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I glance in the rear-view. The eyes staring back burn wildly like a mad dog. I smile as memories from the dinner return. Fuck, she turned me on so much I had a constant erection the whole time. So hard it was painful. Everything she did excited me. Every breath she took, every move, every flinch, every flick of her hair. I loved everything. The way she spoke—that sweet sultry voice with the south London accent. Jesus, I loved every word she uttered, her unique enunciations, her obvious intellect. Her elegance, her grace, her empathy, her smell, her realness, her love for her family. She is perfection personified, and I cannot, will not let her go.
My mind returns to those lips—so hot they made my balls ache at the thought of what they could do. Her skin, so soft looking, so delectably smooth. All I wanted was to taste it, run my tongue all over it.
I have got to see her again.
Biting one knuckle, I once more reminisce about the events of earlier in the evening. The moment my mother introduced Jessica as the daughter of Douglas Winters, I was instantly suspicious. Beatrix suspects I’m telepathic (I’m not). She thinks I can read her mind, but this wasn’t the case. I merely made a couple of educated guesses based on the information that was at my disposal. First and foremost, there was no way in hell anyone that attractive could be related to that old scoundrel Douglas. Slimy as a politician, I was certain his dirty criminal genes could never have produced such an ethereal being as Jessica. Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, but she also has an inner quality of goodness that no daughter of Douglas would ever possess.
Secondly, and this was the clincher, I overheard my mother speaking to her lawyer on the phone about a Non-Disclosure Agreement. Putting two and two together, I knew that something was up. Beatrix’s plans and schemes usually have a way of backfiring, but on this occasion, I’ve got to hand it to her. When it comes to women, she’s got impeccable taste. If you could draw a picture of my perfect girl, Jessica would be it.
And she’s a virgin. Fuck, that information was too much to handle. Almost sent me over the edge. Someone that beautiful, that sophisticated. How could she still be a virgin? The thought that I might be the first man to taste the sweetness of that body made me almost sick with lust.
My eyes shoot down to my crotch.Shit, I’m getting an erection again…
Gritting my teeth, I beg my dick to cool off. To distract myself, my mind drifts again to earlier in the evening. At first, I had pretended to be outraged by the idea of Beatrix hiring me a prostitute for my birthday. I made out I was shocked, but the truth is, this is not the first time she’s pulled a stunt like this. Jessica is merely the latest in a long line of call girls my mother has brought to the house, but I declined every single one of them because I have high standards.
Deep down, I crave the warmth of pussy in the worst way possible, and Beatrix knows it. She knows how long I’ve been locked up for, deprived of the normal pleasures other men get to enjoy. She knows how much I need to get laid and in a strange way, hiring me a prostitute could be seen as her way of showing tenderness.
No doubt, some people would be outraged by her behaviour and judge her harshly, but not me. As unorthodox as it is, at least it shows she cares. But I won’t settle for just anyone and until today, none of the other girls have ever made the cut.
No, I wasn’t angry because she engaged the services a prostitute. I was angry because I saw the look of revulsion on Jessica’s face, knew how repulsive she found me, and the pain of her rejection hurt like hell. This accursed face has long been the bane of my existence, and seeing her reaction brought back so many bad memories. When I saw how scared she was of me, how her hands trembled, how she refused to meet my gaze, I instantly put up the barriers and switched into ‘confident bastard’ mode.
Looking the way I do, my cocky self-assurance is often my only defence against the cruel hostilities of the world. When I speak openly about my ugliness, even sometimes joke about it, I do so as a coping mechanism because somewhere deep inside, I’m still that frightened little boy who cried his heart out over his dead cat. Back when I was a child, I used to show my emotions, I wore my heart on my sleeve but not anymore. Now whenever I suspect an oncoming attack, I pull up the drawbridge and give as good as I get. Fight fire with fire. I’ve learnt the hard way that it doesn’t pay to be weak and feeble in this world. It’s not wise to show your vulnerability and allow people to take advantage. It’s happened too many times in the past and I’ll be damned if I let it happen again.
But Jessica is different. She’s not like the other girls who were clearly just in it for the money. She’s had such a drastic effect on me she forced me to do something I never do. She got me to beg. She’s made me go against my principles and show a little vulnerability, something I hate to do. As our evening together ended, I realised I couldn’t let go of this one chance to make love to her. How could I? Only a fool would let this opportunity slip though his fingers. She got me so hot all I could think about was making her moan and scream. I wanted her so badly I was willing to do anything to take her to bed and that included paying far more than the £50,000 price tag for her affections. If she’d been up for it, I would have given her any amount of money she asked for.
But then I saw the terror and revulsion in her face, and I knew it was no use. No matter how much money was on offer, I knew she didn’t want me to touch her, didn’t want to have sex with me, which I suppose is understandable given the circumstances. I know how hideous I am and by rights, a woman of her calibre will always be out of reach to someone like me. But I still crave her regardless and plan to make it my life’s mission to get her to change her mind. If she could only see beyond my appearance, she would find I have so much to offer, so much to give, I just need to bide my time and wait for the right opportunity to make my move.
Driving like a man possessed, I tail the Rolls Royce relentlessly all the way back to London, jumping red lights, careful to always keep at a safe enough distance not to arouse suspicion. I’m so taken with Jessica she’s got me doing something else I rarely ever do: venture into the outside world. I hate the company of most people and under normal circumstances, wild horses couldn’t drag me beyond the gates of my home, but for her, I’ll make the exception.
