to offend the hostess. I’d always wait to watch as the maid would hand them out and watch the eaters faces when she turned her back, great fun seeing their faces twist. Mom was busy alright. I’d see her get royally shitfaced as she instructed the help to keep the guests glasses full and their stomachs well attended. Man, she’d even have the help aid women in getting on their bikinis when they got too wasted to do it for themselves. Drinking and swimming, not the coolest thing in the world, but hey, there were plenty of doctors around to fix them when they almost drown.

People would laugh when such events occurred, ‘guess ya can’t hold your lick-her, can-ja?’ they’d slur.

When mom wasn’t busy with the bi-weekly drink, eat and pool fests, she attened local fundraisers, lady’s groups and pissload of other things. She was even a major supporter for homeless shelters and AA events. She also spent a great deal of time with dads friends/partners wives watching their weight and a fierce diet regimen. They get together about 3-4 times a week to work on the Pablo Escobar diet of coke abuse. Who cares? That’s how they maintained their girlish figures just to keep their hubbys in check.

Dad, well, he was busy making the long-green. He was a major player in the world of ***********. He made friends everywhere he went. Doctors, lawyers, mayors, architects, fashion designers and their models, golfers, you name it. He’d hook them into deals by being a msooth talker. He’d hook them up with whatever they wanted. Be it drugs, hookers or financing for houses, buildings with unique designs, you name it, he’d get it for them with complete discretion and a guaranty that their wives would never know anything.

Mom and dad made the perfect pair. They’d keep both sides happy. So many times I would hear them say shit like, ‘if we ever decided to blackmail them, they could retire with the millions we could screw them for!”

Shit, man, Rome paled in comparison to the shit I witnessed growing up. Caligula might have even blushed.

Mom and dad had integrity, so they’d never do such a thing.

I had no such integrity. I knew there would come a time when millions could come in awfully handy to me, so I kept a journal with names, pictures and copies of the ‘other books’ that aren’t to seen by authorities.

I was so bored. I wanted better grades than I was getting, knowing college would depend on it, I decided to see how many women I could get in bed in the space of a year.

By 18, I had nailed and blackmailed 10 teachers, 2 assistant principals and the janitors girlfriend who was a major babe! Sure, I knew she couldn’t help me much with grades, but her husband did have the password to the schools computer system. I laugh at how cheap she worked. For the meager sum of 5000 bucks and a few good romps, she got me what I needed. Fuck it, I was simply helping her leave the drunk.

All it took was a few simple extortions when I discovered the teachers fuckbuddies, pics of them leaving motels together, not to mention how they nailed a minor for a few grand.

Yeah, okay, you probably think I could’ve gotten hookers for the sex stuff. I may not have a great deal of my folks integrity, but there is no thrill in screwing a hooker. I like to watch ordinary women twist to my will. I relish watching the looks on their weak, unsuspecting faces when I plant them at ground zero of Hiroshima. I get off on it.

I finished high school with close to a 4-point-oh! The suck-ups I called friends asked me how I did it, seeing me never turn in homework, finish a test or doing anything remotely considered an extracurricular activity. Sorry, fuckwads, I did plenty of extracurricular sex-ed jazz (or jizz, if you will) to get me through just fine. One of the nailed even got knocked up. May not have been mine though.

I even convinced some of them to get checked out by a doc as I seem to be having a discharge issue coming from my cock. I layed the blame on them, and they always caved in. Hey, I got what I wanted, so they could fuck their husbands for nothing or go fuck themselves. I didn’t care which. They got money and a few/many discrete lays with a well endowed, and oh so forbidden, teen. Sadly, they never saw the camcorders.

Fuck or be fucked, whichever you decided. Am I right or what?

At the college level, I decided to change my approach a bit. Being so bored with simple extortion tricks that worked without fail, I’d suck in big time sorority chicks. They’d see me with a Porsche, money and of great/wealthy family stock. (christ how their parents would tell them that crap. They have no idea how much that helped me fuck with their daughters,) I would take them to the best restaurants, best resorts, to further have them fall into my net. Mind you, I never paid for those things as my dad had huge influence.

Then I’d tell them of some tragedy which my family had just had fall on them. My family was hurting and needed help. If someone could just help, my parents would be so generous when things turned around. These girls would do my bidding and prime their parents. They, too, were of affluence and breeding that they would be glad to help. They would also never embarrass one of their own social status with a handout. They’d give to their daughters and their daughters would help me.

So easily, these girls fell for the illusion and take their parents with them.

Come the semesters end, I’d switch schools and go after another in pretty much the same way.

The ones I left behind and their parents never pursue me. They would not face the thought of being taken in as they knew it would make them look like the fools they were. These poor idiots just sucked it and wrote it off.

