by Mia Ford
Once I’m finished, I yank myself off of her and I peel the condom off. She spins around to face me with a slightly disappointed look on her face, but that falls away as soon as I drop to my knees in front of her and I toss her skirt over my head. Her glistening slit is waiting for me, and since she’s already so turned on from the fucking it doesn’t take much encouragement for her knees to fall apart.
“Oh fuck, Liam,” she gasps as my mouth finds her swollen clit. “Oh shit.”
She lifts up a leg and presses one foot against the wall which allows me even more access to her pulsating pussy. I use the opportunity to slide a couple of fingers into her too, massaging and exploring her insides as she writhes and bucks above me, the orgasm already building.
Eventually I hear footsteps, people are finally coming into the bathroom. These might be the people who just happen to be stumbling by or the security that me and Anita fear. Either way, we need to be so much quicker. I don’t care if I’m thrown out of here, I’ve been banned from places before, but I don’t want to get Anita in trouble just because she’s having some fun. Clearly, she needs to blow off some steam as well, she doesn’t deserve to be punished for that.
Luckily, just before I really begin to worry, Anita’s grip on my hair becomes so tight I know what’s happening. She stifles a moan, struggling to keep all her pleasure inside as she shudders violently into my mouth. It hurts, but not in a bad way, and to be honest I’m glad. We’ve both had our fun now. Now we can both leave this bar fully sated.
As I pull my mouth off of her, Anita gives me a cheeky wink. “I’ll leave first,” she whispers. “You come out when it’s silent. I’ll be waiting for you at the bar.”
I know this move, I’ve used it a hundred times. She won’t be at the bar waiting for me, she’ll have moved on already, but that’s alright by me. I might head to another bar anyway, or maybe I’ll even go back to my apartment to sleep this hangover off before it becomes unbearable. I used to be able to recover from a Friday night of drinking right away the following morning, but now it takes me a couple of days. I suppose that’s just a sign of getting older. Something I can’t do anything about. I’ll have to rest all Saturday, get my chores done Sunday, then back to routine from Monday.
“Yep, okay. See you in a bit,” I reply, not giving up the rouse. “And just for the record, that was absolutely awesome.”
Anita squeezes my hand for just a moment and give me a happy nod. “Yes, it was. See you soon.”
With that, the flash of red hair is gone from my life just as quickly as it came in. As she goes I feel a little bit hollow and I don’t know why. I love my life, this is what I do, I don’t know why I’d suddenly feel all strange about that.
Urgh, I need to go home. This is just madness.
Chapter Two – Prudence
I hop from foot to foot feeling uncomfortable as I wait outside Mr. Banker’s office for yet another Monday morning therapist appointment. I know I should be more comfortable in this building now, it’s been my home for almost five years, but I don’t think I’ll ever feel fully at home here. It’ll never really be my family, I guess that’s something I’ll never have, and I’m always aware of that. I’m simply Prudence Evans, the girl that no one will ever want.
I was brought into this strange new world of the child help center on my thirteenth birthday after my father lost his temper so badly that I ended up in the hospital. Of course, being here is better than that, I wouldn’t ever want to put myself in the firing line of danger again, but it still isn’t home.
I haven’t had a home since my mother died when I was eight years old. She got Cancer, which of course I didn’t fully understand at the time. I just knew that she wasn’t well and she was in the hospital a lot, but it didn’t register that she was going to be gone forever. I don’t think I even really got it when my dad told me that she was going to Heaven and I wouldn’t see her again. That’s too much for any young child to drink in… but at the time I was glad that I had him. My mother might have been gone, but I wasn’t alone because I had my dad in my life. I felt like I was lucky.
Before he started drinking, he was the best dad in the world, but I suppose the grief got too much for him. He couldn’t handle it so he turned to booze. The alcohol changed him completely, he became a shell of his former self. He could no longer parent me, or even be a human. He couldn’t keep his temper in check, and what started off as yelling quickly became physical abuse.
I knew it was wrong, right away I could tell that him hitting me wasn’t great. That’s why I spent so much time hiding it from the odd friend I had at school, the teachers, any other adults that I came into contact with. I probably should’ve told someone sooner, to protect myself, but I was so scared of being alone. Since Dad was all I had, I didn’t know there was another way to live.
Until four days before my thirteenth birthday when he punched me so hard my nose broke and he had no choice but to take me to the hospital. The pain was agonizing, I haven’t ever felt anything like it. I honestly thought that I was going to die. I thought my own dad had killed me…
And then, to make it a million times worse, the life that I’d always known was ripped away from me and I was brought here. To the child help center, where I have a warm bed, food in my stomach at every single meal, safe adults to talk to all the time. It’s so much better, but I’m still not comfortable. I’m still hyper aware that I’m still very much on my own.
