Listening to NKOTB took me back and one of my favorite film Pretty Woman came to mind. So this is my own take on the film inspired by New Kids On The Block "Take My Breath Away."
A/N: This story involves prostitution so if you're sensitive to that subject please don't read. You have been warned.
Boomerang - A Lyric Wheel Challenge, ONE-SHOT
Fucking Elliot. Fucking bitch. How could she do this to me? How could she fuck my brother behind my back? Haven't I given her enough? Food, clothes, sex. Everything she desired I was able to provide. What else did she want from me? They've been lying to me. Sneaking around like fucking teenagers instead of fessing up to me about their affair. I am ashamed to call him my brother. Never have I felt so incline to ruin him. Once I return home, I will get our problems situated. I will kick her ass out on the street and she can go and live with that lowlife brother of mine. See how she'll fair with someone as lazy and ambitionless as he is. Fuck her. Along with my personal issues, my deal with Sanders & Son had turn awry. It fell through when another offer became more enticing. What a waste of my time.
I sigh wearily, suddenly aware of my surroundings. What the fuck am I doing cruising around this part of the neighborhood? I've been driving aimlessly for the pass thirty minutes and subconsciously found myself in the most dangerous part of L.A. Only two specific type of people would even consider passing through here in this late hour: horny motherfuckers who needed to pay to desperately get laid or drug addicts looking for a quick fix. The scene is depressing.
Going with the speed limit, I focus on navigating my way out of the ghetto. I'm getting quite a few head turn from pimps and thugs. Must be the silver Audi rental I am driving. The vibe is formidably visible. I need to evacuate before things turn ugly.
I stop at the far right lane, attempting to make a right turn when I spot a brunette at the corner of the street leaning against the streetlight chatting into her phone. Just out of curiosity, I duck down and check her out. Although her hair is partially obstructing her face, I can tell her age looks to be around twenty-two or twenty-three, but her apparel is a major eyesore. Her outfit consists of a yellow tube top paired with a cobalt blue short-sleeve textured blazer, and the black faux leather mini skirt is a little too short for my liking. It's grating. Look at me - fussing over some girl's garb when she's not even mine.
Subconsciously, I wonder if she's a hooker, and if she is, how much would she charge for a blowjob. I frown to myself once my thoughts register. What the fuck was I thinking? That is illegal. I can go to jail if I get caught soliciting a hooker. The anger building up inside of me is clouding my judgement and I need to leave.
Step on it.
Tearing my eyes off her and back at the road again, I'm about to turn right when a faint of giggle tickles my ears and I realize the soothing sound came from her. It is genuine and carefree, and strangely, it evokes a smile on my face. Something I haven't encountered all day. I can't help but want to see her face that is partially hidden behind her long wavy chestnut hair. Maybe she's the solution to my problem. After everything that's happened today I could use a companion for the night. But it's wrong. Utterly wrong. Yet somehow it feels right.
Going with my instinct and against my moral, I roll down the passenger side window and muster up, "How much?" The two words I use often sounds foreign to me right about now. I'm a businessman and numbers are always tossed around in my field. It's mainly used to decide the purchasing of a company, but to directly buy sex is unprecedented.
Slicking her hair behind her ear, I can finally see the beauty beneath her thick mane. She's naturally pretty and looks nothing like a hooker. Unexpectedly she turns her attention to me, narrows her eyes contemptibly, and gives me the finger.
What. The. Hell.
I flinch. My first attempt at scoring a hooker and she's already put a damper on my venture. Her gesture leaves me disgruntled and I literally want to throw her over my lap and give her ass a ruthless spanking. The image disperses when a strawberry blonde, contemporary in age, presses up against the car door, obstructing half of my view of the brunette. I'll admit. She's a hot little number, but I'm not attracted to blondes. They're bland in comparison. Nothing intriguing to my sense. But I'd be lying if I say I've never fucked one.
"Hey, what's up, sugar," the blonde says seductively. "Like what you see?" she flirts and winks her glittery eyes to its full effect. But I'm not fazed. My gaze skirts pass her and lands on the brunette who just rolls her eyes at me. Her lack of manners are becoming a problem and is tainting her beautiful image. But, nonetheless, I still find her very attractive.
"I was talking to her," I jerk my head toward the brunette.
"Her?" the blonde points her thumb back at the brat, and the brat scoffs in return. "She's off duty." Then why the hell is she on the street wasting my valuable time? That's unacceptable. What type of business is she running? "What do you need? A blowjob? A hand job. The works?"
"I want her," I persist, studying the brunette from her head down to where my window cut her off below her thighs. She ignores my presence and diverts her attention elsewhere.
