The Stories We Whisper at Night

by Sky Corgan

  “Aww, Knox. That's so sweet.” She melts beside me.

  We're both grinning like lunatics. It makes me feel like a teenage boy all over again, when I thought that I was first discovering love. That wasn't love back then though. That was lust. Meeting a girl and stupidly thinking that you'd be together forever after just talking for a short while. This is real love. Marcy and I have been together for over six months, and I still get that giddy feeling every time I walk through the door to my apartment and see her there.

  “Don't ever leave me, Marcy.” I caress her cheek, gazing down into her blue eyes. They're so intense, so filled with affection.

  “I won't, Knox.” She shakes her head. “Not ever. Not unless you don't want me anymore.”

  “I could never not want you. I'm…” I hesitate on the words. More like they catch in my throat. I've never said them to a woman before and actually meant them. It's all just been pillow talk. This is real. Too real.

  She reaches up and takes the words from me with a kiss, her mouth moving hungrily on top of mine. I can't tell if she couldn't wait, or if she knew what I was going to say. Whatever the case, I'm thankful for the distraction.

  I wrap my arms around her and tangle my hands in her hair. I love her hair. It's so silky and smooth between my fingers.

  “You're wearing too much,” she grumbles against the side of my mouth as we break free from each other. I can't help but smile as she gropes for the bottom of my shirt. I lean back just enough so that she can find it and pull it over my head.

  “Are you trying to get me naked?” I tease.

  She nods unabashedly, tossing my shirt to the side and immediately moving to unbuckle my belt. She's in the mood, and she's not going to stop until she gets what she wants from me. All I want is her. Just to be with her.

  I watch her take my pants off, staring at her in adoration. It feels like I'm soaking her in, like she's an orgasm for the senses. I think about the softness of her skin, the way her lips feel against mine. How did I ever get so lucky?

  “Are you all right?” she asks, noticing that I'm staring.

  “I'm fine. I'm sorry. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are and how lucky I am.”

  This seems to please her. Her smile turns more sensual. She stands up and begins undressing for me slowly. I take in the display, letting my eyes trail down the buttons of her yellow blouse as she unfastens them one at a time, exposing the white lace bra beneath. These days, she doesn't wear anything near as sexy as she did when she was a call girl, but I still enjoy it.

  When the shirt is unbuttoned, she presses her shoulder blades back and allows it to fall from her body. Then she pulls down the skirt she's wearing and steps out of it.

  I grin as she covers her body with her hands. I'm not sure why she's acting so shy. It's not like I haven't seen it all before.

  “Do you like what you see?” She knows the answer without even having to ask. What's going on inside my boxers is proof of that.

  “Come here, beautiful girl.” I hold my arms out to her.

  “Not yet.” She reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra. It falls to her feet. Then she takes off her panties, rendering herself naked before walking over and carefully lowering herself onto my lap.

  I slide my hands around her waist, loosely holding her there as we gaze into each other's eyes. She leans down to kiss me, and my body awakens at her touch. Her lips are soft and wanton. I can taste the faint waxiness of her lip gloss. It doesn't distract me. She wraps her arms around my neck and presses into me deeper, sliding her tongue over my bottom lip to seek entry into my mouth. I give it to her, and for a while we just sit there, savoring the taste of each other. When we finally break free from the kiss, we both look so in love.

  “I need you inside of me, Knox,” she purrs, straddling me and writhing on my lap. It's tortuously good.

  “I love it when you say my name like that,” I confess. I do. It only sounds good coming from her lips.

  “Make me say it louder,” she begs.

  Her hand slips inside the fly of my boxers, drawing me out. My cock throbs in her grasp, my need for her completely transparent. She gives me a few warmup strokes, licking her lips as her eyes bear into mine with an intense lusty gaze.

  “Come here.” I grab her hips and pull her up on top of me. She guides my glans to her pussy and presses me inside, letting her weight fall. Then she grips the back of the sofa and begins to ride me.