These therapy sessions are useful in a way, they’ve helped me to get over some of my issues and now I understand myself and my life so much better, but I still don’t really like them. I guess I’ve spent a long old time fearing men after the way that my father treated me, and being alone in a one on one session with Mr. Banker is hard. He’s a very nice man and always incredibly gentle in his treatment towards me, he’s probably the person that I get on best within this whole place and I include the other children in that, but still I get nervous before I see him.
My heart thumps painfully in my chest, I’m a little shaky in my seat, my brain flies at a million miles an hour. I do wish I had some friends here to talk to but I’ve always kept myself isolated from everyone else. I guess some of the other kids tried to make friends with me in the beginning, but I was so freaked out about the uprooting of my life that I didn’t want to speak with anyone. I never had many friends anyway, only one or two in school, so it didn’t feel like that much of an issue.
Actually, the only time I’m really worried about it is now, and that’s because my eighteenth birthday is looming. Officially I’ll be an adult then, I’ll be allowed to go out into the world on my own. Sometimes I really want that, I cannot wait to escape this madness, but other times the idea of leaving my safety blanket and going out into something new and scary terrifies the living crap out of me. I know that I’ve been sheltered from a lot of real life and I don’t know how I’ll take it when I’m completely flooded by it all. Maybe it’ll be exciting, but maybe it’ll be horrifying. I don’t know.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the door to Mr. Banker’s office swings open, which drags me kicking and screaming from my internal panicked thoughts, and reminds me why I’m here.
“Hey there, Pru.” I love the way he always calls me by my little nickname that he created for me when I first arrived here. He doesn’t do that with any of the other kids as far as I’m aware which makes me feel special. “How are you today? Are you ready to come in and talk to me?”
No, my brain screams. I don’t want to go anywhere with you! I want to be safe.
But I don’t vocalize any of those thoughts because I know that’s just silly, irrational fears. Mr. Banker is a good man. He won’t ever hurt me. He hasn’t hurt me in five years so he won’t now.
“Yes.” I stand up and brush my skirt down. “I’m ready to come in.”
Mr. Banker rubs a hand through his dark hair and he gives me a crinkly eyed smile. I do enjoy his green, warm eyes, they’re so inviting and it makes tal
king so much easier. As he extends an arm into his room his muscles bulge under his suit jacket. I never noticed it when I was only young, but the older I get the more I can see that he’s a very handsome man. He must have women throwing themselves at him all the damn time. I wish I could ask him, to learn more about him, but this isn’t a two-way street. Our chats are always all about me, it’s my safe space to talk about my emotions.
I take my usual seat, tucking my knee length, pleated skirt underneath my butt as I sit. My high neck vest covers me right up and I have a small shrug on that covers the parts of my arms that would have been on show. I see a lot of fashion magazines with models dressed in skimpy, revealing clothes, but I don’t know how that would ever suit me. I don’t know what my body is really like, I haven’t experienced enough of the real world to know. Maybe when I’m out of here, I’ll learn.
“So, Pru, how have things been? I know it’s only been a few days since I last saw you, but it feels like forever, doesn’t it?” He smiles at me, warming my heart, but at the moment the nerves are still circling through me. “What’s been going on? Did anything happen over the weekend?”
“N… no,” I stammer as a heat fills my cheeks. I know I’ll get into the swing of talking eventually, but it takes me a little while. “Nothing happened, it was boring. I just read.”
“Did you read anything nice? Are you still reading Little Women?”
This is how it always is with Mr. Banker. He’s so interested in everything I say. It’s nice to have someone who likes to listen and remembers everything I say, but sometimes it reminds me of how boring I really am. I don’t do anything, I just keep myself to myself.
“No, I finished that one.” I’m okay when I’m talking about stuff that I like, it brings out a slightly more confident version of myself. I think that’s why we always start with discussing literature. It eases me in. “I started reading Wuthering Heights again though on Saturday.”
He smiles to himself and I know what he’s thinking. He’s probably wondering why I’m so obsessed with novels with a lot of romance in them when it’s something I don’t have any experience in, but for me that’s the reason. I want to know everything about it, I want some knowledge. I even found an erotic romance once that I started to read to give me some more information on that area, but I found it too scary. I had to stop. I still have the book, but I don’t know when I’ll get to it.
“I see, well that’s wonderful news. I know how much you love that one. Are you enjoying it again?” He peers intensely at me, waiting for my response. “Or are you bored now?”
“No, no, I like it.” I nod slowly. “It’s always amazing. That’s why I always read it.”
Mr. Banker pauses for a moment and he taps the pen on the edge of his clipboard while he thinks. I don’t think he ever bothers to write notes about me anymore, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t done in a very long time. I think it’s all for show now. He just wants to remain the professional at all times.
“You can talk about the real stuff if you want to,” I tell him while kicking my feet idly along the floor. I can’t look at Mr. Banker as I say these words because it makes me so uncomfortable, but we can’t just do the small talk thing. It’s a waste of time if we do. “I don’t mind.”
“What do you want to talk about?” he asks me curiously. “Is there anything specific that’s troubling you? Do you want to talk about the past again, or are you more concerned with the future right now? I’m here for you so I’m happy to talk about whatever you want.”