"I told you she's not available," the blonde stresses.
"Fine," I concede, and then accelerate, turning right.
"Wait, wait, wait," she clamps onto my window, her body clinging onto my vehicle like saran wrap. I brake sharply, giving her a moment to stop and catch her breath. "How much you got?" she pants.
"500."
"500?" Her eyes expand in disbelief. "Give me a second." She runs back quickly to negotiate with the brunette. I glance over my shoulder and observe as the blonde coerces her friend into accepting the deal. Seconds turn to minutes and I become warily impatient.
Fuck this shit!
It's not worth the trouble. As I let the car roll forward, the blonde takes notice and chases after, clinging on to my car again. I brake exasperatedly.
"Let go of my car," I demand.
"Just give me another minute, please," she heaves.
"Kate!" the brunette calls out and approaches her. So the blonde is Kate but I'm curious to know who the brunette is.
"What the fuck!" Kate barks as she pulls the brunette aside, most likely reproofing her for revealing her identity.
They are going at it for a while, throwing disapproving hand gestures and the like before Kate clasps her hands and begs the brunette. It is just fucking ridiculous. Maybe I should call it a night and save myself the headache. I release my brake again.
"Stop!" Kate yells. She lunges forward and plows into my car, halting me once again. This blonde is tenacious. "She'll do it," she says grinning with glee, and then goes and drags the brunette, who crosses her arms in disdain, toward my car before swinging my door open and planting the brunette onto my leather seat and locking her in. A scowl marks her fresh face.
"Five hundred dollars, one hour," Kate says.
"Three," I return.
"Two," she counters back. I deliberate for a second.
"Fine. Two hours." I don't know what the going rate for a hooker is, but I trust my judgement and two hours seems appropriate.
"Be gentle with her," she adds before quietly thanking her friend and then whisks off to reel in another client.
I pull into the street, finally, and drive off into familiar territory.
"What's your name?" I ask the brunette as she stares out her side window, anxiously knotting her fingers.
"Aurora," she mutters tensely. I chuckle to myself. All the names she could have chosen and she chooses the one that reminded me of my nanny during my formative years.
"Well, Aurora. For tonight I want you to address me as Sir. Got it?"
"Yes," she pauses in resistance, "Sir."
"Do me a favor, Aurora. Remove your tights." Now that I've finally gotten a closeup of her, the outfit she's donning is clearly trashy and offensive to my taste. Her checkered fishnet tights, sparsely ripped, is obscenely distracting. Looking further down, I realize she has on ballet flats. Stripes in white and black to be specific. Not the six-inch stilettos that people usually associate hookers with.
"Why?" she questions my request, glowering at me. I glance her way and catch a glimpse of her crystal blue eyes which are minimally enhanced. They're gorgeous and alluring, almost piercing through my soul.
"Because I am going to take you up to my suite and then I am going to fuck you there. I don't want that eyesore to attract any attention," I say openly. She huffs then do as she's told, reaching up her skirt, lifting her butt off the seat then rolling the unnecessary piece of accessory off her hips and down her legs. My eyes are fixed on the road but is suddenly derailed by the porcelain-like flesh of hers. My fingers clench onto the steering wheel, aching to touch the supple skin between her thighs. Idly, I wonder if she has hardwood floors or carpet. The image of her legs spreading before me possesses my mind and I'm sorely sexually frustrated. My trouser is constricting my hard on. Composing myself, I rein in my frustration with thoughts of my mother's upcoming birthday celebration. Completely effective.
"There's a coat in the back. I need you to put it on before we leave this car."
"Fine."
"Excuse me."
"Yes, Sir."
I had Aurora hook her arm with mine as we stroll across the lobby toward the elevator. The front desk clerk nods an acknowledgement and addresses me accordingly, not at all suspicious of my company. The Italian trench coat cloaked around her figure refines her overall appearance quite effectively. Upon entering the elevator, she loosens her grip and dangles her arm between us.
"Did I say you could let go?" I reprimand, side-glaring. She flusters then dutifully latches back on to my arm as we ride up in silence. It is too quiet, unfortunately. It forces me to reconsider the action I am about to take. My mind is reeling a mile a minute. Though collected and unconcerned on the outside, internally, I'm conflicted. Morally conflicted. The notion of buying sex is unethical. Sure, I wined and dined and lavished women with expensive gifts in exchange for sex, but directly handing a wad of cash to fuck a hooker is something out of the ordinary. It baffles me.
