Page 15
Story: Ache For Her
She spat at me.
I moved my hands to her jaw, forcing it open and my cock inside. “You’re just a whore, an ugly one at that. Suck my cock.”
She looked up at me. Her jaw twitched, and I grabbed it fiercely before she could even think about biting down. Holding it there, I slid in and out of her mouth. I fucked her until she gagged on me, but I didn’t relent.
“All that money…the blind eye you gave to your grandfather’s business…it made you just like them. Someone who would do anything for their next hit without a care as to where it came from. That’s all you turned out to be. A rich junkie.”
I kept going until her mouth closed and her eyes fluttered into the back of her head.
She grabbed my ass and yanked me forward, taking all of me in.
“Fuck yes.”
She moaned, her tongue teasing my tip. The blood from her hands teased my skin wherever she touched, heightening my pleasure.
“Tell me,” I said as I ran my hand through her hair.
“I’m ugly,” she said, lapping me up. “I’m a whore. I’m a terrible person.”
Her hand came up to play with my balls. “That’s right,” I said, coaxing her on.
The more she played and sucked, the higher my balls drew up. At length, I grabbed her neck and held her to me as I spasmed inside her hot little mouth. She gobbled it up like I was fucking Thanksgiving dinner. Before I was spent, I pushed her away and came on her chest, rivulets spurting from my tip down to her bloody skin.
She stared up at me wide eyed. The innocence on her face wasn’t lost on me. There was terror there, and sadness. I swallowed, my conscience eating at me.
I looked away before I started feeling bad for her. She’d enabled her grandfather to do the kinds of things he did. No one told him it was wrong, so why would he stop? If just one person had told him that what he did was bad, maybe he would’ve decided to do something different. Maybe all those years ago when his son died and he was left with a beautiful granddaughter, but no. Money and power was everything to him.
She stared at me, her gaze narrowing, almost calculatingly so. It was as if she could see right down to my very soul. I wasn’t one to preach, but I knew what I was. I did what I did and soaked up every minute. I didn’t do it and then pretend I was something different, or put on rose-colored glasses, deciding to see what I did through prettier colored lenses. Nope. I was a fucking vamp. Evil was in my nature, and so was taking what I could get when I could get it. Right now, I still wanted nothing but revenge, even if it meant fucking up the mind of this enabler.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Eight
Delilah
My heart split down the center after Simon walked away. No, it wasn’t because he threw me away like I was last week’s trash. It was something much deeper than that.
I’d always looked up to my grandfather. Of course, I only saw the positive side of things. I saw the nice house and the cars. I saw how he was able to manipulate my life from being a broken girl with no parents to having everything I needed and more. Much, much more.
But it was all a lie. I was living high off other people’s broken dreams.
I knew what my grandfather did. I would never pretend I didn’t, but in the same token, I never much cared. I never saw the other side of it like Simon tried to show me. I never saw a family’s despair. Before, if someone was stupid enough to get hooked on drugs, I would’ve said it was their fault. But, that wasn’t everything, was it? What about the people that introduced the drugs to them? What about the people who were forced to take drugs? What about what my grandfather did to people like Simon’s mom? And here Simon was, living with that. He took that hatred and internalized it, making him barely human.
He wasn’t human.
He was a predator through and through. Broken, directionless, living from day-to-day off his pitiful fancies because of what was taken from him by my grandfather.
The pain festering in my heart was far worse than any pain Simon inflicted on me. I liked to think I was genuinely a nice person, but after today, after everything was so blatantly slapped in front of me, I couldn’t deny it. I’d been a selfish bitch, and I’d been wrong.
My grandfather’s stain was on me now.
My stomach lurched. Quickly, I crept toward the side of the couch. I gagged as my stomach unleashed what little contents it had in it, then I just dry heaved over the side until my eyes stung and my insides could only cramp.
Slowly, I pulled myself up and walked around the room. I caught myself in the mirror. Instead of crying at what I’d become, I just stared. All Simon had done was make my outside match my inside. I was an ugly person. I looked to my left, finding the hallway. I’d seen Simon move that way before. Careful not to touch the walls, I walked down it until I found a door that led to the bathroom.
I flicked on the light. It was harsh, stinging my irises. I blinked until I could finally stand to have my eyes open. Everything in here was pristine, top-of-the-line, just like my bathroom at home. I walked forward, my footprints making small bloody marks on the floor. I grasped hold of the shower curtain and pushed it aside before stepping onto the bright white porcelain. I fiddled with the faucet until hot spray came from the showerhead. It hit me in the face, making me gasp for air. Then, the water doused me, cleaning away the remnants of tonight. Hopefully it washed everything down the drain, never to return. Except the knowledge I now held. That was one thing I didn’t want to get rid of. In that moment, I swore I’d be a better person. Someone who cared about what happened to others.
My skin stung like tiny little needles had been stuck in one-by-one. I waited under the showerhead until the water ran clear, no more pink staining the tub. Then, I took the hotel offered shampoo and conditioner and began to clean myself up. I didn’t know why washing had suddenly seemed so important to me, but I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was pink and raw. In the places where Simon had cut me, I’d opened the wounds again. My skin was still somewhat numb from whatever his claws did to me, but eventually, they healed, leaving tiny little slices everywhere. Eventually, they would probably turn into puckered scars, white instead of the red of right now. I hope they stayed there forever, reminding me of the realization I just had.
