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“What Was Her Name?” (Short Story).

November 10, 2018

cropped-12301412301.jpg“When a writer remembers your name you can never die” He had read that somewhere.

But the truth of the matter was he did remember their names. He remembered them because he enjoyed remembering them and what was wrong with that? And he always managed to fall in love or great fondness for them all. He once told someone he was a romantics with a fairly good working knowledge of handcuffs; the other person didn’t get the joke. He didn’t bother explaining the point of his statement to the puzzled look of the  older fellow who’s book he was signing.

“What are you thinking so hard?” So asked the woman at the bathroom door with the dark red towel wrapped around her chest, “You have a hard look or something?” Those looks always bothered her.

He looked up from his thoughts from the side of the bed he was sitting on, “I found an old photo,” He held up the old tattered picture, “Her name was Faye. I new her when I lived on Hawaii a long time ago…” He returned to the picture, “She was Japanese…”

She spoke up, “I would love to see Hawaii…” The young woman with the bath towel wrapped around her slight frame leaned against the door frame, “I’ve been to New York a few times with a client a few times last year. Never once to Hawaii. But then again it was short trips to New York and playing my part…” The bastard never let her out of the hotel room unless he was with her. Control freak!

He smiled at the pretty girl with the wet brunette hair, “A few days in New York is all about I can handle last trip….” Though visiting the Natural History Museum was fun. It was a cold November if he remembered correctly.

“Well, the client kept calling me the wrong name the entire time…” She didn’t smile at the memory, “I think he was doing it on purpose anyway.” Forces a dry laugh, “Lawyers are so stuck up it’s not even funny.”

Amused with the girl, “Well, good thing I am not a lawyer.”

A real smile crosses her face, “So am I, so am I….so is my poor butt…” She looked away at that and it was obvious she wished she hadn’t said it, “Sorry, no personal stuff, sorry.”

He returned to the old photo he had found in his travel bag’s too many pockets, “Faye was thirteen at that time, I think I had just turned fourteen. As I said she was Japanese. Explains my love of Japan and the whole place.” He studied the picture he had taken when in a photography class with the girl. She was all smiles and dark brown hair looking pleased with the attention.

“Ever get there?”

“Not yet. Maybe next year.” He shoved the photo into the top pocket of the dark red and black flannel shirt he was wearing, “I could have gone last year but I simply never got around to it. Faye was every inch the first girl I can remember realizing I liked girls for certain.”

“Where there actual doubts on that?”

Laughing, “No, I doubt it but Faye certainly sealed the deal on what I liked and didn’t like. I was attending the Honolulu Junior Academy, it was a Christian school if I remember correctly….” Amused at something he remembered, “I think I knew it for certain when they had the for some reason some of the kids doing a show and there was Faye doing a hula dance. I watched every movement of that dance and the girl doing that dance. I can still see her after what I think has been thirty, no wait, no, forty odd years…has it been that long…” He barely remembered what he was like at fourteen; well, apparently he liked girls was certain.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t even born yet, not sure even my parents where my parent’s yet…”

He looked at her trying to not smile, “Very funny, I’m not that old.”


He ignored her with a smile, “Well, I remember that girl and her friend Lisa…”

“Also Japanese?”

“No, Lisa was a blonde, blue eyed girl of also thirteen if I remember correctly. I remember the layout of the school as if it was yesterday with the huge church sitting in the front of the other buildings surrounded by all that makes Hawaii beautiful.” The main building actually looked much older than the school buildings and looked more like a house than a building; maybe it had been a house?

“Well, I’d love to see Hawaii.”

“It’s worth seeing despite all the tourists clogging up the place. Maybe next year…”

Victoria remained silent.

“It’s not like I can’t afford to go now anyway. May even stop off and see if the school is still there.”

“And see if Faye is still there?”

“Her ghost maybe…” He looked at her with a smile, “Well, I wouldn’t mind going back in time to see her again and wonder what came of her and Lisa…”

She laughed a bit, “Do you remember all their names? Do you remember all the girls of your life or just a few?” She again adjusted the towel around her chest, “You seem to speak of them quit fondly.”

