It was a calm night. Only a handful of customers had found their way into big ol' Tom's tavern; just a few people sharing some short episodes of their lives while having a beer or two. That was until a young woman in her mid-twenties appeared. Her shaky feet gave away her insecurity. Hesitantly, she was slowly heading for the bar.

“This is the bar. So that makes you big ol' Tom?” she hastily asked, her voice trembling.

The elderly man looked up while filling a pint for one of his customers.

Once sat down on a barstool, she went on, “Bring me a Whiskey coke. Nah... leave the coke, and fill the glass with just your cheapest whiskey. That's just for the comfortable buzz. And get me an additional beer, so I'll have something to drink while I tell every one of you my story!”

She had hardly finished her sentence as everyone rallied around her to listen closely to her words. She took a deep breath through her nose that she slowly exhaled, eyes closed, as if she were meditating. Only as her ears registered the characteristic sound of two full glasses being placed on the mahogany bar, she opened her eyes again.

“OK, listen up folks. 'cause here we go.”

----------

Where do I start? Maybe where it all began... Would make the most sense, I guess.

As every story about ruined friendship, it starts way back in time. I was best friends with the girl next door, Ann. And I emphasize 'was' again.

I was an only child. Well... I didn't have a sibling because both of my parents were hard-working people. I always knew that they were working for our family. I always knew that they were having themselves a hard time affording to raise a child. But I would always have preferred being poor, and having someone to play with over sitting alone at home for hours on end every single day. That was until we moved into that neighborhood; into the house right next to Ann's family.

Her situation was pretty similar to mine: she was an only child as well; and as it was for me, her greatest wish was to have someone to play with. The only difference there is that her parents had actually tried to have a second child... in vain. It turned out, someday, that her father was quasi infertile, and that the first pregnancy of Ann's mother had been a pure miracle.

I can remember the first time we met as if it happened yesterday. Oh my... I already sound like standing with one foot in the grave!

It was the day right after we had moved in. Ann and I were both nine years old. I was running around in our garden, humming some random melody, when, suddenly, I felt the presence of someone standing not far away from me. Our eyes locked. A smile flashed across both our faces from the sight of a hypothetical new friend. There weren't many children in that neighborhood—actually just the two of us.

Without hesitating, I ran back into our new home and yelled for Mommy. Of course, she allowed me to go over, and meet my soon-to-be friend.

Back in the garden, that other girl was the one to break the ice, “I'm Ann. But you can call me what you like. Except for Piggy, that's what Mommy calls me when I dirtied something.”

It took me a while until I figured out the name I'd call her from that moment on. “OK. I'll call you Annana, that sounds funny. I'm Sheryl, but call me what you like too.”

“Uhm... I'll call you Lala, because you were humming a beautiful melody.”

That was the moment when the foundation of a friendship unimaginably deep was built. I won't bore you guys off with too many details about our mutual childhood. That's not what I wanted to tell you about, so I'll quickly rush through the most important stages until I get to the point.

So, um... I spent the better part of the subsequent years in the house next door, playing with Annana. My parents were overly happy to have found someone for me to play with during my time alone. Annana's parents were happy too. I often had the feeling they were seeing something like a compensation for their inability to conceive a second child in me. However, it was clear to me that I had my very own parents.

The friendship between Annana and me grew deeper and deeper over all the years. I was invited to join them on vacation countless times. We did everything you can imagine together.

Then came the day my dad finally got promoted. From one day to the next, we belonged to the more wealthy people as well.

My parent's initial plan had been to move to a better part of the city as soon as we'd benefit from greater earnings, but they quickly realized what Annana and I had grown into. Thus, moving away from this neighborhood was out of the question. We stayed in that house, went on vacation on ourselves from time to time, always making sure Annana would join us.

Even as Annana and I grew older and started discovering our interest in the other sex at the age of sixteen or seventeen... Even then we remained the best friends you could possibly imagine. Whenever one of us had a crush on a boy, the other would test him out first. Oh yes, he had to pass the make-out test first. There was a time we even shared the same boyfriend. Yes, we also shared him in bed, but that's a whole other story. No reason to drool... not for now, at least.

