Rileigh Unchained

On my way out of their apartment, I saw the man that we left in the bar sitting in the living room. It took a moment and then it all came rushing back to me. I would have been embarrassed about everything I had done in the last 12 hours if the rum had not kicking in.

"Well, at least someone in the apartment got laid" he said without a smile.

'fuck off' I said as I walked out the apartment. I made sure I flipped him off for good measure before I closed the door. I had to use the walls as leverage when I descended the stairs trying not to trip flat on my face.

Wow did that actually just happen? I tried my best not to lose consecration one my feet. "Holy shit," I said out loud to no one. "What was I thinking, starting my day off with half a bottle of rum. This should get interesting."

I stepped off the last stair and made my way across the lobby. I slowly pushed open the door trying not to hit the kid still passed out in the mud.

"You okay buddy?" I spoke softly and tapped him with my foot. "You dead?"

His legs twitched and a low gurgle rose from the mud in front of his face. "Oh ya," I said out loud with relief. "You're gonna be fine... hypothermic, but fine."

As I tried to walk I soon realized it was going to be a bigger challenge than I was hoping for, I sat on a bench in the quad and pulled out my phone to call a cab. I unlocked my screen, 27 texts, 14 new voice-mails and wouldn't you know it, 14 missed calls.

'Holy shit. Leave me alone.' I knew I shouldn't say that, they were worried for me. But I am a big girl and should be old enough to make my own decisions, stupid or not. All in all I count myself lucky for having such a family who's been there for me since... well, everything. I called a cab, then flipped through my texts. I didn't want to put up with voicemails right now. I felt shitty enough reading their words, I didn't want to hear their voices.

They were all from my parents and sister. I had five brothers, but they are guys. They knew I would call if I needed help which, I did on occasion. From needing a "DD" to helping me procure certain things while in rehab, they were always there. I thought they were the ones who took me to rehab as well until they denied the accusation of being so kind. I assume I was just picked up by a cop or something. I love them all; I just don't feel like talking to them.

As I flipped through the texts I found that there was a common theme, "Call me, Ashley called, trying to get a hold of you", "I left you a voicemail with Ashley's info, call me when you get a chance", "remember that nice boy, Xavier, from high school you used to know? I was talking to someone about him the other day. You should look him up, call me," and "Have you called Ashley yet?"

'The fat one?' I thought, 'oh yeah mom, I'm gonna jump up off my drunk ass and make my way back to sanity, and get him on the phone immediately.' I rolled my eyes and sighed 'Good Lord, yeah, I'm gonna take ya up on that. Oh hey, why don't you just set me up with every fat fuck on the block?' I thought about what I said and then put my head down. My chin touched my chest and started laughing, 'Dam, I'm funny when I'm drunk.' I laughed again, 'Fat fucks'.

The cab pulled up and I stumbled over to it. I know I use my sexuality more than I should, but damn if these idiots don't make it too easy.

He pulled up to my house, "That'll be twenty three even."

"Oh my God," I started to cry. "I left my wallet at the strip club."

He turned to look at me, "oh? You out partying it up?"

I arched my back and stuck out my chest, "no, I'm a dancer."

His eye's opened wide and I knew I had him on the hook. "I'm so sorry," I threw out my lower lip and pouted, "is there any other way I could make good on the cash."

Making an awful attempt to decline my offer, the man spoke just above a whisper, "umm... I can only accept cash or a... umm... credit card." Not once taking his eyes off my tits.

Taking that as my cue I slid my panties off, then opened the door and stepped out. Without saying a word I shut the back door and opened the front. Sliding into the passenger seat, I made sure to keep my legs spread, exposing as much of my cunt as I could.

I sat facing him and reached a hand up to tickle the back of his neck. "Now, are you sure there's no other way I can pay for the ride?"

The man didn't say a word. Thinking about it now, I probably could have walked away right then and there, no questions asked. But like I said, the powers of rum and other such magical liquids make me horny, as well as many other things. He was clearly of Middle Eastern decent and looked like he was fresh off the boat. This was further evidenced by his thick accent and the strange music blasting from the speakers. I just couldn't help thinking that he may need a lesson or two in American hospitality and I wanted to show him what it was like to get your knob bobbed by a fake stripper while sitting in your cab on a busy street.

