DILF 》fp jones

2.

"You're not meant to be touching me, Mr Jones." Cherry moaned, as his lips danced down her neck.

She was grinding on him, her skirt riding up and her bralette thrown across the room. Her face full of a grin, she'd missed his touch.

"Why aren't you stopping me then?" He mumbled against her skin. She sucked at her bottom lip and breathed jaggedly out her nose at the friction from his jeans that rubbed against her clit.

She stopped moving against him and he pulled away from her wet skin and looked up at her, confused. "I'm leaving in the New Year." She sighed. He was silent. He gripped tighter on her hips. "I just wanted to tell you." She looked down, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. FP Jones was the only thing in this town that didn't care that she was who she was. A fucked up Blossom kid. A stray from an organised Wolf pack.

FP didn't know what to say. He wanted to say, 'then let's make these next few weeks worth remembering', but he couldn't. It was dangerous to love this girl. It was dangerous for him to admit the love he had for this girl. Because she didn't love him back. FP Jones and Cherry Blossom were purely casual, they used each other, to de-stress, to fuck, to feel something in their normally dead lives. Well FP's was dead without her. Cherry's was full of other men, just like FP. Old men coming in to the club just to see her, just for an hour in their boring lives she would pay attention to them. They hung on to every sultry word she ever said, and believed every drip of seduction she fed them. She was convincing. She spelled them into believing she actually wanted them and FP was just one of those fools.

The beads pulled back, they always twinkled less when anyone other than Cherry moved them. "Times up, Cherry. We need the room. You need to start serving." An older stripper called over to them.

FP sighed. He'd wasted his time. But this happened all the time, sometimes he just wanted to look at her. Kiss her once then stare into her eyes, hopelessly searching for any emotional feeling she had towards him.

Cherry hopped off his lap and found her bralette in the corner of the room. FP watched as she put it on, mesmerised by every movement she made.

"You staying for a bit?" She picked up her leather jacket and swung it over her shoulder. "I've got a show later." FP smiled, shoved on his own leather jacket and nodded.

Cherry held open the beads for him to exit, and they twinkled, almost like Cherry was giving them life, just like how everytime she touched FP Jones she made him feel alive.

FP looked back, just about seeing Cherry's movements through the cracks in the beads. He sighed, and walked towards the bar, ordering the strongest drink they had. He needed it.

Cherry ran a hand through her hair. She sat down on the sofa, exactly where FP previously was. The seat was still warm. She fiddled with a wipe in her hand. She didn't want to leave him. And she hated admitting that to herself. Cherry saw his loneliness, it was more striking than the other men that wandered into the club. FP's loneliness effected her, it drove a pain through her chest. The way he looked at the girl, even made her feel less lonely, almost like she believed someone in this world could actually love her. She shook her head, trying to shake those thoughts away, thoughts of love, love was pathetic, love didn't exist, love led to betrayal and pain and death.

She stood up and wiped FP's warmth from the seat. The room was now fresh and clean for the next client. And once again, Cherry had wiped away every feeling she had towards the man.

He was sat at the bar, hunched over his drink. His southside jacket was getting old. She wanted to touch him, but she wasn't allowed to. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but she didn't allow herself to. She walked behind the bar, taking over from Delilah.

FP didn't look up. His eyes burned down at the liquor that was burning him. The stool beside him became occupied, and Cherry stared, almost killing him with a simple look, as her cousin sat beside the serpent.

Jason cleared his throat, but FP still didn't look up. "Mr Jones?" Jason's voice trembled. FP ignored him, until the Blossom child called him again. He looked at Jason, more deathly than Cherry had. Jason gulped. It was only Cherry that could see kindness in those eyes, everybody else saw...something else.

Jason shuffled on his seat. "Mr Jones, I want to ask you a favour?" FP stayed quiet. Shooting glares at the high school student. Jason breathed in to carry on, but Cherry slammed her hand down in front of him.

"Don't you dare!" Cherry growled at her younger cousin. He looked at her, defeated by her warning. "Jason, go home, it's late. I don't want you to get in trouble." He sighed tipping the cola drenched ice cube into his mouth and chewing on it. He climbed off his chair.

"I'll see you at the house." He smiled weakly and left the strip club.

"Sorry." Cherry muttered. FP shook his head. He looked back down at his drink, he didn't want to look at her, because everytime he did he melted and he wasn't willing to do that surrounded by the prying eyes of the southside.

"You want another?" Cherry nodded to his glass which had less than a mouthful left, which had been that way since she had slipped behind the bar.

"I should really cut down." He picked up the glass slightly, and rolled the bottom of it on the bar. He tapped his fingers on the side of the glass and heard a clicking, his eyes drifted to the dirty, gold wedding ring. He sighed then tipped the rest of the drink down his throat. "So I'll another, please." 

He could feel the ring now. Now that he'd looked at it, he could feel it burning him, singeing his finger. He twisted it around his finger, loosening it. Gladys Jones had finally left her good for nothing husband, taking his beloved daughter with him, because she knew that would only destroy him more.

Cherry watched her lover, twist the ring around his finger over an over again. She pulled her eyes away and made him a drink, placing her crazy concoction of organ destroying alcohol in front of him. 

FP Jones was slowly dying behind the eyes and the one person who could see it, the one person who could fix it, was leaving him, just like everyone did in the end. Because FP Jones was just another thing Cherry Blossom could leave behind.