And then, one day our ways parted. We had enrolled ourselves at different colleges. She went to study biology, while I had applied for business school. But, well, even the four hours' car ride that separated us wouldn't really keep us apart. We were sending each other letters and stuff and kept on seeing each other whenever we spent a few days at our parents'. We had to get used to not hearing from each other for a day or two.

So now it's time to get a little more serious here. As I said, we wouldn't hear from each other for a day or so. That was perfectly normal. But all of a sudden, there was one whole week of dead silence from Annana. I didn't receive any letter from her, not a single call. Just nothing. And she wouldn't pick up the phone either. Neither did her parents. So I decided to go check on them the next time I went to see my parents. As I came home that Friday evening, I found my parents, Annana and her dad sitting around the kitchen table, waiting for me to arrive.

Annana was the first to speak, “Lala, I'm really sorry I didn't answer your calls, but—” she didn't finish her sentence, for her voice was too heavy.

Her father had his eyes glued to the oak table as if he were analyzing each fiber of the wooden surface while my parents were patiently waiting for me to sit with them.

I left out the obvious 'what happened'-question, and let my mother answer it before I could even think of asking. “Sit down, Sheryl, darling. We have some horrible news to share. Our neighbor... Ann's mother has passed away.”

The shock hit me right in my guts. What had Mom just said? Linda, Annana's mother, had died? When? Where? How? So many questions...

“She got involved in a horrible car accident a few days ago. She still breathed when they took her out of the car wreck; however, the doctors said she was very unlikely to survive. They tried everything to bring her back. And this morning, her heart just gave up,” completed Dad.

I felt a sting in my stomach spreading across my chest right towards my face. It heated up my cheeks. I felt my eyes burn from the pressure on my tear sacs. The first tears ran over my face as I tried to look into anyone's eyes.

Annana was the first to stand up and hug me. No, it wasn't a hug. She almost crushed my body with her arms. Her embrace was an expression of sadness, anger and desperation—a cry for answers.

We all spent that weekend as one big family solacing each other, trying to gather our feelings. It was a great loss for both of our families.

Unfortunately, it was right in the middle of my exams. I had two weeks of them ahead, and then three months of summer vacation.

Having some spare time besides my summer job as a swimming teacher at the local open-air pool, I offered Annana's father, Jim, to call me whenever he needed anything or anyone to talk to. He gratefully accepted the offer since Annana was working on the same job as I did, but on different shifts. This way, he'd always have someone around to look after him, or, in need, lend him a shoulder to lean on.

Annana did call me frequently to have someone to just talk to, but Jim was different. It took him four weeks to finally call me, and ask me if I was willing to listen to his laments. That was the first time he had gathered the courage to call someone else than his daughter.

So that time, I went to see him right after my shift at the pool. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and I just had had a calm, lazy morning: just two boys who were really easy to handle. Well... Teenage boys sure are easy to handle if you're in your early twenties, and have a good pair of arguments under your bikini top, right? Oh yes, I can see you guys nodding!

The door flung open, and I saw a tiredly smiling Jim. He was happy to see me, but still, an undeniable sadness hung in his eyes. He hugged me closely and thanked me for coming over on such short notice. He offered me to have coffee and ice cream on his terrace; an irresistible combination with that hot weather.

We had a good chit-chat about nothing in particular. I was convinced that mentioning his lost wife would have been crude and indecent, so I eventually let him pop the subject from alone. He told me about the emptiness he sometimes felt creeping across his belly. He also talked about how he had been sitting beside her, holding her hand as her heartbeat slowly faded. He told me he realized more and more how much his wife had filled his life during their twenty-eight years of wedlock. Sometimes, he had to pause while talking, for tears started peeking out of his eyes all from alone.

During a short moment of silence, he looked at me, and said, “Listen, Sheryl. There's something you could help me with. Well... Only if you really like to. Ann wouldn't help me—I know that—but it's more of a symbolic act. You know, something to mark a fresh start. I just feel like it's time to leave all the sadness behind. And I think you can help me fix that.”

I replied with a puzzled look.

