4-27-2014
Disclaimer: Sadly, I still don't own Randy Orton, nor do I own John Cena. I don't even own Dawn Marie. FML..
Words: 8,573
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"I want your drama, the touch of your hand
I want your leather studded kiss in the sand."
- Lady Gaga "Bad Romance"
o2.
Kiss
Morning
"Mornin' to ya, Orton. Going up?"
"Yeah, that's fine. How are the kids and wife doing, Ric?"
"Oh, great. Billie's still a pain in the ass even after 20 years together, but what'll change?"
Chuckling. Laughter. Conversation.
"Well, tell Billie and the kids I said, "Hello,""
"Will do. I heard Vince McMahon and his son are going to be here to close up that stock deal today,"
Shuffling. The elevator doors closes. The number 15 lights up on top of the elevator. Ding. Ding. 18th floor. Almost there.
"Yes, I have a meeting with them this morning,"
"Great going, Orton. Bring it on home for us,"
The thing that excites me the most about booze is the feeling it gives to the person who injected into their body hours earlier. Your never to sure if it will give you the power of being able to run a marathon or protect someone viciously as if you were Superman, or it can be your Kryptonite; destroying and leaving you at the own pit of your destruction. As much as I had a love and committed relationship for Jack Daniels and Whiskey, I couldn't handle the feeling of whatever was placed in the drink I received at Dawn's soireé the previous night before. I didn't have a definite plan on how I should act during my meeting today, due with the pain of my headache and the incapability of my own joints letting me stand fully without any pain, but I'm sure I would figure something out. I didn't stress over the situation, nor did I panic. Panicking gets a man no-where; when you panic, you make stupid decisions. Even though I was granted the title of C.E.O. of the AnvilBryan Stock Company and I worked the business up from being in a small, little store that I bought from aging Mrs. Wu who used to own the Golden Wu Needle & Thread Shop, to the company now being in a large, 20 floor building, I had no time or room for error. One mistake and my face is plastered on the 11 o'clock news for not being able to handle the pressures of running the company. Bad press is not always good press; the more bad press I gain, the more I lose customers; the more I lose customers, the more I lose money, and I couldn't lose any money, now could I?
My infatuation for money was going to lead to my downfall, that much I was sure of. I was never one to believe or model myself after any old movie character, but in every classic gangster movie that I had in my movie collection or I borrowed from Dawn's, greed or drugs was always the downfall to the main character; Dawn and I had an intense love for Al Pacino's role in Scarface, and it's easy to pin-point that greed and power was Tony's lead to his demise. I was sure I wouldn't die in a takeover of my penthouse that involved me being shot multiple times to death, but still, I knew I was thankful enough to say that I made enough money at the current age of 25 that I would never have to work again a day in my life, and I had no true enemies. With that thought in mind, maybe it was time I'd stop spending my money on myself and on something else. Maybe I could take Dawn out to the movies or shopping or something. She hadn't stopped talking about a new Spring collection of Chanel and Prada suits that were being sworn into stores, and I knew she would simply die in happiness if I surprised her with not only one or two suits, but the whole collection.
Stepping out of the elevator and giving a small goodbye wave to Ric Flair - the current Vice President of AnvilBryan Stocks and my mentor - I strolled in onto the 19th floor, the same place where Maria, my assistant and receptionist, had her desk placed in the main view of the hall and where my large office was located. Passing my busy workers and visitors was nothing new or exciting; I did this on the daily. The difference maker of today was, I was stared at more than I usually was. From the majority of time, my stares are usually from women who want me to take them into my office and bend them over and fuck them on the top of my desk. Today, men who I knew were married were staring at me with looks that I couldn't decipher and read. Women gave me disappointed looks and glances that matched the men's. I was sure the hickeys that were on my neck from the previous night were covered by the navy blue silk Armani dress shirt I purchased a few days ago. Maybe people were staring at me because of how impeccably dressed I was today. I had on an Armani shirt with a black Gucci tie with the small interlocking G's printed all over it and a lighter version of navy blue that colored my Marc Jacobs suit. A shiny pair of fine, black, Italian Stacy Adams oxfords covered my feet and my usual black briefcase was clenched in my right hand, that had a silver and diamond Rolex sitting above it on my wrist. Still, with as expensive as I was dressed, this was a norm for me. This couldn't be the reason why I was receiving all of these stares. Maybe my hickeys were showing. Maybe the smell of booze still radiated off my body even though I sprayed enough Drakkar Noir cologne on myself to last a lifetime. Looking at my watch, I read the time of 9:30 A.M. Mr. McMahon and his son weren't scheduled to be here until 11:00, so that gave me about a hour and 30 minutes to prepare. Me being late wasn't the reason for these incredible stares, and I couldn't understand why I was being looked at this way.
