One lowly pledge must satisfy the girls of Omega U.
By QuothTheRamen - Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Life as a lowly pledge
The day I went to college I thought I had cleaned my last floor. Washed my last dish. Scrubbed my last toilet. I left home after five years too many of flipping burgers and dealing with other people’s shit. I was done trying to make a bunch of assholes happy.
It took all of one day in a frat to realize I was wrong. The world was filled with unhappy assholes, and they were all my problem.
“Pledge Needledick! Make sure the floor shines.” Beko was the frat vice president. He was about as funny as a cold sore. But he was also a linebacker, so people generally felt obligated to laugh.
“It’s Cam.” I said.
“It’s Cam what?”
“It’s Cam, Sir.” I said. I did not sigh. It was difficult.
“It’s pledge Needledick now.“ Beko woofed. Like a dog. A retarded dog. "We are getting fucked up!”
Shaun slid himself between Beko and me, smooth as anyone I had ever seen.
“What Beko is trying to say is that today is your night on the chore rota Cam. All pledges take a turn.” Shaun was the frat president. And he was probably going to be a senator.
“No. I get it. Shit needs cleaning.” I said.
“Right. Spirit of brotherhood. Don’t wait up.” Shaun said. "Beko! What have I told you about pissing on the floor?“
And, with the sloppy zip of a zipper, I was alone. I had the place to myself, piles of shit to clean up, and a fresh puddle of piss to mop.
“I am so fucking stupid.” I said.
I pledged the frat because Alpha Nu Alpha Lambda was the place for business majors. Just this chapter alone had produced three Fortune 500 CEOs, a couple of Silicon valley royalty, and so many millionaires they stopped keeping track. And business is all about who you know. A poor boy from the shit end of the city who does not know anyone needs to change that. And so I did. And now I was picking up empties while the future leaders of the free world were getting shitfaced and laid. You would think that with so many rich bastards they would have a maid.
I was well into the second hour and elbow deep in the world’s most disgusting toilet when the doorbell rang.
I didn’t get up. I just kept scrubbing. Whoever they were here for it certainly was not me.
The bell rang again.
And again.
And then someone starting pressing it like they’d been duct taped to the damn button and then had a seizure.
I ripped off my yellow gloves, jogged to the door and opened it.
“What the fu-” I started. I did not end that sentence. I saw where it was going, flagged it down, and gave it directions to a new and better place.
“How can I help you?” I said.
Is this because I am a good person? The kind of person who does not tear people’s heads off for no reason? Of course not. I worked in fast food. It was because, on the other side of the door, stood a very pretty young Asian girl in heels, a knit skirt, and a sorority sweater so tight that it had to have been drawn on her.
The girl blinked the blink of the slightly high, or the very dumb.
“I’m here for Beko.” she said.
Dumb it is.
“He’s out right now. I can tell him you called.” I said.
She blinked again.
“I didn’t call. I walked.”
“Right. No. Totally get that. Do you want to leave a message?”
“Nope. I want to see Beko.”
“Tell you what. Come on in. We’ll call him.” I said. “Let me just wash my hands.”
She walked in and, with a clear familiarity, walked over to our least disgusting couch and sat on it. I ran to the sink, scrubbed up and came out. Then I called Beko from my cell. He answered on the first ring.
“Beko, it’s me, Cam. I have a–” I looked at the Asian space cadet quizzically.
“June.” she said.
“–June here to talk to you.”
“Needledick! I was watching porn on my phone.” Beko shouted. Over what must have been one hell of a party. "Now I just see your stupid Needledick name on my phone. Hang up so I can see some titties.“
So I hung up.
"He’s very busy right now.” I said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Is Joe here?”
“No. Just me.”
“Louis?”
“No. He’s out.”
Ryan?“
"No. I am the only one here. I am the only Alpha in the house. There is just me. I see you thinking of another name. But he is not here either. I assure you, I am the Alpha and the Omega of people in this house.”
She looked confused.
“No. I am the Omega. Omega Chi Upsilon Mu." She said.
Now I was confused. Omega was almost a honor society. It was not your run of the mill sorority.
"Pardon?”
“I’m an Omega.” She smiled. “And I am high as fuck.”
Ahh. So not dumb. Just really high.
“Right. Well is there anyone else you need me to call? I don’t want to blow you off, but I still have a lot of cleaning to do.” I said.
“I want to blow you off.”