“There's an old wing chair downstairs in our basement,” he started explaining. “It's an old piece I inherited from my Grampa. Linda hated that chair. That's why it's in our basement, hidden from her gaze. But now that she's not here anymore, I can put it back in the living room. I don't ask you to understand, but I can think of it as a new start. Ann's gonna kill me, I know. She probably won't understand either. But that's OK. I'll figure out a way to explain to her.”

We went downstairs to get that stupid wing chair. I mean, he was a man in his early fifties who had just lost his wife. Whatever he wanted to cheer up. So what the hell?

The moment we intended to lift this rather bulky thing, I realized what I had agreed to. That thing had to weigh like a goddamn ton or so. That thing upstairs? You gotta be kidding me? The hell he was! It had to go upstairs.

“Better be worth it,” I thought with every single damn one of these fourteen steps I counted on the way up that stairwell.

Once we had that thing in the living room, I let myself fall onto it. I was totally exhausted. Jim's state, however, really impressed me. Although he was just a little more than twice as old as I was, he didn't seem to have had any trouble carrying that huge piece of junk all that way up. And me? I had thought I was the young and strong one among us? Don't think so...

“I think we earned ourselves something, huh?” he said, looking at me who was lazily lying on said chair.

No... You really couldn't call my lascivious pose sitting. My legs were spread apart enough to make the crotch of my hot pants clench my pubic area. Poor Jim had lots of trouble taking his eyes off it, but I was just too lazy to shift myself into a more decent pose.

“Let's grab ourselves a beer,” he finished his proposition.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but you'll get it. I won't move another finger for whatever you ask me today, old man.”

He laughed out loud and went to the kitchen to get those beers he'd been talking about. He came back with two ice-cold cans—no glasses. Why would we need those anyway? He sat down on the couch, facing me.

“Listen, Sheryl. I wanna thank you for helping me with this. It means a lot to me. And, well... How about having dinner with me and Ann? Let's say tomorrow night at eight? As a little thank you. Whatcha say?”

I agreed to his offer, for I knew what an outstanding cook Jim was. So I joined him and Annana for dinner the next day. That marked the beginning of us hanging out together daily basis.

Jim was a passionate chess player, and he offered me to play with him. I knew chess as well. I was lousy, but agreed anyway. So each day, we'd play our two or three games of chess. Jim was always sitting on his wing chair for each of our games. He had been right about the wing chair. Once he had somehow explained its meaning to Annana, it really started acting as something like a new beginning. He quickly started thinking less about Linda. And whenever he did, it was more distant. It was as though that old moldy chair was an anchor for a new beginning, just like he had said. Sure, it was ugly, and old, and muggy—call it whatever you want—but it was really comfortable. It just needed a little restoration here and there.

Eventually, it had become a habit of mine to go check on him as soon as I had finished my shift at the pool. We'd wait for Annana to come home from her shift, and have a good evening with her.

After a week or two, the relationship between Jim and me had turned into a very close friendship. He didn't actually need my support anymore, but we still kept on seeing each other. It was the games of chess. Both of us were really enjoying them.

As the weeks kept on rolling by, I started seeing another side of his. I started feeling attracted towards him. I started feeling a need to be close to him, the more I stayed with him. And then came the day I simply had to admit to myself that I had fallen for that man twenty-seven years my senior.

In the beginning, I thought this was just a momentary rush of hormones, a phase, nothing to be really excited about. I tried to lock these feelings away by constantly telling me it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Little did I know that these feelings haunting me were just the beginning of this tragedy.

I didn't tell Jim. I didn't want to startle him with my twisted little hormonal issues. There were many arguments speaking against us being lovers—too many. He had just lost his wife, so why confront him with my meaningless feelings? But more importantly, he was the father of my blood sister. She would never ever forgive me—never! Keep that line in mind, folks.

So I tried my best to remain casual whenever I went to see him. I remember all those countless times I got friend-zoned by him. And every time, it felt like he was rubbing it in a little more. It was a horrible time. I was convinced that he had no clue about my feelings towards him.

