"It just happens, sometimes," she said. She shrugged casually. "You know, sometimes a guy gets rough, or he doesn't want to pay . . . least I've never gotten cut, or shot. I Know this one girl, after she did a guy and his friend, they stabbed her in the stomach and took her money. She was in the hospital for, like, a week."
"I'd hate for something like that to happen to you," I said earnestly.
She took a deep breath, let it out while watching the TV. She sipped her beer. "You're nice to me, Devon," she said, then gave me a little smile. "That's why I came back. You don't make me feel . . . you know."
I nodded. "Hey, a beautiful young woman wants to spend time with an old guy like me? I'm not gonna say no."
Gabi laughed softly. "You're not old," she said. "What are you, like, twenty-eight?"
I pursed my lips. "More like thirty-five."
She reared back, giving me an 'I don't believe you' look.
I just laughed. "I'm serious. Wanna see my license?"
Gabi laughed. "Well, for an old guy, you look pretty good."
I lit a cigarette. "Clean living," I joked.
Gabi watched me a moment, her eyes wandering over my body. She drained her beer, set the empty can on the table. "Can I have another one?"
"What, you wanna get drunk?" I asked.
"Maybe a little, if that's okay. You doing anything tomorrow?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
She curled up against me, suddenly affectionate, and lowered her head to plant an affectionate kiss on my cock. "Good," she said, easing up. "I wanna see how many times an old guy like you can get it up."
I watched her with interested and aroused eyes as Gabi swayed her tight little butt to my refrigerator and helped herself to my last beer. She gave me a wicked smile as she came back. She straddled my lap, lightly rubbing her pussy against my slowly-growing erection.
"I got an idea," she said. "Why don't we grab a couple of six-packs and order a pizza, then . . . give each other lots and lots of head."
I ran my hands up and down her back, watching her as she popped open the beer and drank. "Just head?" I asked.
"Just head. Is that okay? I like doing it."
I smiled. How could I possibly refuse?
I awoke the following morning with a pair of serious hangovers. One was from the beer, the other from the sex. Gabi lay next to me, deep in never-never land. Her mouth and chin were flaky with dried semen. More was on her neck and breasts. The pungent aroma of pussy lingered in my mouth.
I was conscious of the fact that, while Gabi seemed to enjoy our antics, she had used sex as a diversion to keep me from asking too much about her. Whenever I would try to pry some information out of her about her life, where she had been, how she got the bruise, or whatever, she would reach for my dick and straddle my lap, and that would be it. She couldn't very well answer my questions when her mouth was full, after all.
I had finally given up, and figured Kandath's advice about not getting to close was on the money. Gabi wanted the security of being with someone she felt she could trust, and rewarded that feeling in the sweetest way possible. I felt a strange sense of pride. After all, she charged other men for her services. If she charged me for every orgasm she had thus far coaxed from me, I would be out at least three hundred dollars.
Even though it was Saturday, I was still up at 6:58, and there wasn't a damn thing I could to go back to sleep. I got up, started some coffee, stumbled to the bathroom. Gabi was still in dreamland, muttering in her sleep when I came back after showering and brushing my teeth. She didn't wake up until I had drunk a pot of coffee and the eleven a.m. news came on.
I turned away from the TV, looking at Gabi as she sat up, touching her face. She absently scratched away flakes of cum from her chin. Her eeys were wide, round, still a little sleepy.
"Good morning," I said.
She smiled, crawled from the futon and over the back of the love seat, curling up in my lap. She nuzzled her nose against my chest, wrapped her arms around my neck. Her affection was a little surprising.
"Mmm, you smell good, baby," she said. She kissed my chest.
I chuckled. "You don't."
She lifted her head, her face blank. Then she suddenly laughed. "I'll be right back," she said, and got up. She grabbed her little denim bag and headed into the shower, giving me a sexy look as she did so.
I suddenly wondered if I had a girlfriend. And if so, would that be the smartest move? This girl was half my age. What could we have in common? And did I want a prostitute for a girlfriend?
Oh, snap out of it, Dev. Don't flatter yourself.
Still, all day long, Gabi and I were like a couple. We went to lunch, saw a movie, did some window shopping at the mall. Gabi held my hand the whole time, gave me little kisses now and then, and occasionally groped my crotch. She modeled some lingerie for me at Victoria's Secret, and I bought her a pair of see-through panties and a matching teddy after she promised she would wear them for me that night.