  My body is too greedy to let her have all the fun. I wrap my hands around her ass and push up into her over and over again. Eventually, she just holds onto the sofa for support and allows me to do most of the work. Within seconds, she's all moans.

  I cage her in my arms, taking full control. Topping from the bottom has always exhausted me, but I push myself to my limits, needing to make her come. She rewards me with tiny moans and gasps and the occasional curse word before she finally cries out, and I know she's losing herself.

  “Knox, oh God, don't stop. Don't stop.” She moves on top of me, matching my thrusting for a few brief seconds before she shouts my name so loud that the entire complex can probably hear it.

  I'd take a moment to gloat, but I can feel my own climax racing to the surface. My body works on overdrive to catch up. I press my fingers into her hips, holding her at the perfect angle as I drive myself into her until the friction breaks me. As quickly as I can manage, I pull myself out, releasing my pleasure onto my stomach.

  Marcy brushes my hand away from my cock, taking over to squeeze out the last few drops. For some reason, she's always loved to be the one to finish me off. It's like she can't be satisfied with just watching me come. She has to feel it. I suppose I understand.

  My eyes dart between her face and my dick. I exhale heavily as I'm drained completely, then I let my head fall back, breathing out my satisfaction. Marcy's body shifts on top of me, and her tongue laps up my Adam's apple. She nibbles on my throat a bit before lazily draping her arms around my sides and resting her body against mine. We're definitely going to need a shower after this.

  “Mmm, Knox, it's always so good,” she whispers into my ear. “I've been with a lot of men, but none have ever pleased me like you do.”

  “I love you.” It's misplaced and comes out a jumbled mess, rocketing from my lips, unable to be contained. I hate myself for not waiting for a better time to say it. But there it is.

  Her fingers tense on my waist a bit. I can feel her face changing expression, since her chin is resting on my shoulder. I can't tell what that expression is though. She leans into me, pressing her hair into the crook of my neck. The words sound almost bashful as she says, “I love you too.”

  I embrace her like I'll never let her go. Our hearts beat fiercely against each other, and I can't tell if it's from exertion or emotion. It's very surreal.

  “Stay with me. Wherever I move, come with me. Be with me. I love you,” I tell her.

  “Yes.” The smile is clear in her voice. “I will stay with you. Wherever you go, I will go.”

  “Good.” My body relaxes. I never thought I was going to get that all out, but now that I have, I feel so much better. It's like a weight has been lifted off my chest. “Now, let's go take a shower.”

  She pulls away from me, grinning, her happiness brightening up the room. “You got it, stud.”

  ***

  The next few days are spent walking on cloud nine. Marcy and I are actually beginning to act like a couple, which is odd but enjoyable. It's like our relationship has shifted in the span of one night and a few words. We're more affectionate toward one another. A lot more like lovers and less like roommates who have sex.

  Since I still don't trust the offer Miss White made me, I continue working at the bar until she gives me my first assignment. The job is easy enough. All I have to do is pick up one of the call girls from the office and take her to the client's location. Then I have to drop her off wherever she wants afterward. Since Miss White doesn't find my truck sufficient, she r
ents a car for the evening. She says that if things work out with me, she'll either form a contract with the rental agency for discount pricing, or she'll buy vehicles for me to drive the girls around in. I don't care. It's not my money. Not my business.

  She also outfits me and the girl of the night with cell phones, in case there's an emergency and I need to rush to her aid. It's a start to ensuring the safety of the call girls. Better than what they had before, which was nothing. The phone is only to be used for the girl to call me or for me to call Miss White. It's understandable, and a rule that's easy to follow. I don't have anyone else to call anyway except for Marcy, and she already knows what I'm doing.