That was until that one day I came over. Jim welcomed me with our usual hug. At least, I thought our daily embrace was nothing worth mentioning until I realized he held me closer than usual, and that he was lingering. Not for long though; just these few extra seconds that make the difference. Did he know about my secret crush on him? I started blaming myself for not acting casually enough. However, there were no further hints in his behavior that suggested he knew. Maybe I was just being hysteric about that one insignificant event? Yes, I was. Or no, I wasn't? I didn't know, but it filled my head with an endless flood of thoughts.

After three games I lost very badly due to my never-ending stream of distracting thoughts, I excused myself, and almost ran to the bathroom. A loud slamming noise was heard as I shut it behind me. I looked into the mirror to find my pale face. I put both my hands on the sink, and leaned on it. I lowered my eyes. It took me two deep and slow breaths to be able to look into the mirror again. Then I adjusted my tiny skirt.

I don't know why, but I had chosen my whole outfit tighter and skimpier than usual. I had been thinking of Jim while picking it. Anticipation? Post-juvenile naiveté? Just the thrill of making that poor old man crazy? I don't know... I finally turned around and walked back to the door.

As my hand touched the doorknob, I felt a cold shiver running down my spine. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as if electrified. A warm feeling spread across my belly right to my groin. My pussy inexplicably flooded my bikini bottoms. My heart was pounding furiously as I hesitantly pulled the door open.

Shock! Jim was standing right before me, his hand clenched to a fist, hanging in the air, as though to knock on the door. Neither of us spoke a word. My lips moved, but they didn't make a sound. His mouth loosely hung open, slowly closing. All the thoughts that had haunted my mind suddenly blacked out. My head was completely out. Blankness.

He did the move. Yes, it was him. He kissed me. I was so surprised that I couldn't even return the kiss. It was just a shy and quick peck, hardly even touching my lips. My eyes couldn't find what to look at. I was confused.

“I'm so sorry, Sheryl,” he hastily said, “I just couldn't... I just couldn't resist... I couldn't hold it back anymore.”

I tried to open my mouth. My head was still blank. The moment I decided that actions told more than words, my hands found their way to both his cheeks from alone. I pulled his face towards mine and returned his initial kiss.

I still held his face in my hands as I whispered, “I love you, old man. And now just kiss me.”

My words flicked the switch. The next thing I remember is us making out like the hungriest, hormone-driven teenagers you could possibly think of, pressing our bodies into each other. It was a moment of pure lust. But still, we wanted it to be precious.

Jim breathlessly interrupted the kiss to say, “I love you too, Sheryl. I've been carrying these feelings for weeks now. I was so afraid I'd destroy what we have built during the past two months.”

“Shut up, old man, and take me to bed. Or no... Just fuck me right here and now!”

That being said, there was no holding back anymore. My wish was his command. Oh boy! Since I only wore said skirt, he only had to turn me around, and tear my bikini bottoms to the floor. I sighed as he did and bit my bottom lip, letting him know I was ready for him. A rich scent of a female lust came from my crotch that was already glistening with juices. This only emphasized my willingness to be treated hard and rough by Jim's rigid pole.

I put both my hands on the wall, leaning onto it, spreading my legs apart to present my pussy to Jim's sex-crazed eyes. He wasted no time at all staring or fingering, he just undid his fly and shoved that huge cock of his right up my pussy.

I felt what my past lovers had failed to give me: experience. Not that I ever had the feeling I'd been missing something. It's just that I hadn't ever felt so well-pleased in my entire life. He knew how to handle his over-sized meat. He was pounding me so hard I felt the floor tremble every time his hips slapped against my ass. The mere thought of it makes my pussy overflow again. If only he were here right now...

Oops, I guess it's the alcohol speaking, hahaha.

Where was I? Well... Considering his additional fondling on my clit with his expert fingers, I didn't make it too long. That shuddering orgasm... It felt so great! He came right after me, shooting his entire load all over my ass.

I turned around right after he was done cumming to resume kissing him. This time, the kissing was less wild. Both of us had satisfied our most urgent needs. I kicked my bikini bottoms aside; I wouldn't need them anymore that day. Oh no, I sure wouldn't need them.

Hand in hand, we walked back to the living room. The last game of chess was still set. My king laid down across the board as a testimony of my earlier defeat. We quickly put the game away and sat on the couch. It felt cool under my bare ass cheeks.