I snap my eyes up at him in shock, usually he’s very controlling of the direction he wants the talk to go in which is fine by me. I think I need that. I need someone to push me when it gets really hard or I’ll just go quiet. I wonder why he’s doing this for me now?
Maybe it’s because I’m leaving soon and he’s giving me a little bit of a chance to blossom. It’s terrifying to be in the driver’s seat, I don’t know what to do with the control. Do I want to hash over things with my father and his violence again before I’m set free and I can’t talk about it again? Do I want to talk about how scared I am that he’ll be out of prison eventually and I might have to face him, or do I want to talk about what’s coming next?
“I… I don’t know,” I confess as I wring my fingers together. “I don’t know what I want to talk about really, there’s just so much.” Mr. Banker doesn’t pressure me, he sits silently while he waits for me to work things out myself. I sift through my brain, trying to work out what’s troubling me right now. There are so many things, so many worries, so much trouble, but there is one thing that’s worse. “I guess I’d like to discuss the future and how I’m going to deal with that.”
Chapter Three – Logan
Seeing Pru is always a little strange, but today more than ever and I’m not totally sure why. I guess because her time at the center is coming to an end and it’s making me feel nostalgic. The girl who she was when she first came here nearly five years ago is nothing compared to who she is now. She was shy, quiet, afraid, nothing more than a little girl. Now, she’s slowly blossoming into a beautiful young woman. As her curves and womanlier figure have come in, so has some confidence. I’m sure she doesn’t see it that way herself but I see real progress.
She flicks a strand of her very pale blonde over her shoulder and she lets it dangle down her back. Until very recently her hair was incredibly long, but more recently she had it chopped into a bob style and it makes her look so much older. It brings out her bright, sparkling blue eyes and her high cheekbones. I part my lips to tell her that but I stop myself at the last moment. That’s probably not the best thing to say. I don’t ever have to reel myself in with anyone but Pru.
“It’s going to be strange when you’ve gone,” I say instead. “It’ll be quieter.”
“Quieter?” She giggles and leans forward, flashing her teeth at me. It always takes her a little while to relax but once she doesn’t take long to relax and when she does she’s a whole lot of fun. “But I’m the quietest person here. It’ll be quieter when Leah leaves. She’s so loud.”
“Urgh, tell me about it.” I roll my eyes dramatically. “It’ll be dead silent when she’s gone, but I still think I’m going to miss you so much more. Losing you will lose a presence, you know?”
She blushes brightly but doesn’t reply. I suppose she doesn’t know what to say to that, which is fair enough. It wasn’t the most sensible thing to say. It could easily be misconstrued.
“I don’t know about that. I think I’m going to miss this place more than it misses me.”
I pause thoughtfully and watch her expression change. I know this is going to be hard for her, I’m more aware than most how challenging the big wide world will be, but it’s something she’s going to have to face eventually. I don’t think putting her off and making her wait will help. She doesn’t have to leave the center until she’s eighteen, she could probably stay until she was twenty-one years old if she wants to, but I don’t think it’ll be helpful. The sooner Pru gets out of this bubble and she experiences the big wide world, the better. She needs to get adjusted.
Actually, I do think she’s ready too. I think she can do it, she just needs confidence.
“We will all miss you,” I insist. “But you can always come back and visit. The doors will always be open for you. You don’t have to leave and never come back, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” she sighs sadly. “I do know that, but at the same time it’s a bit scary.”
“Oh of course it is.” Her hand dangles over the edge of the chair and I want to take it to comfort her, but I don’t. “You haven’t been out of this place much in the last five years, during which time you’ve grown and changed dramatically. Of course, it’s going to be scary, but exciting too, right?”
She shrugs and purses out her lips. “I don’t know, I suppose so.”
I’m so used to spending time with the girl now, I think during our time shared in this room I’ve built up a bigger connectio
n with her than I have done with any of the others because she needed so much work, and also because she’s been one of the most willing to try out things I’ve asked her to do so. Because of all that I’m not really ready for her to leave, but since this isn’t about me at all, I need to do what I can to help her. I wish I could do something to make this transition easier.
“What are you most afraid of?” I ask her curiously. “Is there something specific troubling you?”
Her shoulders ball up around her ears which is a sign that she’s uncomfortable. I hate making her feel that way when she’s so shy as it is, but sometimes I don’t have a choice. I need to push her out of her shell to get something real from her. Her emotions are hard to penetrate.
“I don’t know, all of it.” She peers up at me under her eyelashes. “Getting an apartment, living alone, having a job and paying for stuff, doing normal things, then people too.”
Ah, I can sense that we’re getting into the root of the problem here! Of course it’s people, she doesn’t do too well with others. She’s so closed off that it might put people off of her. They might not see her as someone worth their time and effort to get to know.
“Friends?” I ask while pretending to write something down. “Is that what you mean?”