“Fuck, dad, what are you doing?” I screamed, mortified to the core.
“Shut up, Estelle, before I wash out that dirty mouth of yours.”
“Leave!” I screamed as I tried unsuccessfully to cover myself.
He laughed, “Yeah, yeah I’m going. Oh, and thanks for the image; it will come in handy later.” He shut the door quietly behind him, and I listened to his heavy footsteps diminuendo down the hall.
I never bothered telling Mom about it; she had her own issues to deal with, and I figured she wouldn’t believe me anyway.
Men don’t go from being angels to Satan within an instant. It turned out he was always like this; we just didn’t know about it—or chose not to acknowledge his behavior. After all, what would our neighbors have said had they known that our happy little family was that fucked up?
Knowing now what she clearly knew about him, I should have given her a lot more credit, or at least the chance to feel like she didn’t have to keep up some sort of a false happiness for the sake of our family.
You should have left him, Mom—packed what little we had, taken me, and left. I wouldn’t have judged you. No one would have, had they known the truth.
11
Panicking, I rushed onto the packed train, my eyes scanning the carriages, desperate to catch another glimpse of that face. I searched through the hoards of people with pure determination, knowing I wouldn’t get off the train until I saw him. With or without her—I didn’t care anymore.
Why couldn’t I find him? What if I never saw him again? What if I missed the one chance I had to speak with him alone?
Disheartened, I realized I was now at the last carriage. I peered through the darkened foggy doors on the off chance he would be there. My heart was filled with instant, excited delight when I saw his face through the glass. The rest of the carriage was surprisingly empty. I was almost beside myself when I realized how close I was to finally speaking with him. In anticipation, I placed my hand on the glass, wondering what I would say to him as I reached to open the door.
Suddenly, his mouth dropped open and his head fell back against the wall as he closed his eyes in pleasure. Then I saw her—she was kneeling between his legs, her head bobbing up and down as she devoured his erection between her plump, perfect lips.
For the first time, I saw him look at her—straight down to watch her pleasuring him, and he began speaking as her head bobbed faster. His fingers wove through her hair as he pulled her closer to his groin.
Minutes later he pulled her to her feet and spun her around so she was facing the wall. He lifted her skirt and pulled down a pair of lilac panties.
Her buttocks were alabaster—smooth and perfectly white. When he slapped her cheeks, her back arched in pleasure and she cried out for him to do it again. This time he spanked her harder, spreading her buttocks wide as he plunged his shaft deep within her creamy folds.
He humped her furiously, her knuckles turning white as she clenched onto the steel railings for support when the train rocked around a sharp bend. Suddenly, he spun her around and ripped open her blouse, releasing almost translucent breasts into full view.
Her pink-pointed nipples, fully alert, reminded me of the bottom of a ripe strawberry, ready to be eaten. His tongue flicked out of his mouth in eager anticipation; he sealed his lips over her buds and began sucking and then licking her breasts as she whimpered, closing her eyes in surrender.
Next he spread her legs apart, and with a glint of sparkling lust in his eyes, he again began thrusting into her juicy folds, with even more passion than before. Their eyes locked together in lust as their bodies merged into one, deeper and faster as the seconds ticked by.
I should have walked away, but I couldn’t. Seeing him fuck her made me want him even more. The way he took control of her body and knew exactly what he wanted made my insides almost ache for his commands. I had never been with a man like that.
After they came, her eyes closed in euphoria, and her head turned towards me. Maybe she sensed someone was watching them. Her eyes suddenly flew open, flashing with anger when she saw my face pressed up against the glass and realized I had just seen the whole thing.
She scowled at me, screaming as she pointed in my direction, his cock still deep within her sex. He calmly put his hand over her mouth, ordering her to stop. Then he turned to see what the agitated porcelain doll was pointing at.
I was still pressed up against the glass, watching them, frozen in fear and moist from the scene I had just witnessed. My feet were heavy as set concrete. I stood there, unable to move.
I have never been so shocked in my life as when he smiled and beckoned me to enter their carriage.
This is what fantasies are made of, but having the offer in reality really freaked me out. Although my body was screaming to be touched by him, aching to feel his hardness up against me, curious to discover how it felt to be envied by another woman when all he wanted in that moment was sex with me…
There was no way. Porn is one thing. Live sex in a public place is another.
I made it to work and opened the dressing room door to find Candice prepping herself before the night’s business. “You know how I was worried working in this industry would turn me dodgy?” I asked.
Candice rubbed her lips together, as she finished the final touches to her lipstick. “Yes, Miss Price,” she laughed, “I remember your concerns.”