It was beginning to annoy me.
"Good morning, Mr. Orton. Looking sharp today," My secretary, Maria said to me.
Maria Kanellis, a beautiful woman with such a dim-witted mind. I don't know why I hired Maria to be my assistant, nor do I know why I haven't gotten her in an inch of the backseat of my Benz. I had a strict point of not to have sex with any of my assistants, but Maria did it to me. She possessed such a beautiful face with high cheekbones and a beautiful figure. Her hair was a firery red and she had the purest green eyes that reminded me of emeralds. She was a beautiful sight to see. Still, she had no smarts in her head and I was a man who searched for perfection when it came to women who I wanted to take seriously. I talked to her for a few minutes after I interviewed her, and I felt as if my brain was going to melt from her lack of intelligence. Still, she worked three previous jobs as being a receptionist, so she obviously took notes and calls in a correct order and manner, and she was beautiful, that was a big plus in my criteria. With that being said, I knew the most Maria and I would go would probably be a decent 40 minute fuck on top of my white, leather interior seats of my Benz. Nothing more, nothing less.
I gave her a small smile and nod, "Thank you,"
"A visitor came for you, Mr. Orton," Maria replied back as I began to walk away from her.
"At what time?" I asked curiously.
"Around 9:15, Mr. Orton,"
I raised my eyebrows, as I began to look around, "Well, where are they?"
"She requested that she stay in your office until you came here. She said that you wouldn't mind it,"
Did she just say that she let some woman into my office? What the hell was wrong with Maria this morning? Squinting my eyes in annoyance, I asked, "Did they leave their name?"
"A Ms. Marie,"
The anger I previously had in my body melted away quickly as I realized it was just Dawn who was waiting for me. "Thank you, Maria,"
As I began to walk off, I heard her say, "You're welcome, Mr. Orton,"
Walking into my office, the sight of seeing Dawn looking over all the achievements and pictures in my room made me proud to say I was granted all these awards and landmarks in my life when I was still so young. It even made me more thankful that I had a woman who was as gorgeous as Dawn admire everything I had ever done in my career. Looking her over, for the first time in my life, my heart raced with so much attraction and care I've ever had for a woman. I thought Dawn was a Goddess in her own right. She looked like the type of woman who deserved to be on magazines covers and have men cater to her every whim and desire. Her long, dark hair was ridden of it's usual beautiful, fluffed curls and now was bone straight and shiny as ever, falling down to the middle of her back. A white blouse buttoned up to her neck covered her torso and a pair of loose-but-form-flattering abstract printed Alexander McQueen shorts were on her lower part, showing off her beautiful, tanned legs. White stilettos were on her small feet and pearl jewelry was draped on her wrist and neck. Large pearl studs were lodged into her lobes while a beautiful array of Spring colored makeup covered her beautiful face. A large, white Emilio Pucci purse laid on my desk behind my gold nameplate and I was thankful to know a woman who cared so much about her appearance, was able to name actual high-brand designers that the average person didn't know, and could dress her ass off. Looking back to me, she gave me a beautiful, white smile with beautiful MAC red lipstick covering her lips. Her smile was beautiful as ever; it belonged in a Colgate ad.
There was no defeat of the thought that I would take Dawn as my wife before I died.
No doubt about it at all.
Putting my feelings of lust and attraction to the side, I continued my stroll and yawned slightly before going over to the large and wide window that reached from one side of my wall to the other in my office and staring down to look at all the people in the streets below us. Over 300 people had to be crowding the sidewalks and stores. I could hear the loud, common yells New Yorkers gave to each other; I could hear the loud giggles of children and small babies and toddlers. I could smell the out-rays of conflicting foods that gave me a headache. Onions being mixed with cinnamon; cinnamon being mixed with fried food… ugh, it felt like I had more of a migraine than a headache. Through the reflection of the window, I could see Dawn had now sat down and crossed her legs, an imprint of her thigh being shown to me. A part of me was deeply mad at Dawn for trying to set me up with an asshole like John Cena who fucked me in a state that I could barely remember anything. Another part was deeply attracted and breaking the mold of my anger with her because I knew she looked as good as she did not only because of her being so vain, but because she was dressing up for me. Dawn had a complexity about her that pissed me off so much, but I could never stay mad at her for too long. Once she gave me that beautiful smile and spoke my name, my anger was gone. Her hands shot up to her hair as she finger combed it, and I couldn't help but look at her left hand.
The light hit the diamond on her wedding ring that Al had given her.
