After Work Excess Page 4

  I cried and cried all day long, I was totally inconsolable, and after sharing several text messages with my friends, later that evening Holly, Steph and Claire came round to comfort me, and try to help me to take stock of the situation, after two solid weeks of personal misery.

  Against my own wishes, they decided that the best thing for me, was to get me dressed up (after a bath of course, as I hadn't changed out of my dressing gown for two days) and get me out on the town for a wild and drunken 'girlie night out’. I really wasn't in the mood to even leave the flat, but they were increasingly persistent, and absolutely insisted that I joined them, even if it was only for one hour. Reluctantly, I put on my favourite skinny jeans, some 4" black patent heels that Claire pulled from the back of my wardrobe and a tight Black River Island top. Although I had agreed to go along with them, I just hoped that we wouldn't bump into Ash and Naz, but I guess there was no chance as they lived in London – or so they said, as they may well have been lying to us all on that night!

  The bars in the centre of town were understandably packed, as Saturday night was already in full-flow when we arrived and I was knocking back both the drinks and the guys two at a time! With me having consumed far too many drinks already, we headed off to a club and once there the four of us met a group of younger lads, who we felt safe with, as one of them was Holly's younger brother. They were all a couple of years younger than us, so I'd probably say that they were all about 19 or 20, a bit immature for my liking - but safe company all the same. We all got chatting, and with me momentarily setting my heart-break to one side, we drank and had a good dance, as I was desperate to continue to put the thought of my broken relationship firmly out of my mind.

  After a good hour of dancing solidly, I eventually retreated from the floor and sat with one of the guys, called Jamie, who seemed particularly friendly towards me. He was aware that I was 22 and told me that he was 20 and a close friend of Holly's brother, he seemed sweet, quite tall, about 6'1" or 6'2", slim with short brown hair. He made me laugh and that was a really good thing, especially considering what I'd just been through. Jamie told me all about his part-time minimum wage job and his ‘pimped up’ Vauxhall Corsa that had a purple strobe light underneath it, and he insisted that I must see it, as he mocked himself, which had me laughing loudly with him. I nodded along, but I couldn’t help but think, “What a chav!”

  He was undeniably funny though, but I couldn't hold back my dark and depressing thoughts for long though, as he was asking me all sorts of probing questions about myself. I inevitably, and drunkenly ended up telling him about my three escorting ‘meets’ and how I had ruined my relationship with my ex-fiancée just two weeks ago, by letting a smooth talking Indian guy sleep with me after a drunken girls night out. Although he at first joked that I’d better stop drinking, as I might end up in bed with him, Jamie’s answer was simple, I was just ‘too’ honest, as he tried to advise me that I should have kept with my story that I'd met the Indian guy as a client and that I should have told my ex-fiancée a little white lie, and that if I'd done that - everything would be okay now. I thought about his advice for a moment as I looked down at my heels glumly as he spoke to me through the loud RnB music, straight into my blonde hair.

  Then he really made me laugh, by saying “But hey, if you hadn't been through all that you would never have met me tonight!” I did laugh at that, I had to! He was at least two years younger than me and about 12 years younger than my ex fiancée, so surely he didn't think that he was actually in with a chance with me, but then I was at an all-time low, as you know.

  “You aren't shocked that I slept with three guys for cash then?” I dared to ask.

  “Not at all, you're a good looking girl, and I bet that you've had loads of offers from guys, so why not let them pay for it?” he professed, showing signs of wisdom beyond his tender years.

  “But it's a bit shameful isn't it?” I pressed, as I drunkenly lent towards his awaiting ear.

  “I guess so yes, but I bet that a lot of girls in here have done things that they regret, they just wouldn't admit to it, like you just did...”

  “Maybe...” I replied, as I looked up and took in the sight of the drunken revellers in this crowded club. A night-club that was filled with young girls, dressed tight dresses and party heels, with most of them wearing ridiculously long hair extension and false eyelashes. All probably in the vain attempt of being chatted up by a charming Prince, and inevitably being invited back to his place, for what they would no doubt hope would be the start of a loving and long term relationship. Although I for one, knew that most of the guys in this club were only looking for a drunken one night stand at 3am, and certainly wouldn't be calling these girls the following day, for a walk along the beach! How bitter and twisted love and life had made me suddenly become...

  Soon after that deep and meaningful conversation, and after a much needed trip to the ladies toilet, I decided that I really needed to go home, I was after-all still heartbroken, and despite the copious amount of alcohol that I had consumed - this just wasn't right. Claire was busy flirting with an older guy on the dance-floor and Holly hanging out with her brother and Jamie, so Steph walked with me to the clubs entrance and I kissed her goodnight at just after 1am.

  ***

  I was starting out on my lonely journey back to my empty flat, in the pouring rain, when I heard footsteps approaching from behind, I hoped that it wasn't anything sinister, but then realised that it was actually Jamie. He had tracked me down, if only to offer me the protection of his jacket, which I accepted and wore over my head, as he offered to walk me back to my flat. He was so kind in looking out for me, that I couldn't help but invite him in for a post drink coffee and to dry himself off, as it would have been rude not to. He readily agreed, but stated that he'd have to head back to rejoin his mates in half an hour, and as we drank our sobering coffees, we chatted freely whilst watching the late night repeat of ‘I'm a Celebrity - Get me out of here’.

