Date With Hate
Date With Hate
She laughed with a deep groan from the back of her throat, trying to catch the breath i had taken from her. I watched her chest for a moment as it rose and fell and the dampness of both her own and my sweat made her skin look smooth enough to touch again.
“Oh my God.” She laughed again, pushing the hair that was clinging to her forehead back onto the pillow to reveal her whole, slightly reddened and just-as-damp-as-her-chest face. Rolling onto her side, she rested her arm across my chest and alarm bells rang loudly in my ears. I’d be good to go again in a few minutes but it seemed this girl had other plans and I don’t often host sleepovers, especially one timers.
“I can call you a taxi.” I said, reaching down to the jeans I had once been wearing. “There’s some twenties in there.” I threw the wallet that had been sharing the pocket with my phone on the bed for her.
“I can call myself.” She grunted, taking money from my wallet and looking around the room from the bed for the underwear and pretty dress she gave up willingly.
“Alright, you can use my phone if you like.” I led back down after she refused and stomped around looking for the shoe that matched the black six inch of shiny plastic in her hand.
“You’re a jerk.” She said, loud enough for me to hear, but not quite loud enough for me to know if I had to respond.
“I can call if you want!” I protested, choosing to reply from my led down position.
“Yes, that’s the problem here.” I could hear a fight in the tone that she spoke with and her mood had ruined my after sex feeling. I sat up, sighing audibly, ready to take it. The last shoe was on her foot and she stood there, hands on her hips like she was a married woman and I was the unlucky husband. “You’re just throwing me out! We have sex and that’s it?”
I stared at her, not sure which words would have her leave me in peace.
“You’re not even going to pretend you’re going to call or anything?” She went on, “So you lied?” And on, “You are such a jerk.” Were her final words and she tottered out my room on the heels and as soon as the front door slammed, I laid back and fell to sleep before anything else could disturb me.
-
The girl with short blonde hair, but long blonde extensions lent against the bar, being less than subtle at flirting. “I’ve heard you’re quite the Casanova.” She smirked then took a sip of the strong spirit I had just purchased for her.
I smiled back. Not a false statement, but no entirely true. Sure, he was a great man, but he had a serious flaw. Picking up ‘upper class’ girls is much less successful than aiming a little bit lower. As soon as these females are aware that you have a bit of money, you are like a God. Pay for a few drinks and they’ll do a lot more than just bat their eyelashes at you and most don’t delude themselves with trivial things such as love. They know I don’t care about love. They can pretend for that moment that I might fall in love with them and I will happily play up to this fantasy, but as Kellie with an ‘ie not a y’ found out last night, sticking around to fulfil their love needs is not on my agenda.
“Did you want another?” She pointed towards my empty glass
“I should probably get going.” I said, shrugging.
The first test of the evening and she was passing with flying colours. She pouted with her bottom lip in mocking sadness and tugged gently on the sleeve of the jacket I had just slipped on. She smiled again once she saw I hadn’t stood up. She was desperate for me to stay and I felt I should stay. Just for her.
“One more then.” I said, pleased with the way she waved down the barman, eager for me to get another drink.
-
The room didn’t matter when there was a girl sat so close to me. She played with the silver that hung round me neck and swayed slightly to the music and, if the music wasn’t so loud, I’d be able to hear her humming a tune that sounds nothing like the song that everyone else is listening to in that room.
“Ian?” She sighed, “You get me, don’t you?” She finally asked, putting down my jewellery so she could rest her hand on my chest.
“I know what it’s like.” I whispered to her, looking straight into her eyes that were clouding over with the alcohol. I wasn’t telling a lie. She wasn’t the first person to talk to me, nor the first to ask if I understand and as time went by, I realised that I really did understand.
“You’re special.” She said, unable to focus on a feature on my face. In attempt to look at me, she put her cold hands to my cheek to try and hold me still, but I wasn’t moving. Her eyes were pink and looked painful and ready for tears and she stood up without warning taking my hand with her. I knew that she was mine.
We walked along the street for a little over five minutes and she was going as fast as those shoes would allow when thoroughly intoxicated and slightly wobbly. At the end of a terrace she pulled me up the two steps that led to a paint peeling black door. I had hardly time to adjust to the street lampless hallway when my back was used to close the door and she had clamped her lips to mine. She fumbled with the buckle on my belt and let me slide my hand under her dress only taking her lips from mine to take a gasp of air.
