His hard cock rubbed on my clit before he pushed it deep inside me. I savored the pain caused by his force. He reached for my hands, taking them both in one of his. He fucked me senseless, rocking into me, slapping my ass repeatedly with each thrust he gave me.
“Take it,” he moaned. I bit on my lower lip, taking the sweet pain he caused. I kept my eyes closed, letting the darkness, the unknown, take over. He released my hands and pulled out of me rapidly, turning me around and pushing my legs apart. Bruce sat back on his knees, slapping his cock against my clit, the condom coated with my arousal. His fingers dug into my hips as he drove into me again. He wasn’t great in bed, not what I was used too, but not every man was Peyton. Bruce was rough and not the rough most people enjoyed. He didn’t know how to read a women’s body, so he assumed what he was doing was pleasurable.
But I wasn’t complaining.
Was I turned on by him or the numbness he was causing me?
“Fuck yeah!” He bit his lower lip. “Ah, pinch your fucking nipples for me.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my head, submitting to the darkness. Enjoying what Bruce was doing to me, I tugged on my hard nipples, arching my body so they were better exposed for him. My clit ached with need.
“God! You’re such a dirty fucking whore,” he grunted.
I released one nipple and rubbed my clit. Nothing. I felt no guilt, no pain, no agony, pure numbness. The world around me didn’t exist.
“Shut the fuck up and fuck me,” I moaned, my hand continuing to flick my nipple from side to side.
He pulled out of me, then rose from the bed. “Get your cunt over here.”
Kicking my legs over the bed, I stumbled as I followed Bruce. He pulled the chair to the center of the room, facing it directly in front of the mirror. “You want me to fuck you? First I’m going to make you scream my fucking name.” He pushed me in front of the mirror.
“You talk so goddamn much my pussy is dry, fucker.” I let my hands rest on the dresser below the mirror.
“Let me take care of that.”
He rubbed his cock up and down before he dropped to his knees. I lifted my leg up on the dresser and held his head on my clit. His tongue flicked over and over, my impending orgasm almost at the brink.
“Fuck,” I moaned. “Fuck me, Bruce. Fuck me now.”
He stood behind me, grasping my hips as his cock shoved deep inside me. I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on the dresser. His hands wrapped around my neck, holding my face up.
“Open your fucking eyes. Watch me fuck you until you don’t feel shit.”
And he did.
Slamming into me more times than I could count, he took over my body. There wasn’t a thought in my mind besides his cock driving into me and his heavy large balls slapping my clit.
His fingernails dug into my ass cheeks. It was a different type of pain. A pain that I needed. A pain I controlled. I needed more of it. The effect of the pills was in full swing and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I reached under me, rubbing out my climax. My toes curled and a soft whimper escaped my body. Bruce pulled out of me, but I continued to rub, riding the wave.
His strong arms lifted me off the floor, holding me close to him. He sat on the chair, placing me on his lap, his elbows holding my knees over the arms of the chair. Reaching down, I held his cock and he slid inside me.
“Now ride it,” he said, lifting me by my ass before slamming me down again. His hands locked on my waist.
The aftershocks of my orgasm were more intense each time he slammed me down on him. From the mirror, I watched as his cock slid in and out of me. I gripped the armchair, pushing up and down, adding speed to each thrust. My core tightened around him.
He grunted and his breath grew rapid, shoving so deep inside me that I expected a severe amount of pain after this was done.
“Fuck yeah…” he moaned in my ear.
I lay my head on his shoulder and gave him the best type of dirty talk I could think of on such short notice. “Harder, give it to me. Fuck me harder.” I wanted this to be over.
My ass slapped on his stomach a couple of times before he popped me off his cock, jerking his dick until he came inside the condom.
Moving my leg off the chair, I crawled over to the bed, laying my heavy head on the pillow. Bruce sat on the chair, catching his breath. I watched him as he stood, then walked over to the nightstand where he lit his cigarette before locking himself in the bathroom. The water began to run in the shower. I tucked the pillow under me and closed my eyes for a brief moment.