  After well over half an hour of sitting across from him, I complimented him, telling him that he seemed to have a relaxed and kind nature, and that I was thankful that he made me laugh so much. I knew where I wanted this conversation to head though, and was conscious that I didn't want to give him the wrong impression of me, so I explained that a new guy definitely wasn't what I was looking for right now. He listened intently, as I continued, stating that I still had some hope that my ex-fiancée would turn up on a cold Sunday morning, so there was no way I was going to let Jamie stay the night. I just wanted to be honest with him, as he may have been thinking that I’d invited him back to mine for some filthy rebound sex.

  “So you just assumed that I'd planned to charm you into letting me stay the night did you?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Well you're a guy aren't you, and we've been chatting for most of the night back at the club, so surely for most guys, that would only mean one thing, especially now that you're back in my flat?”

  “Not all guys are like that Sammy...” he replied, sounding genuinely offended.

  Deep down though, I sensed that Jamie fully understood, but I felt quite guilty about pre-judging him, and moved across to the sofa that he was sat on to continue chatting a little more, not wanting him to leave on a sour note. As we chatted, I was conscious of the time, as he must have been with me for a good hour, but the undeniable problem was that I was very emotionally venerable, and low in confidence and Jamie made me feel good about myself, even if it was only for this moment. I could blame the alcohol, but if you've ever been unceremoniously dumped by someone, as I'm sure everyone has at some point in their life, your brain tends to make quite irrational decisions at these moments of self-loathing. So, I have to admit that I did end up leaning forward and initiating a kiss with him, and thankfully although he seemed a little shocked at first, he soon eagerly reciprocated, kissing me back passionately.

  We French kissed 'like two love stuck teenagers with no where else to go' for a good twenty minutes, but as
his wandering hands began to dare to try and explore under the material of my fitted black top, I knew that I couldn't follow this through - it would be just plain wrong. I didn't feel too guilty though, as I had after-all spent the best part of the last half hour French kissing him on my sofa.

  I eventually managed to usher him out towards the door, ending any fantasy that he was having about spending the night with this vulnerable, but sloppy kisser of an older woman. I quickly sensed that he wasn't giving up that easily though, as a laugh and a joke in the hallway, again became another long and lingering French kiss goodnight, which cumulated in him daring to grope my denim covered buttocks as we stood kissing by my closed front-door. He Pressed desperately against me, and onto the hallway wall, in the hope that I'd change my mind. I knew that I just couldn't sleep with him, and I also knew that I didn't really want to, and so in my alcohol impaired wisdom, I decided that there was only one thing to do and that was to take full control of this situation with this horny testosterone fuelled stud.

  With my plan firmly in mind, I pushed him back, gently, but assertively so he was stood against the opposite wall of my narrow hallway, kissing him all the while, reaching up to kiss him as he was at least 6 inches taller than me, which was in itself, a strange feeling for me as my Ex was no where near as tall as him. I then I deftly sunk my slender hand into the waistband of his baggy jeans and straight under his tight jockey pants, to clasp it around the length of his expectantly erect penis.

  He must have thought his luck had finally changed as he quickly unbuttoned his fly to give me better access to his throbbing tool. I then began to initiate a very firm, tight and fast wanking motion around the shaft of his impressively sized, shaven clean young cock. It felt considerably long, and quite heavily veined, for one brief moment, I even dared to contemplate the thought of what it would feel like in my mouth. Setting that thought to one-side, I gripped him firmly, totally controlling him by his cock, stroking him furiously as my tongue darted in and out of his mouth and he fumbled to try and grope my pert breasts through my black top. I kept him fully under my control, pinned against the wall and didn't loosen my grip on his hard cock for a second. I also used the pressure of my body, pressed forwards against his until I ultimately felt his knees whither and buckle. I sensed that he was simple unable to hold back, as his long slim legs weaken and his young body became subservient to me, and quite obviously helpless to my firm touch. He semi collapsed his weight against me, probably knowing full-well that I was now in full control of his bodily functions, as he began to ejaculate in my controlling grasp.

  Only then did I finally stop kissing and stroking his cock, smiling up at him triumphantly, as I released my weight from his spent body, to see what a mess he'd made of my fingers and my Black River Island top. I could clearly see that there were several strands of his pure white semen coating my top, just below my breasts - as was so tall. He noticed too and was a little bit flustered from having just ejaculated, but still fairly embarrassed at the mess that he'd inadvertently caused from my aggressive, but intensely sexual stroking method.

  “Now go home!” I giggled, but then added in a commanding and firm tone “And let me clean myself up from your filthy mess – young man..!”

  He laughed back; breaking away from my clutches, as he promptly place his semi hard cock back into his jeans and reached for his much needed packet of Lambert and Butlers. He was all red cheeked and lost for words as he said goodnight with a thankful peck on the lips, before I locked the front-door firmly behind him.

