Pain and Pictures

Chapter 2- Run

I got it!

I got the best picture of Violet Monroe to ever grace a magazine or paper.

She was pissed!

Her bodyguard actually ran after me. I'd been threatened before, but never had I needed to run for my life (at least not from a pampered princess and her giant knight).

Thankfully I lived only four blocks away, and knew this area very well.

The real threat wasn't to my person, but to my camera. It was expensive! Like more than most people make in a year, expensive. It was the only thing I had been able to take with me after being fired from the national publication I'd worked for. Plus it was tied to me, in a very emotionally way.

I was not going to let anyone touch my camera! I would actually gladly delete any photo I took, if it meant I didn't lose my baby. I mean my camera.

Lancelot kept at it, I had to give him credit, he serves his mistress well.

I ducked into an the alley next to our building. I was so thankful I'd insisted on attaining keys to the back door of the club.

As quietly as I could, I unlocked the huge metal door and slid inside.

"Hey! You! You can't be in here!"

A busty brunette walked out of the storage room to my right, she was holding a case of vodka. She was gorgeous, but not my type.

If a woman has boobs so big, they cause her back pain... I move on. I don't need that constant whining about how much their back hurts. I'm not an asshole, I just can't stand complaining about things you have no control over.

I complain, yes. But it has everything to do with shit I did. I got here, I'm gonna get out. Period.

Betty Fucking Boop sets the case of vodka on the counter and looks me up and down. I hadn't said a word, and she was obviously annoyed.

So I turned on the charm.

"So sorry. I actually live upstairs, see, here's my key."

I dangled the keys in front of her, like you would a child, or cat.

I suppressed a laugh when she watched them, just like said child/cat.

"Sorry to barge in. I saw my ex out front, she broke my heart, and I just couldn't stand to see her. I'm just not ready. You know?"

Bingo! The hear broken sob story always worked. Every time.

"Oh, sweetie! How could anyone break up with you? You're hot, sweet, and obviously very..... good."

Wow, she's really bad at words.

"I do what I can. But it's been so long since I've been with anyone else. I just want to get over her."

The look on her face told me everything I needed to know. Sure, she's not my type, but that does not mean I'll pass up a hearty fuck.

"Want to help me get something out of storage? I'm too short to reach some stuff."

"I'm more than happy to help."

I'd say it was about two minutes later when I was balls deep inside her.

Thankfully I had an extra condom in my back pocket, no way in hell was I going bareback here. She was so fucking loose! Either she fucks constantly, or someone with a super thick dick makes regular pit stops.

It really doesn't matter. She's bent over the shelf in the dark room, and I'm slamming into her as hard as I can.

Fuck, I needed this.

I hadn't realized how long it had been until I was cleaning myself off. Maybe three months? Shit, it had been far too fucking long.

What's her name tried to kiss me afterwards, but she reeked of cigarettes, gross. Plus, kissing is way too intimate for a quick fuck.

She wasn't happy, but I assured her that I just wasn't ready to kiss another girl, you know, because of the break-up.

I was grinning like an idiot, I'm sure she thought it was because of the sex, but it was really the lie. I haven't had a girlfriend since high school. There's no point to getting chained to another person. Once I'm back into true journalism, I'm outta here.