Call Me Daddy

It was my third shot for the night. If I didn’t get drunk soon, I’d run out of money.

“Damn it, Mom,” I muttered under my breath.

It was my third time this weekend begging my mother to accept Dad’s help with her cancer treatment. I’d always known she could be difficult but it had never been this bad. Not to the point of her life.

“I’ll take nothing from him even if it kills me.”  Her words still echoed in my head. The alcohol only seemed to make her voice louder.

I swallowed my fourth shot and caught a gaze from across the room. He didn’t care to hide it, even when I returned the stare. His gaze remained steady, making me shift in my stool.

I downed another glass, trying to drown out my surroundings. But it meant nothing when he rose and walked towards me.

“You’re not taking it easy tonight, are you?” He asked, close enough for his scent to fill my nose.

Without waiting for a reply, he occupied a stool beside me. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

Now that he was closer, I got a better look at him. He was tall, not towering over me, but enough to make me tilt my head. His slender build, paired with his blow dried hair sold me the idea of a model and probably not much older than I was.

“Do you love the brand that much or are you in a contest?” He asked, now settled onto the stool.

I frowned. “I’ve only had 4 shots.”

“Oh, this is bad. You really have gotten drunk,” he teased. “You’ve had eight shots tonight, ma’am”

My brows furrowed in confusion and he kept going. “Someone please call 911!”

“What- Stop! I’m fine!” I exclaimed, almost embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “You looked so serious, I couldn’t help it.”

I went quiet for a while, taking it all in. “It’s actually my first time drinking to forget.”

“Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt. It’s that the pain hits harder after the alcohol.”

Silence stretched, both of us careful with our words.

Then out of nowhere, he said, “So while I’m at it, I try to go as hard as I can. Bring the entire bottle!”

A bottle of vodka landed between us and he poured us both a shot.

“So you don’t do this often?” He asked, emptying his glass.

I did the same. “No. Why would anyone want to live like this?”

He poured again. “How else are you supposed to have fun… or escape your troubles?”

“I don’t think troubles are to be run from,” I said, unsure if I really believed it.

“Yet here you are,” he chuckled.

I downed another shot and he followed suit. “I guess today is my day off, then.”

“It’s the weekend after all,” he affirmed.

“So,” I said, tracing the rim of my glass. “Do you drink to forget too?”

He paused, as if to think. “Sometimes. Sometimes to remember.”

I looked at him with curiosity. “You don’t look like someone with worries or regrets.

“To forget, you must first fool others,” he said, meeting my eyes.

Time seemed to freeze as we held each other’s stare. His hands brushed across mine and my pulse quickened. Our faces drew closer and I swallowed in anticipation. Our lips touched, hesitant at first, then passionately. I kissed the vodka off his lips and he, my lipstick.

The ride to his hotel room was a blur. Everything outside the moment felt distant and restraint only existed because we were not within closed doors.

When the door closed behind us, we tore the clothes off each other. Our lips only let apart to let clothes go over the other’s head.

Without warning, he lifted me off my feet and laid me on the bed. His tongue found its way to my ear and I squirmed. He pinned my wrists to the bed and drew kisses from my neck to my navel, while his hands caressed my breasts. I arched in pleasure, faint gasps escaping my mouth.

With every gasp, his appetite increased. His mouth now covered my breast while his tongue teased my nipple, swirling in directions I didn’t know existed. Below, he slid his hands between my legs and I squeezed the sheets. With his index and middle fingers, he thrusted slowly, never letting his tongue up all the while. My stomach knotted and I wrapped my arms around his neck, mad with pleasure, then he pulled away from me.

“Don’t stop now,” I exhaled, breathless.

He didn’t move but his eyes traced every inch of my body, like a hunter waiting for his moment. I caught him wearing a rubber and stretched with desire. In a moment, he raised my legs and hung them on his shoulders. His tip slipped slowly into my body and I moved in approval, wrapping my hands around his wrists.  

He started off with slow, meticulous thrusts and moans escaped my mouth in harmony with his rhythm. I bit my lips in ecstasy, helpless under the weight of his stare.

When he quickened his pace, my moans weren’t soft anymore. And when he bent over and kissed me, I moaned into his mouth. His thrusts got even faster, railing me like it was torture now. My eyes rolled behind my head as I felt a muscle contraction. My stomach tightened and I felt a rush toward my opening. I came hard but he didn’t stop.

I hung there, mindlessly taking all of him. Every thrust was deeper than the last now. Pressure built around my hips and the second climax came. He still didn’t stop, shifting back and forth like he couldn’t shake an itch. Then his breath quickened and he let out a deep groan, releasing. He collapsed onto the bed and we both fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was break of dawn. He was still asleep. I slipped out of bed and into my clothes, quietly leaving the room. It was a great night but that’s all it was.

At the hospital, I tried to sneak into my mother’s room and failed.

“Sussay?” She yawned, eyes half open.

“It’s me, mum,” I said, settling beside her.

“You left without a word. Where’ve you been?”

“Learning that pain has no days off.”