Chapter 92: Chapter 92

Chapter 92

~if I want to have you I will have you regardless~

Fanny stared at her stretched hand for a minute, threw a gaze at her enormous bust that weighed down on her chest, and then upon her seductive face came his hungry glare.

“I am Fanny,” he mumbled, with playful, interesting voice that had missed some ingredient of love in the shortest of time. One could sense the freedom and passion that lit up his face even the tricks to mask such feeling was missing. He had a warm hand shake with her “I wonder what I am doing here with a naked woman,” he said yet again this time shyly casting his gaze on his feet which housed a lace-free pair of sneakers. Speedily, he looked at her bust and looked away at once—as though there was something more enchanting in her bust than her personality.

“Oh so sorry,” she bent remorsefully, grasped her micro gown from the floor. “I can still dress up.” She was already squeezing her slightly thick body into the French gown and stretching out the edges afterwards. When she gazed upon her beholder she rarely could decide where his stare was on her body; whether on her bust or on her vagina camel toes that showed visibly through her thong. But certainly she could sense the happiness that hung on his face; something that meant more of obsession and craving could happen between them if she would not appear unclad in his presence anymore; the smile that weighed on his chin was so contagious and charming that she felt blushed and nursed to be with a prisoner she could claim as hers forever. I hope you are comfortable with me?” she obliged as she was all dressed up now.

He shook his head, still at his smile like a kid that was gifted a stick of candy. “Better.” He smacked his lips and surged closer to her corner. “To what do I owe this ungodly visit, Lucy?”

She was quelled to comfort within her heart and, in her twenty years of hustling as a whore on the streets of California, she had never heard a man call her name so carelessly yet sounded seductive. Lucy sounded differently on his lips. As tough he was calling out the name of a flower not common to man but angels. “A whole lot,” she replied and forced out the chuckle she had been struggling to fight off all along. “I have not come to give you my body.” she picked up a cigar from her bag. “Hope you don’t mind.” She lit up quickly and blew a cloud of smoke even before he granted his permission. In the shortest time of opening and shutting his eyes, he perceived her by his shoulder, burning him with the warmth that surged from her breath of smoke “If I want to present my body to the richest of men from the County, I would be damn busy doing so and you wouldn’t have me smoking and talking to you now. Gracefully I can say our meeting today is about to rewrite our destiny…” she wanted to speak yet further but took the cigar right between her kiss-it-lips and smoked on.

“What destiny?” he asked coldly, breathing hard against her face that shone like shear butter that was smeared across the skin of a new born. He whispered, “ You deserve a better life than this. Go out there and lie to whoever that sent you that you are done warming my thighs, because for all I know nothing will ever happen between us and can never happen between us,”

As he spoke her face was so immersed in smiles that she almost bust into a sporadic laugh. She giggled like never before and felt charmed to his ego and audacity. Men like Mr. Fanny had aroused her ecstasy and loyalty and she found them to be romantic to a fault. He stood still, staring at her as she sniffed him, pressed her body to his warm chest and felt charmed to the grip of the first client she had ever met, even when he was holding her, even when he held her to push her away there was a magic about his blue eyes; the magic only colors of ocean could tell. She breathed harder, he smelled of burnt caramel and she loved t with every bit of urge in her; the urge to lay hold on his face and plant a kiss on those sensual take-it-lips until he moaned under his breath.

“I know I deserve a better life but most especially we deserve a better life too.” She said as they burnt each other’s face with their warm breath.

Mr. Fanny scowled at her; that frown asked a thousand questions.

“Yes,” she said, held his hand, raised it and put it to her bust. She intended to put it to her chest but the mass of a bust occupied a larger area of her chest. “What do you feel?” she asked, “We are even aren’t we? I am an ex-convict. My ex husband filed a divorce while I was in jail. When I heard your predicament, I agreed within myself to meet with you, to see my very self, to know how you have been surviving. I never wanted to be a whore but the sad part of life plunged me into it and I have been happy after taking that decision to be screwed by the dicks of different men.”

Fanny breathed hard, pulled away from her and turned his back to her, and muttered, “My wife didn’t file divorce …”

She cut in, “Don’t lie to me. My brother told me everything.”

He turned his gaze at her, “Who is your brother?” Anxiety puffed out his cheeks.

She rolled her eyes, “The prison president, the blonde.” She emphasized and winked at him.

He raised a brow. “Oh I see. He is actually your brother. And you too teamed up to make life more miserable for me here by forcing it upon me to push drugs in jail and sleep with you.”

“What the hell!” she exclaimed, as shock dragged across her face. “He never told me that. He only told me I needed to screw you and calm your damn nerves.”

Fanny drifted gradually to her and paused at face length as they locked eyes once again. He whispered, “And do you think that is going to be possible since I am still in love with my wife?”

Her hand was rubbing on his zipper now. She felt his erection had built into a thick shaft. “If I want to have you, I will have you regardless of the mad love you have for a woman that divorced you while in jail. Love is public affair. No limitation and no rules.” Angry, she dug her hand under her gown, between her thighs, slid down her G-string and put it in his pocket. “Since you don’t want to have me warm your thighs you can keep my G- string, it will help you. Good bye, Mr. Fanny,” she whispered, picked up her handbag and knocked away in her stiletto.

“Heh hold on…” he called her attention but then she was approaching the door. Fanny stared at her until she passed through the door and then his gaze returned to the pink thong as he pulled it from his pocket.

Enchanted romance by the corner…