I sat down next to her, peeling off my coat and hanging it across the back of the chair. “Well, I was right.”
She glanced at me sideways in the mirror with a coy look on her pretty face, her strawberry blonde layers perfectly framing high cheekbones. “Why? What happened?”
I exhaled, biting my lip before confessing, “Live sex.”
She gave me a blank look and then laughed, heading to the back of the room to change into her costume. “Estelle, I don’t think there is any such thing as dead sex.”
I shook my head, ignoring her screwed-up humor. “I watched people having sex on the train today.”
Instantly attentive, she turned and smiled at me, clutching a black latex corset in her hand. “Really? Were they any good?”
“Yeah, but I got caught.”
“What?”
“After they finished, the woman turned her head in my direction and saw me watching them through the glass.”
Candice’s eyes widened as she rolled up the black fishnet stockings over her long legs. “No! Then what?”
“Then she yelled at me.”
Candice leaned forward, adjusting her breasts into the corset and then turned her back towards me, gesturing for me to do up the lacing. “What about the guy? What did he do?”
I began to tighten the ribbon, sucking her into even more of an hourglass figure as I secured the ribbons into a large bow. “He smiled and waved at me to come into the carriage.”
She turned, suddenly gasping, now fully engrossed in my story. “Shit, Estelle! What train is this? I wanna take that ride. Did you have sex with them? No wonder you’re late!”
“Are you nuts?” I giggled. “I didn’t hang around to see what he wanted. I got the hell out of there! I ran through a few carriages, and then got off at the next stop.”
She placed her hands on my shoulders and gave me a disappointed look like I had forgotten her birthday. “You’re a funny thing. It could have been a lot of fun, you know.”
I wrinkled my nose, knowing I still had more to divulge. “I haven’t told you the craziest part.”
She smirked, excited by the thought. “What is that?”
“It was them.”
“Who?”
“The porcelain doll and him.”
She bent down and began buckling up her thigh-high boots with a giant smile plastered across her face. “You’re telling me that the guy you’ve been obsessing over for months, you just watched bonking another woman?”
“Yes.”
“Did you secretly want to join them when he offered?”
&nbs
p; I paused, wondering if my honesty would shock her. “Kind of. I didn’t realize watching live sex would turn me on that much. It’s a lot different than regular porn, you know; it’s so much more graphic. Plus you don’t know if you’re going to get caught, or if they will; it’s pretty naughty.”
She laughed, “So you liked it! Looks like you’ve found yourself a new hobby then, you little peeping tom! What was he like?”
I sighed the image of them together, still clear in my mind. “Rough, sexy, hung.”
She winked at me. “Looks like you saw everything in great detail.”
I leaned forward, wanting to tell her more. “I couldn’t stop watching them; I wanted to—sort of, but I couldn’t stop. Now I’m embarrassed to see them again. Clearly, it was an intimate moment; I shouldn’t have watched. I’m no better than the bastards who watch us.”
She shook her head at my naiveté. “Estelle. If they were screwing each other on a busy, public train, in full view of anyone and everyone, then clearly, it wasn’t an ‘intimate moment.’ They probably get off on the idea of getting caught.”
She was probably right.
Candice glanced at the clock. “We’ve got ten minutes until the next dance. Tell me more! I need something to keep me going through the shift. Is it just me or do our clients seem to be getting drunker and older by the day?”
I started fishing through the wardrobe, wondering what outfit I would wear to accompany her latex. “No, you’re right. They mostly all seem to be in their mid-fifties lately.”
“Well then,” she laughed, “tell me what you saw, Miss Tom!”
“I was going from carriage to carriage, searching for him, and when I got to the last carriage, I saw him behind the glass. I was about to go in when...”
“What?”
“I noticed from the expression on his face, that he wasn’t alone. She was on her knees, blowing him like they only had seconds left together.”
Candice leaned into the mirror, applying some final bronzing touches to her cleavage. “Sounds like he’s a naughty boy.”
“Mmm. I guess. She’s always seemed pretty fixated on him, though, so she probably begged him for the pleasure.”
Candice laughed, “Then what?”
“He pulled her to her feet, spun her around, pulled down her panties and gave her a couple of spanks.”
She smiled, licking her lips as her imagination kicked into overdrive. “He is a naughty boy, showing her who’s boss—I love it! Tell me more!”
“After her bottom was slightly pink, he spread open her cheeks, and well, you know…”
Candice glared at me as I went back to flipping through the wardrobe of fantasy costumes at my disposal.
