Nineteen

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Nineteen Page 12

by E. S. Carter


  Kneeling, I cup her sex with one hand and use my other to steady her hips, all the while running deep, open mouthed kisses across her arse.

  Allowing her no further warning I dip my head and run my nose down over her thong, the same journey my finger made earlier, then I replace it with my tongue and I hear her gasp, the small beg of ‘More’ escaping her lips.

  Pulling the lace of her thong to one side I continue the gentle licking, over the tight pucker between her cheeks, making sure I dip my tongue inside just a fraction and then further down to where my other hand still cups her.

  Crouching further beneath the archway of her straight legs, I use both hands to open her wide before plunging my tongue deep into her now soaked core.

  Her moans get louder and one hand grips into my hair tightly, pushing my face further into her.

  Replacing my tongue with a single finger I thrust gently until one finger becomes two and her hips begin to match the movement of my hand, my head travels further up to find that sensitive bud that I now want to nibble and make her scream.

  And nibble it I do, after licking and sucking it, while she struggles to keep upright from the thrusting of my fingers.

  My dick is fit to burst from the confines of my jeans but I want her to come first, so that when I fuck her harder than she’s ever been fucked before, she’s damn well ready for me.

  Her legs begin to tremble, she is struggling to hold herself in this position and her back begins to arch, in one quick motion I stop my mouth from devouring her and replace it with my other hand, wanting to see the look on her face as she comes, hard.

  My fingers that are inside her keep their steady thrust and my other hand puts pressure on her clit, all it takes is a quick flick of my thumb to send her over the edge.

  Her internal muscles spasm and clench over my fingers but I do not stop their relentless movements, drawing out her screams, making her entire body shake.

  She forcefully pulls my head back and I take in her sweat covered, make-up smeared face.

  Her flawless mocha skin tells of a mixed race heritage and her plump, red stained lips, beg for my dick between them. Her eyelids open slowly, a sensual smile at the corners of her mouth and my gaze locks with those beautiful blue/green eyes from my dreams.

  Stunned, I blink rapidly, trying to gain my focus before looking at her again.

  No! That can’t be right, those eyes do not belong on that face!

  Staring back into her eyes, my breath catches as I am met with a deep chocolate brown.

  What the Fuck!

  ‘Your turn handsome’ she huskily whispers to me before grabbing the collar of my shirt and pulling me up onto my feet.

  Fuck! What the hell am I doing?

  My once rigid cock has begun to lose it hardness as the blood that pumped to it now rushes to my head, making me dizzy.

  Get yourself together Jake! This is fucking pathetic!

  I clear my mind, mentally blocking out all thoughts of her and concentrate on what Miss Mocha is now doing to me.

  My jeans are already around my ankles and her hand is already gripping my cock through the fabric of my boxers.

  Fuck this! I’m going to take her hard from behind, that way I do not even have to look at her face, just in case there is a chance my addled mind wants to play more tricks on me.

  Pulling her up from her kneeling position she whines ‘But baby, I wanted to suck you off’.

  I don’t even bother to answer, I walk her the few steps the bed, turn her and force her face down into the mattress, kneeing her legs open before her head has even fully hit the covers.

  Reaching into the bedside drawer, I rip open a foil square and swiftly roll a condom over my now solid cock, thrusting deep inside a second later.

  Sleep, I finally get in a solid four hours, with no visions of blue/green eyes or metallic shoes and I awake feeling absolutely shit!

  In order to get four solid hours sleep I fucked last night’s prey, Little Miss Mocha, every which way, until she collapsed from fatigue and dragged herself home, saying she needed to leave as she had work in two hours.

  I think she left because she thought I was a depraved, sex addict, who took her in more ways and orifices than she thought possible.

  Ah well, at least I slept. At least I know I can sleep, even if I have to fuck myself to death to do it.

  Stretching my aching limbs, my muscles protest against the movement, I force myself out of bed and into my en suite, needing to shower away the stench of sex that seeps out of every pore.

