by Mia Ford
But the only down side to the lack of communication is the fact that I’m acutely aware of the gravitational pull that’s coming from the other side of the table, which I know is where Mr. Banker is sitting. It’s as if I’m so much in tune with his body that I know all of his movements before he even makes them. Ant that is crazy, because I barely know him at all. He’s never really shared anything with me. How can I feel like I understand him when I had to hear his first name through Leah?
“Mr. Banker?” someone saying his name sharply grabs my attention and lifts my eyes from my bowl. “What is wrong with you today? You’re all jumpy like a bunny in headlights this morning.”
Almost as if he senses the magnet between us too, his eyes scan around to meet mine. When a slight pink tinges his cheeks, I feel an affinity with him. Is it possible that he’s feeling the same connection as I am. Is he jumpy because I’m here just like I am because of him?
No, of course that can’t be the case. He chose to be here… but why is he looking at me like that? It doesn’t make any real sense. I have to assume that something’s going on or it just means I’m going insane. It makes me want to get him alone, on my terms so I’m not afraid, and to just ask him.
“Oh sorry, I think I’m just a little bit tired,” he says with a shaky voice. “I don’t know what’s wrong really. I didn’t sleep well.” He holds up his coffee mug. “I guess I need more of these.”
Everyone laughs except me, because I can barely stand the tension in the room. It’s crushing my wind pipe, squeezing my lungs, making it very difficult for me to get any air into my body at all. Without really thinking about it, I scrape my chair back noisily causing everyone to spin around to look at me, and I race from the room quickly, avoiding looking at everyone, especially him. I need an escape, I need a break. Seeing Mr. Banker like that was a shock that I need to recover from.
I gasp desperately as soon as I reach the communal area and I collapse onto the couch there while I try and get my head in order. I have too much to worry about now. This isn’t it.
Stop thinking about Mr. Banker, I warn myself. Like, at all. He’ll be left behind soon when I start the next chapter of my life in just a couple of weeks. Just like all of this will.
It’s hard to keep remembering that I’ll be eighteen very soon. It’s hard to keep my eyes on the end goal. Maybe there’s a part of me that’s so afraid I keep shutting down. That’s why I’m developing dumb ass feelings for someone that I’ll never be able to have, just as a distraction.
Screw it. I grab one of the tablets while they’re sitting around with no one on them and I start my search into the real world. There’s no time like the present after all. It’s something I need to do so why not now. That’ll prove to Mr. Banker that I’m ready to finally get out there…
Only, after looking at three apartments, I feel a bit overwhelmed, and after searching through four pages of job listings, I start to get despondent. It all sounds a bit scary, like the life that someone else should have, not me. I mean, the idea of being a waitress is one thing, but can I actually do a public facing job where I’ll be expected to be confident and chatty every single day? And what is an admin assistant? I don’t know if that’s something I’ll be able to handle with ease, or something that will crush me under the uneducated weight of my brain. I want to know it all, but I don’t.
As for the thought of setting myself out a budget… well, that’s beyond my comprehension right now. The rent prices I examined looked extortionate, so much more than the admin assistant job pays, and the last thing I want is to figure out that I’m in a hopeless situation that I won’t be able to hack.
No, instead, my itchy fingers search for something else. Something that I used to look up all the time in the beginning, but that I’ve given up on during the last couple of years because it never led to anything new. But now that I’m about to head out there in the world, maybe it’s time to find out if there is an update again. I don’t want to know, but at the same time I really have to. It’s the smart and sensible thing to do, it’s the adult choice to look. Even if I feel sick doing so.
The web page loads at an agonizingly slow pace, making my heart race in my throat by the time the image reveals itself. I get myself so worked up that by the time I see it, it takes a while to sink in.
“Oh, my God,” I gasp, clapping my hand loudly across my mouth. “Holy fucking shit.”
The words swim, they don’t make any sense, but at the same time I know exactly what they’re trying to say. Instantly I feel lost, like I have no anchor anymore, like I’m floating horribly.
“Oh, I am sorry, Pru.” Mr. Banker’s voice cuts through the silence, striking me in the heart. “I didn’t want you to find out from the Internet. That’s why I came in early today, to tell you myself.”
“My dad.” I look up at him through tear stained eyes. “He’s dead? He died in prison?”
I know he’s done bad things, I understand that what he did to me was awful and it left me hospitalized as a child. I know if he hadn’t done that I would be in a much better place now. I also understand that I felt very scared of seeing him again and that fearing him has led me to fear all men, but the idea that he got sick and he died in a damp disgusting cell is a horrifying thought. He only turned bad because we lost my mom and he didn’t know how to grieve. He has a heart of gold and there’s a part of me that remembers a lot of the good times that came before.
Plus, he’s the only family I had left. Now that he’s gone I have nothing.
“He did. We got the call today. Pneumonia, I think, they’re still working out the details.”
Mr. Banker remains over the other side of the room, creating a chasm of distance between us. As tears fall hard and fast down my face I expect him to near me to assist me in my grief, but he doesn’t. I knew that something had changed between us, I could sense it the very first moment that I laid eyes on him this morning, but now I can really feel it. He can’t bear to be close to me. Maybe that’s because he feels weird around me, or maybe it’s because he wants me gone. I don’t know and to be quite frank I don’t really care anymore. This has taken precedence in my mind.