“Is that a pot joke?”
“No.” She stopped, wrinkled up in a frown, then continued. “At least I don’t think so. I need to blow an Alpha.”
“And why is that?”“
"Scavenger hunt. You guys are worth forty points for a facial.”
“I’m sorry?”
Let’s step back for a moment. Time to create a Venn diagram. One circle will be “Woman who have sucked my dick." Small circle. Not empty. Filled with women to whom I am forever grateful. Let’s have the other circle be "Women who are so fucking hot that I silently apologize after jerking off to their memory.” Now, and I want to be totally clear on this, these circles do not intersect. Not even a little. They don’t even get written out on the same piece of paper.
Imagine too, a circle labelled “Women who let me cum on their face.” This circle was empty.
Back to the moment.
“Tonight is the Omega Scavenger hunt. And I wanna win it.” she said. Her smile was tempting me to make a bad decision.
“So what do I do?”
“Take off your pants. But leave on the Alpha sweatshirt.”
I reached for my belt, and then years of self-preservation kicked in.
“Wait, Beko’s not your boyfriend is he? Because he would have an easy time killing me and I would have a hard time stopping him.”
“Nope. He just has a nice dick.”
Which is exactly not what I want to think about when I next see Beko.
I dropped my pants. Then I closed my eyes and waited for the someone to tell me that this was a terrible terrible prank.
What I felt instead was warm breath across my the head of my dick. I cautiously opened one eye, then the other. She’d taken one of the couch cushions and put it on the floor in front of me. She was kneeling on it, her face just inches away from me. I was not hard. But that was not going to last.
She traced her fingers up my thigh, sliding them slowly up, I bit my lip as I watched her. Her hand slid under my balls, then she ran a finger from my ass all the way to where they hung. All the while her hot breath surrounded me.
I’d never watched myself get hard before, but it was happening so fast it barely registered. One minute her hand lightly cupped my balls and the next I am so damn hard that it almost slaps me in the stomach.
“You like this?” She asked, as she ran her soft cheek along the head.
“I’m neither dead nor gay, so yes.”
“Good.” She said. The she wrapped her hand around the base of my shaft, holding it up. She leaned in and alternated between soft kisses and quick licks as she worked her way up. I balled my fists so hard that my nails dug into my palms. She teased and licked her way up, until her mouth was just at the head. Then she looked up at me, winked, and took me in her mouth.
I’d had my dick sucked before. I thought it was awesome. It turns out that everyone who came before was just shit.
She ran her tongue under my shaft, her mouth wet and ready. She swirled it against the hole at the tip, then leaned in, taking inch after inch. She did not slow. She did not stop. She took me in until her nose was flush against me, her chin touching my balls. She winked again.
And then slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, she let me out. Her tongue made every inch of my man flesh electric. I reached down to her head, but she just brushed me off, then waved her finger in the classic naughty naughty gesture. Chastened, I put my hands behind my head and groaned.
She firmly wrapped one hand around my root, and with the other cupped my balls, pressing a finger against my taint. She leaned forward again, taking me until her lips reached her hand.
She began to rock her head back and forth, slowly at first. Her hand stayed with her lips, making every rock a long slow stroke of my dick, with the wet miracle of her mouth keeping me on edge. I took a deep breath as she started speeding up. Every downstroke felt my cock getting wetter, every upstroke felt my balls getting tighter. Her free hand was rubbing my taint, teasing my balls, and driving me crazy.
I felt my hips go loose as I adopted her rhythm. Pulling away when she pulled away. Pushing in as she pushed in. I felt myself in the back of her throat, then running the length of her tongue. She kept a wet suction that gave me no respite. I felt myself pushing the pace now. Seeing her, so gorgeous, so sexy so fucking good at sucking a cock was too much. I pushed so hard she gagged. I pulled out so far the cool air hit me.
But she did not stop. Her grip on my shaft tighten. She slammed me into her mouth as if daring me to try to stop. I was off balance, standing on my toes, my dick falling into her amazing mouth, my eyes seeing stars.
“Fucking Christ! I’m going to blow!” I said.
She sped up, moving so fast she got blurry. I felt my load begin, rumbling from the depths of me up my shaft. She felt it too, and right when it was about to escape she learned back, her hands continuing to work the shaft. I exploded on to her. On her cheek, her perfect nose, her hair. And she put her face right against me. Pulling me still, milking every last drop onto her skin. I was in love.
