|
"Leave A Light On For Me "Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: rape/noncon, prostitution, drug use,
drug addiction, homophobia, and abuse of a minor. Please heed the
warnings. Pairings: 3x4, 4xOC'sx4 Summary: After recovering from an addiction to
painkillers, Quatre finds himself facing an uncertain future. " Leave A Light On For Me " This chapter mentions daddy kink and the use of sex toys. If that bothers you, turn back now, or skip the second paragraph. This chapter also mentions rimming, rough sex, and drug overdose. As with anything, some things are better than others. Some people are better than others. The same principle applied when it came to my customers. Some weren't so bad. Some I wish I'd never encountered. I had some that were unerringly romantic. They brought me flowers, wined and dined me, and took me to bed as though I was a lover instead of a transaction. Others, well. Let's just say I barely made it through the experience. There was one John, we'll call him 'Hank' for the sake of brevity. He liked to pretend he was my daddy and I was his naughty son. His prefered night usually entailed spanking me and then fucking me with a toy while he masturbated. I never really was able to get comfortable with him, though I did my best. I wasn't a squeamish person, but the concept of his fantasies left me uneasy. And he knew it. He told me I had daddy issues. Shocker. Of course, it couldn't have been that his kink was a tad on the creepy side. But he paid me well so I played along. My favorite, if it's possible to have a favorite in a situation such as mine, was a man named Bri. He actually did treat me like a lover. I believe in his mind, I was. He was married, as many of them were. I quickly found out a lot of my customers were closet cases living the life of a heterosexual family man. He loved to tell me all about his life, his work, his family, but never his wife. He brought me roses, took me out to the finest restaurants, bought me clothes, even underwear. He would kiss and touch and caress me long before we ever got down to the actual sex. He loved seeing me enjoying myself, loved pleasuring me. And he did pleasure me. It was a little tough to come to grips with the fact that I enjoyed our time together. Enjoyed the sex. He was gentle and attentive. He touched and held me like I was the most precious thing in the world. I never thought I'd feel that kind of devotion and I'd wept in Colin's arms that first night, feeling so terrible about the fact that I'd liked what he did to me, wondering if I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. "It's okay if it felt good, Quat. It's perfectly normal," he said as he swept my hair off my forehead and dried my tears. "That's happened to me, too." "It has?" "Of course! Not all Johns are bad. Some just want a little love and affection. Some just want to give love and affection." "So, what do I do?" "My advise is just lay back and enjoy it. There's nothing wrong with liking sex, even if it's paid for." Colin had helped me a lot with that conversation. I'd always viewed it as a business transaction. I did my job and I got paid. There was no actual pleasure though sometimes it did feel good when it was done right. I was devastated when I actually orgasmed from the sex I'd had with Bri. I thought there was something wrong with me. I hadn't had an experience where I'd been able to enjoy it so when it actually happened, I didn't know what to do. I decided to take Colin's advice. When it felt good, I let it show, and the responses I got were even more poignant. They actually worked harder to get those reactions from me. I was even paid extra when I went the extra mile. I saw Bri once, or twice a week and I took full advantage of his generosity. He loved foreplay and never missed a chance to lay me out on my stomach and bury his face in my ass. The first time he did it, I was too frozen in shock to actually feel any pleasure from it, but as time went on, it became a staple in our relationship and I absolutely loved it. He always made me climax once when he did that, then he would lay his body over mine and fuck me through another one. I was often covered in love bites from head to toe by the time we were finished. After, he would hold me, trail his fingers along my side and tell me how much he wanted to divorce his wife and take me as his full-time lover. He talked about how he would whisk me away to the most beautiful places in the world, Paris, Venice, Greece. Oh, but I couldn't help it. I never said it, but sometimes I'd wished he would. I didn't love him, my heart still belonged to Trowa. But I could imagine being his lover. It would have been so much better than where I was. Deep down I knew I could never do it. I knew I'd be taking advantage of him and I couldn't do that. It still curdled within my belly to think how many of these men had wives who probably didn't know they were sneaking off on their business trips to fuck young men. But, if I had turned them down on principle, I wouldn't eat. I wouldn't have a home. It wasn't that hard when I didn't have to see the effect on their lives as a family. It wasn't my problem. I was simply conducting business. At least, that was what I told myself. I also couldn't do it because there was no way I could be in a romantic relationship with anyone who wasn't Trowa. What I did was survival. I didn't love these men, they didn't love me, even though some told me they did. Even after whoring myself out to dozens of men, a romantic relationship felt like infidelity. It's crazy, I know. We weren't together. Never really had been, but it felt like cheating nonetheless. I realized later that it wasn't Trowa I would be cheating. It was my own heart. It knew what it wanted and it wouldn't settle for anything less. Not even if what it wanted was impossible. The closest I ever came to a relationship where money didn't change hands, was with Colin. I let him make love to me quite a few times. The first time was our first night in the apartment. We ordered greasy takeout and ate sitting on the floor with our backs up against the wall, watching the people walk by our window and making up stupid stories about them. He took me by surprise by suddenly