Instead of leaving, I grabbed his hand and placed it on my knee. "There ya go," I said, still tickling his neck.

A small smile formed on his lips but he just stared at my slit, so I thought I'd help him out. "I know my under smile is nice and all, but if you unbutton those pants I can pay you back for the ride."

He was quick like a bunny and before I could blink he slid his pant down to his knees. It may have been the liquor, but this guy was packing. I took a double take, shaking my head and blinking my eyes to make sure they were not playing tricks on me.

"Holy shit dude," I said in disbelief. I brought my eyes up to look at him then back at his cock.

I leaned forward, bringing both of my legs up onto the seat. I knelt beside him with my head over his lap, slowly taking hold of his cock. It's been a great while since I've seen one this big, so I took my time. I slowly kissed the length of his cock from root to tip and could feel blood rushing through it in response.

I know it started out as some crazy chick trying to get out of paying for a cab ride, but I was actually enjoying myself.

I leaned up just enough to grab his hand with mine, and lead it around my body and placed it on my ass. His eyes opened wide and he tensed up, so nervous that it was like he was on trial for a murder he didn't commit. I took hold of his shaft once again.

"Don't be afraid to let that hand wander." I said, hoping it would.

He rubbed my ass, squeezing occasionally. I stroked his length while wrapping my lips around his crown. Together, with his hand on my ass, it sent a chill down up my spine.

I flicked my tongue across the flared rim his cock head then pulled off. "Put your fingers in me."

I put my head back down and slid my mouth over him. He hesitated, but soon his hand was trailing toward my pussy. Making the right decision, he dipped a finger inside me. That was fine for a bit, but soon one finger just wasn't doing anymore.

I pulled myself up and looked him in the eyes, smiling as to not offend him. "I'm all for sucking your hog, but honey, you gotta help a girl out. Use two or three fingers when you're inside me, and for the love of God don't forget about my clit."

I kissed him once more, and then returned to his cock. Up and down, I stroked his shaft with my mouth, fitting as much of him inside me as I could. Like a champ. He ran his fingers across my clit, making me moan. He changed things up and started again by using just one finger to enter me, but quickly tossed in another, followed by a third. I worked his cock with a purpose, aching to get off a second time this morning.

I wasn't too far away when he pulled his hand out of me and grunted. His cock twitched and before I could know what was happening, he filled my mouth with cum.

'Fuck' I yelled in my mind. 'How selfish is that? Taking your hand away from my pussy as you finish in my mouth.'

I pulled off and spit his product on the floor by the brake pedal. I leaned up and looked and him with a disappointing half smirk and shook my head. He was in the highest level of heaven and didn't notice when I turned around and scooted over. I opened the door and stepped out. I turned around but he was still in a trance, unable to recognize what was happening. I rolled my eyes and slammed the door shut.

I walked to my apartment thinking. "I need to stop drinking." That is really the only time I do things like this. The bad thing is that I spend most of my days drunk.

I stepped through my front door, throwing my keys and wallet on the table. What happened to me? I've never been like this sober. I don't know what it is, though I guess I know now why they call this stuff "Liquid Courage".

I fell asleep, but not for long. Three hours was all my mind could shut up for. I woke in a sweat and panic having had a dream about Grayson. It has been a while since I have dreamt about him. God, it was so clear. His face, his laugh, his touch were so vivid that if I had been a normal human being I would have cried. I hate days like this, and I had a bad feeling about this one. The dreams finally stopped after my therapy sessions with a few different psychologists that someone paid for.

My phone started vibrating, buzzing on the bedside table. "Oh God," I said out loud, slowly picking it up. It was another text from my mother, "Call me when you have a sec, worried about you, love ya." She was always so sweet, which made me feel worse about not wanting to talk to her, I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't like being alone but I just couldn't face anything right now, I think that's why I liked the bottle so much. It released me from thinking and kept my dark thoughts at bay.

--buzz my phone vibrated again with a text from my sister ,"hey are you going to let us hook you up with that kid from high school? Call me". Again with this; well, to be fair I guess they can't know I don't want to if I don't actually talk to them.

