Authors: J.K. Hudson
I was supposed to stay here and rest, not spent my whole evening gambling with fools
. He reluctantly showed his share of the cards and heard Gary bursting into a thunderous laugh. “Ha ha ha. I won again. You fuckers, you can't win against me,” he yelled. “Pay up boys. Who's in for another round?” Gary said while Ron was already shuffling the cards.
“I'm sorry guys, but I have to get some sleep. I have all kinds of work tomorrow and I can barely stay awake. It was nice playing with you all though.” Jack saw a glimpse of regret from the winning guy. Somehow he blamed himself for spoiling the fun to the others by always winning and started apologizing.
“I'm sorry man, but luck is with me tonight. Maybe next time.” His glare was trying to challenge him, but right now the only thing inside Jack's mind was the glass of whiskey he was going to order and the dancer's distinct laugh, flirting with another man.
“No worries Gary. I'm just jinxed it seems. See you another time,” Jack waved his hand with his back turned.
Assholes,
he thought after moving towards the bar.
Surprisingly, the barman seemed like he had taken a long nap and just now waked up just to serve him. His clothes were spotless and freshly ironed. “What can I get you Jack?” the old man asked with the same rough voice as before.
“The usual. And make it double. I want it to knock me out of my socks.” Jack was done feeling wistful about her.
She seems interested in someone else.
Somehow this thought didn't make him feel better though.
What if I'm just too old for her? What if I'm just too old for all of these?
“Here you are son. Your room is ready. It's the second door to the left, as soon as you get to the top of the staircase.” After he stopped talking, Jack took another quick look towards her, now watching her be even more intimate with that man. Jack took a long, deep, sip and if it hadn’t been for the barman's hand to stop him, he would have left the whole glass empty. “What are you doing?” Jack whined at him.
“I don't want to drag your sorry ass upstairs lad. If you want her, I can arrange for you to get her...for the right price of course.” Jack jerkily turned his head and was now glancing straight at the old man's eyes. His hands were weak and his eyes half-closed, but he was still able to think sanely.
“How much?”
What are you doing you fool? You're going to regret it,
a voice echoed inside his mind. Strangely, it felt like it wasn't his own, but it sounded hauntingly familiar.
For a moment, after giving the man his money—not exactly sure how much, but even in his drunken haziness it seemed too much—he felt the blood pumping inside his body rising faster than ever. The man was now counting the cash, and after he seemed content with his deal, he raised his hand and called for her. Jack was looking at him like a fool, hypnotized by the thought of touching her soft skin in his hand.
She was still wearing the same clothes as earlier, but now her hair was loose. The lamps were to blame for the auburn aura coming off of her body, but the fact that she had also lowered the neckline of her dress helped a lot. “Did you ask for me Benny?”
After getting close enough, she secretly smiled at Jack and silently put her finger before her mouth and shushed at him.
She still wants me to keep that secret. That means she remembers me.
A surge of hot blood was now running through his body. His balls were ready to burst and he immediately wanted alleviation. The dancer nodded twice at the old barman and then looked at Jack's eyes. Her glare was full of understanding and lust, while at the same time promising many untold wonders. Behind the deep fire that her eyes were lighting, there was regret—a regret that only drunken Jack was able to discern.
“So, you came back, honey. I knew you would,” she murmured after sitting next to him.
Jack wasn't able to talk, but he rather nodded. His eyelids were feeling heavy and his mouth numb. Only his hand was able to move, and it went straight for the woman's breast. She generously warded it off, giving a joyful smile. “So, you're a man of actions, and not of words. Lead me to your room, cowboy.”
Jack wasn't a man of extravagant behaviors when concerning his mates, but he had already broken his rule about prostitutes after paying for a night with her. Although staggering for the whole way to his room, she started talking with awe. “The old man surely have taken a liking at you. He never books this room to anyone, especially to us,” she giggled, sounding a little bit intoxicated too.
It took him a while to find the key, which was residing in the front pocket of his jeans, and a couple more moments to actually slide the key inside the keyhole. Most of the time, she was giggling like a little child when doing a mischief. His mouth, though, was forming a tense line, and his eyes were scanning the hallway for any witnesses.
I already feel dirty enough for paying this woman, I don't want to remember any of it tomorrow morning.
However, he knew that if he was able to complete this thought successfully, he would also remember about his night with her.
“Wow, I never thought that a room this nice was hiding behind this door,” the whore exclaimed.
Her eyes seemed so alluring to him just then.
I wish I could take you with me,
he thought.
I would give you the world to stop working here
. But his intense look was interpreted as a sexual call by his companion. She started taking her clothes off hastily, without paying any attention to eroticism. For once, Jack's mind completely blacked out; the only thing driving his actions now were his instincts.
He started undressing too, savagely unbuttoning his shirt, as well as his jeans. She was already lying on the bed naked. She immediately started playing with her clitoris, making small moans every time she completed a small circle around it. Her eyes were shut at first, but soon she opened them and looked straight into his eyes. With her hand still circling around, she whispered at him. “You really have the most beautiful eyes I've seen.”
Jack raised his eyebrows as soon as he heard her talking.
Is she for real?
he wondered. His stretched cock and his hand already pulling the skin around it proved that somehow she had found his soft spot. Not able to hold himself back anymore, he took a step closer to her. Her moans were getting louder, but Jack was way past the turning point.
“I want you to stop pretending. If you don't feel like it, then don't do anything,” he commanded. For a moment Jack thought he saw a puzzled expression on her face.
