Erase Herゾごホ

最初 - first

Older men. Something about them entrances me, I can't help myself. Maybe I have daddy issues. Maybe I'm slightly more fucked up than your average teenager. Whatever the reasoning behind my obsession is, older men are my weakness. But whose to say this disgusting need doesn't go both ways? I mean what kind of thirty year old doesn't want to fuck the shit out a wide-eyed eighteen year old girl with no strings attached? They'd have to be crazy. From that first 2am Sunday night. Where I laid sprawled out across the bed of Pro Hero, Kamui Woods at a whopping seventeen when he was 29. Ever since then, I've been hopelessly addicted. Addicted to the scruffy beards filled with empty promises, tired eyes seeping a hunger only I could fill. So that's how I decided to spend my summer vacation. Getting my fill of older men, creating a collection.

I shifted from one foot to another, swaying my hips side to side as leaned against the bar counter of a place called, 'Sakura'. My personal stalking grounds. My eyes scanned the empty room. The low hum of music filling my ears as I looked over all the possible lovers for tonight. The very few men in 'Sakura', at 2am on a Tuesday night all seem preoccupied with woman on their arms. I pouted, not seeing an opening for me with any of them. That is until my lucky (e/c) landed on a man sitting in a booth across the room. I smirked to myself, adjusting my clothes as I made my way over to the lone man. Pulling down my top, hiking up my skirt a little more than normal. It was a routine almost. Once I had reached the man, I slid into the seat across from him, trying to see more of his face. Trying to see if he was worthy.

"Drinking alone on a Tuesday night?" I asked, letting my hand rest on my cheek. The mysterious man didn't react too much to my words. He silently peered at me over the rim of his cup, his eyes analyzing me before blinking and looking away.

"Aren't you a little young to be in a bar?" He mumbled, adjusting the scarf around his neck to cover his mouth.

"Aren't you a little young to be this senile?" I snapped back, tucking a couple of (h/c) strands behind my ear. The man scoffed, his lips pressing against his cup once more.

"Get lost kid." He sighed, turning his body to the edge of the booth. I scrunched up my nose at his reaction. Was I not forward enough?  I swung my legs out of my seat as well, my elbows on my knees as I tilted my head to see his face better.

"What, are you some big shot pro hero who thinks I'm not worth his time?" I snapped with a huff. The man didn't react to my tone, still staring off into the distance. I felt my lips pucker as his lack of attention frustrated me. I spun back to face forward, slamming my hands on the table gently. "Well I've never seen you on tv before, so I doubt you're worth my time." I tossed my (h/l) over my shoulder, my eyes fixating on the man, who now, seemed rather annoyed. He let out a deep sigh, placing his cup back on the table, and running his hands through his long black hair. Inadvertently moving the strands of raven out of his face a bit more for me to see. My eyes widened at the sight of his pale skin, littered with black stubble. He was handsome.

"Look," He began, tugging at that grey scarf around his neck, "I've had a really shit night kid, can you just tell me what you want and leave?" His eyes met mine and I kind of felt bad for him for a moment. There was a tiredness in them, one I haven't seen in any of my other victims. A silent sorrow behind a mask of duty. He had to be a pro hero who's seen some shit. I shook my head, clearing my throat so I could be direct.

"Sex." I said bluntly. The man rose an eyebrow, not too phased by my forwardness. He seemed to think about it for a bit, eyeing me up and down, his gaze eating away at my curves.

"I don't hire people for that sort of thing." He finally said and my eyes widened.

"How could you assume-." I cut myself off to stop my ranting, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. "I don't want money. We want the same thing."

"That is?" He asked and I smiled softly. Standing so my thighs pressed against the edge of the table, my torso pressing against the surface below as I closed more distance between us, reaching over and letting my fingers hook into his scarf, lightly pulling it further away from his mouth.

"A distraction."

Now I know all about stranger danger, my dad is kind of a big deal in the justice system. And following the strange man dressed in all black to his apartment probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it was definitely the best.

I laid in bed on my back beside the man I had met just a few hours ago, my hunger finally filled. I was gently heaving, sweat glistening off my skin as I listened to the soft sounds of his breaths beside me. The lamp on his nightstand provided dim lighting for his room as I glanced over. He was staring up at the ceiling, a small frown playing on his lips with his hair spread around his head. He seems distracted. Almost as if being with me had only numbed the pain he felt for a moment. I furrowed my eyebrows, sitting up and stretching my arms. His problems, are nout mine. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved.

"Well, thanks for the good time." I yawned, leaning down and picking up my clothing that was scattered across his bedroom floor. He hummed at my words as I got dressed. The silence was borderline horrifying. I waited silently for him to say something, anything similar to those I had been with before. Usually the men would beg for my name, my number, something to find me once again. To use me once again. But nothing came from this mans mouth. Maybe he didn't enjoy me as much as I enjoyed him? I frowned at the thought. "I'll show myself out." The sound of rustling from the bed caused me to turn around and look at him. He had tied the mop of black on his head into a bun and was looking me over with an uncertain look on his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but his mouth quickly shut. I nodded, taking that as his own version of a goodbye. I gathered the rest of my stuff and ventured off into the cold, misty morning of 4am. I hugged myself to shield the cold as I walked down the sidewalk with my legs a little shakier than normal. I gently brought my fingers up to my lips, remembering the way his beard pricked and tickled my face as he consumed me with kisses. His lips, his kisses. They were different. Different from the others. They weren't sloppy, or hungry. But they were desperate. I wonder for what. I stopped walking once I reached the bus stop, sitting down at the bench, staring up into the night sky. The sex. I felt my knees press together at the remembrance of the feeling he gave me. Would it be wrong if I had gotten his name? His number? I bit my lip, glancing back down the street from where I came. I sighed, seeing my breath form a cloud in front of me. Maybe we'll meet again.

Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.