Anything But Love

----------------------------------Chapter One: Anything But Love---------------------------------


He comes every night like clockwork. Nine PM every night. He knows that’s when my shift begins. He knows that if he just sits there quietly watching me that my lashes will flutter coyly as our gazes catch on to one another’s. He’ll watch my body as I flaunt, whetting the appetites of the men in suits whose interests force them to frequent clubs such as this. All the while, I’ll be thinking of his hands, flesh, and teeth dragging across my body, clinging to my body like the leather gear they have me in tonight.

I’ve always known that my looks were exotic. Back when my life was normal, I got quite a deal of attention from my classmates, and my teachers. Some of it was wanted, but most of the time, the attention made me nervous. I held my tongue because they told me to, and because my stubborn pride blinded me. I didn’t realize the attention I got was anything but ordinary.

Now I use my body to survive. No, it’s not for my survival; it’s for hers. Everything is for my sister, laid up in a hospital bed with no life but the steady bleep of the heart monitor. My other employer makes sure she stays safe, but as a result, I don’t get paid. Here, the base pay is lousy, but my looks make sure I get a steady wage in lap dances.

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The first night I saw him here, I nearly fell off the stage. The man I knew as Balinese had snuck his way in, looking more like he belonged on stage than positioned at its foot. I was caught completely off guard, but by the way he was smirking, he had known I’d be there. I managed to ignore him most of the night, and finished my performance like the good boy I was.

After the show, however, I caught him sneaking out the front door. I stormed after him, my face already hot with anger. I caught him by his jacket, and pulled him into the alley, quite intent upon letting him know how angry I was. Yohji, however, had something else in mind. He pressed me against the thick brick wall, crushing his lips against mine. I forgot about my anger pretty quickly. We stayed like that for a moment, until he finally peeled away, panting ever so slightly. Then came the words I was dreading.

“How much?”

I still don’t know to this day how I managed to answer him. He had figured me out. The dancing was just a way to bring in customers.

“How much do you think I’m worth?”

He slid a wad of bills into my hand, as if he had already counted them out, holding them prepared in his pocket. I eyed them for a moment, and then slid them into my back pocket. I wrapped my arms behind his neck, pulling his lips onto my own. He called a cab, and drove us off to the nearest hotel in silence.

As we lay on the softly made bed in our deranged situation, I tried so hard to pretend I was with someone else. It wasn’t that I didn’t find Yohji attractive; As a matter of fact, I was quite infatuated with him. That was the problem. Here, I had the man who I had dreamt of so many nights, holding me in his arms like a toy; Like the good little boy I was supposed to be. The outline of the money in my back pocket reminded me of what this meant to him. I was a whore. So there I was undressing the most amazing man I had ever wanted to touch, to be near, but I could not bear to realize who he was, imagining him to be anyone else.

I did all the things I was supposed to do. I pushed his back into the mattress while I unbuttoned his shirt, my ass resting on his solid crotch. As my arms moved, my hips circled slowly over his, rubbing myself all over him. I ran my fingers across his chest, carefully masking my eyes with my hair. I knew that he’d be looking at me. I knew that he, like all of them, would want to see my eyes, wide and pleading against the straining erection in his pants. I wanted to see his eyes, too, but what we were doing was anything but love. If I looked into his eyes then, what little heart I had would have throbbed in one final outburst, then exploded, taking down my sanity with it.

I could tell by the way that Yohji’s hips were responding that he wanted more, so I allowed myself to be turned over on the bed. I buried my face in the pillow as he removed himself of excess clothing, and obediently raised my legs as he wriggled my pants down. Now I had my ass raised to him, my face laying cheek to the pillow, and my hair once again separated our eyes. I waited for him, lips parted and wet, legs spread and wanting.

His hands clasped over my own as he positioned himself behind me. He felt ever so good as he slid inside, cock coated in lube, and my body soaked in every ounce of him. Like any good whore, I had learned how to enjoy it any way I got it, no matter what. As long as I let my emotions go dry, and my body took over, no one could tell that my thoughts weren’t on them.

My body backed up against his, urging him on. His hips swayed giddily, like a man staggering home drunk, but happy. The stain of regret was creeping into my skull, but he seemed impermeable to it. I forgot my training. I knew who this man was, and I was panting his name.

The more his name spilled out of my confused mouth, the harder and faster he pushed. With each thrust, the gap between my groin and my brain increased. My body was tensing, heaving, thrashing, and moaning beneath him; I could feel him growing more taught inside me, the tension pulling apart my brain, peeling back each precious layer and opening my mind for him to prey upon.

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“Hey, Aya!”

I nearly dropped the vase I was carrying to the counter. Yohji had slung his arm over my shoulder in far too pleasant a manner. I grappled with the cumbersome glass, nearly yelping as I shrugged him off. This battle had been raging all day; the ever-calm Yohji Kudoh, Slayer of Hearts, versus Aya Fujimiya, the Ice Princess, ever fumbling and cold.

Parry. Yohji peeked at me over the rim of his sunglasses, mouth dejected and agape. “Geez, Aya. What’s gotten into you?” Yohji lowered his gaze even more, attempting to catch my eyes. He lifted his hand to brush my forehead, and I fretted it away. “Are you feeling ok?”

I set the arrangement on the counter, and shot a quick glare at him. Thrust. He backed away, hands frozen and placating by the sides of his face in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

I couldn’t wait for night to fall. I needed to get out of the Koneko. I needed the thick glove of the moonlight grasped around my neck. I wanted to brush away the awkwardness of the mundane and normal, and return to the nervous tension of the strange nighttime.

I’ve lived every day and night this way for a month. It seems so short in retrospect. One month, one tiny morsel of a lifetime, had thrown my life into satisfying chaos. It was frustrating and fantastic all at once.

I will confront him tonight.


-------------------------------------------End Chapter One--------------------------------------------