“What am I going to do?” I weep pathetically. “Now I don’t have anyone.”
Mr. Banker doesn’t give me his usual spiel about how I have a family at the center who will always be there for me, which suggests to me that for some reason I don’t anymore. I feel incredibly unwelcome. I need to get the hell away from here before he becomes a casualty of my grief and I end up saying something that I’ll definitely regret later on. That’s the last thing I need.
I stand, dropping the tablet on the couch, and I move to the door way to leave. Before I can fully make it out of the room, Mr. Banker grabs onto my arm as if it’s a last-minute decision and he holds me there. I freeze, staring up at him, desperately begging him for answers, silently of course.
“Sorry, Pru,” he says quietly to me, leaning in so there’s no chance of eavesdroppers overhearing his words. “I know this is hard for you. We’ll talk about it whenever you’re ready.”
There’s something deep in his eyes that I don’t quite know how to decipher, but it’s definitely a look that’s only for me to see. As I nod, I wonder if me and him have a secret, an in joke that we won’t share with anyone else. I kinda hope we do but there’s part of me that thinks I’m just desperately searching for something now. I need a connection more than ever because I’m completely alone, but that doesn’t mean there is one…
Chapter Seven – Logan
As soon as I crash through the door into my apartment, I let out a deep sigh of relief. Thank God, that day is over. The moment I got an Internet alert about Pru’s father dying in jail I knew it was going to be awful, but I didn’t realize quite how bad. I didn’t know how deeply my dream was going to affect me all day long, making it a challenge to even be near her. How the hell am I going to work with her if I can’t even be in the same room without freaking out?
&nb
sp; I need a nice cool shower, I think that’s just about the only thing that’s going to keep me in check today. I drop my bag on the floor and make a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring any distractions along the way. I need to wash off the discomfort I felt all day long by simply being in the same building as Pru, I need to get rid of all these churned up confusing feelings, I just need to be clean. Right now, I feel like the dirtiest son of a bitch around.
I don’t wait, as soon as the water is running I strip down and leap into the shower, trying my hardest to relax as the jets pound off my muscles. I rest my palms flat up against the tiles on the wall and I slide my eyes closed. In an attempt to clear my mind, I think of nothing but darkness. I don’t let anything from the day seep in, but somehow it isn’t enough. Somehow her beautiful face still remains firmly there, taunting me, making me feel like a mad man, obsessed. What is it about this young beauty that drives me so wild? Is it just that she’s unattainable? Am I that into the taboo or scared of commitment that I can only really fixate on someone that can never be mine?
In some ways, it wouldn’t be impossible for me and her to have something of a normal relationship. She’s only eight years younger than me, which might be a big gap now, but will be nothing when we’re older. If I met her in another situation then maybe, but I didn’t, so I can’t.
I just need to get her out of my system, that’s all.
My hand slides down my body and I grab onto my cock which of course is hard as steel as I’m trying to imagine what life could be like with Pru. I know I’m an animal, it’s all totally fucked up of me, but as long as it only remains in my mind, that isn’t a problem, is it?
This time, as I tug myself off, I picture Pru sitting on the dining room table in my home with her legs spread wide for me and I’ve already removed her panties so all I need to do is dip my head down, inhale her sweet, untouched scent, and flick my tongue all over her. I want to give her pleasure, I want to make her feel as incredible as she did me… in my dream… while I fantasize about her. Urgh, what a mess. Still, right now as I harmlessly play with myself in the shower, it feels right.
“Oh, Mr. Banker,” she whispers as I cause her pussy to pulse and shudder. “That feels so good. You’re corrupting me, turning me into a sexual deviant. I might have to just stay with you.”
I suck her clit, playing with it between my teeth, trying not to think of the words my brain concocted. This is all just a sexual fantasy thing, there’s no point in complicating it by adding a silly amount of romance into the mix. Even imaginary Pru and me can’t be together.
A pressure builds in my chest as I picture Pru writhing and rolling her hips so my tongue slides into her. My cock trembles in my hands. I fist myself hard and fast, knowing this release is exactly what I need. Once I’ve got this moment of madness out of my mind, I can continue on as normal…
“Fucking hell,” I grunt as I cum everywhere, making a mess of the shower. “Fuck, Pru.”
Once I’m done, and my cock is limp in my hand, I pant hard and fast while I wait for my heart rate to calm down. Pru should be gone from my mind now, I can start making plans for the evening. I can order a take out and binge, watch some box set, or I can go out to eat in a bar where I might see someone else exciting enough to grab my eye for a while. Or maybe I can just have a drink and go over some paper work, get ahead of myself so I’m in a better position tomorrow. I have been distracted today after all, that would be the smart thing to do. Usually, that’s the path I’d take because even when I’m out screwing around and blowing off some steam, I do so once my work is complete. My job always, one hundred percent of the time, comes first.
But today, I can’t seem to get myself into the work mode, or into the idea of going out and having a good time actually, despite the fact that I’ve just… sorted myself out, I’m hard again.
