"Heartbreak After Daybreak"

Connected Through Our Misery

He cooed as he welcomed her inside gladly, “Hello, my little angel.”

Angelique was a rather curvy woman with a nice round ass and plump breasts. She was modeling a very sexually arousing black lace thong connected to fishnet tights; she was also wearing black stilettos and a black lace, thirty-six C-sized, push-up bra. Her hair was elegantly styled in a Brazilian blowout, her lashes were volumized to bring out her sapphire-coloured eyes, and her long acrylic nails were painted a sparkling onyx black hue. To say the bare minimum, she appeared to be a very sexy, voluptuous, Victoria’s Secret model, except without the two bottles of beer in her hands.

“Why, hello, sugar,” she responded, clopping sounds rang as she stepped inside his humble abode. “Hmm, I guess it took you quite some time because of that fine tux you’re wearing,” she noticed. “If I weren’t a high-paid prostitute, I’d think you were suiting up to ask my hand in marriage…” She looked up at him, a greater expectation lingering in the depths of her eyes; she placed her hands delicately on his buff chest. He tensed. “I could do something about that….” She pressed her lips against his, his breath hitching in his throat as her tongue swarmed his mouth like an infectious plague. “I’ve missed your familiar taste, sugar.” Her hands trailed down over his clothed cock, and he flinched.

“Come on, my little angel, it’s time we head to bed,” he said as he glanced at his wristwatch, pulling away from her, nervous and rather intimidated. He took the lead down the staircase; she followed him in close proximity, her footsteps echoing.

“Oh, it’s about time you started to play the dominant role!” she praised him as she followed him around the pool table in the billiard’s room next to a refurbished granite bar counter. Marilyn purchased it when she had achieved her six-month CEO status at the USAWTBC. “Such fine granite,” she said as she ran her fingertips across the countertop. “We’ve had some great drinks here, haven’t we, sugar?” He ignored her as he lead her into his large, modernized bedroom. He flipped the switch on his bedside table lamp, the golden light bathing the room in its pure glory, and he pried the two bottles of beer from her grasp and placed them side by side under the lamp on the table, the opalescent light scintillating off the glass bottles. He ensconced himself on the bed; Angelique took a seat upon his sturdy lap. “You seem a little…,” she skimmed his bottom lip with her right index finger lustfully, “tense,” she enticed him. “Why don’t you pop one of these open, sugar?” She leaned back and pulled a beer bottle from the table; he snatched it from her, popped the bottle cap as it flung onto the white carpeting, and took a monstrous gulp of the beer. “Sugar! Slow down!” she exclaimed. “Leave some for me!” Flirtatious giggles escaped her.

“Hey, I need this more than you do,” he swallowed abruptly, slamming the empty bottle onto the bedside table next to the full one.

“Oh, sugar, don’t beat yourself up. Focus on the good things you have here: a son, your dashingly handsome looks, and a sexy single woman in lingerie…,” she told him flirtatiously, running her hands on his stubbly cheeks. “Now, come on. Let’s have some fun and forget about that terrible news! Trust me. You’ll feel better once I get you turned on…” She tugged on his silky red tie and stood up to kiss him. She pulled on his lower lip roughly, sucking and biting; he pulled away cautiously.

“Angelique, I can’t do this sober,” he confessed, eyes stone-cold. “I just can’t.”

“You’ve never had a problem with this before,” she stated skeptically. “What’s with you? Why are you treating me like you don’t want me? Am I just an object that you can just discard at your own pleasure?” He removed her from him, rising from his bed, aimlessly pacing over into the shadows of the far room to gaze hopelessly out of a window, the curtains drawn back to either side.

“It’s just…,” He exhaled, exasperated.

“It’s just what, Franklin?” she asked with a sharp tongue. He eyed her; then, he returned his attention to the window.

“It’s just that I can’t believe she’s gone…” His voice sank. “I also can’t believe that I couldn’t control myself, that I had to keep running back to you as you had said. I should be a better father than this. My son may be only six, but if he saw me with another woman, I don’t think he could ever trust me again,” he emphasized, “but I don’t suspect you to understand…”

“It’s because of my career, isn’t it?” she demanded, striding towards him, her heels boring imprints into the carpeting. She faced him with a killer glare, shadows wrapping themselves around her facial features and her lithe body, her eyes like a burning blue flame. “You don’t think I understand all the lies, cheats, and secrets that run wild in these streets of Manhattan?” She threw her hands drastically up into the air, and they collapsed at her sides.

“That doesn’t matter! It matters that you don’t seem to understand family.” Her face froze; she retreated and plopped down onto the bed, facing away from him as she stared into space.

“My family doesn’t know who I truly am,” she spoke. “My mother always wanted me to fit in with society. She wanted me to be beautiful, wealthy, and popular,” she paused as she heard the bed groan, feeling it sink in on itself, “but she said that would never happen because I’m useless, worthless. I’m a pathetic little bitch, but why would you care? You’re just like all the other wealthy men. You just want to fuck me…”

“It’s because of my career, isn’t it?” he countered softly as he wrapped his arms around her neck, hovering over her as he held her tight. “You think that just because I’m a lawyer that I don’t understand worthlessness?” She peered up at him with a look flooding with eminent empathetic sorrow, and she turned her body to face him, her long legs dangling over the bed. “I’m alone without her for about nine months at a time with a son who’s becoming increasingly psychotic! I’m a lawyer with a heart; we were children once, too…” He lifted her chin with the aid of his index finger and thumb of his right hand, and he smiled warmly at her. “Angelique, we can solve this case together. Forget the beer. This is a night I want to remember…” He leaned in, taking her face with his hands, her hands reaching up to seek his, and he kissed her long and passionately with vehement desire. He then held held her around the waist with just his right hand and laid her delicately down onto the soft bed as his tongue entranced her, setting the deep kiss aflame; she pressed her body against his as her arms wrapped securely around the nape of his neck, her legs spread wide, knees bent.

“You know what sugar?” she whispered to him as she ran her fingers through his short, slicked back, dark brown hair as his hands reached behind her back to unclip the chiplets of her bra.

“Hmm?” he hummed as he threw her bra onto the floor, his mouth and tongue hardening her nipple as he sucked, nibbled, and toyed with it, causing her to moan with pleasure.

“In the morning, I’m going to give them a call, telling them that I quit my job because I’ve found what I’ve been looking for,” she smiled as he ran his tongue and lips over the skin on the right side of her neck, “and what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time…”