Finally, around midnight, the Rolls turns a corner into a dark residential street that leads to the Clapham council estate where my beauty lives with her family. Stealthily, I park up, kill the engine and lean against the car seat, watching intently as Jessica gets out and waves goodbye to Hobbs. For a few seconds, she lingers on the curb watching him go, looking the picture of Amazonian perfection in that tight black dress that nearly gives me heart failure. Once he’s gone, she glances nervously left and right, then walks towards a low-rise block of flats made of yellow brick. A large sign on the communal entry door reads: ‘Terrapin House.’
She’s unsteady on her feet, stumbles on the gravel, suggesting she’s still a bit tipsy from the wine earlier. Reaching inside her handbag, she fumbles for her keys and after a short delay, lets herself into the block. As she turns, she blesses me with another eyeful of that glorious backside, and it takes all my willpower not to fantasise about what it would be like to push my tongue deep up there. Fuck, how good would that be? I bet she tastes divine. The mere thought of rimming her butthole gets me so excited I have to take short, sharp breaths to control myself.Lord of darkness, there are so many things I want to do to her, if only she’d let me…
A moment later, I see a light go on in one of the ground floor windows and get a full view of her tiny, sparsely furnished kitchen. There are no curtains. Whether this is because her family can’t afford them or they simply choose not to have them, I don’t know, but either way I’m delighted as it allows me to see everything.
For an interminable time, I watch my beauty fumbling around, opening and closing cupboards, rummaging in the fridge, until finally, she runs herself a glass of tap water and downs it in one gulp. After wiping her mouth, she switches off the kitchen light and disappears out of view. I presume she has moved to the back of the flat where her bedroom is located. Hopefully, when I return tomorrow, I will find that her bedroom window is visible from the garden and just as easily accessible…
So, this is where Jessica lives…It looks just the way I imagined it would. Modest and perhaps a little run-down but clean and well-kept nonetheless, a sign that those who live here take pride in their homes.
Exhaling softly, I sit for a moment in the darkness of the car, staring at the block of flats, hand on the steering wheel, marvelling at how quiet and peaceful everything is. Her street is pretty much deserted at this time of night and very few of the neighbours’ lights are on, so I have no fear of discovery. Plus, with the dark tinted windows of the Range and my face concealed by a thick black hooded cloak, my presence is near impossible to detect.
Content that I now know where to come back to, I start my car and steer out of Terrapin Road to make the long journey home. In some ways, this has been the best birthday I’ve had in years (the other being my tenth birthday when I was gifted my darling Trinity). For the first time ever, I see a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. I now have a goal, a purpose, and that is to win over the girl of my dreams and make her mine forever. No matter what it takes, no matter what the cost, I will not stop until I achieve my ambition to possess her completely.
The next morning, I awake flooded with positive energy. For a long while, I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling and immerse myself once more in thoughts from last night. It felt like a dream, a beautiful dream. Can somebody so perfect really exist? Once I have cast off the throes of sleep, I take a shower and masturbate furiously to thoughts of Jessica. Then I get dressed and go for a walk around the estate on this gloriously cold and crisp Sunday morning.
Breathing in the fresh air, I survey the magnificent vista of my ancestors’ land that now belongs to me and am warmed to hear that the birds are singing in the trees once more. Of late, my rampant mood swings scared them all away, but now they know that I am happy again they have returned to serenade me. My hope is now I am in a better place emotionally, more of the forest animals will gradually return to grace me with their presence. Now thatshehas come into my life and brought a sense of hope for the future, I pray all my friends from the animal kingdom will accept my forgiveness and return to the fold.
After a pleasant stroll around the estate, I return inside to have breakfast with my mother. As always, Mrs Bullivant has laid on a delicious spread of tea, toast, bacon, sausages, preserves, ham, egg and freshly baked rolls. As per usual, Beatrix barely touches anything, surviving on a perpetual diet of black coffee and cigarettes. She eats so little I sometimes wonder how she manages to maintain the strength to go to battle with me every day. Normally, I eat like a horse, but not today. Today I can barely hold anything down because all I can think about is Jessica. Desire has robbed me of my appetite and the one and only thing I crave is a taste of the sweetness between her thighs.
All throughout breakfast, Beatrix says very little to me. For the most part, the room is filled with stony silence, and we barely make eye contact with each other. I can tell she’s in a foul mood. She is perfectly aware that I followed Jessica back home last night but knows better than to ask questions. She knows she’s opened Pandora’s Box and now things are accelerating at a rate beyond her control. She thought she was so clever, thought she could keep me on a leash, but as always, my mother’s plans have had unintended consequences. Too late, the seeds of obsession have been planted and my fixation on my object of lust will only continue to grow and flourish.
After a period of insufferable stillness, Beatrix puts down her butter knife and shoots me a death stare. Evidently, she has something to get off her chest and I just wish she’d come out with it. I hate being kept in suspense.
“Well,” she says. “Now that you are clearly in a better mood, can I ask for you to please stop controlling the weather and let us have some peace, at least for a few days?”
I take a large bite of toast. “What do you mean? I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on Alex, you know precisely what I mean. Every time you’re in a bad mood, we have everything from torrential rain to mini hurricanes. It took me a while to work it out and make the connection, but I do believe it is you who is responsible for our recent bout of storms.”