“Fucking hell, Pru,” I mutter angrily to myself as I step out of the shower. That didn’t work so there’s no point in remaining. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
I’ve never been like this before, I feel like there’s a beast of passion inside of me that won’t be tamed however much I need it to be. I need something else to sate this madness, and I don’t think having some more me, myself, and my time will cut it.
I grab my cell phone, already hating myself for what I’m about to do, but knowing that if I don’t I’ll end up pacing up and down like a crazy person with insomnia. I don’t think I can go through another night of barely any sleep, and I also don’t know if I can succumb to more dreams like I experienced before either. I can’t keep thinking of Pru like that, it’s sending me deeper and deeper into madness. I need someone else to take my mind off her and I don’t have time to find a stranger.
Ring, ring… Ring, ring… Ring, ring…
I press the cell phone up to my ear and bite down on my bottom lip while I wait. Roxy lives three floors down and we occasionally call one another for a hook up. I don’t like to do so because she lives so close to me, I know it might get awkward, and I’m also afraid of too much sex leading to her wanting a relationship, but right now I don’t have much of a choice. Plus, I did hear a rumor that she might be moving home soon anyway, so that will solve everything.
“Hey there, Logan,” Roxy purrs as she answers. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“You up?” I ask in a teasing tone, trying to mask my neediness. “You fancy a night cap?”
“Oh, you know me. I’m always up for a drink. Be right there.”
I grin with relief once I hang the phone up, glad that she’s being so compliant. I don’t bother to get dressed because I’ll be naked again in a moment, so I wander into the kitchen with the towel wrapped around my waist to pour Roxy a drink. Luckily, she drinks the same brand of whiskey as me when she’s here which keeps things very simple. I enjoy how easy she makes hooking up, if only it wasn’t so risky. This is something we could do all the time otherwise.
The erection underneath the towel might be for a different girl completely, but since she’ll never get to experience it, I can have some fun with someone else. If I simply focus on Roxy and her overt sexiness, then it’ll be easy to forget about Pru for the night, I’m sure of it.
Knock, knock.
“Oh, thank God,” I mutter as Roxy alerts me to her arrival. “Come in.”
I hear the clip clop of high heels which make their way through my apartment to join me in the kitchen. Once there, Roxy grabs her tumbler of drink from me and she knocks it back in one.
“I’m moving next week you know,” she tells me while slinging off her top. “So, this might well be our last hurrah unless we bump into one another in a bar somewhere.” She slides down her trousers with a cheeky smile. “Which is highly unlikely because we don’t ever drink in the same places, so I suppose we better make this a good one, shouldn’t we? This might very well be it.”
She grabs me and kisses me hard, trying to guide me towards the living room but that isn’t what I want today. I know what my heart desires and while it might be wrong, I also know that I need it.
“No, on the table,” I grunt to Roxy. “Sit up on the dining room table.”
Roxy’s body is a very different shape to Pru’s and she also has a different shade of blonde hair, but this is the closest thing I’ll get to making my shower fantasy come true. It’s wild and crazy, but I’m sure people think of all sorts of stuff and people while screwing. I can’t be the first, or the worst.
“Oh sure.” Roxy peels off her panties, slides off her bra and perches on the edge so I can access her easily. Her glistening slit is luring me in, begging me to live out my day dream inside of her. “Like this? Is this how you want me?” Then she slides off and bends over the table. “Or this?”
Oh fuck. “The second one,” I murmur while grabbing onto a condom that I keep in the drawer. “That’s much fucking better.” I don’t tell her why, but it’s better because I can easily imagine her as someone else this way. I can drive myself into her fro
m behind, pretending that it’s Pru.
Not that Pru would ever behave this way I’m sure, she’s much too sweet and innocent.
I rest the flat palm of my hand on Roxy’s back while I drive into her. I bang her hard against the table, causing all sorts of excitable groans to fly out of her mouth. Once I’ve settled into a comfortable rhythm I reach around the front of her and I flick my finger over her clit, so Roxy can enjoy this as much as I am. She feels good around me, this is fine…
If I’m totally honest with myself, I don’t think this is as good as I thought it would be. I assumed that I’d forget and it would all be lots of fun, but if anything, having sex with Roxy is leaving me cold and a bit hollow. It’s enjoyable as the sex goes, but picturing her as Pru just makes me sad and now I’ve made it impossible to see her as anything else.
We both cum together and I feel deflated once it’s done. This little issue of mine isn’t going to be solved as easily as simply getting it out my system. I know she’ll be gone soon, but I’m beginning to doubt that even that will be enough. I hope I don’t end up as a sad lonely man who can’t get one person out my mind. That’ll just be awful.
“Well, amazing as always,” Roxy announces proudly. “It’s a shame I’m moving but I can’t stay for you.”
I smile thinly, agreeing with her sentiment but hating the way it reminds me again that I’m completely by myself. Fucking hell, what a mess.
Chapter Eight – Prudence
This is the right thing to do, I think anxiously to myself as I pace up and down in front of Mr. Banker’s door at five to four, impatiently waiting to go inside. This is the way to make it right.