kissing me and the next thing I knew, I was naked and getting fucked into the carpet. He apologized afterwords and I laid my head on his chest and told him to quit being stupid. It had been comforting, I think for both of us. Having sex for no other reason than because we wanted to. My first sexual experiences had been through force. I was an unwilling participant, sick and restrained. After that, it had been to survive. To be able to just have sex because we were young and horny was freeing. Liberating. I felt almost cleansed of the filth I'd been subjected to for so long. The layers of invisible grime on my skin, my soul, sloughed off like old paint. It felt good, but it wasn't how I'd always imagined it would feel with someone you love. Not that Colin and I didn't love each other. We did. Just not in that way. I suppose we could have made it work, but I seriously doubted it. He wasn't Trowa. He wasn't and my stupid, foolish heart just would not let him go. I hated it. I was so angry with myself that I was still holding on to something that would never happen. Colin knew, too. He stroked my hair and spoke to me with gentle, soothing tones. Reassuring me that it didn't have to mean more than it did. "I know your heart belongs to someone else." I looked up at him, surprised at his perceptiveness. "How did you know?" He smiled, one finger tracing the arch of my eyebrow. "You may not realize this, Quatre Raberba Winner, but your eyes are very expressive. They hold nothing back." I groaned and dropped my head, my chin bouncing off his breastbone. "Damn. And I thought I was getting better at hiding that." I expected him to laugh, but he shook his head. "No. Don't do that. I think it's beautiful." "You do?" "It's rare nowadays to see such genuine feelings in a person. Everyone is so fake. Trying to be someone they're not. When I look into your eyes, I see truth, life, innocence." I did laugh then. "I'm far from innocent." "No, I don't think so. It's not what you've done. It's who you are." "When did you become so idyllic?" He smirked at me and tapped my nose. "I'm full of surprises." The second time was a few weeks later. He'd come home in tears after discovering one of the boys we'd housed with was found dead in an alley. Drug overdose. The news hit us both hard. Colin because he'd known him. Me because it was something that had once been a real possibility for me. It could have been me. He cried in my arms, his face pressed against my stomach. I stroked his hair and tried to soothe him as best I could. He looked up at me with sorrowful eyes, wet with tears, and my heart broke for him. "Let me make love to you. Please." I let him. Pressing him down onto his back, I climbed on top of him and took him inside me, watching as his back arched with pleasure, his fingers digging into my hips. Afterwords, he curled up around me and whispered, "I'm glad that didn't happen to you." I touched his face, softly, tucking a brown lock of hair behind his ear. "So am I." The third time, I'd just come back from a date with Bri. He'd been his usual amorous self and I came home feeling sexy and languid from the incredible lovemaking, and a few hundred dollars richer. Colin greeted me at the door and pushed me over the back of the couch, yanking my pants down and fucking me with minimal preparation, not that I needed any. He was rougher than usual, but I was already worked up from my night with Bri and welcomed it, pushing my hips back to meet his vigorous thrusts. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me upright, his heaving chest vibrating against my back as he hissed in my ear. "Don't go back to him. Don't go back to any of them." The possessiveness in his voice triggered my climax, so excruciatingly aroused by his dominance. I reached back and wrapped my arm around his neck as he bit my shoulder, begging through his mouthful of skin. "Please. Don't do it anymore. I can't stand it." Of course, even if I had decided to begin an actual monogamous relationship with Colin, I was not about to let him take the full burden of responsibility, even though he was willing. "I can make the money. I can still whore myself. You don't have to do it anymore. I don't want you to." "Colin, you know I can't do that." "Why not?" "Why not? Because I'm not a defenseless little flower for starters. You think I want to do this? You think I want you to have to do this? Why should you take on all the burden?" "Because I can't stand the fact that other men are touching you." "Damn it, Colin! I was afraid of this. I should have known as soon as we started sleeping together that this would happen." I grabbed my clothes and went to the bedroom. There was only one and we shared it. "You can't do this to me. You promised me you wouldn't get attached. You know damn well I am not going to quit and leave you holding the bag. I'm insulted that you even considered asking me." He crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. "I don't want to lose you." I sighed and relented. A little. "You're not going to. But even if you want this relationship to be something more, you can't ask me to do that. Would you do it if I asked you?" "No, but -" "And no, it's not different." He gave me a pleading look, almost pouting. It was so cute, I nearly laughed. "If you care about me, you won't ask me that again. I won't do it. I won't walk away and leave you with the burden." I knew he wasn't happy about it. The sex we had after that was always rougher, a searing possession in the stiff coil of his muscles as he held me, in the fire behind his brown eyes, in the burn left on my skin from his biting kisses. With each encounter we had, it was as if he was trying to erase the touches of my customers. Peeling their taint from my body with each nip of his teeth, each bruising grip on my flesh, every thrust of his hips. I wished I could have fallen in love with someone like Colin. Built a life together. Maybe we could have gone to college, gotten good jobs. Bought a house and a dog. Went on vacations together wearing tacky Hawaiian shirts like typical tourists. Worried about mortgages and car payments. Planned our retirement funds. It may have just been the one thing that could have saved his life.
~ * ~ |