“What’s the point of knowing them if I don’t at least remember their names, Victoria.” Adding with a look, “It’s a habit of being a writer I guess and even back then I knew what I wanted to do with my life.” He looked at the girl with a look that said much about what he liked about her, “I think I was convinced I liked writing in Mr. Deets class, he taught English and a creative writing class. I really liked his class. I simply found the subject of creating ideas and observations into stories too hard to resist. I can still see him as well. Medium height, slightly balding with wire-rimmed glasses. He made it interesting, he certainly made it interesting for me…he created the writer I am today, well, at least pushed me in that direction.” He could see the girl thinking of something to say. He had  his thoughts on the girl in the hotel room with him as he was in Las Vegas for a couple of days to do a book signing. “And there was Mrs. Bell in the Social Studies class who got me interested in, well, the rest of the world. Nice lady as I remember her…”

“I was bored in school.” Victoria spoke up feeling out of place, “Never had great grades let alone good ones. I was too busy doing other stuff…” She again adjusted the towel, “I just never liked school.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly like school, Victoria, I simply found subjects to like. Reading I always liked, so writing came naturally to me.”

“So, you became a writer?”

“I simply found something I liked to do.”

Amused and getting tired of tugging at the towel she actually wouldn’t have minded letting simply fall to the ground; that was one reason she was there wasn’t it? “Well, you writer’s are an interesting bunch of clients…” The smile was soft, wondering if he wanted her naked  or to simply stand there and hide her best parts. And damn it they were some of her best parts and they were real! This guy never seemed to treat her as the escort she was but more like someone he simply liked having with him. Well, it was less painful on the ass she thought if this was all the guy wanted. Some guys simply wanted to fuck you till you screamed and begged them to stop and some simply wanted you around was her theory. Victoria liked the latter and this guy was certainly that. Though he had kissed her of course and that was pleasant and better than some damn lawyer shoving his entire damn tongue down her throat! What an asshole. And he did hold her hand nicely as they walked to the buffet at the Monte Carlo. And he did buy her a pair of cool looking sandals unlike that damn lawyer who bought her nothing that was over ten bucks and in New York that meant very little. “When are we going to this book signing?”

He looked at his cell phone time, “We still have a couple of hours before we need to get there.”

“Casual clothes I hope?”

Laughing, “It’s a bookstore, Victoria, wear what you want.”

“My birthday suit?” She smiled back holding out her arms hoping the towel would fall down; but it didn’t. Damn towel!

Smiling of course, “Well, that would be interesting but in this town would anyone notice another pretty girl walking around naked?”

She had to admit no probably not but she didn’t want to dampen his mood, “As a kid I loved books. I still even remember the first book I liked…”

He looked at her and knew what she was thinking, “What book?”

Shyly, “Um, Anne Of Green Gables.”

“Ah, never read it. My sister might have…”

“What’s her name?”

“Kalea.” Looking in the bag on the bed for something, giving up, “I really need to clean this thing out, “She was born in Hawaii therefore her name. It’s Hawaiian for joy, happiness. She’s a the smiling baby of the family…she’s a veterinarian….” He spoke of his sister fondly, “Kalea has done well with her life…” Again looking in the duffel bag, frowning, “Would have sworn I brought that book…”

“What book?”

“Oh, when I get back I have a history group meeting at Barnes-Noble and we are reading on the Tudors…”

“The Tudors?” She sounded like a little girl uncertain of the word, “Who? What?” Adding as if it might soften her ignorance she thought, “Not much into history.”

“Henry the Eight of England.” He could see the girl’s lack of any knowledge of the subject and it was painful for her he thought. “He was the king of England and we will be discussing his secret wars with those he felt were against him and his throne…” He could see the girl trying to look interested or at least follow along his explanation, “Well, it’s a group that meets every fourth Wednesday of the month. Should be interesting a subject.”

She smiled anyway, what else could she do? She had dropped out of school midway through her junior year. Happens when your boyfriend gets you pregnant and then one has a miscarriage anyway and simply don’t go back to school and the boyfriend finds someone else not pregnant! Then realizing the only real property worth anything is your young girl body in strip clubs. What a nightmare that mess was and disgusting in every way possible. But it paid the bills.