  Thank God I’ve started to get my shit back together, I have a huge list of things to do today before heading to Havers for the late shift tonight.

  First on the list, call Tina my agent.

  Tina Daniels is a pro, a Rottweiler amongst agents and I am lucky to have her. She represents everyone from young models, to upcoming TV starlets and big name Hollywood actors and luckily for me she still sees something in me, even though I’ve not yet hit the small time, let alone the big.

  Finding her name in my contacts I tap her number and wait for an answer.

  ‘Tina Daniels office, Amy speaking’ a sugar sweet voice comes from the phone.

  ‘Hey Amy, Jake Fox here just returning Tina’s call’ I can hear her smile and see her twisting her long blonde hair as though I was standing right there in front of her. Yes I’ve been there as well, many times in fact, Amy is on my list of ‘occasionals’. Girls I know who are amazing in bed and not too clingy, making them ideal booty calls.

  ‘Hey Jake, long time no see. I’ll put you through to Tina now. Call me.’ and with that she’s gone to be replaced by some random ‘on hold’ music.

  ‘Jake! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been chasing your backside all weekend!’ Tina sounds pissed.

  ‘Sorry Tina, had an emergency but I’m returning your call as soon as I could, what do you have for me?’

  My seductive drawl doesn’t work on Tina, she’s heard and seen it all before so I find it better to play it safe and be straight down the line with her. Besides, she is like mutton dressed as lamb and has balls bigger than any man I have ever known!

  ‘A read through Jake and this is BIG. They have asked for you personally after seeing those new head shots your brother took for you, said you fit the profile perfectly’. Her tone is strangely far more excitable than I have ever heard before and my interest is piqued.

  ‘Great, what and who’s it for and when?’

  She pauses, possibly for dramatic effect.

  ‘Redlight productions are making a TV series for KNTV, based on E.S Carter’s multimillion selling, Vampire’s Bite books. This is freaking HUGE Jake!’ I hold the phone stunned, unable to formulate any reply.

  ‘Jake did you hear me? This is the biggest thing that could ever happen to you if you get it. I mean even a small, regular, part will open doors. You cannot afford to miss this gig so don’t eff it up OK?’

  Again my response is silence.

  ‘Jake, are you still there?’ Tina is waiting for my reply.

  ‘Yes, Sorry Tina, that was just a lot to take in. You say Redlight have asked for me?’ This seems too good to be true.

  ‘They have indeed Foxy! Said they had a part that your profile fits perfectly and between you and me, if you give a decent read through, it’s yours!’

  Shit! This is big!

  ‘OK Thanks Tina, can you have Amy text or email me through the details please?’ I say trying to contain the emotion in my voice.

  ‘Will do Jake, break a leg! I can feel it in my water, this one is yours.’ And with that she hangs up.

  Fuck! Redlight productions are huge and KNTV is the biggest satellite TV station in the country, add that to Carter’s books, that everyone from tweens to housewives are going nuts for, makes this probably the biggest gig in the country right now!

  Time passes slowly when you all you have to do is wait.

  I am waiting for the green light to go home and trust me when I say, wa
iting sucks.

  The police returned yesterday to interview me about the attack but my lack of memories seemed to piss them off somewhat. Do they think I am hiding something? I am the victim in all this, yet I cannot help but feel they blame me, like I encouraged some strange guy to try and rape me and beat me to a pulp.

  I am still confined to my hospital bed, the odd trip to the bathroom is only sanctioned if a nurse accompanies me and I am desperate to have a shower.

  Bed baths could quite possibly be the most demeaning thing I’ve ever had forced upon me. So the fact that I have been promised a shower today, if I keep improving, is quite possibly the highlight of my life so far.

  To be able to wash away the grime, smell and staleness my body feels covered in, while standing under the hot, cascading water of a shower, seems like such a luxury right now.