That small fucking diamond. I could've gotten her one four times that size.
"I don't like your secretary," Dawn mused to me, making herself comfortable as she leaned back in the leather chair she had placed herself in.
I raised my eyebrows in amusement. "Oh yeah? And why is that,"
"She's too pretty," Dawn spoke. "Not as pretty as me, but still, she's too pretty,"
I chuckled, "You expect me to fire a woman you don't like because you think she's pretty? What are you worried of? Me fucking her?"
Getting up, she walked over to me, one beautiful foot crossing in front of the other, her large breasts bouncing with each step she took. Standing next to me, she grinned, "Maybe," Sighing, she looked down through the window at the people who crowded the streets. "Look at the poor creatures," She grimaced. "They're all in a rush to get somewhere. It's sad,"
"Well, you aren't any of them, so why are you worrying about it?" I asked her.
"Geesh, it was just a thought, Randal," She spoke. "Hey, do you have any singles on you?"
I quickly thought about how much money I had in my wallet. Over $300. Me personally, I was a man who liked to carry around large bills, but I was sure I had a few loose Washington's somewhere in my leather wallet. "I might," I paused to check it and gave Dawn the small amount of five singles that were in my wallet. "What are you going to do with it?"
She paused, and went over to the only window in the office that opened - it was a small one - and waved me over. Giggling like a mischievous, school girl, she threw a dollar out the window and giggled in amazement at what she saw. "Randy, look! Look at all the people scurrying over that one dollar bill. A fucking Washington; look at it," She spoke, pointing to man who looked as happy as ever to see money falling from the sky as he grabbed the dollar and continued his walk.
"Alright now, who's gonna get the next one?" She mused to herself as she threw another one and laughed at a man who pushed some lankly teenager out the way to get it. He eagerly stuffed it into his pocket and walked as if he had did nothing out the ordinary for just one measly dollar. I couldn't help but laugh with her at what she was doing. She was such a free spirit and a breath of fresh air, and for those reasons I easily loved her with every fiber being in my body.
"Alright, the big finale, let's throw three at one time and she what's gonna happen," She giggled once more and spoke, "Drum-roll," She patted her thighs in a steady beat as her drum-roll and threw the last remaining three dollars and spoke, "And their off! Get the money! Get the money!" She spoke in amusement. She watched and giggled at the groups of people who were wrestling to get to those three measly dollars that was nothing but pocket change to Dawn and I. We could easily blow five thousand dollars like it was nothing. Money wasn't a problem to us, at all.
Giggling, she moved away from the window and I couldn't help but stare at her ass with each step she took, "Oh, Randy, that was so much fun. Next time, let's go on the subway and throw money and see how those people act,"
"You? In a subway? Aren't you afraid your heels will get dirty?" I teased her.
"I can throw on a pair of heels I don't want anymore," She spoke, like her $500 and up heels were nothing. "How was my party last night?" Dawn asked, a curious look on her face.
The party. I was hoping she wouldn't bring it up because it completely left my mind.
Now, I have a reason to be angry with her.
The smile I had on my face from chuckling with her was wiped quickly off my face, "Terrible. Don't ever fucking invite me to a party of yours again, Dawn,"
A look of astonishment at my tone of voice was now on her face, "Excuse me? What the fuck did I do to you?"
"I told you I didn't want to go and you made me go, anyway!" I argued with her.
"Well excuse me for wanting you to have some fucking fun in your fucking boring life! What was so bad about my party anyway? Huh? Are you upset that someone chased after you instead of you chasing after them?!" Dawn pestered me.
"I'm mad at you for fucking introducing me to fucking Cena and not listening to me when I tried to fucking talk to you about it," I whispered, but yelled to her all at the same time. I realized our voices were getting louder than the normal voice level for office standards, and I already had people staring at me with curosity when I walked inside. I couldn't have them staring at me for arguing with a woman who wasn't my girlfriend, nor was my wife.
"Oh, stop being a baby, Randy," Dawn dismissed me, turning her head as her dark eyes rolled in annoyance. "So what if he likes you? It's not like you two fucked or anything. "
"It's not like you two fucked or anything."
She must not know the whole truth.
"I talked to John this morning and he said it was a pleasure meeting you and he hopes to see you again very soon in the future," I swallowed hard at Dawn's words for reasons unknown.
