by Kristine Jenkins
(8/18/99)

I wish abortion was legal in 1971. Most likely I wouldn't be alive. My name is Ogdee and I was named after Ogden, Utah, the town in which I was conceived. I fit my name perfectly, I have my mother's short and pudgy looks, with a very unattractive face. I have my father's brains, though, before he lost them to a mean heroin habit.

I also wish that it is illegal to have sex while intoxicated or stoned. Then I really wouldn't be here. I was conceived while my parents were on a drunken road trip addicted to heroin.

I work in a factory assembling washing machine motors. Not a glamorous job. I have to distract people from my looks, so I have to work extra hard, and go the extra mile. In my career I have worked my way up from the assembly line to a line foreman, the only woman that has ever held such a position. I would like to someday get an office promotion, but those jobs are reserved for "pretty" girls and not women of my vanity. I do okay, I made enough money to finally buy a house.

When I leave work, that's when the hurt begins. Everyone else goes home to happy houses with spouses, children or parents inside. I go home to my Internet buddies and my cat Joe. A far cry from living, breathing humans. But those few I chat with are a great bunch of friends. I can't wait to get home and see what "Moose," "Frannie," and "TheKid" are up to. I haven't any idea where these people are from or what their real names are, but they are there for me twenty-four-seven to listen to my most heartfelt secrets and offer advice to me.

It's great that we have such modern technology. Over the Internet, I bought a rubber dildo so I can pleasure myself. I ordered it on a very lonely, rainy Sunday. By Tuesday I was pleasuring myself with my makeshift sex partner, shipped to me FedEx in a plain brown wrapper. I even named it Hank after my first rather awkward and my only male sexual partner.

We had met in college. He was a 22 year old still with metal on his teeth. I think he asked me out because I was more pitiful looking than he was and he feared rejection. We had gone over to his parent's house and Hank invited me up to his room to "show me something." I was so horny and game for anything, so I figured this might be my only chance to have sex for a long time. On the way over to his parents house I had stopped and bought a package of condoms "just in case."

"Ogdee, I think I'm in love with you," he said as he kissed me and tried to run his tongue past his braces and into my mouth.

I was so, so hot and ready for his inexperienced cock.

"Hank, fuck me." I whispered in his ear. I stripped off my jeans and moist panties.

I looked in his eyes and his pupils were dancing with joy and anticipation.

My first sex act was over very quickly. He mounted me and entered my waiting wetness and hastily stretched his prophylactic to the limit with fervent posteen come. He rolled over and heaved a heavy sigh of relief. I got up and dressed, then I left for my dorm disappointed. So much for my first sexual encounter. I thought I might feel something. I felt nothing.

Then that brings me to my next sexual encounter.

One Christmas party, right after I was promoted to my supervisor position, I was invited to the office party. Boy, did I look out of place mixed in with all of the Revlon and Fabergé patrons. Patti, the office drunken nympho had gotten more drunk than she usually does and everyone voted me Patti's designated friend. So I got to drive her home. But fuck this, I told myself, Patti is so drunk I will drive her home in the morning. I'll get the last laugh when she wakes up at my house in the morning. When I got her home, she was all over me, playing with my ample tits and fingering my clit through my pants. Patti was hungry for sex of any kind.

"Have you ever had sex with a woman?" she panted.

"No, just one awkward, unfulfilled fuck from a selfish male."

"Oh you poor thing. Let Patti pleasure you."

Patti reached down and kissed me. I was not ready for female affection such as hers. I shivered and my skin crawled. She unbuttoned my pants and slid a finger down inside and found my clit. At first I didn't really like it, but after a while, of experienced fingering, her finger began to feel good. She pulled off my pants the rest of the way and moved her head down and pressed her tongue against by erect nub. This was starting to feel great. Her tongue was busy going in and out of my now wet hole. I moaned in delight. What I really wanted was a penis in me, but this felt good. She slid two fingers down inside me and her tongue found the mound her fingers were playing with before. I was rocking to her fingers moving in and out of my wetness when I felt my first orgasm flowing up my spine. Suddenly, all of her attention stopped. I picked up my head and there was Patti, passed out with her nose almost up my ass. I reached down and with my own fingers, finished the job she had started. The next morning Patti was gone and she avoided me at work for almost a full year. I don't think she was embarrassed about having sex with a female co-worker, she was embarrassed about having sex with me, the mutt of the factory!

