A Clean Break

Chapter 1

They stood at the intersection waiting for the light to turn. They'd been fighting for four blocks now.

"You are so stupid!" he yelled at her.

"You may not be so smart yourself."

She said it without emotion, just going through the ritual. Don't fight back; he goes on forever. Fight back too much; he gets explosive, not physically abusive but headache loud. They're relationship had become a game of trying to fight just enough. Though on this occasion she was exhausted and aimed to push him swiftly to leaving; an ambitious goal. He could fight all night. He didn't seem to hate it that way she did. Maybe he enjoyed it.

"What did you say?!" He demanded.

"Smart men tend to attract and couple with smart women. Men who only think they're smart, or would like to, they hook up with the stupid ones, like you, with me."

"Oh, fuck you!" and that was that. She'd gotten what she wanted. He stormed off. Perhaps she was supposed to chase. But she just stood there. She stared into space. She wondered how she'd gotten into this situation yet again.

Sure, she had the stereotypical asshole dad. Her mom had attracted jerks too it would seem. Perhaps it was genetic, or perhaps she learned from her mom how to move, talk, breath in way that said "Jerks, looking for jerks!" She tried so hard to pick men who were charming, and sweet and kind. What subtle signs of latent jerkdom did other girls catch that she was missing?

Lost in these thoughts she took no notice of the car that had stopped at the curb in front of her. "Hey, sweetie." the man inside hollered.

She looked down to see an older man in a town car, leaning forward and looking at her through the front passenger window. She figured he needed directions.

"Yeah?" she asked leaning forward.

"I, uh, I'd like a date?"

She was a bit surprised at his tactics. She'd been picked up on before, but he sounded as if he was collecting a debt, as if she was somehow obligated to give him the date he was requesting. It wasn't until she looked over her shoulder to see who else might be witnessing this, maybe to see some prankster with a camera, that she noticed the other woman, also standing on this corner. He thought she was a prostitute! She opened his passenger door and she had a seat.

Sitting there, staring out the window, she figured she'd done her part and now he'd do his. He'd take here somewhere, fuck her and hand her money. He seemed to be waiting as well. She looked at him and he looked back. She figured she should smile. She didn't.

"Well, how much?" he asked.

How much? She had no idea how much. How much did Julia Roberts get in that movie? She couldn't remember. "I'm no Julia Roberts." she though to herself. Of course the heavy set, balding man sitting across from her in the short sleeve dress shirt and ugly tie was certainly no Richard Gere.

"A thousand bucks... please." she answered, finally.

"A Thousand Bucks! What the hell are you going to do me that's going to be worth a thousand bucks? You got a couple of friends joining us? at the Ritz?"

"Well what do you normally pay? I'm new at this."

"Look, how about just a hand job? I'll give you twenty bucks."

Twenty dollars for a hand job sounded considerably less glamorous but maybe that was a good thing. It would get the job done. "Fine." she answered and he pulled the car away from the curb. He did not drive to a hotel or even a motel, but instead parked behind a strip mall that was closed for the night. Behind the dry cleaner he pulled out his limp dick.

She was amazed that he could hire a stranger, negotiate having this done and not have an erection. She laid her hand on his cock and made a kneading motion. Nothing happened. She wrapped her hand around and tugged a bit, pet the head with her thumb, and now she heard some slight moans but he remained flaccid. She kept at it.

"Look." He interrupted. "You gotta be sexy. You gotta talk dirty and let me see a little skin, or at least open your mouth for me."

For twenty bucks? She'd been to strip clubs with Charles. She loved watching the woman there "be sexy". They made a lot more than twenty bucks. Now she wanted this done.

"I feel sexy. I feel like I'd love to have you fuck me." He seemed unimpressed so she added "in the ass." she said it in the same bland voice she used to fight with Charles.

"Okay look, this is ridiculous. I'm sorry." He put his cock back in his pants and he zipped up his fly. I'll drive you back to the corner. And now, as surprising to her as to him, she began to cry, no to bawl.

"Oh, honey, it's okay. I just, I require a lot. I've been doing this awhile sweetie. Most guys I'm sure will come before they even get parked, honey. Look, if you need the money I'll give you the twenty bucks."

"I don't need the fucking money, I need you to fuck me. I need you to make the asshole not want me since I can't seem to leave him as long as he pretends I haven't whenever I try. I need to go home and throw a good amount of money in his face and I need to say 'Here. Enjoy it. I fucked a stranger for it.' And I can't even get twenty dollars for a hand job god dammit! And now I'm crying and confessing my deepest secrets to a fucking John, who can't even get a hard on, because I have no fucking friends anymore, because the asshole was so sure I was fucking all of them."

He didn't take offense. He started driving, stopping when he reached an all night coffee shop. They sat and drank coffee and talked about television. He loved Survivor. She enjoyed VHI shows about rock star excess. He actually listened to her, and she told him every minute detail of Ozzy Osborne's life and career from Sabbath to his first solo albums to his becoming a reality show. She almost cried talking of Sharon's love for the Oz and of what a great father the dark lord really was. She talked for two hours straight.