I was worried. Worried that Cena was playing this Angel role and that it was unbelievable for him to drug me and fuck me in such an unconscious state, and even more worried that he had Dawn on his side, which meant she favored the both of us. I was sure Dawn would never betray me to take someone else's side - besides her husband - but I could never be too sure. Women were always emotional and who knows? She could be on his side because of the small argument we just engaged in. I was was worried that I would have to see him again because I knew we would cross paths in the future and for the first time in my life, I was fearful for the actions of what I thought he could to me. If he could drug me in a completely, alert, stable state, what could he do to me when I was asleep or caught off-guard? I eyed Dawn some more before I swallowed my pride and gave her a bullshit apology which she quickly accepted, saying that she knew I didn't mean to yell at her the way I did and I was just tired from the stress and worry I had over closing and locking this deal with Vince McMahon and McMahon Enterprises. I watched as she took her purse off my desk and flung it over shoulder before moving closer to me, the usual Chanel No. 5 perfume she wore invading my nostrils and bringing me on the brinks of serenity and pleasure.
"Mr. Orton?" I heard Maria's voice come over through the intercom and PA System that was built into my large, mahogany carved desk. Walking over to it, I pressed the button on the stage-set of the intercom and responded back, "Yes, Maria?"
"Mr. McMahon and his son are here to see you about the stock bond exchanges,"
Looking over at Dawn, I saw her staring at me with a deep look of admiration on her face. I quickly spoke, "Send them up, please,"
"Right away, Mr. Orton," Maria responded before closing in.
Looking back to Dawn, I gave her a sheepish smile before saying, "This is the part where you leave,"
She gave a beautiful, elegant laugh before raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, "You throwing me out, Randy?"
"I am, but I wouldn't say it," I spoke before I walked her over to the door of my office and opened it for her. She looked at me and grinned before chucking and mumbling something I couldn't pick up under her breath. She gave me a small shrug before walking out. She barely made it down the hall before my eyes were all over the curves and her beautiful legs that were exposed due to her shorts.
"Dawn!" I called out to her.
She stopped walking, indicating she heard me yell her name, but she didn't face to look at me, which caused me to chuckle at how much she loved for me to chase after her. "Have dinner with me later! There's this French restaurant that just opened up off 164th and Broadway in the Bronx!"
"I like Italian better," She called back to me, not daring to look back at me, but throwing an extra switch into her hips as she walked away, knowing that I would be looking.
I did nothing but chuckle and shake my head at her sly remarks and sarcasm.
As I waited for the McMahons to report to my office to begin our meeting, a flash of red blinked and throughout the corner of my vision, I could see it was from my answering machine. Walking over to it, I pressed the button to let my messages play and awaited to see who had left me a message, and wondered how I hadn't even heard my phone ring or heard Maria through the PA System when she may have reported that I had a call waiting.
"You have one new message: Randy, this is John. Isn't it funny how I don't even know where your work building is, but I found the number for it, just like that? Anyway, I just called to say hello. It would be rude if I didn't give you a call back after everything. Well, take care, see you soon,"
My body went numb and I clenched my jaw in not only anger, but fear at what I just heard from my answering machine.
Hearing the door open, I watched as the large and in charge, Vince McMahon and his son, Shane, walked through the door, dressed as expensive as I was, living in and basking in an air that only people of wealth possessed.
"Mr. Orton, nice to meet you. You know my son, Shane," Vince spoke to me as he shook my head and gave me a smile that was etched into the features of his old, skin that was marked with wrinkles of experience.
"Yes, yes I do," I spoke, before going over to shake Shane's hand, "Nice to see you both again. Can I offer you two anything?"
"Oh, no," Shane spoke, before sitting down in the same leather chair Dawn had sat in moments before when she was still here. "I'm fine. Dad, would you like anything?"
"No, I'm fine as well," Vince replied back before looking around my office. "Some place you got here, Orton! I'm very impressed,"
Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my slacks, I did nothing but shrug, showing that his compliments weren't filling the air in my head, but I did give a small grin to show that I wasn't conceited, even though Dawn would disagree otherwise. "Thank you. I have this personal designer who laid everything out for me who works over at IKEA,"
As I watched the McMahons get comfortable in the luxuries of my office, I reached for my briefcase and stared deep in thought of my new found emotions at my answering machine. Wiping the look of shock from my face, I cleared my voice and looked at the father and son before speaking,
"Okay, let's begin this meeting,"
Evening
"...And what may I get you to drink on, this evening?"
