Ascending Lauren Ch. 15 (3.38) by SimpleEnigma,SimpleEnigma

Lauren tilted her head in bewilderment. Of all people…

“Hello? Yours used to be just a fantasy too.”

An awkward silence fell over the room. Corey paused. She’s not wrong.

Zipping the suitcase shut, he walked over to the closet. Eyes scanned her wardrobe until they landed on a pretty floral spaghetti-strap sundress.

“Here,” he tossed it to her, “put this on.”

“Why?”

“We’re going out.”

“But it’s Christmas night. Nothing’s open.”

“We’ll take our chances.”

+++++

The black SUV ride-share pulled up in front of the 24-hour laundromat.

“You sure you want this address, mac?” the ride-share driver asked a bit suspiciously, mentally noting neither of the fares had brough laundry with them.

Corey hesitated. During Lauren’s hooker revelation, he had tried to mentally piece together the approximately location of the infamous alley. But Little Havana was a big place.

“My mistake, can you just drive around a bit?”

The driver turned around and look over the very cracker couple in the backseat. “Gas ain’t cheap these days, pal, and I’ve got other customers waiting. How about you tell me what you’re looking for.”

“Is there any place hangout around here?”

Lauren looked at her husband curiously but didn’t say anything.

“Only a couple places tonight. One’s a tavern, and I guaran-fucking-tee you don’t want to go there. There’s a reason they put in a cop substation across the street. Other joint is a pool hall.”

“Billiards it is.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow. “Pool? C’mon, let’s just go home.”

Corey put a finger to his lips and remained stoic. There was something worrisome about his demeaner.

+++++

As the SUV’s taillights disappeared around the corner, the couple stood on the sidewalk gazing up at a blinking marquee advertising “Balls of Fun Here”. There was hardly a soul on the street, and they felt very, very alone. The only sensible option was to step inside.

With a deep breath, Corey pushed open the doors and stepped through the entrance. Lauren followed, her dress billowing in the warm draft. The hall was small and had just six rather basic tables with ratty purple cloth. The place was empty except for a rather unfriendly-looking Latino blocking another door at the far end the room.

“Can I help you with something?” he of them asked gruffly, clearly annoyed that they were even there.

“Need a table.”

“None available,” the hairy ogre said flatly.

Corey nodded, noting the non-existent crowd. “I can see that. Sorry, our mistake.” He didn’t see who he was looking for anyway. Grabbing his wife’s hand, he guided them back towards the front.

“Well, well, well.”

Lauren squeezed her eyes shut. She knew that voice anywhere.

“Is that you, Iowa?”

Glaring at her husband sideways, she dropped her shoulders in resignation and slowly turned to look see Juan standing in the doorway.

“Hey.”

“Good to see you again,” the Cuban smiled, moving closer. Another man followed him into the room. “This is Mendo, and you’ve already met Tajo. Merry Christmas!”

Lauren was silently fuming. “What the fuck are you up to?” she hissed at Corey from the corner of her mouth.

“Just wanted to meet your friends and see what you’ve been up to while I’ve been away,” he whispered back, grinning. “I deserve that much, don’t I?”

The project manager walked slowly to the big Cuban, hands up so the room could see them. He was acutely aware a gun or two may have been trained on him.

“Are you Juan?”

“I am,” the Latino answered without hesitation. “And you are?”

“My husband,” Lauren blurted out. “And apparently not a very bright one. Please don’t hurt him.”

Learning this, Juan squared himself to the older man. He’d faced a jealous husband a time or two and knew the situation could go south quickly. Mendo realized this too and placed a hand inside his vest.

“Have you come to do me harm?”

“Did you fuck my wife?” Corey asked matter-of-factly.

Every bit of oxygen was sucked from the room.

Looking at the brunette, Juan weighed his options. He could lie, but seeing as the jinetera had already come clean, that wouldn’t help matters. It would simply defer a confrontation to another time. A time when he wouldn’t necessarily see it coming. No, it was better to face this now, whatever the outcome.

“Yeah, I was with her. Best pussy I’ve had in a long time. Only cost me a buck fifty.” The words were meant to be inflammatory; if the yanqui was going to get froggy, he’d surely jump then.

When the old man didn’t, he added for good measure, “And I took her asshole cherry too.”

Corey clenched his jaw but remained under control. He was aware of only the three men, but there could be more. Mendo appeared to still be fingering a firearm. The room was very, very tense. The ball was in Corey’s court.

“Care for another go?”

Lauren felt faint, Juan began laughing, and Mendo looked nervous.

“Listen, it’s simple. My wife’s a prostitute, a whore. But you already know that. I figured with you and your buddies here all alone on Christmas, you might need a little cheer. You get to nut, she gets off, and I make a few bucks to put in the next kettle I see. Whatta say? Five Benjies for the lot of you?”

Lauren’s mouth fell open. Her heart raced as the men began to surround her, touching her long black hair.

“Is this true, puta?” Juan asked, tracing a finger along her bare shoulders. “You need more Cuban in your diet?”

“No! Corey, please let’s go.”

She watched as Corey collected five crumbled one-hundred-dollar bills and stepped towards the cue sticks.

“Go?” he asked, examining the condition of one tip. “You’re a whore now, right? Selling what you got in alleys?”

Lauren’s mouth was agape, but with her husband talking like a pimp and the men’s hands caressing her body, any resistance was rapidly melting away. Deep down, the embers igniting, bringing predicable heat to her pussy.

As Juan led his wife into the back room, Corey stopped and pressed several condoms into her small but sweaty palm. He could see the lust in her eyes. On the surface, she wanted to kill him, but deep down she wanted to cum even more. Looking over her shoulder just before the door closed, Lauren saw a piece of paper flutter to the floor and recognized it as the note he’d given her earlier that evening.

I O U

+++++

Alone among the tables now, Corey flipped the OPEN sign in the front window to CLOSED and sidled up to a table already racked with a standard eight-ball configuration. An eerie silence settled over the hall as he lined up the break. Just as the cue ball struck the 1 ball violently, scattering the others, a huge Cuban cock must’ve impaled the mom-turned-hooker in the other room, judging from the impassioned cries.

“OH GOD FUCK ME!” was all he could heard above the rear in-window air conditioner.

Corey applied more chalk and thought hard about the next shot.

Four ball in the side pocket.

+++++

“You BASTARD!”

The first water glass whizzed by Corey’s head, barely missing on its way to shattering on the apartment drywall behind him. A dish fared the same fate, although that did clip him on the arm.

“What gives you the right to whore me out?” Lauren screamed.

“Shh, the neighbors. It’s midnight!”

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