The noise in the hallway startled me. The bedroom was dark and the sunlight from outside was gone, replaced with raindrops. I looked around, not knowing where I was. I pushed off the bed and reached for the light on the nightstand, looking at the clock. It was seven in the evening.
Fuck! I had fallen asleep in a complete stranger’s room.
A note lay next to the pillow on the bed.
I crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it in the trash. I wasn’t sticking around for anything. He gave me what I’d needed— pointless, meaningless sex. That was all I’d wanted.
Sitting up on the bed, I took the hotel phone off the receiver and dialed Loren, I could only imagine how worried she was. Bruce’s cigarette carton sat on the nightstand along with a couple of condoms. I had tried smoking once, but it never interested me. Until now. Opening a new pack, I lit the cigarette and pulled on the smoke as I waited for Loren to answer. The smoke deep in my lungs made me dizzy, but I ignored it and pulled another drag.
I was prepared to leave a message when she answered. “Hello?” She seemed out of breath.
“Lo, it’s me,” I said before I began to choke on the smoke.
“Braelynn, what the fuck were you thinking? I’ve been worried about you all freaking day! Do you know that the police won’t file a missing person report until you’ve been gone for forty-eight hours?” she cried.
I couldn’t let her emotions get to me. I had chosen to walk out and move away from that life because I needed to find who I was again. Worrying about her feelings wasn’t going to help me in the end.
“Loren, listen to me. I’m fine, and you all need to understand that this is what I’m doing. Tomorrow I’ll get a new phone and call you from that number. But I’m doing this, Lo. I’m moving on, and for the time being I need to do this on my own. Either get with it or learn to deal with it.”
“Brae—” Her voice cracked.
“I don’t mean to be a bitch, but this is the way things need to be for a few. Make sure you call Kennedy and Gus and tell them that I need some time away from all of them, okay?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice hurt my heart.
“I’m fine. I’ll talk to you to tomorrow. I got to go.” I placed the phone back on the receiver and finished my cigarette, then changed back into my clothes and packed my bag with the contents of Bruce’s mini bar. Shoving his pack of cigarettes in my back pocket, I closed the door behind me.
I needed to find a job, cheap rent, and a local pharmacy that would approve my prescription. This was only temporary. Just enough time for my mind to heal.
And my heart to mold itself back together.
Peyton
My knuckles ached and sweat dripped from my body, but I fought through it. I ducked Taylor’s jab and pushed an uppercut straight to his jaw. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he staggered back a few feet. I had stood in the ring for the past two hours fighting with Mauricio, my trainer, and now with my brother. It was the only way I could lessen my anger.
Taylor spit his mouthpiece to the floor. “Bro! What the fuck, Peyton?” Taylor asked, rubbing his chin. “You’re aiming every shot at my face.”
“Come on, Taylor. Stop being a bitch. One more round.” I needed to focus on anything besides Braelynn and how she was doing.
Taylor stomped to the edge of the ring and had Mauricio pull his gloves off. He lifted a water bottle to his mouth before he spoke. “Fuc
k off, asshole.”
Loren and Kennedy had both informed me she was home and doing well. But that didn’t help the anger I felt. She had stormed into my life, turned it around, and then left. Kicked me to the curb when she thought I doubted her.
You did doubt her, didn’t you?
“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath.
Taylor jumped out of the ring and tossed the gloves to Mauricio. “Peyton, I’m not getting in the fucking ring with you. I’m pretty sure I have a fucking bruised jaw. Why don’t you drown your broken heart with liquor and pussy like the rest of the world?”
Mauricio laughed at Taylor’s comment. I removed the face mask and jumped off the ring. “Fuck you both. I’m not fucking heartbroken. It’s just—”
“It’s just pussy you can’t conquer,” Taylor joked.
I threw my glove at him and took my towel, wiping the sweat off my face. Mauricio left us to lock up the gym since Taylor and I were his only clients for the day.
