BITTER CUTS
Serena L’Amour
Smashwords Edition 1.0, December 2010
Copyright 2010 Serena L’Amour
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Bitter Cuts is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidents appearing in this work are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Full catalog of works by Serena L'Amour available at: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/batcityerotica
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Olivia Foster paid a steeper price that most could imagine to live and work in Hollywood. She'd grown up in a small town in Wisconsin, but she spent her teenage years longing for a life in California, among the glitz and the glamour. She took a bus to the city shortly after she graduated high school, and found a steady job as an assistant at Bitter Cuts. She worked tirelessly during the day and went to school at night, in pursuit of her dream of becoming a full time stylist, and perhaps one day, she'd be doing hair for movie stars.
But, as always, life has a way of crushing a young girl's dreams, as well as her heart. She had been working at the salon a year now, and had been treated harshly several times. Olivia was beautiful, with blonde hair and blue eyes, thick and curvy in all the right places. Back home, she had a steady boyfriend, but out here, she was the fat girl, the one that got passed over in lieu of the “beautiful ones”, in both her career and romantic pursuits.
Olivia was hired to shampoo clients, answer the phones, wash and dry the towels, and on her down time, she was allowed to practice cutting on the mannequins. But for the most part, Alexis Favreau, the manager of Bitter Cuts, treated the young girl very brutally. She'd make her work after hours, without overtime, closing the salon and cleaning the floors and tanning booths. Olivia would often stay at work for hours after her chores were done, perfecting her styles on the plastic women in hopes that Alexis would come in the next morning and compliment her work, and maybe give her a shot on a real client.
But the next morning was like every other one. “What a total clusterfuck!” barked Alexis. “Olivia, there's no way in Hell you're going to make it in this business. I mean, just look at this hair!” The other stylists, including Jenna, whom Olivia once considered a friend, and T-Man, Alexis' gay twin brother, the bitchiest of them all, laughed and gathered around to watch the humiliation. “Look, honey,” said T-Man. “This might have worked in Pigsville, or wherever the fuck you came from, but this is SoCal. You need to do yourself a favor: give it up. You're not even that good a maid!”
Olivia fought her feelings and was able to hold back the tears, at least for a little while. “Just take the damn trash out, and then come back and get to cleaning. I've wasted enough of my time with you.” Alexis turned around and a huge fake smile came across her face. “Darling, come in, sit down,” she told a client, as Olivia headed to the back room.
Olivia wiped her face and proceeded to empty the small trash cans into a larger bag, then headed out the back door towards the dumpster. Fucking bitch, she thought, as the emotions overcame her while she was throwing the trash into the larger receptacle. Finally, she could take no more and slumped down in the back alley and broke into tears. What the fuck do I have to do to make it in this world, she said as she cried to herself. She looked over as she noticed something bright drive by the alley. She noticed a shiny red Corvette pass and the handsome gentleman driver wave to her and smile. Hiya there, she said silently, as she waved and smiled back. Great, just what I need today, one more image of something I'll never have.
“Oh, Olivia, dear,” she heard Jenna bellow from inside the salon. “Your shampoo services are needed inside!”
Deep breaths, Olivia told herself, as she inhaled and exhaled slowly. She got up, collected herself, fixed her hair in a broken mirror on the ground, and returned inside Bitter Cuts.
The rest of the day went similar to the morning, as did every day she spent at the salon. Alexis would slash away at her self-esteem, and the other stylists would follow suit, making rude comments about her weight and laughing as she passed by. The customers weren't much better, and Olivia wasn't sure if they truly despised her as did her co-workers, or if they remained silent because a good stylist is hard to find in this town.
As closing time approached, Alexis called Olivia into her office. “Sit down, dear,” she told her, and Olivia complied. “It's been a tough year, hasn't it?” she asked.
“I'm a hard worker,” replied Olivia, “I do what it takes to make it in this field.”
“Well, rest assured, your work hasn't gone unnoticed,” said Alexis, as the others started to gather around their boss' door. “I have something for you.”
Olivia smiled, as she viewed a gilded frame, thinking it was an apprentice license. “Oh, Alexis,” she said, gushing as she reached for Alexis' gift. “I've waited so long for this, I promise, you won't be disappointed.”
“It's certainly a title you deserve,” smiled Jenna, as she crossed her arms in preparation for Olivia's reaction.
Olivia smiled again and looked down, then looked up and all around at the other stylists surrounding her. As she turned the frame around, she noticed the paper inside wasn't what she expected, but a certificate that read 'Hollywood's Husky Lil' Heifer', complete with a photo of a cow wearing a wig, similar in color to Olivia's own hair.
As Alexis, Jenna, and the rest of the girls laughed, Olivia clutched the frame, listening to the group sing 'for she's a jolly good heifer'. Olivia ran out of the office into the alley, where she broke down and cried like she'd never done before. Why do they have to be so fucking cruel, she asked herself. What the hell did I ever do to any of them? She buried her head in her lap and continued sobbing, until the clicks of heels from inside interrupted her.