So it is a clear understatement when I say I was surprised when the flash went off.
“Did you just take a selfie?” I said.
“Yep. Gotta get the points." She said.
"I forgot about that.” And I had. This was clearly a one-time thing. But at least I closed the Venn diagram.
“So June, could you send me that?”
“Nope.”
“Right." I reached for the paper towel roll that remained from my cleaning and offered it to her.
"Towel?" I said.
She smiled the gorgeous smile, buried under layers of my spunk.
"Nope. I’ll wear it out. Extra five points.”
And, just like that, she was gone. It was the best thirty minutes of my life so far.
Of course, by the end of the night it would be the third best thirty minutes of my life.
One lowly pledge must make her nasty video dreams come true.
I found pizza under a couch. Not a pizza box. No box to be found. Not a single slice, but instead eight slices, composing a whole pizza of what I can only assume was pepperoni pizza, all perfectly arranged under the couch. Like it was being delivered to hungry mice whose ordering reach far exceeds their grasp. Or a bunch of morons with the munchies. Fifty/fifty.
I had been tempted, only briefly, to leave the pizza out as a reminder to my frat brothers to clean up after themselves. But, given the bags of filth I trucked out to the dumpster, this cause was lost. I tossed the pizza in with the condom wrappers, used dental floss, and random crusty Kleenex that so recently littered our floors.
You might think that I would be unhappy, cleaning up after a couple dozen very well connected douchebags. And, on a normal night, you would be right. But this was not a normal night. This was a night in which the mere fact of my association with Alpha Nu Alpha Lambda resulted in me getting the kind of blow job reserved for men with excessive body hair, giant cigars, and private armies. A night in which one of the hottest women I had ever seen allowed me to not only cover a tile in ethnic bingo (Row: BJ, Column: Asian. Bingo!) but also had me paint her face like a drunken Jackson Pollack.
So while I may be the lowest man on a very mangy totem pole, I was also a man who had had my pole waxed. I was in a post orgasm glow, and oscillated between absolute disbelief that I might ever be so lucky, and a profound fear that the best thing that might ever happen to me had already happened.
It was deep into one of these swings into self-doubt, and deep into a pile of what I could only assume were once out dishes, that the doorbell rang.
It may seem crazy to you that I did not run to the door. It may seem crazy to you that I did not even leave the dishes behind. But, to be clear, you are three hundred words into chapter two. I assumed I was living in the boring epilogue of chapter one.
So I did not walk to the door. And I did not run. Instead I picked up the next sorry excuse for a plate and started scrubbing.
The doorbell rang again. With feeling. And then again. Eventually I realized that whomever was pushing it was actually tapping out a beat. A lively bossa nova thing. And they were not going anywhere.
No night is perfect. I put the dish down, dried off my hands, and walked to the door. The persistent beat made my feet want to run, but I kept them under control.
I stood in front of the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.
“Welcome to Alpha Nu, how can I help you?”
It was dark outside. But she was very blonde. The kind of blonde that happens when you have hair bleach and a wandering mind. The hair framed a lovely face, ghostly pale. And now I was staring. She smiled, a thousand watt thing.
“You can help me by getting out of my way.”
“What?”
“‘How can you help me?’” She said. “You just asked. Then you got stupid.”
“Right. No. Come in. I’m Cam.” I moved out of the way
She pushed past me, pulling a giant roller bag.
“I’m Mary. But everyone calls me Daisy.”
“Why is that?”
She hit me with the smile again. "Because I tell them to.“
She put the bag down, then spun around like a Julie Andrews on a German mountain. This caused her slightly modest sundress to become much less modest, and gave me a lovely view of a pair of runner’s legs. And I was staring again.
"This will have to do. It’s funny, because the place looks so classy outside. All bricks and ivy. Then you come in and it looks like someone threw up on the floor.” She said.
“Someone does throw up on the floor. Every day. His name is Ted. He calls it clearing his throat.”
Daisy looked at me with an expression that I could not place. Something between amused and irritated.
“Let the artist work, dear.” She said. “And that is not the visual I want in my head.”
She stalked around the room, framing parts with her fingers.
“I want sultry. I want dark. I want something that oozes passion and hunger and need.” She said.
“It’s a dump. A dump with couches that are so nasty they make crunching sounds when you sit on them.” I said.
“It needs lighting. It needs ambiance. It needs to be perfect.”