We had a lengthy discussion about us, our relationship and especially about Annana. We came to agree that we should keep this secret from anyone, especially from her. We were pretty sure she would take it the wrong way, and would most likely want to rip my head clean off. There was no way she should know about our new and fresh dirty little secret.

A while later, Jim went to the kitchen to grab us some beers. I followed him silently. As I peeked into the kitchen, he was standing in front of the sink, looking out of the window. He was standing there right in front of me, his back turned to me. I sneaked upon him and hugged him closely from behind. I could feel his warm male back, his muscles, his shoulder blade where I lay my head to rest. I closed my eyes to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart.

His heartbeat slightly accelerated as my fingers delicately unbuckled his belt. His fly was open in one smooth motion of my left hand alone. I slid my right hand under his boxer briefs to grab hold of his swelling cock. In just a few strokes, it was rock-solid again, begging to be released from its cotton cage.

Jim's trousers glided to the floor. I slid my hand away from his crotch so he could turn around. He kissed me hungrily, almost devouring my lips, biting them, sucking on them. Our tongues found to one another and entangled in a wild dance that only stopped as he resumed his nibbling on my lower lip. My mouth fell open from a low but delighted moan.

He put his hands on both my sides and lifted me up. I was sat down on the stove. My legs parted from alone. His eyes opened wide in lust as they fell on my juice-coated labia. Another kiss was planted on my lips, the next on the corner of my mouth, then my cheek, my jawbone, my neck. Electrifying feelings ran down from my spine directly to my groin. I desperately wanted his lips to suck on my pussy lips, his tongue to play with my clit. The more frustrated my moans became, the slower he approached said desired area.

God, this was pure torture. It was the sweetest pain I had ever felt. It was the longest moment of agonizing patience I had ever lived. My pleasure, my delight, my orgasm were all subjected to his mercy.

As he finally—oh yes, finally—reached my swollen petals, the tension alone made me cum all over his face. The pleasure was so intense—a never-before-felt experience. This man just knew how to handle the young woman I was. Mmh... You can't imagine how good it felt to be treated this way. And that was only the foreplay, so nothing really worth talking about, right?

I bit my lower lip as he lifted his face from under my skirt. I pulled him forcefully towards me, and almost devoured his lips, now coated with the flood of my pleasure. For the very first time, I realized my own juices didn't taste so bad after all. Tasting my own vaginal secretions actually turned me on even more.

I got rid of my skin-tight tank top, revealing my well-formed bust, now only held by the thin fabric of my lush green bikini top. My erect nipples were pointing through the elastic tissue, eagerly waiting to be played with. Jim kissed my cleavage. My hands slid under his hair and pushed him to my chest. His kisses were tickling me in a very pleasurable way. He resumed his gentle kissing and sucking from before.

As he hit the border of my bikini top, he flicked the clasp open. The top fell to the floor across my tank top. Jim's kisses got more urgent. I felt his hands gently pulling me towards the edge of the stove.

The head of his cock brushed against my slit. It was probing between my slippery pussy lips. Only a few movements and he had found the entrance to his deepest desires.

With a devilish smirk on my face, I pushed him back. My turn to return the sweet agony I was given before. My turn to let his body crave for the orgasmic pleasure of release. My turn to show him I could be unbearably patient just like him. Everyone who has ever had the power of deciding when to push their lover over the edge knows exactly what I'm talking about, right? That feeling of having your lover literally 'by the balls'... Indescribable.

Jim's cock was all mine, and it was up to me what to do with it. He was at my mercy. I decided to have that mercy, but I also decided to let him wait, to let his body beg for it, to hear his whimpering voice so desperate in the need for release. He played along. What a game... Me, the dominatrix over his body and pleasure; him, my little pet, willing to do whatever I asked for just to come to his final release.

