Crash

"I didn't expect to see you here."

"I could say the same thing."

"Are you trying to get picked up?"

Her stare was cold, emotionless. "Yes. I just want to get fucked."

He said nothing.

"What's the matter? Didn't expect 'fuck' to be in my vocabulary?"

He shrugged. "So. You want to get fucked or get fucked up?"

"Look, I like you but don't, you know...Jesus, I don't want your pitiful psychoanalysis." She sipped her drink.

He stared at the bar. "Let's go then." He looked at her, into her weary eyes.

"What? Look, don't try to 'save me', o.k? That's really very noble but like I said I'm here to get fucked. Laid. Screwed. Banged. Hard. That's all."

"Fuck 'noble', Carol. I meant let's go. You want fucked and I want to fuck you. Lay you. Screw you. Bang you. Fuck, you look like you'd like to be slapped around a bit. Forced, you know?"

She said nothing.

"What, you never thought I could have such thoughts?"

He laid a 5-dollar bill on the bar for his drink. "She runnin' a tab?"

The bartender nodded. Scott flashed a $10 in the air. "This take care of her?" The bartender nodded again. Carol watched Scott put the bill on the bar then looked at him as he took her by the arm and pulled her from the barstool.

He fairly pushed her out of the bar onto the sidewalk. He looked at her, her expression void. He thought maybe he could break her. He slammed her up against the wall of a storefront.

"Where am I going to do you?" His tone was hard, nasty.

She looked up at him, tears brimming around her vacant eyes. "I've got a room at the Plaza Inn."

He was hoping her response would have been something on the order of, "Please...I just want to go home." But she held out her desire for debasement stoically.

***

She opened the door to the hotel room. He pushed her into it. She cried out. She moved across the room and quickly stripped then stood before him in defiance, naked.

5'3" or 4", a cheerleader's body only about 34 years old now and anorexic, her face gaunt. Her breasts were small and firm, big nippled relative to the breasts. Her sex lightly furred.

"Turn out the lights." Even with the lights out there was some dim illumination from the street leaking past the drapes.

He stripped and came to her. He roughly felt her breasts then dropped a hand to her cunt. She was wet around her sex lips but increasingly dry as his finger tried to penetrate her.

"You're awfully dry Carol. You need some lubricant if I'm going to fuck you. Why don't you kneel and suck me?"

Her arms came up to cover her breasts. She looked down and to the side. Some of the harshness was gone from her voice. "I...I've never done that before..."

"Is that why you two broke up? You wouldn't give him a blow job?"

"That's none of your business."

"You're right. Just get on your fucking knees, you WHORE, and open your fucking mouth." He was intentionally cruel. He felt her harden for a moment then watched as she slowly knelt in front of him.

She gingerly held his half erect cock, examining it in the dimness of the room. She picked a couple of loose pubic hairs from his head then slowly licked it like an ice cream cone. She winced at the taste. She moved back to the head slowly.

"FUCK!" He yelled at her then took her head in his hands and rammed her head forward onto his cock. She struggled wildly. He got a couple of good pumps deep into her mouth then pushed her back. She lay on the floor, retching. She threw up.

Just as she had finished vomiting on the floor he reached down and picked her up by the waist.

"No! Please..."

He flung her to the bed and onto her belly. She started to struggle. He slapped her ass. Hard. She sobbed and her body went limp. He savagely pulled her up by the hips and mounted her. At first she was silent but with each thrust she sobbed a little more. His orgasm coincided with her complete breakdown.

She wept bitterly.

***

"There's an 11:30 flight. Gets into O'Hare at 12:45. She'll be on it."

"Who'd...who were you talking to?"

"Your mother."

She was silent. She rolled onto her back under the covers; stretched.

"You o.k?"

She looked at him. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, I'm o.k."

"Breakfast."

***

They ate breakfast in silence. She showered. They drove to the airport in silence. They stood at the boarding gate.

"Why?"

"Mixed purposes I suppose. You get over this divorce thing and put some weight back on, get a little blush back in your cheeks and you'll be Carol again. You're a real looker and I don't know how many times I imagined myself buried between your legs. So...I wanted to bang you. That's the bad reason I suppose.

“The other? Well...think of me as performing a service. You're not dead. You don't have clap, AIDS or hepatitis. You're not black and blue from head to toe. Think of me as taking you through a controlled crash - all the thrills and none of the dangers. Go home to your parents. Rest. Eat. See a shrink. Get on with your life.

“Fuck David. He's an asshole. Everyone's got an asshole – You don't need another one."

She smiled slowly. "Yeah. David. What an asshole." She giggled then tears welled in her eyes. "I sure could use the rest."

She hugged him.

"TWA service to Chicago now boarding at gate 22..."

"Well, gotta go."

"Yeah. See you sometime?"

"If you want to. You know where you can find me."

He watched her walk slowly down the jet way.

She didn't look back.