Impure Desires

JAYDEN I drove around the bustling streets of New York City, jaded from working for straight ten f*****g long hours. Taking the U-turn, I drove to the cemetery. Today is my parents’ death anniversary and I will be an unfilial son if I do not stop by to see them. Unlike other families, I don't perform ancestral rites for them because they were pure Catholics who preached nothing but the words of God. Except I am not in love with God like they did. I am a sinner and I have disobeyed him a lot of times, but he is all forgiving, right? I parked my car at the side and walked to my Mum and Dad's grave. They were buried side by side, which made it easier for me to sit between them. Distinguishable from other days, the cemetery wasn't packed with people today. I was glad it was quiet. All I could hear was the chirping sound of the birds and the swinging of the trees. It was comforting. I stood up and took my time to wipe the dust on their graves and replace the flowers before I left. This is basically what I do every year. I am used to it now. I entered my car, threw my phone on the passenger seat, and drove out of the vicinity. Today marked the eighth year since I lost my parents in a hit-and-run accident and the culprit hasn't been found up till this moment. That is why I don't trust the f*****g messed-up law. The night was drawing in, and I was exhausted, but the last thing I wanted was sleep. I would wake up in the middle of the night with the same recurring nightmare anyway. I wish I could erase my past. I wish I were a normal person who did not suffer from insomnia, but my past has been haunting me, and it's something I hate talking about or thinking of. My mind drifted from my thoughts as I heard the blaring sound of my phone. I picked up my phone and fixed it to the dashboard mount and pressed the receive button. Blake, my best friend's face appeared on the screen. He was looking as worn out as I was. I bet he was just getting off work. “I am so sorry, Jay, I couldn't go with you to visit your parents. I had a court case, and it took longer than intended,” he apologized. With one hand on the steering wheel, I waved the other at him. “I understand, you don't have to explain, man,” I replied, holding a smile on my face. Blake and I have been friends since childhood, and he is a prosecutor. “Where are you off to? The club as usual?” he asked. I nodded my head and categorically stated, “Yeah, the club is the best place to meet a gorgeous woman who can keep me up the whole night with her mastery of techniques in bed.” Blake laughed at my statement and shook his head. “I would have loved to join you, but I need to go home. Ryenne is back,” he said. “Ryenne? Your younger sister?” I pumped, furrowing my brows in puzzlement, and he gave me a withering look. “Asking the obvious question. Of course, I am talking about my sister,” he smirked sarcastically. “It has been ten years since the last time I saw her,” I said. Ryenne was barely thirteen when she left to study in Italy. It was easier for her because her dad lives there. So many years have passed, she must have grown into a woman and not the little girl we used to tease anymore. “Right. Ten years have passed,” he acquiesced, entering his car. “Alright, dude. Let me leave you to go and have fun. We will talk tomorrow,” Blake enunciated. I bobbed my head, taking a glance at him and focusing back on the road. “My regards to Ryenne, although she must have forgotten about me,” I chuckled. “I wouldn't blame her if she had. You teased her a lot when she was young. I would want to forget your face too,” we both laughed. We spoke for a while and ended the call as I drove into the parking lot of the clubhouse and as I stepped inside, the thumping bass of music hit me like a wave. The dimly lit room pulsated with energy, filled with swirling lights and the chatter of excited voices. People danced in sync with the rhythm, their movements juicy and effortless. The air was thick with anticipation and a sense of liberation, as if everyone had left their worries at the door, and I was not left out of those people. Aside from meeting beautiful women at the club, being here brings me peace. Seeing people dance their worries away or get themselves drunk in excitement makes me happy. It gets my mind off the thoughts that disturb me the most. The only thing I would hear in the club is the sound of the music and the chattering voices of the people. Not the alarming sound of the emergency bus, the pitiful voices of the people, or the beeping sounds of the hospital machines that always ring in my ears. I navigated through the crowd, catching glimpses of cocktails being shaken, laughter echoing off the walls, and the occasional burst of cheers from a nearby game area. Like always, I went straight to the bar, ordered my favorite alcohol, Single Malt Scotch Whiskey, and within a minute, I gulped down three glasses of the whiskey as I took my time to look around for a damn goddess who would match my taste for tonight. I am no saint and I love women, and for someone like me with a high s****l drive, I see nothing wrong with that. I love having women in my bed, and I love it more when I pin them to my bed and have them beg me to f**k the decency out of them. I tapped my foot on the floor with an unimpressed look on my face as I gobbled the rest of my scotch whisky and set the glass on the table. There were a bunch of ladies, but I hadn't seen the kind of lady I wanted, not until I was almost pushed out of my seat. The moment I turned, I was enthralled to see an enchanting lady standing beside me, almost leaning on me for support. I was captivated by her petite figure. She was dressed in a glistening nude bodycon gown, exposing the mouth-watering contour of her slender waist and attractive curve. Her long wavy blonde hair was flung on her shoulder, flying alongside the cool breeze. