Fucked Up Circumstances

Story Info
When someone says 'bring someone'', listen.
2.6k words
3.76
104k
12
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

"Look Miss, I'm going to have to cut you off soon."

I looked up at the man with the voice and nodded my head in understanding. I knew he was right, so I didn't argue. Realistically he should have cut me off a long time ago. Perhaps the moment I sat down he should have looked at me and said. . . "No way, lady you are already too far gone." But he didn't. After all, when I walked in I wasn't drunk, I was sober. I wasn't shaking, or staggering, or even muttering words incoherently. With the exception of the red eyes, puffy nose, and tear stained cheeks, I looked like a woman who had her senses in tact. I didn't though. My senses were on the edge of devastation.

He poured another shot of something into my glass. I say something because I told him I wanted to be numb when I left, told him to call me a cab when it was time to leave and told him to serve me the strongest thing he had and then walk away. This man didn't know me. No one in this city knew me. I was there alone. I shouldn't have come here alone. I shouldn't have told myself. . . "You can do this by yourself. No matter what the doctor says, you can do this alone." I was wrong.

Another swallow of burning amber slipped down my throat and then it happened, the bliss was there. If you have been in this situation you know the feeling. . . the feeling where nothing exists. I reached it. I was numb. "Thank you Jesus," I muttered quietly.

"I don't think he's listening," a voice whispered in my ear.

I had my eyes closed and I thought to myself, "No shit Sherlock." But I didn't say it. I opened my eyes and turned to the left to stare at the man beside me. "Can I help you?" I asked, unafraid to show my hostility to the stranger. How dare he interrupt my conversation with myself.

"No, but I think I can help you?" he told me.

I chuckled. It felt foreign, this laugh I gave him as I watched his eyes move across my face. I turned away and finished another drink. I waved the bartender over and he sighed. "Ma'am I. . ."

"Give her one more Doug, it'll be her last one tonight. I'm off duty, but my cab is outside and I'll take her home," the voice beside me said.

"Good idea," the bartender muttered and poured me another. "She's fucked up, but I don't know why."

"Yeah, I've been watching," the voice said back.

I sat there listening to them talk about me as if I was so far gone my hearing was impaired. No, it wasn't. I could hear everything. I could still hear the sound of the man who'd ruined my life in my head, even now that I was numb.

"Missus Croft, I wish you had brought someone with you. It isn't my policy to give this kind of news alone."

I took a drink.

"She's maybe got six months."

A hot tear welled up and another swallow went down.

"At her age, this type of thing just. . . well. . . it just moves so fast through her system. If we'd caught it earlier than maybe. . . But she's young and her body just isn't able to fight this."

I see the bottom of the glass.

"I'm sorry. . .Let me call someone for you."

One last swallow empties the glass cylinder and destroys my life.

"Lady, it's time to go," the voice beside me said with great authority.

I turned and looked at him. "You drive a cab?" I asked.

"Yeah, I have for thirty-five years."

"That sucks," I told him.

"It has its days. Come on. I'll take you home," he answered.

"He's got my keys, though," I pointed to the bartender.

"No, Doug gave them to me already," the voice said and then he grabbed my arm.

I looked at his hand and then back up at him with a raised brow. He removed his fingers and stepped back as I climbed off the bar stool. I stumbled into him and bit down on my lip as I felt the arms of a stranger embrace me. I didn't want that. I didn't want human contact. Didn't this man know that? Couldn't he see that touching me meant I had to feel? My fingers curled into his chest and I shook as my body slowly began to collapse. I felt him hold me up and slowly walk me from the bar. The tears hadn't fallen yet, but they were about to. I could feel them welling up again and then the cold, crisp air hit me. I shook violently from the blast and sobered for a moment.

I still clung to this stranger who was leading me out into the florescent lit parking lot. I watched us move across the paved ground as if I wasn't really involved, but I was an observer. I was detached from everything now, nothing mattered to me, I wasn't involved, I was the audience about to watch a tragedy unfold.

"Here slide in and tell me where you live," the voice said.

"I live about three hours from here, but I have a hotel room, because the appointment was really late and I didn't want to make the trip back right away if it was bad news," I heard myself say.

"I see the news was bad," he whispered and settled my legs in the backseat of his car and then buckled me in. His hand slid along my thigh and I felt the first wave of shock roll through me. My mind screamed sober up you fucked up drunk. The other part of my mind screamed for me to just ignore him, he'll go away. I said, "Yeah, my daughter is dying and I can't save her, now leave me the fuck alone."