  The girl I'll be chauffeuring around tonight is named Chastity, as ironic as that sounds. Miss White introduces me as her escort, but judging by the apprehension in Chastity's eyes, Miss White told her something else when I wasn't around. After all, my job is also to keep the girls in line and make sure they don't default on their contracts. I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to do that, but it doesn't sound particularly pleasant. I'll try not to think about it now. I consider myself more of a protector than a disciplinarian. Hopefully, my imposing presence will be enough to keep the girls on track.

  After we leave, I find myself staring in the rear-view mirror, wondering what's going on in Chastity's mind. I'm not supposed to talk to her, which is a bit difficult. She's young and beautiful, but she holds no interest for me outside of business. I'm devoted to Marcy, and that's not going to change. I would like to know if she feels safer knowing that I'll have her back if something goes wrong. I want to ask her, but I don't, too afraid that she'll tell Miss White and that I'll get fired. I'm not allowed to speak to the girls unless it's business-related, and Miss White said that the less I say, the better. For a while, at least, it would probably be best if I keep my mouth shut.

  I drop Chastity off in front of a high-end hotel downtown. Then I wait around until she's done her business, killing time by reading the newspaper and watching people as they come and go. It's boring, if truth be told, but I'm not allowed to move too far away from the location. Those are the rules. If I'm to be any type of decent protection, I need to be able to get to the girl within a matter of minutes.

  After four hours, Chastity re-emerges from the building. She looks a bit unkempt, but otherwise no worse than when she went in. I smile and try to be friendly as I help her into the back of the car. She's still leery of me though. It bugs me a bit. Certainly, I can't be any worse than the guy she just went to see. There's no point in getting my feelings hurt over something so trivial.

  I take Chastity home and return to the office. Everything goes smoothly. I can't help but wonder if every night will be like this. Well, not every night, but most of them. If that's the case, this will be easy money. Who doesn't like easy money?

  The office is closed down for the night except for Miss White's office. It feels almost eerie walking through the place, knowing that we're the only two people here. For the briefest of moments, I worry that she might have set me up. The atmosphere is way too discrete, and the closer I get to her office, the more uncomfortable I feel.

  When I reach it though, the door is wide open. It's only Miss White inside, leaning back in her office chair with her bare feet propped up on her desk and a magazine resting on her lap. She looks way less professional than she did earlier in the day, dressed down into jeans and a T-shirt.

  I knock on the door frame to get her attention. My concern for myself shifts to worrying about her sitting in this office alone at night with the doors unlocked.

  “Oh good, you're back.” Her eyes shoot up to meet mine, and she pulls her feet off the desk to sit normally.

  I nod.

  “How did it go?” She sets the magazine on the desk and clasps her hands on top of it.

  “It went well.” I'm not sure how else it was supposed to have gone. “There weren't any issues.”

  “Good.” She rolls back in her chair and opens one of the desk drawers. “I suppose you expect to be paid now.”

  “That would be nice.” I still have no idea how much I'm getting paid. I just hope I'm not disappointed.

  She pulls out an envelope, opens it, and withdraws two bills before reaching to hand them to me. I take the money and look down at it, my mouth falling agape. Two hundred dollars. It's close to the figure I had in my head, but holding it in my hands is completely different. It doesn't feel real. I keep thinking that I'm going to blink, and they'll be tens instead of hundreds or that I'll realize I'm dreaming and wake up.

  “You've never seen that kind of money before, have you?” Miss White smirks, pleased with my reaction.

  “Not for so few hours, ma'am.” I wipe the shock off of my face and reach back to take my wallet out of my pocket, slipping the bills inside.

  “Well, Knox, there's a lot more where that came from, if you continue to do a good job.” She puts the envelope back in the drawer and closes it before looking up at me. I can see the exhaustion behind her eyes. As if on queue with my thoughts, she yawns. This is probably not something she normally does, staying up until after a girl finishes with her appointment.

  “You look tired.”