“Perfect for what?" I asked.
"This!” She said. Then she handed me a piece of paper. I scanned it.
“Is this a shot list?”
“Of course. You can’t direct without one.”
“And everything on this-” I waved the sheet. “Is going to happen here?”
“Of course.”
“Who is playing willing young co-ed?” I asked.
“Me. I am the star of all my works.”
“And who is playing the hard and ready young stud?”
“Well Cam, I was going to audition the boys,” She said. And then that smile almost knocked me down. “but you’re the only one here. So… are you up for it?”
I started pulling off my pants.
She put a hand on my chest.
“Hold up cowboy. You’ve seen the shot list. Not until scene 3. Now help me set up.”
You might think a roller bag would only hold a small amount of film equipment. You would be wrong. You might think that setting up lights, area mikes, a camera, and a bunch of shit that I do not have names for would be difficult with an erection. You would be right. But, given the proper motivation, all work can be rewarding.
“I’ve never seen anyone work so fast.” She said.
“I’m a lover of film.” I said. “You know, I don’t normally ask questions when an absurdly attractive woman asks me to make a porno with her-”
“You get asked that a lot?” She said, as she was draping sheets over the couch.
“More than I’d have ever thought.” I said. “But why are we making a porno?”
“Because I am an Omega Mu. And this is our annual scavenger hunt.” She said. “This video should be worth 355 points, should you be able to keep your load in for every shot.”
“So, I’m just going to ask this.” I said. I looked up and saw her fiddling with the camera. It took me a second to refocus from looking down her dress at her very impressive rack. She caught me looking, and smiled behind the viewfinder.
“Why are you doing this at all. This is not me trying to scare you away, I am just really curious.”
She stopped for a second, and pulled a couple of wispy blonde strands from in front of her face to behind her ear. I don’t know that I believe in any god, but if one exists he must be damn happy with his work here.
“Do you know how competitive Omega Mu is? The girls there are driven to be great. They will walk off this campus and into lives that most people only dream of. And I’m a film major. They don’t respect what I do. They don’t understand it. Most of them can’t even be bothered to stay awake during my films.”
She stepped close, so close I could smell strawberries and the faintest hint of excitement.
“But they will stay awake for this one. By the time I’m done showing it to them they’ll be sitting in puddles of their own juice, awkwardly fidgeting and looking for any excuse to get back to their rooms and get their stuck up snatches off. That room will absolutely stink of arousal and lust and need. And they will know that I am one hell of a filmmaker.”
My dick was threatening to leave my body and go into orbit.
“Is the camera rolling? I need it to be rolling.” I said.
She pointed at the red light. “It’s been rolling for the last five minutes. Take off your shirt.”
I took my shirt off so damn fast I nearly sprained my shoulders.
“I don’t have a script.”
“We’ll improvise.”
She closed her eyes and leaned in. I laid my fingers on top of her hand, gliding them up her arm, to her shoulders. I traced her collarbone, then ran them up her neck, to her cheek. Her lips parted. I leaned in to meet them with my own. I felt a slight shudder as they touched, and I wondered if perhaps all her confidence masked a delicacy, a pure and innocent nature, uncorrupted by all the debauchery that surrounds her.
Then I felt a firm hand against my chest. It shoved me on to the couch. I fell with no resistance. She walked up to me, put one leg up by my head and pulled up her dress, revealing absolutely no underwear. “You will lick the living shit out of my pussy. If you’re lucky I’ll let you lick my ass. And If you do a very good job at that I will let you put that monster trying to escape your jeans balls deep inside me.”
I am a terrible judge of character.
That delicate flower ground her incredibly wet pussy into my face. I am not the smartest guy. And I am no actor. But I certainly take direction. I put my hands on her thighs to steady her, then teased her outer lips with my tongue, splitting them, letting them close, tasting her mix of sweat and natural lubrication. I pulled the inner lips between mine, tracing them up to the hard nub. I ran my lips against it, lightly at first, teasing it with my tongue. She rocked her hips into my face, grinding her clit against my lips.
I sped up my tongue to meet her urgency, tightening my grip on her legs, pulling her into me. Her juices flowed all over my jaw, pooling on my chest. She lowered her hands to my head and pulled me in so tight I could barely breathe.
“Faster you bastard! If I don’t get off you don’t get off.”