“Get this place looking sharp by tomorrow morning,” said Alexis, as her entourage stood behind her. “Or you won't have a wall to even hang that fucking thing on.” Alexis looked around at her underlings. “Drinks at the Avalon?” she asked them, as they all smiled, nodded, and headed back inside to gather their things. Alexis stooped down to stare Olivia in the face. “Go back to the farm, baby girl,” she said with an evil grin. “You're just not good enough to make it out on the West Coast.” Alexis turned around, waved and went back inside.
Olivia continued to cry in spurts during the course of the evening as she scrubbed Bitter Cuts from top to bottom. She shut the main lights down, made sure the front door was locked, and took her last bag of garbage out to the alley. When she opened the back door, she noticed a stranger standing against the dumpster. To say he was handsome wouldn't have done him justice – he was about six foot five, with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes, and his body, which must have been built solely for sin, was very well dressed in an Armani suit.
“Long day, huh?” he said to Olivia, smiling. Olivia looked one way down the alley, as she was scared out of her mind that a stranger, even a beautiful one, was approaching her. As she looked the other way, she noticed the Corvette she'd seen earlier, and could immediately connect the gentleman with the luxurious ride. “Yep, it's mine,” he said. “Care to go for a ride?”
“No, thanks, “ she replied, not making eye contact with the gorgeous man.
“Come on, why don't you tell me wh
at's the matter,” he urged. “You look like a woman who could use some pampering.”
“And you look like a man who needs to mind his own business,” replied Olivia. “I'm going to tell you nicely – once – get out of here. The next time I have anything to say, I'll let mace and a 911 call do the talking.”
“Fair enough,” he said, walking back towards his vehicle. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
Olivia watched as he entered his car and sped out of site. Probably another one of Alexis' set-ups, she thought, as she went back inside. Damn, she said to herself, I forgot the tanning booths, and she went to clean those areas. Might as well pump up the music, as she turned the radio on to a loud volume and scrubbed her frustrations out. She worked hard for about an hour, and when she was finished, she shut the music off and headed towards the front of the salon.
When she rounded the corner, she saw a silhouette sitting at the main reception desk with feet propped up. “Who the hell is there!” she yelled. “I've got a phone and a bat, and I've already made up my mind which to use first!” She flipped on the lights to reveal the same person she'd run into outside. “You don't take hints real well, do you?”
“And you don't have a bat, now do you?” he smiled and replied.
“Who are you, and how the hell did you get in here?” said Olivia, reaching for the phone to call the police.
The man grabbed her hand. “Just wait a minute, let me explain,” he told her, but Olivia was already frozen stiff from fear. She started to cry again, and the man realized he'd put the poor girl through enough already. Olivia freed herself from his grasp, quickly gathered her belongings, and ran out the front, not even bothering to lock the door behind her.
Who is that gorgeous girl, said the man to himself. He couldn't imagine why such a beautiful and vibrant woman would be sad, especially working in this great city and in a fabulous industry. He looked around the place, running his fingers along the counters, not bringing up a speck of dust. As he walked towards the back office, he noticed some mannequins with very stylish haircuts and highlights. Not bad at all, he said to himself, Alexis' girls are coming up with some really interesting looks. But he became frustrated as he looked over the expense reports of his salon. Alexis does some good work here, he thought, but that crazy bitch is costing me an arm and a leg to keep this place open. He flipped through the pages of the sales log and became increasingly angry at the fact that his merchandise bills were so high, yet his inventory was stocked quite low. And all through the night, and in the midst of his irritation, he kept imagining the beautiful girl with the sad face who ran out of his salon mere moments ago. Finally, at his wits' end, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.
“Paolo,” he said. “It's George. How's business over there?”
“Busy as usual, Mr. Bitter. Are you be joining us for dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, can you set me up with a little something around nine?”
“Will there be a young lady tonight?” replied Paolo.
“I'm afraid not,” said George. “At least not tonight.”
“Surely there are more than enough suitable candidates in the City of Angels?”
“Most of them aren't my type, and wear nothing but broken wings.”
“I forgot who I was speaking to – George Bitter, the hopeless romantic,” laughed Paolo. “Most people would say you're a little touched in the head, but I say good. It's nice to see something as rare as good taste in the modern world. She'll find you, my friend. Have faith, and until then, have a good meal … my treat.”
“Thanks, Paolo,” replied George. “I'll see you a little later on.”
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Olivia's pulse was racing as she sped home to her small apartment, rushed up the two flights of stairs and quickly locked the door behind her. Is this entire city insane, she asked herself as she caught her breath. She looked out her window for about twenty minutes to see if the stranger had followed her home, and when it was clear that he had not, she let out a deep sigh of relief. A drink was something she rarely indulged in, but she figured she'd earned one, or two, considering the events of her day. Olivia went into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange vodka and cranberry juice. Rather tasty, she thought, as she finished the beverage in record time, think I might just have to make another one of those. By the time she'd finished her third drink, Olivia was more than just a little tipsy, and decided the night would be best ended by a long hot soak.
