Sin Rooms chapter 8 Cafeteria

Date: Some time later in 1990


“HEYyyyyy…SSAAMMmmmmm…..” She yelled out.

I had really been trying to avoid that girl for the past three months. I thought I had succeed. I was wrong. She blurted out my name a mile away from across the dinning hall. I could have ignored her call but that would have been impolite. I should have been impolite. She had gotten me kicked out of the library the first time we met. I did not want to be kicked out of the college cafeteria on our second encounter. It was the only place I could afford to eat in this town. London was an expensive city to live in and it still is. If I went eating anywhere else I would have starved by the middle of the month. Besides, I liked the lasagna they served at that canteen. It had all kinds of pastas, meat, tomatoes, a mix of god knows what vegetables. All the five food groups in one plate. Tomato is a fruit, isn’t it?! So I had no choice. I was not going to loose that lasagna. I turned around and waved back.

“COME ON…come over here …  join us,” Danielle invited me to sit with them. “This is my new boyfriend,” she introduced the guy sitting opposite her crunching on a bag of chips trying to finish it in one gulp. “Will, Sam. Sam, Will.” A very quick introduction followed by a quicker hand shack. I wanted to get this over with as quickly as I could.

“AND WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?” She started reprimanding me before I even had the chance to sit down. “Why aren’t you coming to the library anymore? I even tried to look for you at the dorms. You are still living there, aren’t you?”

“Oh no.. I moved out of the dorms,” I replied. “And, I don’t go to the library anymore. I’m persona non grata, remember!?” I’m sure she remembered. That smile on her face confirmed that she remembered.

“OMG… you’re still holding that on me?” She said with a smirk that lingered on the corner of her mouth. “I believe I made it up to you on that same night, didn’t I?!”

She certainly did. However, I never could get one on this girl. She was always one step ahead. So I tried to redirect the conversation to that other person sitting at the table.  He seemed to be the unintelligent type. The kind you can talk to without being linched. “So Will… Where did you two guys meet?” I was really trying to be polite and start a conversation. I swear I was.

“The library,” he replied and my lasagna flew out of my mouth right into his face. I really tried to apologize. I swear I did. It was difficult when Danielle could not stop laughing as Will was trying to wipe all that sauce from his tomato face. He stood up, excused himself to go to the washrooms. He wanted to clean up before catching his next class.

“Wow…You really threw it in his face,” Danielle continued chuckling even when her boyfriend left the scene of my crime.

“Oh… shut up,” I tried to be serious but I could not hold myself. I burst out laughing as well. “I’m sooo sorry. I do hope you apologize to your boyfriend for me.”

“Oh don’t worry about Will…besides, he’s not going to be my boyfriend much longer.”

“Sorry.” That was all I could say to that. I was hoping I was not the culprit. But I could tell he was not her type. “But, Seriously?! The library?! What’s with you and that place? Can’t you find a better outlet to pick up boys?”

“Well, it worked for you didn’t it?” She smiled. “But, seriously,” she added. “Why have you been avoiding me all this time? Did I do anything to offend you?” She asked.

“Oh nooo... No,” I replied. “It’s not you. It’s me,” I tried to explain. “I really like you Danielle. It’s just that I’m not ready to get into a new commitment. Not Just yet.”

“Who said anything about a commitment,” she surprised me with that. “All I want is to fuck you.” Another surprise if I might add.

“What the fuck!? I really think you should work on you bedside manners, my dear,” followed by a smile on my behalf.

“That’s precisely what I just said, MY DEAR,” she smiled back. “It’s the manner of getting you into my bed that I’m working on.”

Suddenly she stood up, grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “Let’s go,” she ordered.

“Where to?”

“I showed you mine,” she replied. “Now you have to show me yours.”

In less than thirty minutes we were in my place, naked in my bed, she was sitting on top of me, working her body in a manner I wished she would never stop, until I managed to explode into her, just the way she wanted.