And she did. After turning down the lights once we got back to my place, she danced for me, clad in her new lingerie, and rubbed herself all over me. After slowly peeling off my clothes, she urged me to masturbate while she fingered herself on my coffee table. And when I was ready to cum, she opened her mouth wide and gave me the extra thrill of watching her firm little tongue become slathered with semen. She swallowed it all with a smile and sucked my cock until I was soft.
We sixty-nined in bed until we were both satisfied, then fell asleep like that, her little body rest atop mine, her mouth gently sucking me as she drifted off.
It seemed pretty obvious to me that Gabi was there to stay. I started thinking about moving us into a large apartment.
In the shower the following morning, I made plans for the day. Head out to the zoo or the park, I figured, make a day of it. Maybe Gabi would be into a little outdoor sex. The zoo had lots of little hidden benches and nooks we could sneak into.
But when I came out of the bathroom, intending to surprise Gabi by licking her awake, I found that she had left. Her clothes, her new lingerie, her bag, it was all gone. I felt a little anxiety, checked my pants for my wallet. But it was there, as well as all my money.
Okay, maybe she had to go out for a while, I thought.
I stayed in, getting a little work done on my thesis, but I was having a hard time concentrating. I could still taste her, smell her, hear the echoes of her sighs and moans. Everything in my little apartment reminded me of her.
By six o'clock, I began to realize she was not coming back. By ten, I started worrying. Finally, around midnight, I got in my car and started driving.
I drove up and down Central, looking for Gabi. A few times, I thought I saw her, but in the shadows, one slender body looked like another. Girls looked me over, sometimes with interest, other times with resignation and disdain. Any one of them would have gotten in my car, I knew. But none of them were Gabi.
I thought about stopping some of the girls to see if they knew her, of where she could be found. But that might have caused some problems, or roused the interest of the police.
By two in the morning, I gave up and headed back home.
I didn't get any sleep.
"Perhaps she got a better offer," suggested Kandath after I gave him a recount of the weekend. We were in his office, the door closed. I didn't want anyone to know I was infatuated with a teenaged prostitute.
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
Kandath scratched his chin. "A girl with few prospects like that, she was obviously searching for someone to take her in."
"But that's what I did," I said, frowning. "I took her in."
"Well, perhaps you did, and perhaps you did not. And perhaps she found someone with more money who did the same."
I frowned. Leave it to Kandath to burst my bubble. Why did I even talk to that jerk about it, anyway?
Over the following weeks, as the end of the spring semester loomed closer, I gradually put Gabi out of my mind. I could never forget the incredible sex, her exuberance, her eagerness, but I told myself I would just have to be happy with the memories. Gabi wasn't coming back. Period.
I was startled by the sound of her voice as I sat at an outdoor table before a little bistro on the edge of the campus. I was doing some grading, musing to myself how some of these stupid kids ever got accepted into college in the first place.
The last thing I expected was to see Gabi again. Yet there she was, in a loose yellow skirt and a white tank top, and those same little white sneakers. She had cleaned them up a little.
For a long moment, I just stared at her. I wasn't sure if I should be mad at her for her abrupt departure, or relieved to see her again. Nor was I sure if I should be aroused or not.
"Can we talk?" she asked at last, looking nervous.
I took a breath. "Sure."
Gabi looked around, noting all the people at other tables, those passing by on the street. I noticed as well, especially the way some of the guys around us were ogling Gabi's tight little body. I wondered if any of them knew her the same way I did.
"Um . . . can we go somewhere else?" she asked timidly.
I thought a moment, then nodded. "Sure. But not my place."
She blinked, cast her eyes down. She seemed a little hurt that I did not want to take her home. But she nodded nonetheless. "Okay."
Gabi was silent throughout the entire drive. She barely even looked at me, except to give me a strange, reluctant smile now and then as I drove. I stopped for a couple of sodas and a six-pack, bought a pack of cigarettes, then drove to a little spot just outside the city, on a bluff overlooking the flat plains of the High Desert. It was a breezy, warm day.
Gabi and I found a couple of large rocks to sit on, and cracked open the beer. I lit her cigarette, then lit my own. I was patient as I waited for her to begin.
"You know, that first night I met you, I felt like I could tell you anything," she said, breaking the silence.