I moved my hands to her jaw, forcing it open and my cock inside. “You’re just a whore, an ugly one at that. Suck my cock.”
She looked up at me. Her jaw twitched, and I grabbed it fiercely before she could even think about biting down. Holding it there, I slid in and out of her mouth. I fucked her until she gagged on me, but I didn’t relent.
“All that money…the blind eye you gave to your grandfather’s business…it made you just like them. Someone who would do anything for their next hit without a care as to where it came from. That’s all you turned out to be. A rich junkie.”
I kept going until her mouth closed and her eyes fluttered into the back of her head.
She grabbed my ass and yanked me forward, taking all of me in.
“Fuck yes.”
She moaned, her tongue teasing my tip. The blood from her hands teased my skin wherever she touched, heightening my pleasure.
“Tell me,” I said as I ran my hand through her hair.
“I’m ugly,” she said, lapping me up. “I’m a whore. I’m a terrible person.”
Her hand came up to play with my balls. “That’s right,” I said, coaxing her on.
The more she played and sucked, the higher my balls drew up. At length, I grabbed her neck and held her to me as I spasmed inside her hot little mouth. She gobbled it up like I was fucking Thanksgiving dinner. Before I was spent, I pushed her away and came on her chest, rivulets spurting from my tip down to her bloody skin.
She stared up at me wide eyed. The innocence on her face wasn’t lost on me. There was terror there, and sadness. I swallowed, my conscience eating at me.
I looked away before I started feeling bad for her. She’d enabled her grandfather to do the kinds of things he did. No one told him it was wrong, so why would he stop? If just one person had told him that what he did was bad, maybe he would’ve decided to do something different. Maybe all those years ago when his son died and he was left with a beautiful granddaughter, but no. Money and power was everything to him.
She stared at me, her gaze narrowing, almost calculatingly so. It was as if she could see right down to my very soul. I wasn’t one to preach, but I knew what I was. I did what I did and soaked up every minute. I didn’t do it and then pretend I was something different, or put on rose-colored glasses, deciding to see what I did through prettier colored lenses. Nope. I was a fucking vamp. Evil was in my nature, and so was taking what I could get when I could get it. Right now, I still wanted nothing but revenge, even if it meant fucking up the mind of this enabler.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Eight
Delilah
My heart split down the center after Simon walked away. No, it wasn’t because he threw me away like I was last week’s trash. It was something much deeper than that.
I’d always looked up to my grandfather. Of course, I only saw the positive side of things. I saw the nice house and the cars. I saw how he was able to manipulate my life from being a broken girl with no parents to having everything I needed and more. Much, much more.
But it was all a lie. I was living high off other people’s broken dreams.
I knew what my grandfather did. I would never pretend I didn’t, but in the same token, I never much cared. I never saw the other side of it like Simon tried to show me. I never saw a family’s despair. Before, if someone was stupid enough to get hooked on drugs, I would’ve said it was their fault. But, that wasn’t everything, was it? What about the people that introduced the drugs to them? What about the people who were forced to take drugs? What about what my grandfather did to people like Simon’s mom? And here Simon was, living with that. He took that hatred and internalized it, making him barely human.
He wasn’t human.
He was a predator through and through. Broken, directionless, living from day-to-day off his pitiful fancies because of what was taken from him by my grandfather.
The pain festering in my heart was far worse than any pain Simon inflicted on me. I liked to think I was genuinely a nice person, but after today, after everything was so blatantly slapped in front of me, I couldn’t deny it. I’d been a selfish bitch, and I’d been wrong.
My grandfather’s stain was on me now.
My stomach lurched. Quickly, I crept toward the side of the couch. I gagged as my stomach unleashed what little contents it had in it, then I just dry heaved over the side until my eyes stung and my insides could only cramp.
Slowly, I pulled myself up and walked around the room. I caught myself in the mirror. Instead of crying at what I’d become, I just stared. All Simon had done was make my outside match my inside. I was an ugly person. I looked to my left, finding the hallway. I’d seen Simon move that way before. Careful not to touch the walls, I walked down it until I found a door that led to the bathroom.
I flicked on the light. It was harsh, stinging my irises. I blinked until I could finally stand to have my eyes open. Everything in here was pristine, top-of-the-line, just like my bathroom at home. I walked forward, my footprints making small bloody marks on the floor. I grasped hold of the shower curtain and pushed it aside before stepping onto the bright white porcelain. I fiddled with the faucet until hot spray came from the showerhead. It hit me in the face, making me gasp for air. Then, the water doused me, cleaning away the remnants of tonight. Hopefully it washed everything down the drain, never to return. Except the knowledge I now held. That was one thing I didn’t want to get rid of. In that moment, I swore I’d be a better person. Someone who cared about what happened to others.
My skin stung like tiny little needles had been stuck in one-by-one. I waited under the showerhead until the water ran clear, no more pink staining the tub. Then, I took the hotel offered shampoo and conditioner and began to clean myself up. I didn’t know why washing had suddenly seemed so important to me, but I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was pink and raw. In the places where Simon had cut me, I’d opened the wounds again. My skin was still somewhat numb from whatever his claws did to me, but eventually, they healed, leaving tiny little slices everywhere. Eventually, they would probably turn into puckered scars, white instead of the red of right now. I hope they stayed there forever, reminding me of the realization I just had.