He felt for the girl who looked ashamed of something, “I had a good history teacher which helped me get into the subject. Mr. Rosenberg was my sophmore year in high school teacher…” He was going to try at least to get her to talk a little more than she was, “He taught American history. He made it interesting and his assignments were a good draw for me. I had no real interests in school on any serious level and though I still wanted to write but the creative writing teacher I had, a Mrs. Blue,  had all the ability to make it interesting as much as math interested me; which it doesn’t. She was actually boring, seemed more interested in making sure that every rule of writing was followed to the point that a few of her students feared writing all together let alone a sentence in dread that one of her precious rules had been left out of the assignment…”

“I had a math teacher like that, I got the problems correct but I didn’t show every little thing in my work to get to the problem. I gave up I guess…I liked math until that class.” Victoria tried a slight smile, “Sounds like my teacher. I got the problems right, I was good at math. I even liked math which was why I liked it…”

“Yes, sadly a bad teacher is dangerous.” Adding with a thought, “She simply couldn’t imagine writing without every rule being followed. And we had girl who simply ignored her rules and kept on writing poetry how she wanted….”

“Her name? As you seem to remember them so well.”

He had to laugh, “Her name was Charlie of all names, but that was her name. She told the teacher that the rules of creative writing should allow creativity not put someone in a straight jacket where everything sounds like a dictionary.”

“What happened to her?”

“Charlie, she became a poet and has published a few books of poetry…so much for the rules of creative writing.”

“What was this Charlie like when not breaking the rules?”

He had to smile, “All red hair with blue eyes daring anyone to tell her she was wrong about writing. And she was quit friendly once you got passed the attitude…”

“Don’t they all have that attitude?”

“Well, she did, but underneath that fiery mane of hair was a pretty nice girl…” He studied the girl with the slight look in her eyes he knew too well, “Charlie wasn’t her actual name I would discover one day, it was Charlotte and she hated that name so she changed it to Charlie….” With a smile, “Certainly the most attractive Charlie I ever met.”

“You remember them all don’t you?”

“Only the one’s worth remembering I guess.”

“So, she’s a writer to, huh?”

“Last time I ran into her in Chicago at a book signing.”

“You writer’s stick together don’t you.” She laughed again as she again adjusted the damn towel; just let it drop Victoria, just let it drop. Let’m see you in all your Victorian glory. Why was he not making sexual demands on her she wanted to ask. She had great tits and she knew that much of her value to men.

He was talking, “….I really should take a vacation to Hawaii. It has been years since I was there last. It’s a great place for scenery but I find the tourists unbearable. Maybe just visit the Big Island of Hawaii..”

Without thinking about it, “Can I come.”

He looked at the girl with the deep brown eyes reading her thoughts, “You’d enjoy it but it would be a vacation not a, well, paid one for you…” He regretted saying it, “Sorry, not what…”

Hurt but spoke up, “So, was Faye your first love? Most Japanese girls are quit appealing to the male sexual ego of the Japanese school girl fantasy…”

“You practice that line?”

Smiling, “Yes, yes I have.” Adding, “And it’s accurate.”

“Won’t argue that point with you.”

“And you shouldn’t.” The look said it all, “So, was Faye was your first?”

He liked this girl and her attempt at small talk without be too nosy; unlike the last girl who wouldn’t shut up! “Most are quit cute and pretty in their school girl uniforms as that is the selling point when it comes to, well, porn. But I never saw Miss. Faye in any school uniforms as the school didn’t have one….in fact I don’t ever remember her wearing shorts at school…” He wasn’t sure how far he wanted to go with the conversation or if the girl even cared. “I have only encountered Japanese girls while my dad was stationed at Pearl Harbor…” He could see her trying to follow along. What he wished was that damn towel would fall from her body and she could look less uncomfortable deciding whether to let it fall or not. “Not sure I would consider Faye my first….”

Victoria finally left her place at the door frame and walked toward the small chair with her duffel bag was next to the chair; the towel finally let go of her body as she simply gave up trying to hold unto the dumb thing as if it was protecting her from the obvious reasons she was there in the first place. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen her butt ass naked and the smile he gave her was enough to know he liked what he saw. What wasn’t there not to like about the twenty-four year old anyway? Still on the same subject as she sat down and waited a bit before going through her bag to get some clothes on; the room was a little cold and her skin was feeling it’s prickly coldness, “So, Faye may or may not have been the first of your many conquests? So, who was?” She liked the way he was studying her; sometimes a girl just knows she’s being admired, but there was another look in his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“I was admiring the person sitting naked in the room, what’s that scar on your thigh from?”

Looking down at her left thigh and the long faint looking scar, with a slight smile, “Oh, that, I was playing hockey and got sliced pretty bad by some other player with a attitude problem…”

“Hockey? College hockey? And it looks like it was a painful injury.”

