1930's: A Sex Story
"Flappers used to be flappin' on my dick."
Chapter 1
by 
MapleholicsAnonymous
Man, when you close your eyes, you can still remember the taste of being rich. You used to be the shit, to have moxie. Simply put, no other man in the 20s had more of a presence in New York high society than you, the one and only John Doe.
Your father was born from a poor working-class family, of making it big as a theatre actor. As for your mother, she was...well, rich.
And hot.
She was rich and hot.
Because of a clause in my narrating contract however, I am legally obligated to also mention that she was a strong and independent woman. But that's neither here nor there. Because you see, their love was forbidden. Her parents would never let her marry someone who wasn't at least two times as rich and two times as old as her. So they did the only sensible thing; they stole all the money they could from her parents and ran away to America. Swell.
After living it up for a few years, they had you. Born into high society, all you knew growing up, was ease, except maybe for that brief period of time where all the men were being sent to war, but you were only 14 back then so you were big chilling. As you grew up, you learned to enjoy the pleasures of the wealthy life. The food, the houses, the slightly better chance of not dying from the Spanish flu, the women and the speakeasies, my goodness, you can't even begin to explain how great they were. When a bunch of rich people get drunk, let's just say that things can get wild.
But if everything was going so well, then what happened? The depression, the depression happened. You had always been a gambling man, and since your parents had passed early and the estate was left to you, you did what a gambling man does best, play the stock market. Well, when the crash happened you lost it all. You had to sell your properties and since you owed multiple debts and people were looking to collect them, you were left broke, homeless and a shadow of the man you once were. But fuck that, you refuse to go out like this. You may have been forgotten by those who still live in relative ease, and became just another jobless citizen on the streets, but you swear that one day everyone will be buzzing again about John Doe.