Chapter 1
Juanita's POV:
“I got it, I got it, I got it!”
My screams of joy echoed rapidly within the cybercafé, but the looks of disgust that were instantly directed at me by other customers prompted me to seal my lips and conceal my excitement and celebratory noises.
I had just gotten an appointment letter, via mail, from Danvers Tech, the biggest tech manufacturer in the country, to resume work the next day as the personal assistant to the CEO. Words could not describe how elated I felt, not just because I had gotten the job, but because it had come at a time when I desperately needed it.
I was barely scraping by; the electricity at my apartment had been cut off, and all my gadgets seemed to have connived to develop faults at the same time, which was why I couldn't check my mail from my phone or home PC. Just today, I was fired from my babysitting job because the 4-year-old I was caring for had begun to have scary nightmares of me. Incredulous. I'd come in here, hopeful, knowing that if the mail didn't bear the message I was expecting to see, I'd surely break down.
Using a computer here cost me a small portion of my overall savings, but for the news that I'd gotten a job that came with a company apartment and a monthly salary of $27,000, it was well worth it. My first instinct was then to break this news to Robin, my boyfriend, who'd been a lot of help to me during my distressing time. Getting out of the cybercafé, I immediately hailed a cab.
“Where to, miss?” The driver asked.
“33rd Street. Drop me off just before the intersection,” was my reply.
And so we began to move.
But, upon arrival at Robin's apartment, something felt immensely off: the lights were on and the door was unlocked; it wasn't untypical of Robin to be home by 12pm, seeing as he was a bus driver who alternated between shifts, but he never left his door unlocked.
Something wasn't right, and as soon as I stepped into the apartment, I discovered - to my dismay - what was going on: Robin was cheating on me, having s*x with another woman. But not just any woman, though... My best friend, Xana.
Robin’s apartment was structured such that if one came in through the front door, you would have to walk through a dark, short passage - which had no provision or outlet for a lightbulb - to get to the living room area, and when the living room lights were switched on, it was difficult for someone in the living room to see who was in the passage until they came through. So it was in this passage area that I stood, hidden by the shadows and stunned to my bones, as I watched Robin, the man I loved with every fiber of my being and who I knew I would do anything for, plow through the woman who I had called my best friend for the past 7 years.
I stood, transfixed, watching them and feeling invisible, as though I had meant nothing to both of them. And the hurtful part was that they were enjoying it.
“Robin, Robin, Robin!!” Xana, a slender blonde, screamed with pleasure.
“You asked for it, Xana, you asked for it. All the times you'd been coming over on the pretext of wanting to say ‘hello,’ dressed in skimpy clothing, enough to keep you clothed, but allowing me to see your tits... You asked for it. You... Urrghhh, f**k!”
All the dirty talk had been going on as Robin had her pinned to his couch, the same one he usually pinned me against, and drove into her from behind. I could hear the clap-clap sound of skin slapping hard against skin, and from what I could see, they were both about to come.
Watching Robin vibrate like an epileptic patient as he shamelessly spilled into Xana and seeing the disgusting look of satisfaction on his face afterwards felt like watching a horror movie alone in a cinema while being strapped to a seat in the front row. Up until this point, they didn't know they were being watched, so I decided to announce my presence.
“Hey, Robin, hey Xana,” I said calmly, despite the tumultuous thoughts that were running wild in my head.
He spun around, alarmed, recognizing my voice, and put his hands over his mouth.
“Oh, s**t, honey, this is not what you...”
I raised my left hand as a gesture of “Don't,” and the first tear escaped from my right eye.
“Robin... why?” This was all I could say.
I looked at him, speechless and flustered, with his d**k - which dangled in front of him - now going limp and his bare body, which had once fascinated me, now disgusting me.
“And, you...” I said, turning to Xana, but she didn't even care that I was hurt or that I was even there. She was gently putting on her clothes, unconcerned with the relationship she'd just ruined by spreading her legs. All the years of friendship, thrown down the drain. She knew how much I loved Robin, how much I'd loved her, and yet she'd done this and had the gall to be so unapologetic about it.
Then I looked back to Robin, and he was still speechless. His silence had told me all I needed to know.
“And to think that I was going to come and celebrate my new job with you,” I said, shaking my head, “I guess... I guess that's a phase of my life you're not supposed to be a part of.”
And with that, I turned around and walked out of the apartment.
I didn’t know where I was going or what I was going to do there, but I just began to move, walking briskly, spurred on by my broken heart, and running away from the ones who had inflicted this damage on me. Would I heal? I could not tell, but I knew, for sure, that I had to get away and go somewhere... anywhere.
Joachim's POV:
Naked girls, champagne, and loud music; my Achilles' heel.
Arriving at the nightclub area of Luxuria Hotel, where I was lodged - not because I didn't have a house but because I was trying to escape family drama and because the wild nightlife intrigued me more - I subconsciously began to smile because I was seeing the things that made me happy: naked women's asses and titties. Lots of it.
I stood at the entrance, taking it all in, and I was about to do my usual routine of finding a table and buying drinks for as many women as I could find when my eye caught something. Or, rather, someone: a young, thick woman, 26 at most, sitting at the counter with her back to the dancefloor and drinking shot after shot of tequila. What caught my eye was not her curves but rather the fact that she had clothes on. And I wanted to take them off…
Instantly, I moved towards her.
“Someone looks upset,” I said as soon as I was within earshot, and then I waited for her reaction.
I was expecting something like ‘go away’ or ‘I’m with someone,’ but instead, she looked at me, raising her head slowly, and I was taken aback to see that, although she looked drunk as hell, she was shedding tears.
“M-m-miss, are you okay?” I asked.
She shook her head vehemently, clearly not herself, and cried even more.
Continuing based on pure instinct, I asked:
“W-would you like me to take you home?”
And she nodded assuredly.
“Do you speak English?” I asked. She nodded again.
“So... I'll take you home, but I need to know, what's your name?”
After stuttering and muttering a few incomprehensible words, she finally said,
“Juanita.”
Although it wasn't in my nature to be “Mr. Nice Guy,” this woman felt different from all the others who I'd encountered, so I was determined to take her home. But when I held her hand and led her outside, with her wobbly legs, she was too incoherent to state where she lived, her answer to ‘What's your address?’
“On the other side of the shore... Through the valley of the shadow of... Of the shadow of... Tears,” she said between hiccups.
This was a waste of time, and it was late, so I decided to take her to my hotel room. She'd pass the night there, and tomorrow, she should be stable enough to go home. Sweeping her off her feet, I took her to my room. On the way, the hotel security saw me, and although it was weird to them - me carrying a stoned lady to my room - they let it slide because, after all, I was Joachim Danvers.
We arrived at my hotel room, and immediately I laid her on the bed. My natural, predatory instincts were to take her right there, peel her top off her, and suck on her t**s before relieving her of her leggings and driving my c**k deep into her. She was knocked out so she wouldn't even know it, but there was something about her that was preventing me from implementing the thoughts I was having in my head. Something innocent and pure... Try as I might, I couldn't get hard.
So I decided to do... something else. Something that would serve as proper entertainment to me later on.
