A Girl Named Hope Ch. 01.5byScott_Free©
All characters are 18+
This is just a very short piece written from Hope's point of view. It is just something new that I am trying. Let me know what you think. This is an email from Hope to her sister. If you haven't read chapter 1, check it out first.
I know that I don't call you enough, and I'm sorry. It is hard to talk about all the shit that is going on with mom and dad. They are the reason that I left Michigan, and they are the reason that you and I are apart. I'm sorry to put you in the middle of it, but until you smarten up, and decide to leave, that is where we are. Sorry to start this email out on such a shitty note. I miss you every day, and I wish that you would reconsider moving to Minneapolis. You can't imagine how hard it is to be in a completely new place without your twin sister. Damn, I hate typing long emails on my phone. I guess that maybe it has been worth being without my computer for a few days though.
I met this new guy yesterday, and OMG! He works as a salesman at a local store. Yeah, that part doesn't sound exciting, but trust me; there is more to this guy than just his job. I went in looking for a new laptop, because mine won't do a damn thing, and this really cute sales guy greets me, and starts asking me what I'm looking for. He is a little older. Well, maybe more than a little. I guess he's about thirty; but what the hell? Aren't older guys supposed to be attracted to nineteen year old hotties? Hello?
So this guy is asking me about my laptop, and I can't take my eyes off of his smile. He has these really dark brown eyes, and when he smiles, they sparkle. It is really strange, and a bit hypnotic. So I manage to stammer out the problems that I'm having with my laptop, without looking like too much of a dumb blonde (I hope). So he tells me that it's probably just a virus, and that getting it fixed would be a lot cheaper than getting a new one. I am really strapped for cash, and I can't imagine having to crawl back to dad, and ask him for the money. I'd rather prostitute myself out first. Well, you can already see where this is going. Brooke, I haven't had sex in almost eight months, and the way that he was smiling at me, laptop or no; I was thinking that he would be the next name on my pitifully short list. He's good looking enough, but there is just something about this guy Brooke. I just wanted him. As silly as it sounds, fucking this guy seemed like it was an achievement, like he was Brad fucking Pitt, or something. I know that you are laughing so hard that you are peeing on yourself, but it is true. He just has this magnetic personality.
So, Rob, that's his name, tells me that he could probably fix it cheap. He said that it depended exactly how bad the damage was. So he pulls out a pen, and a slip of paper, and hands it to me; and that's when I see it, his wedding band. I hesitated, because I had been thinking about banging this guy the whole time that he was talking to me. So I was in a predicament; should I give him my number, or not? I still needed my computer fixed; after all, that's why I had gone in there to begin with. So I gave him my number. I figured that he probably wouldn't call, and even if he did, I wouldn't have to sleep with him.
So the next day, I had just got out of the shower, and he called. Not only did he call, but he called exactly when he said that he would call. It was none of that bullshit that guys our age pull. He was all business on the phone, so maybe all the sexual tension had been in my head. I gave him directions to my apartment, and he said that he would be right over. I took stock of what I had at the house. I had twenty dollars in cash, four beers, and half a case of ramen noodles. So basically, if Rob wanted money for fixing it, I was screwed; and not in the way that I wanted.
I figured that maybe if I dressed sexy that maybe he would give me a break on the price. I know that you are laughing again. You are always calling me a skanky little hoe-bag because of the way that I dress, how can I make that even sexier without answering the door naked? I put on this pair of really, really sheer black leggings. I hesitate to even call them that, they are more like opaque tights. I bought them a size too small, and they fit like a second skin. I wore a tiny t-shirt, and oh yeah; I didn't wear any panties. It was as casually sexy as I could manage in twenty minutes. I wanted him to get a good look, but to maybe think that it was an accident. That way he wouldn't get any bright ideas about having sex with me.
Things went fine. I let him in, and he was very casually checking me out. I love that about older guys, they won't drool over you, even if you are as smoking hot as we are. I showed him around my apartment, and even showed him the studio. He seemed impressed by my work. He kept smiling that smile at me. His teeth are so white. God, Brooke, he was being a total gentleman, and I was creaming on myself just by looking at his smile and eyes, and hearing that rich baritone voice that he has.
I'll make a long story short. He was working on my computer, and I just got down in the floor, took out his dick, and started blowing him. Yeah, I felt like the slut that you are always making me out to be. Here this nice, MARRIED man comes over to do me a genuine favor, and I can't help myself. I pulled his cock out, and he was huge! You know that I am proud of my blowjob skills, but Rob stretched my talents to the limit in every way imaginable.
After I was done, he picked me up in his big strong arms. He held me like I was a little kid, and weighed nothing. I know that neither of us are big, and this feat isn't really impressive on it's own; but when he held me in his arms, I felt more safe than I ever have in my life. He laid me down of the couch, and physically ripped those leggings off. OMG! I had a little orgasm right then! Then he went down on me. You know that I haven't been with a ton of guys, but I never actually imagined that a guy licking me could ever feel that good. He was the first guy that I've ever been with that really seemed to understand what I needed.
Remember when I told you that Zack went down on me, and couldn't find my clit? This was the exact opposite of that. I never had to direct him in any way. He just made me feel good, and then it felt better, and then it felt like my head was going to explode. Remember that big debate that we had over that porn movie that we watched where the woman squirted cum out of her pussy? You said that it was possible, and I said that she was just peeing? Well, I was wrong. It happened to me for the very first time with him. How can a guy that I've known for a total of one day make me cum better than I can make myself? It just doesn't seem possible. My orgasm was so powerful that I was literally "weak in the knees."
He offered sex after, but to be honest, I didn't know if I could take a fucking by him after that. My emotions were all a jumble and I kept thinking about his wife. I know that sometimes people just get carried away, and fucking him would make this a much bigger mistake on my part than just oral. I told him to take my computer home, and fix it, and if he still wanted to have sex with me after he thought about it, then we could. He cleaned up a little, and left; telling me that he would call me sometime tomorrow.
I have been able to think of nothing else since. I keep kicking myself for keeping us from fucking. I keep kicking myself for blowing a married guy in the first place. I am so fucking confused. Give me your honest opinion, Brooke. What should I do? Should I deny myself a chance... at what really? Can I even gain anything more than a really good fuck out of this? If that is all, would it really be worth it? The sad part about it is that it has already become more than just about the sex to me. I really like this guy. Should I kick him to the curb just because he found some other girl first? I was probably like eleven at the time. That doesn't seem fair to me. I know that this is all bullshit rationalization. I think that no matter what I do, someone is going to be hurt.
I'm sorry for rambling. It is 3:30am, and I am not thinking clearly. I have picked up my phone to text him a half dozen times, and stopped myself. I know that he will call tomorrow. What should I do? I know that you will check your email as soon as you wake up. I would have called, but there is absolutely no way that I could ever have said all of this to you on the phone, or made you understand the situation. Call me when you get this, I don't care how early that it is. I need someone to talk about this with, and nobody is closer to me than you.
Thanks to Phill, my awesome editor!