Tag Archives: short story

He found her on a night out. He went just to catch some fun with his friends. There was nothing special about her. She was just your everyday call-girl!
She was on business! He was on wine!
He took her to “somewhere more private”. Unfortunately -or fortunately, whichever -he collapsed on top of her. Some kindda sex it was! He was dead-drunk. She robbed him, not of his sperms, but of his money.
The next day, he went to the shopping mall. She was the sales girl. He was a client. He asked her out. What did she stand to lose? Of course she remembered him from the previous night. He didn’t.
They went out in the evening. They had a fun-evening. She enjoyed his company. He enjoyed hers. And she got back just in time for her night duty!
They had many more lovely evenings thereafter.
As the days went by, they got closer. She began to see another life; a more meaningful one; a more stable one. She didn’t have to bargain over her body and grace for a few notes.this guy appeared to have liked something about her. She hadn’t felt that strange in a while. She didn’t have to give something to get something. She only had to BE; she only had to be available; she only had to just be herself. What exactly he liked about her she had asked him many times. But, no matter how hard he tried explaining, she just couldn’t understand it. He treated her gently; he cared for her welfare; he made her remember days she had forgotten; days before her father died; days when she felt alive; when life was more than cycles of orgasms and spasms of pleasure.
She could really get used to this soothing new season of her life.
One night, it all seemed to happen at once! She was feeling she needed a different line of excitement tonight; she had a spontaneous idea to do a “remembrance” of her past life, just to see how it would feel now; she also had a flicker of doubt -how that someone could just love her; how less complicated life suddenly was; how “unreal” it all seemed. She just seemed to forget how real his touch was; how hard he had tried convincing her that he was real.
A trip to the “hot spot” and her fate for the night was sealed. It was as if she became a different person. (I would have said a new person, except that she had been here before.) She seemed to still have all her wiles and wits about her. The perfect seductress. She damned the consequences at that moment. There was a different fire burning inside her. She was literally on heat. She had her wild night of fun!
The following day she got up. There was a phone call. It was he. She rushed to the shower, where the night’s memories washed over her afresh. She poured out her shock to the cold shower. She washed thoroughly. She still felt dirty.
He took her out. She soon lost herself in his world. That is hard not to do if you had a guy like that. She told herself she didn’t mean to make a private fool of the man. She gave herself to his reality, finding consolation only in the truth that he loved her. She felt love again. She felt free. She felt clean.
The morning after that, she found herself on the toilet floor. And when she saw that small rod-shaped balloon, she knew what must have happened again the previous night; after such a day. She felt crushed as the reality of this new curse dawned on her. Is she meant to be like this? Is she unlovable? Is she unstable as water? Is she a confirmed slave to this night-life, her fatal alter-ego?
And so it was! She would live by day; die by night. It was a kindda inevitable death for her.
And then one night he caught her. (I am not sure I should go into all the details. And I guess he knew she must have been doing it. There were tell-tale signs.)
He left; she wept. For days after, she kept begging him. In the drama of it all, she completely lost the taste for that night-life. She felt frankly desolate. She had never felt so cold, so alone, so dirty all her life. Yet, he had left without even a word of condemnation.
The guy was torn! He couldn’t believe he was wrong. He had thought you only had to give anyone enough love and they would be better for it. He suffered a terrible episode of depression. He was quite kind enough to always pick the phone calls from her.
They eventually reconciled.
Fast forward… One month later, exactly the same series of events had taken place!
It was then the guy’s turn to wonder if he had been cursed with a fatal affection for this girl. His self-preservation suggested against it. His friends just kept off; he didn’t discuss it with them.
Funny thing was that-the guy had another girl who was crazy for him, but he didn’t just choose her. Now after every heartcrush, it was the other nice girl that would be there to care for the guy. But, in no time, he would be back with our dear heroine.
On the night that was to be their first year since they met, the guy had bought a lovely (not diamond) engagement ring. He had made all sorts of preparations for a “magical” night! So, up he went to her house. He had his key to the house. In the spirit of the surprise, he quietly unlocked the door. Cries like that of a girl being raped reached his ears from the bedroom upstairs. He rushed up the stairs in fright and fury, broke through the door and found his woman in a fit of orgasm. Her cries were cries of pain alright. Sweet pain! He staggered and slumped at the door. The sound didn’t even seem to disrupt the “burning” going on atop the bed. Both the slumping and the thumping ended about the same time. Their eyes met. The guy’s pain was as unmistakeable as the girl’s guilt. She slumped! (I guess we can safely assume the proverbial camel’s back is definitely broken at long last.)
Funny she tried calling to explain later. But, what was she to say? Half of her was so ripped she found herself halfway through suicide more than once. The other half reasoned with her it was over, and she can finally get back to “reality”. To a life of cycles of orgasms and spasms of pleasure!