  I eventually persuaded my father to go home last night, I begged him to have a decent nights rest and to check up on my mother. Not that I am worried about her wellbeing but my Dad always is and I used that to my advantage, knowing that she is the only other reason he will leave my side.

  Liv visited me briefly but her stay had been interrupted when the police turned up to grill me about my version of Saturday night. She was unwilling to leave at first but I assured her that I was up to talking with the detectives, in truth I just wanted to get it over with, so she promised to come back again today with chocolates and magazines.

  My head still pounds and my side still hurts like hell, especially when moving but I can feel that the level of pain has decreased slightly, day by day. I try my hardest to convince my Dad and Liv of this but they still fuss over me constantly.

  The Doctors are pleased with my progress, even suggesting that I can go home early next week if I continued to improve and I want that more than anything.

  Getting back to some normality will hopefully stop this whole thing from feeling like a dream, or maybe nightmare is a better word.

  I still do not know the entirety of what happened to me or who assaulted me but I know for a fact I was not raped.

  Raped.

  Even thinking the word in my head makes my chest constrict and the air in my lungs becomes heavy. I have to mentally tell myself to breathe whenever I think about it. Inhale, exhale and repeat.

  My sane mind tells me how lucky I am that it never got that far but thoughts of ‘what if’ are always in the dark corners of my brain, threatening to pull me in.

  Grievous Bodily Harm and Sexual Assault are the two main charges being levelled at the guy from Saturday night, as well as a few other minor charges.

  I have vague recollections prior to the attack. Getting ready at Liv’s, talking to some guys in the VIP area of the club, dancing with Liv, drinking (a lot) but everything else evades me.

  I cannot even picture their faces from Saturday, other than Liv and I have no idea who the guys that saved me are. I need to ask Liv to fill me in on some the details when she visits today, I have stopped myself from discussing it in front of my Dad for fear of upsetting him further.

  Dad turns up just after I’ve finished an appetising, hospital lunch of mashed potatoes and some kind of nameless fish in a sauce that was more like a congealed paste. He kisses me hello noticing the bland food I am pushing around my plate and smiles when he deposits a bag full of goodies on the table.

  ‘I’ve brought you some of your favourites, looks like the chocolate chip cookies in that bag are going to be a big hit after that!’ he motions his head to my discarded plate and chuckles.

  ‘Thanks Dad you’re the best’. I give him a genuine smile and look up as a nurse comes into the room to promise me a shower within the next half hour.

  The grin that takes over my face has to be cheek splitting; my Dad just shakes his head and laughs at me.

  ‘It’s good to see you happy Pud, even if it’s only because of a shower’ he smiles at me before adding ‘Your Mum says she loves you and can’t wait for you to come home, she’s sorry she can’t be here but she’s feeling a little under the weather herself and doesn’t want to spread her germs’. He tries and fails not to look a little sad and a flash of guilt passes over his face.

  ‘Dad it’s OK, I wouldn’t have expected her to come, I’m OK with it and it’s not your fault’.

  His replying smile is small and cheerless and it doesn’t reach his eyes, he begins to unpack the bag of items he’s brought in for me.

  ‘I’ve got you clean Jammies, all your favourite smellies, your iPod and the book you left on your bedside table’ he grins as he fishes one of my most favourite possessions out of the bag and places it on my lap.

  I return his grin equally ‘Thanks Dad, have I told you lately that you are the best?’ I totally mean it, I have no-one else except Liv, he is my rock.

  Picking up my iPod and turning it on I can see it is only 50% charged.

  ‘Hey Dad, did you bring the charger for this?’ holding it up as I ask.

  ‘Ah sorry Pud, I tried hard to remember everything I thought you might need. I’ll pop back this afternoon with it as I have to leave soon to take your Mother for her hair appointment’.

  He mumbles the last few words of his sentence quietly and a little slowly, realising his mistake of confirming my mother is in good enough health not to miss her weekly cut and blow dry.