Liking his sympathy, “Ya, U of M. I played a bit, never on the starting team. And it was painful. The other girl did it on purpose I am convinced…” Reaching down for the dark blue underwear in the bag and slipping it on but not too quickly; he looked at her as if he wanted to take her as she was and she of course would have allowed it; but he didn’t move but he seemed to like her movements of getting dressed, looking at her thighs, “I hate my thighs though, I use to run but I have not done it in a while…” Wiggling a bit for effect and to get her underwear on, “I stopped running a few months ago, I shouldn’t have I suppose…” She whacked her legs for effect, “But, they still attract attention I suppose…”

He knew her point, “I am not complaining, Victoria.”

She continued to smile as she could see him sizing up her tits, not her best feature but they did the job, “Thanks, but I know what I look like in the mirror…I just don’t have pencil thin legs…” She shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not a barbie doll shaped girl, I was a tomboy as a kid, I suppose I still am in some regards…” Reaching for her blue socks, “I should be taking better care of the things that have gotten me where I am right now, my tits and ass have gotten me pretty far…” She took notice that he really didn’t react to these comments, “To be honest I dropped out of school…” It was the look he was giving her as she pulled up on her knee high socks, “What? Never seen a girl put socks on?” Actually she knew that look, it was turning him on for some reason and maybe it was a good thing at the moment? “Their just plain dark blue socks against soft legs…”

He laughed, “Yes, but writer’s never seem to look at things as if their normal even when a girl is putting on her socks while sitting on a chair in her underwear….we need a painter to paint that picture…”

“Or a photographer?” Pleased with the comment, “I took art history once. I liked it. I tried to take up paining in a class and it was awful. I would have made a better model for them to paint…I have a models ability to stand still and not move unless commanded to do so…”

“You and Camille Pissaro.” He had questions about her statements but choice to simply let her say what she wanted. If she had a life she didn’t want to discuss, well, that was her right to make up stuff to cover up her actual life. “Yes, I could see you being his model for one of his paintings.”

She frowned, “I suppose I should know that name…I didn’t do well in the class….” She looked sadly away and picked up the other sock, “Look, another blue one.”

Noting her mood, “Do you need anything from the store? I saw a Target we could go to if you need some other clothes…”

The sock went on without comment, reaching down and removing the light red tank top, “I don’t think so, I usually pack prepared for where I am going…”

“Yes, but do you want anything new?” Adding as he noting her change of mood, “It’s on me of course.”

Looking at him wondering if he ever was going to make a move, “Sure. I’m an easy girl to buy for let alone please,” Standing up with effect, “Ta da!”

“Looks good.”

Frowning with a amused look, “I’m not wearing pants. But thank you.”

“Well, Victoria, I am not changing my mind….”

Trying to be funny as she bent over and rummaged in her bag for her cut-offs, “Well, you’re the guy paying me to be here, so as long as you are pleased…” She could feel his eyes on her butt; it was one of her better features someone once told her as he grabbed it and bent her over the table. That was the damn lawyers idea of role playing. No imagination at all and certainly no patience. It wasn’t a damn race she wanted to scream between gritting her teeth and pretending to enjoy it a little bit for his amusement; she hated it but it paid the rent that week. And he kept calling her as damn whore the entire time. She wondered if he was married and was simply taking his frustration and anger out on her poor butt. Three days of being the private sex toy to a lawyer was no fun.

He observed all her movements and it was difficult to not get up and simply have her as she was. She certainly appealed to his sex. Why wasn’t he making demands on her services as that was one of them he was paying for. She was here because he was paying her to be here and he had barely touched the girl with the long brunette hair and soft brown eyes. He of course knew part of the answer was that he simply had not the mind to do anything until the today’s book signing was done and over with. This was his second book and it was harder to do these signings now than the first one.

The voice came to him as he hadn’t realized he had been staring at her with a look, “You’re looking at me funny and I don’t mean in a funny funny way. You drift off a lot into that far away look…” She was standing there holding her pants in front of her legs as if trying to hide from him, “I’ve seen that look before and the night didn’t go well for me…” Dam lawyer!

