by A. J. Blake
“You really want to know?” London asked, not that he was afraid to tell the boy, but sometimes it could be a real difficult time in his life to think about.
“If you don’t mind.”
“Alright, then,” London continued folding shirts and pants, assorting socks, and started. “He was always an asshole, I’ll just begin with that, was always strict and really a tyrant and what not, but it wasn’t until I turned fourteen when it got a lot worse. I had managed to get on his good side one day and asked if I could have one my guy friends at the time come over. We were just going to hang out for a while, when the Old Man walked in on us making out...all hell broke loose.”
Henry stopped London there, “Wait, wait, wait, you’re gay?”
“Bisexual,” London corrected nonchalantly.
“Since when?”
“Since forever. I’ve never told anyone because I personally never thought it was a big deal.”
“Not that it’s a big deal, but, I don’t know, I kind of wish I just knew that about you. You don’t look gay or act gay, so I guess I just would have never assumed you were into dudes, and I’m starting to sound like an ignorant asswipe, sorry.”
“I’m not offended, but I’m bisexual, Henry, I’m still attracted to women.” When Henry didn’t interrupt him again, London went on about their father. “The Old Man beat my ass worse than he ever had after catching me with my tongue down another guy’s throat. I still remember how he choked me, threw me across the room, and kicked the shit out of me. I even blew chunks at how hard he was hitting me. And he left me that way, broken and battered in my room for two days. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house or even go to school for two weeks until all my bruises were gone. The only person who knew of how badly I’d gotten it was the guy I made out with, but he stopped talking to me, because of how scared he was. Even though you were nine at the time I wanted to make sure you didn’t know either.”
“Man...” Henry sighed.
“Wait, I’m not finished,” London continued, “As you know, for the two years after that, he’d take whatever anger he had out on me. Always beating the shit out of me when I did even the slightest thing to piss him off, keeping me from eating because I was ‘queer’ at times. Oh, there was this one night where he sat me in my room, and made me watch straight porn for hours when he found a playgirl magazine under my mattress. Shit was not only disgusting but awkward as fuck. I’d had enough of him after that, and knew I had to get out of there. While Elaine and the Old Man were gone, and you were at school, I packed a couple things and planned to hit the road. They came back while I was in the middle of it and that man wanted me dead. Since I’d gotten pretty big by the time I was sixteen, I was able to hold my own for a while against him. I’d never fought anyone so hard in my life, but he wasn’t going to be bested by a fucking kid...so he pulled a knife on me. If I hadn’t run when I did, you and Joyce would be on your own, right now. I almost died, Henry. I know you might still resent me a little for leaving this family when I did, but if I hadn’t-.”
“You’d be dead. I get it,” Henry said. “If that’s the reason you left then, I forgive you, and I’m sorry for always being a little shit towards you. I know you’re doing your best.”
London didn’t like the tenseness in the room, and forced himself to smile just to lighten it a little. “You better,” he joked, and he handed Henry a stack of clothes. “Now, go put these away.”
As Henry turned around, he said, “I still can’t believe you’re gay.”
“I’m bisexual...”
“Either way, you still like dudes. Are you dating anyone?”
Marbell was the first person to cross his mind. After their date the other day, London was hoping that they’d consider talking about what it’d be like to associate each other as steady, but after hearing the voice of that woman who claimed to be Marbell’s wife, London wasn’t even sure how to face the other man. “No,” he answered Henry, “I’m single as could be.”
As London put Joyce’s clothes away in her room, he couldn’t help thinking about Marbell. No one had ever dwelled on London’s thoughts like this, and he was beginning to think of something. Was he really falling in love with Marbell?
As much as London didn’t want to admit it, he was sure that was definitely the case. If not, he would have forgotten all about their first night, second, third, fourth, but London remembered each one vividly. He remembered the feeling of Marbell’s gentle hands all over his body, he remembered the taste of the man’s skin, and how he’d begged to be fucked into oblivion by the teacher.
Even now, with just the simple notion of having Marbell holding him, having every pleasure taken care of by that man, London had to force his excitement down. He wanted to lie in those arms, be kissed by those lips.
Closing the drawer with all of his sister’s socks inside, London crossed his arms on the surface and rest his head on them. He was overcome by these thoughts, and there was only one way to get them to stop. He needed to talk to Marbell, needed to know what was going on, and then grabbed his phone out of his pocket and stared at it for a moment. He thought about what he’d do if that woman answered the call again. Should he still ask for Marbell or hang up?
Not considering the options, he dialed the number anyway. The phone rang a good five times, and when London thought it was on its way to voicemail, the line was picked up.
“London?” thank god, it was him.
“Marbell,” London got straight to it, “We need to talk.”
There was a short pause of hesitation, “You sound upset,” the teacher sounded cautious, “Is everything, alright?”
London shut Joyce’s door, walking circles around the room with a hand clutched at the back of his neck. “Everything is so far from okay right now I’m actually tempted to pull every strand of my hair out.”
“What’s wrong?” Marbell asked, soundly genuinely concerned.