“Damn it, Estelle! Why would you trail off right there? You were just getting to the good part! I can’t for the life of me remember the last time I had a good bang from behind.”
I laughed, quickly pulling on a schoolgirl outfit and brushing my hair into pigtails. “I’m not comfortable talking about such graphic stuff. It’s embarrassing, that’s all.”
She gasped, not believing me for a second. “You? Embarrassed? Have you seen yourself on stage?” She laughed, imitating Mick’s thick Italian accent. “Bella, your body, principessa… is an orgasm.”
“Urgh. Please don’t—just one of Mick is bad enough; I don’t need two.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling at me. “Fine, I’ll be nice. Now, are you ready to go taunt some men with me and those sexy moves of yours?”
I sighed, making some final adjustments to my outfit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go do this.”
Candice laughed as she grabbed my hand and led me to the stage. The lights went up and the men in the club rushed to get a seat below us. She walked onto the stage and announced to the pit of men “Someone has been a very naughty girl; I think it’s time for a strip search!” The music started playing, and the men cheered as I began dancing against the pole yet again.
***
It was now official. Signed, sealed and delivered. Whoever he was—they were—it was obvious that I was well and truly obsessed.
Would it be totally insane if I were to lock myself up in my flat, give myself a solid slap across the chops and say, “This is an intervention, Estelle. I love you, but you’re fucking nuts, and you need to get a grip!”
I can’t stop thinking about him—if I really try not to, I think about him even more. I don’t know how that’s possible, but I swear that’s what happens.
I’ve become so deluded that he has become my happy place. Every time another client tries to cross the line and feel me up during a lap dance, I close my eyes and imagine it’s him grasping me, touching me, exploring my aching loneliness.
I find myself not wanting to hang around and chat with Candice as much anymore, since I’m too obsessed with the possibility that I may see him at the station.
Now it has gotten to the point where I’ve even started dreaming about him. Last night just about sent me over the edge. I had the most vivid sex dream about the two of them screwing hell for leather on the train. My sleepy dream-like state continued on for probably another hour as I dreamed I then went to work and told Candice all about it.
It was all so real that when I woke up this morning, I was completely unsure if it had really happened yesterday, or whether it was just another fantasy playing out in my sexually frustrated mind.
I think I need help—or just a really good bonk.
12
Oh god…
There he stood, without the porcelain-faced vixen. Completely alone.
What if this is just another one of your sex dreams again? How can you be positive he’s not going to unzip his trousers and beckon you to pleasure him?
I smiled to myself, liking that idea. I could wait to find out, just in case...
Don’t be absurd; you don’t have time for that!
“Ouch.”
Nope, definitely not dreaming.
After pinching myself to double check, this time I knew I was awake. The moment was very real, and this time, she wasn’t hidden from sight, feasting on him from down on her knees.
This was my opportunity slapping me hard across the face without an apology—screaming at me to take action! But what action? I knew his train would be leaving within minutes. I could either walk away or confront my fantasy head on. I figured it was obvious that he liked me; otherwise, he wouldn’t have stared at me over all those months. So what did I have to loose? Nothing.
But wasn’t it his job to chase after me and tell me how gorgeous I was? I didn’t like the unnerving, sinking feeling of having to step out of my comfort zone and approach him. Just thinking about it felt wrong. I was so used to men from the club rushing up to me and confessing their admiration for my body that somehow I figured he would do exactly the same thing.
I figured wrong.
My heart started thumping in my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so sick to my stomach. Taking all my clothes off and dancing in a room full of drunken, sleazy men didn’t have this effect on me, so why would saying a simple “hello” have to be such a big deal?
I made a stupid pact with myself. If I didn’t go and say hello to him in this exact moment, then I had to stop thinking about him once and for all. It was either all or nothing. Take it or leave it.
What’s it to be?
I chose to take it.
I stepped onto the train and began walking through the carriages. I wasn’t going to give myself any extra time to change my mind.
My heart raced as I wondered what would happen. I approached him, gently brushing past him in subtle seduction. “Hey,” I whispered. His eyes instantly looked up to meet mine.
He said nothing. He didn’t even react. He just looked away—uninterested, cold, completely self-absorbed.
I bit my lip, trying not to get discouraged by this temporary glitch in our romance. This was not how my dreams had gone—he was always so much nicer in the fantasies. I smil
ed again, this time fluttering my lashes with a quick wink as I looked back at him again over my shoulder. “Um… hellooo?”
He looked at me again like I was some sort of annoying fly. His eyes had a kind of irritated glint to them, like he was trying to remember where he put the fly spray.
Departed (Unbearably Gifted Book 1) Page 4