toward Drake. They land on his lap. His hand picks them up and
holds them in a ball, clenched in his left fist. “Play with yourself,” he
instructs me. His tone doesn’t change at all.
“Why don’t you join me?” I ask
him. Drake shrugs and gives me a slight smile.
“I like to watch,” he tells me.
Oh, interesting, I think to myself.
The disappointment must be obvious across my face because he reassures me, “I
will join you…soon.” I smile and settle back against the pillows that feel
like silk on my bare skin and decide to do as I’m told, not because he told me
to, but because I want to do it for him. I put my finger in my mouth to get it
wet, which is cliché but I watch a lot of dirty movies and think that men like
to see girls actually do the things that only tend to happen in porn. To
confirm this I trace my wet fingertip around my nipple until it turns into a
stiff, hard peak while watching Drake’s face. He is annoyingly difficult to
read, though the slightly faster movements of his chest indicate I’m performing
well. I press my nipple down gently and watch as it springs back up instantly.
With my other hand I reach down to
stroke my thigh, which has a lingering stickiness to it from the drink and my
own bodily fluids from earlier at dinner. I watch Drake the whole time. He is
calm and still but I can see the clenching muscles on the arm he is holding my
panties in. I know my actions have some effect on him. I part myself with my
hand and give him a good view by lying on my back with my feet pointed toward
him and my knees in the air. Sliding two fingers inside of myself, I feel how
wet I am again. I wonder if it’s possible to make myself come without Kate
tonight. It certainly feels like I might, but I want to wait for Drake. I ache
for him to join me, but for now I am alone with myself. I close my eyes and
let my mind wander. Bad idea. Suddenly I am in a place I haven’t been in a
very long time….
“She’s in here,” I hear my daddy
say. I am in my room from when I was a child. I recognize the yellow
bedspread and the stain in the corner by the white wooden door. My stuffed
tiger named “Bunny” is propped up against the windowsill, and I suddenly feel
the urge to run over to him and squeeze him and cry. I sit on my bed afraid for
the man who will inevitably come inside and lay on top of me. They always come
and do things I don’t like and laugh and leave. Daddy gets money and buys me a
new toy, but I don’t care about the toys, I just want to be left alone. “I
told you she’s beautiful.”
It’s not one man, but two. I can’t
see their faces, but they are wearing dark clothes and look rich and mean, even
though they’re smiling. One sets up a tripod and puts a camera on top of it.
He leaves his clothes on. The other is about to take his clothes off but my
daddy stops him. “Money first,” he says. “And you stop when I say stop. I
told you what you can and can’t do and don’t think I won’t kick the shit out of
you if you break my rules in my house.” The man nods, ready to agree to anything.
He throws his suit jacket over Bunny and pulls his tie off quickly. He is
eager and something in his eyes tells me that he isn’t a good person. No one
who comes over to visit me is a good person. Now he is in his underwear, and my
daddy stands by my head and tells me to lie down and be still, stroking my hair
away from my face. He always stays there the whole time, whispering to me,
telling me he loves me, but I don’t believe him anymore. I told him if he
loved me he’d stop and he doesn’t ever let it stop. It just happens again and
again, week after week, sometimes a lot. The other man stands near the camera
and I see a red light on. The man in his underwear lies next to me and begins
to touch me and rub himself against me, and I am sinking inside the hole in my
bed….
Drake is on
holds them in a ball, clenched in his left fist. “Play with yourself,” he
instructs me. His tone doesn’t change at all.
“Why don’t you join me?” I ask
him. Drake shrugs and gives me a slight smile.
“I like to watch,” he tells me.
Oh, interesting, I think to myself.
The disappointment must be obvious across my face because he reassures me, “I
will join you…soon.” I smile and settle back against the pillows that feel
like silk on my bare skin and decide to do as I’m told, not because he told me
to, but because I want to do it for him. I put my finger in my mouth to get it
wet, which is cliché but I watch a lot of dirty movies and think that men like
to see girls actually do the things that only tend to happen in porn. To
confirm this I trace my wet fingertip around my nipple until it turns into a
stiff, hard peak while watching Drake’s face. He is annoyingly difficult to
read, though the slightly faster movements of his chest indicate I’m performing
well. I press my nipple down gently and watch as it springs back up instantly.
With my other hand I reach down to
stroke my thigh, which has a lingering stickiness to it from the drink and my
own bodily fluids from earlier at dinner. I watch Drake the whole time. He is
calm and still but I can see the clenching muscles on the arm he is holding my
panties in. I know my actions have some effect on him. I part myself with my
hand and give him a good view by lying on my back with my feet pointed toward
him and my knees in the air. Sliding two fingers inside of myself, I feel how
wet I am again. I wonder if it’s possible to make myself come without Kate
tonight. It certainly feels like I might, but I want to wait for Drake. I ache
for him to join me, but for now I am alone with myself. I close my eyes and
let my mind wander. Bad idea. Suddenly I am in a place I haven’t been in a
very long time….
“She’s in here,” I hear my daddy
say. I am in my room from when I was a child. I recognize the yellow
bedspread and the stain in the corner by the white wooden door. My stuffed
tiger named “Bunny” is propped up against the windowsill, and I suddenly feel
the urge to run over to him and squeeze him and cry. I sit on my bed afraid for
the man who will inevitably come inside and lay on top of me. They always come
and do things I don’t like and laugh and leave. Daddy gets money and buys me a
new toy, but I don’t care about the toys, I just want to be left alone. “I
told you she’s beautiful.”
It’s not one man, but two. I can’t
see their faces, but they are wearing dark clothes and look rich and mean, even
though they’re smiling. One sets up a tripod and puts a camera on top of it.
He leaves his clothes on. The other is about to take his clothes off but my
daddy stops him. “Money first,” he says. “And you stop when I say stop. I
told you what you can and can’t do and don’t think I won’t kick the shit out of
you if you break my rules in my house.” The man nods, ready to agree to anything.
He throws his suit jacket over Bunny and pulls his tie off quickly. He is
eager and something in his eyes tells me that he isn’t a good person. No one
who comes over to visit me is a good person. Now he is in his underwear, and my
daddy stands by my head and tells me to lie down and be still, stroking my hair
away from my face. He always stays there the whole time, whispering to me,
telling me he loves me, but I don’t believe him anymore. I told him if he
loved me he’d stop and he doesn’t ever let it stop. It just happens again and
again, week after week, sometimes a lot. The other man stands near the camera
and I see a red light on. The man in his underwear lies next to me and begins
to touch me and rub himself against me, and I am sinking inside the hole in my
bed….
Drake is on
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