"You can get us a bottle of your oldest red wine,"
"Good choice. I'll be back with your meals and drink right away, Sir,"
"Okay, thank you,"
Taking Dawn out to dinner was nothing big or extraordinary. Whenever I wanted to take Dawn somewhere, I always made sure we never went to the same place more than once. She was a woman who I believed deserved the finest things and new experiences. Even though I really did want to try the new French restaurant that had just opened up in the Bronx, Dawn requested that we try Italian tonight, even though I know for the most part she didn't have a problem with French or any other culture of food at all. Managing to find a new Italian restaurant was anything but stellar. I had taken Dawn to so many Italian restaurants during the course of our two year friendship that I was beginning to run out of options. Still, I was lucky enough to find this new Italian spot that just opened in Manhattan, a few blocks down from my office building. I'm not sure on how I missed the new establishment. Still, staring at Dawn from across the fine wooden table that was draped with a delicate white table cloth made the expensive place worth it. An Italian band sat in the front center of the restaurant and as they played and sang songs in their native language of Italian, I watched as Dawn tapped her fingers on the arm rest of her chair in sync with the songs. I could tell she was enjoying herself and I was gaining even more points in her eyes than I already had.
As usual, I thought Dawn looked beautiful. Her hair was back in it's usual fluffed curls, with one remainder of her hair going down her back and the other flowing down her shoulder. A sexy black gown with a peek-a-boo lining in the front of the dress was on her body, showing off her large DD breasts and her tanned and flat stomach. When I asked her the brand of the beautiful, black gown with the satin material, she replied back with her usual vain voice, "It's Givenchy," Her black Christian Louboutins trapped her feet and a black and white Stella McCartney purse sat delicately on her lap. I could tell she had just went to get a manicure, the elegant white French tip was lined against her nails and a clear top coat was painted over it. As usual, her favorite brand of make-up, MAC, coated her beautiful face and highlighted all of her beautiful features. She looked rich, expensive, beautiful and powerful all at the same time.
Most importantly, she looked like she was mine.
As the waiter came back with our wine and meals, a basket of fresh, steaming bread was placed in the middle of our table. I watched with joy as the excitement in Dawn's eyes twinkled at what she saw. Her eyes shot from the decorative bottle of 65-year-old red wine, the fresh bread, and then to the beautiful plate of Cilantro Lime Shrimp pasta that was delivered to her and the nicely prepared Glazed Salmon and Angel Hair Pasta that was given to me. Once the waiters left, she did nothing but smile at me in thanks and begin to take small bites of her food that I knew gave her a deep sensation, being that I saw her eyes roll into the back of her head in like. Our dinner date was usual; we talked, we laughed, we drank. We talked about business at the Stock Company and we talked about Dawn's life, being that she had just left her job at the Bridal company in Queens. We talked about her marriage, which Dawn said that even though she truly did "love" old Al Wilson, she was beginning to grow tired of him and wanted something more from marriage.
They had been married for 5 years and Dawn was now at the age of 24, making her a year younger than me. She told me the story of how they met: Dawn had just ran away from her home in New Jersey and she moved to New York, hoping to make it big on Broadway. She was only 19-years-old and was busting tables working as a waitress in a Dennys. One morning, she was thankful enough to meet Al Wilson, who was there, ordering stacks of pancakes while completing a crossword puzzle in the newspaper. At 19, Dawn realized Al was 37-years-older than her, making him a whopping 56-years-old. She said some bullshit about how it was love at first sight and they married in the first three weeks of their relationship. She was 24 now, young, beautiful, smart and ready for the world, while Al Wilson was 61, old, sagging, and ready for retirement. As smart as I was, I never understood the marriage or the relationship, but I didn't bother Dawn with it.
I was just waiting for the demise of their marriage because I knew it was coming soon.
"When are you going to get married, Randy?" Dawn asked me suddenly while sipping on her glass of wine.
Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head at her question before speaking, "Never. Marriage is for chumps,"
"Oh, are you calling me a chump now?" Dawn asked, teasingly.
"No. The bastard you're married too is one, though,"
Her face dropped and she she looked away as she set her glass down. "You know, I will not have you talk about my husband for too much longer. I wish you'd stop being so jealous, Randy. It's pathetic,"
I rolled my eyes and waved a waiter over who was offering fine, Cuban cigars. I chose one and placed it in my mouth before he lit it for me in my favor. I thanked him with a nod and he moved over to the next table of customers. "Pathetic of what?" I challenged her. "Pathetic of an old ass man who had to marry a fucking woman 40-years-younger than him? No, that's pathetic,"
"You being jealous of a man you don't even know is pathetic, Randy. Are you upset because I'm not married to you?" Dawn countered, in an icy tone.
Yes, yes I am. I thought in my head.
"Yes, I'm jealous of a man who only gets hard from taking Viagra and requires sponge baths. I'm so jealous of that blissful marriage, Dawn. Better yet, I'm jealous of you because you live such happiness with your old ass husband," I replied in a smart tone.