He smiled softly, “No, no, I just have a lot on my mind about this signing. I never like these things as much as some writers do….and I certainly can’t focus on much else right now….” Adding with a smile, “Certainly not on a pretty girl barely dressed in my hotel room…”

“Okay, but still, I don’t like that look.” Bluntly, “It scars me sometimes the way you guys look at me and I am already here and I still get punched…”

Troubled by her statement, “I have no intention of hurting you let alone punching you, Victoria…” Hoping it calmed her, “I just have a lot on my mind. You’re a pleasant distraction.” She seemed to relax, “Never be a writer, Victoria. We are strange creatures without the ability to have normal lives let alone relationships with people. We see everything as a story idea and people are just plot points or characters for the next story…and we try to be part of life while trying to write about it at a distance….We remember all out Muses on some level…”

“Like your girl Faye?”

“I remember her because she left an impression for some reason. I remember a typical looking thirteen year old girl with Japanese features with long dark brown hair and those eyes…I remember the eyes….” He reached down this time and put his sneakers on, “I’m sure I have romantisized the whole memory and I make no writer’s apology for doing so because writer’s don’t apologize for remembering the Muses of his life…”

She smiled at something.

“What are you smiling about?”



“Hey, let me have my secrets.”

Amused by the girl as always, “Okay, keep your secrets.”

Victoria pulled on the jeans, “Can we go eat something before we go shopping. I am hungry as always lately…I love the buffets in this town.”

Standing up, “They do make good food in these hotels.”

She sat back down and again rummaged through her bag, talking to herself, “I know I brought a brush with me. I think I did, didn’t I?” Looking at him, “I know I put one in here…”

“I can buy you a new one and some new clothes if you want…”

Looking up at him from the chair, “It’s in here….maybe new clothes would be nice.” She liked the way he was looking at her. It was a look she liked to see men have for her. She could handle desire; desire most of the times was gentle and loving. Lust was another story as that generally involved pain and doing things she really didn’t like to do even when being paid. She liked this client.

He could watch her all day he thought and he pretty much was going to until the damn book signing was over with. He could even smell the shampoo she had obviously used; strawberry was a wonderful aroma coming from the soft skin of a girl. His last novel, ‘The Last Dragon.’ had done well and he had made some good money. That first novel took five years to write and he was proud of the final product. Five too long bloody years of writing! The second book, ‘The Dragon’s Children.’ took two years and he was never happy with it; he still wasn’t happy with it but the book publisher said it was good and stop worrying about it. He couldn’t stop worrying about it even as he saw that it was doing fine. The girl made a comment to herself about the damn brush again as she sat down and placed the bag on her lap,

“It’s in here.”

He looked about the medium sized hotel room. He had gotten a room a few blocks off the main strip of the real expensive hotels. It was a typical hotel room and wasn’t worth noting anything particular about it to make it worth remembering. He was of course distracting himself from thinking about the upcoming book signing. He had been in Las Vegas some twenty odd years ago. He didn’t like it too much as he was there to waste time. He had thought of writing a story about that brief few years of exile in Sin City but he could never see anything good material wise could or would come of it; maybe a short story? Maybe nothing at all?

“Yes, found it, how did it get wedged in there….” She waved the brush at him happily and started brushing her long brunette hair that fell to the middle of her back, and again she noted his look. “What? Just brushing the hair…”

“What’s the longest your hair has been?” Odd things fascinated him; Faye had such long hair.

“I’ve had it as long as actually touching my butt, but it’s usually in a pony tail…” Noting the smile, “What now, what is it with that smile? It bothers me for some reason…”

Laughing, “Sorry again, I was simply thinking about the fact that the pony tail on a girl is so alluring…” He could see the slight smile in her eyes, “I wrote a short story once about the magical properties of a pony tail and it’s power….”

“Magical powers my ass, men just like to pull on it and some of you pull awfully hard as if you want to rip my hair from my head. Nothing magical about it, it’s there and you guys like to play with it and pull on it…”

“Yes, probably true. There is something in the way it sways and swooshes back and forth with the movement of the girl walking. Some women just have that walk that needs a pony tail to add to it’s mystery….”

Laughing at him, “You men are something, it’s there so you pull on it and it’s a dominate thing anyway….but I know some girls like it.”

“I don’t doubt there is truth to that, Victoria. But you women keep put them in those things and well, it’s like a fishing line in the water and we guys are the fish….”

“You just like to pull on it and real hard sometimes and it hurts you know if you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s attached to our heads…” Looking around the duffel bag and chair, “Where are my new sandals?”

“I think you took them into the bathroom with you.”