But I am angry. I am furious. I am enraged that my brother of all people has the nerve to go behind my back and fuck my girlfriend. My head is about to explode, my breathing sporadic. I want to beat Elliot to a pulp. No, I want to kill him. Although we've never been close, I never thought he would stoop that low and destroy what I had with Nicole. I'm riled up right about now just reflecting upon the situation that has led me to this. But I need to calm down before I do anything seriously irrational - not that I haven't done anything irrational yet. I respire deeply, casting my anger aside, and focus on the walk through the well-lit corridor with Aurora still obediently glued to my arm.
As I push open the door to the executive suite of the Four Seasons hotel, Aurora walks into the room with wide eye astonishment like she'd never stepped into a room of this proportion. I observe as she peruses the living room from one corner to the next then peers out to the city light from the floor to ceiling glass window. The view of downtown LA, at night, is exceptionally breathtaking from this high-rise building.
"Would you like a drink?" My offer breaks her trance, bringing her back to reality.
"No," she utters deep in thought, shaking her head.
"No?"
She turns and face me. "No, Sir."
"It'll loosen you up a little. You seem kinda tense." She remains inscrutably quiet. "You don't do this often, do you?"
"Can I use the bathroom?" she digresses.
"Sure. It's through the bedroom." She scurries off and disappears through the french door towards the en suite bathroom. I shake my head in amusement as I pour myself a glass of scotch. She must peg me a scumbag doing what I'm doing. I should have just contacted my dear friend, Elena, to help me get through this. She would have found someone for me to indulge for the night without reservation. It would have been less complicated. And less guilt on my part.
Sighing ambivalently, I toss back the warm amber liquid and remove my watch before undoing both my cufflinks. I strip off my dress shirt and drop it on the cold marble floor. Stepping out of my trousers, I scuff it aside along with the shirt. I'm stark naked and my erection is promptly in need of a release.
Aurora stumbles into the threshold of the room and balks at the sight of my hard on. Her eyes enlarge to epic proportion.
"What?" I question her expression. "Have you never encountered one of this size?"
"You see one, you see all," she retorts, shrugging.
"Get undress," I say irritatedly. My time is ticking and I don't want to waste it on words. She turns around and proceeds to the bathroom. "Where are you going?"
Spinning around, she says, "To get undress, Sir."
"I want you undressing before me." Her face blanches. She hesitates to move, gnawing on her bottom lip and wringing her fingers nervously. "What are you waiting for?"
"Can you turn off the light?" she asks timidly, appearing bashful. A bashful hooker? I frown. It takes me by surprise and entices me furthermore.
"That defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" I say, deadpan, as I inch in folding my arms. We lock eyes, scrutinizing one another. Her glare denotes her hatred for my string of demands, but I don't care. I always get what I want. And I want to see her strip before me. I raise my voice up a notch, "Take your clothes off."
Resentfully but dutifully, she begins to remove her blazer. "Slowly," I mutter, taking another step forward. She complies, measuredly pulling the blazer off her shoulders. Then just like peeling a banana and baring it's edible flesh, her yellow top comes off, revealing her white cotton strapless bra gracefully snugging her delectable breast. She shimmies down her skirt, and I lick my lips as my eyes sweep greedily over her semi-naked body. "Everything," I add, and reluctantly, both bra and panties hit the floor. My question is finally answered as I catch a glimpse of hair between the apex of her thighs. I prefer my women bare, but this will have to do for now. One of her arm curls across her breasts while the other drapes down and obstructs her private. Just like the portrait of Aphrodite. Alas, I am not paying her to replicate Aphrodite's pose. "Arms to your side. I want to see every inch of what I'm about to pay for." She swings her arms to her sides and turns her head away coyly.
Circling her 5'5" frame, I slowly drink in every inch of her god-given perfection. Her flesh - pale and porcelain like - is flawlessly kissable. Her breasts are perky, and just by the looks of it, is precisely a handful. Her slim hourglass figure fuels my desire to touch her. So, I do. She jerks from my touch, my fingers graze across her hips from one end to another. Perfect hips to latch on to while fucking her from behind.
Standing before her once again, I take hold of her jaw and crane her face to meet my carnal gaze.
"Show me your talent," I avert my eyes down at my erection. She swallows hard and contemplates. "What are you waiting for? You don't need guidance, do you?" Shaking her head erratically, she finally drops to her knees, and appraises my manhood. And then slowly and carefully, she stretches her soft lips over my tip and sucks.
Fuck.
I gasp, my hips jerk involuntarily. Sensation begins coursing through my system. Her warm wet mouth takes me in halfway and I breath out shakily. I thrust my fingers into her thick mane for anchorage, and she begins to move her head forward and back, forward and back, stroking my cock with perpetual bliss. My head falls back, my eyes roll up. I'm in pure ecstasy. She wraps her small hand around my base and continues the rhythm. I release a guttural moan that escapes my mouth.