  I put my top in to soak overnight, laughing to myself at the peculiar events of the night, and quickly got myself changed for bed, strangely hoping that maybe my Sunday lie in would be interrupted by the return of my fiancée, sorry, I mean ex-fiancée. Or maybe I’d wake up with the realisation that this whole episode had just been a wickedly naughty dream…

  But of course, it wasn't.

  Chapter 4 – On the Edge...

  So after a long and much needed sleep, I eventually woke up at half past eleven the following morning, Sunday morning after having a rather nice dream about my Ex-Fiancée. The problem with dreams like that, when you've just split up from someone is the cold reality of waking up and realising that your life is still a totally fucked up mess and that the relationship that you once savoured is still very much over.

  I turned to my phone to see that who had sent me a text message and saw that I had three new messages, but sadly none of them were from my ex, but there was a message from Jamie who I couldn't even remember swapping numbers with the previous evening, his first message simply said 'Thank you for the best cock wank ever, your a super babe x x x'

  As I read his message, the stark realisation suddenly hit me, as to what I had done for him, on the previous evening in my hallway, as I thought 'Oh My God!' It was all coming flooding back to me now. How I sluttishly wanked Jamie's cock in my own hallway, just to send him on his way home, 'how incredibly embarrassing'!

  The next message for from my friend Holly, asking if I got home okay, God how was I ever going to explain to her that Jamie ended up walking me home, Jamie - her little brothers gangly mate and more to the point, that I'd ended up wanking him off back at my flat, I would surely die of embarrassment if she ever found out! The final message was from my Mum who obviously knew about my sudden heart ache and had messaged me, inviting me over for Sunday Lunch with my little brother, sister Kayleigh and of course, my Dad. It was a nice thought, but I knew that if I spent the afternoon with my family, I'd end up just being a tearful mess, so I politely declined and said that I was going to go shopping to the Mall with Claire.

  Then a fourth message came through, from Jamie again, 'Hi babe, me again – do you fancy going for a walk on the beach, it’s dead nice out? No strings x x x'

  It was quite a nice thought, on his part, but there was no way that I was willing to meet up with him, especially after how the previous evening had ended, as I'd have felt incredibly embarrassed, if I met him again. Therefore, I showered and got myself vaguely presentable, before slouching on the sofa on my pink towelling lounge suit and put the TV on, but there was nothing on and these four walls were just what I didn't need right now.

  A good two hours must have passed, and then eventually, out of sheer boredom, more than after thing else, I sent Jamie a message back and in it, I just said 'Okay, I'll meet you in an hour by the Tropicana, if you're still up for that walk? X'. He immediately replied, saying cool, or something along those lines. It looked quite cold out so I chucked on a North Face Gillette and my Ugg boots, tied my shoulder length blonde hair back in a tight and functional ponytail and headed off to get some cash out before walking down to the seafront to meet him.

  I got there just before 1pm and Jamie was sat on a wall, already waiting for me, whilst smoking one of his Lambert and Butlers. He looked quite the picture, like a hooded chav, with no place to go. He gave me a polite peck on the cheek and immediately said that I looked different without my club girl make up on, which offended me at first, but then, realising his mistake by my stern look, he continued with “I meant different in a ‘good way’, you're very pretty - you know, in a natural way!”

  Nice recovery, I thought to myself!

  ***

  We walked along the blustery beach, chatting quite freely, and as we walked on the huge open space, I thought how odd we must've looked me, with me being barely 5'5" and only 8 stone, after losing weight since the break-up, and him being at least 6'2" - all skinny in his hooded top and baseball cap. We must have looked like a right odd couple, or maybe it was just me that thought that!

  We continued to chat as we walked for ages, covering miles. All subjects were open for discussion, as we talked about the breakdown of my relationship with my fiancée, how I had originally met him at the bank, and lots more. I was worried that I was boring Jamie, as I just seemed to be talking about myself, but he told me that he was keen to learn all about me, as he even listened to me running through all the
stuff that we used to do together.

  I went on to explain how hard it had been for me, especially over the last two weeks, having to go in to work and put a fake smile on my face in front of all those customers wanting loans or home insurance quotes. Although he was younger than me, and I had been used to relating to older guys, he listened well and seemed to really understand what I’d been going through…

  Then, after we turned to begin our long walk back, towards the pier – he dared to ask me about my escorting experiences. I was hesitant to share at first, but although we'd walked for miles by that point, Jamie seemed genuinely interested, although I sensed that he may have been secretly quite turned on, as he listened to me describing the handful experiences I'd had as an (albeit – occasional) escort. I found him so easy to talk to, that I even recalled the first time that I'd ever agreed to sex for cash, where a guy called Warren, my manger from my part-time job at the local arcade took me to the beach-front car-park late one night, after work. I was only 18 at the time, and about as naive as any girl could be at that age! I explained how I eventually agreed to let him have sex with me, in the back of his car, all for the paltry sum of £60.

  Jamie was understandably shocked, but said that girls at his school were always going with guys in their cars, so it turns out that I was hardly as daring as I may have felt at the time.