by Mia Ford
She leans forwards to give me a glimpse of her more than ample cleavage which is enough to bring a smile to my face. This is how I like to forget, by burying myself in drink and women. It’s the only release I get from my stressful existence. The fact that this woman wants me is utterly perfect, it saves me from having to go out on the chase myself. I’m too tired for that really.
“Oh, you know, I’m just waiting for someone suitably exciting to grab my attention.” I wave my hand up to grab the attention of the bartender. As soon as he sees me, he’s by my side in an instant, waiting for my order. “And it seems that you’re here, so what would you like to drink?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She perches that sexy ass of hers on the bar stool next to me and flutters her eyelashes flirtily. “A cocktail sounds great please. Whatever you recommend.”
I don’t drink cocktails, I’m a whiskey man myself, so I don’t know what any of them taste like. However, I do know the names of the most popular ones, the ones with the most suggestive names so I go for one of them to amp up the sexual tension that’s already flowing nicely between us both. “Ooh, I don’t know, are you more of a Sex on the Beach girl, or a Slippery Nipple?”
She giggles and squirms which makes me mentally fist bump in the air. An elation that wasn’t there before fills my chest and my extremely challenging week dissolves into nothingness. I’m so glad I can forget, even for a minute. “I think I might fancy a Slippery Nipple right now. Thank you.”
“And I’ll have the same again.” I give the man my glass and turn to face the lady once more. Giving her a bright smile, I ask her my next question. “So, what’s your name then, beautiful?”
“Anita,” she chuckles and shrugs in a false coy manner. “What’s yours?”
“Liam,” I lie, just as I always do to women who I don’t intend to spend any real time with. Keeping the details vague is the safest way. “And what is it that you do for a living?”
“I’m a model, actually.” I can see that, she has the right figure for it. “And you?”
“A lawyer.” There’s no way I’m going to admit to her that I work with children who’ve suffered various levels of abuse. It’s too heavy for a first meeting and it always leads to questions that I simply cannot answer. I find lawyer a good answer because it’s impressive, but too boring to ask too much about. Also, it suggests that I have much more money than I actually do.
“Ah I see. That’s pretty awesome.” She nods slowly and purses her lips out. “That sounds really interesting. You must meet lots of fascinating people on your journey.”
“Oh, not that many as you do. Being a model must be awesome. Tell me about it.”
Anita drones on for a while, keenly telling me all about her escapades as a model so far – that admittedly seem to be mostly about bitchy girls competing with one another – while we drink our drinks. I nod and laugh in all the right places, showing a keen level of interest that isn’t really there. We both know what we really want to do but for a while now, we need to just talk. It’s the socially acceptable thing to do, we both know that. But soon, it’s coming. I know that…
Eventually after two more drinks I can tell that Anita feels happier with her decision to hang out with me tonight. I’m making her laugh, I’m listening to her, we seem to have a few things in common even if they aren’t exactly real, it’s all good. So, when she hops off her stool and she holds out her hand to me, I know that finally it’s about to pay off.
“Do you want to come… into the bathroom with me?” she whispers seductively into my ear, not fucking around. “I would invite you back to mine, but…” She leaves that sentence hanging in the air, and I don’t bother to push her on it. Maybe she has a boyfriend or a husband, or perhaps just a whole range of housemates, either way it doesn’t really matter. This is better for me anyway.
“Yeah sounds good,” I reply eagerly. “Do you want to go first and I follow, or…”
“No, let’s just go together.” Her cheeky grin makes me want to laugh. She’s just wonderful.
I let Anita drag me along into the toilets at the bar. There are a couple of women in there at first, but she doesn’t seem to care. She pounces on me and kisses me hard and fast as if we’re the only two people in the world. It feels weird doing so with people watching us, but they soon freak out more and scatter, which gives me the freedom to lift Anita up until her legs are wrapped around my waist. Then we slam into a cubicle and I lock the door rapidly behind us.
I’m rock hard now, ready for action. I don’t want to be interrupted.
“We better be quick,” Anita hisses at me. “They might get security in here in a moment.”
My trousers are down in a second, my boxers too. My impressive erection makes her eyes open wide with shock and appreciation, and she gasps with happiness. She peels up her skirt and slides her lacy underwear down. She picks it up and balls her panties in her fist before stuffing them into her bag. She truly is ready for me which is exactly what I freaking need.
“Turn around,” I growl while I grip hold of myself. “Press your hands up against the stall wall.”
She does as I ask and peers over her shoulder to watch me as I move closer to her. I barely keep my eyes fixed upon hers as I roll a condom down over me and I tease her entrance. She rolls her ass backwards, pressing herself into me, gasping and groaning as she does. She wants me bad and she isn’t afraid to show me. The fact that she’s so confident in her sexuality makes my heart slam violently against my rib cage. I lick my lips, trying to keep the salivation inside. I’m already so freaking close to the edge of desire, it’s insane. I need this more than this woman knows. This is the kind of exciting release that makes my week so much more worthwhile.
“You are so fucking hot,” I moan as I push into her, filling her up. She feels so good wrapped around me, all tight and wet and excitable for me. “Oh fuck, Annie.”
“Anita.” She rolls her head back and lets her hair spill down her back as pleasure grips her. She clenches which feels absolutely fucking incredible. “My name is Anita.”
I called her by the wrong name on purpose because I need her to know this isn’t ever going to become anything more than tonight, which is probably overkill with Anita. She doesn’t seem like the sort of person who’s going to become a bunny boiler, stalker type. I just have to be sure.
I grip onto her hair and slam into her harder, banging her hips into the bathroom stall as desire consumes me. Judging by the frantic, ragged breaths that fall out of Anita’s mouth, she really fucking likes this which only allows me to continue. I grunt and yell as the bliss gets the better of me and I explode hard and fast inside of her. It’s too fast, I know it. Anita isn’t nearly there yet, but that’s okay. I’m not going to just use her, I want her to enjoy this just as much as me.
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 talking 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 ch
eeks. 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.”