"Damn," he muttered in an a way that told me I hadn't offended him. The door was closed on me and I watched him slip into the spot behind the wheel. "What hotel?" he asked.

"Comfort Inn, near the hospital," I whispered, staring out the window and watching the world slowly pass me by.

"Where is your car?" he asked.

"The doctor was going to call me a cab, but I convinced him I could drive, it's that one," I told him, pointing to the Dodge Caravan as we rounded the corner of the parking lot and drove off.

"Well, I'll swing by in the morning and pick you up from the hotel. You should be sober than and I'll bring you back here. Check out at most of those places are at eleven, so expect me around then," he told me.

"Whatever," I whispered and leaned my head back.

"You really should have brought someone with you."

That damn doctor was back.

"I don't like telling people things like this alone."

A tear fell, and then another.

". . .if we'd caught it. . ."

A sob wracked my system and I leaned over onto the bench of the seat, undoing my seat belt and curling up in a ball.

". . .six months. . ."

The car door opened and I felt the cold air slide up my skirt. It sobered me for a moment and I sat up. His hands wrapped around my arm and I let him help me from the backseat. He embraced me again, this time I welcomed the warmth and trembled against him. "I'm sorry lady," he whispered against my auburn hair.

I shook my head against his chest and breathed deep. The smell of alcohol, smoke from the patrons of the bar, a hint of my perfume, the stranger's cologne filled my senses and I sighed. I just wanted to be lost in those scents. I felt him turn me toward the hotel and I walked with him, though I believe he carried me most of the way. We made it to the closest door, a side one that was only accessible with a key. "You got the key to your room?" he asked.

"Yeah," I told him. I gave him the small clutch I kept as a purse and leaned against the side of the hotel while he fished through it and found the keycard. I watched the slim plastic slide through the steel box. I heard the click. It was loud, as if it were trying to break through the fog in my mind.

His arms wrapped around me again and we walked the long hall until I was gently pressed against the wall. "Stay upright," he whispered into my ear and then licked the inner curve of it.

I trembled from shock, but felt the heat of my sex tighten. I moaned softly and again heard a click as he unlocked the door to my room. His arm went around my waist and he stirred me in. I saw the bathroom and the sudden urge to pee was there, so I left his side, tossing my purse on the table, where he laid the card. I shut the door to the bathroom and quickly shimmed out of my panties, lifted my skirt and relieved my bladder. I sat there looking around the room.

"She won't feel any pain. She'll simply fall asleep one day and not wake up."

"You son of a bitch," I muttered.

"Huh? You say something?" he called through the door.

"Just talking to myself," I answered back. I kicked off my pumps and wiggled my toes once my panties were pushed away. I grabbed some toilet paper, took care of business, flushed and then washed my hands. Funny how some routines never falter when your drunk, but others leave the body as if they never existed. I dried my hands on a towel and walked back into the room.

"I started the coffee, it should be ready in a bit. Why don't you lay down and I'll find you something to watch before I go," the stranger told me.

He pressed his hand against the small of my back and led me to the bed. He turned me and sat me down. My feet dangled and I watched him take them, lift them both and then gently turn me so my legs rested on the bed. I fell back onto it then. My head lay against the pillow and my eyes stared up at the pale ivory ceiling.

I felt a pair of hands on my waist and fingers dragging across the edging of my skirt, as it was eased down and then pulled out from under my ass, over my knees and then away from my ankles.

"You're a beautiful woman," he told me.

I said nothing as . . . ". . .I really wish you'd not come alone . . . I don't like to give news like this to anyone whose by themselves. . . six months. . .sleep . . . not wake up. . ." rolled through my mind.

Fingers released the buttons on my blouse and I pushed at them.

"Shh. . .I'm just making you more comfortable before I leave," the whisper told me.

My hand fell down. The front clasp of my bra was undone and I felt the weight of my breasts sway. I sighed as the confining article of convention was spread open and my large globes were allowed to be free.

"Beautiful," the voice said, before I felt moisture on one of my nipples.

One hand moved to his arm and I pushed at him to leave me alone, the other moved into his hair and pulled him closer to the beaded pearl. I kept my eyes closed as I felt the weight of the bed shift and him climb onto it. There were sounds playing in my mind as I heard metal hitting metal and leather slipping along leather. My breast popped from his mouth and I opened my eyes.

"Don't," I whispered and stared at the man, sobering for a second before. . . his voice came back to me. "Let me call you cab. . .six months. . . she'll never feel any pain. . . sleep. . ."

I watched as the man dragged his cock out and the tip caught the light of the bathroom and TV that was on. "It's okay, baby. I'm going to make you feel good. You've had a long day."