London sat down on Joyce’s jungle print bed, elbows on his knees, and his free hand ran back through his hair. “Yesterday my mother jacked every cent I had, and now I can hardly feed my brother and sister., but, on top of that...” he squeezed his eyes shut, convincing himself that he wasn’t about to start crying over the phone. “...I called you yesterday.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I did. Your wife answered the phone.”
The line went silent then, not even the sound of breathing could be heard between them, and London took it as Marbell cursing that he’d been caught red handed. He let the silence remain, wanting Marbell to be the one to break it with an explanation of any kind. After a full minute passed without a single sign of life on the other line, London couldn’t take the treatment anymore. “Aren’t you going to say something to me?” he let out. “Were the things you said before nothing but bullshit?”
“Of course, not,” Marbell finally spoke.
“Then why are you-,” London cooled his tone down, not wanting Henry or Joyce to barge in on him. “Then why are you married? First my own mother fucks me over, and then I find out the one person that I – that I’m now trying to prove to myself I’m not falling for is hiding a secret like this from me. Do you know just how shitty all of that made me feel? I didn’t sleep last night because of you.”
Marbell sighed through the phone, sounding frustrated, “My intentions were never to hurt you, London.”
“Right, coming from the guy who hides his wedding ring whenever he’s fucking me. I’m going to take it that your wife doesn’t know you go out every now and again to stick it up younger guys, huh?”
“London, I’m sorry–.”
“Am I the only one? Are there other guys out there you’ve been leading on with your big CEO position and flashy money? Do you tell them they’re pretty, too, when you’ve got them desperate in a fancy hotel room?”
“It’s not like that, London.”
“How should I know? I’m an escort for heaven’s sake. I fuck strangers who will pay me for a living. I wo
uldn’t know if I’m the first or second or third person you’ve managed to contact.” London could feel his throat tightening the way it did when strong emotions remained pent up inside him for too long. “I didn’t need this on top of what my mother did to me, Marbell. I needed you as an outlet. I needed you to be the one person I could run to when I felt like everything in the world was against me, and now I do and here I am, alone and feeling like I’ll fall apart at any moment.” He caught his breath when he lost it, keeping in the tears to the best he could. “Goddammit,” he said, looking up at the white ceiling, “Why do you make me feel so good and weak at the same time?”
Speechlessness held fixed on the other line, and London waited to hear what Marbell had to say. He’d come undone just now and didn’t know if he could take it if the teacher didn’t have anything justifiable to say.
“London,” Marbell said, he sounded withdrawn. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Don’t hang up on me,” London begged, disgusted with the pleading whimper of his voice. “Please, Marbell, just tell me none of it was fake. Don’t leave me thinking I’ve gone and poured my heart out only for you not to care. I’ve gone years without knowing the slightest bit of love or anything from someone else. Please, don’t make me have to get used to that again.”
“What do you want me to say?” Marbell asked.
“Anything...”
A second went by and Marbell still said nothing. Instead, London heard another voice speaking in the distance. He couldn’t quite make out the words being shared, but he knew it was the woman who’d answered the phone the other day. “I have to go,” Marbell said, his tone forward like he was talking to a colleague. “I’ll talk to you another time,” and then the line was cut.
London thought he actually perceived the break of his heart when the call ended like that. “Marbell?” he said, but no one answered back. He squeezed the mobile in his hands and put his forehead to his knees, feeling lightheaded afterwards. Did that mean Marbell was done with him? He had a wife and had been found out, so what reason would he have to stay to console a troubled twenty-one-year-old who caught feelings so soon?
He didn’t have to.
It wasn’t his obligation.
“Fine,” London said to himself, wiping the tears that hadn’t fallen yet from his eyes. If this was the way his relationship with Marbell would end, he guessed it was better now than later. Besides, he had two kids to care for. He needed to focus solely on them and wasn’t going to let something as petty as a selfish heartbreak stop him from putting food on the table, clothes on his brother and sister’s back. After his last actual clientele session with Marbell, London had planned to stop contact with future clients, wanting to keep himself available and unrestricted just for Marbell, but he was done with that now.
This morning he had received a text from a woman who promised two-thousand up front. He searched for her message in the trash bin of his phoneand sent her a friendly reply:Can’t wait. See you at 10pm.
X – Child
Janice Middleton was the name of woman who’d contacted London tonight. She had curly, dirty blond hair down to the small of her back, narrow grey eyes, thin, red painted lips, and her body was rather curvaceous. They’d met in a hotel on the upper north side of the city, booking a honeymoon suite on the top floor. When London had arrived after making sure Joyce had Henry looking after her tonight with one of his friends, he joined Miss Janice and collected his money.
This woman was nervous as ever upon meeting him. She played with her fingers, and stuttered when she spoke, especially once the escort asked how she had envisioned this session going from here. “I want-,” she started, pausing out of tenseness for a second, “I w-want you to f-f-fuck me against a wall.” Before London could even agree to it, she added, “If I’m too fat, of course, you d-don’t have to. We can just stay on the bed, then.”
London didn’t think twice before he began to abandon his clothing, stripping from his shirt, jeans and shoes. Casually, as he dug through his duffel bag for a condom, he said, “Is this something you’ve always wanted?”