Being a gentleman, I obliged the lady. But I knew that speed alone was not going to be enough. I freed one of my hands and ran it between her legs. I took her clit between my lips and raced my tongue along it, feeling it pulse with her arousal. A feeling matched only with the untended arousal currently in my pants.
“You can’t go too hard with me. And you sure as hell aren’t going hard enough.”
I am competitive. Ninety nine percent of the time it is a terrible flaw. This day, not so much. I found an extra gear and pulsed my tongue against her, moving so fast that I got sloppy, and was licking the whole of her pubis. I slipped a couple fingers into her depths, probing until I found the rough patch of her G-spot, then timed my strokes outside with those inside.
“Fuck. Just keep doing that.” She said. Then words became groans, moved to soft moans, quickly strung together and rising in pitch. I kept up a steady rhythm, feeling her body stiffen, her strong legs go taut, her breathing get ragged.
“Fuck me.” She shouted. “Fuck Me!”
She pulled my head in hard, rubbing herself against me. Her clit ground against me, tracing a wet line on my lips. She gasped, then caught her breath.
“Fuck”
Her body went slack. I eased my lips off of her. Took my fingers out, running them along my tongue to capture the taste. I lowered her to the couch, then reached for my belt.
She smiled. And I wanted her so badly that there was no terrible thing I would not have done.
“Not yet. You’re only halfway there. And I need more points.”
And with that she spread her legs, then pulled her knees in.
Now, to be clear, at that point I’d have cut off my left arm to fuck her. So eating her ass was not going to be a problem. I dove right the fuck in.
I kissed the cutest pinkest prettiest little asshole that I had ever seen. It was wet with her juices and my spit, and I could not help but run my lips upon the rim. She gasped when my lips touched, and it puckered tightly. I blew on it, seeing it shrink with the cold. I ran my tongue under it, watching it loosen as she got aroused.
He hands drifted to her pussy, and she spread it apart with one, then ran two fingers through. A delicate strand of drool ran between her fingers and her pussy, and it was all I could do to not ram my tongue against her pretty pucker.
My resolve lasted for about two seconds. Then she started grinding her wet fingertips on her clit and I started pushing my tongue against her. Probing for resistance, feeling her tense. I could hear her fingers, sloppily running, making the wet noises of sex and driving me out of my goddamn mind. She sped up and I pushed my tongue right against her flower. I’d read her rhythm, I waited for my moment, and when it came I pushed into her ass.
“Jesus Fucking Christ!" She shouted. I didn’t stop. It felt like a compliment.
I ran my fingers into her again, easing in a couple, felling myself fill her, wanting so much to put more into her. She rocked herself back and forth, using me as a tool to get her off. I was happy with this arrangement.
Tongue, fingers and mind were all synchronized as she took control. Her breathing sped up, but I kept my pace. Her rocking increased, her hungry pussy pulling my fingers in, but I was patient. I knew I would get what I wanted and she was about to get hers.
"Don’t. Fuck. This. Up.” She said. Each word punctuated with a thrust. “I’m. Going. To. Cum.”
And as she said it I felt the signs. She bottomed out on my fingers, her wet pussy spasmed against them. Her ass rippled against my tongue, Her toes curled, and then I got a face full of what I can only assume was her ejaculate. Given what I had done to June it only felt fair.
Daisy put both legs on the ground and stood up. Her dress fell back over her assets, robbing me of the wonderful view.
“That was worth an extra 20 points. So I am very happy.” She said. “I think it is time to make you very happy. Take off your pants.”
You can’t rip off blue jeans. Denim is not a fabric that rips. But you can get them off so fast that short one high speed camera no one can tell the difference.
“Stay on the couch.” She said. She lifted one spaghetti strap and slowly pulled it over her shoulder. Then the other one. The dress fell noiselessly to the ground. She wore no bra. She didn’t need one. Her breasts were as amazing as I had hoped, and the rest of her runner’s body was more than I could possibly have dreamed. Taut muscle and soft flesh played in perfect harmony.
She stepped towards me, putting one knee outside my legs, then the other. She lifted herself up on her knees, so that she could look down on me, her perfect breasts damn near poking my eyes out.
“How badly do you want to fuck me.” She said.
I could feel all of the wet between her legs dripping on me. My dick twitched like a divining rod on the Mississippi. I looked into those amazing blue eyes and said “A lot.”