I must have imagined it,
he thought. But he wasn't able to hold back his urges anymore. His hand touched her breast and started squeezing it softly. Then, with the back of his palm, he caressed her belly before slowly making his way to her clitoris.
“If you wanted to play with that, you should have told me sooner,” he whispered. She had returned to her earlier stance, with her eyes closed, but she was acting differently now. At first, she wasn't wet. Jack pulled his finger out, and then back in many times. When she started feeling more comfortable, he upped his pace and started getting deeper. Her moans have returned now, but they were mostly deep exhales.
Suddenly, her hand was helping his, driving it around, leading it to the right places. Jack’s dick was standing upright, and he wasn't able to hold back anymore. He took his finger out. It was covered with her honey. Then, he grabbed her thighs and moved her closer to him, at the edge of the bed. With his hands still on her thighs, he opened her legs. It was time for him to get inside.
He slid inside her and pushed. With silent cries, she seemed like she wasn't feeling pleasure, but it was part of the procedure. He started fucking her differently. Slowly, then hastily, then slowly again. She started to warm up to it, but Jack wasn't ready to let her go yet. He pulled himself out and then made her stand on her knees. He was going to get her from behind.
It was a bit more difficult, but after a while, she had returned at the loud moans and he was silently pushing even deeper.
“I think I'm close,” she murmured. Jack was close too, but unable to talk.
He pulled himself out one last time and the sturdily pushed his dick back in. They both left a loud cry; she had an orgasm and Jack pulled himself out hastily and ejaculated on the floor. After months of abstention, his cum was thick and plenty. But most surprisingly, she was panting too, acting like an inexperienced virgin. However, after a long day of drunkenness and sore muscles, Jack lay on the bed with most of his clothes on, although unbuttoned, and quickly fell asleep.
***
A creaking sound coming from the bed woke Jack up. At first, he wasn't able to open his eyes due to an unbearable headache. He rubbed his forehead with his hands trying to make the headache go away, but he found out that it only made matters worse. Even though he was unable to talk, or see, he could clearly hear a woman's breathing coming from the side of the bed, sitting next to him.
Feeling surprised, he forced his eyes open after all and the stinging sun rays made him moan. His blurred sight made everything look like it was shining, but after taking a quick look around, he saw the dancer's naked body bending to get her clothes from the floor.
I'd completely forgotten about her,
Jack thought. He rubbed his eyes again, and tried to focus on her more clearly.
Her back was scarred in some places, but overall, she was beautiful.
Probably a bad deal with a customer or her pimp. Damn,
he huffed. It was then he caught the dancer's attention.
“Oh fuck...you're awake. You haven't paid enough for a second round,” she said shiveringly. There was something about her manner.
Is she afraid of me?
he wondered.
He was watching her trembling eyes for quite a while without saying a thing. She returned his intense look with a tint of debunked happiness, the one she used to enchant him. However, her eyes had that usual lonely, brown color. Then, it struck him. That was the feeling he was getting since yesterday while he was looking at her eyes. She was lonely, and afraid, looking for a way out—exactly like he was.
“What's your name?” she suddenly asked after some time of indeterminable glaring.
“Jack. Just Jack,” he replied.
“Just Jack. Now that's a common name. And where you're off to today?”
“I'm going back to south. I'm looking for a job for the winter. And I'm not leaving until tomorrow.”
The woman seemed more laid back after taking a deep breath. “Another passerby. I wish I had your life, always moving, moving away from everything that I don't like.”
“It's not like that at all. I'm living on the road, never staying to one place long enough, never making any friends, not living my life. I'm just a passerby.”
Jack desperately wanted a glass of whiskey to go with his words, but only in the thought of it, his headache returned as intense as ever. He repositioned himself onto the bed, and he was now standing with his back against the bed's head. The woman was still bent over the floor, naked. With her left hand she was covering her breasts and with her right hand she was looking for something.
“Shit, where did my fucking underwear go?” She swore some more before deciding to stand on her feet. Jack couldn't hold his eyes off her butt, and that was something that she immediately noticed. Surprisingly, she let a smile and slowly took her hand away from her chest.
“Come on cowboy, I can let you milk these titties, for the right price.”
Her sayings made him sick. “Just stop. What happened yesterday was a mistake. I don't pay for whores, and I don't fuck women who act like whores.” His hands were buckling his clothes while he was talking.
She had a quizzical expression on her face, probably waiting a different answer from him. Hastily, she picked something from the floor and also covered her breast once again. “You're an asshole,” she said and moved towards the door. She looked behind once again, searching for a sign of remorse, but Jack was nowhere close to apologizing to her.
Furiously shaking her head, she made sure to make a lot of noise while getting out of the room.
That's why I don't like whores, especially the ones with feelings. They make you feel bad about yourself, but especially for them.
He turned his head around, looking for his hat; he found it under the woman's heavy dress. He got on his feet, grabbed it. But, before he was ready to head downstairs, he found a piece of a rumpled paper on the floor.
“What is this?” he whispered. He bent over, grabbed it, and moved back to his bed. After laying his back once again against the bed's head, he started examining it. The ink had faded out, giving off the feeling that someone had read this letter many times in the past. It was difficult to make out even a single word from this weathered paper, but only a couple of them where enough for Jack to understand.
“Dear Anne,” Jack read it out loud.
Who is this Anne?
He continued reading. “Hmm... arrived... the war is harsh... I miss you... be careful…” and it was going on and on. Near the end, he was able to clearly distinguish the stains that tears had made over the rough paper.
“What are you doing?” a woman's voice came from the other side of the room, close to where the door was. Jack raised his head slowly and saw the now dressed dancer watching him with her hands in front of her chest.