Angel's Call

Thanks a lot to Techsan who edited the story pretty quickly and turned it into a better one.

"Even a teacher has the right to be drunk," thought Chris as he emptied the last drops of the fine red wine into his glass. The acid taste of the fermented grape made him grimace and he shook his head slightly. Contrary to what he told his students at school about drinking much, that was his second bottle that night and he was somewhat drunk which wasn't quite what he wanted at the first place. He wanted to be so drunk that he could forget everything. Every single thing, including who he was and who Lisa was,andof course who that bastard friend of his, George, was.

As he ordered the third bottle he was thinking why the spirits wouldn't do its job and make him forget. The waiter eyed him suspiciously.

"Would you like something more to eat, sir? This brand is really good with our house specialty of fried cheese."

The waiter was trying to attract the attention of this overdrinking customer from wine to food, hopefully slow him down, and avoid some ugly scenes that would come afterwards. He had seen that the man was drinking too much on an almost empty stomach.

"No."

"You'll find it is delicious."

"I said no. Thanks," Chris replied again feeling a little more annoyed.

The waiter tried again. He was sounding more polite than he ever was that night. "But I insist, sir, at least give it a try. Consider it a present from the chef." The price of the cheese was much less than the bad PR this man would cause if he got too drunk. He was even thinking of calling the boss and having Chris kicked out politely if he refused to eat.

"Fine. Bring it along with the bottle." Chris gave in and fell back into his thoughts.

He had had an almost perfect life, a job as a teacher in Saint Nicholas High School which he loved and which paid enough, a gorgeous fiancee, a house he shared with his almost best friend whom he knew from college. He was even saving for his wedding which was being planned for the next fall and paying mortgage for a house Lisa and he were supposed to live in after the wedding. The house was rented out for now which helped his finances some, too. He had a regular routine of going to gym and running in the park whenever the weather permitted. No health problems other than the rare flu. He was totally at peace with himself and sure of his life until tonight...

The little waves in the clear wine twisted and turned along with the dim lights of the restaurant and there he saw the reflection of his fiancee and his friend on his bed. That was how he had found them earlier that day. His last hour at school was cancelled due to a theater practice and he was home early with a bunch of red roses. Lisa loved roses. He didn't expect George to be home at that hour because he had a boss who thought his employees were his slaves and usually kept them working till late. Lisa shouldn't have been there as earlier that day; she had said on the phone that she wouldn't be able to drop by early because of an emergency about one of her friends. He was planning to give the roses to her when she came and they would head out to the restaurant he was sitting in at the moment.

So when he opened his bedroom door and saw George with Lisa under him on his own bed, he was stunned speechless and paralysed for some time.

He pinched himself. Many thoughts passed through his mind in full speed. "This can't be happening. I must have fallen asleep and am having a nightmare. Maybe he forced her to do it. No, this can't be." But her fingernails were running tracks along his back as he pushed his cock in and pulled out of Lisa's dripping pussy, both oblivious to his presence and obviously enjoying the act until he shut the door when he finally came to his senses. The porcelain vase in which he had put the roses crashed on the wall a few seconds later. The crashing sound equalled the crashing sound of his world.

Chris was at a loss of expressing his feelings. Hell, he didn't even know what he felt anymore, but he noticed the shameless look in Lisa's eyes as the couple explained the situation a couple of minutes later. He found it truly hard to believe what was going on. While that witch, his supposed-to-be fiancee, was handling two men at once, she had continued supporting Chris about getting married. She was the perfect fiancee while she was with Chris and perfect bitch while she was with George. Chris's perfect world, on the other hand, had crashed down with incredible speed in a few minutes.

His supposedly best friend didn't even say 'sorry' as they sat down on the sofa in the living room and talked about the three-way relationship. After one point, he could hear their voices but couldn't make out what they were saying anymore. He had stood up abruptly as if something bit him. Finding it impossible to listen anymore, he had run out of the apartment.

Thinking over it again, he realized that the last drop of water in the glass was Lisa admitting that she had had an abortion. It wasn't an admittance actually, just a mere referral about the time her relationship with George started. When he asked, she said she was sure it was Chris's baby but she had never told him, had never given him a chance to express his feelings, never given him a choice. Chris loved children very much, which was why he was a teacher. He loved them a lot and he wanted to help them through their struggle to get ready for life.

Lisa's denial of a child made him furious, maybe even more than her betrayal although that was also something he wouldn't ever be able to forgive. How she could get in the same bed and have sex with his friend was something he couldn't make sense of. Not once, not twice, an ongoing relationship right in front of his eyes, or rather right behind his back. He had walked around the town aimlessly for a while, then got in his car and drove to the restaurant to drink it over. He had a reservation there anyway.

