Disclaimer: Not my best effort and needs some editing but I am drunk and tired of endless revision. I have not written anything for a while so thought I'd better just toss it out there and hope for the best. All characters are over 18 (if that is not immediately obvious)
1
Kate had an unfortunate tendency to attract assholes. Everyone who knew her wondered why a bright young woman who was sprinting her way up the corporate ladder always ended up with such unequivocal losers.
From the greasy haired lout who thought nothing of sipping a beer behind the wheel of his rusty Dodge to the bitterly divorced software salesman that called her a stupid bitch at a company dinner, her dating life had been a parade of low expectations and frequent misogyny. It was baffling to a woman as promising as Kate, an unfortunate flaw in her DNA, like a predisposition to alcoholism.
Her best friend, Bianca, often joked about holding an intervention and tried her best to fix Kate up with some better candidates but somehow Kate still ended up in one degrading relationship (if you could call them that) after another.
Whether it was bad luck or low self esteem (so common, Bianca would opine, in seemingly successful women) something was seriously wrong with her. She was an asshole magnet. The girl most likely to end up in a serial killer's freezer.
Neither her friends nor her family could figure out why Kate kept making these terrible choices. Kate herself would shrug and change the subject whenever anyone started to probe too deeply. She did not want to reveal the secret addiction that was both a source of shame and the only way to appease a nebulous hunger that could only be satisfied by a pair of rough hands grabbing her ass or bending her over an ashtray littered coffee table with zero regard for her consent. If there was one thing no one needed to know about her it was that nothing got her wetter than a cruel and humiliating fuck.
Of course she knew it was not at all healthy and had to stop. For one thing, she was not getting any younger. What had seemed daring in her twenties now, at thirty-two, revealed itself to be reckless and more than a little sordid. She had maybe three years (tops) of good skin and a tight ass before sagging and wrinkling would begin to be noticeable. Soon she would be one of those women, perched on a lonely bar stool, a little too drunk for dignity, showing too much cleavage that no one was interested in.
But it was not because of the inevitable slide into desperation that these adventures had lost their luster. What really depressed Kate was how each and every one of the men who's savagery she had counted on had proven weak and not up to the task of abusing her the way she longed to be abused. Eventually, every one of them had cracked and revealed an all too human side. One even had the audacity to fall in love with her.
Inevitably she would lose patience with their mediocre brutishness and revert to her self-possessed public self. It was discouraging to see how easy it was to obliterate their bluster with a few well chosen words.
What she needed to do, she told herself, was grow up and face reality, no matter how distasteful or dull. She took a sip of her overpriced negroni and let the bittersweet warmth of it wash over her as she surveyed the bar from the booth where she and Bianca were having their monthly girls night out.
The bar's male demographic did not show promise.
There was an older man with game show good looks trying to chat up the 20 something waitress and an assortment of middling suits trying hard to impress. The bartender's tattooed arms drew her attention for a moment but she shook her head and gave herself a stern 'no'.
"I hope you won't be bringing a creep to the wedding," Bianca said. She was still pissed that Kate had shown up at a barbecue with some guy who openly propositioned every woman there, including Bianca's seventy year old grandmother.
"Don't worry. I am between creeps right now. Order me another one of these." Kate set her empty glass down on the table and made her unsteady way past the bar to the bathroom where she took temporary refuge in a shiny and luxurious stall.
She did not need to see herself in the floor length mirror just outside to know that she was starting to look a bit dilapidated. Her build, which had always been more athletic than curvy, was morphing into a boxy shape suitable for short, iron gray curls and orthotics. Her eyelids were developing a hint of creepiness and she could feel a couple of long, coarse hairs on her chin that she forgot to pluck before going out.
Dreary as the prospect sounded she needed to give up her slutty shenanigans. No more deep throating the sweaty cocks of construction workers in the cluttered cabs of their pickups or offering her holes to some loudmouth debt collector who wouldn't leave her alone in a hotel lounge. No more spreading her legs for any and all men who could channel that sweet toxic masculinity she craved.
No more four inch heels either, she told herself as she tottered her way back past the crowded bar. She wanted to go home, kick off the offending shoes and have a quiet glass of wine on the balcony. Maybe watch a movie or, better yet, read a good book for a change.
"Watch out!" A hand clasped Kate's elbow just as her ankle twisted, pitching her into a wall of cashmere.
"Sorry." She put her hand on a strong arm to steady herself. "I always forget that there's that step there." She fumbled her words looking up into a pair of unforgiving eyes. She blushed. "I've only had one drink," she offered though no one asked. "It's the shoes."
The eyes left her face and traveled down the length of her body until they stopped at the impossibly high heeled sandals on which she was trying to balance.
"You're right," the man agreed. "You should not be walking in shoes like that." He smiled. "You should be on your back. Or on your knees."
It took barely three seconds for the appropriate outrage to coalesce but it was three seconds too long. Kate wrenched her arm away and skittered back to her table, her body pulsing with unasked for excitement. Grateful for the drink that Bianca had not forgotten to order for her she downed it in a couple of gulps. What had she just spent ten minutes telling herself? Something about that man had annihilated her self control and her common sense in a way she had never experienced, even at her most reckless.
"Let's head to Oscar's Velvet Owl for old times sake" she suggested. "I'm hungry and I am missing those pizzas with the tiny pepperoni cups on top." Thankfully, Bianca seemed keen on the idea and it was a matter of moments before the bill was settled and they were on their way. Kate could feel those charcoal eyes following her out the door and even out onto the street. She was hungry alright, but not for any damn pizza,
Consider this a wakeup call, she reprimanded herself as she tottered her way to the curb and into an Uber. The encounter had revealed a whole new dimension to her potential downward spiral if she did not change her reprobate ways.
2
With enough determination almost anyone can turn things around.
Four weeks later Kate found her numb ass perched on some frosty bleachers waiting for a soccer game to end. She watched Jeremy miss yet another goal and tried to ignore her growling stomach. She wished she had thought to bring a flask of whiskey.
The soccer game was an odd choice for a third date but Kate suspected that Jeremy wanted to show off his athletic prowess, and his sinewy legs, in the hopes that they would finally fuck. Kate, for her part, was on board with taking things to the next level and was kind of wondering why Jeremy had not made a move. Maybe he sensed her indifference, or maybe the fact that she was several rungs above him on the corporate food chain made him cautious. Whatever the reason, Kate suspected she would have to be the one to get the sex ball rolling. The prospect did not thrill her.
"Hey!" Jeremy trotted up glowing with wholesome masculine energy. He was peak boyfriend material: handsome, ambitious (but not rapaciously so) and good hearted. He was the kind of man who would find a profitable way to reduce his company's carbon footprint and run marathons for charity on the weekend. Kate was annoyed at herself for not being completely smitten.
"Hey," she said, forcing a genial smile onto her face. "You must be hungry."
"Starving.." He looked down ruefully at the grass stains on his shorts. "Do you mind if we quickly go back to my place before dinner? You can decide where we want to eat while I'm showering."
Could this be it? Was Jeremy planning to suggest they call out for food so he could seduce her while they waited for the delivery guy? It seemed too good to be true but she was in. "Sounds good. Let's do it."
They headed for the parking lot, Jeremy's hand resting lightly on Kate's back.
"Jeremy!" A resonant and vaguely familiar voice stopped them in their tracks.