Goodness, fuck!
I grip onto the edge of the TV stand, sitting beside us, for extra support. Her assault on my cock is relentless. My legs are about to give in and my impending release is closer than I anticipated. She pushes me in deeper and deeper, and I can feel the back of her throat. Does she not have a gag reflex?
Who gives a fuck!
One. Two. Three. I grunt as the sensation rips through me and I spill myself inside her pretty mouth. Retracting from my cock and containing my release, she looks up and waits for my order.
"Swallow it," I say. And just like that, she gradually forces my cum down her throat, and exhales in relief. I run my fingers down her cheek and stop at her mouth. "Open." She widens her mouth. Completely empty. "Good girl," I smile appreciatively and help her up. Unfortunately for her I am not finished yet. My hard on is starting anew. Leading her to the couch, I settle down comfortably on the cushion and part my legs. "Do it again." I am insatiable.
She gapes in disbelief before kneeling between my legs and tending to my cock. God, that pretty mouth of hers is enthralling. How many cocks have she sucked to perfect such a skill? I wonder. I lean back, gaze up at the ceiling, and sling my arms over the backrest as I relish our moment of rapture. The walls of her mouth keeps me high and I am floating. I am impervious to everything ominous right about now. I don't care about anything at this point. I have a solution for everything. Girlfriend? What girlfriend? I'll court me another one. I'm Christian Grey. I've got plenty of options. I'm happy for Elliot to have found such an exquisite girl on my behalf. I guess he likes my leftover. And as for the deal with Sanders & Son - screw them. They lost out on a great opportunity. I'll find me another deal soon. I always do. Smirking euphorically, I lean forward and watch Aurora as her head bobs up and down my cock.
Her hair gets in the way of my view so deliberately I push it out of her face and ask, "What's your real name?" A pretty face like hers must come with a pretty name. She pauses for a second, staring blankly at me then dismisses the question before resuming the head job. I snort in amusement, and straightening up on the couch, I reach down and grope her tits. She whimpers and squirms as I pinch a nipple. "You're very pretty." She disregards my comment, and I pinch her other nipple. Same response.
"Get up." She do as she's told and rise to her feet, wiping the excess juice from her mouth.
Grabbing the condom from the end table drawer, I sheath it over my erection.
"Get on top." She sinks her knees into the couch on either side of my thighs. Holding her hips, I align her pussy above my erection, and slowly push her down. I hiss as she gasps and reflexively grips onto my shoulder, slightly clawing into my flesh. As a repercussion for her continuous lack of manners, I am going to fuck her brains out.
I smile broadly, slouching on the slingback chair across from the couch, heaving from the aftermath of our fucking session. It is revitalizing. My head feels a hundred times lighter. Who knew fucking a hooker could be this good. I gaze at Aurora who is stretched out on the couch, debilitated. I might have been too rough on her. But I'm usually rough with every woman I fuck. I seldom make love. I find it too complicated. Which explains the lack of long-term relationship taking place in my life.
Aurora achingly rolls off the couch and crawls to gather her clothes scattered over the floor. "What are you doing?" I ask, showing a look of disapproval.
She balances a hand on the TV stand and gingerly pulls herself up, her clothes clutch against her body. "Where's my money?"
"I'm not finished yet." I spring up from my seat, and she staggers back.
"I want my money," she says softly but sternly.
"You'll get it once I'm finished," I tell her before I dip down and seize her thighs, hoisting her off the ground in one swift movement then throw her over my shoulder.
"Let go of me," she shrieks as she kicks her feet and thrashes her arms, fighting to escape my hold. I march us to the bedroom and toss her butt on the bed.
"Please," she backs up on the mattress, terrified. "Please let me go. You've got what you wanted."
"Did I?" I question, furrowing my brows, standing at the foot of the bed. "See - I'm a businessman, Aurora. And I take business very seriously. Now if I can remember correctly. The buddy of yours had granted me two hours of your service." Glancing at the bedside clock, I tell her, "And two hours is not up yet." We're only halfway finished. "If you want to go I'll let you go," I say in a compromising tone. "But then the deal is off...and you will not get your money... Understand."
She nods jerkily, frightened as she stammers, "Yes...Sir."