It was a cosy restaurant with live music. Some forgotten pianist was crying his heart out on the piano. The interior was painted with orange to red and the tablecloths and furniture covers were the shades of the same colors. As it was a weekday evening, there weren't many customers. Looking around, he saw a few couples, a group of six all in suits possibly out for business and a foursome which seemed to be close friends dining and having light conversation.

It was a fine restaurant with an elegant atmosphere where the only single customer was Chris himself. Everybody else seemed to be having some degree of fun. Even the business group was toasting and laughing over possibly a good contract. He should have gone to a dark, smoke clouded bar with meaningless music to dull the senses, he reasoned, and gave up the attempt to lose himself. He took a last bite off the cheese, paid the bill and stood up. His mobile phone under the handkerchief he'd placed on the table was forgotten.

A trace of worry passed through his wine fogged brain as he stepped out of the restaurant into the cool air outside. Where would he go now? Certainly not back to the apartment he shared with George. There was a great possibility that Lisa would still be there. Well, at least until she found a new lover and moved on. Now that he had seen what she was capable of, he looked at their relationship from a different point of view.

He tried to imagine what the couple were doing right now. Were they amusing themselves on how he made a fool of himself by believing in romance and the right woman was Lisa? Were they also drinking but for a totally different goal? Were they asleep? Were they making love? Was George kissing her smooth, silky body while he drew circles on her clit with his fingers? Was Lisa moaning like she did when she was with Chris? Was George a better lover?

Chris had a vision of him finger fucking Lisa to a mind blowing orgasm of which the neighbors were informed by her screaming and afterwards Lisa giving head to the cock that waited for attention, stroking the engorged head slowly at first then taking it into her skilled mouth, licking and sucking and, well, she could do that very well and push anybody over the sweet edge in a considerably short time.

Oh, enough! He mentally kicked the thoughts aside, shook his head and concentrated on accomodations for the night again. He couldn't go to his parents' house at this hour. They were away on an extended holiday wandering around Europe, discovering its old and beautiful cities and the housekeeper wouldn't be there till the morning. The most logical thing seemed to sleep overnight in a hotel and start looking for a new apartment during the weekend. George and Lisa could go to hell in the old apartment; he wasn't going back there again.

"Now, where is the closest hotel?" he asked himself. God, it was hard to put a hold on his thoughts and arrange them after so much wine.

"All right, there is the Stardust Hotel right across the bridge," he answered his own question.

He started to walk slowly in the general direction of the river which separated the two parts of the city. It was late and there weren't many people left on the streets. A distant siren could be heard in the background but he couldn't figure out whether it was the police or the ambulance. The weather was chilly with some smell of rain. It must have rained while he was drinking. When he put his cold hands in the pockets of his coat to warm them, he discovered the keys of his car and remembered that he left the SUV back at the parking lot of the restaurant.

"Can I drive to the hotel this drunk? Yes. Should I? No. Will I? Yes."

It wasn't the time to be sensible. While walking back to the car, he made several funny sobriety experiments, tried to walk in a straight line, tried to touch the tip of his nose with his index fingers, even tried some of the poses which he remembered from his yoga classes with kids. All were successful, so he decided that he could drive. The streets were almost empty anyway and in case of an accident, most probably he would be the only one injured and as nobody he could think of gave a damn about his health state at that moment, he started the engine.

The parking sensors did a good job of warning him about the pole at the back, but as his mind was elsewhere thinking of a certain blonde guy pushing his large cock into a red-head bitch's ass, the information was disregarded which ended in his bumping into the pole.

"Shit!" he thought and, trying the gas pedal, he murmured, "well, at least the car is still going."

So he decided to move on before anybody from the restaurant came out to investigate what happened. With screeching wheels he turned the corner and took another turn towards the river on the same road he had walked a few minutes earlier. He looked at the river which appeared beautiful. It was so black with tiny lights of the other shore shimmering like stars. All the boats were moored. Not a single sound of a motor coud be heard; there was complete silence and tranquility. On this side there was only the commercial and business district which looked like an abandoned city at this hour. He felt a strong urge to stop and walk alongside the bank where there was a narrow track of grass. It was really peaceful at the moment but in his mind he could see the people running along the river early in the morning.

"I have no curfew to be met. I can spend my time anyway I want!" he reasoned with himself.

