I had another date with Wes last night. I was nervous, I knew it was a big deal, but I didn't puke or pass out or call it off or anything.
I prepared myself. The last time we met, he basically told me he wanted to pay me to be his girlfriend. The more I think about it the more it makes sense. I like being around him, he's really handsome and I can see a lot of girls giving him looks when we're out together. But he's always focused on me and that both makes it weird and nice... because he sees me as more than just a set of tits, it makes me comfortable. Part of me has been thinking I should just try to be his girlfriend for a while now. He deserves it, if he wants me. I just don't know if I deserve his attention.
I was scared of sex. I'm scared about how he kinda makes me want it. I've barely played with myself since I've been on the meds, but ever since he kissed me, I can't help but think "Oh yeah, no wonder he wants me, look at what I look like." I'd wanna see me naked, if I didn't already see it every day. I spent all week watching porn in my spare time, thinking about how easy it could be... just lie back and let him do it to me. I could do that, he deserves it.
I kept thinking about Anthony. This is basically the same thing as what he did with Blake. Except he was doing it for me, and now he won't have to. I can quit modeling and still pay for stuff. Plus, if he could suck it up and let some guy bang him, I could too.
Anthony told me she didn't think it was a good idea. She said it would get to a bad spot if I ever felt like I owed Wes, and it might be hard to get out of the arrangement to go back to Maine. I told her it wouldn't be a problem, and I'll probably figure it out. She's pretty mad at me, but I think she's just arrogant, thinking she can make all the plans and make decisions for everybody. I'm feeling better than I have in months. I knew I could do this.
I still wasn't sure what I was gonna do when I saw him. There was still a chance I was gonna chicken out. I spent all day putting on an outfit... I shaved my legs and my pussy, picked out a nice pair of lacy panties and crammed myself into a tight red dress. Six months ago I wouldn't even look at that part of Clara's wardrobe. Now, with my boobs popping out the top of my dress and the curve of my hips stretching out the fabric, I knew exactly what he was gonna think when he looked at me. I even used some of the makeup tips I got from the girls at the modeling agency, wearing lipstick and painting my nails. I needed the costume to be complete.
He arrived at 8. As soon as we sat down I was squirming. I didn't wanna eat. I wanted to get this over with. I wanted to know. I nodded my way through the conversation, looking at his eyes and watching him eat, listening while he told me about his business trip to China, but I was only halfway through the meal when I said "Let's get out of here."
"Are you sure?" he said.
I was downing wine all night. I couldn't eat my food. I needed to leave and I tried to sound as nonchalant about it as I could but I think a little hiccup of excitement got in there.
"You get the check, I just need to use the ladies room."
I was a bit wobbly on my feet, but I figured I just needed to walk it off. I don't do a lot of drunk walking in heels, so I tried extra hard to make sure I didn't faceplant into someone's dinner. I got to the washroom and ran some water to splash on my face.
The girl in the mirror didn't seem like me. I'm used to seeing myself looking normal, with my hair messy and my face plain and my clothes comfortable. The girl in the mirror was gorgeous. I hardly ever look anymore, but I took a second to stand with my chest sticking out, my hips curved... I wasn't me anymore. I wasn't there. I was just watching Clara's life. It's like a video game... I'm in control, but it's not really me.
I smiled at her and flecked my hair out of my eyes.
Next thing I know, I'm in the car watching the streetlights overhead.
"Are you okay? Are you sure about this?"
"What's my name?" I ask him.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm Clara."
He pulled into his parking space. I leaned on him in the elevator up to his condo. I remember my hands were on his waist. I even put my fingers in his front pocket. He was hard, but keeping his cool.
We got to his door. "Want anything to drink?"
"No, I'm good. Hey look at me."
When he looked, I reached behind and unzipped my dress. It fell to the floor. I was standing there in my bra and panties. All I could think was how hot I'd look in a red teddy or something, I love when girls wear that shit. I knew he would've liked it too.
"What do you wanna do with me right now?"
He smiled "So many things."
"Let's take it slow though, okay? I've never... I mean, it's been a while."
Then we were in the bedroom. I let him take my bra and panties off me, and then I was naked, and he wasn't yet. I laid back and let him play with me... tried not to think about how weird it was that some guy was getting his fingers all over me... teasing my skin, making me all wet. I was shivering. Something was so wrong but so good about it. I had to let it keep happening. It was killing me! I remember thinking how weird it was to let a guy kiss me.
I couldn't look when he took it out. Outside of porn, it's been a while since I've seen one, and I couldn't bring myself to look. It's just instinct, you don't stare at another guy's junk.
I laid back and let him come over to me. By then I was ready. I wanted it to happen. I was feeling so good and so ready... and then I don't know.
I woke up the next morning, naked in his bed with his arm around me. I felt frozen in place like stone. I had to completely rebuild the night in my head later, and when it got to the part where he got naked, it just... blacks out.
I would remember, right? If I let him do it to me, I wouldn't just forget... but I can't remember the end of that night. Just a glimpse of him in the darkness, and then nothing, but sleep I guess. But I can't even remember what it felt like, if he did anything. I just can't believe my body conked out like that.
I snuck out and took a cab home trying to shake this feeling that something bad happened... I mean, I was ready for it. I wanted him to do it. I've had plenty of nights I can't remember, but for some reason, this all just feels... wrong. I really don't like how this all played out.
Missing time is a sign of a variety of dissociative disorders. But unless this happens to you regularly I'd say its the alcohol.
So what's been happening?
Post a Comment