Page 14 of The Fed Sex Man

“I did. I don’t now.”

My fear of being shot was replaced by a fascination with Tyson’s bold attitude regarding law enforcement officials. “So, you did at one point, but you don’t anymore?”

“That’s right.” He gave me a serious look. “I learned the hard way.”

“The hard way?” My eyes narrowed. “Were you wrongfully accused, or something?”

“Something,” he snapped back.

The tone of his response let me know I was headed down the wrong path. I promptly changed directions.

“Why do you carry a gun?”

“Because, in this state almost everyone carries a gun. The few who don’t are at a clear disadvantage when faced by those who do. Personally, I prefer to have the upper hand.”

“You’ve got a permit to carry it, though? Right?”

“I do.”

He was a handsome older man armed with a big dick, a pistol, and a vast understanding of law. One he learned the hard way. Tyson was becoming sexier by the minute.

I wanted to know more but knew better than to inundate him with questions. Small talk in the restaurant would be better received. I relaxed in the comfort of the car’s plush leather interior, thinking of what I might ask during dinner. If I talked more than I ate, I might make it through the meal without spewing chunks of fish out my nostrils.

The car came to a stop, jolting me from my dreamlike state. I looked up. A hand-written sign – one that appeared to have been crafted with crayons by a mildly artistic child – was taped to the restaurant’s window. It announced the night’s special.

All-you-can-eat crayfish $13.99

“Oh, wow.” He shut off the car. “They’ve got all you can eat crayfish tonight.”

The taste of bile crept up the back of my tongue. I swallowed heavily. “They sure do.”

Giddy with excitement, he looked right at me. “Are you ready to do this?”

I wasn’t, nor would I ever be.

Nonetheless, I nodded. “I can’t wait.”

I reached for my door handle. My future with Tyson would be determined in the restaurant. Inside Rockfish we’d tell stories of our careers, somehow manage to introduce sex into the conversation, and eventually leave with the promise of bumping uglies as soon as we reached his bachelor pad.

I sharpened my blank stare. Seated just inside the restaurant, a man was elbow-deep into what appeared to be a bottomless bowl of bright red sea-spiders. Methodically, he plucked the creatures from the bowl, broke them in half, and shoved their mutilated bodies into his mouth.

Mesmerized, I stared at the repulsive sight.

After witnessing him gobble down two fistfuls of the vile creatures in a split-second, I barfed into my mouth just a little bit.

Excited to talk to Tyson, but not-so-excited to be amongst crayfish starved Texans, I stepped out of the car and paused. Eager to get started on the all-you-can-eat shellfish-fest, Tyson peered over the top of the car and grinned. I tried to smile in return, but the mouthful of pre-vomit substance I was trying to swallow prevented it.

Having him realize the state of my digestive system would undoubtedly put an end to our night together. I shifted my eyes toward the restaurant. The sign’s cartoon crayfish figures taunted me to come inside. Beside the sign, mister elbows-deep ate crustaceans at a record-setting pace.

I barfed in my mouth again.

The day, in its entirety, proved to be too much. Having Tyson pick me up. Angry police officers. A date with a handsome stranger. The anticipation of sex. Speeding down a major roadway at breakneck speeds. A hidden gun. The glass of wine I drank to calm my nerves. A police roadblock. The second glass of wine I drank in hope of gaining courage. The sight of an all-you-can-eat crayfish lover eating all he could eat.

Everything began to spin.

I closed my eyes.

You can do this. He’s handsome, older, and has a big dick. You can do this. He’s handsome, older, and has a big dick. You can do this…

I opened my eyes.

“Are you okay?” Tyson asked.

I wasn’t.

I shook my head.

Tyson’s face washed with worry. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t tell him. I showed him. By vomiting. This time, however, it wasn’t into the back of my mouth.