That's it for my two sexual encounters. With the holidays coming around I felt frustrated. Everyone had somewhere or someone to share the days with. I usually sat and typed to my friends on my computer.

I cheated my soul into thinking I was happy. "I'm all set for this year. I have Mr. Coffee, Joe, my cat, Hank, my dildo, and all my modem friends."

I started writing poetry. Before their deaths, my stoned out parents were always telling me to get in touch with my creative side. Right! Poetry from a fat ugly girl. How cliché. But the weekend after Christmas I was feeling especially lonely. After a good sex session with Hank, I got to thinking. Why am I so great at work? I can solve other's problems and fix machines, but I can't get a life? I wrote this poem:

LADDER

I hang on a rung

from a high ladder

wanting to fall

into ecstasy.

I lose my grip.

I fall and fall

into a sea.

I'm drowning in recognition.

I don't understand the poem myself, but it felt good writing it and getting my feelings out on paper. I figured I hadn't anything to lose, so I sent it to an online poetry magazine. They Published it in their February issue. My head felt pretty big afterwards, but I didn't tell anyone. Even though I used the pseudonym Pamela Demming, I felt a little apprehensive because under the poem was my email address, posted there for critiques and accolades. I don't quite know what I was afraid of, but I didn't want my co-workers or my chat buddies to know.

One day while I was enjoying the fresh air of spring, I was ready to sit down with my buddies, Moose, and TheKid on the computer; Ben and Jerry from the freezer; and later Hank. I was fighting off a wicked case of spring fever and I noticed I had an e-mail message from someone new. It read simply:

"Pamela, I read your poem and it touched me deeply write back if you want, Ray S."

I had forgotten all about my poem on the Internet. I wrote back the usual generic greeting:

"Ray, thanks for reading my poem, love always, Pamela."

Which was followed by,

"Pam, where can I find some more of your poems? Your poem changed my life. Your friend Ray."

I wrote back that was my only poem and I will try to write him another.

"Who is this moron. Stay away from him. He's what they call an Internet loser. He lives his whole life on the computer and if he finds out who you are he will kill you," said Moose. Moose was always warning us of the bad people in the world.

Still, Ray mystified me. The next day he wrote,

"Pam, I'm going to come clean from the start. I'm 52. I've been married four times, and have six kids. I'm looking for a new love that my wife cannot give me. It is a love I realized when I had my first child. It is an unconditional love that runs deep into your soul. I've been searching for this love from a woman all of my life, and I still haven't found it. Your poem touched me in a way that I might have recognition in my life, but I haven't any ecstasy. Thanks for listening, Ray."

I cried when I read this. Here is a guy with more than enough people around him and he is still lonely. I wrote back to him and confessed that my name wasn't Pamela, and told him about my own miserable life. It was a few days before he wrote back to me. In those few days, I felt like an idiot. I poured my heart out to a stranger. For all I know, he could be someone I work with, playing a practical joke on the fat ugly girl. But his reply came and he even sent me an attachment of pictures of him and his kids. He wasn't anything like I pictured him. He was average in every way, grayish, blond hair and kind of cute. His current wife was in one picture with him and I imagined her working in an office somewhere, making fun of the ugly girls out on the factory floor. That night while making love to Hank, I imagined that the rubber cock was Ray's flesh.

We wrote to each other every day. I soon forgot about my small chat group, and I think, along the line somewhere, fell in love with Ray.

One Friday night he called my house.

"Hello, Ogdee. This is Ray." His voice was candy to my hungry, aching ears.

"Ray?"

"Ogdee, I have to meet you face to face, can we do it this weekend? My curiosity about you is overpowering me. I can't concentrate on anything. I've got to meet and touch you.