Those few minutes right after sex are one of the most dangerous moments a guy could ever experience in his life. It is at that precise time in his existence when he is in his most vulnerable state. A point where he could spill all his secrets, without knowing it, and most of the time even when he does. I experienced that first hand in the hands of that woman.

I was lying on my back while Danielle was resting her head on my thigh. She was playing with my balls, flickering my deflated cock enticing it to return to its hard state. She had just sucked the hell out of it a few minutes earlier. She had even ridden it a couple of minutes before that. So after coming for three times, you can imagine it was going to need some persuasion before it was usable again. She knew that, so she was slowly playing with it, trying to get it in shape for the next round. It is at that precise moment in time she popped that infamous question.

“So tell me Sam,” Danielle started by asking. “How many girls have you been with besides myself?”

I wasn’t going to fall for that. I thought I was much smarter than that. You’re fucked either way. Whatever your answer to such a question is, it is the wrong answer. I thought I knew that, so I kept my mouth shut trying to weather this storm out. “You know I have your balls in my hands Sam,” she squeezed. “I want an honest answer or I swear I will….”

“Okay … okay…. Take it easy,” I squeaked hoping she did not draw out blood.

“Wow… I did not know you were into pain.” I said.

“Oh you’re going to feel pain alright if I don’t get an answer …I’m waiting Sam…”

I had no choice. So I started with the, “ONE.”

“OUCH!!!!” I flinched.

“Don’t lie to me, Sam,” she said.

“What makes you think I’m lying?”

Without realizing it, or maybe it was a deliberate confession on her behalf, she replied, “I’ve been with more than a dozen boys since I was fourteen years old. Most were clumsy selfish idiots who did not know one end of a hole from another. You my friend, are not. I figure you either had one hell of a teacher or have had one hell of an experience. I have a feeling it was both. And I want to know the details … SO SPILL,” Followed by another squeeze to remind me that she was still holding my life in her hand.

“OUCH!!!!” I flinched again.

As I said, I had no choice but to confess everything, so I did with the, “FOUR. Well, mainly the ONE. The other three didn’t count.”

“What do you mean they didn’t count?”

“Well, they were always with the ONE,” I probably made things worse with that one.

This time she was really going for blood, I swear she was. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?” I almost flew out of bed. Only what happened next surprised us both. My cock started to stiffen in her grip as a result.

“Oooo… it looks like YOU are the one who’s into pain,” she chuckled and squeezed harder still, eliciting a moan and a harder reaction from my tortured member which almost reached its potential for the fourth time. To help make things worse, she lifted one of her legs up on top of my chest exposing her entrance right in front of my eyes in order to give me a better view of what I could expect if I played my cards right. That probably pushed it up an extra notch.

“I want to know the truth Sam…. With all the dirty details. So start from the beginning.”

As I was saying about that vulnerable moment in a man’s life… Well, mine started from that moment. I had no choice. I started confessing every single fucking detail I managed to remember….

“OM FUCKING G…. SHE WAS A WHORE!?”

“A sex worker, my dear Danielle. Not a whore, “ I corrected, “If I had used that language in front of my late mother, god rest her soul, I would have gotten my mouth washed by a whole bar of soap.” I added with an indirect threat.

Danielle could not help herself. She tried to stifle a giggle that managed to escaped her mouth. “I’m sooo so sorry, I did not mean to laugh,” she tried to apologize, “Seriously !? Mila was a…”

“…. a sex worker.” I interjected before Danielle made that unforgivable mistake again.

“Okay, okay, a sex worker,” she confirmed. “I don’t have anything against SEX WORKERS. Not that I know any friends in that business.”

“Well, mine were all.”

“Well, that does explains one thing,” she added.

“What thing?”

“For an eighteen years old, you sure know how to please a woman,” she said. “If you know how to please a SEX WORKER, any other would be a piece of cake.”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” I confirmed.