His hard meat stood up in proud glory, only waiting to be treated with the uppermost tenderness only the lips of the young woman I was were able to give. I knelt down on the floor in front of him and grabbed his cock firmly with my hands. He supported his weight on the sink and threw his head back. I licked the underside of his shaft with only the very tip of my tongue. Up and down, up and down, all the while lubricating his swollen mushroom head with his pre-cum by using my thumb. Then I planted a tender kiss right on the tip. Then another one, sucking just a little. And another one, sucking a little more. And again, now taking his head between my lips, and brushing over the tip with my tongue.

As his moans got louder, I swallowed his whole cock in one gulp. The surprise had the desired effect on him. His moans gave away he was about to splash his load in my throat. I had another plan. My hand gently cupped his balls, before squeezing them tightly. The shocking pain that shot all the way up to his eyes prevented him from ejaculating earlier than I wanted.

“Foolish old man,” I addressed him, stroking his still rock-hard shaft, “I'm not halfway done with you. Don't even dare to think I'll let you shoot your load just like this with what you've done to me.”

Now it was his turn to surprise me. His lips formed an evil grin, showing that he had made up a completely different plan. Let me just say that it didn't exactly match mine.

I was confused. He gently patted my head. I didn't dare to move, for his eyes had totally captured mine. His hands grabbed my hair and pulled them. I followed the painful pull and stood up.

“Don't think so. I'll shoot whenever I like,” he said with a sharp voice.

I swallowed. He motioned me back to the living room. The pain from his pull on my hair made tears shoot out the corner of my eyes. How stupid had I been? Had I really believed I could have the power over this man? I had obviously forgotten our considerable difference in age and experience. If someone was the master, it was him. If someone was to comply, it was me. If someone was to be in charge of their counterpart's pleasure, it was him. If someone was to be the pet, it was me. The hierarchy was so obvious. How could I ever have doubted it? No chance.

His strong arm placed me right on the couch. As he let go of my hair, I was on all fours, my ass to his full view. I felt his hand caress my soft flesh. And then SMACK!! I threw my head up with a loud scream. I looked back into Jim's face.

“That's for trying to take the lead, little girl.”

He paused.

“And now beg me to fuck you from behind.”

I grinned in delight.

“Oh please, old man, please. Fuck me. I beg you! Please use me as your little slut.”

I know, it's just ridiculous; but at that moment, saying these words just felt so hot. It made me so horny to obey his requests. My pussy was so wet that a considerable stream of my juices dribbled down my inner thighs. And then I felt it: his cock slid all the way into my slick and juicy cunt. He was taking his pleasure from me. And I was receiving mine.

Loud moans filled the living room. We were in a mutual trance, lost in the expression of our deepest carnal desires. However, in the back of my mind, I was already elaborating a new revenge plan. I really had to pull myself together if I really wanted to follow my payback plan.

This time, like before, just as he was about to reach his orgasm, I reached out for his balls and gave them a rather firm squeeze. He looked at me in painful disbelief. Never—and if I say never, I mean never—never would he have expected me to renounce to my own orgasm just to pay him back. I threw him on the couch and impaled myself on his cock.

“Who's laughing now, old man?!”

Wordlessly, he placed both his hands on my hips, lifted me just two or three inches, and started pounding me with the fury of a bull. My whole body turned limp. I involuntarily rolled my eyes up.

“Oh my fucking goddd!! Oh, Jim! Oh, fuck, Jim! You're gonna make me cum!”

He grinned, still keeping his rhythm steady.

“I guess it's still me who's laughing, little girl. Or shall I rather call you 'filthy noncompliant slut'?”

“Oh yesss! Yesss! Give it to me! Give it to me! Jim! Oh, Jim!”

Both my hands landed on his chest. My nails dug into his flesh as my orgasm neared its high. The closer I came to this mind-blowing climax, the more I ripped his skin open. He cried out in pain. I had no control over the movements of my hips anymore. The lewd sound from our united sexes continuously slapping against each other echoed through the living room. Only a handful of well-placed strokes kept me from my final release.

“I'm back! Uh, what's this smell... Oh my god!”

Annana's silhouette appeared right beside us as she stepped into the living room. And that was the moment she saw me kissing her dad. Well... Not only kissing. Her dad's dick was filling me to the brim at her full view, pulsating as it shot stream after stream of his steaming seed deep into my womb.