  I do not meet his eyes when he looks at me but reply with a small ‘Thanks’ and set about scrolling through the playlists of my iPod.

  God, how I have missed listening to my music!

  No matter my mood, be it happy, sad, reflective or reminiscent, music always joined me and helped me through. Along with my Dad and Liv, it is my crutch, the soundtrack to my life so to speak and I do not think I could ever live without it.

  I do not have time to indulge in some musical therapy before the nurse pops back in, far quicker than expected, to aid me in the shower.

  Getting to the bathroom is still a struggle but each journey there becomes easier and each time I do, feels like a small victory.

  ‘Do you think you can manage if I set you up and give you some privacy to wash?’ she asks hurriedly, obviously having other duties that require her presence.

  ‘Yes I’m sure I can do this alone, if you can just make sure everything is within reach as I’m not sure I can bend to pick up anything up at the moment.’ I give her a weak smile, a little embarrassed at my evident handicap.

  ‘Of course I can dear, you just pull this cord if you need any help at all and I’ll come running’ she motions to the red pull cord at the side of the shower.

  ‘Thanks for this, I really can’t wait to get clean’ this time I do not meet her eyes, fearing she might think there is a double meaning to my words, when in truth I really do just want to wash for normal reasons.

  ‘Glad I can help, I’ll be back in 15 minutes to check on you and help you re-dress if needed’ and with that she’s off, closing the bathroom door quietly behind her. The shallow ‘click’ echoes around the tiled bathroom; I am alone.

  Now how am I going to do this? Since I am still in one of those godforsaken, back fastening, hospital gowns that shows all your wares, I have no idea!

  Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I hope my bruised twin who is currently gazing absently at me will give me a hint as to how to manoeuvre my semi broken body, into twisting around and undoing the ties.

  Nope, not ever gonna happen.

  I take the few steps back to the door and meekly pop my head out, hoping my Dad is still sitting by my bed. He is and he shoots out of his seat the moment I open the door.

  ‘What’s wrong Pud?’ he looks worriedly at me.

  ‘Can you help me get undressed Dad? I wouldn’t normally ask but the ties are behind my back and I can’t get my arms around to reach them’.

  ‘Of course, of course, I should have offered to help you but I thought you wouldn’t want your old Dad ‘faffing around’ as you normally tell me I am’.

  I laugh, he’s right, that is definite
ly something I would say to him.

  ‘Ah well, I could do with some faffing right about now if that’s OK?’ I smirk a little as I say it, I am attempting to be coy but I have too big a smile on my face to pass it off.

  Dad returns my smile and motions his finger in a ‘turn around’ fashion.

  ‘I’ll just undo the ties and you can slip it off when you get back in the bathroom OK?’

  ‘Thanks Dad, have I told you lately that you are the best?’ he laughs again, loudly. ‘You have Pud, quite a lot over the last few days and like I keep telling you, it’s my job and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now go on in there and get cleaned up before the nurse has you back in bed’.

  Returning to the bathroom, I slip off the gown and turn on the shower. It takes ages to regulate the temperature, I fear I might either freeze to death or get scolded. Stepping under the soothing water is just divine. I never want to get out.

  Washing my hair one handed isn’t a pleasurable experience. Trying to soap myself with bodywash is another difficult job, there are too many places I can’t quite get to but I finally feel clean and I have managed it all by myself!

  Drying is another difficult task, I only have one arm to do it and pain shoots through my entire body when I run the towel over sore areas.

  I give up with the drying quite quickly, realising that clean and damp is better than grimy and dry, so I wrap the towel around me and tuck it over itself just above my breasts.

  I move towards the mirror to brush my hair and begin to feel a little weak from the exertion of showering. I know I’ll have to call the nurse to assist me with getting dressed but asking for help to do this doesn’t make me feel down hearted. I have already coped with being independent for the majority of this task and I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. I’ll be home soon, they can’t argue with me now that I am on the mend.

 

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