“She must have really loved you to let you go the way she did.” Another surprise I did not expect from Danielle.

That was the first time someone had pointed that out to me. For the past months, after leaving Mila and coming to London those festering questions I kept bottled inside were starting to border on resentment thinking that I had been thrown out on the street by the one that I loved. “I don’t know about love.” I had to bleed that out of my system. “She did kick me out of her life, remember?”

“For a smart guy like yourself Sam, you really don’t know anything about women, do you?”

“I guess I don’t.” I confessed. I still don’t.

“So what about those other three, in addition to that ONE?” I hoped Danielle had forgotten about those three but she didn’t.

As I was saying about that vulnerable moment in a man’s life… once it starts it will never be over. Once again I had no choice. I had to confess the rest….

“OM FREEKING G…. SHE MADE YOU DO A THREESOME !?” All that time my cock was still being abused in her hands, being pulled, stroked, until I felt like it was on a freeking fire.

“Yesssss…..”

“I’ve never had a threesome before,” Danielle confessed again. “Would you like to do it with me sometime?”

“Yesssss…..”

Suddenly she jumped on top. Full 69 mode. She loved that position. It was always her favorite. And she wasn’t that far way anyways. In seconds her pussy was fully sprawled on my face, already dripping wet either from her cum or mine which might have been seeping out from our previous rounds. I didn’t care who’s juices I was sipping. I had a task to do and I jumped to it.

“Let’s see how good that loving whore of yours taught you how to eat pussy,” Danielle said before putting my dripping cock in her mouth.

I didn’t even have the chance to correct her this time. I was busy on the job that was in front of me. Busy trying to get my tongue as far at it could go inside of her. I also managed to locate that elusive bud hiding behind those sensitive folds of flesh. After cuming for three times earlier, it did take us both a few extra minutes to reach our fourth climax. I came first spraying my load on her face with a few drops landing inside her mouth. When I was done she sat straight. Her full weight pressing on my face. Breathing wasn’t on the menu. I had to make her cum as quickly as I could before I started seeing stars. Eventually I managed to pull it off. That flood of juice I felt inside my mouth told me I had succeeded. When she finally dropped down on the bed next to me my suspicions had been correct. “Sex worker….” I finally said and I received a slap on my dead cock for my audacity for correcting her again.

One of the many things I love about sex are those moments of silence that come after. They can be one of the most peaceful moments of tranquility when the vale of lies comes breaking down. We all live in a box of pretend, trying to project unto others what we want them to perceive of us. However on rare occasions do we bring down those walls of deceit and confess our feelings and experiences to that other. In most instances this moment of truth comes right after we have had our essence spilled inside a partner. Right after that exhale comes those moments of silence and peace. A make for some or a break for others.

“I never knew my parents,” Danielle confessed. “They both died when I was four. I don’t remember them. I’ve been raised by my grandma ever since. When did your ma pass away?” I had forgotten I mentioned my late mother earlier. I shouldn’t have.

I hate confessions. You don’t know what path they lead to. I’ve never been into blabbering my heart out. Being shy is another factor, although my experience with confessions has never been a good one. “She was killed in a car accident a few years ago,” I confessed.

“Mine as well,” Danielle added. “I’ve heard it was my father’s fault. He was an addict and a drunk.”

“She died in my fathers hands. From a bullet to the head.” As I said, I hate confessions.

Danielle straitened up and looked at me as I lay on the bed next to her. She wanted to see if I was telling the truth or not. Those few minutes of silence as she looked into my eyes confirmed I wasn’t. I usually never talk about this. Not to anyone. Mila was the first. I had no intention of adding Danielle to the mix. It wasn’t fair to her. Listening to her talking about her parents broke that wall I usually build around myself. Maybe she felt the same. I guess she did. In the years to come I knew she did. When she put her head on my chest, I felt her tears trickling down on my skin. As I said, I hate confessions….