Ray lived three hours away from me. We agreed to meet the next day at a truck stop about half way between our cities. It was against my better judgment to meet him. If he found out what I looked like he would be gone for good. He was also a married man and twice my age. After I hung up the phone I mumbled, "I love you Ray." The only living thing to hear me was Joe. Funny, I swear that cat looked up and gave me a supportive smile.

The next morning found me piloting my dark green Ford Escort wagon down the highway towards our meeting place. A few times I almost turned around and headed back. I looked down at the scrap of paper that I had written the directions down on:

Get off exit 26, turn right into parking lot, look for brown van, license plate # EX-1222 and then scare the love of my life off. I ad-libbed the last line.

When I got there, the only vehicles in the parking lot were semi-trucks lined up in a row. My heart dropped. I was the first one here. Where was he? Did he stand me up? Was this a hoax? I waited out in the early chill of Fall with the wind blowing my long stringy hair around my face. I was glad I had chosen to wear my baggy sweats, they served two purposes, they kept me warm and they hid my robust body. Then I saw him pull in to the parking lot, my apprehension made a lump in my throat so big I thought I would suffocate. He pulled his van up next to where I was standing, looked at me and got out. His grayish blond hair ruffled in the wind. He looked sexy.

"Ogdee?"

"Yes, and you are Ray," I mumbled.

"You are beautiful, just as I pictured you."

"Really." I was surprised. "You don't find me fat and unattractive?"

"Shit, if we all looked the same we would all be Jeep salesmen in Scranton, Pennsylvania."

He flashed me a great big boyish smile. Then he laughed. His laugh sent reassuring chills down through my body and made me feel grand. I forgot about being fat and ugly and concentrated on being me. Ray walked over to where I was standing, he took my hand, then his mouth reached out and touched my soul. It was the longest moment of my life, Ray's mouth pressed against mine in a liberating kiss.

"Let's go into the diner and get some coffee," Ray said as he took my hand.

We went inside and by the second refill I decided that I wanted this man more than anything in the world. Ray sat across from me with that big boyish grin on his face. I think he wanted me too.

Finally I couldn't stand the longing anymore.

"Ray, could we go sit in your van."

Ray paid the check and we walked out to his van with our arms around each other and our souls continued to connect. Ray reached over and opened the sliding door to his van.

"Come inside, you look cold."

I crawled inside to meet my fate. Ray's van was one of those half camper and half car type vehicles. Once inside he kissed me again and I felt his tongue find it's second home inside my mouth. I had never been kissed like that before and the feeling of his tongue on mine was better than any pie that I previously put in my mouth.

"In all of these months we have been conversing, I think I fell in love with you Ogdee."

"I love you too, Ray." I answered in a voice that came from some other woman, not myself. We laid down on the furry carpeted floor of his van. I let him pull off my loose fitting sweats and he stared at me for a moment then he pulled off my wet panties and his tongue found a place where only Patti had seen before. I closed my eyes and savored the extreme pleasure of his tongue as he made his way around my wetness until I heard a zipper and a crumpling of his pants on the other side of the van.

He entered me gently. When I felt his hard cock deep down inside my female anatomy, I thought I would burst with orgasmic ecstasy. I laid there and let Ray work his magical cock inside me. I felt a hunger growing deep inside my body for my first non-self-induced orgasm. I was a dripping, soaked sponge and my orgasm was a big strong fist that squeezed me dry. It came quickly and took my mind, body and soul.

"Ray I love you."

He said nothing. He lay there naked with a smile on his face. He didn't look 52. He looked like a teenager that had just had sex for the first time, then he hugged all my life's miseries away.

"Ogdee, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please help me, I would like to come up and live with you. I think I have found the love I have been searching for all of my life. Would you be interested in a loser like me?"

I smiled at him and nodded my head yes.

We didn't waste any time moving Ray in to my house. He found a job in the shipping department at the motor factory where I work. We started riding bicycles and I have started a diet. I have lost some weight and my ass is starting to get a little more shapely. Ray's divorce is final next month. He tells me that this is definitely his last divorce. I believe him. We plan to be married in June. I couldn't be any more happier that I am now. I finally got an office job, I now work with my fellow pretty girls in a nice office.