“Upstairs.” She mumbled into my mouth, wrapping herself around me to show me the way.
This was my kind of love.
“Oh my God.” She laughed again, pushing the hair that was clinging to her forehead back onto the pillow to reveal her whole, slightly reddened and just-as-damp-as-her-chest face. Rolling onto her side, she rested her arm across my chest and alarm bells rang loudly in my ears. I’d be good to go again in a few minutes but it seemed this girl had other plans and I don’t often host sleepovers, especially one timers.
“I can call you a taxi.” I said, reaching down to the jeans I had once been wearing. “There’s some twenties in there.” I threw the wallet that had been sharing the pocket with my phone on the bed for her.
“I can call myself.” She grunted, taking money from my wallet and looking around the room from the bed for the underwear and pretty dress she gave up willingly.
“Alright, you can use my phone if you like.” I led back down after she refused and stomped around looking for the shoe that matched the black six inch of shiny plastic in her hand.
“You’re a jerk.” She said, loud enough for me to hear, but not quite loud enough for me to know if I had to respond.
“I can call if you want!” I protested, choosing to reply from my led down position.
“Yes, that’s the problem here.” I could hear a fight in the tone that she spoke with and her mood had ruined my after sex feeling. I sat up, sighing audibly, ready to take it. The last shoe was on her foot and she stood there, hands on her hips like she was a married woman and I was the unlucky husband. “You’re just throwing me out! We have sex and that’s it?”
I stared at her, not sure which words would have her leave me in peace.
“You’re not even going to pretend you’re going to call or anything?” She went on, “So you lied?” And on, “You are such a jerk.” Were her final words and she tottered out my room on the heels and as soon as the front door slammed, I laid back and fell to sleep before anything else could disturb me.
-
The girl with short blonde hair, but long blonde extensions lent against the bar, being less than subtle at flirting. “I’ve heard you’re quite the Casanova.” She smirked then took a sip of the strong spirit I had just purchased for her.
I smiled back. Not a false statement, but no entirely true. Sure, he was a great man, but he had a serious flaw. Picking up ‘upper class’ girls is much less successful than aiming a little bit lower. As soon as these females are aware that you have a bit of money, you are like a God. Pay for a few drinks and they’ll do a lot more than just bat their eyelashes at you and most don’t delude themselves with trivial things such as love. They know I don’t care about love. They can pretend for that moment that I might fall in love with them and I will happily play up to this fantasy, but as Kellie with an ‘ie not a y’ found out last night, sticking around to fulfil their love needs is not on my agenda.
“Did you want another?” She pointed towards my empty glass
“I should probably get going.” I said, shrugging.
The first test of the evening and she was passing with flying colours. She pouted with her bottom lip in mocking sadness and tugged gently on the sleeve of the jacket I had just slipped on. She smiled again once she saw I hadn’t stood up. She was desperate for me to stay and I felt I should stay. Just for her.
“One more then.” I said, pleased with the way she waved down the barman, eager for me to get another drink.
-
The room didn’t matter when there was a girl sat so close to me. She played with the silver that hung round me neck and swayed slightly to the music and, if the music wasn’t so loud, I’d be able to hear her humming a tune that sounds nothing like the song that everyone else is listening to in that room.
“Ian?” She sighed, “You get me, don’t you?” She finally asked, putting down my jewellery so she could rest her hand on my chest.
“I know what it’s like.” I whispered to her, looking straight into her eyes that were clouding over with the alcohol. I wasn’t telling a lie. She wasn’t the first person to talk to me, nor the first to ask if I understand and as time went by, I realised that I really did understand.
“You’re special.” She said, unable to focus on a feature on my face. In attempt to look at me, she put her cold hands to my cheek to try and hold me still, but I wasn’t moving. Her eyes were pink and looked painful and ready for tears and she stood up without warning taking my hand with her. I knew that she was mine.
We walked along the street for a little over five minutes and she was going as fast as those shoes would allow when thoroughly intoxicated and slightly wobbly. At the end of a terrace she pulled me up the two steps that led to a paint peeling black door. I had hardly time to adjust to the street lampless hallway when my back was used to close the door and she had clamped her lips to mine. She fumbled with the buckle on my belt and let me slide my hand under her dress only taking her lips from mine to take a gasp of air.
“Upstairs.” She mumbled into my mouth, wrapping herself around me to show me the way.
This was my kind of love.