The Sinful Bond

As I walk across the crowded courtyard of Stanford University I notice things that don’t typically catch my eye. Like the water dripping from a young girl’s pink dress on her first big day of college, or the squealing tires on motorcycles driven by big headed, seniors dressed in leather jackets and chains. Today is different, I drop my cigarette butt in the storm drain and make my way to my shitty, off campus apartment. The rain coming down harder with each passing moment. Personally I like the rain, I don’t have to fake happy emotions or have to make uncomfortable declines when asked to go out. I buzz myself in the old brick building and clunk my knee high, chunky laced up boots up the spiraling stairs. No need to lock my door, nobody comes here anyway. My mother’s locked away in her pretty house in Beverly Hills that my father’s untimely death pays for. She couldn’t wait to get rid of me, she’s hated me my whole life. My nanny Abby loved me just as much as my Father, so my Mommy Dearest got rid of her. I run my fingers across the scars painted across my back and belly, scars from her. I look at them in the mirror across the room and wonder, who would I be if Elsie Person wasn’t my Mother. “Wishful thinking.” I muttered to myself, walking over to the bay window and sliding it open for a smoke. I walk through life in a daze, a blur, feeling absolutely nothing. Fog rises and sirens blare as I sit here thinking of nothing, feeling nothing. Just about when I thought I was going to have a quiet, peaceful night my phone vibrates, Natalie a girl I gave my number for a school project who now assumes we are “besties” is inviting me to a club down the street call The Black Panther. A shot of tequila does sound pretty good, and little miss Natalie has offered to buy my drinks. I agree to meet her at 7 o’clock and hop in the shower. I turn only the hot water on to try to boil off the memories of my childhood but it never seems to work. I dress myself in fishnets, with dark, faded jean shorts and an off the shoulder, cropped band tee and my trusty chunky boots. Layering dark brown and black on my eyes to hide the deep set, dark circles due to lack of sleep, my dark maroon, topped with black lip combo to seal the deal. I ignore all the cat calls on the way there, none of these boys could satisfy my appetite in their wildest dreams. They aren’t worth a second glance. My desires are not for the weak minded, I’d break them in a day. “Molly! We’re over here!” Yells pretty, little Natalie, with her pink cardigan and matching bows in her long brown hair. Her big doe eyes widened as she looks me up and down. “You look fantastic!.” She squeals, wrapping her arms around me for a big hug I didn’t want. “Thanks.” I say, peeling her off me like a leech. “ I already ordered your tequila shots and lemon drops.” She informs. “Thanks.” I say again, Natalie knows I’m a girl of few words, it doesn’t seem to bother her, I guess it allows her to talk even more. “This is my friend James Goode from class.” Natalie says, I look up and see a boy towering over me, large glasses and wavy brown hair, with stunning green eyes. He smiles widely at me, reaching out his hand. But. I don’t take it, I look from his eyes to his matching green sweater and black dress pants, a few tattoos peeking out when he moves. “This is Josh and Garrett from Chem.” She informs but they don’t stand out to me, just another couple whimpy boys that I’d swallow whole in a matter of minutes. “Guys, this Molly Person.” She says handing me a few shots for myself. I grin and wave as I plop down on a bar stool and take about 5 shots back to back. “ Damnnn girl.” I hear from one of the invalids she has accompanying her. I turn my attention to James, watching, stalking my next prey. His lack of eye contact is telling me I’ve made him nervous. “Are you nervous, James?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “Umm no.” He chuckled nervously. Yes. “Got a girlfriend, James?” “No.” He says, taking a swig of whiskey and running his long, elegant fingers through is hair. “Ahh.” I say, taking a few more shots. “You’re dressed awfully fancy tonight James.” “You look stunning yourself.” He replies. I scoff at his feeble attempt to flirt and grab my things. “Natalie I’m heading home.” I say, and I’m out the door before she can talk me into staying. “Hey wait!” James yells running down the sidewalk after me, “Did I offend you? I didn’t mean to if I did, I just wanted to tell..” I cut him off, “Are you coming with me or not.” I asked. Without hesitation he follows, just like I thought he would. It’s not long before we are at my studio apartment I’m stretched out on my bed. James sits quietly on the sofa, rubbing his nervous palms together, his jaw clenching each time. I kick my boots off and start removing articles of clothing, he tries to pretend he’s not looking but he can’t help it. I shut the lamp off to hide as much scars as possible, the only light is the moon coming through my window. I motion my finger for him to come closer, and like a good little boy, he obeys. Soon we are nose to nose, I can feel the rough fabric against my naked chest, sending chills throughout my body. “Do you want to touch me, James?” I ask. “Yyess.” He stuttered. I push his shoulder down until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his hand, dragging his long fingers up and down my body. He gasps as I stick his pointer finger in my mouth and suck. “Wait..” He says, “I’ve never..” “Shhh. If you’re a good boy, I’ll show you.” I whisper in his ear. His breath hitches as I run both his hands over my chest. I grab him by the collar to his knees and prop a foot on the bed. “Give it your best shot.” I demand. He runs his hands up my thigh to my center. I let him explore for a moment to get his thoughts in order. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.” He says, removing his glasses and placing them neatly beside him. “I want you to touch me, with these,” I inform grabbing his fingers, “and with this.” I place my thumb on his tongue. I feel his breath quicken but he keeps a brave face. He buries his face between my legs, throwing one over his shoulder. Putting his tongue in the perfect position for me to ride his face. He grips my hips and flows to my rhythm. I grab a handful of his hair and hold myself up with the other. I hear soft groans a whimpers escape from his mouth, it’s like he was made for me to break.