I did this for my 8 years of college. I took in about 800 large (grand). Not bad for a part time job, eh?

Having enough money to coast me til my parents kicked, I lived the great life. Simply making women think I loved them. I used them for sex like the teenager I never was. Damn, I had it better than a porn star. All it took me was my second Porsche, a 944 time around as a college graduation present, flash some cash at some fuckin highbrow coffee shop with never ending jazz and new age crap playing. Having a half-million buck house didn’t hurt. Ma and pa helped with this house. Dad made it happen, no sweat. He designed such a great home for me. Mom stood firm on one point though: you have one of your women help you decorate it and help you pick out furniture.

When asked, these women of low intelligence and materialistic visions for more then they deserve, would always go to my house and after fucking them would suggest going to pricey furniture stores to teach this ‘poor boy’ in the art of interior decorating. I took such delight in watching them suggest massive hand carved mahogany California king bed. ‘a man like you really needs this! Oh so comfy. Imagine what I could do with you on this…”

Occasionally, being totally bored after being laid by them, I’d split their faces in two with: DUH! I just got blown, had you ride me like some whore going for twenty versus the ten promised, and you took me in your ass. What more could you ‘imagine’ you could do for me?

The women that lasted the longest with me were the ones that suggested kitchen furniture, chests, dining room sets or patio furniture. I cannot say enough for those few that for the ones that aided in landscaping ideas and grills with fireplaces adjacent.

I took more time with the ones that weren’t so eager to bed me. The so few that took actual time to help me lay patio block that was important to them than laying me.

I am currently engaged to a fellow psychopath. There is no lying between us as we can read each other to perfection. Like me, she is very rich, both from dead parents and what gifts we received from others idiocy and their parents bullheaded sense in never admitting they were taken in.

Rebecca is my sun and moon as I am to her.

We happened upon each other at a Star Wars convention in 2010 in New York. I wanted a scotch and soda as she wanted a Jack on the rocks. Fucking sorry how convention halls have such a bad selection of TopShelf booze. “Chivas Regal? Is that a chardonnay or a merlot?” Cunt, what soup kitchen did they hire you from for less than minimum wage?

We, like the animals that we are, were stalking others to eat for a lite snack to pass the time when it happened. When our eyes locked to each other just a few stools apart, we knew our lives were forever changed. We smelled an ‘us’ through our eyes, sensing no fear, stomach full without eating, by a simple glance turned inferno. Being in heat, mating, joining and using, were the furthest things from our combined minds. Meeting one of equality, truly virgin ground that merited a depth of exploration.

We left our stools and slowly, carefully walking toward each other, both sizing the other up. As we met, her and I , appearing totally strange to those around us as they watched, inhaled deeply, taking in the others smell. Scents those in audience could no more smell than that of a tiger or ram smell in one another’s breed. Seeking a worthy mate and cautiously moving toward same. I thought she could devour me as she said she sensed the same from me. We faced each other, senses wide the fuck open and on overload. We talked without opening our mouths. We gently placed our heads on the others shoulder. Apprehensions of having our throats bitten to shreds fading quickly over minutes. Sniffing, feeling each others blood flow from veins within reach, taking in each other in without fear of the others teeth.

We left the convention and started our life together.

We have a loyalty that only instinct can have in the animal world. The lion to a lioness, both equal and utterly incomplete without one another after their joining. A joining of an identical breed before copulation occurs.

It’s been two glorious years with Rebecca. Content with each other and no longer wishing for more from the other breed we have consumed over time. Sure, we still get a kick out of making people in bars fall like dominos by setting a table that drunken fools wish to eat from. “Whoa, man, that chick is giving you the eye, you should go for her.” Soon the boyfriend that left for the john or somewhere pops up and the fun begins.

C’mon, some things cannot be denied those like her and I.

So, boys and girls, was I right in saying I was or could be your worst relationship ever? There are many like myself and Rebecca. Our species can eat you so easily that it gets boring after a time.

After two years, Rebecca and I have not copulated. We’re saving ourselves for each for something we never knew existed. We one of our kind.

-Just call me Jonathon. 04/01/2012


Mark, we will let you know when the wedding is. Most likely this summer. Not sure if we’re going Wiccan or something else. We both think it would be great if you could attend. Rebecca says she’ll email you her story in due time.

As you asked in an email response to me: I found your site from psychology today online.

I give you a ton of credit with this. You must have the only site about NVP’s out there.

We both would like to thank you.




AN: I’d love to attend! I’ve never been to Florida before and I’m sure you’d get me some great resort to crash in. Hell, I’ve never even been on a jet before. It could be great fun!

Thanks for your words/thoughts and your story.