Her breath was hot on my neck. She pressed into me. I closed my eyes as she moved her hands lower. I couldn't think of her name. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure she told me; not that it really mattered anyway. She was just another piece of ass, and this was just another lay. She pushed me down onto the plush red couch while she closed the curtain. I could feel the bass from the music in my chest. She straddled my lap, started to dance, moving up and down. Her sheer lingerie lay on the floor and she was exposed. I could feel the heat of her sex through my pants.
"What do you want me to do?" She asked breathlessly.
I didn't want to reply, so I placed my hand on the back of her neck and guided her down. On her knees, she unfastened my belt, and took me in her hand.
She whispered, "Tell me you love me."
I pulled her hair making her back arch, and I looked into her eyes.
"I'm not here for love, and that's not what I'm paying you for. Stupid bitch." I coldly stated.
She stared at for a minute trying to read my expression. Then, she smiled and winked. "I understand." She said, and went to town.
Eventually, I picked her up and threw her on the couch. I took what I wanted, and didn't think twice. Then again, neither did she. It was her job. When we were both finished she asked, "Want to go get a drink or something? I get off in 20 minutes."
I pushed her off of me, and zipped my pants.
"No." I replied as I threw what I owed her in her face.
With that, I left. I staggered through the streets with no place to go, and not a care in the world. All the shots I had taken left me dizzy with clouded thoughts. I had no idea where I was. I removed my phone from my pocket only to see 20 missed calls from my sister, Rhyan. She acted like my mother. I didn't need a mother, and I sure as hell didn't need a father. Not that he ever really acted like one anyway.
He was an asshole, and I hated him. Who was I kidding? I acted just like him. We were both womanizers, junkies and alcoholics, filthy rich and always too strung out to give a fuck.
Except he made one thing very clear to me. He had "made something" of himself, and he would always be better than me. HA! Despite the fact that I hated him, I couldn't help but follow in his footsteps. Like father like son.
My self-loathing was interrupted by my phone buzzing in my hand.
"WHAT?!" I yelled.
And then I realized who it was.
"Rhye..." I began to cry, "I need your help."
I laid down on the street corner, and closed my eyes; letting everything fade to black.