“Seriously though, Phil’s bachelor party is next weekend. We’re all going to Montreal for classy pussy and beautiful bitches. We even rented out the strip club for a couple of nights.” He jogged over and lightly punched me in the shoulder. “You know I cure my heartbreaks by getting my dick sucked. Maybe it can work for you.”
I ignored his comment and pulled my cell from my gym bag.
Four missed calls: Kennedy Murphy
“Fuck.”
I hit the return call and brought the phone to my ear. She answered it on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Kennedy, it’s Peyton. You called?”
“Yes.” She sounded exasperated. “She left.”
“What?”
“She left me this letter. Yesterday she asked Loren to leave and she said she was fine. This morning we all had breakfast and we said goodbye to Loren and I went to take a shower. When I got out, she was gone. All her shit was gone too. She left a note stating she needed to be away from all of us.”
“When did she leave?” I asked, tossing my belongings into my gym bag, ignoring Taylor’s concerned face.
“I don’t know, like eleven.”
I looked at my watch. It was seven in the evening. “And you’re fucking calling me now?” I yanked the door to the gym open and the soft raindrops felt cool on my skin. Taylor ran behind me, shouting for me to wait up.
“Whatever, Peyton. I didn’t see the letter until recently. I thought she was sleeping.” She paused for a moment. “Loren called Gus. She heard from Braelynn.”
“And?”
“She asked for us to leave her alone. She will reach out once a week. She said she needs to find her own way to heal.”
Of course.
There I was, concerned, thinking the worse had happened to her again, and all she wanted to do was throw a tantrum. Instead of facing her fucking problems head on, she did the one thing she had done before. She ran.
What the fuck was I worried about?
She didn’t come to me. She hadn’t reached out to me, yet I’d been waiting for her to show up like a fucking lost puppy. She had made it clear since the hospital that she wanted me out of her life, and this time I was going to give it to her.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.” I hung up the phone. I would bury this pussy-whipped bullshit once and for all.
“Everything all right?” Taylor asked, walking next to me as we both headed back to my house.
“When are you going to Montreal again?”
“Dude! Fuck yes!” He fist pumped the air. “We leave next Thursday.”
Braelynn
I hurried out of the W hotel and headed towards the closest Metro PCS. I needed to keep in touch with Loren to keep her calm so I needed a quick, cheap phone. She was the only person I planned on calling … and maybe Gus.
After I had a new phone tucked away in my pocket, I returned to the hotel I was staying at. Paying three hundred dollars a night for a Best Western wasn’t going to cut it for me and my budget. First thing in the morning I needed to find a new place to live, somewhere away from everyone. I also needed to fill another prescription in the event my travels brought me further than my new pharmacy.
Standing a few feet from the entrance, I took the Newport pack from my purse. Lighting the cigarette that was held by my lips, I inhaled the cloud of smoke into my lungs. The rain had stopped falling from the Manhattan skies. On the far horizon, you could see the orange and red rays indicating the night was coming and tomorrow would be a new day. The day that I would leave the bullshit behind and move forward.
I packed up my room the next day and tossed the empty bottles of liquor in the garbage. I tossed a capsule in the back of my mouth and washed it down with tap water from the bathroom, then looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes had a dark ring around them and there was no light shining from them. My blonde hair was dull, a disheveled mess, but anytime I looked at it I thought of Peyton. The way he rubbed his fingers through it. The way he would find a way to grab it when he deepened our kiss. Or even the way he would kiss the top of my head when he hugged me. My eyes filled with tears, remembering him.
The blonde hair had to go.
It was something else I had to leave behind me.
I checked out of the hotel and took the subway uptown to Washington Heights. I wheeled my suitcase behind me as I strolled through the pharmacy, picking up two boxes of standard brown hair dye before I headed back to the pharmacist.
The same woman who had helped me before was sitting on the chair reading a magazine. I waited, contemplating exactly how I would say that I needed a new refill only a few days later. My eye wandered to a bulletin board attached to the wall. It was filled with help wanted signs, child care, drivers, and so on. My attention was caught by one sign that read: Help Wanted, apartment included.