She'd heard of the hooker with a heart of gold and now, she though to herself, she'd met the John with the heart of gold. Of course, she imagined, he'd drop her off and go get his cock yanked by someone more damaged than she, but better at hiding it; someone who would open their mouth for him, so he could fantasize about what he really wanted instead of paying ten bucks extra to actually get it. The heart was a bit tarnished, but he'd treated he well.

Charles would not know that she'd not come right home. He didn't return until early the next morning.

*

Chapter 2

She had on a ridiculously short black skirt with pinstripes. She wore stockings, nude, with a black seam running down the back. A sleeveless cotton blouse hugged her breast which were lifted and squeezed together by a black push up bra. Her heels, the tallest she could find on short notice had her ass sticking out, and her strut sexy as she walked back and forth on her corner.

With her hair slicked back, and her make up heavy but expertly applied she looked like a make believe prostitute amongst the real working girls.

Said working girls asked her who her man was, and she told them she was in the market for one. They warned her that she shouldn't be out without a man "watching out for her." She watched the cars go by, getting lots of slow down and stare responses. She wondered what she'd do if someone stopped and she guessed she'd get in their car.

Charles pulled up to the curb, other than being fifteen minutes late, exactly as they planned. It hadn't been hard convincing him to participate in some role playing. Not when she described the outfit. He balked when she explained how authentic it had to be. He would pick her up on the corner, he'd have real cash, he'd take her to a motel. He agreed when she mentioned that he'd tell her just what he wanted and there was nothing that couldn't be bought with enough cash.

"Hey baby, you lookin' for a date?" the woman in the yellow dress asked arriving at Charles car first. She hoped he'd say yes, but he looked past the yellow dress to her. Her competition stepped aside, sparing no attitude.

"Hi honey. You lookin' for a good time?" she asked him.

"Oh, yes I am. How much?" Charles was playing his role perfectly.

"Why don't we discuss that somewhere else." she suggested sliding into Charles's mom's Volvo. "Honey, I don't do Volvos. We'll need a room. And if you're worried about price I should get out now."

"No, no, no. I'm not worried. I can handle it." She turned toward him, and showed herself off with arched back and pouty lips, bedroom eyes and a hand on his thigh as he made his way to a motel. He'd been too authentic. He pulled into a flea bag called the Ocean Side. The nearest ocean was a good six hours away.

Charles pulled out the motel key, and she took it from him. She led way, opening the door, and walking through it with no regard for whether or not he was joining her. He followed and after getting the door locked he turned and made to pounce.

"Whoa! We need to settle up the money first. What can I do for you baby. You want me to suck your cock for starters? Or maybe a strip tease first? And then I'll bend over for you and let you fuck me baby. You want that?"

"Yes I do. I most certainly do." Charlie was chomping at the bit. She could see his cock pressing against his slacks. If he didn't have much else, he did have a great cock. Size wasn't the only thing that mattered, hell she'd gotten off plenty of times with no cock present, but a large cock was a wonderful thing.

"I'll suck your cock for two hundred bucks, condom on. You can fuck me for three hundred more, and if you want to slide it into my tight little ass add another two hundred to that."

"Well come on now, let's negotiate." He played, figuring the money was just part of the fantasy. After all it came from their shared account, which was in his name. It would go back there tomorrow, or it would be spent on the groceries and bills.

She made for the door. "Goodnight."

"No, no, no, baby, I'm just kidding. Here, look, here's the money. Here's a hundred extra to pretend that you like it. I'll add another hundred if you actually do.

She put the money in her purse. She put the purse by the door. She turned and as Charles made to wrap his arms around her, his mouth making its way to hers, she grabbed his wrists. Moving Charles backwards, she pinned his wrists against the wall. She squirmed in her outfit, showing off her hips, her tits, her shoulders, her cock sucking red lips.

Charles didn't fight as his hands were placed behind his head. She pushed her body against him and slid to her knees, letting her breast press against his chest, his belly, his hips. His cock was fully hard and she bit it gently through his pants. She breathed through the fabric warming him. He cooed as she did so and his hips pushed forward. Amazingly, he kept his hands where she'd put them. She opened his fly and she took out his cock.

"No. You gotta be kidding." he whined as she rolled the purple condom onto his cock. "We don't use condoms."

"Maybe you don't, Sir, but I do, no matter how much you're paying. I don't do bareback." Grabbing his balls and putting her mouth inches from his cock had him in no mood for fighting.

She sucked his cock, and was surprised herself how well she did so through the latex. She was glad that it did not taste good. She liked tasting Charles' bare cock, a taste she was well familiar with. She was not here tonight to enjoy herself.

Charles was having the time of his life. She licked his shaft, bit him gently, and kept her head tilted up so he could see her tongue, her teeth, her lips. She knew that watching was half the fun and she gave him a show. She pressed his cock against her cheek as she kissed and flicked her tongue over his taut balls.

She had him on the edge of coming in minutes. Grabbing his cock and squeezing she stood to her feet. She looked him in the eye, her height matching his with the assistance of her high heels.