Fighting my instinct to be antisocial, I sent a short vague text to my sister. "I'll let you know. sorry I've been a bum, Ttyl." And another to my mom, "sorry, can't really talk now, love you too." They both replied almost immediately, "k, love you call if you need anything".

The only thing I need now is my son's memory out of my head, I hate being crazy. I know I am fucked up, I just can't figure out why. His face keeps showing itself to me and it's all I can do to survive.

I quite literally drank myself into the ground for the next three days. I barely slept, visiting the bars and fucking every guy I could. Which wasn't hard given the location in which I was looking. All in attempt to rid myself of a memory. Silly I know, but I drank like never before. It had been months, years even since I can remember that I lost my memory from drinking.

On day four, my mom came to visit. It was awkward at best. She didn't drink herself, but at least she understood what I was going through. We spent the first twenty minutes engaged in awkward small talk until I broke the ice.

I turned my body toward her on the couch to face her, "Look mom, I know you guys are upset that I'm such a shitty daughter, but it's all I can do to not try to off myself again."

Appalled, she gasped, "Honey no, I'm not here because we think you're a bad daughter." She placed a hand on my knee, "Rileigh, we just care about you. I came today to make sure you had everything you need, I don't care what you do to cope with the pain. Just as long as you're able to. I can't possibly know how it feels to go through all you have, and still be around to bless the lives of those around you."

On the brink of tears, I looked straight at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You may not see your family every day, but let me tell you this," she grabbed my hand, "you still touch every one of our lives every day. I love you sweetie, we all do." I started to cry and leaned over to place my head on her shoulder while she continued, "you take your time with whatever you need, and we'll always be here for you."

"Mom, I really do love you. Thanks for not hating me."

"Oh honey, you have nothing to apologize for." She placed her hand on my head.

It felt like something had clicked inside me, all of a sudden I felt like something needed to change in my life. Why or where this thought came from, I do not know. It may have been the guilt for avoiding my family and wanting them to stop calling me. But at the base of all this I felt that this talk with my mom was exactly what I needed

"Mom." I sniffled, "do you still have that number?"

Forgetting what she texted me a thousand times before she asked "Honey?" but then it suddenly clicked, or so I thought, "Oh... Xavier's number?" She said excitedly.

I giggled and lightly slapped her shoulder, "UGH. No, I meant Ashley's," I sniffled. "What other number have you been trying to get to me for the last week?"

She giggled, "Oh, I'm so forgetful." She reached into her purse to grab her phone, she scrolled through her old texts. "Ah, here it is. I'll wright it down for you."

I gave her a weird look, "What? No, just text it to me."

She giggled again, "Oh yeah, I forgot about that... Technology."

We spent the next two hours talking and catching up. She told me of my nieces and nephews birthdays that had I missed over the last four months, as well as everything else I've missed for that matter. It was good to talk to her again, it has been a while.

As I walked her to the door, she reiterated that fat that I could call for anything. Then she hugged me and I kissed her on the cheek. I don't like it when people do anything for me, it makes me feel weak. Like I can't do something for myself, but I appreciate her offering. I shut the door after she left and went searching for my last bottle.

'Shit,' I grunted in anger having just realized that I drank it last night. Out of booze, Houston we have a problem. I got dressed and gathered my things. I headed out the door for the nearest store with my favorite brand... "anything."

I slid my card, punched in my PIN and smiled at the cashier as I walked away with my beautiful new bottle. I stepped outside and pulled the top of the bottle out of the brown bag and using my fingernails, I tore through the foil covering the top. I put the opening up to my lips, but I just couldn't take a drink. The smell of the smooth liquor hit me and everything my mom and I talked about came rushing back.

"Fuck," I yelled out loud. Causing the few people entering and exiting the store to turn their head. 'Dammit mom,' I thought, I was perfectly happy drinking my life away.

A man entering the building took notice after I screamed profanities. Apparently, standing in public in your black leggings, holding a bottle of booze and cussing out loud is a turn on for guys... idiots. Okay, I don't hate men, I'm just angry about everything. The truth is I love men, well at least some of them. A few ladies walking by scoffed in disgust. I started back at the woman who pissed me off the most. I looked her right in the eye and yelled, "Fuck off bitch." She grunted and walked in the store, what a whore.

