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The Darkness of Candy's Room

Date: 1/13/2016, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: gilrenard, Rating: 23, Source: LushStories

what she had unwittingly revealed to him. She stopped moving and stared hard in to his cold, dark eyes, and then cautiously edged her lips closer to his. Waiting and watching if he would turn away or tell her to stop. He slid one hand over her bare breast. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed it, as her lips gently brushed against his. She pressed her mouth harder against his and parted her lips. She tasted like cherries in his mouth. She gasped when she slid his hand in between her spread legs and rubbed it over her moist slit. He bit her lip and softly growled, "Whore." She shivered and nodded her head, "Make me cum, please," she desperately pleaded. She released his hand, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He forced two fingers inside her and rubbed her clit with his thumb. She rocked her hips to the rhythm of his thumb. Her arms tightened around his neck as her body shook and a long, low moan escaped from deep inside her. She held on tightly, long after she came and the song was over. Slowly, she released her grip and slid off his lap. "Twenty dollars," she coldly informed him as she pulled her bra back down over her breasts. He took a hundred dollar bill from his shirt pocket and placed it on the small, round table that was bolted to the dirty floor. He stood up and walked passed her in silence. When he reached the door he stopped and said, "Your address, give it to me." She waited a long time before she warned him, "You're going to hurt me, and ... I'm going to hurt you." "Your address, whore," he demanded. She lowered her head, hesitated and finally surrendered, "89 Raimer Avenue, apartment 1208." He was familiar with the area; it was rundown, sordid and seedy. The last place on Earth someone as delicate as her should be. **** He stepped out of the elevator and made the two lefts he had made so many times before. He had a key to her door, but he knew it would be unlocked. It always was. He turned the tarnished, peeling brass knob and slowly pushed the door open. A cold shiver shot through him. It was eerie how everything looked black and white in her apartment. Almost as if colors ceased to exist, as soon as he stepped through her door. The rustle of her bed sheets greeted him. She got up from her bed and made her way to him. She was high again. Heroin Chic, she called it. The dark circles under her eyes jumped out at you, against the contrast of her perfect porcelain skin. She had told him that her customers called her a junkie, and that she was popular. They needed her to be a junkie, so that they could feel better about themselves, and that she felt sorry for them, for needing her in that way. She slowly walked towards him, a half smile on her pale, red lips, and extended her right arm. She had cut herself again. The thin line on her slender arm looked blacker than black, against her ghostly skin in the dimly lit apartment. " This is the last time I use. " " I don't care ." He took a step to his left, to head to her ...