I sink my knees into the mattress and tower over her. My fingers lace her hair and she tilts her face up, choking back her tears. For a fleeting moment, I feel like the most disgusting pig on the planet. What am I doing to this poor girl? She doesn't deserve this. But she chose this. To ease her mind, my words come out compassionately soft, "I don't wish to hurt you... I just need you... More than anything right now." I close in over her quivering lips and lay a harmless kiss, alleviating her fear. They're soft and succulent against mine. Trailing down, I kiss her chin, neck, collarbone, the dip between her succulent breasts and her belly. Every part of her is divine. Even her glistening pussy. But I refrain myself from devouring it. The risk is too high. I can't take that chance. Instead I lay wet kisses over her sweet thighs.
"Condom on the nightstand," I say. "Open it."
She stretches an arm back, snatches the condom, and clumsily tears it open. I straighten up on my knees, my erection sticking out.
"Put it on."
She pulls the rubber out of its casing and leans forward. Her hands tremble in the process so I clamp her wrists still. With that, she pinches the tip of the rubber and rolls it over my cock. "Get on all fours," I say lowly. I love fucking from behind. The position grants me both pleasure and power. She tentatively rolls over then sticks her ass up in the air, arches her back, and parts her legs, ready for me. Strictly positioning behind her, I brush my hands up her thighs before spreading her cheeks. The sight is spectacular; her pussy is engorged and pulsating for me. Eagerly, I slam into her, and she groans loudly. The sound fuels me, excites me, and I feed on it.
I flop my back against the mattress as my release consumes me. Aurora falls forward beside me, her face plunges into the pillow. We catch our breath as we come down from our high. My eyes remain glued to the intricate ceiling, completely spent. It is absolutely what I needed. My mind is clearer, less susceptible now. Grinning, I curl to my side and gaze at Aurora. Her eyes are closed and resting, wheezing soundly. Long thick lashes fan out beautifully over the curve of her cheeks. I can't help but gaze at her endearingly in her state of unconsciousness. God, she looks so innocent and angelic it nearly takes my breath away. How can someone so young and beautiful put herself in such position? It saddens me to see women selling themselves short. And it doesn't help that I just contributed to the cause. I sigh. Life is never fair. Not everyone is born with a silver spoon in their mouth. And that includes me. Maybe I can have her work for me. Be my personal assistant's assistant. Make her an offer she can't refuse. That would keep her off the streets. Grey, you're getting way ahead of yourself. I snort, shaking the ridiculous concept out of my head. It's getting late. I have an early flight back to Seattle tomorrow morning. I need to drop her off and get some sleep.
"Hey," I nudge her arm. She doesn't respond. I attempt once more, but she stirs and turns her face the other direction. She's one of those deep sleeper. I blow a sharp breath and read the alarm clock. There's still thirty minutes remaining. I guess she deserves a little nap after the energy she's exerted pleasuring me. Reeling off the mattress, I pull the comforter over her and pad to the bathroom for a much needed shower.
Securing a towel around my waist, I swipe the hazy mirror to appraise the damage. The scars on my shoulders are quite visible. I remember her digging into my skin when I pushed up deep inside her. But the pleasure of sex overrides the modicum of pain she'd imposed upon me. I've got a high tolerant for pain. I scour my body for more bruises but can't find anything severe worth noting.
"Aurora," I call as I walk into the threshold of the bedroom half-naked. No response from her. I pull back the comforter to find the bed empty. She's not here. Where did she go? "Aurora," my voice is strained, pacing to the living room. There's no sign of her. Even her clothes are gone.
What the fuck!
Panic begins to set in. I rush straight toward the end table in search of my belongings. I ransack the entire room: tossing the pillows and cushions off the couch, emptying the end table drawers, shoving the coffee table aside, and flipping everything I can get my hands on. It is pointless. My breathing is ragged and rough as I stand in the center of the room, overlooking the damaged brought upon by me. The once tidy immaculate room has warped into a tornado of a mess. She took everything invaluable to me.
My wallet. My coat. My Rolex watch.
Gone.
Gone.
GONE.
My hands fist, my jaw clenches.
"Arrrrrgh!"
Fucking whore!
I stride toward my cell phone, which she spared, sitting atop the TV stand, and dial a number.
"Sloane," I pace back and forth, furiously running my fingers through my hair, "I've got a huge problem…" I trail as a yellow notepaper hanging on the doorknob catches my attention. I haste toward it and rip it off the door. A message scrawled in red ink deliberately taunts me.
Guess we'll both be sore by tomorrow. A.
My chest rumbles, my eyes narrow vindictively, seething with anger. Crumpling the note, I pitch it across the room and roar in pure rage. My heart's racing, adrenaline pumping. No one fucks with me and get away with it. No one. I am determined. I have one thing and one thing on my mind. I am going to hunt that bitch down and fuck her up. Mark my words.