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she smiled at the bartender and the dim light of the room reflected on her flawless skin. My eyes moved downwards, fixating on her round ass and then back up at the delicate thin straps of her dress that created a low heat in the pit of my stomach. Fuck! My head exploded with screams as she turned to look at me, her lips parting in surprise, as like she hadn't noticed me until now. I subconsciously licked my lips, my eyes lingering on her lower lip that was covered with a wet red lip gloss, and her eyes followed my movement as she stared at me with wide eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn't be leaning on you like that” Her voice sounded like a melody as she screamed over the music to be heard by me. The moment she spoke, my d**k jerked up in my boxers and all I wanted at that moment was to hear her voice once again. I was disappointed the instant she shifted away from me and her scent which filled my nostrils a few seconds ago disappeared. Thankfully, the light flashed on her face again, giving me a perfect view of how stunning she looks. Her kind of beauty could prompt me to write a poem that is suitable for just her. Fuck, f**k! She's pretty. In fact, pretty is not the right word to use for her, she is more than that. I blinked and looked away for a second. Staring at her makes me feel some weird things in my body, and it might be f*****g stupid, but I love it. “You look incredibly gorgeous, I almost lost my mind by just staring at you.” I finally found my voice after goggling lustfully at her and lost for words as if my last brain cell was short-circuiting. She smiled confidently at me, taking the seat opposite me, and I was glad she sat down. I thought she would leave after getting her drink, but she didn't. “I have heard that like a thousand times,” she answered with a glint of pride in her eyes as amusement flashed in mine. At that moment, I knew she was different. She was different from the strippers and the extroverted type of girl who is my usual, but I was drawn to her. She moved her hair to her back, giving me a perfect view of her neckline. It was just a simple action, but this was different, it made my bulge grow even bigger. I had to stylishly cover it to avoid getting caught by her. I have no plan to leave here without taking her to my VIP room, having her take off her dress, spank her hard, and f**k her mercilessly, but I don't want her to know that I am eyeing her and thinking about how good she will be in bed with her pinned underneath me. “What can I do to have your number? I would love to take a ravishing lady like you out and treat you like the queen you are,” I said, forgetting my punch lines, which always work on women. Her laughter flared in my ears, as I suddenly developed a good hearing because I could hear her clearly, even with the music trying to make my ears explode with how loud it was. “I don't give my number to strangers. Do you think you can treat me like a queen? How many ladies have you used that line for?” she asked. My eyes were on her lips again, watching her sip from her drink at the same time staring at me with a lingering smile on her face. “Honestly, I don't know how to ask ladies for things like this, they end up giving it to me without having to ask. But you just turned me down, it makes me want to chase you until I have you,” I replied. My gaze moved back to her face, she gently bobbed her head and flipped her hair once again and I grumbled. “And about treating you like a queen, I can treat you better than any man has ever treated you, as long as it's not in bed,” I replied with all honesty. It made her cough, and then followed it up with a chuckle. “Are you always this blunt?” she probed and I shrugged my shoulders. “When I need to,” I responded. “I am curious to know how you are in bed, can you tell me?” she said almost in a whisper, and I took that as a cue to move closer to her. I rolled my swivel chair and stopped when my knees came in contact with hers, creating a spark between us. I made sure she was staring at me and I didn't break eye contact with her within that moment. “Let's say I am very rough. I could pin you to my bed and make you reach your climax with just my mouth and my fingers,” I muttered. She gulped, and my eyes went down to her chest. I just realized she wasn't putting on a bra, I could see her n*****s through her fabric. Double f**k! Bemused, I briefly ran my hand on her thigh and she closed her legs. “I will walk my hand to your shoulder and rip your dress apart. That way, I will get to see your perky breasts and how hard your n*****s are. I will also be able to tell if you are putting on pants or not.” I folded my hands, smiling flirtatiously at her. Her eyes were wide as she adjusted to her seat. Fuck! The way she was staring innocently at me did things to me, to my body. “I will take off your panties to see how wet you are and massage your c**t with my index fingers to find out if you are sensitive to touch or not,” I paused, taking my time to see how her body was reacting to what I was saying. Chuckling, I relaxed my back on my chair, my eyes unable to move from her n*****s that were already poking through her dress. “I hate talking without actions, gorgeous. Why don't you find out how rough I can be and how much I can make your body throb with my touch, in bed?” I suggested, my c**k pushing against my zipper and threatening to break free from my trousers. Fuck!