She threw her napkin down on the table with extreme force and gave me a look of death, "Randy, shut up,"
"Oh, is Ms. Marie scared of the truth?" I antagonized her. "Is she afraid that everyone is secretly laughing at her behind her back because she's married to man that's old enough to be on his death bed?"
"Randy, shut up,"
"I'm not finished," I spoke in a low, growl as I stared at her, matching the intensity in her eyes. "Or are you afraid that you realized you only got married because you were alone, broke, poor, scared and unsure that-"
Smack!
"I said shut up!" She yelled at me with a slap to the face.
The gasps and look of shock the other patrons gave us in the restaurant made me sure that we were putting on a show for everyone. As much as I saw red when her hand connected to my face, I realized I couldn't hit her back or at least grab her to restrain her. We were in public, not in the privacy of my penthouse or car. I would just have to take the brief assault and listen to what she had to say. I knew I was already made to look like the asshole in the situation, so I decided to just stay quiet and let Dawn give me all of her anger. Besides the point, I knew I somewhat deserved it for annoying her like I did, but I didn't care. I wad mad and bewildered at the fact that Dawn knew I loved her with all of my heart and she still wouldn't dare give the time of day, move in with me, start a relationship, or at the very least any give me any pussy. What was I doing wrong in the equation that was us?
Something wasn't adding up.
"What makes you so much better than me?!" Dawn yelled, staring at me with hurt in her face. "You fuck random women all the time but you make fun of me for being married to someone I care about! I'm sick of it, Randy! I'm. Sick. Of. It! You're not better than me! You think just because we have a friendship now that erases the past?! Well, it doesn't! You're not better than me! You're just as worse!"
Breathing heavily, she spoke, "I don't need this shit. I'm leaving," As she finished her tirade, I stared at her deep in her face and noticed something in her eyes I hadn't seen in over a year.
Tears.
I made her cry again.
Fuck.
She grabbed her purse and rushed out the restaurant, in tears, bawling and frantic with every fiber in her being. Instantly, I shot up and ran after her, something I never did for women, something I never dreamed of doing. When it came to women's emotions, I could give a damn on how they felt, but Dawn, this was the love of my life. If anyone hurt her, then I would hurt them in the process. Still, I knew I had to make the situation right and apologize to her. It amazed me on how fast she ran out of the restaurant in those amazing 5 inch Louboutin heels. When I got into the busy evening streets of Manhattan, I searched all over for Dawn's amazing presence when I realized she had gotten into a taxi. It sped off with ridiculous speed and I realized from the direction it was going in, she had requested to go home back to Pellham Bay, the same suburbs were she and Al resided.
...
After letting the valet bring me my Benz, I got into it and sped off to chase after her.
"Fuck me, Randy! Oh, fuck me harder!"
My breath is weak. Fuck, I'm out of breath.
I'm falling near exhaustion.
I think I'm going to faint. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm going to faint.
Flashbacks fall in my mind. Dirty Magazines. XXX movies. Cum all over the place. Shit, Dawn made me feel good. I leaned my head forward and sucked hungrily on her brown nipples as she stayed on top of me, moving her hips back and forth, squeezing her tight sex over mine, moans falling deep out of her mouth. Shit. I didn't break concentration with Dawn, nothing would allow me too. I hadn't felt myself inside of her for so long and this was a situation I wouldn't let slip away from me.
She started to buck her hips and bounce up and down on me as if my cock was a horse that was going down the steepest hill in the world. Her nails dug deep into my back and her legs flowed over my legs like the breeze in the wind. I leaned my head up and kissed her deep as she continued to bounce up and down on me, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. Cum was already stained all over the place. Some from when we fucked on the floor, and other from when we fucked on the silk sheets of her and Al's bed. She moaned my name deep into my mouth as we kissed, and all I could do was raise my hand and smack her hardly on the ass. Without breaking concentration, I leaned over and threw her on her back, before slamming my cock deep inside her dripping wet sex.
"Fuck me, Randy. Fuck me good."
I built up a rhythm so furious that it blurred my vision and made the muscles in my arms go weak on contact. Dawn continued to scream out profanities and my name in passion as she kept her legs forced into the bed as my cock plagued deep inside of her. She moaned, she bucked. I groaned, I pulled her hair and continue to slam into her with all my might. I felt the cum start to shoot out of my system and I couldn't resist to let myself stay deep inside of her as more of the white liquid went out of me and inside of her. We weren't using protection. It was a stupid move of mine, but when Dawn brought up the idea of sex to heal her feelings of sadness and anger towards me, I couldn't say no.
We both let out loud moans in pleasure as we reached our orgasms at the same time.
Fuck. That was good.
