714Alright so this is truly my first fictionpress story. I had this idea stuck in my head for some time and thought it was rather controversial. But here it is and let me know what ya'll think. Please review if you want me to continue : )
6.14.2012- When you click on my name (author's name) on my story a page that is not my own comes up. I've emailed tech and am desperately waiting for their answer. "HidaBukkorosu" IS NOT MY PAGE! Thank you "EverySilence" for bringing this to my attention.
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"What else do we have to pay?" I asked my mother.
She looked at me with sad and sick eyes.
"The mortgage." I didn't want to remind her that I still needed to do groceries; I had not done that in nearly two weeks.
My mother was sick, she had been sick for the past two years; lung cancer the doctors said and my father had passed away when I was a child. The family now consisted of sick mom, and Gavin, my six-year-old brother. I was the only one in the house employed, and I worked two dead end jobs to pull us afloat, but it still wasn't enough to pay the house bills as well as mom's hospital bills and medicine.
The nine to six of cleaning houses combined with the six thirty to one a.m. waiting tables at a bar were not enough. I needed at least three grands to pull us afloat and I had no way to getting them.
I looked at Gavin his auburn hair bent as he ate his breakfast. I would sacrifice everything to see him grow up well and out of this miserable town. When mom had fallen sick I had been twenty. When I graduated from high school I decided to work two years, at least until I had enough money to pay my living expenses as I went to school. All my dreams went to waste when my mother got sick. I wouldn't abandon my family in these conditions.
"You ready to go sweetheart?" I said to Gavin.
"Yeah. Jenny?" He said getting up from the chair. I went over and grabbed his coat and book-bag; kneeling in front of him I helped him put them on.
"What is it?"
"They are having a book-fair and-"
"I know sweets." I pulled out the last five dollars in my pockets and gave them to him. It did not matter that I did not eat breakfast to conserve our supply and would not be eating lunch today. It was his birthday after all.
"Happy birthday, Gav." I placed a quick kiss on his forehead and grabbed his hand.
"I wont be home till really late mom, don't wait up." I kissed her forehead as well and then headed out with Gavin.
While I had one last thing to sell my family would not get evicted and starve. Living in the wrong side of the tracks you learn to do anything and everything to survive. Tonight I would take on a new job.
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The dress was too short for the twenty-degree weather we were having and the thigh highs stockings and faux fur jacket did little to shield me from the harsh winter. The impossibly high-heeled shoes were as uncomfortable as they came.
The streets in this area appeared mostly deserted. Even in the daytime most people in town avoided such an area, for it was filled with old factory buildings with broken windows and filthy walls. In the night it belonged to the streetwalkers.
"Alright, here's another one." Darla said, sliding her dress up a little more. Darla was the person who I had first spoken to about this, a prostitute who had been on the trade for nearly four years. I didn't need four years, three grands was more than enough.
A non-descriptive gray called had pulled over across from us. Though the car appeared to blend in to the night, it was obvious that it was a latest model. Fancy, wearing no scratches, the type of vehicle that people from the right side of the tracks drove.
One of the girls moved towards the car, she leaned her arms against the window, blocking my view of the man. She began speaking with him.
"Hey, darling." She said.
"Not you." The voice was harsh and cruel. The insolence in the tone made me incredibly angry.
"Well take your pick then." She said laughing as she moved away from the vehicle.
It was dark within the vehicle and from where I stood, I could not see his face. Yet I felt his gaze on me. I prayed he would not pick me.
"The thin brunette in the fur." For a second I gazed at one of the girls who was wearing fur as well. I was content to find that it was not me he picked. The woman I was staring at then laughed and pointed to her hair.
"Red." She said in a mocking tone. Upon further inspection I realized that though her hair appeared brown at glance under the dark sky, it was red.
"Gonna cost ya extra. It's her first day on the job." I did not even know who spoke.
"Fine." The man in the car said.
"Off you go, toots," Darla said and in my ear she whispered "And if it gets too out of hand you can always leave." She then pushed me gently towards the car.
It was warm inside the vehicle, its leather seats felt incredibly soothing against my almost bare legs. I did not look at the man besides me, too afraid that he would look like the poster ad for a murderer. What did men that hire street whores look like anyways? Why would anybody hire a one anyways?
"How much for the hour?"
"Three hundred." The price sounded incredibly high especially for a streetwalker but he did not say anything.
He began driving away from the alley where the other women were. And the drive was long; I recognized the outskirts of town twenty minutes later and thirty minutes after that the sign welcoming us to another town. All the while I stole glances at him.
He appeared a large man even sitting down, not as in overweight but a body that carried muscle and strength. His blonde hair was short, too short to even grab, and as headlights from other vehicles illuminated the inside of the car, I could see that his eyelashes and eyebrows where just as light as his hair and his eyes were pale. Though the strong structure of his face and its straight nose looked familiar I did not recognize him until he pulled over in front of a motel, turned to me. I could not mistake those baby blue eyes anywhere, nor the strong family chin or the arrogant line of his lips. Adrian McIntyre.
As a six grader I would dream that the then high school senior would be my prince charming. He was everything a prince should be, popular, tall and attractive, athletic…from the right side of the tracks. His family were worshipped in town, they was nothing better than being a McIntyre. After high school he had left for an Ivy League university as expected but rumors began circulating that after a year he dropped from school and joined the military.
