Rusty by G. A. Watson - HTML preview

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Chapter 13

We’d had three months of wonderful, but unpredictable sex, but on this occasion, Crispin hadn’t been his usual self. He seemed edgy, couldn’t stay still, and didn’t have his usual stamina. We only made love once, which was a first, and it wasn’t as good as usual. There was something on his mind. The only normal thing he did was insisting I stayed naked the whole time. That morning, he was up early, about 7:00. He was still edgy and looked as if he hadn’t slept. He told me he had to go out. He would be gone for at least an hour, and then he left. He didn’t kiss me and I heard the door close; not quite a slam, but he hadn’t turned the handle either.

It was only a couple of minutes later that I decided to get myself a drink from the fridge. I wandered into the kitchen, still half asleep, and poured myself a glass of orange juice. As I turned round to go back to the bedroom, I saw him. George was standing in front of the bedroom door, leering at me.

“Crispy wasn’t lying,” he licked his lips appreciatively. “He said you had a great body, great tits and shaved so he didn’t get hairs in his teeth.” I was momentarily stunned and then remembered I was naked. There was nothing immediately at hand to cover myself with. He had covered my return to the bedroom. I retreated to the fridge and opened the door used it to hide myself from his view. “That’s right dear,” he grinned. “And when you get really cold, I’ll enjoy warming you up.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I stammered. “Crispin will be back soon.” It was a bluff but it didn’t work.

“Nice try. He’ll return when I tell him to,” he smirked. “We need to have a nice little chat first. No need for you to get dressed though. I really must apologise for Crispy’s condition.” He was enjoying my discomfort. “It’s my fault, I suppose. I haven’t let him have his medication.” I looked surprised. I hadn’t known he needed medication. George noticed. “No need to worry. It’s nothing that his doctor is worried about. You didn’t really think he had such stamina without some help, did you? Oh, I see you did. Sorry to disappoint you. Attractive and sexy as you are, he needs tablets to, how shall I put it, keep it up.”

He had moved a little way from the bedroom door to where the fridge door couldn’t shield me. I thought I could make a dash for it. At the very least I could put some clothes on. I might even be able to keep him out of the room. But he was too quick for me. Just before I reached the door, he caught my wrist and spun me round, grabbed me by the waist and pulled me towards him. “I like a woman with a bit of spirit,” he said as he held me tight and looked me in the eye. “I have a proposition to put to you. I know where you live, where you work and how much you earn. You could do better, a lot better. With my help of course.” He had moved so his back was to the bedroom door and he released his grip slightly. But it was only so he could look at my body. He licked his lips. I had a good idea what he would expect in return for his ‘help’ and it wasn’t something I was prepared to pay. So what if he had ‘stolen’ other girls from Crispin, he wasn’t going to have me.

“Crispy is going to a party for the whole weekend. Just a few friends, six or so red-blooded males. It’s a gathering he goes to once a month. Oh? I see he hasn’t told you why he can’t see you every weekend. Each month, two of the men provide the entertainment. This time, it’s Crispy’s turn to provide one of the women. Whoever he takes to the party will be expected to entertain everyone, equally. The men appreciate it more if the two women also put on a show for them. No one has ever let the others down and he can’t afford to be the first. Crispy would very much like to take you. That way he will avoid the normal expense. But you could earn £1,500, just for the weekend, if you let me look after you. And I can guarantee you at least £700 per week after that. There’s quite a market for the more mature woman. And the tax man would be none the wiser. Tempting, isn’t it? Several of Crispy’s girlfriends now earn a really good living working for me. And all for doing what they really enjoy.”  I was stunned and angry. He was asking me to prostitute myself. Suggesting he would be my pimp.

He had relaxed his grip sufficiently for me to knee him in the groin. As he fell to the floor, I rushed into the bedroom, gathered my clothes and locked myself in the bathroom. I couldn’t believe Crispin would suggest such a thing. But nagging doubts assaulted my brain. How had George got into the flat? Had Crispin let him in? Crispin had been very edgy yesterday and today. Was that because he wanted to suggest something he knew in his heart I wouldn’t agree to? I dressed. It was quiet outside and then I heard the front door shutting. I breathed a sigh of relief. George had gone.

Cautiously, I unlocked the bathroom door and went back into the kitchen. The door shutting hadn’t been because George had left, but because Crispin had returned. The two of them were waiting for me. Crispin was sitting at the table, head in hands. George was leaning against the wall. He shut the bedroom door behind me to prevent me getting back to the bathroom. He wasn’t looking too pleased.

“Crispy isn’t happy, are you Crispy?” George stated threateningly. Crispin shook his head. “He has been telling his friends what a great body you have and how good you are in bed; that you’re insatiable. They are all looking forward to confirming Crispy’s opinion for themselves. Crispy is going to seem like he’s been exaggerating wildly, lying even. He’s going to be humiliated, maybe even kicked out of the club. He’d like you to reconsider. Do it for him. Forget what I said. That’s right, isn’t it?” he addressed this last bit to Crispin who just nodded without looking up.

“Get stuffed!” I screamed at George and then, much quieter, pleaded with Crispin. “Tell me it’s a lie. You don’t want me to do this, do you?” But he wouldn’t answer me or look me in the eye. He sat there, shivering.

“Crispy is feeling fragile at the moment.” George stated the obvious, but without sympathy. “But he’d quickly return to his normal self if you’d do as he wishes. And I’m sure you’d enjoy the weekend. And what could be better than getting paid handsomely for doing something you enjoy.” His tone was now soothing. The more he spoke, the more my spirits sank. Either I finished with Crispin completely, immediately, or I prostituted myself. Much as I had enjoyed being with Crispin, there was really no choice.

“I’ll get my clothes and leave,” I said with as much dignity and composure as I could muster. George made no attempt to stop me as I went into the bedroom to gather my clothes. I could hear them talking in the kitchen, but couldn’t make out what was being said. George was doing most of the talking and his tone wasn’t friendly.  Having collected my few clothes, I walked out with my head held high. I neither looked at either of them, nor spoke to them. I was thankful to be out of their midst.

The bus stop was only a hundred yards away and I was shaking with anger as I made my way there. I felt like crying but I was determined not to cry in public. Thankfully the bus arrived almost immediately. I was shivering even though it wasn't really cold; trying to hold myself together until I was safely inside my own home.