I walked down the streets of downtown New York, humming a tune. It was after dark, and I was on my way to the bar to get spit drunk. My girlfriend broke up with me about a week ago. We were so close, we'd been together for years, she knew every inch of me. Dare I say she knew me better than I know myself,even.
She just... Just dropped me. On the phone. Through a text. Nothing happened with us, no arguments, I sure as hell wasn't getting bored with her; so I headed to the bar to get spit drunk,to feel something other than this misery.
I don't know why, but I picked the worst one possible. I was dressed in nice hole-free pants and an expensive leather jacket, but I walked into the pub I knew was filled with the fat jerks playing pool, the kind of guys that'd rape a girl if one was blind enough to walk in. I pushed open the door and ignored the eyeballs as the place quieted to mumbling. I sat down at the bar and heard them start talking about motorcycles or dome shit, so I ordered.
"I'd like whiskey, please," I told the man. He raised an eyebrow but poured the white lightning into a shot glass with the state of New Jersey printed on it in red with words I didn't care to remember. He placed the drink in front of me and started to put the rest back before I stopped him.
"Wait," I said," just... Just give me the bottle."
He hesitated,"Are you sure,sir?" He cautioned.
"Yea. I'm really, really sure," I told him and took out a twenty from my wallet and handed it to him. "Keep the change."
After finishing my first shot, I just drank from the bottle. I guess the bartender was worried I was a violent drunk because he hovered by the phone and kept moving his eyes from the muts in the back to me. Again, I ignored it.
I was almost halfway done with the bottle when a boy came in. Dressed in black skinny jeans, a gray shirt, and converse, he came and sat on the stool next to me. I was sober enough to see he had a short black side fringe, a lip ring, and his face had small features that still perfectly fitted him. He looked at me and smiled so I returned a grin and ran my fingers through my own black hair.
"I'll just have a Miller," he says to the bartender, and I try to keep my eyes off of him, but damn is it hard to do. I figure its because I'm drunk, but I truly don't think its fantasy. He's just my type, if he acts as he looks.
"You look pretty beat up, did your girl leave you?" He asks, and his accuracy makes me jump in my seat. How did he...
"Y-yea... Pretty hard. Came here to forget it, to feel something besides the aftermath of it all."
"I understand," he continued. He took a long drink from his cup," My name's Frank by the way."
"Frank," I tried out," I'm Gerard." He nodded his head and half-smiled. I stared at my bottle. I closed my eyes and lowered my head. Nothings going to work, at least not booze. I need to feel good, happy, not numb.
"I can help with your little situation," he casually said staring at the rack of margarita mixes on the wall. "I charge $80 by the hour with protection, 100 without. But I'll cut you a break. $70 for the night with me all to yourself."
I looked up as I realized what he was talking about.I was just too drunk to realize it was probably a bad thing to do. I raised an eyebrow said that one word, "Deal."
"Sweet. Come with me then." I didn't understand. A part of me didn't want him to be this, so used, so impure, but still so perfect. I got up and followed him to the back of the bar and into the bathroom. He headed into the 3rd stall, a small one. They didn't have a handicapped one. The stall covered everything, it went all the way to the floor and all the way to the roof, and there was a real door on it. I thought it was fancy compared to the rest of the place.
I walked into the stall after him and closed the door behind me with a "click". His back was against the wall and I walked over and kissed him hard on the lips, but still soft. I put my hand on the wall by his waist and continued. "Damn, he's a good kisser," I thought, but I savored every moment of getting this boy all to myself.
I had his body to myself for the rest of the night, and I sure as hell wasn't going to rush into this.
We kissed like that for what seemed like an eternity, lips moving with the others', his hand on my hip, urging me towards him; my body against his, connected with him. I traced his lower lip with my tongue before curiously putting it in his mouth. The taste of my whiskey and his beer mingled with each other on our dancing tongues.
I took my hand from his jaw and played with his shirt, tracing the hems with my index finger. I ran my finger down his shirt until I reached the bottom, then slid my cold hand up and around his torso, letting is rest on his back, pulling him closer to me. He moaned behind our kiss and on instinct I thrusted into him.
He put his own hands behind my back, we were pulled into an embrace. I then took my other hand and whisked off his gray shirt and held it tight around my right hand, breaking our lips for only a second before returning to probe my tongue into his.
He unzipped my leather jacket for me and I slipped it off, letting it fall somewhere on the tile floor, and then he took off my shirt.
I pushed back into him to continue our kiss as my cold chest met his warm torso and our hands explored each others body. His palms pressed down into the knots in my back, making me flinch in the pain but also push into it in pleasure. I held him by the waist, keeping him close, never letting him go.
His covered bulge ground up against mine as he rubbed and trusted himself into my clothed crotch. I moved my hand from his hip to his package before undoing his button and zipper, as I bring his pants down and I get on my knees.
He pushes a hand through my tangled hair as I begin to rub his bulge with my palm and nibble the white cloth of his tight briefs causing him to make little gasps and moans. I slowly pull down his underwear and keep my eyes on the prize.
He makes a low groan as I wrap one hand around his member and moved it up and down a few times. I opened my mouth to take him in it, but right as the very tip of my lower lip hit the tip of him, his hand tightened around my black hair and pulled me straight up and in front of his face.
He pushed his head by my ear and whispers," this is all for you, baby, don't worry about me."
I was sober now.
He nibbled my jawline, leaving little wet, red marks along the way. He cupped my throbbing package in his hand, each touch making me twitch with need.
"If its truly all about me..." I trailed off into his ear. I turned him around and pushed his back down, putting his cheek up against the wall. I held him by the waist to keep him steady as I entered him from behind.
He let out a low moan and I dropped my head back, my sweaty hair stuck to the sides if my face as I backed up, then trusted in again. I bit my lips as I sped up the pace, him gasping and clawing at the wall and me biting my lips and moaning louder than I wanted to.
He swore under his breath as I continued to increase speed, now pounding into him, hitting his prostate with every thrust. The little slut mumbled what sounded like,"more," so I wrapped one hand around his raging cock and ribbed it up and down in time with myself.
His knees shook and buckled together as his toes curled in and out. His head was against the wall still, his hair falling in his small face. His mouth was open and released shaky breaths rapidly.
I let out a loud yell as finished just after him, his cum poured onto the floor, just missing our clothes and I shot myself deep into him. After I second, I pulled out and turned him around to face me. I pulled his chest against mine, held his chin with my thumb and index finger, and planted one long kiss against his wet lips.
His knees gave way, and he would've fell if I hadn't held him up. I lowered ourselves to the ground and let him rest his head on my shoulder, both of us still breathing heavily now on the cold floor. I looked at his face and read...despair.
I realized why. He thought he'd been used. He's a prostitute, he probably thinks that every time this happens. He thought I was just going to leave him like a toy I got bored with.
With my arms around his short frame, I kissed his damp hair.
"We should hang out sometime. I'd love to get to know you." He looked up at me with the mist grateful and hopeful look in his eyes I'd ever seen. I just smiled.