I looked to her, saw the way the late afternoon sun glowed on her face. The bruise was pretty much gone, with just a tiny welt on her cheekbone remaining. "Why didn't you?"
She shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I didn't think . . . I mean, you picked me up, remember? You wanted to get laid, not hear my sob story."
"Maybe I wanted both."
She turned her face toward me. "Yeah, I get that about you. I saw all those books you got. Are you a teacher, I mean, a professor?"
I nodded. "I'm working on my PhD, but I teach a couple classes."
She nodded. "Cool."
"What's going on, Gabi?"
She shuddered with a deep breath. "I grew up on that street," she said. "I've almost never left Central, never been out of the city. My whole fucking life has been that street. It's funny. You go to where I live, and you get gangs and drugs and hookers and skanks . . . but you go right down the street and there's the college, and all the clean people, and –"
I chuckled. "I wouldn't say they're all clean."
Gabi managed a smile. "I always liked hanging around there. I'd talk to some of the students, learn some things. This one guy, he met me every day after his last class and we'd sit on the grass, just talking. 'Course, we didn't just talk. Had to pay for my lessons, you know."
I smiled, knowing what she meant.
"I dropped out of high school in tenth grade," she said. "My mom . . . she was pretty sick, and we owed a lot of back rent. She couldn't work that much, and it was just me and her. So, soon as I could, I started working. It wasn't much, but . . . at least we had a place to live. I don't hate her 'cause she got sick, but . . . sometimes I just wish she could have waited until I graduated."
"You can get a GED," I said. "I, uh . . . I could help you study for it."
Gabi smiled warmly, her eyes betraying emotion. "Thanks," she whispered. She looked down, regarding her beer, then took a healthy swig. "I wish it was that simple."
"Why isn't it?" I asked.
Gabi looked to me, saying nothing, even though her eyes told me she really wanted to come out with it . . . whatever it was.
I scooted a little closer, and touched her shoulder. "Gabi, look. If you want me to help you, I will. But you have to let me in. Tell me what's going on. It might not be as bad as you think it is."
Her nostrils flared, and her eyes watered. She struggled to hold back the tears. "My . . . mom . . ." her voice cracked, her features contorted. "She, um . . . she passed away when I was . . . when I was with you."
My heart sank. Guilt flooded through me. Gabi broke down, started sobbing uncontrollably. I pulled her against me, held her as she cried for many long moments. It was all, finally, starting to make sense.
She stopped crying, rather abruptly, and pulled up her shirt to wipe her face. Despite the circumstances of the moment, I found it strange erotic that Gabi so casually exposed her breasts. Not that there was anyone around but me to see her.
"I knew it was coming. We both did. Still . . . it's just so—"
"'We?'" I asked.
Her eyes bore into mine. "Rico," she said. "My . . . step-father," she added with more than a little disdain in her voice.
I took a chance and followed my intuition. "He's the one who hit you."
Self-consciously, Gabi touched her cheek. She didn't have to say anything to confirm the truth. The look on her face was enough.
"He said we weren't paying the money back fast enough," she said. "So, I . . . he told me if I worked for him, I could pay it off quicker, and . . . he'd let me go. Except . . . now it's all paid off and he won't let me go."
"Why don't you just leave? You can come stay with me."
Gabi smiled sweetly, touched my face. "You're sweet, Devon, but . . . I really want to be alone sometimes. I need my own place, where no one knows me."
I nodded. "I can help you with that. I know a lot of students. Many of them are looking for room mates, especially now—"
"I can get a place," she said, interrupting me. "That's not the problem. I just need the money, and since Rico takes half of what I bring home—"
Gabi sighed. "Devon, I didn't come for your money."
She huffed. "It's not even about that. Even if I get away from Rico, he still has Letty."
I frowned. "Who's Letty?"
"My sister," she said. "She was living with her dad – we don't have the same fathers – but Rico found her anyway. He got Freddie – Letty's dad, he's a real asshole – to give her to him. He wants her to work for him, too, like I am. So it's not just about me."
I gave Gabi a serious look. "What would it take to get you and Letty away from Rico?" I asked.
Gabi winced. "Devon, I didn't want to bring you any trouble. Don't get involved, okay? I just wanted to talk, and get it out . . . I just wanted a friend, that's all."
I pulled her close, kissed her temple. "I am your friend, Gabi," I said. "And I am going to help you, one way or the other. So why not just tell me what it will take, and we'll see what happens."