Cashier needed at SuperFood. No experience needed. Apartment for rent above supermarket. Discount for employees. Sunset Park, Brooklyn NY.
“Back already, mami?”
“The pharmacist’s voice scared me. “Uh, sorry. Do you know anything about this ad? I’m in need of a job and an apartment.”
“That’s Junior’s supermarket. I can give you his number if you like.” She placed both of her hands on the counter and leaned forward, looking at my large suitcase. A small smile appeared of her face. “That’s all you got, mami?”
“Lynn,” I pressed on my chest, letting her know my name. “This is all I need. And a refill,” I managed to say, sliding another prescription over to her.
“Nice to meet you, mami. I’m Marisol, but everyone calls me Mari.” She walked to the back of the pharmacy, entering my medication in her outdated computer system. “I should have your refill ready in thirty minutes. Here is my cousin’s cell phone number. I don’t know if you want to call him now or—”
“No, I’ll call right now.” I took the slip of paper from her. “Thank you.”
Once the thirty minutes were up I had a job interview, a potential new apartment to live in, a bottle of pills and hair dye. It may not be the life I was once used to—working in a law firm, and sharing an apartment with my best friend in the Upper East Side, but here, no one would bother me.
No one would know who I was.
Peyton
With a cigar in my hand, I held the twenty out as Lila danced topless in front of me. Her perfectly hard tits were covered with glitter sparkling off the light as she lowered her G–string. The landing strip above her apex was a chocolate brown, not the same as her blonde hair. Unlike Braelynn, she wasn’t a natural blonde. Not that I was fucking complaining.
Phil’s bachelor party was worth every penny. I had spent the past four nights buried deep in pussy, different pussy every night, and intoxicated beyond recognition. My days and nights had become conjoined. Phil had rented out the strip club for the weekend, requesting only the hottest strippers Canada had to offer. I was twenty-thousand dollars down from a couple hands of poker and was about to get my dick sucked before
I came all over this bitches face, only to turn her around and fuck her again. Losing money on card games was nothing when you could have your way with a stripper who was eager to get on her knees for as long as you wanted, no questions asked.
Lila stood in front of me, swaying to the music, lightly pinching her nipples. I took a sip of my whiskey before I plucked the ice out of my cobbler, sliding it along her overly used clit.
“Oh baby, that’s cold,” she moaned.
“Don’t fucking speak,” I said, rubbing the ice back and forth.
She leaned to kiss me and I shoved the ice in her mouth. I leaned back on the chair, unbuckling my pants. The stack of twenty’s and hundred’s laid next to my drink, hers to take as a thank you once we were done. Her eyes sparkled as I pulled out my cock out. I leaned my head back and felt her drop to her knees in front of me. Her cold hands stroked vigorously until I was fully erect, then her hard, thin lips wrapped around my cock. My hand held her head, guiding her up and down. Unlike the others, Lila had no gag reflex, which only enticed me to push her further, making sure her forehead hit my stomach.
Lila bobbed her head up and down for long minutes, working her hardest to get me to come, but it was pointless. There was only one way I could blow. I closed my eyes and thought about the blonde I’d been trying to forget. The one who invaded my memories anytime my dick got hard. The one who pushed me to drink further until I could no longer remember her. Within a few seconds, my balls had tightened.
Pushing Lila back on her knees, I stood, jerking myself off. “Open your mouth,” I grunted. I aimed for her face, shooting my jizz in her eyes, and on her cheeks and forehead.
But I wasn’t done.
Lila stood to wipe the cum off her face, but I stopped her. “Turn around, I’m not done.”
She stood in front of me, holding onto the ledge on the chair. I rolled a condom down my semi-hard cock. This was about me getting off, not her. I rubbed my cock on her clit, jerking it slightly so I could get hard again. Sliding it in her, I held her hips, thrusting at my own pace, eventually finding my release.
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