Thinking about getting up, her beat sneakers sat next to the chair, “Just admit you like to pull on it and being a writer has nothing to do with it…It’s a control thing.”

Holding up his hands, “I surrender, I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Oh, your not a problem….so, you didn’t really answer about Faye, was she even close to your first? Why do you remember her at all if she wasn’t your first?” Reaching for the old sneakers, “I mean she was too young for much of a relationship…”

“Faye was just a simple young boys attraction to a pretty girl, Victoria….”

Interrupted, “You have any guy friends, you don’t talk about any guys you know…”

“I have a few.” Having a feeling where this was going, but he walked to the window and looked outside, mostly to himself, “Another sunny day in Las Vegas where nothing changes but the people…” He could see the New York, New York hotel; the Luxor and it’s sinking pyramid was visible as well. Maybe next time he would get a room at the Rio; maybe. He liked the Rio.

From behind him with a tone, “Well, name one guy friend.”

He smiled as he watched the traffic go by, “Tim.” Looking at the girl with the smiling brown eyes and slowly breathing up and down chest. She was simply pretty but that would have wait till after the book signing. Damn book signing. The last girl even talked too much during the fun stuff at the Rio. A bridle would have been appreciated at the time but that was back in the apartment in St. Paul, Minnesota.

“He is?”

He was going to like this reaction, “My rabbi actually.” He could hear her reaction.

“Your rabbi? You’re Jewish?”

Turning around and trying to not smile too much at the girl who looked back puzzled, “Well, yes, I am not observant like Tim, but I am Jewish. My family isn’t exactly pushy about it….”

She stood up with a look, “How do you know this rabbi?”

She was studying him and he knew it, “He’s been a friend of mine since childhood, Victoria. Tim also wanted to be a rabbi, well, a teacher anyway, and well, he became a rabbi as well….”

“And you?”

“I suppose after being in Mr. Deets class, always a writer.”

She was still looking at him closely, “Well, I have met very few Jewish people in my line of work, so it’s nice to met you…” She shook his hand, “You do look Jewish I guess…”


“Where does he live this Rabbi Tim of yours?”

“Here actually. It’s one of the few reasons I agreed to this particular book signing.”

“You think he’ll show up, it’s Friday you know…”

“Sabbath doesn’t start till evening, Victoria.”

“But you think he will come?”


Still somewhat puzzled thought Jeff she asked another question, “When did you know you were Jewish?”

“The day I was born, Victoria.” He felt self-conscious just standing there with Victoria standing in front of him as if waiting for him to do something; maybe she was? Maybe she really was waiting for him to just even kiss her. She looked so damn soft and he did need a break from thinking, no, no, over-thinking the book signing.

“I see.” She smiled, walked to the bed, and flopped unto her back, “So, what are we doing after the signing?” Looking up at him with a look and knowing that look he was giving her, “We have time you know….”

“Tim invited me to services later today,” Standing over her as she lay in the bed looking soft, warm and amused by his own puzzled, uncertain look he was sure he had, “You are invited to come.”

The sad but soft smile came, “I’m not sure I would be very welcomed…”

He bent over and rested his hands on her two bare thighs, “You’re with me so you are welcome to come, Victoria….” His fingers lightly dug into the warm soft flesh, “You’re my guest, Tim wont care all that much anyway….” He loved the feel of her skin against his hands.

She softly smiled as he looked down on her with that look she knew fairly well, she could read his thoughts in his stressed eyes, and if he wanted her she wouldn’t resist anyway. This was her job she told herself. Her damn job! She was being paid to be there! She closed her eyes and hoped it wasn’t too bad this time though she suspecting he would be gentle with her but still she felt sick to her stomach; he was slowly removing her pants; she lay still, not resisting. Well, he did say he was going to buy her some new clothes; so there was that benefit. He was softly, slowly rubbing her thighs and kissing them; that was new. She felt her legs being spread; she didn’t resist. What she wanted was for him to take away how crappy she actually felt about everything and make her feel good for once in her damn life! Just once she wanted to feel good some part of her would scream silently every time! But maybe he would remember her and write about her; but she wasn’t worth remembering another part of her replied. He was kissing her stomach softly, touching her slowly, pleasantly as if it mattered she was under him. She simply wanted to be remembered was her last thought; just remember my damn name!

He was going to be late to the book signing.


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  1. Great story!

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