I breathed heavy, my chest rising quickly up and down and watched as Dawn curled underneath the sheets of her bed, not saying anything as she pulled me close to her and laid her head on my chest. I held her and stared at the ceiling, not daring to speak a word. No words were meant to be spoken. Things were perfect in the silence of what we were doing right now.
The idea of Dawn and I fucking after I had just made her cry in a restaurant only a few hours earlier not only bewildered her, but bewildered me too. I had rushed over to Pellham Bay, driving a mere hour before I reached her house. I knocked on the door repeatedly and even though she refused to let me in, she did just as I was leaving. We talked over coffee and I apologized to her, even though I didn't mean any of it at all. Now, I was going to leave it at my apology, but for some reason, Dawn wouldn't leave me alone. She gave me looks of recognizable lust and twinkles in her eye that made me want her as much as I knew she wanted me. The more Dawn moved closer to me, the more I could feel the heat of passion rise between the both of us. She leaned in first and before I knew it, we were kissing as passionate as ever and I had her in her bedroom, fucking her over and over and giving her all of me. We were wrestling at first, seeing who would gain the upper hand before we just stopped and declared each other winners. We danced and grinded with each other for as long as I could remember and it gave me sensations of feelings I couldn't believe.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled again as I wrapped my arms around her, mumbling deep in a sleepy voice.
Dawn did nothing but blow out a breath of air and moved her hair back as she cradled up to me even more, "Randy, are you being nice to me?" She teased.
I rolled my eyes, "Oh shut up. Aren't I always nice to you?"
She chuckled lowly and played with the ring on her finger, "I guess,"
As we continued our talk, we suddenly heard a car door slam, causing both of us to perk up with extreme sense. Dawn, who was still naked, rushed over to the window and on instant contact, her beautiful face dropped with shock, fear and embarrassment, emotions that rarely expressed on her face. As she ran around the room, a sense of panic quickly took over the atmosphere as she rushed to get her clothes and placed them on her body. A mumble of cuss words shot out her mouth and she ran over to me and whispered in her most hushed and distraught voice, "Get up! Randy! You have to go now!"
As she pushed me out of the bed and began throwing me my clothes, I asked her simply, "What's wrong?!"
"Al is home," She whispered and as I looked down to her beautiful body, she was fully clothed in a Bebe sweatsuit, with any evidence of her infidelity wiped clean off her body and face. We both heard the front door open and our heads shot to the direction of the door as quick as ever, before we both realized they was no escape route for me to take. I couldn't go out the window; we were trapped on the 3rd floor of their house in Pellham Bay. I couldn't go out the front door; Al was still somewhere in the main living room and if I walked out with the hickeys Dawn left on my neck, we would surely be busted. What was the only option left?
The fucking closet.
Dawn quickly pushed me into it and I found myself in the darkness, surrounded by Dawn's expensive clothes and what I was sure was Al's suits and his clothes. I was stuck there, in my underwear with a sense of anger in my body as I'm sure my tanned skin was on the brink of turning red. Hearing the front door shut close and shuffles of feet throughout the bedroom indicated that Al and Dawn were finally together. I heard the usual bullshit, "How was your day? ...That's good. Mines was okay." It was a bunch of bullshit and I nearly snorted at their conversation. Is this what Dawn passes me up for? Mild conversation with someone old enough to be her father? 5 seconds turned into 5 minutes and I was sure I would never get out that closet - at least not tonight. As I stood there, a million thoughts were running through my mind: why was Dawn even entertaining Al? Why did I let her push me into a fucking closet? Why did I love her as much as I did? Why didn't she get Al out for me? I gritted my teeth and tried my best not to make any noise. Why was I still trying to protect her? Fuck Dawn. No, wait, I didn't really mean that. We all say stupid things out of anger. I knew I was angry when Dawn pushed me into the closet to hide, but that didn't have shit on how angry I grew when I heard their love making and Dawn pushing out Al's name with moans.
I'd never felt like more of a jackass in my entire life.
Sunrise | The Following Day
When did I fall asleep? I don't remember. When did I wake up? I don't remember that either. All I know is I fell asleep and when I woke up, I was laying uncomfortably on top of Dawn's heels and Al's shoes. Opening the door open slightly, I had a full view of the bed and I saw no one in the room. I quickly placed my suit on and my shoes as quietly as possible and high tailed out their empty house, managing to let none of their neighbors see me. Getting into my car was easy, but erasing all the bullshit that Dawn put me through last night was hard. As I swerved out of Pellham Bay and made my way back home to my Penthouse in Manhattan, something told me I should stop at a news-stand that neighbored the street I was driving on. I wasn't worried about my appearance; I looked rich as fuck and was greatly dressed. Swerving my car over and parking, I got out of it and made my way to the newsstand, looking at whatever was near. I saw a few things that caught my eye. What kinds of things? Lots of them. Stupid shit like keychains and T-Shirts and knick-knacks like that. I was settling on buying a pack of Tic-Tacs and a Snickers before I realized I left my wallet in my briefcase, which was located in the backseat of my car. Shaking my head, I made my walk back to my car before something caught my eye.