  “I'm fine.” She brushes off my comment, obviously not wanting to make idle chatter. “I'll have you with another girl tomorrow night. Consider this week a trial. If things continue to go well, we'll work it so that you escort more girls. Obviously, the more girls you escort a night, the more money you'll make.”

  Dollar signs roll in my head as she talks about the money. It's so much. I can't even imagine the earning potential. This job could change my life. It could make things better for Marcy and I. It could get us out of the ghetto.

  More than that though, I'm doing something with my life that matters. I'm going to be the shield that protects these girls from guys like Stephen Watson. I'm going to make sure that nothing like that ever happens again.

  “Let me walk you out,” I offer, still concerned about her leaving the building alone.

  “I'm not paying you extra for that.” Her voice is icy. It takes me a moment to realize that she's afraid of me. While I've been worrying that someone might mug her in the parking lot, she's been worrying that that someone will be me. I can't help but let out a short laugh at the thought.

  “Why are you laughing?” She scowls at me.

  “Nothing. Don't worry about it.” I shake my head. “I only want to walk you out so I know you'll be safe. You have nothing to fear from me. I don't bite the hand that feeds me,” I try to reassure her.

  “Well that's good to know.” She looks me up and down, trying to gauge whether or not I'm being genuine. Then she sighs, “Fine.”

  I wait for her to gather her things, trying to keep my smile at bay. I'm elated about the amount of money I was paid. I'm excited about the prospect of having a good job for once. And I find it highly amusing that my boss is frightened of me. There's too much happiness inside of me to keep it all contained.

  When she finishes getting ready and flanks my side, I look down at her. “You know, if we're going to be working together, you're going to have to learn to trust me.”

  “I do trust you.” The words are so brittle that I can't quite believe them. “You're a good guy. I knew it from the first moment I saw you.”

  I don't believe her intuition, but I decide to go with it. After all, she's my boss now, and back-talking will probably only get me in trouble.

  I wait for her to lock up the building and then walk her out to her car. She thanks me curtly when we arrive, climbing inside her vehicle with haste. It only speaks more about her fear of me. She'll get over it in time.

  I watch her drive away before I return to my truck, allowing my smile to shine through. It never leaves me all the way home, and when I walk inside, the first thing that I do is pick Marcy up and twirl her around.

  “How was it?” she asks when I finally set her down. Her blue eyes glow with anticipation of good news.

  I
pull the money out of my wallet and show her. “This is going to change our life.”

  She slides her arms over my shoulders and reaches up on tiptoe to give me a chaste kiss on the lips, sighing contently. “I'm glad it went well.”

  “It went more than well. Now I have everything I could want. A beautiful girl, a good job, and a chance to make a difference.”

  “And I have everything I could want,” she purrs back at me, looking up into my eyes.

  “And what do you want?” I wrap my hands loosely around her waist.

  “You. Just you.”

  In that moment, I'm the happiest man in the world. Life couldn't be going any better.

  It's strange to think that only half a year ago I had no direction. I was working at a dead-end job, just trying to get by. My life was solitary and without meaning. Through my sister's tragedy, everything changed. I'd still give it all to have her back. But if I can't have her back, then I'm glad that at least her death made a difference in my life and the lives of the call girls I'll be protecting from now on.

  The Snowman

  SKY CORGAN

  “Mutant carrots!” Martha holds up the bag to me, as if I didn't see it the second we turned onto the produce aisle, and my eyes landed on the carrots' section. I can't help but burst out laughing, though it's more from Martha's wide-eyed excitement at the find than anything else. She gets way too amped up about the simplest of things—seems to always have a boundless energy.

  “Those are strange.” I nod slowly, not knowing what else to say.

  “Look!” She points to the other bags of carrots in the display. They're all the same brand(How odd it seems that carrots should have a brand), but these are at least three inches longer than the rest. It's like the packaging was specially made just for this specific batch of carrots, and it's the only one on the shelf.

  “I know. That's so odd.” I furrow my eyebrows, putting way too much thought into why they're different from the others.