Gabi cried a little bit, tears brought out by grief for her departed mother, her trapped sister, her gratitude for me. Eventually, I got it all out of her. Rico was a slum lord, who lived in a house not far off of Central, and that was where he kept Letty, wearing her down until she agreed to prostitute for him. Apparently, Rico was a pretty active pimp. Gabi told me he had six other girls working for him.
The basics were this: Gabi needed five hundred bucks to pay her deposit on an apartment in a community where she knew she would be accepted, a place across town and out of Rico's sphere of influence. And she needed to get Letty away from Rico.
"What's the apartment complex?" I asked her.
"What?" asked Gabi as I stood and headed back to my Impala. "Why?"
"Just tell me," I said, and reached into the glove compartment. I grabbed my checkbook.
"Um . . . it's called Sierra Ridge," she said.
I nodded, scribbled on a check, handed it to Gabi. She took it, staring wide-eyed at what she held. "Devon?" she asked, wonderingly.
I tore out a slip of blank paper from the back of my checkbook, gave it to Gabi along with the pen. "Now, I need Rico's address."
"Do it," I said, using my best authoritative voice.
Gabi clammed up, and wrote on the slip of paper. I smiled upon her once she gave it back to me.
"It's going to be all right," I said, hoping I could back up my own words.
Gabi looked grateful, emotional. "Devon . . . you didn't have to do this."
I sat back down, took her hand. "I wanted to," I said. "Just let me take you out once this is all over."
Gabi laughed softly, a short, nervous sound. "You can take me out right now," she said, and touched my face. "Or, better yet . . . take me home."
I barely remember the drive back into town. Maybe Gabi and I talked, maybe we didn't. I was conscious of little more than my desire to be with Gabi again, and I was pretty sure she felt the same way.
Once inside my apartment, our clothes seemed to vanish on their own, melting away like a cotton T-shirt in a downpour. I lay Gabi on the futon, kissed and licked along her narrow torso. She sighed, whimpered, moaned passionately as I sucked her warm, sweet flesh, as I gently bit and caressed her nipples with my lips and tongue.
"Oh, Devon . . . Devon," she moaned.
I made my way down her lithe body, placing little kisses here and there. The aroma of her sex was intoxicating as my lips traveled southward. I noticed she had trimmed a little more, sculpting her brunette pubes to a rectangle above her pussy.
Gabi bucked and moaned deeply as I pressed my mouth to her pussy, tasting her once more. God, how I had missed her flavor! No woman could ever taste as sweet as Gabi, I realized. Not to me, anyway.
Gabi rolled her hips back, pulling her knees to her chest and spreading her thighs wide. She lifted her head, staring down into my eyes as I ate her out. Emboldened, I licked from her clit to her puckered little asshole, and Gabi gasped, watching me as I rimmed her. I wish I could have captured the incredible expressions on her face as she came. Never had I seen a sight more beautiful.
I drank all her fluid down, kept licking her until Gabi pulled on my head. "Come up here, baby," she whispered.
I crawled up over her, and Gabi wrapped her arms and legs around me, eagerly meeting my lips, kissing me deeply. My hard cock pressed against her slipepry folds, the head just barely pushing inside her.
"Make love to me, Devon," she whispered between heated kisses. "Please. I want you inside me."
I grunted, almost giving in, but pulled back. "I've got some condoms in my—"
"No," she said quickly. "Please. I'm clean, baby, swear to God. And I trust you. I want it like this. Please, baby."
I moaned. My resolve was gone. I wanted her, too, more than she knew. Staring down into Gabi's beautiful young face, I pushed my cock inside her, wincing at the tight fit. She may have been wet enough to soak all the way through the mattress, but she was still damn tight.
"Uhn! Oh! Ah!" Gabi grunted, her face contorted. She bit her lip, took several deep breaths, held the last one. I worked back and forth, her juices lubricating my invading cock, then pushed deeper . . deeper . . . I felt something pop.
"Ahhh!" cried Gabi, and she bucked, clutching my back, her legs quaking as they gripped my waist tightly. I groaned as I was buried inside the girl.
"Oh, God! Oh, God, stop! Just stop!"
I looked down on Gabi, saw the pain on her face even as I felt the maddening spasms of her tight young tunnel around my shaft. Jesus, was she hot! And so incredibly tight!