A Rich Child
1101 Words
JACK MILLER
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Ignoring the burn in my throat, I swallowed another glass of vodka. Ignoring the pain in my heart, I drowned myself in alcohol, hoping that all would suddenly be fine.
But nothing was fine.
Not even the drink was making me better.
I wondered if Hèll would be better than what my life had become.
“You might want to take it easy, hot stuff.” An unfamiliar feminine voice rang in my ears along with the loud blasting music of the bar where I had found myself after driving through town aimlessly.
I turned my dizzy gaze to the female beside me and just like many females that I have seen dancing and lurking around, she was breathtaking. Or maybe it was the alcohol in my system talking.
“You are hotter stuff, sexy.” I let out, flirting right back.
Maybe flirting with her would alleviate the pain in my soul.
“I know I am but I couldn't stop wondering as I stared at you-”
“Wondering what? What's on your mind, sweetie.” I asked impatiently.
“I was thinking about the hotness we would both create if I let you come with me to my apartment. We could light the world on fire and watch it burn while we feel nothing but immeasurable pleasure.”
I gasped, feigning surprise as I played with her long black hair— or maybe it wasn't black. I couldn't tell at the moment but what I could say was, “I like the sound of that.”
“You do? Of course, you do.” My admirer cooed, laughing like she had won the lottery.
But I found the sound of her laughter annoying even though her boobs were pressed into my face and her core on my crouch.
She smelled nice too.
“But I have a better idea,” I smirked, growing another glass even though my head was killing me.
My hands grabbed the nameless lady’s name— she must have a name but I didn't bother to ask. What we were about to do was nothing personal.
Just sèx.
No names needed.
It was a simple give-and-take transaction that would please us both.
“Tell me about it before I burst into flames, hot stuff,” she said to me, licking the side of my face and grinding her àss into my growing groin as she moved to the music.
I groaned, loving her movement and wanting me despite the possibility that the young woman was older than I was.
She looked like it but also could pass for a twenty-three-year-old even though I was three years younger than that age. She could be older but she would still scream my name when I pounded into her in the restroom.
Yes, I wouldn't be going to her apartment.
I would be fûcking her in the restroom behind the bar and we would light the world on fire still.
Watching the works burn while I enjoy the climax of pleasure would be amazing. The world could burn… after all, I didn't have anyone to worry about. No loved ones.
“How about we take our hotness to the restroom and release it there? I don't think I can hold this fire in till we get to your apartment… heck! I will burst before we exit the bar.” I announced, whispering seductively into the female’s ears.
She stopped her movement and went rigid in my hands. The blue light in the bar hid her face from my blurry eyes but I sensed I just turned her off.
Desperate to keep the only normalcy I had, I thought of taking her to a motel. Get a room and do my thing to her but I didn't get to announce my thoughts.
She beat me to something when he said, “That's even better, hot stuff.”
I smiled, contented, “Then we should get going before someone else snatches me from you and ruins what we have.”
She giggled, rose from my lap, and began walking ahead of me, swinging her backside to drive me insane.
She succeeded and I was hooked until I wasn't.
I mean, as I rose from the chair I had been sitting on in the VIP section since I arrived at the bar, I felt my world crashing as my legs buckled.
“Fûck, Jackson Miller!” I cussed at myself as I struggled to balance my weight on my shaking legs…
My bimbo laughed at me, “Aren't you coming, hotness? Come on!”
“What's so damn funny?” I lashed out at her. “You can do everything but laugh at me with that annoying sound you call laughter.”
My bimbo snorted, “It's my fault for wanting to bang a drunk fool like yourself. Go fûck yourself, child.”
“What did you just call me?” I gritted, yelling even though I couldn't hear my own voice.
“I called you a child because you are one. Your school ID tells me you aren't even supposed to be in here as you aren't twenty-one yet but I can also tell that you are a rich child to afford—”
My school ID?
Fûck! Did I forget to take it off?
I quickly checked my chest to see if I hadn't unclipped the ID that had my name and current year body written on it.
Damn!
I looked around the VIP section and realized that I was being mocked. Some of them went ahead to bring out the cell phones to capture the humiliating moment but I would rather die than let my life be ruined even further.
I thought I was in control.
However, my world was spinning and my drunk self spun along with it as I bumbled my way out of the loud club…
Wanting an escape from everything.
But I didn't know where else I could go as the night claimed its place. I soon found my motorcycle which I parked in the parking lot but I was too drunk to get myself on it, not to mention, drive it.
A condescending voice that belonged to me, said to me, beating me, “You hate your dad for having Dinner on this day but here you are, drunk and unable to pay respect to Emma… What a brother you are!”
“An unworthy brother.”
I answered myself before collapsing beside my motorcycle. Darkness engulfed me and nature stole the last bit of control I had left.
- Writer