"You want to fuck me now, baby?" she asked, over enunciating every word, showing off her lips and her teeth; the same lips that had just been wrapped around his cock, the same teeth that had just nibbled at its head. She brought her tongue into the act teasing it across her top lip. No room or need for subtlety, she acted every bit the whore. What caught her off guard was how wet she was. She was enjoying the fantasy, perhaps as much as Charles.

Turning suddenly, she walked through the small room as one would walk a catwalk. She grabbed a chair and whipped it around. Lifting her skirt, she pushed her panties down over her ass, slowly, revealing her round cheeks and then her trimmed plum pussy. She left her panties at mid thigh, bent over the back of the chair and gripped the seat. She looked over her shoulder at Charles. "Fuck me baby. Fuck me hard."

Charles would oblige. He stepped up behind her. He noticed the lube she'd placed nearby on the desk and he stroked himself with it several times before sliding into her. Charles was a good lover. He usually fucked her slowly and gently to start. Now, he slid his cock all the way in, and he fucked her hard as requested. She tightened her grip on the chair seat and found that here, in this setting, nothing could be hotter than having his cock slammed into her again and again, filling her up, his balls slapping against her clit.

She kept her legs straight, her back arched and she whipped her head about. It was an act, but it was not a difficult one to pull off. She gasped, a few fake gasps, followed by a few sincere ones. His hand held tight to her hips as he continued to slide his cock in and out of her furiously. The more she overacted for him the more she believed her act. She was screaming "Fuck me baby. Oh yeah, fuck me hard. Don't stop." She was going to come. She could feel that he was too.

"Baby, you want to fuck my ass. You want to slide that big cock into my ass?" She asked him. She knew that if she invited him, he would want to do so. Just asking was hot and she was sure that for Charles or any man being asked would be twice as hot.

"Oh yeah!" He practically shouted between breaths.

She pushed him backwards and shivered as his cock slid out of her. She walked to the bed and took her position on it, on her hands and knees. Not her favorite position for anal sex, but definitely his. He got behind her, and he was gentle now, gentle enough.

Charles did something he'd never done before. He licked her asshole. He ran his tongue in circles, pressing lightly at first and then pushing his tongue just inside her ass. He bit at her ass cheeks and he kissed her now positively tingling hole as she squirmed.

He applied a generous amount of lube to himself and to her. He ran his finger around her asshole, pushing, until she opened and his finger slid inside. He fingered her ass slowly, feeling her relax into it. He pressed his cock to her asshole, firmly but patiently. She pushed back against him and felt his cock enter her ass. It hurt, a little, and she bit her lip. She pushed back more, letting him know it was okay to continue. He grabbed her hips and he inched his way in. He was halfway in when he slid slowly back out. She felt her self opening up more and more. He slid back in a little further now. He slid out again and with each thrust in he entered her deeper. By the time he slid his cock all the way in, she was having a long rolling orgasm.

He could see her coming; feel the grip of her ass around his cock tightening. He was pressed against her ass cheeks with his cock all the way inside her.

She wanted him to come. "Come on baby. Fuck my ass. Come in my ass baby. My tight asshole's wrapped around your cock baby. Give me it." He came, harder than she'd ever felt him cum. He came loudly, which was unusual for Charles. She continued coming herself, pushed on by his orgasm.

Charles lay on top of her for about thirty long silent seconds before rolling over onto his back. "Damn, baby, that was amazing."

She basked in the glow of a wonderful orgasm and felt the aftershocks. Then she remembered why she was here, who she was tonight. She pulled her panties from where they were resting around her ankles and she lowered her skirt.

"Glad you enjoyed it baby." and she grabbed her purse on her way out the door.

*

Chapter 3

The two women sipped their drinks, one beer, one pear cider, and watched the sidewalk traffic.

"Mom, are you ogling that man on the skateboard?" she asked.

"He has his shirt off, he's inviting ogling." her mother answered coolly, taking another sip from the pint glass.

$700 wasn't enough for a weekend on the Riviera, but it was certainly enough to treat her and her mother to day of pampering; breakfast complete with mimosas, a trip to the spa for steam and massage, a nice cafe lunch followed by an afternoon sipping drinks and people watching. Later that night they'd go to a movie and eat too much overpriced, over buttered popcorn.

She'd been staying with her mom for the last two weeks and if felt nice to treat her to such a luxurious day. Mom was always there for her, without judgment providing her a place to stay during the off periods of several on again off again relationships. And there was no judgment when she went back to the relationship that had sent her to once again sleep in her childhood bedroom.

Usually Charles would decide he was ready to have her back and so he'd start visiting, visits that would grow in frequency and length until she was practically living with him again, but on her mother's dime. She'd return home. Never did Charles offer an apology or even a suggestion that they talk, work things out. She tolerated it, and her mother knew no better, and so tolerated it along with her.

This time Charles had not come around. She hung onto the money, not sure what she'd do if he showed up, but afraid to spend it. She'd been right in her original thoughts of course. He wasn't showing up.

She visited with old friends again. She had great, wonderfully casual sex with an old lover. And quicker than she expected she stopped looking over her shoulder. She started enjoying her days without worrying about how she'd answer when he asked how her day went. She didn't fully understand her own methods but it was clear she'd done it. She'd made a clean break.