Silence. Shock. None of us dared to move. Had we lost track of the time? Sure as hell we had. Jim and I looked at each other, unable to gather the courage to turn our eyes to Annana who was obviously disgusted by the situation.

“Oh my god,” she repeated once, twice, three times, I didn't count how many more times. Her voice got lower and lower, heavier and heavier each time she repeated these three words until it was just a whimper. That was the moment I finally turned my head around to see her. What had we done? What the hell had we just done?

Her teeth were pressed together. She couldn't decide whether to cry out loud or to kill us both. Before she could come up with anything to say or to do, the first tears ran down her cheeks. I jumped up to her, only to get hit by a slap so heavy it could have knocked some of my teeth right out if placed right.

I slowly turned my head to look at her furious red face. That color, that fury, that pure expression of rage in her eyes. Believe me, guys, I'll never forget that moment...

Another slap forcefully turned my head to the other side. I caught her hands by her wrists before she could land the third slap. Her rage was instantly interrupted by a deafening scream, followed by a flood of tears. She sank to her knees. I still held her now flaccid wrists in my hands.

“You serious?”

She paused.

“You fucking serious?! Answer me, goddammit! Are you god fucking damn serious?! You bitch! You filthy little fucking whore! Get away from me!”

She paused again to gather her breath.

“How dare you use my Dad?! How dare you take advantage of his vulnerability?! Why?! Why him?! Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” Her voice cracked.

“Annana, I...” was all I managed to say.

Her voice was clear and sharp. “Don't you call me that ever again, you hear me? Fuck off! Fuck off and die!”

“Ann, listen,” Jim tried to say.

“Shut the fuck up, Dad! Can't you see she only used you?”

My eyes were swollen and red. They burnt like hell. I didn't want to hear any more of this. I ran out of the living room, gathered my clothes in the kitchen, and got dressed as quickly as I could. I just ignored Jim's voice calling out for me to stay. I ran over to my parent's house, and into my room.

----------

“...and that's where I decided to come here and share my story with you guys, rather than to keep on crying the whole night long,” the young girl finished, before adding, “So, yes... This whole story escalated this afternoon.”

Silence filled the tavern.

“So now I'm here, getting drunk, and sharing my most intimate stories with some attentively listening strangers. Ain't that funny, huh?”

Sheryl looked around to see all the open-mouthed faces. She was smiling to herself.

“And now that I'm pretty wasted, who wants to fuck me good, and make me forget all of this? At least, for a little while.”

No one followed her demand.

“Come on, guys, it's just for tonight. And then you can throw me away like an old toy. It's what I deserve for what I've done to poor Annana.”

Sheryl turned to the bar, mumbling something that sounded like “only boring guys here.”

She took her empty glass in her hands and rolled it between them. A few of the customers rolled their eyes. Some of the others didn't know what to think, and the ones left were obviously looking forward to a good screwing. They had their eyes glued to Sheryl's breasts.

One of them was about to make his move and order her another drink as two new people entered the tavern.

They walked straight towards the stool where Sheryl was sitting. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder, so she turned around to see who was the guy she thought would be willing to take her offer. In her buzzed state, it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust. They widened as she realized who the two people standing right in front of her were. It was Jim and Ann. The surprise shook Sheryl awake instantly.

Ann's eyes were glistening with tears. “Dad's told me everything... I'm so sorry, Lala!”

Bursting out in tears, Ann almost flung her body all over Sheryl. She took Sheryl in her arms and pressed her to her chest, repeating that she was sorry over and over again. Sheryl couldn't help join Ann's crying.

All the former listeners had watched this scene as attentively as they had listened to Sheryl's story. One of them started applauding. Another one joined in, then a third one. Before long, all the present customers had grasped what had just happened and joined the applause. The girls parted from their reconciliatory embrace and smiled at each other.

“How did you find me?” Sheryl asked.

“Not important,” Ann replied.

Sheryl leaned over to the bar, to kiss big ol' Tom on his cheek.

“Thank you, big ol' Tom... For listening.”

His thick mustache hid his smile, but his raised cheeks gave it away. He nodded towards her.

Sheryl took both Ann's and Jim's hands. The three of them headed out of the bar.