I pushed at his chest and felt one of his hands grab my wrists. He held them to his chest, while his other hand grabbed his sex. Instinct battled a war with a drunk. My mind told me to scream. My legs opened on their own free will. He moved closer and smiled. "That's right, baby. Just let me help."

His cock entered my sex. I was dry and I could see the frustration on his face. He pulled away and spit on his fingers and then my sex. I shifted and began to close my legs. "None of that now. . .remember, I'm here to help." He pushed a finger inside my pussy and I bit my lower lip. My muscles clamped on his digit and my hips rose.

"Yeah, that's it my beautiful lady."

He pushed in and out as my body began to react to his expert touch. "Ohhh. . . mmmm. . ." My moans left my lips and then a whimper followed when he pulled his wet fingers from my aroused sex. Again I felt his cock, this time it slid in with no resistance.

"Ohhh fuck yeah, baby. You are tight," he said.

I said nothing, my eyes stared at the ceiling as I felt him move in and out of me. His cock head came up to toy with my clit and then slide back into the deep hole. My hips rose and fell, my breathing became ragged. He continued, increasing his rhythm and then slowing down. Over and over he fucked me and I lay there with no words. Thoughts cascaded in my world. ". . .never wake up. . ."

"Fucckkkkkkk," the voice muttered.

My eyes closed and I felt his come shoot inside me. Mine followed and I shuddered. The bed shifted and I heard the sounds of rustling, and metal, and leather. I turned to my side and watched in a fog as the stranger dressed. "Thanks doll," he muttered and left the room. I blinked as my mind tried to comprehend what happened. I rolled away from the door as I heard the clink of it locking behind him. My fingers smoothed down the wrinkles in the blankets and the light of the TV caught the stone on my wedding ring. One thought ran in my mind and it came from a voice that I will hate for the rest of my life, and will hear in my dreams forever. . .

"Missus Croft, I wish you had brought someone with you. It isn't my policy to give this kind of news alone."

Author's Note: This is a story, not a fantasy, because I wouldn't wish this on anyone. It is fictional for me, but it could be real for someone, it isn't to anyone I know, but if it is for someone you know than I am sorry it happened to you. Very rarely do I wake up from a nice rest and have a story pop into my head, this one did. . .why I don't have a clue, but it did, so I dressed and wrote. . . ~ Red

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
37 Comments
Just_WordsJust_Wordsover 1 year ago

The author should ignore the negative comments. This was intensely painful. I admire the work very much, but I don't think I can read it again anytime soon. It's just too painful. Wonderfully executed.

iammweaseliammweaselover 1 year ago

Well that was pure shit. Says way more about you than you realize.

muskyboymuskyboyover 2 years ago

Wrong category, for sure. What wife? kinda sick......

Rhinoman1951Rhinoman1951over 4 years ago
Degrees of Rape

1. This belongs in Non-consent. While this may not be Forcible rape, she in no way gave consent. Both men need to be punished. I miss FTDS after reading some stories. This is definitely one of them. Perhaps it could start with her having enough left to call 911. Perhaps it would take her husband finding out her abuse. Then, he could arrange for both of the scum to be "drunk " in a gay bar where they receive the loving treatment his wife got. ... Multiple times. I'm sure the lit crowd that accepts cabbie's behavior would have no problem with the roles reversed.

2. Where was the husband? It's his fault his wife got raped.RIGHT... I'm guessing that the medical bills piled up as his daughter's illness progressed. So he struggles to keep the family's head above water. He is having to worry about his two most precious girls and two a-holes have to destroy all their lives even more.

3. I want to rant at the author for writing such a disgusting story. However, this portrayal is,unfortunately, too real. Predators like this exist. Distraught people, men and women, make bad choices. She tried to do her best, giving her keys away so she wouldn't drive drunk. She just trusted the wrong bartender.

AnonymousAnonymousover 7 years ago
These people have no comprehension skills.

It plainly stated that the skank whore grabbed his hair and move his head over to her pussy,there was no rape,she didn't care about daughter or hubby.

Show More
Share this Story

Similar Stories

Wife Unleashed! Prim and proper wife unleashes the whore within.in Loving Wives
Kristin's Night Out A young married mother goes drinking, finds passion.in NonConsent/Reluctance
A Wife Turned Meeting an old college acquaintance brings change.in Loving Wives
Audit Surprise Ch. 01 What Marty saw out the window changed his life.in Loving Wives
Party At Bill's Ch. 01 Husband find out why wife is busy on Friday nights.in Loving Wives
More Stories