But I was no longer a child. I was a woman who had sold my body for his use. And he was no longer a charming young man, but somebody whose face spoke of bitterness and whose eyes held unabashed cynicism. At least he did not recognize me.
"Wait here." He got out of the vehicle and headed towards motel. I could not help but to watch as his strong body stalked across the parking lot. Tears gathered in my eyes and I took deep breaths. I felt as one who was waiting to be executed. But I would survive this. I had to.
When he came back to the vehicle he held the keys to a room. He opened the door of the car for me. I stared up at him like a rabbit caught in a wolf's snare.
"Get out." He said.
When I did not move, he reached for me. His hand closing around my arm, making me stand.
"I am not gonna hurt you." His eyes mocked me.
I wanted to turn and run away screaming like a mad woman. Instead I formed a sultry smile on my lips.
"Let go." He released my arm.
I walked stoically besides him across the parking lot and into a cheap motel room, my heels clapping against the pavement, never allowing me to forget my profession.
The room was, as one would expect of a cheap motel. There was a mirror on the wall behind the desk, two bedside tables, one besides each side of the bed and a chair against the window. That was all.
"Give me a second," Adrian said and walked into what I presume was the bathroom.
I heard the faucet running, serving as a soundtrack in the quiet room. I walked towards the desk, which was placed against the wall and across from the bed. I sat on the desk with my legs crossed and waited for him.
When Adrian came out of the bathroom he removed his jacket, threw it on the chair and then came directly towards me. When he stood in front of me he grabbed my face, bringing it up to his. His blue eyes seemed cold as he searched my face, yet I saw no recognition in his gaze.
"Well let's get on with it." I said with false bravado.
Adrian grabbed my thighs and parted them; he came to stand between them. His large and callused hands felt as if they burned my skin. They moved to my coat and he helped me out of it throwing the borrowed coat on the floor. He wasted no more time, his hands slid up my thighs and under my dress. I felt his fingers on my panties as he slid them down my legs. I rubbed my heels against his calves, the heavy shoes fell on the carpeted floor. His fingers slid against my inner thighs and came to stop between them. Our eyes locked and I reached for his belt and trousers, desperate to be over with this farce.
As he thrust into me my body was pushed against the wall and I felt the cold glass of the mirror on my back. His hands firmly held my hips as he thrust repeatedly into me. His cool breath fanned against my face as surely mine fanned against his. He did not hide his gaze against my neck and that the room was not dark but that as he sought his pleasure. He stared into my eyes, his face so different from what I remember.
In defiance I stared right back at him, daring him to say something against me.
IT became a battle of wills. It angered me that Adrian was from the right side of town, that he had everything. He probably did not know what it was like to spend days without eating a real mean, or to have to mend your socks because you couldn't afford a new pair.
His thrusts became more urgent, angrier and his grip on my hips bruising. When he finally found the release he sought, he wrapped his arms around me and leaned his forehead against my cheek. I felt his lips on my throat, his breathing harsh. My body felt alive, my breath loud against my ears. I too wanted release.
I rocked my hips against his body.
"Are we done?"
"No." He said against my throat.
"The fare still remains the same." At my words he smiled cruelly, his fist closed against my hair, angling my face towards his. I felt his breath on my lips, but he did not kiss me.
"I can afford you."
He carried me to the bed and threw me unceremoniously on it. He began removing his clothing, letting it all fall to the floor. He then climbed on the bed and over me. A part of me felt overwhelmed at the size on his body compared to mine but a more primal instinct within me cherished the difference.
He helped me undressed, caressing my body as he did so, his touch gradually gentling. We went for a second round, a slower one of lovers. In his eyes I saw the wish to see me yield as I had seen him. He made sure my body enjoyed our second time together. When I tried to avoid his eyes he would grab my hair and though not pulling it, he confined my head, all so he could watch me. It was an unspoken game between the two of us, each one sought to assert dominance over the other. In the end he lost his harsh mask and I lost all fear.
Afterwards he collapsed on top of me, his head on my chest. We were too exhausted to move, and though his body was heavy over mine, the weight was somehow comforting. Instinctively I placed my arms around him, my hands smoothing his shoulders. I do not know how long we lay there in each other's arms; all I know is that it was nice to be held for once.
I looked at the bright red letters of the alarm clock on the bedside. I had gotten in his car over five hours ago.
"I have to go." I said and he made a soft male sound in his throat that sounded like a no. But then he rolled over placing his arm over his eyes. I turned my back on him and began getting up from the bed. But I felt his arm around my waist, forcing me to lie down again. It pulled me against the wall of his chest.
"Your at fifteen hundred, darling, you want to keep on?" I stared at the empty wall across from me and felt nothing but the weight of his arm around my waist and the warmth of his body behind me. I knew such numbness could only be temporary.
"Yeah." He said what seemed like much later. "I am well off enough to afford you." His voice sounded as if sleep was claiming him. He pulled me closer to his and buried his face on the hollow of my neck. It wasn't long until I felt his body completely relax and his breathing deepen. It wasn't long until I closed eyes and sleep claimed me too.
Please Review, it only takes a second and I would like to know if I should continue : )