Tag Archives: Blanche White

Trip on This: Chapter Seven (Part Three)

Chapter Seven (Part Three)

I’m bored.  Even though I like women, there is nothing sexy about Ebony’s movement.  I can tell by the glazed look in her eyes that she’s on something and feeling very little pain.  She’s moving her ass mechanically, the same way she’s probably moved it a hundred times before.  Whereas Blanche had seemed real and alive, Ebony is merely robotic.  There’s no denying her good looks, but there’s very little heart to go with the looks.  Not that I blame her for zoning out.  Ninety percent of the girls on the street were on something at any given time to get through the night.  Those who got a cut of their profits usually snorted that money right up their little noses.  I smoked cigarettes, but nothing more potent.  Well, OK, heroin every now and again, but not very often.  What money I made, I saved.  Even when I was working seven nights a week, I knew that I wasn’t going to be in that life forever, no fucking way.  Even if I had to kill someone to get out, I would.  I was going to get out, and I was going to stay out.  Well, I did.  And I have.  And I will.

Vandalia and Greeley are groping each other under the table.  Either they think I can’t see them, or they don’t care that I can.  Greeley is close to coming, and it’s amusing to watch him try to keep it under control.  Hell, I’m tempted to give his cock a squeeze myself just to cause a little mischief.  I want to see the boy squirt all over himself just because.  Somehow, I don’t think Vandalia would appreciate it if I lend her a hand, though.  She might even kick me out of her apartment, and then I’d be shit out of luck.  I can’t go back to my apartment, and I don’t want to stay with Mowgli who is too easily identifiable as my friend.  I wonder when—if—there is going to be a connection made between an ‘unidentified Asian woman’ and the dead girl.  Angel.  And what’s up with the lying?  Why is Melody saying that Angel is on vacation, that she’ll be back?  Even if they don’t want it known that Angel is dead, why doesn’t Melody say she’s been fired or let go or that she left out of her own volition?  Speak of the devil, she’s returning with our drinks.

“Here you go,” she chirps, setting each drink carefully down on the table.

“Melody, you’re an attractive girl,” I say enticingly, crossing and recrossing my legs.

“Thank you,” Melody says automatically, flashing her dimples at me.

“Why don’t you sit a minute?”  I pat Mowgli’s empty seat, discreetly placing a twenty dollar bill on the table.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t,” Melody says, her eyes glued to the money.

“I’d really like you to,” I say, adding another twenty to the one already on the table.

“Just for a minute,” Melody agreed, sitting down.  The twenties disappear before her ass is even on the chair.

“How did you start working here?”  I ask curiously, inching closer to Melody.  I can see she’s uncomfortable with the attention, but I pay her no mind.  My goal is to make her think that I’m hitting on her so she won’t suspect deeper motives.  Vandalia and Greeley are openly making out which seems to add to Melody’s discomfort.

“Um, a friend of mine works here, too.  She told me about it.  Said I could make good money.  I want to go to State and study psychology.”  Melody has her arms crossed over her chest, but she drops them when she sees me staring.  She must have been told not to cover up her breasts which is a good policy if she wants to make money.

“How do you like it?”  I ask, letting my hand casually drop on her leg.  I idly trace a line up and down her thigh while appearing not to be looking at her.  She squirms minutely but remains still otherwise.  Someone has trained her well, though they should have told her not to give it away for so cheap.

“It’s OK.  It’s a lot harder work than I thought it would be.  But at least I’m not walking the streets.”  Melody pastes a smile on her lips as my hand inches further up her leg.  She has her legs slightly parted which is probably another dictum.

“Do the girls get along?”  I ask in my honeyed drawl, massaging her thigh firmly.  When she looks at me, I lick my lips—she quickly turns her head away.

“We’re one happy family,” Melody says brightly, pretending not to notice that my fingers are now at the edge of her shorts.

“Does Angel have any special friends?”  I ask, stroking Melody’s thigh in light, feathery strokes.  “I seem to remember being told that she and Blanche were really close.”  I can tell that Melody wants to close her legs, but she’s too well-trained to do so.

“Um, yes, they were pretty friendly,” Melody says, clutching the edge of her chair.  “They acted like sisters the way they were always giggling and gabbing.”

“Like sisters?  Not like lovers?  I’m just wondering if Blanche swings both ways.”  My hand is caressing her warm flesh at a greater frequency.  I teasingly stray further up her leg before returning to her thigh.  I don’t want to get her in trouble with the management which probably has a no-touch policy.  Of the merchandise, that is. Continue Reading