He parked the car and, thinking what the day was and if he would resent his choice of spending the night like he did the next morning, he got out of it. After some mental effort he remembered that it was Thursday, well, maybe early Friday by now. And luckily he didn't have a class until two. He walked in the black of the night accompanied by the humming background noise of the city and a slight breeze which from time to time made him shiver and hold on to his coat. He ran over his life again and again and tried to figure out where exactly he had lost control of a great part of it. He thought he was in love with Lisa. His heart had ached so much he had thought of going to an ER instead of the restaurant. Now it was all numbed by the wine, and he felt quite ok.

He sat down on a bench and watched the silent water. Just when the cold started to get to him and he figured out that that much torture was enough for the night, he heard a cry which seemed to be coming from a nearby alley. He was going back to his car and had decided to head for the hotel. It was a muffled cry but it carried so much hurt that without giving a single thought to the dangers of dark deserted alleys at night he headed towards the sound, trying to see the source.

The alley was a forgotten space between two huge buildings. It was possibly a blind one. There were no street lights in it. The only light source was the stars far away which were not helping much. The garbage bins were here and there as far as he could see and there was a foul smell. Nothing could be heard for a while and he almost believed his wine-fogged mind had made up the sound when he heard the cry again. Somebody was in pain for sure. He pinched himself to make sure he hadn't passed out somewhere and dreaming.

"No, I am wide awake," he continued talking to himself and he desperately wanted to be more sober to find the source in the pitch dark alley. He called out but there was no answer. He looked for his mobile phone in his pockets to use the screen light as a flashlight, only to discover that he left it on the table at the restaurant. Reaching ahead with his hands and with short steps he tried to adjust his eyes more to the dark. Then he heard her again, this time closer.

"Hello. I'm here to help you. Are you hurt?"

No answer.

"Hello. Let me help you."

He could make out from the cry that it was a woman. He thought that maybe it was the drunk undertone in his voice that scared her but he sensed that something was very wrong and he simply had to find and help her.

At that desperate moment, like a miracle, a car passed from the deserted road, its headlights helping to lift the darkness a little bit just for a second and Chris saw the woman a few feet away. She was lying on the ground, eyes shut, her legs drawn to her stomach. When he reached the woman he felt that she was wet and trembling worse than a leaf in a storm.

"I will help you. Please don't be afraid." he whispered, in as much a soothing and sober voice as he could manage.

Deciding to take her out to the light of the street to evaluate the situation, he tried to make her stand up but, as soon as he figured out that she was unconscious, he knew that he had to act quick. So he took her into his arms, not caring about his coat being soaked with mud and water. She seemed bony and wasn't too heavy anyway but she had a large bundle in her lap, at least that was what Chris thought until he took her out into the streetlight.

The first time he really saw her under the pale streetlight was a total shock to him. At the same time, the sight was cause to sober him up quicker and more effectively than anything that could be used in this case. She was very badly beaten up, eyes swollen, some blood running from her nose and mouth, ugly bruises all around, the bundle seemed to be a baby yet to be born and from the looks of it, she was in the process of giving birth but she was totally unconscious. When Chris saw the blood running down from her legs Chris swore loudly and adopted a faster pace to his car to take her to the nearest hospital. He was practically praying and begging to God that the woman and her child would be ok.

She was crying weakly each time a contraction came. That was how he had heard her. Remembering from a movie he had seen that the time between contractions is a key information, he tried to calculate the minutes after he laid her at the backseat of his car and thanked god that nobody got away with the car because he had forgotten to lock it when leaving it, buried in his thoughts of Lisa and George, both of whom seemed like stangers in a far away land now.

Two and a half minutes between cries. That information combined with the blood scared him to hell. What if he couldn't make it on time and both the baby and the mother died on him. The police would have a few words with him for sure. They still would even if they were fine. He felt afraid that the woman would say that he was responsible or worse, that she wouldn't make it. His teaching career could be ruined by being accused of violence against a defenseless pregnant woman. But still, he had to try.

"Where is that damn state hospital?" he asked himself, then answered his own question once again, "No, that is too far away. I have to find a closer one. Come on, think, think!"

Remembering a small hospital across the bridge, close to the hotel he intended to stay at the first place, he pressed the gas pedal more.

"Please, God, please help her to hold on. Go, go, faster, faster," he repeated to himself.

He parked in front of the ER with a jolt caused by his fast braking and very calmly went inside to call somebody with a stretcher for help. The lights inside were too bright, he thought, it was too cold and the personnel on duty seemed to move in slow motion although he couldn't tell why.