It was a newspaper headline:
Architect's House Burned Down in MYSTERIOUS Fire!
It felt as if the feeling in my body went weak. I flipped through the pages of the Newspaper and quickly located the headline being broadcasted once more, this time, the whole story covering two full pages of the paper.
Up and coming architect, John Cena's, 26 (pictured right) infamous house has been burned down to a crisp in upper Manhattan this following day. Yesterday, at approximately 11:45 P.M. Carol Shannings, Cena's neighbor, called in to 911 and frantically reported the lavish house was encrusted with flames. When the fire and police department arrived to the seen, Cena was no where to be found. After asking numerous neighbors if they knew of Cena's whereabouts or even had his number, they all replied no, claiming the man only used his cellphone for business, but was never secretive about his whereabouts and life. "He's such a nice man," one neighbor spoke. At this point in time, Police and Detectives are working on the case if they was an attempted arson charge, or if the house naturally caught onto flames due to any clumsy electrical outputs or gas leaks...
I gripped the newspaper in my hand before throwing it on the floor and shaking my head, disgusted that people saw this freak of a man as a saint, and even more disgusted that I felt a smudge of sympathy for the fucking bastard.
"Hey! You gotta pay for that if you're just gonna ruin it," The overweight and balding guy behind the newsstand spoke to me when I walked past him. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at him before he obviously got the hint that I wasn't paying for shit and I wasn't in the mood for scoldings or bullshit. He quickly turned his head and allowed me to get back in my Benz, where I sped off and continued my drive. To calm my anger, I turned on the radio and to a station. What station? Any station. As I continued to drive, my iPhone rang and I saw it was Dawn. I sucked my teeth and ignored the call. Before I could continue to make my left turn, my phone rang again and sure enough, it was her. Growing annoyed, I answered it as rudely as possible.
"What?"
"Randy, this is Dawn," She spoke.
"Obviously. I have caller ID," I spat rudely.
Even though we were on the phone, I knew that if I was in person with her, she would've rolled her eyes at my smart remark. "Okay, smartass, I just wanted to ask if you saw the news!"
I grew silent and my stomach tied in knots as I already knew what she was beginning to speak on. "No, what happened?" I played off, playing the dumb role.
"John's house burned down!" She said frantically. "Can you believe that?! It's so sad,"
"Oh yeah," I spoke in a dull monotone voice, faking sadness. "It is sad,"
"I know. I was on my way to see you and I saw him near and we decided to make a visit to your office. We're already here and I-"
"You what?" I asked, my heartbeat quickening in my chest as the knots in my stomach began tying themselves even tighter.
"We're here at your office, Randy. I needed to talk to you anyway and John said he didn't mind tagging along with me. He said he wanted to check up on you and see how you were since my party,"
He said he wanted to check up on you and see how you were since my party.
Yeah, I know exactly what he wanted to check up on.
Those words echoed throughout my head and made my mouth go dry.
"Another thing," Dawn spoke, not even letting me have time to reply. She dropped her voice to a lower level before speaking, "About last night-"
I quickly hung up the phone and threw my phone down. Right now was not the time to listen to Dawn's bullshit excuse about us almost getting caught. I blinked furiously and continued my drive home to shower, change and drink a bottle of Whiskey and pop an Aspirin before I went to my office and saw Dawn and John.
"You and me could write a bad romance..."
A/N:
Alright, so everyone, I'm really sorry that this took so long to publish. It wasn't anything out of writers block or I just lost interest in the story, but my computer was broken and when I went to get it fixed, it broke again, so I had to save up to buy a replacement. I'm only 16, the money took me awhile to get lol. I had to rewrite the whole story over and this chapter and not to mention I had to add everything on my new hard-drive that was on my old one. So, my apologies again. Anyway, not much to say, I hoped everyone really liked this chapter. I know the story so far as been about Dawn and Randy's relationship and his love for her, but PROMISE the third chapter really introduces Cena/Randy and the main aspects of their relationship. Just give it some time, I'm trying to develop this as best as I can. Alright, that's it. Just chill, read the story, give me a review, yada yada yada, I appreciate it. BTW: Thumbs up for the Scarface and Trapped In The Closet inspired scenes. Can you find them?
Come back for the third chapter now, ya hear?