She went into the bathroom and started to fill the vintage clawfoot tub, one of her few pleasures in this world. She then unzipped her dress and let it slide to the floor. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting the lace glide down across her double D cup breasts, her nipples already beginning to harden. Olivia took her hands, and looking in the mirror, put her hair in an up-do, and made a sexy pouty face. She brought her arms down and in the process, grazed one of her huge tits. She looked at herself in the mirror a little more, as if she was trying to see beyond. I might be chubby, she said to herself, but I'm pretty damn cute – and at least I'm not a bitch. Olivia turned towards the bathtub and began to remove her silk panties, and feeling a little sexy and confident in herself, slowly pulled them down, gliding the soft material over her ample, voluptuous ass, before climbing into the water.
Olivia soaped up the loofah and scrubbed her soft, curvy body from head to toe. She laid back in the water and sunk down into the suds. Who the hell was that guy, she thought, he scared the living hell out of me, but Jesus, was he hot or what? She started to fantasize that he was actually being nice because he genuinely wanted her, and as her mind began to wander, she moved her hands over her pert nipples, and then southward into the water to touch her plump and clean shaven pussy lips. Her juices had already begun their flow as she started to make tiny circles around her clit. She imagined the unknown stranger walking seductively into the bathroom, carrying two glasses of red wine in his hands, and wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.
Long day, huh, he'd say, as he sat down on the edge of the tub. Yeah, it has been, but it's better now, she'd reply, sitting up and taking the glass from his hand. He'd get in behind her and began to rub her shoulders deeply, relaxing her more than the spirits ever could. Olivia began to finger herself thinking about his hands softly touching her all over, moving from her back and shoulders to her breasts, playing with her nipples while he was kissing the nape of her neck. As her orgasm began to approach, she slipped back into her fantasy.
She imagined turning herself around in the tub to face him, grabbing his hard cock with her soft hands. He'd grab her wrist and pull it away, with the same force he'd done to her before at the salon. No, Olivia, he'd say, tonight's all about you, as he sat her up on the edge of the bath and started to lick the insides of her creamy thighs, then running his tongue gently along the creases which connected her legs to her hips. He raised his head to gaze into her eyes, and she looked down at him, her eyes closing nimbly, biting her lower lip in anticipation of the pleasure she was about to receive.
He ran the tip of his tongue up her soft, wet, and fully engorged pussy lips, and then gently penetrated her. As he worked his tongue slowly around inside her, she grabbed his hair and threw her head back in ecstasy. She didn't need much to get off, not with him and not in his current position. Olivia furiously rubbed her clit back and forth as she imagined it was his tongue that was bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. She sank herself further down placing her legs on either side of the tub, working herself to climax with great passion. She arched her back as she felt wave after wave of pleasure come over her, and with a deep moan, burst into orgasm and slumped further into the water.
The next morning came all too quickly, and it was accompanied by a massive hangover as the alarm went off, jolting Olivia from her slumber and the bed. Shit, I forgot to lock the salon up, she thought, as she slammed her fist on the clock to silence it. I wonder if it's worth going in … do I still have a job? Olivia lai
d in bed for a few minutes, contemplating the scene to come at work, but figured she'd have to face the music sometime. She also thought about her wonderful masturbation session the night before. Wish I'd taken him up on his offer, she said to herself, he sure can work miracles with that tongue. Olivia caressed herself a little bit before turning her head to check the time. Damn, might as well get this over with, she told herself, as she rose from the bed and headed to the bathroom to prepare herself for the upcoming day.
George woke up in his condo the next morning, having not received much rest. Thoughts of his salon being robbed blind troubled him throughout the night. Who's responsible for the losses, he thought, are all the stylists crooks are is it just a select few? I swear to God, if Alexis is responsible for this, he said to himself, it'll be the end of her. Then his mind went to happier places, as he imagined that gorgeous girl who ran out of Bitter Cuts in tears. I was such an asshole to her, he thought, poor kid, shouldn't have scared her like that. He got up and jumped in the shower, scrubbing himself off quickly before hanging his head under the powerful stream. He closed his eyes as he grabbed his cock and started to stroke himself back and forth slowly, imagining her in the steam filled room with him, kissing him deeply, feeling her huge, lathered up tits pressing against his hard chest. He jacked off faster as he pictured himself running his hands down to her pussy, inserting a finger inside her to make her wetter than she already was.
You know I've always wanted you to fuck me, she would tell him, as she bit and tugged on his lip, think you can give it to me right? He flipped her around in his mind. That's it, baby, she'd moan, fuck me just how I need it! He stroked himself harder as he imagined his hard dick going deep inside her as she lifted her head up to glance back at him. Fuck me hard, she'd say, as he pumped his cock faster and faster with his hand. He imagined grabbing and tugging on her hair, as she begged for more of him. Deep inside me, baby, she'd beg, make me come hard! George shut his eyes tightly and stroked himself harder and faster, until his come exploded all over the back of his shower wall.
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