I tried to take another drink, but I failed at that attempt as well. "Shit," I yelled out loud this time just to screw with people, "Ya bunch a prudes."

My son's image popped into my head again, but it was different this time. I didn't feel like I needed to purge my mind of it right away so I let my body hit the wall behind me and crumble to the ground until I was in fetal position. It was still difficult seeing his image in my head like that, so I finally muscled down a gulp between the tears and then quickly twisted the cap back on.

I couldn't take it anymore. I headed to the bars to see if being around people would help, giving me a chance to get some alcohol in me.

To my dismay, after three shots while grinding on some guy, I lost my interest. I pushed him off me and headed for the door. Once outside and out of range of the loud music, I pulled out my phone and flipped through my contacts until I came to the one I was looking for. "Ashley", reluctantly I pressed call, not knowing what to say after almost three years.

"CGI Global, this is Ashley." She answered so formal, I was not use to that.

"Hey Ash it's..." recognizing my voice, she cut me off.

Almost yelling as she said "What the fuck dude? Where the hell you been all my life?" As though nothing had changed, that the three years we haven't spoken was just my imagination.

It was nice though, I stopped worrying once I heard her speak. "Hey bitch, how you been?"

She started laughing "Oh my God, I can't believe I'm actually talking to you. I've missed the living shit out of you." She paused to catch her breath, "I'm good, that's why I wanted to talk to you. But I'll tell ya bout that in a minute. What you been up to?"

Knowing that she'd be pissed if I ever lied to her, I didn't hold back. "Just drinking and fucking every guy I can find."

For a moment I forgot who I was talking to and thought I was going to get a response as though I was talking to my parents or bishop. But she surprised me, "Oh fuck yeah, man I haven't got my butter churned in a long fucking time." She took a moment and then continued. "So how you doing with all that, shit you've been dealing with?"

It was actually refreshing to talk with her, she just didn't give a shit about anything. "I'm keeping it in check."

"And your drinking?"

"Functional." That was only a half lie.

"Well then bitch get your ass on the next plane to DC, cause I got a present for ya."

I remained quiet for a moment, forcing her to ask, "What's up? I thought you'd be ecstatic."

I finally asked rhetorically, "Ash you... you know what's been going on with me the last three years right?"

"Ya."

"Do you really think I'd be a... a good fit, for this job?"

"Girl, listen to me. I've known you my whole life, and If I wasn't sure then I never would have recommended you. Remember, if you fuck up it's my ass on the line too."

I sighed, "You sure?"

"Bitch, please. As long as you're able to function and hold off drinking long enough to complete your assignment, then I don't fucking care."

"So what you think?" I didn't say anything, giving her a chance to speak again, to gauge her reaction.

I stayed quiet, mulling it over. Then suddenly it hit me, I quite literally don't have anything better going on in my life right now. "Alright, yeah, I'll be on the first flight tomorrow."

She screamed over the phone. "Fuck yeah you are. I'm getting on my laptop right now, I'll get your ticket and text ya the time. Just show up an hour early with your passport and slide it through one of the kiosks, and it'll print your ticket."

"Well, I guess I'll see ya tomorrow then." I spoke softly with almost no tone.

"What? If that's what you sound like when you're happy, I don't know if I wanna hear what you're like when you're sad or angry."

I smiled but said nothing. It did not matter though, she knew me so well that she didn't care. "K, be on that flight and I'll be there to pick you up when you land."

She hung up and left me confused. For the first time in years I wanted to have a conversation with someone that lasted more than the time it took to find out if they wanted to fuck me. I put my phone in my pocket and walked toward my apartment. Something just didn't feel right and when I reached my parking lot, I hopped in my car and drove to my sister's house. I didn't want to though; I knew all she would want to talk about was that tubby little fucker she wanted me to date. I wouldn't categorize myself as "shallow" but I do have standards, "And I don't care if he's rich." I caught myself thinking out loud again.

I parked curb side about two houses down and just watched. Through the window, I could see her and her family laughing and playing. God, I wanted to smash something. Their being happy made me so angry. I calmed myself and then rolled up to their house.