Janice nodded, “Yes, but I’ve always been too f-fat or scared to ask the few people I’ve ever been w-with.” She unbuttoned her blouse and threw it aside, her breasts cupped in a red lace bra for the occasion. “Unfortunately I seem to attract a lot of pretty scrawny guys who can’t even handle anything over fifty pounds.”
When Janice was down to her panties, red lace to match her bra, London approached the woman. “Do I look scrawny to you?” he asked.
“Oh, my,” Janice stared in awe, touching London’s tone pecks and tight six pack. “N-Not at all.”
“I didn’t think so.”
London lightly pushed Janice back until she hit the wall across from the untouched bed. He pulled her panties down, running his fingers carefully down and into her, only to find out that the woman was already soaking wet, leaving his fingers glistening with her juices when he stroked them out. “S-sorry,” she stuttered a moan, “I-I’m really horny, right now.”
“Don’t apologize,” London smirked. He then hooked his arms behind her legs, and lifted Janice off the ground, her back sliding up the wall as she gasped in near amazement. She had to be at least 190lbs, but London didn’t find it difficult at all. Supporting her with the wall and one arm, he slipped his cock into her and Janice’s mouth fell open with a sigh of liberation. “Everyone deserves to be fucked against a wall every now and again.”
“Oh, my god!” Janice called out, every ounce of shyness she had before melting away.
London pulled out slightly, pumping back up into her, the tightness of her pussy nothing compared to–
He shook his head, purging the thoughts away before he could dwell on them any longer. “Fuck,” he cursed himself aloud, now was not the time to be focused on him.
As he plowed into Janice, she had her arms around his neck, and suddenly rammed their lips together, forcing her tongue into his mouth. He let it be, adjusting her weight in his arms as she moved their tongues, licking over his lips with so much hunger that he wouldn’t be surprised if she accidentally ended up biting him.
He drove Janice up the wall, fucking her as hard as she demanded of him, until she felt like she’d had enough. “The bed,” she screamed out, holding her orgasm in, “Take me to the bed.”
London firmly gripped her thighs, Janice still grinding on him until he set her down on the mattress. “God,” she moaned, digging her nails into London’s back, “You’re so strong.”
For a moment London wondered if strength was what turned this woman on.
He fucked her in different positions for a good several more minutes until she finally hit her climax, legs shaking violently as London toyed with her clit. They were both sweating and exhausted, tangled in the sheets as the sparkling atmosphere came down. Janice turned over under the covers, they were just under her breasts, and her whole body was rosy after the session. “That was amazing,” she smiled, eyes still glassy from the aftermath of her orgasm. “I’ve never been taken care of like that,” she said, “Not even by my own husband.”
London had been lying beside her, hands behind his head with the covers completely off. He met her gratified grey eyes, “You’re married?”
“Yeah,” she sounded a little regretful, “I love him with all my heart, but even with that, he doesn’t satisfy all my needs. Sometimes a woman just wants to be handled, y’know.”
“No, I don’t,” London admitted, trying to hide his annoyance. “I’ve never been in a relationship that’s left me so unfulfilled that I’d go out and be unfaithful.” He wondered for a moment if that’s why Marbell would take it upon himself to seek a better lover. Was his wife so bad in bed that he’d searched for a male partner to do all the things she couldn’t? He doubted it. London had been led on for long after their first night...
After leaving the honeymoon suite, London stood outside at his car. He thought about going straight home to get some sleep,
but was afraid of being alone with his thoughts. Whenever it was too quiet, he couldn’t help thinking about the things he wanted to avoid. There was only one place that came to mind that would guarantee the silencing of his thoughts: Wonderland. And since it was a Saturday night, it was promised to be packed with party people and its usual deafening music.
Before starting the car, London noticed the blinking of a dark blue light at the corner of his phone. That meant he had a message waiting for him to answer. With the thought of it possibly being Henry or something dealing with Joyce, he unlocked the screen only to find a text from Marbell.
Just seeing the name of the man brought a tautness to his chest. Part of him wanted to read it, the other wanted to ignore it and continue his night. The problem with this, however, is the part of him that wanted to read it won over the two without having to put up a fight.
Marbell: Can we meet somewhere to talk?
Oh, now he wants to talk? London couldn’t believe it. Without taking a second to dwell on what he was going to reply with, he sent:Go fuck yourself.
Marbell was quick to reply:Don’t be such a child, London. I know what I’ve done. Let me explain.
London: What’s there to explain? You’ve proved you’re nothing but an asshole. Just leave me alone like you planned to do eventually!
Marbell wouldn’t be deterred:Where are you?
London: Fuck off!
Marbell: Is this honestly how you’re going to be?
London had had it after that line. Fuming in his own anger, he quit the text messaging back and forth and called the teacher, the line picking up after the second ring. London didn’t give Marbell a chance to say anything. “I’m sorry, but do you think I’m taking what you did to me too seriously? Because, god almighty, if that is what’s about to come out of your mouth right now, I swear on everything I have I will knock your teeth in.”