She smiled. “I’ll fix that in editing.” Then she lowered herself onto me. I wanted to thrust. To take her. To put my hands on her hips, give in to the animal inside me, and slam myself into that perfect wet pussy until I exploded deep within her.
But I did not. It nearly killed me, but I kept my shit together. I wanted this to last as long as possible. I felt the lips slowly divide, taking in the head. There was no friction, just heat and wet. She put her forearms on my shoulder, leaned in close, pressed her chest against mine, and brought her lips to my ear.
“I love the way you smell. Your sweat and my juices have me so fucking hot.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
She lowered herself a little more. I felt the first inch of me squeezed into her depths.
“You want to take me. Use me. The way I used you.”
I groaned. Her tongue teased my ear. She pushed further, inviting more of me in.
“I don’t know how you’re holding off. Am I not wet enough for you? Tight enough?”
I said nothing. My concentration was all I had left. She slid down a bit, her wetness running down my shaft.
“Or maybe you’re not man enough to take what you want.”
I put my hands on her hips. Put my lips to her ears. And I stage whispered, loud enough for the camera to hear.
“You talk too much.”
My hips rose. Hers descended. She gasped, but I had been patient for too long. I lifted her, pulled out, then pushed back in. I lifted one arm around her back and pulled her close to me, feeling those tremendous breasts push against me, feeling the muscles in her back tighten.
“You’re going to match me, stroke for stroke. You are going to match my pace, you are going to match my enthusiasm, and I swear to god you are going to cum with me. I have done everything you wanted. Everything you told me to do. And I am going to fuck the shit out of you.”
She stopped. And I was struck with terror that I had overplayed my hand. But that smile, dear lord that smile.
“I knew you had it in you tiger.”
She lowered herself to meet me. We started slow, with her walls teasing every bit of me. Each deliberate thrust brought with it a host of mind bending sensations. I locked eyes with her. Saw her passion and need as she pulled me in. Watched her groan every time I bottomed out, watched her grind her pubic bone against mine, trying to get all the stimulation she could.
I could have gone forever, but she was a performer. Her pace quickened. I sped up to match. I lowered my head to her breast. She pulled me in, forcing it into my mouth, responding to the suction, the delicate nibble,. My speed increasing, my erection an iron bar straining inside her. Her moans getting louder, my excitement reaching a crest.
All pretense of erotic sex had been abandoned. I pushed myself into her with violence, she responded in kind. Our bodies slapped against each other. My hands were gripping her hard runner’s ass for dear life, her nails dug into my back. The only word I could say was fuck. The only thing I could do was fuck, All I ever wanted to do was fuck. But all the servicing of this woman had taken its toll. No man could resist her for long.
“Now cum for me." I said.
I don’t know who came first. I came so hard I blacked out for a second, every sense shutting down so that I could bust the world’s most righteous nut. She had taken me all the way into her, so deep I could feel every bit of the inside of her, and it was all squeezing me as she pulsed through her own orgasm. I don’t know if I’ve ever cum more. I’m not sure I could.
After a minute she stretched out, still impaled on me, giving me an eyeful that I will take with me to the grave and far beyond.
"And cut.” She said. Then she got up and walked to the camera. Everything I’d left behind was running down her leg and she did not mind at all.
“Are you sure you’ve never acted before? You seem like a natural.”
“Is this pillow talk?”
“No. A direct question.”
“Ahh. No. Not since I was a tree in the 3rd grade musical.”
She finished packing the camera. “You must have been one hell of a tree. Now help me clean up.”
I broke down the lights and the mics. I stole every glance I could. If this was going to be the best night of my life I wanted to remember every bit of it.
Far too quickly we were packed. She pulled on her dress. I pulled on my clothes.
She turned to leave.
“Daisy. stop.” I said. “Can I give you my number? In case of rewrites or something?”
Daisy reached into her bag, and pulled something out. The she hit me with that smile one last time.
“Here’s my card. I’ll be honest, your ear for dialogue is shit, so you will in no way be involved with a rewrite.” She said. “But, if you are ever looking to fuck again, my cell is on the back.”
I stood stock still and watched her walk away. Shock does terrible things to a man.
Then I spent the next fifteen minutes memorizing her phone number, because I am not a complete idiot. The day may come when I forget who I am, where I came from, and everything I have ever cared about. And on that day will still be able to recite all 10 fucking digits because some shit is too damn important to forget.
By QuothTheRamen for Literotica
