Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
At first, it started out as a flame.
Much later, though?
Well, then I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from watching her eyes light with something—anything—that wasn’t blankness.
Chapter 4
When two people kiss, they create a long tube from butthole to butthole.
-Useless facts that you’ll probably share with your best friend
Hennessy
I found myself counting down the days until the next session with Mr. Tate Casey.
At first, I wasn’t sure that was what I was doing, but as I got up the day that he was supposed to show, four days after the last time he’d come to my office, I found myself looking at my closet with a different eye.
No longer was I going for clothes that said ‘professional.’
Now I was going for clothes that screamed ‘I’m sexy.’
Or at least, that’d been my intention as I stood in front of my closet.
Everything that was in my closet was so new that most of it still had tags on it.
I’d moved from the apartment my father had paid for and into my new place that I now paid for solely on my own a short three weeks prior. The moment that I had, not only had I bought a new wardrobe, but I’d also splurged on makeup and girly shit that I’d never been able to have before.
Like big hoop earrings that my father used to hate.
Those were the first things I slipped into my ear that morning.
And when I say big, these earrings were big. Like the size of an onion ring from Outback Steakhouse.
They hung so far from my ear that if I bent my head over sideways, the hoops would touch my shoulder.
I freakin’ loved them!
The next thing I found were the stockings.
I hadn’t worn this particular pair yet.
I hadn’t dared.
They were too sexy.
But as I pulled them out of my drawer, and held them up with the garters I’d bought to hold them up, I knew that today I’d be wearing them.
I sifted through my pile of lingerie, things that I’d only ever dreamed about wearing, and selected the matching pair of underwear and bra that I’d bought to go with the stockings.
They’d all been online.
When I’d found the stockings, I’d seen the ‘Customers who bought this, have also bought this’ section of the page, and from there, I’d gotten lost.
I had twenty thousand dollars that I’d had left after I’d spent most of my inheritance on a new home and an office in the middle of downtown Hostel—an inheritance I’d received from the death of my mother’s mother—and with that money I splurged.
Five hundred and sixty-nine dollars later, I had every kind of lacy lingerie that every woman dreamed of.
And I’d never once thought about wearing it.
Not until Tate had entered the picture.
Now, as I slipped the thong panties on over my hips, and turned around to examine myself in the mirror, I wondered if a man could tell a woman was wearing a thong through a skirt.
Then, as I looked at myself in the mirror, the same monster that sounded exactly like my father started speaking in my head.
Only sluts dress like this.
High heels are for girls that plan on working their vaginas for a living.
Short skirts scream for a man to rape you.
Yes, that last one was actually said by him, in the middle of a freakin’ church picnic, when I was on the cusp of womanhood.
I’d come outside, a medium length skirt on that was flowy and wispy around my knees, and my father had seen me. Then he’d flipped a freakin’ switch, and had gone from that loving man that everyone loved, to the father and man that only I knew.
It’d been the one and only time he’d lost it in front of his congregation, and come to think about it, I remember seeing Tate there for that one. His mother had forced him to come, I remembered, and he’d been off in a corner, standing under the shade of a tree while all the other teenagers played Frisbee.
I hated Frisbee.
In fact, I’d always hated everything that ever had to do with anything remotely involving me getting sweaty.
So I’d gone to the tree, too. I hadn’t seen him until I was nearly standing right next to him.
***
The heat of the day was enough to cause a sheen of sweat to form along my spine from the moment I stepped out of the back door of the church.
I looked down at my skirt, wondering if it’d upset my father that I was wearing it.
It was white, flowy, and whispered around my knees each time I took a step. Although it looked transparent, it really wasn’t thanks to the white slip that was sewn inside. Not to mention I was wearing black bicycle shorts, so just in case I sat down and wasn’t crossing my legs, then I wouldn’t be showing anything off.